#that’s the name until we come up with a better one

[burrowlvrr]

— MORTGAGE MISCHIEF, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Y/N caves in and makes a TikTok account, and it doesn't take long for her to try to prank her unserious husband.

NOTE: I love this trend on TikTok so freaking much, bro, I just couldn't help myself. I wish there was more pranks going around TikTok so I could write another one lol! Feel free to send me more ideas and suggestions, enjoy!

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

Y/N had never been the kind of person to keep up with social media trends. Her Instagram was mostly filled with family snapshots, vacation photos, and the occasional throwback post from her college days. TikTok, though? That was a whole different ballgame.

She’d heard the buzz about it, of course—the dances, the memes, the endless rabbit hole of videos that could steal hours of your day—but it wasn’t really her thing.

That is, until some of Joe’s fans started flooding her DMs.

It wasn’t unusual for her to get messages from fans, most of them kind and supportive, occasionally sprinkled with the usual social media chaos. But after a family photo Joe posted went viral—a candid shot of the two of them laughing while their kids played in the background—her inbox blew up.

Several people had suggested she start a TikTok account, saying things like, “Your family is so cute, we’d love to see more of you guys!” and “Please post more videos of Joe being a dad; it’s the content we all need!”

At first, she brushed it off. The idea of putting her family out there in such a public way made her hesitant. Their life was private, cozy, and real—did she really want to open that up to the internet? But the messages kept coming, and her curiosity eventually got the better of her. One evening, after the kids were asleep and Joe was watching game highlights, she downloaded the app.

It didn’t take long for TikTok to reel her in. The first few days, she lurked quietly, scrolling through endless videos of clever pranks, hilarious parenting fails, and, of course, a whole section of TikToks dedicated to football wives and girlfriends. It was the pranks that hooked her.

Women were pulling the funniest, most creative stunts on their unsuspecting husbands—pretending to be mad over made-up arguments, mispronouncing their favorite athletes’ names, and her personal favorite, casually dropping bombshell “confessions” to see how their partners would react.

She couldn’t resist.

“This would be perfect for Joe,” she’d said to herself one night, already grinning at the thought. He was so even-keeled most of the time, but his sass came out when he was caught off guard, and she couldn’t wait to see what he’d say.

So, Y/N started posting. At first, it was just lighthearted videos of their kids, like Hudson and Elijah racing each other in the backyard or Sawyer trying to crawl after their dog, who always managed to stay just out of reach. The comments poured in, full of love and laughter, and she started to feel less nervous about sharing these little moments. And then came the pranks.

She eased into them, starting small—things like pretending to forget what day of the week it was or asking Joe if she could switch his game-day hoodie with one of hers. His reactions were gold, and her videos started gaining traction. She didn’t know how many people would find it so funny, but apparently, the internet loved Joe Burrow getting pranked as much as she did.

Which is how she found herself, phone in hand, ready to execute her latest and possibly best trend yet: the “I can’t pay the mortgage this month” prank.

The living room buzzed with the quiet hum of family life. Hudson and Elijah were seated cross-legged on the rug, their faces scrunched in concentration as they connected Lego pieces, the colorful blocks scattered across the coffee table like a mini construction zone. Sawyer, their youngest, was on the floor nearby, rolling lazily on her playmat while holding her bottle with both hands, occasionally babbling nonsense to herself.

Joe was stretched out on the couch, the epitome of relaxation in his gray hoodie and sweatpants, his wife’s legs comfortably draped over his thighs. His focus was glued to the MMA fight playing on the TV, and he absently stirred his spoon around a bowl of cereal balanced in his hand.

Every so often, he’d let out a low, “Oof,” reacting to a particularly hard punch or takedown, his body slightly tensing with the action on screen.

Y/N sat beside him, phone in hand, scrolling through TikTok. She stumbled across the trend a few hours ago, and decided that now was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Glancing sideways at Joe, she smirked to herself. This will be fun.

She adjusted her phone subtly, angling it to record, and cleared her throat dramatically. “Joe?”

“Hmm?” he murmured, not taking his eyes off the screen as he scooped another bite of cereal.

“I need to tell you something,” she said softly, injecting a hint of nervousness into her tone.

Joe didn’t look up. “What’s up, baby?”

“Don’t get mad at me, okay?” she added, biting her bottom lip to suppress a grin.

That got his attention. Joe’s hand froze midair, his spoon hovering over the bowl, and he turned his head toward her, squinting slightly.

“What? Why would I get mad?” His sharp gaze shifted to the phone in her lap. “Wait… why’re you recording? You pregnant again?”

Y/N burst out laughing at his assumption, unable to keep up her serious facade. “What? No!”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause that’s how you told me about Sawyer,” he replied with a smirk, leaning back on the couch and rubbing his free hand over his face.

“You just pulled out your phone, started recording, and bam—‘Congratulations, you’re gonna be a dad again!’” Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help giggling. “I’m serious, Joe. This is important.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, setting his cereal down on the side table and shifting so he was facing her fully. “What’s going on? And why are you being all dramatic about it?”

Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself before delivering her line. “I, uh… I won’t be able to pay the mortgage this month.”

Joe blinked at her, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Girl, what are you talking about?” His tone was casual but tinged with disbelief.

She tried to keep her composure, clasping her hands together as if pleading. “The school’s on winter break, so my paycheck isn’t going to be enough. I just—ugh, I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Joe stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Okay, wait. How much is the mortgage?”

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “Uh… like… $2,000?” she guessed, feigning confidence.

Joe’s mouth twitched, and he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Babe. You don’t even know how much it is, do you?”

“Well…” she stalled, trying to recover.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms. “You’ve never paid the mortgage.”

“I know!” Y/N blurted, throwing her hands up dramatically. “I was going to as your Christmas present, but my paycheck won’t be enough now!”

Joe’s brow furrowed again, but this time his lips quirked upward, unable to hide his amusement. “So let me get this straight. You don’t know how much the mortgage is. You’ve never paid it before. And now you’re stressed because your Christmas present was gonna be paying it, but you can’t?”

“Exactly!” she said, doubling down.

For a moment, Joe just stared at her, then he broke into a deep laugh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You’re crazy,” he muttered, shaking his head. Grabbing his cereal bowl, he leaned back against the couch.

“Don’t worry about it, babe. I got it.” He scooped another spoonful and took a bite like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Y/N couldn’t hold it in any longer. She burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as she nearly dropped her phone.

Joe raised an eyebrow at her, still chewing. “What’s so funny now?”

“It was a TikTok prank!” she wheezed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

Joe’s smirk deepened as he shook his head. “Yeah, I figured. There’s no way you were being serious.”

“You were so calm about it, though!” she said, still laughing. “I really thought I’d get a bigger reaction out of you!”

“Nah,” Joe replied, reaching over to pinch her ankle playfully. “You’re too bad at lying, babe. Next time, at least Google how much the mortgage is first.”

From the floor, Hudson looked up from the Lego set with a curious expression. “What’s a mortgage?”

Joe snorted, pointing his spoon at his son. “Something you don’t gotta worry about, buddy.”

Elijah chimed in without looking up from his Legos. “Mommy’s bad at pranks.”

Sawyer let out a happy babble from her playmat, almost as if she agreed.

Joe laughed, pulling Y/N closer with one arm. “Looks like the jury’s unanimous, babe. Better luck next time.”

[gothicfied]

Thanos / Player 230 Headcanons

Paring: Thanos / Player 230 x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying and gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, although this is probably buns (my first time writing something like this, I'm sorry, people😔🙏)

જ⁀➴ In his mind, you were this little lamb who needed his protection. Even if you proved yourself to be capable of surviving on your own, Thanos was set on dragging you with him, insisting that it'd be better if you would just stick with his group (much to your and also Nam-gyus annoyance). And, considering he was ready to sacrifice other peoples lives for this prize money, you were scared to refuse him.

જ⁀➴ At some point, you found it endearing how much he seemed to care for you. His cheesy raps about you, his pet names - 'baby', 'princess', 'sweetheart' - the way he was actually putting in the effort to get you through the games, ready to sacrifice a 'friend' (poor Gyeong-su).. you couldn't help but relish the affection he was showing you.

જ⁀➴ It was nice feeling something other than fear and dread, so you couldn't help but entertain Thanos' feelings. Perhaps you weren't just entertaining them? It was hard to ignore the growing connection between you two. Especially when he seemed to open up more and more, especially after lights out.

જ⁀➴ When the drugs wore off, Thanos was actually nice to talk to. At night, he'd come and sit on your bed, comforting you if you were scared (which you very obviously were). Draping an arm around your shoulders, he'd listen to every worry, thought and wish you have and would just stay quiet for those moments (which was very rare and made you appreciate these moments even more).

જ⁀➴ For some reason, you two understand each other. Sure, when high, Thanos was insufferable, loud and annoying and would do every stupid thing imaginable just to impress you. He'd play risky during the games, just to never shut up about how he survived it and how 'he would never die and leave you alone'. After that, the moments where he seemed to be vulnerable meant that much more to you.

જ⁀➴ Thanos' confidence is unwavering. He'd be relentless and would chase after you, regardless if you wanted it or not. In his opinion, you two were the most perfect match and he'd do anything to be able to call you his. Your beauty, your determination and the way you carried yourself simply mesmerized him.

જ⁀➴ After every game you two survived, he'd pull you close to him, tightly wrapping his arms around you and hug you until you couldn't properly breath anymore. "I'm so happy you made it out alive, princess. God, I couldn't imagine what I would do without you in here!"

જ⁀➴ Even with you there with him, Thanos needs that prize money. Would he sacrifice you for it? Never in a million years. Does he still pressure you into voting to continue? Yes, absolutely.

"Come on, baby! Just one more game, I promise." He snakes his arms around your waist, leaning down while talking, "you know I'll protect you. And with the money, we can build a new, happy lives together. What do you say?"

જ⁀➴ Seeing you scared expression while loud gunshots filled the room during the mingle game does something to him, though. Thanos' eyes bore into yours, making you look away quickly. He needs that money, he knows you do, too. But seeing you so distraught might actually make hin change his mind about wanting to continue. After all, he's completely head over heels for you and he'd do everything not to lose you.

[noxitsnox]

if we get too closе, would it be okay?

hyun-ju x gn!reader - highschool au

summery: hyun-ju came out to her- now ex- girlfriend who spread the rumor around the whole school.

tags: trans/homophobia (the word tr**ny is used one (1) time), bullying, hurt/comfort, lots of fluff i promise, let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: i am obsessed it's not fair. this is pre-t but i'm still going to use she/her pronouns for hyun-ju <3 also english is not my first language and this isn't proof read, so i apologize for any mistake. @exactlyinfp

hyun-ju didn't want to go to school that day. her girlfriend, ex girlfriend now, broke up with her just because she trusted her, because she didn't want to hide anymore and she believed that her girlfriend of almost two years would understand. but she didn't. she called her all kind of names and blocked her everywhere.

she hoped this was where it ended. that they could just ignore each other and keep living life as it is. it would have been so much easier that way. but the moment she entered the school hallway she knew something happened. the looks she was getting were strange, full of hate. definitely not the looks you receive when you just broke up. she tried to ignore it and walked to her class with her head down.

it was early. a lot of time passed before some of her classmates entered the room. maybe it was better if they stayed outside. their chatter died down as soon as they saw her. one of them, who was seated next to her, took his desk and dragged it as far away from her as possible. “you're sick”, he said under his breath. “stay away from me.”

she stayed silent as the realization hit her. if he knew, everyone else did too. fighting tears, she forced herself to keep cool.

slowly people filled the room. everyone ignored her, even her so called friends looked at her with disgust. only y/n seemed to be acting as if nothing happened. maybe they didn't know about it yet. they’ll turn their back to you like everyone else, she thought.

“oh hyun-ju, how are you?”

y/n waited for an answer that never arrived. so, with a sad smile, they spoke again. “it's fine. you don't have to talk with me. you have my number in case you change your mind.”

———

for the rest of the week she ignored everyone. she was barely alive.

every morning she entered school feeling like a criminal. her locker in the changing rooms was filled with insults. some guys even tried to push her on the ground. that was the only moment she reacted. she could ignore words, but physical aggression was were she drew the line.

every night she cried herself to sleep, wishing she had someone on her side, someone to talk to. her family didn't know about what was happening in school and she hoped for it to stay that way or she wouldn't even have a home anymore.

it was on saturday afternoon that she lost it. she was out, getting some groceries for her mother at the local market, and she saw her ex with her friends. she tried to hide before they could notice her, but she wasn't fast enough.

"oh god, isn't that that tranny you used to date?", one said pointing at her.

"don't say that out loud, please. what will people think of me?"

hyun-ju ran away without even taking food from the market stall. she kept running until their voice became indistinguishable echoes.

she sat on the side walk and took out her phone, looking for y/n contact. she started crying, the tears blurring her vision.

their words came back to her. you have my number in case you change your mind. were they serious? she hesitantly called them, hoping for the best.

y/n didn't take long to answer and for that she was grateful.

"hey, you called!"

"i- yes... listen can you, can you come here?"

"oh hyun-ju, you're crying? is everything okay?"

"i don't even know anymore. please, just come here." and with that she hung up the phone, quickly shared the position with them.

she hugged her knees as she waited.

———

y/n was happy that hyun-ju called, even if the situation wasn't ideal. even though they weren't intimate, they cared about her and it made them sad to see her suffer. especially if she was being ridiculed for something beyond her control.

y/n tried to get to her as fast as possible. they went out in their sweats without bothering to put on something nicer. they didn't like the idea of hyun-ju seeing them in that state, but they also realized that they had to put vanity aside at the moment.

as soon as she saw y/n she got up and hugged. they remained in that position for a while. hyun-ju cried and cried while y/n rubbed her back, doing what they could to comfort her.

"sorry... i don't know why i did that", she said as she let go of them.

"you don't have to apologize. do you feel better now?"

"i do, thanks."

an awkward silence fell until y/n suggested they start walking with a wave of their hand, "do you wanna talk about what's happening?"

"i just want to forget about it. can we talk about something else?"

"oh sure", y/n looked at her and smiled. "do you wanna hear about this manga i'm reading?"

a/n: i realize that for an xreader the reader is barely there 😬 sorry. let me now if you liked it!!

[insomniadreamzz]

OK OK OK FOLLOWING THE PREGNANCY STORYLINE LETS IMAGINE ISHA IS HERE A CUTE FLUFFY THING WITH EITHER ISHA MEETING THE BABY OR FINDING OUT READER IS PREGNANT AND THAT SHES GONNA BE A BIG SIS

Our family

Jinx x Fem!Reader ft. Isha (plus a little bonus with Sevika)

Fluff

A continuation from the fic „My Everything“ https://www.tumblr.com/insomniadreamzz/772011828255621120/hey-how-are-you-i-wanted-to-request-gp-jinx-x

You still remember when Isha found out she gonna be a big sister, the way her eyes were literally glowing with happiness. Isha was mute but she expressed her happiness clearly, already doing little doodles of her and her sister together with you and Jinx. The way she put her little head on your baby bump to feel her sister kick, it was just too cute.

Jinx already set up some stuff for the little one, making sure youre gonna have everything you needed when the baby will arrive and soon it happened.

You can still remember how Jinx held your hand and never left your side. Singed, the only doctor here in Zaun also made an appearance to make sure everything went well. He wasn’t used to be part of something like that very often but he was glad he could help you out in that situation. Jinx kisses on your forehead and the way she encouraged you during that hard time, it was still stuck in your head how gentle and loving she can be and then it happened. When you first heard your little one cry, both of you shed tears of happiness, feeling relieved that everything went good. It was a little girl.

When you both got back home after that, Jinx immediately ushered you to bed, figuring you must be tired as you had your newborn in your arms, Jinx never leaving your side.

„Look how cute she is…our little one…“ She cooed, holding you close as she admired your daughter, making you smile so happily. „Of course she is, she is ours.“ You mentioned, looking into your girlfriend’s eyes. „What should we name her?“ You asked and Jinx already got an idea, something that she was thinking about for a longer time now since she knew you are pregnant.

„Powder.“ Jinx said, making your eyes widen in confusion, knowing it was Jinx‘s actual name. „Powder?“ You asked, Jinx nodding in response. „Yes. I want to have a good connection to that name now. Every time I hear it I have to think about myself when I was younger and…certain things happened but I want to forget that. I want to be happy hearing the name Powder and not feel triggered anymore by that name. She will be a better Powder, not like me. I am Jinx now, Powder died in me but we can make her be a better Powder than I was.“ You heard her voice crack a little, seeing little tears running down her cheeks. This really meant a lot to Jinx, you knew it. „Then she will be Powder.“ You agreed with her, using your free hand to caress her back gently, getting back her attention towards you. „Thank you my love.“ She said before placing a little kiss on your lips.

The moment got interrupted by little footsteps, it was Isha who curiously walked up to you, Jinx shifting to make space for Isha between you both. „Isha! Come here, say hello to your little sister.“ Jinx said, letting the girl slip beside you as she looked at the little one with wide happy eyes, her small hand gently touching Powder as if welcoming her.

„Now you are a big sister. You can show her everything when she gets a little bigger, cool right?“ You said, Isha nodding at your words, feeling really happy to be a big sister now plus she was excited to have someone to play with in the future as well.

You talked a little more this evening until all of you just fell asleep. Powder on your chest and Isha sleeping between you and Jinx, all cuddled up in one bed. It was a very peaceful moment. Jinx slept for the first time very happily and calm, the voices in her head not bothering her at all. She was truly happy for the first time and she won’t let anyone destroy this happy life she had.

The next morning Sevika was on her way to Jinx’s hideout, it’s been a while since she showed up, probably hanging around in the Last Drop or doing her usual work. Sevika knew Jinx from when Silco took her with him so she felt like she had to look for her every now and then, making sure Jinx was alright.

„Jinx where the fuck are-…“ She started but stopped immediately in her tracks as she saw Jinx holding a baby while you and Isha were still sleeping cuddled up together. „Where did that baby come from?“ She asked with a raised eyebrow, not trusting this situation for now.

„That’s my daughter which came right out of my girlfriend if you want to know.“ Jinx replied with her usual sassy behavior. Sevika didn’t want to know any more details, shaking it off as she stepped closer to Jinx, having a closer look at the baby. „That’s…really yours?“ She asked again, being a little bit shocked, Jinx nodding in response. „Yep! Does auntie Sevika want to say hello to little Powder? Or are you gonna chicken out?“ Obviously Jinx had to tease Sevika but the older woman didn’t let her make her annoyed as she just nodded. Jinx helped Sevika to hold Powder with her arm, the baby looking even smaller in her strong arm. „There you go.“

Sevika stared at the baby with a unusual soft gaze. „Aw…did you just say auntie Sevika?“ She asked to be sure. „Of course! You’re the only one left who’s like a family to me after Silco died.“ Jinx became soft as she said that, thinking it was about time to speak the truth to Sevika, making the other womans eyes water a little. „Silco would be so happy and proud of you Jinx.“ Sevika mentioned, making Jinx almost cry but she held back her tears. Instead a little tear rolled down Sevika‘s cheek. „Are you crying?“ Jinx tilted her head as she gazed at Sevika who just shook her head. „No I am not.“ She said, making Jinx chuckle in response. „Damn you are a bad liar.“

And with that both started chuckling.

[imaginariumwanderer]

Silly voting time

The writers know what they were doing when they made this sm's quote. They know.

Alright, it's most likely one of the first 2 options, but it'll be fun if they (the writers) managed to surprise me somehow. It would be fun to hear other's theories too, if anyone have any. The more outlandish the better

If sm really was preferring to pv here, it would have some scary implications. Adjectives aside since we all know sm is more often than not sarcastic when it comes to praises. I can see this line being used for a "Shadow Milk is the Light of Truth" type of reveal, followed by pv’s breakdown upon learning sm’s manipulation of pv and general meddling with his life goes way deeper than he realized

Moving onto something I'm even more curious about. New plot macguffin just dropped

I love how this Binding ritual got name dropped several time and yet we have not a slighest of hint on what it’s about. The most we can gleam from the website is 1. It can stop the Beasts, that's why Gingergang is searching for it in the first place and 2. It’s a super secret ritual with infomation about it maybe existing inside the Tower

Interestingly it’s called a Binding Ritual and is may or may not an entire different thing from the Beast’s sealing. This and the fact that the Silver Tree was around before the Beasts’s “corruption” got me raising my eyebrow at the Witches. They sure got a lot of preparations set up for when their creations goes against their designs hmm...

I still got tons of little crack theories and speculations in me along with one big serious theory regarding all le patterns✨ I've noticed in all the current EPs, but I'm tryna wait it out until more trailers come up to go full on tinfoil hat mode. That is to say I am lapping up all the information that Devsis drip feed to us like a greedy dog everything is so vague it's killing me

[angstywaifu]

Not Enough - Liam Mairi

Request: Would you maybe do a soft smut slash angst with liam where reader gets hurt in a challenge and storms off belittling herself and getting so down because her parents would have expected more from her and it all comes to a head when liam runs after her and she blows up on him screaming about how stupid she is and how she isn't enough and liam like shuts her up by kissing her and showing her that she is enough and how amazing she is - @elliot-rain

Masterlist | Support Me

The impact of landing on the mat runs through me as I lie there stunned, the pain in my leg barely noticeable. Shit. They were going to be disappointed me if they found out I got hurt and lost. I could already hear the lecture in my head.

”How could you lose?”

”You could do so much better.”

”You have a family name and reputation to uphold.”

I push myself up as best I can, ignoring the hand my opponent holds out to me. I couldn’t show weakness. I needed to be strong, even as my leg screamed at me to take the help. I limp off the mat, the crowd of riders parting to let me through.

”You ok?” Violet asks as I pass her.

I stop and turn to look at her, doing my best to hide my grimace. “Yeah, just going to go rest for a bit. I’ll be good.”

She purses her lips, but eventually nods at me. She clearly sees through me. She always does when one of us gets hurt. She knows what pain is like better than any of us, so it’s hard to hide from her when we are in pain. Before she can stop me, I turn around and do my best to walk out of the room. Now my challenge was done, I didn’t technically need to stay, meaning I had at least an hour till my next class. An hour to think over my mistakes, to explain them to my parents once they found out and no doubt demanded to see me somehow. For any other rider, losing on the mat would just be a bad day or their opponent just being better than them. But that wasn’t an option for me. My entire life I was taught to be perfect. No mistakes, no errors. Mistakes were punished, a lesson that they were not to be made again. I had a legacy to uphold.

I’m too lost in my thoughts to hear the rushed footsteps behind me until movement out of the corner of my eye startles me, causing me to jump and aggravate my leg, a pained hiss escaping my lips through gritted teeth.

”Shit, what happened?” Liam asks hurriedly as his eyes scan over me, his hands resting on my arms as he steadies me.

”A mistake, that's what happened.” I say as I avert my eyes from his.

I see him furrow his brow out of the corner of my eye, clearly confused at my words. “Mistake? Things happen all the time in challenges. It was nothing. You’ll come back better and stronger next week.”

I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut as tears threaten to break free as my emotions bubble over the edge. “To me it’s not nothing” I mutter out, part of me hoping he doesn’t hear, but I know he does.

”It is nothing Y/N. No one in there is going to care you lost a challenge. It happens.” He almost pleads to me, and I know if I open my eyes his blue eyes will be soft and caring.

”It’s not the people in there I’m worried about.” I say as I open my eyes, a tear rolling down one of my cheeks.

Liam reaches out to wipe it away, but I knock his hand away before limping over to one of the few cut outs in the wall, looking out into the empty Rotunda.

”I come from a family where I have certain expectations to meet. An image to live up to. Nothing but the best is tolerated. Anything less than perfect is….”

”Is what?” Liam's voice soft but demanding from behind me.

”Punished.” I say as I look at him over my shoulder, watching the colour from his face drain. “Anything less than perfect, than one hundred percent isn’t tolerated.”

”You’re safe here, they can’t pun-”

”Yes they can!” I yell as I turn on Liam, wincing as my leg protests at the sudden movement. “I am not safe behind these walls. They provide no protection from what they will do if they find out how stupid I was to let myself lose! They provide no protection from being told I am not good enough. That if anything I do is less than perfect will never be enough. I’m not en-”

Liam’s lips crash against mine, cutting off my frantic words. The heat of his kiss swallows the air from my lungs, silencing every self-deprecating thought spiralling in my mind. For a moment, I’m too stunned to move, too caught off guard to process what’s happening. But then the warmth of his hands, one cupping my cheek and the other steadying my trembling arm, grounds me.

The world falls away—the walls, the fear, the doubts—all of it fades into the background. All I can focus on is him: the way his touch feels steady, the way his kiss feels like a promise, fierce yet tender, as if he’s trying to piece me back together with every brush of his lips.

When he pulls back, his forehead presses against mine, and his breath fans across my face. His hands don’t leave me; instead, they grip tighter, as if afraid I’ll shatter the moment he lets go.

“You’re enough,” he says softly, his voice rough but resolute. “You’ve always been enough. Stop doubting yourself, because I won’t let you tear yourself apart anymore.”

I blink up at him, my chest heaving from more than just the kiss. “Liam, I—”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice firm now. “Listen to me. You are stronger than you think. You’ve faced so much, and you’re still standing. You are more than good enough, and no one—no one—gets to make you feel otherwise. Not even you.”

Tears sting my eyes, but for once, they’re not from pain or frustration. They’re from the raw, unrelenting belief in his voice, in his gaze as he looks at me like I’m worth fighting for.

“I’m scared,” I whisper, my voice breaking.

“I know,” he says, his thumb brushing a stray tear from my cheek. “But you don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Something inside me shifts, loosens, as his words sink in. For the first time in what feels like forever, the weight pressing on my chest lightens, just a little. And for now, that’s enough.

[marsdql]

lovin’ me was never a sin — n.r﹙西村力﹚

snyopsis ៸ You are torn between falling in love with the enigmatic senior you were supposed to spy on and supporting your close friend from another school. ៸៸ -> masterlist

genre ៸ angst, romance┊ wordcount ៸ 3,5k content warning ៸ miscommunication, dishonesty, emotinal conflict, little toxic, immature┊ not proofread┊lowkey not happy with this one but wtv ៸ ៸

“You need to check him out for me, y/n!” screamed Giselle, your best friend— from the other line. “Okay, okay. So tell me more about this guy and I’ll see what I can do. But you better pay for tteokbokki next time!” you replied. “His name is Ni-ki, he’s only a year older than us, a hot senior.. anyway! I’ll send you a picture of him. He looks a little like you not gona’ lie…”

“Okay, I’ll update you when I see him. Unlike you, my class starts early so… I’ll see you later Giselle.” You hung up the line, placing your phone in your bag as you rushed to school.

You could barely walk in the snow, your shoes soaked because you refused to wear snow boots. ‘That’s it.. I accept my defeat, I’ll be late to my first class after winter break’ you thought to yourself, staring at the path ahead of you and letting out a dramatic sigh.

Before you could finish your dramatic act, you spot something that isn’t white like the snow that’s surrounding you—a tall slim guy struggling in the snow just like you. Though, there was something about him, He looked…. Familiar? That’s when you realized.

You quickly pulled your phone out of the side of your bag, putting your arms in an awkward position as you tried to open and close your bag. You reopened you and Giselle’s chats to check the photo she sent you of the guy she requested you to “keep an eye on”. Just as you figured, there he was, it was him, Nishimura Riki was right infront of you.

Lost in thought, your body shifted closer to him, making him side eye you weirdly. You kept getting closer and closer—until he finally said something. “Uh, do you need anything?” His voice low but deep—making you come back from lala land. “what? What! No.. hah no.. I was just approaching you because I noticed you’re also late to school! Why not walk together right?” You blocked your ears as you spoke, not wanting to let yourself even hear what nonsense came out of your own mouth.

“…Alright.” He said, both of you continuing your walk to school in silence—mostly because you didn’t known eachother but also because of how awkward your only conversation was.

“That’s it for class, make sure to study for the provincial math exam, you guys have 2 days to study everything we’ve learned this semester. Class dismissed” your teacher spoke before the bell rang for lunch.

You walked out of the classroom trying to hold your excitement—excited to see your friends since you couldn’t in the morning.

To your surprise, when you message them asking where they are, they reply saying that they already went to the bus station to go to the mall food court… cafeteria alone it is..

You knew school wasn’t going to be fun when you come back, but you didn’t think it’s be this boring. Just as you were saying that—Giselle messaged you.

Giselle: did you see him?!

You: Yaaah, we were both late to class so we walked to school together. We didn’t talk tho.

Giselle: omg(!(!;$$;!(!!!! How was it? Omg was he hotter close up??

You: it was so bad… I embarrassed myself that’s the reason we didn’t even talk. He’s alright I guess… he’s like emo?

Just as you said that, a guy sat next to you. You switched you gaze to him—Ni-ki? Again? Speaking of the devil… You were quick to speak, “hey, why’d you sit here?” You questioned him, a smirk across your face, thinking that he must want to become friends after what happend in the morning—oh but if only you knew how fast that smirk was going to be wiped off your face.

He removed his AirPods, looking back at you with one eyebrow raised and his lips slightly parted. “Were you talking to me?” Your eye lids quickly turning heavy at the embarrassment you just experienced.

“What? No! I mean, yes! Do you understand Uhm.. math?” You made up, “what kind of math?” he asked, to which you quickly answered. “All. Everything. 11th grade math.” “Do you need help?” “Yes, but I don’t know anyone who’s good in math and.. you look smart..?”

You dodged a bullet of more embarrassment. Ni-ki believed it and requested helping you with the math you couldn’t even understand when the teacher explained it. Surprisingly, he could explain pretty well and you understood a few things.

He offered to help you more before the huge exam—adding his number into your phone so that you could message him whenever you have a question you can’t complete.

It had been days since your first incounter with nishimura riki—he helped you pass your math exam which was unexpected since you both never talked. It’s like you guys were destined to become friends.

Everyday you guys became closer. It went from only studying—to walking eachother to class—to hanging out at each others house. Giselle was aware of everything aswell, getting herself excited so that she could use you as an excuse to talk to him.

But you couldn’t lie, feelings started to grow the more and more you both hung out. He was perfect in every way. Whenever you’d go to his apartment that he lived alone in—everything was organised, the Colors all matched. He always smelled good, his hair was never greasy either. He looked good in everything aswell.

When he’d help you with things, he never once made you feel stupid. Everyone knew him as the cold senior but he seemed so nice with you.

Dinnng!

giselle: Are you with ni-ki?

you: No, he just left. Why?

Giselle: oh. em. gee. He’s at the same store as me and this guy but I don’t want him to know I speak to boys…

You: LOL? Why??

Giselle: because when I’ll approach him, he’ll think I have a guy already!!!

You: you’re suchaaa boopppp 🙄🙄

Giselle: homie hopper til i Die 😫

A few minutes later, you heard a knock at your door. You rush to open it—wondering who it is.

It was ni-ki, again. “Hey, I noticed how you’ve been stressing over all the exams coming up next week. So I figured after you left I’d go to the store and get snacks so we can chill and watch movies.” He said, looking down at you, his eyes softer than usual when speaking.

“Come in, ki! You’ll catch a cold.” You giggled as you pushed him inside then dragging him to your room. He was a tease but still had a soft spot inside of him. “Whatcha’ wanna watch? Let me guess, tru-“ “true beauty!” “I knew it.”

Everyday was something new,

- hey y/n, I got you lunch

- Wanna’ hang out tonight?

- Let’s go to the movies

- Did you hear the latest rumor about-

- Do you know how many teeth sharks have?

His excuses became worse than yours—he just wanted to hang out. As much as you wanted to aswell, you knew your feelings for him would just grow bigger. You couldn’t like him though, he was one of giselle’s target—you were just her messenger.

There was only one thing to do, ignore him, no matter what.

“Y/n, wait up.” You heard from across the hallway behind you. You knew that voice—nishimura’s. It was unforgettable—almost making you turn back, but you had to control yourself. You brought this apon yourself, you were only supposed to watch from far, not get close and fall inlove.

You saw him from a reflection, the stupid look on his face. He seemed like he felt dumb, chasing like a dog after you, and for what? You were the one avoiding him, why is he the one who feels bad about himself.

After a week of nishimura trying to get a hold of you, he eventually gave up. He blew up your phone many times knowing you’d never be able to explain your horrible behaviour in person. That’s when you decided to write him one and only message to try and get him to stop;

You: I don’t like you, please stop

It wasn’t normal for you to act this harsh, ever. You never behaved like this but you know deep down that him trying to get your attention just makes you think about him more. You made it seem in your message that you didn’t want him to text back, but really—you hoped he’d make an argument so that you could act clueless, just so you have an excuse to yourself, to message him a little more.

read yesterday

Fast forward, 2 weeks before the end of the school year.

It was soon to be exam week, but it was different this time—you didn’t have a miracle pop up to help you like last semester.

You were at the library, waiting for Giselle and your other friends from school—including some that go to giselle’s. As you were waiting, your eye kept shifting to the couch infront of you—where ni-ki was at.

You and ni-ki used to always study at this library, that’s mostly why you came here. He always kept to himself and stayed with the unpopular people—people you didn’t know, so you never had the chance to ask anyone about him. You knew nothing about him anymore. Your friendship with him ended as fast as it started—reminder, all. because. of. you.

A few minutes later, you spot Giselle and her friends walk in. “Omg! Y/n!!! Long time no seee! When was the last time we hung out? March break? It’s been sooo long.” Said one of the girls as she ran to hug you. “Hii ellie, yah it’s been a while heh..” you replied. Giselle watching in amusement and joining in “okay get off her, I wana’ sit next to my cutie y/nnieee”.

“Hey, Giselle. Psst, Giselle” Whispered Ellie. “What is it?” “Who’s that guy from across us? Don’t make it obvious, just pretend you’re looking at the painting behind him..” You realized she was talking about Ni-ki—and without thinking, you talked back—“that’s Ni-ki!” You said in excitement, as if you were waiting to get a chance to talk about him.

Giselle looked a little shocked at your tone of voice who seemed to be said with a little more enthusiasm than intended. “Yeah, that’s Nishimura Riki” she told Ellie. “Wait, wasn’t that one of the guys you wanted to try and hook up with?” Hanni questioned, another girl who was at the table.

Your ears went from big to huge the second she asked that question, wanting to know her thoughts about ni-ki now. “Oh yah, but he’s too.. I don’t know he’s too mysterious. Need’ me a frat boy like Lee Heeseung or Sim Jaeyun. Plus, he’s leaving soon.” What? He’s leaving? “Where is he leaving to?” you asked, to which she replied “Japan, his homecountry.”

You stared at him from across the room, analysing his every move, hoping he’d look back at you.

You waited until all your girl friends left—obviously, ni-ki still there—studying to make sure he gets well. Unlike you, he got all the hard subjects second semester—and being a senior Doesn’t help it.

You stood up, feeling a little weird. You were the one disrespecting him, yet you’re the one going back to him. You had your reason for what you did, but it was never a valid reason.

You walked towards him, his gaze still focused in his books. As you got closer, he instinctively looked at you, following a long eye roll from him.

You thought he was going to speak, maybe ask what you want from him, but he didn’t say anything— he just, stared at you.

“I-im sorry, ni-ki.” You mumbled. His eyebrows furrowed, “don’t you think you’re a little late?” He said, chuckling to himself, all the memories coming back to both your minds. “I-I know I was wrong, I swear I had a reason! It seemed important to me back then but—I realized now how stupid it was and I’m just sorry, okay? You don’t need to forgive me but—“

“Y/n” he interrupted you, taking your wrist and sitting you down next to him. He let you adjust in place before he leaned in, his lips slightly brushing your ear, “if you’re so sorry, then explain everything.”

“No.. I can’t say it, it’s just—personal.” You couldn’t tell him that your friend liked him, that’s like … betraying Giselle! “Fine then, whatever.” He spoke, his voice turning cold.

You and him sat there in silence. He went back to his work as you just sat there. He didn’t order you to leave, he didn’t leave, you didn’t excuse yourself either. You figured to just open your books and pretend study again—just so you could sit a little longer with him.

You started drawing random doodles on a paper to make it seem like you were working, it’s not like ni-ki would take a glance at your papers anyway, right? He didn’t care.

You started thinking to yourself, ‘how could you I ever tell ni-ki why I acted like that? I miss him so much. Why did Giselle ever have to lay her eyes on him?’ Not realising that you were actually writing down your every thought onto the paper until ni-ki shifted a bit in his seat, making you come back into reality and quickly scribbling on everything you wrote.

the day of flight xxx

It’s finally summer. But it feels as if a rock has just landed on your head. You won’t see Nishimura anymore in the hallways, you won’t see him for a while actually. Deep down, the thought made your heart ache. Matter of fact, you don’t even know when he’ll be leavi-

Notifications — INSTAGRAM -> Choi Soobin posted a photo: Goodluck in Japan, Dude!

Now? He’s leaving.. now?! Before your brain could process anything that was happening, you jumped from your bed, took your keys and sprinted to the car.

As you walked into the airport, you realized what you just did. You just drove to the airport for ni-ki—the guy YOU ghosted—the guy that gave you a chance to speak after doing him so wrong, yet you still chose not to. There’s no going back anymore.

You were able to track his flight on this app you had, so you know he still hasn’t boarded his plane yet. Though, one thing you couldn’t track was—his gate number.

Luckily, the world was on your side today—spotting Soobin just as you were thinking of plans on how to find Ni-ki in the huge airport. You sprinted towards him. “Soo-SOO-SOOBIN!” You panted, attempting to catch your breath after running. “NI-KI..! GATE? WHERE” You questioned, your hands gripping his shoulders aggressively—unable to form a full sentence.

To which he respond with, “woah, ‘wonder what you’re doin’ here.. calm down, Gate B3” “THANK U”

you ran all over the airport, you asked 3 different workers, just to find his gate. It’s too late to make effort now, but you couldn’t imagine riki leaving without you seeing him again and giving a proper goodbye.

After running around like a lost dog, you finally did it—you found him. He was sitting in the corner of lined seats at the gate in the back, near the window, his eyes glued to his phone.

You ran to him, the sound of your heels against the floor making everyone stare at you—including ni-ki who raised his eyes from his phone, surprised to see you.

“Ni-ki..” you muttered, your voice cracking a little. You didn’t expect yourself to get emotional so fast. “Ni-ki, I’m so sorry—Im sorry for everything. I know what I did was wrong. I’m sorry. Someone else liked you and I know I couldn’t like you aswell , I’m sorry” You continued, “I didn’t want to stay with you because I felt as if I was just playing a game since I knew we could never get together but now I don’t care anymore.. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you spat out all at once. You didn’t even know if the words came out right from the amount of stuff you had in mind.

“Why are you saying sorry?” The black haired boy said as he chuckled, standing up and towering over you—slowly brushing off hair strands that sticked because of the tears that you ugly-sobbed out. You looked at him in confusion. “W-why—hic—why are you laughing?..”

he pulled you into a hug, his arms overlapping themselves on you. “Why are you apologising?” He pulled away slightly to look at you with a smile, “you can just say you like me.”

“By the way.. I saw what you wrote the other day in your notebook. You're so stupid..”

BONUS:

rikiwasntcatched: okay guys thanks she came to me and I think we’re inlove, it’s like some kdrama type shyt’

wonbinparkk: did it actually work?

partyneedssoobin: hell yah man. I’m telling you she was goin’ crazy when she saw me. She’s inlove with niki bro. Now all u gots to do is hide out for 2 days then say you’re comin back to Korea and boom problem solved

younghooney: hold up, kiki isn’t actually going to japan?

Rikiwasntcatched: she was so cute she was crying I was like gang chill I still love u or whateverrrrr I know I’m so handsome but no need to sob about it

partyneedssoobin: LOL we both won, I got Giselle and u got y/n from this incident.

wonbinparkk: who tf tells their bf about their old huzz? That’s like mad weird…

rikiwasntcatched: a win is a win what can I say. Movie night?

Younghooney: why am I being ignored

partyneedssoobin: chat my application to Harvard just got declined wtf

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | 10.5

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 2k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, infidelity, flirting, kissing/making out, there is trouble everywhere quite frankly…. gonna dip once i post bcos i know this is bad but there’s def another future 0.5 chapter that might be worse

⇢ POSTDOC | YR 2.5

"Babe." Iseul whines a bit, making San mimic her pout before tapping her nose.

"Love. How about I take you out this weekend to make up for it? We can go somewhere, just us two."

"Okay, but it'd be better if you could do that and come hang out tonight, too." 

"I'll try."

"San." 

"I'll try." He chuckles. "I should really finish up behavior tonight and that review for the paper we're working on. I'm already behind."

"Who said? You still have time."

"I have to get this done by next week." He gives her a sympathetic smile before placing a kiss on her forehead. 

"Next week."

"I'll try and get it done so I can hang out with you two, k?" He cups her cheeks. She can't help but continue to pout and cross her arms, even when he kisses her on the tip of her nose and on the lips. Part of her continues to have a soft spot for her man, the love of her life. 

Part of her wants to continue being supportive because she loves seeing San excel in his craft, she loves being by his side throughout all his achievements and vice versa. She feels like together, they can conquer the world together— be unstoppable, reach the top.

The other half, maybe more than half at this point, is sad. Empty. She longs for the man she fell in love with, she longs for his company. His time. His effort. 

His kisses, his cuddles. Everything.

Iseul never thought the lines would blur.

"Okay?" San repeats, causing Iseul to return her full attention on him. She gives him a small smile and nod, San's thumbs caressing her cheeks. "Better." He subtly bites his lip before caressing her chin. "C'mere." He leans forward to peck her lips again, and again.

And again.

Before they're both standing near her car, kissing under the late afternoon sun. Iseul tugs on San's shirt, deepening the kiss as she pulls him closer. He softly groans against her lips, Iseul's hand slowly traveling down to his belt. 

"Baby." He pulls back and chuckles. 

"We can be quick." She chases after his lips and presses small, repeated kisses against them before he's gently prying her off and shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, baby. I gotta go." She whines again before he's kissing her one last time on the lips and forehead. "You can have me all you want later tonight. And tomorrow. And the weekend."

"Ugh. I hope you know how much I'm sacrificing so you can hurry and finish." He laughs.

"I love you."

"Love you, too." She sighs, watching as San waves before doing a light jog back to the building. She slips into her car and connects a call to the bluetooth just as she pulls out of the parking spot.

"Yo!" Yunho answers the call almost immediately.

"Hey. What can I bring to your place for tonight?"

"Hm. Soju? I think I'm almost out." Yunho hums. "Chips and any other snacks."

"Okay, so everything? What do you even have at home?"

"Me, myself and I." Iseul laughs. 

"Uh. So much for inviting us over when you don't even have anything ready."

"I'll whip something up, don't worry! Why the doubting?"

"Alright, boss. Counting on you then."

"You know what else I need?"

"What, Yunho?" He chuckles.

"You." It’s meant to be a lighthearted joke; nothing more, nothing less. But, it does something to Iseul and Yunho knows it well enough by this point.

"You're so sappy. Quit it." She blushes to herself, biting her bottom lip even though she playfully scolds him.

"Nah. It's kinda fun seeing you all flustered."

"Hate you."

"Sad. I don't." She shakes her head and smiles. "Sliding through soon?"

"Yeah, I'm just gonna freshen up and change at the house first after grabbing groceries."

"San is coming?"

"He said he'll try and wrap up quick so he can join."

"Ah, okay." Yunho sighs a bit. It's been awhile since he's been able to hang out with his bestfriend, but he understands how important his work is right now. He tries to be, at least. He knows how it all goes. 

He just wishes San would give himself more time to relax. Enjoy life a little bit, just like he used to.

"I'll see you in a bit then."

"Mhm. I'll text you when I'm on the way."

"How exciting."

"Shut up." She ends the call. Suddenly, those dark, sad feelings she felt earlier are gone. Suddenly, she's happy. She feels a bit giddy. Excited.

Iseul isn't really sure when the line started to blur. 

But somehow, they're here and Yunho isn't sure how they'll go back and undo whatever they've created between each other. He knows this shouldn’t even be a thing. He should feel like some sort of last resort, a rebound— like he's the cushion that keeps Iseul company solely because San isn't around. Yunho knows there shouldn't be much to it.

So, why is there more to it?

It must have been all the kick-its with friends, all the lunches and casual dinners. It must have been the exchanged texts with stupid [but silly] memes or tweets the other would appreciate. It must have been the calls just to check in with each other. It must have been the subtle, lingering looks. 

Accidentally brushing hands.

Teasing and poking fun at each other.

Flirty undertones.

Saying shit to make the other smile or laugh.

San would have just assumed they were being normal around each other. They had always been close anyway, but he says that because he doesn't catch the small acts in between. 

The very small, but clear and intentional acts.

For a minute, Iseul thought it was a phase because Yunho was there like he had always been. But then, the feelings and the thoughts stayed for longer than a phase; piled up over weeks and weeks.

Until she realized what it meant.

So, she tried to distract herself and force herself to understand that it was truly just a phase. When San was around, she'd affectionately hug him. Kiss him. Cuddle him. Pull him to bed and make him cum over and over again to feel satisfied, to feel like she was still wanted by her man.

His moans and the loud calls of her name the only thing granting that satisfaction. Even though, could she say the affection behind it was genuine?

Clear, intentional?

Who's to say?

Especially when she's happily skipping down the aisles in the grocery store, grabbing the soju that both she and Yunho like; the one that San doesn't really like as much but he'll deal and make do. Especially when she's throwing on a form-fitting zip-up and leggings, trying to come off as comfy, but alluring. Especially when she sprays her perfume and dabs on a bit of lip gloss for a lazy kick-it that’s staying behind doors and enclosed walls.

Especially when she walks through the door to greet Yunho with a big hug— one that has him swinging her around before they plop onto the living room floor and get started on the drunk, scary indie movie and short film marathon the three agreed to do as a way of de-stressing.

Especially when Iseul gets the dreaded but expected text from San, and she can't help but welcome back the same feelings of emptiness and disappointment from earlier.

san: running behind. i don't think i'll make it, love. i'm sorry. tell yunho i’m sorry, too.

san: i'll be home tonight - i'll make it up to you. this weekend, too. 😘 i'm all yours.

"He's not coming." Iseul says, taking another huge swig from their third soju bottle of the night, making Yunho nod silently.

"I'm sorry—"

"It's fine, don't be such a debbie downer." She laughs, playfully punching him on the bicep. Yunho catches her hand in his when she attempts to pinch him the second time around, making her pout in return. "Ouch!"

"Says you who was just about to punch me on the bicep, meanie." She giggles when he lets go of her hand. "I'll let it go. At least you're laughing and smiling."

"Yeah." She looks up at him. "You surely do make me laugh and smile."

"Good or bad way?"

"Good. How could that be a bad thing?"

"I don't know, you could just think I'm stupid." She snorts.

"Never."

"Well, good." Yunho smiles. "I like it when you laugh and smile."

"I like it when you make me laugh and smile, Yunho."

"Yeah?" He drunkly rests his cheek on the palm of his hand, elbow on the surface of the table. "What else do you like, Iseul?"

"A lot of things."

"Mhm." He hums in a sing-song tone before leaning closer to tease her a bit. "What are a lot of things? Name a few."

"Yogurt soju, melon bread, being in bed after a long day and letting the sheets engulf me. Reading in a hot bath with candles lit up. To name a few." She leans forward to match him. "I don't think I can say anything else."

"Why not?"

"Because other things could be bad for me."

"In what way specifically?"

"Just cause." Her voice is barely above a whisper, lips only inches away from Yunho's.

"Just cause? How bad could it be?" She subtly shrugs before her eyes are dipping down to his lips, back up to his eyes. 

"Dunno. You tell me." She distractedly says. 

"What if.. maybe.. it isn't a necessarily a bad thing at all?" There's a thick silence in the air, but no one wants to address the tension, the elephant in the room. So, after a few minutes of said silence, Iseul leans forward and just kisses him— somehow thinking it could address the tension or whatever elephant is hiding in the room.

And at first, it shocks Yunho.

He freezes because he knows this shouldn't have happened. It fucking shouldn't have happened and he should’ve put a stop to it ASAP. Because Iseul was San's and vice versa, they made vows and devoted their lives to each other in front of him, and they were good together.

Yunho isn't really sure when the line started to blur. 

But then, he finds himself chasing after her lips to kiss her again, and again— until things can't be stopped and San's texts are going unanswered while Iseul's phone sits on the coffee table and vibrates away.

Her and Yunho are no longer sitting around watching the short film that's on. It eventually plays a random video next because no one is paying attention to what’s happening in the background. Empty soju bottles are spread across the surface of the table, along with open bags of chips and empty bowls. TV serving its purpose as background noise, almost fighting with the loud kisses and subtle moans leaving their lips while Iseul continues to make a place for herself on Yunho’s lap.

Meanwhile, San tucks his phone into his pocket, shrugging off the entire thing after he had sent her a few more follow up texts with all his ideas on how to make up for tonight. And tomorrow. And the weekend. He felt bad, but he was genuinely excited to do things with Iseul. To take her out on dates, travel near and far with her just to be alone. Rekindle the flame. Bring back that love, passion, that had been slowly dying because of his own fault. 

It wasn't entirely uncommon for Iseul to let texts go unanswered, but he was only worried because he knew that initial 'sorry can't make it' text upset her. She was probably trying to distract herself and lean on Yunho. Which, San can't help but think that Yunho does a way better job of being there for her than he actually does as her husband. It kinda aches him to think about it, and he's not sure how to navigate his own feelings when he keeps replaying that bar scene in his head.

For San, there’s no use in figuring this out because he knows they're good friends. They get along well, and he should be glad that they do. There isn’t anything to worry about despite his mixed feelings and confusing thoughts.

But for Iseul and Yunho, there’s no use in figuring out when this all happened, why this all happened— because everything has become perfectly clear and defined. 

The small acts gone unnoticed no longer small and unable to be hidden.

Clear, intentional.

Now, the lines are no longer blurred.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme

[read-write-thrive]

Charles Rowland Week Day One — Cricket Bat/The Brawn

There were a lot of unexpected downsides to being a ghost. Sure, he got a best mate and a “life” he loved out of dying, but it wasn’t all sunshine rainbows and ice cream. And not just the major things like being chased or attacked on cases, neither! Small things were just as bad, especially when they snuck up on you

Take the mirror thing, for example. It’s really not an issue, right? Charles wasn’t vain or anything, he didn’t need to see himself in the mirror constantly. But you don’t realise how much you look in the mirror until it’s gone, really. All of a sudden your only perceptions of yourself is what you can see looking down and what you can remember. Charles had done his best to not think about it at all, but was rather suddenly confronted with his image issues about a year into being dead.

Well, “suddenly” isn’t quite right. Truth is, they’d just found a place to call theirs and were set on fixing it up. They hadn’t settled on a name for their detective agency yet, but they were getting there. At the moment all they were doing was cleaning the space as best they could to try and make it feel more homey.

You see, the place was, looking back, their reward for their first case. They’d taken to wandering London, just seeing the sights really, when recently they noticed the building. In slight disrepair, sure, but the weirder part was the poltergeist wreaking havoc on anyone who came near it. The living (un?)consciously avoided the place, but the boys hadn’t heard the gossip and were the next victims to its destruction. They couldn’t be killed, of course, but they could still be thrown about (and injured, apparently! Blasted iron—).

Edwin had already picked up a magical tome on their travels (which he’d then casually carried in his overcoat—Charles, who was still struggling to reimagine his clothing, was only a little jealous, he swore) and was thankfully able to use it to banish the poltergeist. They both took a hit or two, but Charles had realised early on that he needed to take the attention off Edwin in order for him to actually use magic. Charles had quickly rallied against the poltergeist, distracting it and taking the rest of the blows that came with that. Well, he’d tried to tackle the poltergeist first, get on the offense and all that, but that hadn’t gone well. So then he just took the hits until Edwin did his job.

Edwin, for whatever reason, had been right pissed about it in the days since. He kept his sentences short, kept his nose in that bloody book, and was overall being a cranky bastard. Charles was still sore from the fight (how ridiculous that ghosts could even be sore) and was frankly fed up with it. Time to tackle it head-on.

Though he could’ve taken the empty chair on the other side of the desk, Charles decided that being up close and personal was better for this talk. He marched up to the desk and sat on the ledge of it, arms crossed and looking down at Edwin, feet nudging the base of his chair.

Edwin didn’t even look up from the book, “Yes, Charles?”

Charles carefully took the book (bookmarked it, naturally, he wasn’t a monster) and set it aside as he spoke, “We need to have a chat, mate. Now, if you’ve got the time.”

Edwin let the book be taken, though his (stupidly broad, how does a sixteen year old even get built like that?? too fit for his own good and he doesn’t even know it, the wanker) shoulders remained tense. He quirked an eyebrow as he looked up at Charles, “Since you’ve taken my reading, I suddenly have the time. What is it you wish to speak about?”

Charles used his hand to motion at Edwin’s face, “All this. I get that you’re angry with me, though I have no clue why, but I need you to come out and say it, yeah? I’m not a mind reader.”

Sighing, Edwin properly faced Charles, “Fine. If that would please you. I am unhappy with how you handled our encounter with the poltergeist, and I was hoping you would apologise for it. I see that will not be happening.”

“Apologise?” Charles questioned, bewildered, “What the bloody hell did I do? I distracted the thing while you used your fancy magic to get rid of it!”

Edwin remained unimpressed, “I can handle myself, Charles. Your display of… masochism, shall we say— was unwarranted and reckless. We had no way of knowing what the poltergeist could do.”

“And? What, I was just supposed to let the thing do equal damage to both of us? Or let you take all the hits? You’re the one with the bloody book, mate, least I could do was give you time to read it.” Charles huffed.

“And yet your soul is less tempered than mine, so it is extremely likely that you will succumb to injuries at a faster rate.” Edwin snapped back, hands steepled in front of him as if this were all just obvious facts.

Bewildered, Charles tried to clarify, “What are you saying? I can’t take the same damage as you? Seriously?”

Edwin’s eyes, usually steadfast in maintaining eye contact, flickered down Charles’s form, then back up to his face.

Charles knew what that meant. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten looks like that, in conversations like these. Every time he tried out for a sport, every time he tried to stand up to his dad, every time he tried to keep up with his mates. Charles knew he was twiggy, alright? He didn’t put on muscle like the other lads did even doing the same sports and eating the same school-provided meals. Hell, even when he tried going above and beyond in eating meat and lifting weights all he did was get lean, not properly muscley. A fact which everybody noticed.

As a result, he’d get these looks. Right rude looks. As if it was funny to think of him being strong or holding his own in scraps. There were a few times his mates would egg him on to fight some other bloke twice his size to try and embarrass him. Maybe it wasn’t so harmless, looking back, but Charles usually scraped by by changing it into a race or just talking his way out of it. He knew they wanted to see him take a beating, even if they framed it as him “proving” that he was stronger than he looked. They’d give him that same look every single bloody time, as if he had to be bluffing and they were thrilled to call him out on it.

This was made all the worse by his dad of course—his dad who outright laughed in his face any time he tried to stand up or fight back. His dad who left just enough visible bruises and scars to make it seem like Charles was out fighting every break and losing every single one of ‘em. The teachers took it as another sign of Charles being no-good and brushed off any time he wanted to get treatment or lenience for the injuries. The other boys would laugh at the bruises and such, asking what Charles did to piss off his foe. Asking why he kept fighting if he was so obviously always going to lose. Just look at him—how would a scraggy thing like him ever win a fight?

So yeah, maybe Charles was a bit defensive about how he looked and how strong he was. It was all the worse by the mirror thing—was he skinnier dead? How would he ever know for sure? To top it all off, he’s dead. Not exactly like there’s a gym for ghosts, is there? Well, not that they knew of yet at least. And with his luck, a ghost gym wouldn’t do anything either.

Point is, Charles was practically stuck in this stupid thin appearance for the rest of his ghostly days. And he hated it. He hated it every time he went to check a mirror and saw nothing, forcing himself to rely on his memory. He hated it every time he struggled to manifest better clothes—Edwin kept telling him to just visualise, right, but how was he supposed to do that when he’d avoided visualising himself at all for years? What if he made it worse by visualising? Maybe he was a bit bigger since dying! Some unconscious thing helping him out or some shite. He didn’t want to risk making himself any skinnier!

It was ridiculous, all of it. But Charles was not about to take that same bullshit from someone he thought was better than all that.

“What, I’m too skin and bones for ya? Too weak? C’mon, tell me. I can take it.” He really couldn’t, truth be told, but he was ready to bluff his way through the hurt like always.

Edwin’s face scrunched up, “What the devils are you talking about? We’re ghosts, Charles, our appearances are entirely subjective. Not to mention they have little very bearing on this situation.”

Now it was again Charles’s turn to be confused, though he was still hunched up on the defensive, “Then what? What is it?”

“I do not want to see you hurt, alright?” Edwin snapped, “We do not know how to fix any injuries you might have sustained and you were completely defenceless! I was trying to focus on locating and performing the proper spell and there you were, ready to be obliterated in front of my very eyes!”

Charles gave a slightly relieved sigh. Edwin looked displeased at this, but Charles started speaking before Edwin had a chance to continue, “You’re mad at me because I scared you, is that it? Mate, I’m perfectly fine! We got that fucker out of here and I’m perfectly a-ok! Here I was thinking I’d properly mucked something up—“

“I am serious, Charles—“

“So am I!” Charles planted his hands on Edwin’s shoulders, forcing complete eye contact, “Look, as soon as we can, we’ll get our hands on some weapons for me to use alongside your fancy magic books. Hell, maybe you can make me one for all we know on magic!”

Edwin again went to reply, but Charles wasn’t finished.

“I’m flattered you care, and thank you for looking out for me, but I promise I’m stronger than I look. Get me a bat or something and, with you and your magic, I’m happy to take on any future baddies we come across, yeah?”

Edwin sighed again, but it was clear his icy demeanour was melting, “I suppose we can have that be our next move, now that we have a headquarters for ourselves.”

Charles all but cheered, ecstatic to have actually resolved their little spat, “That’s the spirit! I’ll be the brawns, you be the brains, and our Ghostbusters agency will be brills!”

“For the hundredth time, Charles, we are not naming our detective agency after some film!…”

—

Day one of @charles-rowland-week in the books! I make no promises to have something for every day/prompt bc my life is a mess (as per usual) but I wanted to at least do one :) hope y’all enjoyed it !!

[kiame-sama]

Hey, question. How many requests are we able to send in before you get annoyed with us? I'm not talking about sending in two three requests a day, but like, how many a week? Obviously, not every request, complement, or drabble is going to get a reply - as is expected of any blog, but especially one of this quality - so waiting until a response isn't the move. In theory, since I am an anon, if I didn't announce my presence, you would have no idea it was me popping up in your inbox with frequency, but since I'm named, not telling you it's me would feel... scummy and disrespectful. So, yeah. How many things can we send to your inbox before you go from, "Oh, it's them!"(/pos) to "Oh... it's them."(/neg). ~Wolf-non

That depends.

If they are different in nature from one another (ie. One request about harpies, and one request about Divus) I usually go "oh yeah, it's this person! Alright, you go funky lil anon." But if they are the same over and over with only slight variation (ie. I WANT PENGUIN SIRENS and CAN YOU MAKE ONE OF THE GUYS A PENGUIN BECAUSE I LOVE PENGUINS SO MUCH??? and I WANT TO BE A PENGUIN, SO YOU NEED TO MAKE THE HUMAN A PENGUIN FOR ME BECAUSE I WANT IT) I will get annoyed and angry and will be tempted to share the horrific facts about said animal that I know just to make them be quiet and stop messaging me about that topic.

This is unfortunate because anyone else who sends in a request that has the same topic (since I can't tell between anons that don't identify themselves) will suffer the same punishment even if they were not the problem because they are similar enough requests to the problem anon. (Hence why I refuse to take any hxh requests involving Kurapika because one person thought it a good idea to spam me with almost identical requests repeatedly about Kurapika, now I just dislike writing for the character due to their actions.)

(Person who keeps demanding I make one of the guys (WHO I HAVE ALREADY DECIDED SPECIES FOR) into a penguin simply because you are obsessed with penguins and continuously demand more penguins in MY writing, I will come UNGLUED and you will be blocked. My patience has set limits and you are exceeding them very quickly.)

I also have an unfortunate tendency to just delete any request similar to the one that angered me and avoiding what they want rather petulantly due to my irritation. In example of the penguin anon that won't leave me the hell alone about penguins, I will not be adding a penguin character or anything to do with penguins until they stop annoying the hell out of me with their demands for penguins. I am not a pet that does tricks when you scream and demand, I will block nuisances who see it fit to prod at me for their own amusement.

I can block on anon and will do so if annoyed enough. I will not be hearing any "please unblock me, I didn't mean to make you angry!" After 5+ near identical requests about the same thing over and over or demands that I adhere to what they want in my writing.

That's not to say I don't understand when Internet connection is shoddy and can send the same request 3 times due to unstable network, but 5 is excessive and the person better have a good explanation for why they saw fit to send it 5 times. I also like suggestions and ideas about going forward, but I LOATHE demands. A good part of my AuHD has extreme issue with Demands and Commands, especially from people I don't know/respect as an authority.

[ilguna]

☼ neck in neck (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; he just can’t seem to accept the fact that you’re better than him. so now, to defend himself, he’s calling you a copycat in the capitol because of this stupid tattoo. when really, it has a deeper meaning.

warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption, vague threats to violence.

wc; 4.7k

notes; i talk about snow in a """good""" light bc there is no prostitution, not that you can tell in this imagine but still lol.

--

“Ugh, I just love the cocktails here!” Cashmere shouts over the music with a grin on her face. She’s leaned in close enough for you to smell the alcohol on her breath, but she’s trying to make sure you can hear her. “They’re intoxicating!”

“Do they have anything strong?” You ask back, squinting at the liquor they have behind the counter. 

“It’s the Victory Spot!” She laughs, “Of course they do.” 

Cashmere stands on her tiptoes, even though she’s tall and there’s no need to make herself bigger, but then she leans on the counter. She reaches over, grabs a laminated paper, and then sets it down in front of you.

It’s a menu.

You squint through the darkness, reading the long list of finely printed drinks, until you find one that’s going to get the night started on the right foot. You place your finger beneath the name, and then look up to find the nearest bartender. Only, there’s already one hovering over you and Cashmere, she’s just waiting for you to order.

“I’ll take the carnivore.” You smile. “Will you add an extra shot? I don’t care which liquor.”

The bartender raises her eyebrows. “Are you sure? It’s pretty strong.”

“(Y/n) has a high tolerance.” Cashmere chips in, “You won’t be killing her.”

She closes her eyes, shaking her head as she backs off the counter. “If there is a funeral, don’t invite me.”

You let out a laugh, turning to face Cashmere while the drink is made. “So, what’s new in the world of District One?”

“The usual shit.” She rolls her eyes. “The mentors before Gloss and I are complaining about the lack of victors in our district recently. And they’re blaming it on our mentoring style, but none of them want to take over.” She shrugs. “Apparently we have appearances to upkeep.”

“There’s been a streak lately.” You wave your hand. “Since I won it’s been nothing but districts that haven’t seen a victor in a good couple years.”

“And I see nothing wrong with that.” Cashmere shrugs.

“Agreed.” You murmur, watching the pattern of flashing lights.

While the Hunger Games are supposed to be a competition between the districts, you’re not selfish enough to be disappointed that other districts are taking home their children. There’s plenty of anger to go around, of course, but it’s not aimed at the mentors around you. It’s directed at the Capitol.

“Here’s your cup of death.” A voice says behind you. 

You glance over your shoulder first to look at the drink the bartender has just made you, a smile coming over your face when you see the dark red color. You pull out your metal card that’s provided by the Capitol for your monthly allowance. Except, it’s pretty much useless in District Two because everything is handled in cash, but you can’t use cash here because they think it's dirty. 

And it’s outdated.

She takes the card from your fingers, and you watch as a brief wave of impression crosses her face, something you’re not unfamiliar to. The heavier the card, the wealthier you are. It’s not super common for Capitol citizens to have such a luxury.

You lift the glass, watching the cubes of ice dance inside. As soon as the liquor hits your tongue, you know you don't need another drink tonight. This will be enough to get you loose, but not inebriated enough to not get back to the Tribute Center. 

You take a larger sip, the bartender slides the card back to you.

“Taxi services are listed by the door.” She points to where you entered from.

“I like to walk.” You wink at her, and then you look at Cashmere. “Where to?”

“This way.” She cocks her head to the side, walking into the crowd of people. 

You follow behind her, not really paying attention to the bodies, or those who bump into you. There’s even a few hands that caress at your skin, desperate for the attention that you’ll never give. Not without a price, at least.

There’s a few high tops that are open on this side of the room. Cashmere chooses the one pressed against the wall, allowing you to pick your chair first. Out of habit, you slide onto the one that allows you to get a clear look at the door, in case anything were to happen. And since Cashmere has no preference, she happily slides into the seat across from you.

“Okay, I’m ready.” She says, swirling her glittery drink. “What has Finnick been saying about you this year?”

“We haven’t even been in the Capitol for three days and he’s been calling me names to all my regular sponsors.” You press your lips together. “I’ve been building up this clientele for years, I can’t afford to lose them, if I actually want to have a chance this year. He knows this.”

“He’s just upset because he thinks you’re taking his mentoring style, right?” She asks.

You let out a breath of air. “You mean the mentoring style that the Career districts have been doing since the beginning?” You ask back. “The original Career districts?”

She makes a face. “I still don’t understand how they’re a part of the pack.”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t see how fish can be that great of a luxury but I’m not the one who lives here.” You raise your hands defensively. “All the times I’ve had it, it tastes as good as it smells.”

Cashmere smiles.

“Anyway, besides him calling me names, he’s also telling them that I don’t keep my promises and I never had. That’s why I haven’t been able to bring a tribute home.” You nod. “Because I’m just one big fraud—a scam artist. A wannabe.”

“A wannabe?” Cashmere repeats.

“That’s what I was told by one of the richer women.” You smile. bitterly “And then she went right back to ignoring me. I can’t talk sense into any of them now. It’s like they wanted to give me an explanation, just so they could stonewall me.”

You take a drink of the carnivore, getting a little enjoyment from the burn in your throat as it goes down.

“I would try, but we both know how that would end.”

“Yeah, there’s no point in getting us both blacklisted in the Capitol.” You agree. “I wish there was something I could do about it.”

“You could confront him.” Cashmere suggests with a shrug, taking a sip of her drink. “Set things straight.”

You snort, “The only way I know how to do that is with my fists, and something tells me that won’t go over well with President Snow.”

“Your fists?”

“Actions speak louder than words.” You smirk.

She shakes her head, staring down at the table for a couple of seconds. “Do you think roughing him up would actually work?”

“Are you kidding? I’d probably get crucified.” You sit back in your chair. “He’ll always be the Capitol favorite, I’m just a close second.” 

“Guess you’ll have to have a heart-to-heart with him.”

You mock a gag, pressing a fist to your mouth. “You think he has a heart? He’s knowingly taking sponsors away from innocent teenagers.”

“Innocent.” She laughs. “Our tributes are hardly that.”

“They are until they get their hands bloody.” You tell her. “They’re still children.”

For the next hour, you talk to Cashmere about your tributes becoming allies, their strengths and weaknesses, and the likeliness that they’ll end up pairing with the Four tributes—whether you like it or not. At the rate they’re currently going, they haven’t shown any interest in Finnick’s tributes, but that doesn’t mean they won’t change their minds later on.

Cashmere then offers to talk to her sponsors about teaming up with you, at least until your situation is sorted. You take her up on it, except you ask her not to go through with anything just yet. If it’s possible, you’d like to continue to use the people you’ve gotten to know these past couple years.

Which means that you need to have a conversation with Finnick at the first given chance.

The night ends early when one of the bartenders approaches your table and tells you that Cashmere’s escort is calling around to see where she’s at. As an apology for interrupting your conversation, he drops off two shots and then goes back to the bar.

Cashmere rolls her eyes, sliding off her seat. “I should get back, he’s been up my ass lately about making sure I’m present for mentoring. As if Gloss doesn’t attend everything.” She motions to the shots on the table. “Take mine for me, will you? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure.” You wave her off, she gives you a cheeky smile.

You watch her disappear into the sea of bodies, before you turn to the shots. With a shake of your head, you throw back the liquor, one after the other. You arrange the glasses neatly on the table before getting to your feet, straightening out your skirt.

It can’t be any later than midnight, and the place seems like it’s packed from wall to wall. You carefully navigate your way to the bar, figuring it’ll be easy to leave from there. The bartender that served you the carnivore earlier gives you a wave on your way out, and you lift your hand as a courtesy.

As soon as you step on to the colorful Capitol street, the warm July air kisses your skin, cooling you down. You stare down the block for a couple of seconds, enjoying the peace, before you have to go back to the Tribute Center and deal with your own version of crazy. 

You’re so sick of being bossed around by your escort, but you were warned by one of the stylists that if you keep intentionally screwing with her, then you were going to get in trouble. Apparently she’s already started the process of getting in contact with Snow, and she’s just waiting for an excuse to tell him everything.

You’re not really afraid of what will happen if she does tattle on you to the President, you think he would get your side of the story first before making any final decisions. It’s the fact that she’ll be smug after that’s making you hesitate. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction. 

After a minute or so, you turn to continue down the street, heading in the direction of the Tribute Center. It’s not that long of a walk, you’ll be there in less than fifteen minutes. Despite this, you’re sure that Cashmere will still call a taxi to get home, she was wearing a nice pair of heels.

You really don’t know what to do about this situation with Finnick. As nice as it would be to pull him aside and talk your feelings out, you’re not that type of person. When you suggested settling the situation with your hands, you were only partially kidding.

After everything he’s done to you these past couple of years, it would be well deserved. He’s got his head so far up his ass that he thinks you’re following his every move. When in reality, you’re just using the strategies that are being taught to you by the mentors in the past.

Lyme, especially.

If you do decide to throw him around, he has it coming, so you won’t entirely feel bad about it. The only issue is that you come from a family where fighting your problems out is the usual. He won’t be able to defend himself as easily. 

You’ll have to deal with the repercussions, though. Finnick is a Capitol favorite, he gets everything he wants from his team, and sometimes even the President. If you so much as leave a bruise on his golden skin, you’ll bet that they’ll have you replaced in the Capitol forever. You won’t be welcome back, and you’re not sure if you’re willing to give that up just yet.

Either way, you’ll have to figure it out soon. Preferably without the help of that idiot they sent you here with. If they were trying to piss you off, they did a great job of it. He’s notorious for leaving all the work to the female mentors so he can do all the schmoozing, but as soon as he heard of what was happening with the sponsors, he holed himself up in his room. 

Hopefully he stays there.

You take a shortcut through an alley that should lead you right to the front doors of the Tribute Center. The streets of the Capitol are safe, you never have to worry about some creep hanging around, only the workers of the shops. Even then, they’re not really that intrusive, they just want to get through the night so they can go home.

There’s no one here except for you.

About halfway through the alley, it gets incredibly dark because of a light that’s out above one of the doors. This doesn’t bother you, all you do is keep your eyes on the ground to avoid stepping on any trash that might have gotten flung by accident.

A sharp pain seizes your left forearm, so sudden and unexpected that you think someone has just stabbed you. Without a second thought, you throw your entire body into a punch behind you, but it catches nothing. Your momentum works against you, bringing you down to the pavement.

You collapse in a puddle of what you can only imagine is garbage juice. The little care you have for the integrity of your clothes is gone the moment the pain spreads in two different directions, the feeling of pins and needles stabbing at your arm. You clutch your skin in a tight grip, squeezing your eyes closed and rocking, wishing it would stop.

And it does.

You sit for a minute, taking some deep breaths while you carefully look over your arm, needing to know what happened. It doesn’t look like anything has changed, but there is a smudge of dirt that’s being stubborn. You leave it for now, you’ll scrub it off in the shower when you get back to the Two apartment.

As soon as you get back to your feet, your skirt suctions to your skin, as well as your nice shirt, which is most definitely ruined now. You let out an annoyed sigh, as you continue through the alley and back onto the main sidewalk. A street light illuminates where you stand, allowing you to get a clear look at your arm.

You hold it out, expecting to see mud, but you’re met with something much more permanent—a tattoo. What you had thought to be a mess of dirt on your arm, is actually a freshly carved tattoo, just beneath the inside of your elbow. You press your lips together at the sight of your irritated skin.

You have a soulmate, and either they can afford to get a tattoo in the districts, or they’re somewhere here in the Capitol. And judging by the handiwork, you think it’s the latter.

Before you can even give yourself a moment to wonder who might be on the other side of it, your feet begin to move. Right now, you need to get this cleaned if you don’t want it to get infected. You’ll have plenty of time to figure out who you’re meant to be with when you wake up tomorrow.

—

Copycat.

It’s what you’ve been called all day. From the moment you woke up and walked out of your bedroom, to just five minutes ago in the sponsorship room surrounded by Capitol people. It’s driving you up the wall, and it’s because of the mark on your arm.

“Copycat,” Hannes—your fellow District Two mentor—said as soon as his eyes found the tattoo on your arm. “Did you really get that last night?”

“Yes and no.” You told him, dragging your feet to the dining room table, where breakfast had been recently served. “Copycat?”

He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. “What do you mean? Did you get it this morning?”

“No, I’ve been sleeping since I came back from the Victory Spot with Cashmere.”

Hannes squinted at you, not at all convinced. “You’re not a very good liar. Where’d you get it?”

“I’m not lying.” You told him. “I got it in an alleyway.”

He sputtered out a laugh, coming up the steps to get a closer look. “You got that in an alleyway? Who’d you have to pay to get that sort of intel?”

“What are you talking about?” You stared at him. “Intel on what?”

Hannes elongated his neck a little bit, trying to decipher if you were fucking with him or not, but you weren’t.

After a long pause, he said: “Finnick, obviously.”

“Hannes, what about Finnick?”

“He got the same exact tattoo last night. I was with him and Gloss at the tattoo shop on the corner. The one down the road from Sugar and Spice.”

In that moment, you felt all the blood run from your face, the expression on your face dropping completely. Finnick. Finnick got the same exact tattoo last night? Finnick is the one that you’re supposed to be with for the rest of your life? Is this some sort of joke?

“Did you not think anyone would notice?”

“Holy shit.” You murmured, sitting back in your chair.

“You’re a fucking copycat.”

“I’m not a copycat, you moron.” You snapped back. “Leave me alone.”

It couldn’t stop there, of course. When you got dressed for the sponsors, you tried to look nice by wearing a summery dress with a cute pair of wedges. Usually, you go for an expensive set, trying to look like you come from wealth, but you were hoping that if you took a page from Cashmere’s dress, then maybe it would be easier to get through to them.

Unfortunately, it did not work. In fact, you think you set yourself up for violence, because you practically got verbally assaulted by the Capitol people that hang around Finnick the most. You have thick skin, so nothing they could say would ever get you riled up, but it kept coming.

And then it began to encourage the people around them. By the time Cashmere and Gloss were finally arriving, you were fuming. Your skin was hot to the touch, and you were grinding your teeth.

“You look like you want to kill someone.” Cashmere told you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Why are you so warm?”

“Is that a tattoo on your arm?” Gloss asked without giving you a chance to answer his sister first. “Wait—”

“I did not get this tattooed last night.” You told him, steely eyes encapsulating him into a stare down, challenging him to call you some form of a copycat.

“Well, how could you? You went right home after the bar, right?” Cashmere asked, reaching to grab your arm to get a better look.

Gloss had a question on his tongue, eyes wide as he looked between the mark on your arm and your face. He knew that if he said the wrong thing, he would immediately get reamed, forcing him to reconsider his words carefully.

And you knew that he already knew who else had just gotten that tattoo on their body.

“Yes, I did. I even took a shortcut through an alley to get to the building quicker.” You told her through tight teeth.

Gloss opened his mouth, taking in a breath of air, and then it hitched. He changed his mind, not quite ready to ask you.

“So… this morning?” Cashmere asked, not paying attention to her brother. “When did you have time?”

“I haven’t.” You finally looked at her. “I did not get this last night or this morning.”

Gloss swallowed. “You know, Finnick was at a tattoo shop with Hannes and I last night.” He started slowly, testing the water.

“Oh, I’m fully aware. Hannes told me this morning, and I’ve been getting an earful from these assholes all afternoon.”

He pressed his lips together. “I don’t know what to say right now, because all I’m coming up with are ways that will get you pissed off more than you already are.”

“I am not a copycat.” You told him, then looked at Cashmere. “I got it in that alleyway last night.”

Her brow furrowed, eyes narrowing while she stared at you, trying to figure out what you were trying to subtly tell her. “Okay…?”

“Finnick has the same tattoo, Cash.” Gloss nudged her a little. “I watched him get it.”

Her eyes bounced down to what’s been permanently etched into your skin. “Soulmate mark?” She asked, her tone slightly hopeful.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You told her, “And now I have no choice but to talk it out with him.”

“You’ll be able to catch him tonight.” Gloss told you. “He’s free, he has no plans.”

“Good, because we need to settle this.”

After this, you went back to the apartment to change into something more casual, tired of appearances. You settled on a pair of jeans, sneakers and a long-sleeved shirt that would cover the damn thing. However, when you got to the sponsorship room to be with Cashmere and Gloss, it was infuriating.

It was like you became a zoo animal. Once word got out that you had gotten a tattoo exactly like Finnick’s, less than twenty-four hours from when he got it, everyone had to come and see. And while it did get incredibly busy, and it would’ve been perfect for networking—all people wanted to do was see the tattoo and ask you if you were proud of yourself. Or if you had a hard time being your own individual.

Which is rich coming from a group of people who talk, walk and dress the same. They have one collective mind and it’s controlled by the President, but it’s not like you could say that to them. 

So, you gave up for the evening and you’ve spent the rest of the night stewing in your room, waiting for everyone to go to bed so you can leave. As you step into the elevator, you jab your thumb into the four button on the box. The doors slowly slide shut, and then you’re sent a few floors up.

From what you understand, all the floor layouts for the Tribute Center are the same, so it should be relatively easy to get around. When the elevator stops, the doors open, revealing a differently decorated apartment. It’s incredibly cliche, with the seashells and sand vases with ocean paintings on the wall.

Something moves in the darkness, you step forward to place your hand on the doors to keep them from trying to close. You don’t move further than that, waiting to see who it is that’s in the living space. If it’s Lynnea—or whatever the girl mentor’s name is—you’ll have to come up with some lame excuse and go back down.

A low laugh interrupts the silence, as the person barely comes into sight. It’s Finnick, and he’s got this smug look on his face. You hate smug people.

“Well, look who it is.” He says slowly, you step out of the elevator. The doors close immediately, blocking off the light. But he’s prepared for this, because he reaches to the nearest table to flick on the lamp. “Come to scope me out and see what else you should steal from me? A tattoo wasn’t enough?”

“Are you stupid?” You shoot back, it comes out harsher than you mean for it to. “Genuinely. I thought that you had to be smart, considering your strategies, but you have to lack some common sense.”

“I’m stupid? The least you could try to do is be subtle.” He motions to your arm. “Nowhere else? In the exact same spot as me? I thought Hannes was kidding when he told me.” He shakes his head. “You had to be stalking me in order to get it that quick, and then you went to some alleyway artist to protect their identity? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You think I care about your life that much?” You laugh a little. “You don’t think it’s strange that I happened to get it the same night you did?”

“I figured it was a form of dedication.” He shrugs. “It wouldn’t be the first time you tried to follow in my footsteps.”

You open your mouth to correct him, but you remind yourself that you can’t get sidetracked. “It appeared on my arm.”

Finnick’s face twists, as if you’re trying to feed him a spoon of shit. “Tattoos don’t just appear on your arm. How fucking stupid do you think I am?”

You don’t take the bait. “They do in some cases.” You tell him, not wanting to outright give him the answer.

Honestly, it’s not like you really hate Finnick and the thought of being connected to him makes you sick. It’s because you want him to feel stupid for how he’s been treating you these past few years—especially this year. 

You don’t really care about him, usually you can stomach and brush off what he has to say, and the shenanigans he’s up to. You’re actually pretty similar in most ways, which is why his behavior doesn’t get to you. You have the same fashion taste, mentoring style, arena strategies, and more. And you only considered this to be a coincidence until recently.

It clicked in your mind this afternoon while you were changing. All the pieces have fallen into place since. You’ve always been drawn to each other, whether you liked it or not. It might’ve been romantic or friendly from the beginning if Finnick hadn’t already hated your guts. Instead, it just turned you into competitors.

“Like what?” Finnick asks, still actively being combative.

“Take a second and think about it.” You tell him, leaning against the wall. “I’ll even give you a hint; we have the rest of our lives to figure it out.”

The creases in his forehead get more defined while he turns your words over in his head. It doesn’t take long for him to realize what you’re telling him. His eyes dart to his forearm, where he rubs the tattoo on his skin, lips pressed together in a thin line. Then his arm drops. 

“We’re soulmates.”

“It explains everything, doesn’t it?” You ask him.

“Yeah, actually.” He looks up from the floor. “How long have you known?”

“I knew it was a soulmate mark when it appeared on my arm after the bar last night, but it was Hannes that actually indirectly told me it was you.”

He lets out a hiss. “This will be a hard one to explain to the Capitol.”

You shrug. “Tell them the truth, or don’t. Either way, I want my sponsors back.” You raise your eyebrows. “It’s unfair to turn them against me like that, especially since they’re not for me, they’re for my tributes.”

“That was Lynnea.” Finnick shakes his head. “She wanted them to come to us, instead. I’ll have a talk with them to make sure we set things straight.”

“You can’t blame it on Lynnea. Everyone has told me that you called me a wannabe.”

Finnick’s face twists. “Do I look like I call people wannabe’s?”

You squint at him. “Fine, I’ll let that go. Just tell Lynnea that if she wants to go home with a black eye, that’s the way to do it.” You press the button on the wall, and the elevator opens right back up. You step on, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Hey,” Finnick takes a step forward, you block the doors that have begun to close. “What are we going to do about this?” He asks, showing you the tattoo on his arm. “We live in two different districts.”

You stare at him for a couple of seconds, “I’m in no hurry to find out. It’s not like we don’t see each other every year for a month at a time.”

Finnick nods a little bit. “Goodnight, (Y/n). I’m sorry.”

“You’ll make it up to me.” You give him a cheeky smile, moving your hand away from the elevator door. “Goodnight, Finnick.”

[haileycantcometothephonern]

Scars

Spencer x fem!reader

Prequel fic to this part (but can be read alone)

CW: pregnancy, kidnapping, torture, angst, also a little bit fluff. (not proofread)

___________________________________

18 months ago

You felt the kicks before you felt the warm sun rays waking you up from your deep sleep. Your baby has been quite excited, you can tell. She is keen to meet her mom and dad, it seems. You open your eyes slowly and crack a smile at your very pregnant belly.

Sydney. That's what you both decided her name would be. Such a pretty name really. You immediately got up to make yourself some breakfast as your daughter isn't so calm when she starts to get hungry.

You then remember the absence of your husband. You really hoped he would be here before next week, as that's when your due date was and your daughter might come out any moment now. You didn't want Spencer to miss such a pivotal moment of your child's birth. You knew how much he looked forward to it.

As you make yourself some breakfast filled with all kinds of nutrients, your mind goes through all of your pregnancy journey. Spencer and you have always wanted to start a family and you were blessed with your angel a few months ago. You were both equally excited about the new edition to your family and made sure to do thorough research about how to ensure that she's safe and healthy.

Spencer was also very present these past few months, putting his foot down when he is needed here by you or your daughter. You really appreciated his support throughout your pregnancy but since a few weeks he has been quite busy. You understood that he can't keep putting off work to stay with you, but you also wanted him to do that for you. Maybe it was selfish, but you were also on the verge of giving birth to an entire human and you wanted your husband there to support you.

You thought back to the call with Spencer last night as you had your breakfast and wondered when you'll get another update from him. You eventually realized that you're focusing on him too much and he must just be really busy saving lives, so you ended up watching some movie on the TV.

Ring. Ring.

You were jolted awake from your morning nap by your phone's ringtone. You immediately hoped that it was Spencer calling to tell you that he's home bound.

"Hello"

"Hey, baby! How are both of my girls doing?" Spencer sounded tired.

"We're doing good, would do better if you're here with us though." You pouted.

"I know, love. I'm already on the jet, and wanted to check on both of you before we started. Will be there by evening." He sighed into the phone and you can feel him physically relax his shoulders. The case must have been a tough one, well tougher than usual anyway.

"Oh that's great news. I'll start on dinner soon. Love you baby, say love you to papa syd." You tried to make Spencer feel a bit less stressed and you honestly felt really glad that he'll be home soon.

"I love you both, stay safe until i get home." Spencer parroted back, and you can hear the caution in his voice.

You suddenly remembered that you forgot to inform about your doctor's call last night.

"Uh Spence, Dr. Min just called me yesterday. She wanted to see us tomorrow, I told her that I'll let her know if we can after I spoke to you today."

"What did she want to talk about? Is everything alright? Are you okay? Is Sydney okay?" He immediately questioned with worry.

"Yes, yes, we are completely alright. And Dr.Min did not tell me what it was about as she had some emergency and ended the call urgently. But I'm sure it's nothing serious." You said with a doubtful tone, you didn't want him to overthink it during the whole ride.

"It's okay, baby. I'll call Dr.Min, and ask her what it's about. Just take care." Spencer tried to reassure you and ended the call as the pilot was ready for take off.

You ended up taking another nap while snacking on some fruit platter as you were still full from your breakfast when you were once again woken up by a knock this time.

You checked who it was through the peephole first, Spencer instilled this cautiousness in you. It was just some delivery guy, maybe it was the new blanket you ordered three days ago for Sydney.

You excitedly open the door and were about to take your order when the delivery guy is pushed aside and you are being dragged out of your house by two really burly men. You wanted to scream, but they had their guns pointed straight at your belly. You gulped and cooperated with them.

"What do you guys want?" You tried not to sound so scared.

"Your husband knows what we want. Don't worry you'll get out of this unscathed if he listens to our demands." One of them replied and pushed you into a black jeep.

After that your memory goes pretty hazy, as you assume that they drugged you. You regain consciousness after a while, you don't know how long it's been but it was darker outside. You can see that through the only basement window in the room that you were held in. Yep, that's definitely a basement that you were in. You weren't scared as you had complete trust in your husband and his colleagues. You trusted them to save you and your baby.

You then heard some voices from outside the door. You remembered one of the voices was the man who brought you here. Just as you were about to concentrate on what they were talking about, the door to the room opened. In walked the two men who kidnapped you.

"Dr. Reid, as promised. Your wife is here, unscathed. Just get us that plane, our money, and Jason. We'll be out of your hair." He screamed into the phone, you assume Spencer is on the other side of.

"No I'm not going to do anything until you let me talk to her." Spencer tried to sound as neutral as he can, but even you can sense the fear in his voice.

"Alright, suit yourself." The kidnapper placed the phone near your ear. "Speak."

"Hello, Spence?"

You could hear the relief in his voice when he asks you to stay strong like you always do and that he'll be there to get you soon.

"Everything will be alright, baby. I'll be there."

And you believed him. Because why wouldn't you. You believed him with your whole being. You believed him. You made that choice. You let him deceive you. You let him deceive not just you, but also your daughter.

Spencer wasn't there. He wasn't there to save you. He wasn't there to save Sydney. He wasn't there when they cut you. When they left bleeding to your death. When they left Sydney to die with her mom. You still don't have complete memory of what happened after the call.

BAU unlike every other time, failed to deliver on their promise and failed to save you or Sydney. The kidnappers tried to get what they wanted by harming you, thinking that'll motivate the BAU to submit to their demands. But this time, the kidnappers were wrong.

Spencer found you that night, almost at the verge of dying. His heart stopped at the sight of you. Multiple cuts on your arms and your collarbone. One large gash on both of your wrists, blood flowing out uncontrollably. If only they were a bit faster, if only Hotch would have agreed to their demands. He knew that he couldn't blame anyone else but himself for what happened that night. He stayed by your side at the hospital until you regained your consciousness.

"Spence, What happened? Where am I? Where's Sydney?" Your frantic voice woke him up from his seat beside your bed. He looked like he'd been through some kind of apocalypse, maybe he was. His hair unwashed and disheveled. His beard, unshaven. His eyes, sunken, surrounded by pigmentation. He looked like he was crying non-stop.

Your thoughts immediately went back to that night.

"Sydney. Where's Sydney, Spencer?" You asked cautiously.

He looked like he was on the verge of tears and held your hands. His lips opened and closed, and tears started streaming down his cheeks.

"No, no, no. It can't be. No, not her. Spence." You were beyond frantic now. The tears came first.

You didn't want to believe that she was no more. Your love, your angel, your baby. Your Sydney.

You sobbed and sobbed and hiccups echoing off the hospital walls. Throughout it all Spencer held you, letting you express your grief. He had his time, although he thought no time could heal this wound. He wanted so badly to redo everything.

The BAU had all visited you and him, offering their condolences. Hotch showed up too, expressing his regret and guilt. Spencer assured him that he doesn't hold anything against him. You didn't reply to anyone. Not him, not his mom, not your parents, nor your friends. You didn't have anything else to say. You didn't know what one says when they feel like their soul has been snatched away. Their voice had been hijacked. Only thing you can know and feel for sure was the ache in your heart and the emptiness in your womb.

Days passed away before you knew it and it was finally time to go home. Spencer packed everything up from your hospital room and called out to you.

"(Y/N), It's time to go home baby." He whispered slowly placing his hand on your shoulder.

You looked away from the windows and towards him. Yes, nobody is at fault except Spencer. It was him who promised to keep you and your baby safe. But he was nowhere to be found on the day you actually needed him. He was the one who caused all of this. Your brain, filled with grief couldn't decipher what it was thinking or where your thoughts are taking you. You knew only one thing for sure, you wanted to hurt someone. You wanted him to hurt.

"Spencer you killed her. You killed my baby." Your voice was barely a whisper, you almost thought he didn't hear you. But the way his eyes dulled and filled with guilt showed you that he did hear it.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby." He said, he sounded wracked with guilt. He started sobbing.

That was the first time in a few days you felt some kind of sick relief. A part of you ached at seeing him like that. But the sick satisfaction over took every other feeling.

"Spencer, I'm going to hurt you until I can find peace. I promise, and I don't break them like you do." Your voice was filled with vitriol. Spencer never even imagined that you could look at him with such hatred in your eyes, but he was proved wrong today.

He knew he was going to be blamed for everything. And he blamed himself too. He was okay with taking everything from you, because he knew behind all that hatred and vitriol, there was love. So he was willing to be your punching bag for however long you want him to be.

You realized that Spencer was going to accept it. And you knew you were just getting started. Maybe this will end up hurting you both, but you felt like that's what the two of you deserved in the end. For failing to save her. Your Sydney.

_______________________________________

a/n: Not that satisfied with how this turned out, wanted to write fluff but it turned out into angst 😭😭. anyways i'm thinking of writing a fluff series next and maybe an angst one too. deleted one on my old blog, want to restart it.

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Butterflies! Kate Is Alive AU Part Two!

Butterflies!

Riley sat there, rather stunned. Despite everything Kate knew, it did not do more than confirm what Riley had already suspected. The information was interesting, for sure, but it didn’t lead them any closer to their goal. Then again, if it would then Kate wouldn’t have given up. I suppose. Riley thought to themself.

“Look, there are some tapes scattered around this room if you want to watch them…” Kate sighed.

“Are you going to stick around to watch them with me?” 

“No… I’ve already watched them all… over and over… you know that, I gave you my notes. But I suppose two eyes are better than one. Let me know if you catch something I guess…” she turned to leave. Riley had never heard her sound so drained before. “Wait! Amanda has been talking about you! She says she misses you, and wants to talk to you again! Please, just this once, will you watch a tape with me?” 

“Fine. But afterwards I really do have to go.” She pulled a tape out of a bug catching net and handed it to Riley, who put it in the VCR. 

The tape begins with Amanda coming out of a store, silently staring at an at-home butterfly habitat for kids. She seems content. There are little caterpillars crawling around inside.

“Don’t worry little guys… you’re safe. I’m going to take care of you…” She says gently in a soft, caring tone. The tape changes to Amanda’s living room, where she carefully carries the habitat into the room and places it on the couch. Wooly is already there.

“Whatcha got there Amanda?” he asks. 

“For today’s episode, we’re raising butterflies, remember?” 

“I think we did that in elementary school a long time ago…” Wooly remincises, “It was fun! Until all the butterflies… died for some reason. Hmm…”

“Well there is absolutely no way these ones are dying on my watch!” Amanda announces. She realizes that the episode has started already. “Oh, hi there! Didn’t notice you for a second, sorry. I’m Amanda!” she beams. There is an awkward pause, like Amanda is waiting for something, but Wooly seems to be staring into the distance, deep in thought. “I’m Amanda.” she repeats, but gets no response. “Whatever.” She scoffs and looks around for somewhere to put the habitat. She sees the lamp on the table and a devilish grin forms on her face. 

“Gee, I wish we had a TABLE to put this habitat on!” she says, looking at the screen smugly. Riley taps on the lamp. She grins mischievously, and walks over to the lamp. She shoves it off the table causing it to break and make a super loud crashing sound on the floor.

“Huh?! What are you doing?!” Wooly gasps. “You’re going to scare the caterpillars!” Amanda panics and looks at her caterpillars. 

“Shh… shh… it’s okay little fellas you’re absolutely safe here.” Amanda says softly. Wooly rolls his eyes, then he glances at the screen. He seems surprised, then a little annoyed. 

“Oh… the episode has started already?” 

“Yeah Wooly.” Amanda scoffs. She looks at the screen again and does a double take. Her eyes widen and tears start to form “No… no way… it can’t be…” her voice cracks, “Ka-” 

“Don’t say my name! They’ll hear you!” Kate snaps. Amanda flinches a bit, Riley does too. It is very unlike Kate to speak in such a harsh tone. She seems… scared. 

“You’re alive…” Amanda cries, “I can’t believe you’re alive.” 

“Yeah Amanda… I’m alive…” Kate sighed, sounding completely exhausted. Amanda’s smile fades a bit. 

“Today we’re raising caterpillars into butterflies! These ones are called Monarchs!” Amanda beams, “Oh… but I guess you already know that huh? Heh heh.” She laughs nervously. 

“Say, why don’t you help us!” Wooly suggests.  

“Yeah! See…” Amanda pulls out a diagram, “Butterflies start out as eggs… then they become caterpillars… then they turn into a chrysalis and then into a butterfly!” 

“Ooh! Ooh! What do they turn into after that?” Wooly asks eagerly. Amanda gives him a weird look, as this is a very strange question. 

“They die, Wooly. You know that.” 

“O-Oh… that’s… really sad.” 

“Not really, that’s just the cycle of life isn’t it? Honestly I think they’re kind of lucky, they get to fly south for the winter. I bet they see all kinds of different places.” 

“Mmm… I don’t know… I feel like there could be dangers along the way. I mean, not every butterfly makes it right?” Wooly says. Amanda ignores him.

“We have to help these caterpillars grow into butterflies! Do you remember the cycle I showed you before?” She asks. “I'll start us off, the eggs have already hatched into caterpillars, so what comes next?” A voice prompt shows up on the screen. 

“Shoe.” Riley replied. Amanda giggles a little bit.

“What the?” Wooly mumbles looking completely confused. “That's not right.”

“Yeah I know Wooly.” Amanda grumbles. “Come on, try again.” the voice prompt appears again.

“Grasshopper.” Riley said with a mischievous grin. Amanda looks kind of mad now. 

“Come on, didn't you learn this in grade school?!” Amanda snaps.

“Maybe they failed grade school…” Wooly comments. Wow Wooly, rude. Kate paused the tape.

“Riley what are you doing?!” She hissed.

“Pissing them off on purpose.” Riley shrugged. 

“Why?!”

“Dunno, they reveal more information when you do that I guess.”

“Really…” Kate sounded intrigued. She walked over and unpaused the tv. 

“Alright.” Amanda takes a deep breath, “let's try this again. After the egg hatches into the caterpillar, what happens?” the voice prompt appears once more.

“Frog.” Kate answered. Riley started cracking up. Amanda's jaw drops. 

“Riley! You are SUCH a bad influence!” Wooly groans in frustration. Now everyone is staring at him with surprise. “Wh-whoa… what'd I do?”

“I've never heard Wooly… ever refer to a viewer by name before.” Kate mumbled, tapping her chin with interest. 

“Me neither.” Riley said.

“Wooly… you just called Riley by their name.” Amanda points out. He immediately covers his mouth, looking incredibly freaked out for some reason. “Frog… Grasshopper… SHOE what kind of answers even ARE those?!” Amanda shouts in annoyance, “The answer is-”

“Chrysalis!” Wooly shouts out suddenly. 

“That's right. Chrysalis.” Amanda says, unenthusiastically. The caterpillars crawl up and begin to weave their chrysalises. 

“Ha! Yessss!” Wooly appears quite proud of himself. Amanda rolls her eyes. 

“Alright and out form the chrysalis emerges a…” the voice prompt appears again. 

“Dragonfly!” Riley calls out. This time Amanda is not amused.

“Do you think this is funny?” Amanda says, her right eye twitching a bit. 

“You seemed to think it was before.” Wooly points out.

“It's not funny anymore! It hasn't been for a long time!” she shouts, stamping her foot. Red glitches cover the screen. “I'm so sick of all of this!”

“Amanda, don't say that!” Wooly says worriedly looking at the screen.

“DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!” Amanda screams in his face, Wooly puts his hands up defensively, “I hate this place! I hate you!” Wooly suddenly looks very hurt. The tape glitches red again. Amanda starts to morph into her demon form. Wooly backs away slowly. This time it feels a lot more eerie. Like Amanda is completely in control, she almost seems calm. Too calm. “What are you so afraid of, huh?!” She says calmly, almost too calmly.  

“I- um… I… I…Whoa!” Wooly trips onto his butt and freezes up. “I'm no-not afraid!” he says defensively, Amanda looms over him. “Yo-you don't know anything!” tears start welling up in his eyes. Amanda looks disappointed, she returns back to normal and turns back to the screen with a fake smile on her face. 

“When the caterpillar emerges from the chrysalis what does it become?” She asks with an eerie cheerfulness. The voice prompt appears once more. 

“Butterfly.” Kate said quickly. There is a long pause before Amanda says anything. She just stares at them for a long time with a creepy smile. 

“Amanda?” Wooly mumbles.

“That's right!” She beams, “A butterfly!” The tape glitches and they hear the brief sound of Amanda screaming but it's glitched out. She returns to a smiling state once again. Wooly looks seriously disturbed. 

“Amanda, are you feeling okay?”

“Never--- better Wooly, why?” Amanda smiles. Wooly looks unconvinced. The tape glitches again, Wooly looks startled.

“That's right!” Amanda beams, “A butterfly!” Just then, the butterflies all came out of their chrysalises. “Look! Our butterflies are all grown up now!” 

“Oooooh… they're so pretty.” Wooly grins, he leans on the couch's arm, watching them happily. Amanda sits on the floor and watches them as well.

“Now that they're all grown up, we get to do my favorite part!” Amanda says excitedly. 

“Hm? And what's that?” Wooly asks, also getting a little excited. Amanda picks up the habitat. The tape glitches and suddenly they are in the backyard. Now Wooly looks nervous. “So… what are we doing Amanda?” 

“Letting them go!” Amanda cheers. 

“What?! NO!!!” Wooly shouts, the tape glitches. He snatches the habitat from her and hugs it protectively. “These are our friends! We didn't even get to have them that long!” 

“But they deserve to be free!” Amanda argues. Wooly looks like he's about to argue back but then the tape glitches. He looks down at the habitat sadly. The sparkle in his eyes goes dim. 

“I… guess you're right…” he sighs, handing the habitat gently to Amanda, who looks at him with confusion and a bit of concern. Just then, the opossum shows up. 

“Oh um, hi there opossum!” Amanda says awkwardly. “Look at these butterflies we raised, pretty right?” The opossum runs up to her and starts trying to grab at the habitat. “Wha? No! You can't have this!” She snaps, pulling it away from him. He snatches it from her. 

“He's gonna hurt the butterflies! Do something!” Wooly shouts.

“What do we do?” Kate asked. Riley taps their finger on the VCR screen. The opossum clearly notices them, he stops for a moment, then glares at Riley directly in the eye and drops the habitat on the ground.

“No!” Amanda and Wooly shout. They wait a moment, the opossum does nothing.

“Wait… they look… fine…” Amanda says, sounding relieved. 

“Now we just need to carefully take them back inside where they’re safe…” Wooly whispers. The opossum glares at them and opens the door to the habitat. All the butterflies fly out of it.  

“No! No! NO! Come back!” Wooly cries out, trying to reach for them, but Amanda watches in awe.

“Isn't it beautiful?” Amanda smiles. 

“Beautiful?!” Wooly says angrily, “th-they’re gone! We lost them!”

“Wooly… they can’t stay with us forever…” Amanda says gently. Wooly looks at her sadly. 

“I know…” Wooly sighs sadly, flopping down onto the grass, “But I'm going to miss them.”

“Me too…”

“But you wanted to let them go!” 

“I wanted to set them free.” Amanda explains, “Look at them, they’re right where they belong. Aren’t you happy for them?” 

“They would've been safer with us…” Wooly grumbles. 

“But now they’re happy… now they’re free.” Amanda says longingly, “I wish I was a butterfly.” 

“Why’s that?” Wooly asks. 

“So I can fly far far away.” Amanda stretches her arms out, feeling the sunshine and the breeze. Her eyes seem to sparkle. She lays down in the grass and watches the butterflies fly around above her. 

“Butterflies don’t live that long, you know.” Wooly pouts. Amanda rolls her eyes. 

“Better a short and happy life than a long and miserable one.” She grumbles.

“You think so?”

“Yeah…” Amanda sighs, sounding a bit more at peace. Wooly stares at her for a bit, looking like he wants to say something. Then he looks away and stands up. 

“There are other kinds of butterflies right? Don't you have any books on them?” Wooly asks. 

“Mmm yeah I think so.” Amanda replies nonchalantly, without even glancing up at him. 

“Don't moths also come from caterpillars?”

“Sure they do… why?” Amanda answers, looking suspicious of Wooly. 

“Just curious… I kinda forgot… it's uh… been awhile…” Wooly laughs sadly. Amanda looks sad for a moment then shakes it off.

“AN-Y-WAY!” She shouts jumping up off the lawn, “That's how caterpillars become butterflies!” The credit music begins to play. “WAIT- WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT!!!!” Amanda calls out frantically. “Before you go I- I need to ask you something. K-" she freezes, remembering Kate's words from before. “Fr-friend…” she says awkwardly, “Are you bored of me?” The voice prompt appears. 

“NO!! NEVER!” Kate shouted. Amanda's eyes widen. 

“But… you left… and you started making other people watch the tapes for you… I mean don't get me wrong I like them both but… I missed you…” Amanda whimpers. “I missed talking to you… and I finally remembered who you were but you disappeared and I had so much I wanted to talk to you about…”  Amanda cries softly. The voice prompt hasn’t disappeared yet. 

“Well… we can talk now.” Kate says softly. 

“Okay… um… Di-did you get the cookies? Did you like them?” 

“Cookies? What cookies?” Kate asks Riley, sounding extremely confused.

“We… got you some cookies… and sent them to you.”

“Oh… I'm sorry I never got any cookies… but I wasn't home so I wouldn't know.” 

“I see…” Amanda says sadly. 

“Um… well it's good to see you're back and okay!” Wooly says nervously. Amanda looks surprised at this.

“You didn't like K- her…” Amanda points out. 

“Well unlike a certain someone I know I don't wish the people I don't like would DIE.”

“Well maybe you should, Wooly.” Amanda mumbles. “Maybe we should want them dead…” wait… she's not talking about us. Who is she referring to? Probably the people at Hameln, right? Riley theorised.

“Look if this is about Hameln I'm sure they had a good reason-”

“Good reason?! Are you out of your MIND?!” Amanda snaps. Wooly falls silent. “You don't really still believe that nonsense do you?!”

“I don't know…” Wooly pouts. Amanda shakes her head with an annoyed expression.

“I’m not completely sure what's going on but… don't be a stranger… okay Kate?” Amanda smiles sadly. The tape ended and fell out of the machine. Kate slowly begins to break down in tears. 

“I'm sorry Rebecca… I'm sorry… I can't save you… I know I can't save you…” Kate sobbed.

“What do you mean, save?” Riley questions.

“I mean… getting her out… bringing her back…” 

“I don't think we can do that… but… I think we can set her free… her and all the kids…” Riley explained. “I mean… she will never be able to return to how she was… but I think she would rather be free than trapped in these tapes like this…”

“I can't do it… I can't let her go… I promised Sam… I promised…” 

“Sam would want her to be at peace too…” Riley sighed.

“I know… I know…” 

“So will you help me? Can we stop Hameln? Together?”

“You don't know what you're up against!” Kate argued. 

“Maybe…” Riley mumbled, “But I want to try!” Just then there is a knock on the door.

“Kate… it's me.” an unfamiliar voice says. Kate immediately stands up and opens the door. 

“Wait here, I'll introduce you… in a bit. You can handle the puzzle till then right?” She asked. Riley looked behind them. A children's butterfly puzzle is now on the table. They looked back at Kate and nodded. Kate nodded back and left. Riley heard some muffled conversation on the other side of the door. They looked at the puzzle. The pieces are gone. They looked around the room and found a piece with butterfly eggs on it. They placed it into the puzzle. Maybe I need to rewatch the tape to solve this one. Riley thought.

“You did WHAT?! Have you LOST your MIND?!” Kate shouted. What's going on? They wondered. Well hopefully she'll fill me in later. They take the tape and put it back into the VCR. 

The episode begins with Amanda and Wooly sitting on the couch watching some caterpillars in a butterfly habitat. She notices us.

“Oh hi again! I'm Amanda!” She beams. She waits again for Wooly, who is still watching the caterpillars, kicking his feet in the air happily. “He's in his own little world, huh?” Amanda grumbles. She elbows him sharply in the arm. 

“Ow! What is it?!” Wooly snaps, sounding really annoyed then he notices us..”Oh… um… and I'm Wooly!”

“So she isn't here this time?” Amanda questions. The voice prompt appears.

“She's talking to someone outside.”

“Oh, probably our other friend!” Amanda smiles. “Today we're raising caterpillars!” 

“Say, why don’t you help us?” Wooly points out. Amanda pulls out the diagram, she looks at it for a bit with disinterest. “Amanda?” 

“You remember the life cycle right?” she asks. The voice prompt appears.

“Yeah.” Riley replied. 

“And you’re not going to mess with us again right?” 

“Maybe.” Riley shrugged. Amanda and Wooly look annoyed. “Okay fine, I won’t.” Gotta speedrun this anyway.

“I’ll start us off… the eggs have already turned into caterpillars, so what comes next?”

“Chrysalis.”

“Correct!” Amanda grins, snapping her fingers. The caterpillars crawl up and start to form their chrysalises. Riley paused the tape and looked around for the chrysalis piece. Once they found it, they put it in the puzzle. They turn back to the TV and find the chrysalises fully-formed much faster than before. They walked back to the TV and hit play. 

“Whoooaaa…” Wooly marvels.  

“When the caterpillar emerges from the chrysalis what does it become?” 

“Butterfly.” Riley answers. 

“That’s right! A butterfly!” she grins. Just then, the butterflies come out of their chrysalises. Riley paused the tape and looked for the butterfly puzzle piece and added it to the puzzle. When they returned to the tv the butterflies had already emerged. 

“Look! Our butterflies are all grown up now!” Amanda beams. Wooly looks around awkwardly, like he wants to say something. Amanda sits on the couch watching the butterflies happily. “You’re right Wooly, they are really pretty.” Wooly doesn’t come and watch them this time. He looks uncomfortable and unsure, like there’s something on his mind. “You’re not going to watch them?”

“WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!” Wooly shouts, then he panics a bit like he didn’t mean to say that.

“What are you talking about?” Amanda says, confused and kind of offended. 

“YOU! You were acting… strange earlier!” 

“Earlier? What do you mean earlier?” Amanda asks mockingly. Wooly scowls at her. 

“Nevermind.” he sighs, “it’s nothing.” Amanda shrugs. 

“Are you ready for my favorite part?” Amanda grins. 

“How did you do that?” 

“Do what?!” Amanda snaps. 

“La-last time they watched the tape! You turned into your demon form and nothing bad happened!” 

“Yeah so?” 

“What do you mean yeah, so?!” Wooly shouts. “No no… that’s not what I meant to ask atl all… ugh forget it!” 

“Really? Because it seems like you have something to say…”

“I uh… um… hmm….” Wooly thinks really hard for a couple seconds, “uuuuh ugh… no… I… mmm… You-” his voice gets really quiet… he sounds almost… small all of the sudden, “You don’t really hate me do you?” 

“What was that?” Amanda asks, looking confused. She didn’t hear him.

“Nothing. I forgot.” 

“Okay then… So can we let the butterflies go now?” “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.” he groans. The tape fast-forwards on its own and ends. That was weird. Riley thought. They turn around and the next tape is behind them.

Authors Note: Experimenting with some new fic stuff to make it feel more like the games! Also did a lot more research this time to keep everything in character. Obviously though, this is a direct continuation of the second game... and I don't know what will happen then. So some stuff is kind of just made up on the fly. I have no idea if Amanda is actually able to control her demon form or not, but I thought it was a cool idea so I tried it.

Constructive criticism is totally welcome btw, if I didn't say so before! I'm writing fics to improve my writing skills, so seriously, any feedback is welcome (as long as it's not like... straight up rude. If you say "this sucks" with no elaboration that's not constructive criticism).

[fallbhind]

oh boy sam how could u do this to me. no happy ending, your just oh so mean to me. i just fully woke up after shoving two hot chocolates in my system and some morning reading time, how could you hurt me so.

“‘i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner — i was afraid that you wouldn’t stick around. considering that..’ you paused. it developed into silence with tension that i could slice with a knife. ‘that..?’ i furrowed my eyebrows. ‘you can tell me anything — c’mon i wouldn’t leave you over something small y’know that rig —’ ‘i have morning sickness.. and i’m late on my period.’ ‘i think i’m pregnant, alec’” oh chawowwow bang what the freaky deaky, what an great way to start such an angsty dangsty fic. it’s just starting, felt it in my bones.

“it’s been five whole months. the news were shocking, that was for sure and i took a bit to grow used to that fact. especially since i had to come to terms that i was becoming a father. i didn’t necessairily have any experience, growing up in a laboratory could do that to someone. i mean, i was taught to be an X5, a soldier, a cold-blooded killer. i wasn’t dealt with the best cards since day one. and now i had to raise a child. the worst part was, i didn’t even know how. i never had a childhood, how should i give another tiny human one? one that’d have my genetics. the same genetics i was given from dear old manticore scientists.” alec being built as a cold blooded killer, my boy better suit up, my buddies gonna be a father, at least he knows that he gots to raise baby darcy. he’s got so much doubt in himself about being a father, he’ll be the best daddy out there, giving his kid a childhood.

“you didn’t even know i was a transgenic.” how could he keep such a big old secret from you.

“another one of them was hanging out with our friends. ‘we aren’t naming the baby darcy.” max butted in, shaking her head. “name him max.” she suggested, smirking and looked at you. “why should we name the baby max? are you the baby daddy?” i raised a brow as i asked the question. ‘no, but i’m gonna be his auntie and teach him all sorts of cool stuff.’ ‘cool stuff being.. riding a motorcycle and almost degloving your whole arm more than once.” i commented, a laugh escaping me. ‘we already have one badass we don’t need our little baby here to be another one who possibly gets killed in a motorcycle crash.’ you looked at me, then at max. ‘What makes you think it’ll be a boy?’ the questioned escaped your lips which made me focus on you for a moment, my eyes lingered over your visible bump and then your face.” darcy is a great name, but i defo leaned on max because she would teach darcy all the best motorcycle tricks, the special edition bag with the concussion on the side.

“i was a father. i had my own little mini me — mini us in my arms. her little wailing broke my heart until she calmed down in your arms — and then she was in my own. she was so petite and had the cutest eyes. they were filled with curiosity. i watched as she looked around, no clue in the world. it just made me want to break down into more tears. but i had to stay strong. for our baby. for you. and for our new little family.” oh how cute—i’m so happy, this is happy fiction(convincing myself everything is good, this is a happy fic)

“and i worry that i’ll be a bad influence on my little princess. make her keep others at arm length. because i want her to be like you. i want her to be independent and isn’t afraid to get what she wants. but what if i’ll be in the way of that —? and that causes her to hate me because she grew up to be just like me. a cold hearted soldier. what if she had enhanced abilities like him? and she would be an outcast all her life.” freak u sammy. the wording was literally was so perfect., ,,, BUT HOW COULD U CALL BABY DARCY AN OUTCAST. i’d love her to the best of my ability. 🤺🤺🤺 throw hands with anyone who decides to be an ass.

“she couldn’t cry because she’s been at it for more than an hour, and her little tear — engine ran out.” awh my poor baby’s tear engine ran out, my oh my give the child attention alec.

“i rocked her as gentle as i possibly could back and forth, my eyes focused on her. ‘oh my angel,’ i started, being careful to do it quiet enough so you wouldn’t stir awake. ‘come back — to me.’ ‘and i will love you.’ ‘'til eternity.’” gosh he’s atotalsweetatothepeaawithbabydarcy

“with time, i just felt like an awful father. especially now that you were out and about more often and i was basically a stay—at—home dad and i had a tear-soaked shirt from our baby in my arms.” he feels like a terrible father, though all babies cry a lot. oh and being a stay at home dad is such a cuteies poostie thingy i’ve seen yet.

“i shut the eye she was grasping the eyelashes from and squinted with the other, scrunching my face together. “attacking and pulling at my innocent eyelashes, are we? that’s very un-lady like, angel.” i scolded lightly — trying to focus on walking and not dropping her or the bottle before settling on taking a seat.” oh don’t scold her those eyelashes aren’t so innocent (I’m mad he didn’t tell reader about being transgenic crazy soldier).

“‘dah’ darcy babbled once more, squeezing at my cheek. ‘yeah, exactly, dah.’ i nodded and softly pinched her cheek between my index and thumb. ‘three months old and she’s babbling and cooing like crazy.’ you mentioned, my eyes flew to yours. ‘just like you.” i teased, laughing. ‘not true!’ you gasped. ‘in fact, very untrue!’” that made me laugh, actually. it did.

“darcy was five months old now. i was working my ass off to keep her sheltered and safe. i had a whole list of things i had to be very careful with before handling her. she was so miniscule and helpless, relying on both of us to take care of her. hence why i wanted to keep her as satisfied as possible — well.. as satisfied as you can keep a baby.. which isn’t as easy as other people might make it seem. although, today, i had a bottle of milk. so i was going in to feed her some more. and as i tried to put the bottle in her mouth, she looked confused before she started flinging her arms around and spat it out, her eyes filling with tears.” what did u do sam… what did u do sam I am with ur green eggs and ham???

““Dada..” She so desperately wanted my attention. She softened her expression into just a pout. “Dada!” She repeated, pointing at the sink. “Aba.” Back to her little babbles. She then formed her fingers into a C shape to make it seem like she was holding a cup to then signal that she wanted a glass of water.” understand the whirlwind i’m going through, she finally said dada and she’s drinking water not formula of shadooks i’m gonna bawl my little freaky to the deaky eyes put.

“Her hand was still so tiny in comparison to mine. But enough to be able to hold it in my own. And then I slowly moved to the sink in the kitchen in the same speed as DARCY moved, to not overwhelm her.” remember, deep breaths. deep breaths it’s not real you can’t actually have a child yet (immence baby fever)

“Careful, angel. Don’t fall!” I yelled, intensely watching her as she began to run around as fast as she could. I lifted my eyes off her for a moment and glanced at you. “I never expected to have a little family with you.. this soon. And.. see DARCY so happy with the.. pulse, trashy town and all.” I finally admit to you, watching as you glared at me. “Me either.” “She reminds me of you.” I mentioned, my emerald green eyes focused on yours. “And she reminds me of you, too.” i’m actually so happy she started running. she’s so gonna be flash 2.0

“I couldn’t say that one single word. It was too much. Saying that one word made it official. Too official. I just can’t — right? I should be protecting her. Not whatever i’m doing. I can’t. I should be fighting for her. No child should hear the word ‘Goodbye’. I am the worst father in the world. A disgrace. I got a gift, a blessing. My DARCY. And i’d be throwing it in the trash. They told me they‘re going to get her and. The ink was blotchy from there forward, making the words unreadable. Fingertips went beneath the next page, a moment of hesitation. You turned the page.” fuck if I’ve ever not punched air i’m punching it super hard rn. i need happy endings (pushing a psychotic break to bring me in a State Of Zen.

“SHES gone. I failed her.” who tf is cutting onions stwap it. it’s nwat funny. freak j sam making em go through this shit. freak u freaku

“The journal ended there. Confusion and fear filled you reading those pages. Why did he keep track of her since birth? Was Alec insane? Did he do something to DARCY? Those questions lingered in your head far longer than anticipated. You knew your little girl had been gone for a month or so. But Alec seemed too busy at the Crash, drowning himself in alcohol. Even though he never got drunk. You didn’t know why. It was fucking strange. You spent hours looking for her. And then you stumbled upon a box. Hidden in the ceiling in a little box in the corner. And you found thirteen journals. Each year — except seven had two journals he could write all 365 days in. But he highlighted some. Were those his favorites? Did he lose his shit and imagine someone came after your daughter when in reality, he was the danger all this time? You shook your head. You shouldn’t try to get conspiracy theorist on a guy who spent day and night showering her with love. He must’ve had a logical explanation. Right?” yeah he never got drunk ‘til his child disappeared tf. crying because i’m going through it rn and finishing this up is just a fucking roller coaset cos he didn’t write all three sixty five hundred days a year cos darcy baby is(not was cos i’m in denial) so important. he definitely lost his shit for not getting his shit together for nit writing all year long. i want alec w severe arthritis in both wrists.

“I didn’t fucking do anything to her! Why are you accusing me of such utter bullshit!?” Alec shouted, he was fuming. “I loved her to fucking pieces! That was the only wrong I did. I made those journals to read back incase I forgot anything!? Is that such a fucking crime?!” You stared at him. “Your last entry?” “If you wanna kep on with your conspiracy theories, what’s the fucking point?!” WHIPLASH. GET’ER GIRL !!!!! grchie chow, grrr chie chie. make him stop w “kep”ing those conspiracies

““I assumed you’d say that. Well, X5-494. You give me the child with legal rules or we will kill your family.” Alec stared at her in disbelief. “You wouldn’t kill a pregnant person —” She laughed, “Oh, no, I wouldn’t. They would, though.” She gestured to the men behind her. “The offer I give you is better than what others wanted. You see.. you can keep the child until the age of seven. After the seventh birthday, my men will get the child. And if you are lucky enough and the child is human.. you’ll get them back. However, if not, we’ll keep them.”” wtf i’m in such an emothing whisplash this hurts what the seven whiplashes???????

“He was on his knees, hallucinating his fucking daughter. He has lost it.” dw alec i’m currentlh loathing my fucking shit 2

“He paused. The thick maroon colored liquid was blending with the gray floor. He forgot how to breathe, his eyes welled up with tears. And then the guards brought him closer to the room. A bigger puddle of that thick, deep red colour. It was so vibrant — and it most likely came from his little girl. He had failed her. He was doomed to be a terrible father from the start.” i literally started balling. sam u need to do a part two &&. be like “SYCH BITCHES I GOT U” pretty please

In fucking concluded this shit is great but i balled the shit out of my eue balls.

Oh My Angel ? — alec mcdowell

— CONTAINS : girldad!alec | mom!reader | heavy angst | possibly implied child murder ( i do not condone murder nor is this fic in any way shape or form supporting it, it is fanfiction ) | grieving | description of blood | dont read the ending | afab!reader | i refer to reader as you

> PS. @a1ecmcdowell made me do it with her hey june fic ( which ghis fic is heavily ib by ). sorry in advance. + i didn’t proofread

— SUMMARY : an unexpected pregnancy falls onto you & alecs lap, causing you both to have a bumpy ride into parenthood due to the circumstances with The Pulse and your medical care — or well, lack there of. although, it doesn’t get any better when you two get to hold your baby.. it actually just gets worse — but you don’t know it.

THE BEGINNING

I hadn’t expected to find out through Logan, of all people, that somethings been going on with you. He told me, in an unexpected way.. which was whilst I paid him a quick visit, that you’ve been feeling quite unwell, you told him but not me, already strange enough.. And he went on, said that you’ve been having ups and downs regarding your physical health. And, as any normal person would do, I worried.

But, it didn’t take me long before I went to your workplace. Jam Pony — where I worked, aswell. Except it was my day off.

Considering Normal was so very fond of me that I could take any amount of time off without him batting an eye. Being the Golden Boy came with its perks and flaws. Today it was most definitely a perk considering I could just waltz in and ask for you.

“Oh, right over there.” directed me to you with a point of his finger.

I immediately made my way to you, putting one foot in front of the other until I reached you at your locker, shoving some random things in there. “Hey.” I greeted you, my green eyes probably proving to you that I had something on my mind. “Oh.” You didn’t seem quite pleased to see me. You looked surprised — given the fact that it was etched into your expression.

“Don’t look too happy to see me.” I replied, the tone in which I spoke in had an edge of concern to it.

“No — no, it’s not you. I just thought you had your day off.” A moment of silence was exchanged between the both of us. “I do.” I sighed, pressing my lips together. “You don’t look too hot.” I pointed out, with furrowed eyebrows. “I just caught a cold, is all.” You answered. “You sure that’s it? Logan seemed to have other concerns.” I finally remarked, a scoff escaping my lips.

“He told you?!” I heard the pissed off tone in your voice. “Just ‘cause he knew you wouldn’t tell me.” I raised an eyebrow, “Care to tell me what all that is about?”

“Look.. I was meaning to tell you but I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. I just.. well, I thought..” You paused. “Can we continue this conversation somewhere where Max, Cindy and Sketchy can’t hear us?” I pretended to think for a moment. “Maybe.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “You came here to talk to me and when I want too you tell me ‘maybe’ what is your logi —”

“Seems to me you still don’t know when i’m sarcastic, baby.” I stifled a laugh that threatend to escape my mouth. “Oh.. oh you annoying little —”

“I gotta stop you right there. You wanna go somewhere more private or do you wanna keep letting me provoking you?” And with that, you grabbed my forearm and dragged me into the backroom of Jam Pony. I waved to Max and Cindy on the way there. They — especially Max seemed uninterested which got a chuckle out of me.

And then the silence engulfed the both of us. “So..” I started, clearing my throat.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner — I was afraid that you wouldn’t stick around. Considering that..” You paused. It developed into silence with tension that I could slice with a knife. “That..?” I furrowed my eyebrows. “You can tell me anything — c’mon I wouldn’t leave you over something small y’know that rig —”

“I have morning sickness.. and i’m late on my period.”

“I think i’m pregnant, Alec”

BUMPY RIDE INTO PARENTHOOD

IT’S been five whole months. The news were shocking, that was for sure and I took a bit to grow used to that fact. Especially since I had to come to terms that I was becoming a father. I didn’t necessairily have any experience, growing up in a laboratory could do that to someone. I mean, I was taught to be an X5, a soldier, a cold-blooded killer. I wasn’t dealt with the best cards since day one.

And now I had to raise a child. The worst part was, I didn’t even know how. I never had a childhood, how should I give another tiny human one? One that’d have my genetics. The same genetics I was given from dear old Manticore scientists.

You didn’t even know I was a transgenic. I wasn’t sure if you’d still love me or want to keep the child after that ( though, you couldn’t exactly abort it if you didn’t, because medical care was impossible to get after The Pulse ).. Because everyone would react completely normal if they’d get told that ‘our baby could possibly have enhanced abilities because of me, sorry!’.

On the positive side, you began to grow a baby bump. You were glowing. And I honestly tried my best to make this ride as stress-free as possible for you.

With my worst attempts, obviously. To name a couple, I sang Oh My Angel to your growing stomach, a couple lyrics i’ve heard from that song back at Manticore. I would also give you massages and joke around with you randomly and not to mention, tease you so you’d be more focused on being annoyed than the unhinged cravings you so badly wanted to give into.

Another one of them was hanging out with our friends. “We aren’t naming the baby DARCY.” Max butted in, shaking her head. “Name him Max.” She suggested, smirking and looked at you. “Why should we name the baby Max? Are you the baby daddy?” I raised a brow as I asked the question. “No, but i’m gonna be his auntie and teach him all sorts of cool stuff.”

“Cool stuff being.. riding a motorcycle and almost degloving your whole arm more than once.” I commented, a laugh escaping me. “We already have one badass we don’t need our little baby here to be another one who possibly gets killed in a motorcycle crash.” You looked at me, then at Max. “What makes you think it’ll be a boy?” The questioned escaped your lips which made me focus on you for a moment, my eyes lingered over your visible bump and then your face.

“Just a feeling, a girls gotta do when a girls gotta do.” She responded, crossing her legs. “She bet on it with Cindy.” Logan corrected, furrowing his brows. “I gotta get my money.” Max added, confident.

The same day, just a little later when Max left with Logan, I was making some pasta you told me you started craving. I wasn’t a chef, God knows I haven’t touched a pan in the entirety of my time on earth. But considering I had enhanced intelligence and I was a transgenic, it shouldn’t be too hard.

“DARCY ain’t a bad name, is it?” I eventually prompted, stirring the pot of raw pasta, picking it up carefully and making sure I strained the water. “We’ll just have to wait and see.” You answered me pretty simply.

I turned my head over my shoulder, my eyes meeting yours as you sat neatly by the counter. I then placed the empty pot to the side. “Meaning?” I prompted, eyes concentrating on you. “Well, I mean if we hold the baby in our arms, we’ll figure it out.” I processed your words, rolling my shoulders in a shrug. “I suppose.” I then continued on with the pasta.

“How come you’re craving pasta today? I barely see you eating any.” I eventually questioned, currently mixing the pasta with the sauce. “The baby asks, the baby gets.” You stated. “Well, I suppose this’ll be practice for our pasta-loving baby in your stomache.” I noted, my voice playful transferring the pasta to a plate. “I guess so.”

“A plate of pasta for the lady and the little one.” I finally said, picking up a fork and sliding the plate of pasta in front of you on the counter. I observed you picking up the fork. “You seem to be doing a lot of work.. research, too.” You mentioned, which was true. I had been reading up on random parental guide books and asking women with babies at libraries for advice, as awkward as it is.

“I guess I just don’t want to fail our little DARCY.”

DAY 1 / 2556

NEWBORN ADDED TO THE FAMILY

TODAY, our little DARCY was born. I held her little tiny body covered in an equally sized blanket. As anyone can find out pretty easily, we found out our princess’ gender. A little baby girl. She was so little I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. It was the biggest moment of both your life and my own.

I was a father.

I had my own little mini me — mini us in my arms. Her little wailing broke my heart until she calmed down in your arms — and then she was in my own. She was so petite and had the cutest eyes. They were filled with curiosity. I watched as she looked around, no clue in the world. It just made me want to break down into more tears. But I had to stay strong. For our baby. For you.

And for our new little family.

I was afraid. That was something I had to admit. I was afraid — what if I couldn’t be a good father? What if she needed something and I couldn’t give it to her — and you were exhausted so I take care of her and then she starts wailing and screaming — so I stand there cradling her and rocking her back and forth to no avail?

What if she grew up like me?

Became someone like me, a little arrogant and cocky version of me. And no traces of you in her. Apart from physical appearances — because she had your hair color.

And I worry that i’ll be a bad influence on my little princess. Make her keep others at arm length. Because I want her to be like you. I want her to be independent and isn’t afraid to get what she wants. But what if i’ll be in the way of that —? And that causes her to hate me because she grew up to be just like me. A cold hearted soldier.

What if she had enhanced abilities like him? And she would be an outcast all her life.

But then I look down at her in my arms. Her little tear-filled eyes looking up at me. She couldn’t cry because she’s been at it for more than an hour, and her little tear — engine ran out. You’ve been knocked out for a bit. So I spent time with our little baby.

“Hi.” I whispered, feeling my posture soften with her little head tilt to get a better look at me. “Who am I? Who is this big giant holding you in his arms and saying hi to you, little one?” DARCY looked confused which got a chuckle out of me. I never thought I would feel comfortable having a daughter and slipping into the role of a dad especially with my environment when I grew up. But she made it all worth it. All the pain led me down the path to have her.

“C’mon, don’t look at me like that.” I held her close and made sure to support her head as I stepped to the crib in the room, my shoes clanking against the hospital ground. “You got a judgmental glare, little lady, you’re gonna get grounded a bunch when you’re older with that look.” I playfully scolded DARCY with an unintentional parentese I hadn’t noticed I added.

She reached up with her hand barely the size of my fingertip and wrap her miniature fingers around my fingertip.

I felt my heart clench with just how adorable she was being. “I’m sorry, your highness. You win with that cute little move. I surrender. No ones gonna ground you, angel.” and then her eyes fluttered shut. “But I suppose we gotta get you all ready for bed, dont we?”

I rocked her as gentle as I possibly could back and forth, my eyes focused on her.

“Oh my angel,” I started, being careful to do it quiet enough so you wouldn’t stir awake.

“Come back — to me.”

“And I will love you,”

“ 'til eternity.”

“Oh my angel.” I bent over the crib, as cautious as I could to not drop DARCY too fast and make sure to place her down carefully, making sure to remove the blanket she was tucked in to then place ontop of her, so she could still move around. I noticed her little onesie from the hospital. My gaze softened and I watched her chest rise and fall before a quiet voice dragged me out of thought.

“And you were worried that you wouldn’t be a good dad.” You pointed out, I rolled my eyes whilst I turned around to face you. “I don’t know what you’re on about.” I spoke softly and acted clueless.

“Oh, sure you don’t. You totally fell inlove with her the moment you held her.” You murmured. “Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” I rolled my eyes and approached the side of the hospital bed, leaning over and placing a kiss on your lips. “You just pushed out a whole human from your body.” I mumbled, concern evident in my voice.

“Oh? Is Mr. Cocky concerned about my well-being?” You acted surprised. “Shut up.” I groaned. “You’re so annoying.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Funny considering I used to say that about you.”

“Is it too late to say I hate you?” I grumbled, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Pretty sure it is, yeah.”

DAY 84 / 2556

FIRST SMILE

IT’S been three months since DARCY entered our life. You’ve been working at Jam Pony on and off just helping Normal get packages to deliver considering you just wanted a breather so I decided to take care of DARCY. She’s growing so fast, it’s absurd. I honestly can’t keep up with her.

There are moments where I freeze due to not knowing what I could do to stop her from screaming and crying. It wasn’t often, but it also wasn’t rare. And it made me feel useless.

Because nine times out of ten, whenever I gave her to you, she’d be able to calm down in an instant. It was clear, you were her mother. I wasn’t, and she was spending nine whole months in your womb. But I just wanted to able to care for her without needing you to stop whatever you were doing just to help me out.

With time, I just felt like an awful father. Especially now that you were out and about more often and I was basically a stay—at—home dad and I had a tear-soaked shirt from our baby in my arms.

Though, I feel like I finally did something right. Today she’s been quite observant. Eyes locked onto my face as her hand lifted and she grasped at the fat of my cheek. “Oh — oh, sure I guess.. that’s better than having you crying.” I head to the couch with her bottle in my hand, shaking the baby bottle so the formula can mix well together. With me walking forward, placing one foot in front of the other and having the wooden floorboards creak or groan here and there, with her in my arms, she started to grab at my eyelashes.

I shut the eye she was grasping the eyelashes from and squinted with the other, scrunching my face together. “Attacking and pulling at my innocent eyelashes, are we? That’s very un-lady like, angel.” I scolded lightly — trying to focus on walking and not dropping her or the bottle before settling on taking a seat.

I sat on a beanbag in her nursery and slowly tried to pull her away from my face. I then leaned back on the back — rest part of the sofa and placed her little formula bottle on a nearby table.

My emerald green eyes focused on her. Now I had both arms supporting her tiny chest. She was wearing a soft red onesie with little yellow seed patterns around, like a little strawberry. I lifted her up and down. “Oh.. oh! And she’s taking off!” I gasped and had a very bad attempt at a sound effect of what was supposed to be a rocket taking off as I raised her up, her feet not touching my chest. “She’s up in the sky! And.. whoosh!” I turned her left and right.

“Now she’s coming back down..” I slowly settled her so her weight was supported by my hands and her feet on my chest, before I brought her face to mine. “And she’s getting kisses from her daddy.” I let my lips connect with the soft skin of her cheek, her forehead, head and basically everywhere on her face. “Gotcha!” I said, enthusiastically.

I pulled back DARCY a little to get a good look at her face and then I saw the corners of her tiny mouth curled up into a tiny smile as she swung her hands around from joy.

Her first ever smile. She was precious.

She babbled and giggled, her hands coming up to rest on my face. My emerald green eyes focusing on her emerald green eyes. She looked just like you smiling. She had everything in common with you, physically, apart from the eyes.

“Oh my god, that’s a little smile, isn’t it?” I felt my heart melt at the sight.

“And Mr. Cocky is no longer cocky but a big ol’ softie. Do I call you Mr. Softie now?” I heard you tease as my eyes shot toward you. “Oh — hey, you’re home. Also.. no idea what you’re talking about. Anywho.. well, I thought you had to work the night shift..”

“Normal freaked out when Max threatened to punch him, especially since he supposedly had a date and told us we got to go home earlier.” You explained, putting your things down. “How’s our little girl doing?” You asked whilst she pinched my cheeks and leaned forward, trying to mimic the way I gave her kisses earlier. “Happier than usual.” DARCY then babbled. “See, her highness agreed herself.”

“Dah” DARCY babbled once more, squeezing at my cheek. “Yeah, exactly, Dah.” I nodded and softly pinched her cheek between my index and thumb. “Three months old and she’s babbling and cooing like crazy.” You mentioned, my eyes flew to yours. “Just like you.” I teased, laughing.

“Not true!” You gasped. “In fact, very untrue!”

DAY 152 / 2556

DADDYS WORST NIGHTMARE ; TEETHING

DARCY was five months old now. I was working my ass off to keep her sheltered and safe. I had a whole list of things I had to be very careful with before handling her. She was so miniscule and helpless, relying on both of us to take care of her. Hence why I wanted to keep her as satisfied as possible — well.. as satisfied as you can keep a baby.. which isn’t as easy as other people might make it seem.

Although, today, I had a bottle of milk. So I was going in to feed her some more. And as I tried to put the bottle in her mouth, she looked confused before she started flinging her arms around and spat it out, her eyes filling with tears.

“DARCY? Angel, are you not hungry?” I asked, concern evident in my face. I got up and put the bottle to the side, going to her and I wrapped my arms around her, taking her out of the high chair and cradled her, supporting her head and neck. “Oh, honey.” I frowned as she wailed in my arms, her eyes squeezed shut and mouth open as shouts and cries escaped her. And I reached to take her bib off.

I stood up from the chair and started rocking her, “Princess, what’s wrong?” I whispered, her little arms still flung around as she kept her ear-piercing cry going. “Shh, shh.” I tried to figure out what she could possibly need. She was definitely not hungry. “Are you sleepy? Do you need to burp?”

Safe to say, the rest of the day was me panicking and running around the house, trying to figure out what on Gods green earth she could possibly need. Her cries didn’t stop, at all. Which just made me feel so helpless. My little princess just cried in my arms and I didn’t know how to stop it. God, what type of a father was I? Letting my baby girl cry on for hours.

And then I realized when I was exhausted and holding her in my arms in her little nursery, that teething could be it. I pressed my lips together and before I do something I researched about — because yes, I care enough to do research.. I washed my hands thoroughly, and made my way back to her nursery.

I bent over her crib and gently picked her up once again, she was still sobbing and clung to me. She was relying on me, so I had to do something about it. I sat on a chair, settled on it before making sure she was settled and comfortable on my lap.

Then I put my thumb in her mouth to gently rub her gums. They seemed swollen and that just made my heart ache. DARCY seemed to calm down just a little after I kept up the massaging for a little longer. It seemed to ease my worries, too because I finally felt like I could help her. Be her protecter like I had intended to be. Be there for her unlike me — who had nobody to turn too.

I watched as she opened up her teary green eyes and focused them on me. She seemed curious and still a little in pain, but she just looked at me with her little green orbs.

With a tilt of her head, I relaxed in the chair after what felt like ages. I was exhausted, that was for damn sure. I ran left and right and tried to figure out why she was screaming her tiny little lungs out just for it to be due to teething.

But it was worth it seeing her calm down because I helped her.

DAY 365 / 2556

FIRST WORDS AS A TODDLER

SHE was so little just yesterday — I could’ve sworn she was as big as my bicep just a couple days ago. She used to be a little baby crying over everything with those big tear-filled emerald green eyes. Always spitting out the food I tried to feed her. Refusing to cooperate whenever I tried to change her diapers or even confusing me when she cried for no absolute reason.. And now it was her first ever birthday. She was already moving her mouth as if she were about to speak.

I probably would’ve broken down into tears had I not wanted her to look up to me and wanted to think her daddy was brave. Even if she’d forget everything sooner or later.

Little DARCY already a toddler, running around and picking up random objects. Running back to me because she found something and then shows me how to use it ( visually, we aren’t exactly at the point of verbal yet, she’s still too young for that ). Then she’ll give it to me and wait for me to redo every step she did and then wait for her approval, meaning if I had to do it over again or if she was pleased and let me off the hook.

She was precious. Her little emerald green eyes looked like one of a does. They were so big and innocent. Especially with the fact that she was just barely reached a little more than my knees. She had your face — and hair color.. her skin was a mix of both yours and mine.

Today, she seemed impatient, tugging on the fabric of my pants. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she had the cutest expression — where she tried so hard to look mad but ended up looking just so sweet. Her lips pressed together into a pout and her head tilted up to look at my face. “Mah..” She babbled, and I didn’t think much of it before she whined. “Dada!” And that made me pause.

“Dada..” She so desperately wanted my attention. She softened her expression into just a pout. “Dada!” She repeated, pointing at the sink. “Aba.” Back to her little babbles. She then formed her fingers into a C shape to make it seem like she was holding a cup to then signal that she wanted a glass of water.

I was able to compose myself enough to get what she wanted so she didn’t think I was neglecting her. But she said her first word. “Water?” She nodded and I crouched down just a little to grasp at her little hand. Then I felt her tiny hand in mine.

Her hand was still so tiny in comparison to mine. But enough to be able to hold it in my own. And then I slowly moved to the sink in the kitchen in the same speed as DARCY moved, to not overwhelm her. “C’mon, up goes the elevator.” I told her, crouching down fully and stretching my arms out as she let go of my hand to jump into my arms. Her tiny arms barely wrapping around my neck.

And then I wrapped my arm around her, supporting her body as I slowly rose to my feet, she gasped and giggled as I felt her wiggle her legs once they were off the ground.

I reached up and opened a cupboard, grasping for a cup and turning the tap on. “Cold?” She looked at me confused. “Coo — ld?” I said once again, but slowly speaking out every word before she hesitantly nodded. “Whatever you want, princess.” The water hitting the bottom of the sink repeatedly echoed in the silent room.

I reached forward with the cup and filled it with water. “Who am I?” She let one arm go to close and open her hand repeatedly, mimicing a ‘gimme, gimme’ motion.

“Dadaaa!” She huffed, very obviously annoyed with the angry expression. Which reminded him of you. “You two could be the same person.” He grumbled under his breath. “I am dada, yes, good job, angel.” I snickered and brought the cup to her lips. “Drink up.” I watched as her free hand grasped the cup that was bigger than her hand and try to hold it alongside my own hand. “Good girl.” I said, removing the cup from her mouth.

“Drank all of it so quick. You were really thirsty.” I commented, heading to a towel with her in my arm and wiping her mouth with it, all so carefully.

I then tried to place her back on the ground but she refused. “Bah.” She shook her head and I brought her back up into my arms, adjusting my hold on her. “But you’re a big girl, you can walk, princess.” She looked insulted, clearly. And then I laughed, which caused her to break her little act and cause a giggle to escape her lips.

She doesn’t even know the lengths i’d go to be able to keep that smile on her face.

DAY 730 / 2556

UNUSUAL BEHAVIOUR

SHE looked at me with her arms crossed over her chest. “No!” the word that she’s learnt from no other than you. You were being sassy to me and DARCY overheard, which then made her believe that she could be just like you even more and decide to go against my every word. Today being no different. She was throwing yet another tantrum. “You have to sleep, princess.” I was crouching and cupping her face.

“I not sleepy.” She pouted with furrowed eyebrows. “What if we snuggle, hm?” I suggested, raising an eyebrow. She seemed to think about it. “I can join.” You butted in, crouching beside me. “Whad’ya say, little miss?” I questioned, a grin on my face. “But.. blankie evil!”

We both exchanged a look between eachother. “Blankie evil? How? Tell us, we’ll protect you.” I said, slowly ripping my gaze off you and onto the tiny two-year old rascal.

“Blankie trapped me!” She whined. Which elicited an over-exaggerated gasp from me. “No! Really?” You added, jaw dropped. She nodded her head up and down in a quick motion. “Do you have a boo—boo?” I asked, my voice in a low whisper. “Boo—boo?” You bit back a laugh as you looked at me. “Shut up.” I said through gritted teeth.

“No..” DARCY answered my question pretty much quickly after. “And we’ll both be there for you and save you if blankie tried to trap you.” I told her, pressing a light kiss on the top of her head. Her eyes darted between both you and me. Her eyes brighter than ever. “Promise?”

I blinked, “I promise, princess.” I looked over to you. “I promise, too.”

I wasn’t expecting parenting to be easier than what I imagined it to be ( obviously, considering I was the one who thought that ). But in all honesty, I thought raising DARCY would be catastrophic. Explosions and world war breaks out. But I seemed to be doing well — so far. At least I hoped so. She seemed at ease around me. Or maybe that was because of you.

Because you’ve been doing a great job, honestly. It was shocking how well you kept up mentally and were able to stay strong — especially given the fact that you didn’t exactly have DARCY with your own choice. You didn’t have a choice because abortions were hard to get your hands on now — a — days.

I couldn’t help but think. Of course, you tell me I was a good father. But I simply just dropped the asshole act around her. She seemed to have loads of your characteristics.. which I was glad about.

And then I got brought back to now. I was holding her hand alongside yours as I head up the stairs — yes, stairs. I know my apartment doesn’t have stairs within the apartment but.. well, I may or may not have stolen some cash from a rich dude and bought a better house for DARCY to be able to live in. But hey.. no judging — i want

only the best for my little girl.

I watched as she struggled on a couple stairs before bending over slightly and picking her up, holding her close to my chest with my arm supporting her weight. I did almost slip.. and fall, but you holding my hand managed to balance me. “I will not be thanking you.” I replied, in a way more sassy tone than I intended. “Oh, okay, I hope you know I hear all that sass.” I rolled my eyes and kept going up.

“Good for you.” I heard you let out a laugh. “Your cocky and arrogant behaviour used to make me so mad — now it’s just funny because you’re so gentle. Who knew being a girl dad could change a man this much?”

“Uppie!” DARCY randomly blurted out whilst clapping her hands together and her eyes flew between me and you. “Yes, baby, uppie.” You replied, your motherese slipping out. “Says the one who became so freakin’ cute after having a baby.” I pointed out, a stupid grin on my face. Then I felt DARCY shift around in my arms once we reached her room.

“Look, daddys got you, princess, blankie won’t hurt you.” I reassured her, rubbing her back with my free hand and urged you to follow us into the room.

She looked around the room frantically, as if her blanket would come out and attack her. But, I read up and already knew kids could have irrational fears at her age. Hence why patience was all she needed including a bit of safety so she knew that she had nothing to be afraid of. “Can you grab her stuffed animals?” I whispered to you, slightly rocking my body back and forth.

“Mhm.” I watched you go around her bed and bend over, picking up her rabbit stuffie and dinosaur stuffie. “Look who’ll be joining us!” DARCY gasped. “Mr. Din-din!” I slowly lowered her on the ground as she rushed over ro your side.

“Mr. Car-car!” I crossed my arms over my chest and laughed. She was so happy about them it was absolutely heart-warming. She then raised her arms up at you, opening and closing her hands. “Me want up!” She pouted before you picked her up and handed her the two stuffed animals. “You gotta sleep, honey.” We both said simultaneously. “Otay..” ( that’s literally how she pronounced it, don’t make fun of me )

DARCY then got brought to her bed, you placed her down ever so gently. She seemed freaked about the blanket but nonetheless, I settled on the bed beside her alongside you on the other side of her. “Snuggles!” She exclaimed, grinning. And then I wrapped an arm around her, meanwhile you threw her blanket over all of us, yes, including the stuffed animals.

“Daddy..” She whined, grasping at the white fabric of my tee. You turned behind you to turn on her night light and then I focused on her. “Yes, princess?”

“Song sing..” I paused, “You want the song?” She nodded eagerly in response. My eyes shot to yours and you shuffled around on the tiny bed to fit yourself onto the tight space and cuddle up to her other side.

“Anything you want, princess.”

DAY 1095 / 2556

NEW THINGS GOOD & BAD

DARCY was playing around, as usual. A three year old should start to get around more and do things. I read that in a book — yes, I read when I want too. I am a transgenic and intelligent.. doesn’t mean I knew how to raise children. So, I sat down and I read a book about how children act throughout the years. I wanted to be the best daddy for my princess — or prince if DARCY were a boy, of course.

Speaking of her, she took me out of my train of thoughts. “Daddy! Look, that.. that is one tree!” She shouted, pointing at it, she was extremely proud of herself as she ran around on the playground. I was sat on a picnic blanket next to you. “Good job, sweetheart.” You shouted and clapped, cheering her on.

“Careful, angel. Don’t fall!” I yelled, intensely watching her as she began to run around as fast as she could. I lifted my eyes off her for a moment and glanced at you. “I never expected to have a little family with you.. this soon. And.. see DARCY so happy with the.. pulse, trashy town and all.” I finally admit to you, watching as you glared at me. “Me either.”

“She reminds me of you.” I mentioned, my emerald green eyes focused on yours.

“And she reminds me of you, too.”

I leaned forward, cupping your face, connecting my lips with yours, feeling you kiss back.

A shriek made me jump back, eyes wide. “What? —” You looked surprised, too. And my eyes searched around the park. My eyes landed on DARCY laying on the concrete, holding her leg in pain. I immediately sprang toward her, hearing you close behind me. “Angel, angel! Baby, i’m here, i’m here.” I reassured her immediately whilst dropping down onto my knees.

“Are you okay?” You asked, holding the back of her head and helping her sit up slowly. She had tear—filled eyes. “It hurts.” She whined, shaking her hands around and wailing in pain.

“Angel..” My eyes inspected her head, trying to see if theres any injuries there. I didn’t catch any so I inspected her legs, and then I noticed her pants torn open at the knee, she scraped her knee on the concrete. I hissed at the blood that stained the dark fabric. “It’s okay, we’re here. Y’know what, scratch me.” She shook her head. “I dooon’t— wanna hurt you.” She dragged out a couple letters due to her crying.

“Can you bring the medkit?” I asked you, raising an eyebrow. “You brought a medkit? ” “Just incase something like this happened. It’s in my bag.” I pressed a kiss on your cheek before holding up DARCYs head.

“It’s okay, daddy’s here and i’ll make sure it’ll all go away.” I whispered, easing her fears as I picked her up gently and placed her on my lap.

I watched as her emerald green eyes followed you as you ran back. You crouched down, opening up the medkit and beginning to scramble for items. “Sterile wipes for the wound.” I said, eyes focusing on DARCY. “Antiseptic for around the room.”

You gathered everything, “How do you even know all this? I didn’t know you studied medicine —” “Not medicine, just got a lotta wounds to patch up.” It was a half—lie.

DARCY winced when you began the cleaning but I tilted her head up, pointing at a bird in the sky. “Look! That’s a birdd.” I added some more toning to the word bird, and she looked curious. “Can birds fly?” “Yes, angel.” “Can we?” “With a plane.” “What is.. a plane?” “A metal box that can bring us places in the sky.” “Can we go on one?” “Soon.” I laughed at her suddenly forgetting about her wound and jumping to ask questions almost immediately.

“Has daddy had ouchies before?”

“Mhm.”

“Are ouchies bad?”

“I think of ouchies like.. you went through an adventure, the scar of an ouchie reminds you of it. Ouchies can be good and bad.” I tried to make her look at the positive.

“So.. is my ouchie cool?”

“It’ll heal and be the coolest thing ever.” I paused, thinking what to say next. Before I parted my lips, sucking in a breath, “New things can be good and bad. It just matters how you handle it, angel.”

DARCY looked at me with big, curious eyes. “New things.. can.. can be gooood and bad.” She slowly repeated, making sure each word was the same way I pronounced it, tilting her head. “New things.. can be good and bad!” She repeated, this time much more confident with how she said it.

“Exactly.”

DAY 1461 / 2556

PUDDLES AND RAIN

DARCY was just growing up — way too fast. I mean, I could just.. remember her being tiny and — her tiny fingers barely overlapping when they curled around my finger. And now here she was, going backwards and telling me too — “Look! Daddy. I can walk!” I laughed, nodding. “Backwards.” I corrected, crossing my arms over my chest.

We were quite a bit away from home since I picked her up from Logans place — since both he and Max offered to babysit so me and you had time for ourselves. And, lucky for us, it started raining when I had no rain jacket with me and brought one for her just incase.

So now I was soaking wet and having to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid, like run onto the street and get hit by a car.

But the only stupid thing she was doing was genuinely just.. stupid toddler things. And I didn’t complain. That over — deadly stupid things. And she seemed to be having fun. Until — “Daddyy, can we dance?” I was baffled. “In the rain?” My voice was filled with surprise. “Pleasee.” Her tiny, high-pitched voice caused me to break.

“Fine.” And so I reluctantly agreed, reaching out and spinning her around in a puddle. As she stomped whilst dancing and proceeded to splash me with it. “Oh my god —” I bursted out laughing. “Oopsie..” She exclaimed, covering her mouth in surprise that she did that.

I rolled my eyes playfully.

“You’re such a little rascal.”

And she reminded me of you.

DAY 2191 / 2556

HEART OF GOLD

OUR little girl all grown up. Six years old was — an accomplishment. For me.. at least. Especially in this environment and.. the wages we had to live off of. You were still working at Jam Pony, full time whilst I went back to work on and off. Taking care of our girl was most important.

I always wondered how she grew up. Given the circumstances. I wondered if we — I fucked her up in some way.

Having a transgenic as your father could fuck you up in ways — you just wouldn’t notice. At least, until now, I found no trace of her being a transgenic-human mutant thing. Like me. Again, only thing we had in common, our eye colour nothing more, thankfully.

But God, she had a heart of gold. For example, we walked past a garden and she noticed an little boy upset. And she head toward her. “Hi!” She greeted, all cheerful and happy. That big grin displayed upon her lips. “Hi.”

“My name’s DARCY.” A moment of silence exchanged between them “Mine is.. Peter.” “Daddy told me being alone when sad isn’t always...what people want.” DARCY waited a moment before adding, “Do you.. want to be alone?” “No..” Peter replied. And with that, she stood there. And she began making conversation. She was smiling and giggling the whole time. Peter slowly joined along. Her laugh mingling with his in the air.

I was sure she made his day by being so warm and friendly.

Wonder how she got so wise.

DAY 2555 / 2556

GOODBYES

TODAY was the last day i’d see her.

Today was the last day i’d see her.

Today was the last day i’d see her.

Today was the last day i’d see her.

Today was the last day i’d see her.

I couldn’t say that one single word. It was too much. Saying that one word made it official. Too official. I just can’t — right? I should be protecting her. Not whatever i’m doing. I can’t. I should be fighting for her. No child should hear the word ‘Goodbye’. I am the worst father in the world. A disgrace. I got a gift, a blessing. My DARCY. And i’d be throwing it in the trash.

They told me they‘re going to get her and

The ink was blotchy from there forward, making the words unreadable. Fingertips went beneath the next page, a moment of hesitation. You turned the page.

DAY DAY 2556 / 2556

?

SHES gone. I failed her.

JOURNAL ENTRIES ; FINISHED

WHAT THE FUCK?

The journal ended there. Confusion and fear filled you reading those pages. Why did he keep track of her since birth? Was Alec insane? Did he do something to DARCY? Those questions lingered in your head far longer than anticipated. You knew your little girl had been gone for a month or so. But Alec seemed too busy at the Crash, drowning himself in alcohol.

Even though he never got drunk.

You didn’t know why. It was fucking strange. You spent hours looking for her. And then you stumbled upon a box. Hidden in the ceiling in a little box in the corner. And you found thirteen journals. Each year — except seven had two journals he could write all 365 days in. But he highlighted some.

Were those his favorites? Did he lose his shit and imagine someone came after your daughter when in reality, he was the danger all this time? You shook your head. You shouldn’t try to get conspiracy theorist on a guy who spent day and night showering her with love.

He must’ve had a logical explanation. Right?

Tears filled your eyes. You prayed you were wrong. That you didn’t stay with the man who ultimately turns your life upside down for some sick reason.

And for DARCYS sake.

“I didn’t fucking do anything to her! Why are you accusing me of such utter bullshit!?” Alec shouted, he was fuming. “I loved her to fucking pieces! That was the only wrong I did. I made those journals to read back incase I forgot anything!? Is that such a fucking crime?!”

You stared at him. “Your last entry?” “If you wanna kep on with your conspiracy theories, what’s the fucking point?!”

STRAIGHT TO THE POINT

Alec glared at the men beside Elizabeth Renfro. “As you may know.. manticore was.. well, burnt to the ground. And I.. well, I made another one just incase.. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She trailed off topic due to Alecs disgusted yet surprised stare. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Max told you that? Did she ever bother to check my pulse before leaving?” She questioned. Alec went silent. “As I was saying. You’ve got a pretty little partner. Young.. sweet, inlove with you.” Alec scoffed. “Get to the fucking point you old shit —” “They’re pregnant.” “Surprise..? I don’t know where the fuck this is going.” Alec rubbed his temple in frustration.

“We want the child.”

“Over my dead body.”

“I assumed you’d say that. Well, X5-494. You give me the child with legal rules or we will kill your family.” Alec stared at her in disbelief. “You wouldn’t kill a pregnant person —” She laughed, “Oh, no, I wouldn’t. They would, though.” She gestured to the men behind her. “The offer I give you is better than what others wanted. You see.. you can keep the child until the age of seven. After the seventh birthday, my men will get the child. And if you are lucky enough and the child is human.. you’ll get them back. However, if not, we’ll keep them.”

“Fuck you, you sick bitch.” He spat, utterly disgusted by her. “We’ll send you the contract soon.”

“Pleasure doing business with you.” She said with a smile.

MY BABY

Alec stopped pacing, now leaning over the kitchen counter with his hands on his face. “I am a fucking transgenic. A human-like scientist experiment designed to be a fucking soldier. I escaped but manticore seemed to fuck me in the ass.” Alec ran his hands through his hair. “They made a deal to get her at seven years old. If not, they would’ve killed you.” He explained, not really caring if you decided to believe him or not, anymore.

“You’re insane.” You told him, with a shaky voice. “Believe whatever the fuck you want.” Alec was staring at the counter. All he could think of was his baby.

You immediately scrambled to get out of there. You grabbed a few vital things you needed before making yoir way out. “You should’ve helped her, you monster.” Was all he heard from you before his ears echoed the front door slamming shut. Now he was alone with his thoughts. Fuck.

“Daddy?” DARCY called out, heading to the kitchen. Her beady emerald green eyes focusing on me. “I lost my bag at school toooday.” She explained. Alecs gaze softened when his eyes landed on her. He lowered himself onto his knees to be eye level with her. “That’s okay, angel, we can get you a new one.” He reassured, tears filling his eyes.

“Are you okay, daddy? Why are you crying?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed and eyes filled with concern when she should’ve been happy.

“I failed you.” He whispered, hands reaching out to her. “No you didn’t.” She shook her head and wrapped her tiny arms around him. “I love you, daddy.” And then the tears kept flowing. As he went to wrap his arms around her figure — she vanished. And everything seemed empty once again.

He was on his knees, hallucinating his fucking daughter. He has lost it.

OH , MY ANGEL

There was an empty promise I gave DARCY when she was still tiny. ‘I will always protect you.’ And it was outright nonsense. Because he knew from the start he had limited time with her. The journals were to honour her memory — incase..

But that wouldn’t happen. Because he was now going into the manticore building to see his little angel. Have her in his arms again. As long as they haven’t finished their testing — they allowed him to see her now. He wasn’t ready to see her. Seeing her trapped in the very place he was stuck in and so desperately wanted to get out of.

Max was waiting for him outside just incase. And he entered the freshly made Manticore building through the big.. doors.

Two soldiers guided him down the hall. He wasn’t sure what to feel when his eyes flew around the place. The place looked like a mental institution. White, glossy walls paired with gray, marble floor. His eyebrows furrowed in hesitation when a guard put a keycard into some sort-of machinery next to some metal doors.

Uncertainty filled him but he proceeded. Stepping forward. One foot in front of the other. Ever so carefully. His eyes darting around for any bad sign.

And he got what he was looking for.

His heart dropped. And his ears started having a high-pitched ring. The hallway that led to the room the guards brought him too —

Blood.

A path of blood. It was smeared from the room down the hall. It slowly started disappearing at one point.

He paused. The thick maroon colored liquid was blending with the gray floor. He forgot how to breathe, his eyes welled up with tears. And then the guards brought him closer to the room. A bigger puddle of that thick, deep red colour. It was so vibrant — and it most likely came from his little girl.

He had failed her.

He was doomed to be a terrible father from the start.

The song he sang to her seemed hypocritical now. Because it could be interpreted as him singing about her.

“This fire in my — heart,”

“consumes my — happiness.”

“Since we.. are apart,”

“I have nothing.. to hope for,”

“I have nothing.. to cling to.”

“Life for me — has no meaning darling,”

“if I have — to live — it without you.”

“Oh my angel,”

“come back — to me.”

“And I will.. love you,”

“ ‘til eternity”

“Oh my angel.”

[lookatthoseuselessgays]

A semi coherent rant abt Gojo’s outfits

You know how adult gojo, doesn’t wear casual things much? Like he’s always wearing the button down and slacks or the uniform? The time we’ve seen him in casual wear was when he was training with Megumi in that one scene, he’s still wearing jeans tho

that’s it. Even when Yuuji was living in his basement, we never see him out of the uniform. I know that I might be pushing it but it really seems intentional, we see him in his uniform for damn near all of his screen time pre-ch. 221, and my question was, Why?

My first though maybe it’s just him being dramatic, until I watched HI where he’s dressed casual all the time, he didn’t care then, when his ego was just as inflated as it is now!

so then I thought, huh, maybe I need to touch grass, (I do) but I chose not to, then it hit me. What happened between the uncaring outfits he’d put together pre-KFC breakup and his constantly put together self post-KFC breakup. He became alone (I’m sorry Shoko, you are a godsend and deserve better than this useless homosexual) and the saying became “I am the strongest,” not “we are the strongest.”

He needed to distance himself from people to complete all of the missions, to put a physical reminder in place that he is the strongest and that “when you die, you’ll be alone” yes that was a reminder to Megumi, but he has probably told himself this same thing over and over to himself after Geto defected.

clothes are a symbol of power and have been for the good part of all human civilization, now is no different. The fact he wears his uniform all the time is kind-of like a dog wearing a collar with the name and number of its owner on it. It’s dehumanizing. When he’s in formal wear, he looks like he’s part of high society, because he is. He wants to look above people, so he doesn’t get attached like he did with Geto.

does he regret the time he spent with Geto? Hell no! Does he feel guilt about all the innocent lives taken by Geto? Yes. Does he still love Geto as much as he loved him pre-HI? Hell yes, he just misses Geto to now.

in HI Gojo wears casual things all the time, the trunks in Okinawa and the white tee and sweats he definitely stole from Geto.

His uniform also matches with Geto, the difference is, he matches it with someone he believes to be his equal, his “one and only.” No he didn’t choose to wear the uniform itself, but he did choose to make him and Geto match. The fact both of them wear the uniforms shows the are both on the higher up’s leashes, something that Geto breaks away from by wearing the garb he does after he defects, while Gojo stays firmly planted because of the scene where Geto tells him not to kill the star religious group, he stays like a loyal dog, as Geto told him to do. He becomes the dog sitting by the fence, his leash still there but not tied, unmoving because he was told to stay. He does not run, he does not fight, he follows all the higher up’s orders, except the one to kill Geto. What shows that is in his uniform as an adult, he keeps the jacket the same from his youth, the one acknowledgement of the fact his collar says Geto’s name, not the higher up’s.

another thing abt the fact he almost is never casual post kfc is that he only wears casual clothing in front of Megumi, who is essentially his child. Not even in front of Yuji when he had the boy living in his house. Probably a sign of some trust issues that he has, or the fact he feels he needs to be detached from people, because he’s the strongest.

thank you for coming to my rant, please add things or correct me if I got something wrong! I love over analyzing the costuming choices in things I like, so expect that with the flow of utterly useless homosexuals 🤗

[sharksandsquirrelsandsnakes-ohmy]

Stiles is Supernatural Crack

10. Road Trips Are the Best When You Don’t Have to Drive

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

And, with an epilogue longer than the first three chapters combined(11.6k words), our story comes to a close. It's been a fun ride, y'all, but this is it.

Derek kept a hand on Stiles’ back as they walked out of the train depot. Stiles looked at the full moon and grabbed his head. It was like an echo chamber of howling wolves. They wanted out. They hurt. They wanted to go home.

“Derek, we need to go. Now,” Stiles huffed, gritting his teeth as he trudged to the jeep.

Derek opened the jeep door to help Stiles in, telling him “we will. Need to stop at the loft and tell the others. We can—”

“No. Now, Derek,” Stiles said seriously. He glared at Derek as if it was his fault. He was breathing heavily, trying to suppress the anger and fear and sadness of the wolves in his head. “We are leaving now. I’ll call Scott but we are going,” Stiles said, getting in the jeep. He left no room for argument, closing the door behind him.

Derek rolled his eyes, biting back a growl. Stiles wasn’t thinking. He wasn’t himself. Derek didn’t like it. It was all wrong.

He got in the jeep and looked at Stiles. What he saw in Stiles’ face… it was like he wasn’t there. It wasn't like when he was possessed by the Nogitsune, not like someone else controlling him. No, Stiles looked vacant, like no one was there, like he gotten so into his head that he couldn't get back out. They didn’t have time to wait around or to argue with the pack about going. Stiles was struggling for control. He was fighting for his own mind, his own body, and didn't seem to be winning.

Derek had to help him. If he wanted Stiles back, they had to find a way to give the magic back to the wolves it was stolen from. The only way he knew how to help do that was to drive. he could drive and make sure Stiles was physically well but the mental and magic was up to him.Derek would have taken it all for Stiles if he could but he couldn't.

He started the jeep, his grip tight on the wheel. Derek huffed, getting them on the road. “Where are we going?”

“Sacramento.”

Derek nodded and started for the highway. There weren't many others out at this time of night but Derek felt like they were in a room full of people and completely alone all at once, the scents of the wolves in Stiles' head surrounding them. Emotions rolled off Stiles like waves in a storm. It was terrifying, not knowing what was going to happen. Derek couldn't help glancing at Stiles as he drove.

Stiles sat, looking absently at his hands as they drove. Tears trailed down his face, slow, and silent. He could feel the wolves in his head crying for their other halves, for their families, for their homes… They were hurting. Being away from where they belonged hurt. Some told their stories, called out names, or begged for comfort. They were old and young and in between. The youngest was only ten, a child who had half of them taken away without warning.

Seeing the tears rolling down Stiles’ face, Derek wanted more than anything to reach out to him. To pull over and hold him until the tears stopped but knew it wouldn't be better until Stiles was alone in his own mind again so Derek drove and he kept driving. He drove because it was the only thing he could do. He was relieved when Stiles fell into an uneasy sleep.

The sun was breaking the horizon when Stiles sat up, breaking out of sleep like he rose from the dead. “There. That one,” Stiles said, pointing at an exit.

Derek followed the directions as Stiles gave them but it didn’t sound like him. His tone and cadence were strange. He sounded like a different person and smelled… off. He was a flood of excitement as they got closer. Derek felt uneasy, the smell of multiple people filled the jeep again.

Derek parked in a lot near a bundle of houses. It looked like a summer camp with people– werewolves– running around. When the jeep parked in their space, everything stopped.

Derek reached across the front seat, grabbing Stiles. He didn’t need Stiles jumping out and accidentally starting a war. The pack moved closer and a low growl resonated in Derek’s throat. He might be on their territory but they were too close to. Too close to Stiles.

“Stay in the jeep,” Derek told Stiles, unbuckling his seat belt. “I’ll tell you when to get out.”

“I know their Emissary and their Alpha. We’re on good terms,” Stiles said, watching Derek. “I can help. I’m–”

“You are not an Emissary, Stiles! You don’t know how this works. I do,” Derek said seriously, sounding more harsh than he meant to. He turned off the jeep and set the key in Stiles' lap.

Stiles crossed his arms and leaned back in the seat. He rolled his eyes and looked out at the pack. Something in Stiles’ eyes changed, longing filled his eyes as he looked at them– the feelings of a torn spirit. Stiles came back to himself and swallowed the lump in his throat. Sympathy washed over him as he started out the windshield.

Derek stepped into his view, towards the pack, and Stiles couldn’t think. Before he thought not to, Stiles got out of the jeep and rushed to Derek’s side. He got a glare from Derek as he walked toward him.

Derek huffed a sigh, turning to hold a hand up to stop Stiles. “Stay behind me,” he said, more worry and exhaustion than anger. “Listen this time.” He turned back to the pack and gave a respectful nod to the alpha. “I’m Derek Hale, a beta in the McCall pack of Beacon Hills. This is Stiles Stilinski, the future Emissary of the McCall pack.”

“I am Alpha Julia of the Rosewood Pack. This is my Emissary Saffi,” she motioned to the smiling young woman next to her, “and we know who Stiles is,” the tall woman said. She gave her full attention to Stiles and smiled. She knew his work and trusted many pack issues to his care. “What are you doing here, dear?”

Stiles smiled back at her, a feeling of safety that wasn’t his rise in him. “It’s about Casey and Willow,” Stiles said softly, knowing it was hard to talk about.

The alpha frowned, her nose scrunching at the familiar scent coming off of Stiles. “They are in no state to answer questions and we know nothing we haven’t told you.”

“I know,” Stiles nodded, licking his lips. “I think I can help them. Can you take me to them?”

Derek’s arm was once again blocking Stiles from the other werewolves. “Take us. I need to stay with Stiles, you understand that.”

The alpha looked at her second, a silent conversation playing out, before she nodded. “That is acceptable but I will have two of my own stay with you. You understand,” she said and Derek nodded.

Two betas lead Derek and Stiles to a small house. The first room they entered was filled with medical supplies. As they walked down a hall, they stopped outside a door. When it opened, two people sat inside, looking almost catatonic. Stiles flinched, feeling two of the lost spirits howling with joy.

Stiles walked into the room and kneeled in front of the first person. He knew her name instantly. “Hi Willow, I’m Stiles,” he whispered, looking the girl over. She was lost, unable to focus on anything. “I think I know how to help you. Can I hold your hand?”

Stiles looked back at the betas that had escorted them in and got a nod. He looked back at Willow and carefully took the woman's hand. He could see her ripped spirit, the jagged edges of where part of her had been ripped away. She was half a person. Stiles could feel the wolf trying to get to her. It was clawing at him, trying to get to her. It screamed and cried and howled, longing for its other half. Stiles closed his eyes pushing at the wolf’s spirit, trying to return it where it belonged.

It was like an explosion of energy when the two halves found each other. Stiles was knocked back on his ass. Before he even opened his eyes, Derek was by his side. He looked at Willow. She was crying in joy, one of the beta holding her in their arms.

“Are you okay,” Derek asked, helping Stiles up.

“I'm fine. Is she,” Stiles asked, watching her. “Is she okay?”

Stiles looked at Derek and knew. Derek would help him. He’d walk with Stiles to the ends of the Earth. The only question was if he wanted to or had to. Stiles looked at Derek, looked beyond what even an alpha could see. He looked at Derek's spirit and found it entwined with his own. He couldn’t see where his ended and Derek’s started.

Stiles pulled out of Derek’s hold and shook his head. For a split second, Stiles saw hurt in his eyes that quickly returned to the cold demeanor Derek kept. He glanced at Willow, telling Derek he still had work to do.

He wanted to stay close to Stiles. He wanted to be next to him, he needed to, but Stiles… He pulled away from Derek. He needed space. He wanted Derek to back off.

He watched Stiles, silently cursing the universe for picking mates. Derek didn’t want to have a mate. It was exposing in every way, being impossibly attached to another person. It didn't feel like their feelings didn’t matter, as if the choices had been made from them.

Stiles approached slowly, knowing that two scared and confused werewolves could destroy their only hope of salvation if spooked. Now he wished Derek was at his back. Stiles looked past the nervous betas and into Willow’s eyes. They didn’t look empty or lost any more. She looked back at Stiles with tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Can I see your hand,” Stiles asked gently, unsure what she’d be feeling.

Willow held her hand out to him and he took it in his. When he touched her hand, he lost his breath. He felt like he was watching a masterpiece form. Her spirit looked like a Kintsugi bowl, shattered to pieces and repaired with gold. The lines running through her torn spirit where she was putting herself back together. Even being newly returned, Stiles could see the girl was very strong, her spirit burned brighter and larger than any of the others.

Stiles let go of her hand with a smile. He could do this. He could help them. And if he could help them, he wouldn’t stop until he’d helped all of them.

Stiles moved to the other person, Casey. They were staring at the ceiling, no life to their eyes. He took their hand, focusing on the wolf spirit trying to rip its way out. This time he was ready. This time, the blast of magic didn’t knock him off his feet.

When Stiles looked up at Casey, it was beautiful. The same lines of repair ran through their spirit but another thing appeared too. Casey’s and Willow’s spirits were entangled like Stiles’ and Derek’s were. Stiles couldn’t stop smiling when the two felt each other’s presence. They were crying and holding each other. They whispered how they loved each other and never wanted to be apart again.

Stiles looked at them in awe. He wanted that. He glanced at Derek, seeing how tense and nervous he was. He looked back to how Casey's and Willow's spirits came together. Could he have that? Could he and Derek have really have that, too?

Stiles turned to look at Derek. He still had that same scowl set on his face but his eyes gave him away. Derek wanted that, too, just like Stiles. He wanted a love so strong it was an anchor in the real world. Even when they couldn’t keep going, they stayed together.

Stiles thought for a second he saw Derek’s spirit reaching for his even though he wasn’t touching him. He closed his eyes and felt the world tilt. It stopped, his body not hitting the floor like he thought. When he opened his eyes, he was looking right into Derek’s eyes. The world came into focus and he saw how tired and worried Derek truly looked. He held onto Stiles to keep him up right. He held Stiles close just to be sure he was safe.

A muttered conversation was had. At least, it sounded muttered. Stiles closed his eyes again. He was exhausted. His body felt like it weighed a ton. He was hungry too, but he needed sleep first. Stiles let himself give in, becoming dead weight in Derek’s arms.

He freaked out, lifting Stiles more so he wouldn’t fall. Derek leaned against the wall, carefully sitting down with Stiles held in his arms. He looked him over, seeing how pale and cold Stiles was. Derek whined deep in his throat, taking off his leather jacket to wrap around Stiles.

“Please,” Derek begged, “he gave all he had to help you. He needs sleep.”

One of the Betas shook their head. “That’s not for us to decide.”

“Then ask your alpha,” Derek growled, not happy with the silly pups they’d been left with.

One of the Betas left and Derek turned his attention back to Stiles. He pushed the hair off his forehead, trying to tell how badly Stiles had overdone it. He was still so cold. Derek’s eyes went wide, listening closely. He could have screamed in joy when he heard the steady beat of Stiles’ heart. He heaved a sigh, leaning his head on Stiles’ shoulder. Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles, holding him close to keep him warm.

Stiles woke up in a small bed. He was sweating from the warmth, the familiar weight of Derek’s wolf form pressed against his chest. He looked around, not recognizing where he was. He moved to rest a hand to Derek’s back, feeling safer knowing the wolf was nearby. Stiles blinked, looking at his arm in Derek’s leather jacket. He was wearing Derek’s jacket.

Derek seemed to feel Stiles wake up and looked up at him with sleepy eyes. Before Stiles could even ask, Derek growled softly at him. Stiles smiled, understanding what Derek was saying.

As soon as they were able to eat and get back on the road, Stiles made it their mission to help as many packs as fast as possible. Giving the power back was easy. It was draining and took a heavy toll on Stiles. He refused to stop until he was done.

Stiles charged his phone in the jeep as they drove to the next pack, cringing when it turned on. Derek glanced at him and Stiles held up the phone. “Scott. He called a few times.” By a few times he meant twelve. Derek nodded and Stiles groaned, calling Scott back.

As soon as he picked up, Scott yelled “where are you? Where’s Derek?”

Stiles cringed. “Hello, Scott. I’m doing great, really. Thanks for asking,” he said.

“Stiles,” Scott said frantically.

“We’re fine,” Stiles assured him, rubbing his face. “We left last night and I,” he sighed, “took Evander’s powers.”

“You did what,” Malia yelled, obviously having heard Stiles comment. “Do you want to go insane? You were already teetering on that line before!”

“Wait,” it was Kira’s voice this time, “does that make Stiles a Darach?”

“No! Not unless he did it for his own gain. He did it to someone,” Mason told her.

“Where are you now,” Scott asked Stiles.

“So, that’s the other half of it,” Stiles told Scott. “You know how werewolves had their powers stolen? Well, we’re returning them.”

Scott’s side of the line was full of loud arguing and overlapping yelling. Scott must have used the look because the pack quieted. “Where are you right now? I’m coming with you.”

Stiles hissed. “Oooh… I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

“Stiles!”

“I’ll text you updates,” Stiles said, talking over Scott. “Okay, I’m going to lose service so I’ll talk to you lat—” Stiles hung up in the middle of his sentence, earring a look of confused bewilderment from Derek. “What? He was never going to shut up!”

After they helped one pack, they’d get food or snacks for the road and move to the next pack unless Derek needed sleep. Stiles insisted on sleeping in the jeep while Derek drove to save time despite his protests. He only agreed to stop when he knew Derek was too tired to drive more.

They'd stop at a motel along the highway to rest. At first, Stiles tried to do more work on his phone while Derek rested but they quickly found that didn't work. Derek couldn't sleep if Stiles was up and pacing. He would make excuses about Stiles being loud or his phone being bright, anything to avoid the truth. When Stiles would finally agree to lay down, Derek would wander off to the bathroom and return in his wolf form. Stiles teased him about it the first few times, offering to make a pillow wall if that's what Derek really wanted. Derek would lie and tell him it was more comfortable like this. If Stiles knew it was a lie, he didn't push it. Even when Stiles laid in the bed with him, Derek found himself laying away until he knew Stiles had fallen asleep. He'd listen to Stiles' steady heart rate and his sleep mumbling. Eventually, the soft sound of Stiless peaceful sleep would lull Derek off himself.

Sometimes, Stiles would fine himself just looking at Derek as he drove. Stiles would watch how their spirits intertwinded and moved together. Sometimes they would end up stranded when the jeep broke down. Stiles made comments about how it was Derek’s fault because every time he got mad or they would argue, he’d push Roscoe too far. Two months later, they were ready to head to the last pack and Derek had basically rebuilt the Roscoe’s engine.

“Where’s the last pack,” Derek huffed. They had just gotten back into the jeep after changing clothes at a gas station.

“O-K,” Stiles said, looking at a map on his phone.

“That wasn’t something you can answer with an ‘okay’,” Derek grumbled.

“Not okay, OK as in Oklahoma,” Stiles told him.

Derek took a deep breath and glared at Stiles. “Sometimes I want to rip your throat out.”

“With your teeth,” Stiles mocked, knowing damned well he was safe. “I hope you feel like a dick when we get there,” he mumbled.

Derek rolled his eyes and started on the road. He listened carefully when Stiles turned to the GPS. Derek looked over, wanting to talk to Stiles, to find him retreating back in his mind to talk to the last of the wolf spirits. Derek sighed. This was going to be a long drive.

Derek saw Stiles’ face flick back to life as they crossed into New Mexico. He wanted to say something or crack a joke but that was more Stiles’ department, so he opted for silence.

Stiles looked out the window and then to Derek. “How long was I out,” he asked, not recognizing anything.

Derek hummed, “four hours, give or take.” He shrugged, glancing at Stiles. “Welcome to New Mexico.”

“Do you want to switch,” Stiles asked and Derek huffed a laugh.

He shook his head. “You are not driving when you can’t stay in the moment,” Derek said.

Stiles groaned but didn’t argue more. Actually, it was worse. Stiles started back up his never ending game of finding plates from all fifty states and rattling off fun facts about every state they see.

They were an hour away when Stiles' demeanor made the distinct change. He went from Stiles to a child’s excitement, then to an adult’s calm. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the former was the child Evander took the power from.

Stiles would return to control to at least answer a question. Derek had been very clear before with how uncomfortable he was asking the wolf spirits questions.

This pack would be the worst according to Stiles. It was a child and the alpha who had lost their powers. The pack that was left behind was a glorified orphanage. It was a place for children to go when their parents died and the pack couldn’t care for them.

Derek slowed, turning onto a long dirt driveway. The sides of the drive were fenced in, keeping the kids clear of the cars. As they drove it, they saw groups of kids running and playing outside. They were on the swings and playing tag. There were kids of all ages, some of the older ones stopped to watch them drive up.

Derek put the car in park and the front door opened. A nervous looking teen walked out with a crying baby on his hip. He walked to the gate as Derek and Stiles got out of the car.

“Who are you,” the teen asked, eyeing the two men.

This time, Derek deferred to Stiles, letting him take the lead. “This is Derek and I’m Stiles. We’re here to help your alpha,” Stiles told him. “She’s not well and neither is Andy, right?”

The teen’s apprehension was obvious. Stiles wanted to do something to gain his trust. It was like a flash of light when the small boy’s wolf spoke.

“They’re your family, your brother and mother…” Stiles mumbled. “Your name’s Garrett, right?”

The teen seemed to relax slightly but straighten up. He had been acting as Alpha. He knew he had to be the protector. “How do you know about that?”

“I helped Evander,” Stiles said and the teen froze. “I’ve been able to give all of the affected packs their powers back. I’m going to help yours, too.”

The teen, Garrett, looked behind himself and then opened the gate. “Okay,” he mumbled.

He led them into the house and took them up the stairs. He opened the door and let them in. “Momma doesn’t like when I let people in without permission. We do most of the dealing on the porch.”

“Derek,” Stiles whispered.

Derek knew what he was suggesting. He wanted Derek to go downstairs so it wouldn’t be as invasive on the pack missing their alpha. Derek shook his head, glancing at the lost alpha.

“I’ll be outside the door,” Derek relented, looking at Garrett and the baby. He didn’t like leaving Stiles with people they didn’t know but stepped out like he’d said.

Garrett shushed the baby, rocking to try to calm them. He looked frazzled, like he was on his last leg. “How are you going to help them,” he asked, letting the baby cry.

Stiles frowned, looking at the kid sympathetically but answered the question. “I’m an Emissary for a pack in northern California. It’s hard to explain but– in simplest form– the wolf half of them was taken and I can return it. That half of them have been using me to keep going. In a way, it’s like your mom and brother have been living in my head.”

“How?”

“It won’t look like much to you,” Stiles explained, sitting down next to the alpha. “I’ll take her hand like this,” he held her hand, “and then the magic moves from me to her. She’ll want you close when it happens.” Gerrett moved closer and Stiles turned to talk to her. “Hi Leanndra. I’m going to help you and your son. It’ll be better soon.”

Stiles closed his eyes, feeling the pull of the magic. He let it go, helping the two halves of the spirit return to each other. When he opened his eyes, he saw the woman light up in a beautiful pattern of gold and sky blue. Each spirit had their own color that fit them.

Leanndra came back with a huff. She opened her eyes and Stiles let go of her hand. Garrett attacked her, hugging his mom and crying. She seemed surprised for a moment but hugged her son back.

Stiles smiled at her and stood up. He looked around the room, seeing the little boy laying on the bed. He could see the care Garrett had taken to be sure they were okay. Stiles sat beside the child. His name was Andy.

“Hey buddy. I'm going to make it better, okay,” Stiles whispered, placing his hand on Andy’s arm. He looked at Leanndra and then at Andy.

He let go, pushing the magic into Andy. He watched as the two halves met, swirling around as they rejoined. He closed his eyes as the spirit burned brighter, forming the golden lines.

Andy slowly sat up and Stiles helped him up. “Your mom is right there,” he whispered, supporting the boy as he crawled closer to his mom at the end of the bed.

Leanndra scooped him up in her arms, holding the boys closer. She softly cooed at the still crying baby, his sobs turning to whimpers. She sighed, “oh Eli,” rubbing the side of the baby’s face.

Stiles looked at the door and then to the baby. “Do you want me to hold him,” he asked, keeping his distance.

Leandra and Andy both looked at Stiles. It was like they knew him. They did know him. They shared a head for the months it took to bring them back to their bodies. They knew him on an instinctual level, a way stronger than if they’d met in the traditional sense.

She looked at Stiles and then the baby. “Do you want to? He’s fussy. I can never get him completely settled,” Leanndra told him and Stiles nodded.

Garrett let Stiles take the baby. Stiles blinked hard, feeling magic pushing him to look at Eli’s spirit. It was a feeling he got anytime he touched someone now. Stiles held his breath, looking down at the small thing. He wasn’t used to babies but he knew the family would want to have their moment. Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat and sighed.

“Hi Eli,” he whispered, rocking him like Garrett had.

Eli went from hiccuped whines to silence as he looked up at Stiles. He hummed a small noise of confusion and reached up for Stiles’ face. He grabbed at his shirt and giggled.

Stiles smiled down at the baby. “You aren’t fussy,” he whispered to Eli as if he understood. Stiles smiled, blinking back the rising pull of exhaustion. He’d done this enough to know and fight the feeling. Stiles sighed heavily and Eli went quiet. He could feel his mind begging him to look at the baby’s spirit but he knew it would make his tired state worse. “Uh, can– can Derek come in? I need…”

Leanndra looked at Stiles, then the door, and back to Stiles. “Of course,” she said, looking at Stiles as he grew weaker.

Derek was in the room and at Stiles’ side before anyone could say more. He wrapped an arm around him, keeping him up right. “Do you need to sit or a snack? Are you cold,” he asked, his mind running through the list of things.

Stiles shook his head. “I’m okay,” he mumbled. “Just not a hundred percent…” and Stiles felt better with Derek close. It didn’t need to be said and it never had been, they just knew.

In all his worry about Stiles, Derek never noticed the silent baby in his arms. Eli was looking up at Derek with big green eyes. He reached up for Derek, grabbing at his shirt. When Derek looked down at him, Eli squealed happily, a smile on his face.

Derek seemed confused, looking between Eli and Stiles. “You can barely hold yourself up, why do you have a baby,” he asked. “Give him here. You need to sit.”

“Derek, I’m fine,” Stiles told him, rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to—” Stiles let himself slip into the comfort of his magic, looking at Derek’s spirit like he would in the jeep, and rapidly lost what little strength he had left.

Derek didn’t miss a beat, holding Eli to his chest with one arm and holding Stiles up right with the other. He slowly lowered them to the ground. “You’re an idiot,” He grumbled, holding Stiles to his side.

Stiles looked around them with wonder in his eyes.When he and Derek were close, their spirits’ became entangled in a mess of shades of red. It was impossible to tell where one ended and the other started. But now Eli was there. His Spirit burned a deep fiery orange-red. His spirit slotted right in with Derek’s and Stiles’ like he was meant to be there, wrapping around them and tying them together.

Stiles looked at Leanndra, Garrett, and Andy. their spirits were slotted together just the same. They all held onto each other, lines of gold running across them. They stayed together, moving as one. It was only changed as Leanndra moved to help Stiles. Even then, her spirit left a trail back to her family.

Derek let out an unintentional growl when Leanndra came too close to them. He glared at her, holding Stiles closer. She moved back. She didn’t challenge the disregard of her authority. They might be on her territory but Stiles was Derek’s mate. Leanndra knew they were mates, she felt it the entire time her wolf was stuck in Stiles’ head. She knew that strong protective instinct respected no authority. She saw the way Derek held Stiles when he was tired and overworked from the inside. Derek would protect Stiles no matter what.

“Can I help,” Leanndra asked, watching the way Derek held Eli as close as Stiles– like he was protecting his family. “Food? Water? Sleep?” She looked behind her at the boys. She wouldn’t have them back without Stiles’ help. That was why she needed to help.

Eli whimpered in Derek’s arm, the tense feelings hanging in the room upsetting the baby. Stiles closed his eyes and forced the magic back. He placed a hand on Eli’s back next to Derek’s. The movement pulled Derek’s attention to Stiles again. He pulled him closer, looking over him for any signs of distress.

“I’m fine,” Stiles told him, smiling at the tense expression covering his face. “Hey Sourwolf, stop making that face.”

“Stiles,” Derek huffed, dropping his head on Stiles’ shoulder. “I hate you.”

Stiles leaned against his head and laughed. “No you don’t.”

It was palpable when the room relaxed. It was like a breath of relief rolled through the room. Even Eli was quiet. Derek moved Eli so he could see both Derek and Stiles. He seemed to relax and Stiles chuckled. Derek looked down at the baby and smiled. He started to play with the baby, tickling him and making him giggle. When he grabbed Derek’s finger, the man melted and Stiles really understood what he’d seen.

"Eli has not stopped or slowed down since I met him,” Leanndra said, looking at the three with a smile. They fit. “I'm not sure he's ever been quiet."

Derek’s smile grew and he looked up at her "Sounds familiar,” he turned to Stiles, “doesn't it, Stiles?"

Leanndra perked up at the comment, looking between them. “Do you have kids?”

Stiles turned to look at her with wide eyes. “What? Oh, no! Definitely not,” he sputtered quickly.

“You just described Stiles to a T,” Derek explained.

Leanndra nodded and Garrett jumped in, seeing what his mother did. “Have you two thought about adopting,” Garrett asked genuinely.

Stiles chuckled, “no. We’re not even dating.”

Leanndra looked at Stiles with wide eyes. "Nonsense,” she declared. “You must have been together a long time. My wolf could feel it. Your bond is so strong." She shook her head, not really believing Stiles.

“We’ve known each other for years. Since I was a sophomore in high school,” Stiles said.

Derek looked at Stiles in surprise. “We met before that,” he said, looking almost hurt that Stiles didn’t remember.

Stiles shook his head. “When?”

Derek licked his lips. “After the fire,” he whispered.

Stiles looked at him and shook his head. “I don’t—”

“We can talk about it later,” Derek said quickly and Stiles watched the tough facade cover Derek’s face.

“Let us feed you before you leave. It’s the least we can do,” Garrett said, looking to his mother for approval.

Leanndra stood up and wrapped an arm around her son. “He’s right. Why don’t you sleep too? You must be tired.”

They took them up on the offer– or Stiles did since Derek wasn’t talking. Stiles ate like he hadn’t eaten in years. He was starving. Derek tried to give his food to Stiles too and got a death stare telling him to eat.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to sleep now,” Derek said at last, having only eaten half his plate.

Garrett took Derek to the room he’d set up for them. One bed, great. Derek laid down in the bed and tried to sleep.

Stiles sat at the table, watching the stairs that Derek had gone up. Was it really that important that he didn’t remember something that happened thirteen years ago? Thirteen years ago, Stiles’ mom was dying. She was delusional and thought Stiles was trying to kill her. Claudia’s disease was the only thing Stiles remembered from thirteen years ago– it was all he remembered until middle school and then he remembered his dad's drinking.

“He really loves you,” Leanndra whispered and Stiles huffed a laugh.

“He tolerates me,” Stiles muttered, picking at his food.

Leanndra frowned. “What makes you think that?”

Stiles looks at her and rolls his eyes. “You don’t know what I’ve done…” Memories of the past six years ran through his mind. Derek being framed for murder. The Nogitsune. Leaving Derek with the Darach. Kate attacking and kidnapping Derek multiple times. “I’ve been a shit friend, which makes me an even shittier partner. I don’t expect him to forgive me, let alone love me.”

“He did and he does,” Leanndra said softly.

Stiles chewed his lip and pushed his plate forward. “I think I’m going to head to bed too.”

Gerrett was coming back when Stiles was heading up so he took him to the room. Stiles waved goodnight to Eli and opened the door. Derek was lying on top of the blankets facing the wall. He sighed and walked over.

“Can we talk about it now,” Stiles asked, nervously looking at Derek. Stiles licked his lips and sighed. He’d start. “My mom was dying.” he shook his head. “I don’t remember much of anything other than that. The fire… it was right in the middle of all that. I just don’t…”

Stiles was fighting back tears when he felt the bed move. Stiles looked back and saw Derek looking at him. He sighed, laying down with Derek. He searched Derek’s face for any emotion to go off of.

“You hate me,” Stiles asked.

“No.”

“You should.”

“I can’t hate you, Stiles.”

“Will you tell me about it,” Stiles asked in a whisper.

“About what?”

“About the first time we met.”

Derek took a breath and licked his lips nervously. “After the fire, your dad brought me back to the station. They were waiting to figure out who I would go to while Laura was in the hospital. You were there, too.”

“Was I just too cute? Did I steal your heart,” Stiles teased.

“Stiles, you were eleven and I was fifteen.” Derek paused, pushing the hair off of Stiles’ forehead. “You were asleep on the couch when I first got there. Your dad let me sit in the dark office and he wrapped a blanket around me. He promised it would be okay and then he went to deal with other stuff.”

“What'd I say,” Stiles asked and Derek smirked.

“You were asleep.”

“Not for long, I bet,” Stiles wagered.

“Not for long,” Derek agreed. “You woke up and saw me sitting there. You called me weird for just sitting in the dark.”

“I didn't!”

“You did, “ Derek said seriously. “Then you asked if I wanted to color or read.”

“Whish one did you pick,” Stiles asked, having a pretty good guess.

“I let you pick. I actually wasn't much of a reader then,” Derek told him. “You gave me your copy of The Lightning Thief to read and you started drawing something in a notebook.”

“You read Percy Jackson?”

“Because of you,” Derek said with a nod. “It was the first series that I was really able to escape into.”

Stiles smiled, “So you love reading because—”

“Because of a nerdy little kid I met at the police station let me borrow his book.”

“I made you a nerd too,” Stiles told him. He took a hard breath and looked at Derek. “What do you want to do now?”

Derek thought about it. He looked at Stiles and a small smile pulled at his lips. “I want to rebuild Hale house. What do you want to do?”

Stiles bit his lip. “I need to learn to control my magic,” he said and Derek nodded. “I’m a danger to all of you and myself. I’ll tell Scott and… take off.” Derek scrunched his eyebrows at the statement. “I’ll travel to different packs and learn from the more experienced Emissaries.”

Derek hummed and thought. “We can do that.”

“What?”

“We can do that. We’ll take the same path we did getting here. We can stop and spend time with each of the packs on the way. You can learn from them that way.”

“What about Hale house,” Stiles asked. “You can’t not do what you want because of me…”

Derek sighed. “I’ll call the contractors and Peter or Malia or someone in the pack can handle the day to day. I’ll stay with you, making sure you don’t hit your head on a rock and die when you pass out.” Stiles chuckled and Derek smirked. “I know you. I can tell when you need to eat and when to check for when you over work yourself.”

“I could hurt you,” Stiles said, his smile falling.

“You haven’t and I don’t think you will,” Derek whispered.

Stiles nodded. “Okay. We’re going to travel together,” he smiled, leaning into Derek.

“What else is new,” Derek asked.

The next morning, Stiles found himself moving closer to the warm body behind him. He hummed, feeling Derek’s stubble rubbing against his head. The arm over his waist pulled him closer. They were slow to wake, finding warmth and comfort in each other. It was the sound of children that woke them at last. Stiles rolled over to hide against Derek.

“Stiles,” Derek grumbled, his voice gruff from sleep. “Stiles, we have to get up. We need to get on the road.”

Stiles huffed, slowly opening his eyes. He looked up at Derek quizzically.

“What,” Derek asked, not prepared for snarky comments so soon after waking up.

“This is the first time you didn’t go full wolf when you slept in a bed with me,” Stiles stated.

“What about when I had stitches?”

“So it's the first time you've done so without necessity,” Stiles corrected, “but it sounds nicer the first way.

He was right, though, and there would be many more nights after.

It took six months getting back to Beacon Hills. They stopped with each pack as Stiles learned from their Emissaries. At some point, they started dating but there really wasn’t a specific moment it happened. It was more of a gradual slide until they realized what they were doing.

Their trip back started with the pack of orphaned children. Derek found it hard to leave. They were all so sweet and small and lost. He felt just like them. He knew they couldn’t teach Stiles without an Emissary but Derek learned. He learned how good they both were with kids.

From the second pack, Stiles learned about herbs and animal communication.

It was a Native American pack that saw Stiles as one of them for returning the power that was taken from them. They stayed with them the longest as Stiles learned to identify plants and their uses.

Stiles and Derek were both in awe when they first arrived. The entire pack– bar a few young children– were able to fully shift into wolves. Their Emissary was able to easily understand the wolves and recognized every one thought. She told Stiles that each Emissary has a specific talent they excelled at and was amazed to see Stiles utilize many.

They spent many evenings laughing and talking as they ate. The pack would then go for a group run. They told Derek he could come with them when he felt comfortable. Derek stayed close to Stiles for the first few nights, joining the run when he knew Stiles was comfortable and safe.

When working one night Stiles' familiarity with the ability was brought up.

“You understand the wolves,” the pack Emissary asked him and Stiles smiled, laughing nervously.

“I can understand Sourwolf,” Stiles said with a shrug. “I don’t get your pack on the animal esp.” he laughed at his own joke.

The Emissary, Kateri laughed too but for other reasons. “That’s not the same,” she chuckled. “He’s your mate. That has its own thing going.”

“Oh shit,” Stiles said, laughing hysterically. “How does that work? Could you imagine,” Stiles huffed, his voice reaching Derek as he looked for him and drew him closer. Derek found himself relaxing at the sound of Stiles' voice. “Can you– can you imagine someone like me being with Derek,” Stiles asked as if it were hilarious. “Shit… Mates, soulmates. It’s magic and fun and stupid! What if you hate your mate?”

It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on Derek. Stiles’ thought it was stupid. Someone like Stiles with Derek? What did that mean? He made himself walk away. Derek had really thought they were on the same wavelength about being mates when they decided to do all of this but he must have been wrong. Stiles didn’t want to be with him. He needed to run.

“What! Do you hate your mate,” the Emissary asked, completely bewildered.

“No! No, of course not,” Stiles said quickly, his face turning bright red. He thought about Derek, how he'd been there for Stiles every step of the way as he'd learned about his magic and how he planned to be with him as he kept learning and, “I actually think I might be in love with him,” he admitted. It was the first time he'd admitted it to anyone including himself.

“Oh, Stiles,” Kateri cooed. “It can be very scary to know you were meant to be with someone. It can feel like everything is out of your control and you don't have a choice, but I can promise that you will see why you're meant to be together.” Her tone was gentle as she explained to him, like she was soothing a child after a nightmare. “I've been around this pack since I was very very little and I have yet to see a set of mates who shouldn't have been. You and Derek, you're good friends?”

“I think so,” Stiles said nervously, as if it could be a trick question.

“Then you have nothing to fear,” Kateri said, placing her hand to Stiles’. “If it's too much to think of him being your mate as a romantic connection, then you can take comfort in knowing that all of the people I knew who had mates were the best of friends with them. Take a breath dear. You're already there.”

The night before they left, a huge party was held. They danced and sang and ate and ran and laughed and talked. Derek watched Stiles dance. He watched clumsy, awkward Stiles dance with his new friends. Derek smiled. Seeing Stiles so happy, looking free and unburdened, was a welcomed change from when they'd left Beacon Hills.

Stiles saw Derek sitting off to the side. “Come on, Sourwolf. A little fun won't kill you,” he teased, waving Derek over.

Derek just shook his head, staying firmly in place. Or, he did until Stiles walked over and took his hand. Then, Derek was following like a puppy as Stiles pulled him up to dance.

From the second pack, Derek learned even though he didn’t like it otherwise, he loved dancing with Stiles.

From the third pack, Stiles learned about water magic.

It was a blended pack. Two alphas, a born wolf and a turned wolf, had fallen in love and settled their mixed pack by an ocean bluff. Their Emissary was a nervous man who found the crashing waves and sea breeze a form of comfort. He showed Stiles how to move water like an extension of his own body. He showed him how to find a relaxed center in a noisy environment and how to soothe the bubbling of the magic inside.

While Stiles learned, the pack hounded Derek to tell them about his relationship with Stiles. They wanted to know how they met and when and where. How did they figure out they were mates and what would they do now? The little kids would jump on Derek and sit in his lap. He had a constant following begging for details.

“When did you meet Emissary Stiles,” a little girl asked, her eyes, as blue as the ocean, looked up at Derek expectantly.

“Well… his friend got turned into a werewolf. I was trying to help his friend,” Derek told them, “but Stiles is really stubborn and thought he could halp better than me.”

“But Emissary Stiles isn’t a werewolf,” one of the little boys declared. “How would he know about us?”

“That’s what I thought. He knew nothing about it,” Derek said with a tone of mock exasperation.

“Oh please, Sourwolf,” Stiles scoffed, walking over to Derek and his herd of followers. Stiles picked up one of the small kids, sitting her on his lap. “See, Derek is forgetting that figuring things out and learning secrets are what I do best.” The kids ‘oh’d and ‘ah'd about Stiles' addition, turning the tides of the story in his favor.

Stiles would smile and laugh when he saw Derek surrounded. The kids would mob him too and Stiles took the pups into his arms without a second thought. He’d jump in and change the story to make himself the hero or to add a dramatic flair he claimed Derek lacked. They were never alone and Derek found that that idea was growing on him.

From the third pack, Derek learned he enjoyed the noise and togetherness of Stiles and kids.

From the forth pack, Stiles learned about electric magic.

The grandfatherly Emissary taught Stiles to harness the power of a storm. He taught him useful magic and a few tricks for entertainment. The pack was made up of a lot of other people, including a Kitsune. The Emissary and Kitsune taught Stiles control over wild magic. Lightning was difficult to work with because of the discipline it required.

Derek saw Stiles practicing and stopped to watch him. He was focusing on holding a ball of electricity in the air in front of himself. Derek closed his eyes, trying to feel what Stiles felt, smelling for any sign of distress but he was calm. His emotions were level. His magic hummed at a balanced, steady frequency. As Stiles learned to control the magic, it didn’t feel nearly as overwhelming.

The Kitsune walked up beside Derek as he watched Stiles. The Kitsune explained how impressed they were with Stiles. He learned quickly and– though often scattered– how focused he became when learning.

From the forth pack, Derek learned Stiles could always surprise him.

From the fifth pack, Stiles learned about intentional magic.

The fifth pack they visited was… odd. They weren't like Derek and Stiles were used to, at least. None of the werewolves seemed interested in learning about the visiting pair. They didn't seem all that interested in members of their own pack, really. The best way to explain it was that they seemed more like neighbors than packmates. Everyone had their own lives that didn't necessarily require the others.

The Emissary, Ameila, was excited to see Stiles, though. She pulled him into her workshop as soon as they set their bags down in the cabin that had been made for them. Derek was not a fan of her. The way she grabbed Stiles' arm and just started to pull him away didn't sit well with him. If nothing else, she was immature.

Of course, she did teach Stiles some really interesting spells of intention. Many of them, you could hardly tell she was doing a spell. Most of them were silent. You had to focus, setting what you wanted in your head and sending that intention to the object of your desire.

It took two days for Stiles to get a spoon to stir a cup of water from thoughts alone, even when he made the accompanying physical guestures. He could help but compare himself to Ameila, who could make things float off the shelf and into her hands without words or movement.

When working one night while maybe, possibly, drinking a bit too much, Stiles and Ameila started talking about the other abilities he had gained from his wealth of power.

“You can understand bend water like the fucking Avatar,” Ameila said in amazement, the alcohol making everything more exciting than normal. “And the wolves! You said you could understand them in their full shift?”

“Not really,” Stiles laughed, his face rosey from the alcohol. “I can understand Derek. I can't even understand the other werew— well, Malia's a werecoyote but she full shifts too and I can't understand her. When I was learning from Kateri, she blew my skill out of the water. I guess I can understand Der because he's my mate, though.”

Ameila gasped, “oh my god, I didn't know! Uhg, that explains so much. That must be so freaky! I mean, he's a wolf and your mates? Is it, like, so intense when he kisses you? I heard it's all different with your mate.”

“Oh shit,” Stiles said, laughing hysterically. “Could you imagine,” Stiles huffed, his voice reaching outside the workshop.

Derek heard Stiles, he had been looking for him and he walked closer, listening to the conversation even if he shouldn't have. The sound of Stiles' voice was relaxing for him, hearing his rambling was soothing and he had admittedly been a little worried about him.

“Can you– can you imagine someone like me being with Derek like that,” Stiles asked, trying to laugh even as he wished it were true. “Shit… Mates, soulmates. It’s magic and fun and stupid! What if you hate your mate?”

It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on Derek. Stiles’ thought it was stupid. Someone like Stiles with Derek? What did that mean? He made himself walk away. Derek had really thought they were on the same wavelength about being mates when they decided to do all of this but he must have been wrong. Stiles didn’t want to be with him. He needed to run.

“What! Do you hate your mate,” Amelia asked, completely bewildered in her drunken state.

Stiles giggled, looking up at the ceiling from his place on the floor. He shook his head, “no. No, I… I love him, actually. Not that he wants me, just the stupid mate magic or whatever…”

“Ooooohh,” she cooed, devolving into a laugh, “you love him.”

Stiles smiled up at the ceiling, knowing that at the end of the day Derek would be there when he went to bed and when he woke up. Hell, if he yelled, Derek would probably be there in seconds. “Ya,” he said wistfully, “I definitely love him…” Stiles sighed, finishing his drink. “That’s why I think he deserves better than me.”

Stiles heard Ameila tisk at him and she muttered in French. While Stiles was far from fluent, he was pretty sure she'd called him an idiot. “That man is so in love with you, it makes him look stupid! He’s ignored traditions so many times,” she said, shaking her head.

“That’s just Derek. He's not much for pleasantries,” Stiles laughed.

“No, it's about you,” she hummed. “I thought he might just be… himself—”

“Rude. You thought he was a rude asshat who didn't care about making a good impression,” Stiles said and sat up. Ameila hummed, considering the words. “you can say it. I thought he was when I saw him. I also thought he was a psychopathic murder.” Stiles looked at his empty bottle and leaned over to throw it away. “turns out that was his uncle.”

“Sorry,” Ameila said, pushing for details without saying so.

“Long story,” Stiles huffed, not adding more. “Point is, he doesn't exactly make a good first impression.”

Ameila sat back in her chair, trying to get past the crazy not-story with the alcohol clouding her brain. “I— No… He followed every convention, every tedious word and action perfectly, until you were involved. Like, uh, normally he wouldn’t go into the med rooms without our Alpha present but he’s rarely more than a few steps away from you. Hell, I'm shocked he's not here now,” she laughed, sipping her drink. “Oh! And the look he gave poor Marty for getting too close to you? He's still scared of him!”

“He has that effect,” Stiles snickered. “I wish I could say he’s all bark and no bite to put you at ease, but it'd be a lie.”

“He’s obsessed with you,” Ameila said, rolling her eyes and opening another drink for Stiles.

He shook his head at the drink. “I'm good,” he said and Ameila shrugged, setting it next to him.

“You have to tell me all about this prospective lover boy,” Amelia teased, opening another drink for herself.

Derek found himself wandering back to the Emissary’s workshop around midnight. Stiles had yet to come back to their room and, despite his confusion on where they stood, Derek couldn't sleep without him.

When Derek noticed that the shop's lights were off, he froze. His heart rate spiked. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit, where's Stiles? He was just here, he could still smell him. He could swear he was still here.

A squeaky screen door opened on a nearby house and someone stuck their head out. “Hey,” they called and Derek looked over at them. “You're Stiles' mate, ya? Nevermind, that was a stupid question. I can smell him on you from here. Come get him before he throws up on my couch.”

Derek hurried over to the house and followed the wolf into the house. Sure enough, there was Stiles laying on the couch, very drunk.

Derek sighed, patting Stiles's cheek to get him to wake up but he only hummed and leaned into Derek’s hand. “Idiot,” he mumbled to himself.

“Listen, I agreed to be responsible for that one,” the wolf who'd let Derek in said, pointing to Ameila, “but that one is all yours. Word of advice though, might keep an eye on him and the liquor. He can drink like an alcoholic.”

That one? Keep an eye on him? Did they think Stiles was a child? She was talking about him like he wasn't even a person and the way they talked about Ameila? What the hell did they mean, responsible for her?

“I don't need your advice,” Derek growled, carefully picking Stiles up and glaring heavily at the other wolf.

The wolf scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I was just making sure you know. Didn't mean nothing by it.”

Derek took a breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I'll take him back so he's not your problem anymore. And, by the way, His name is Stiles,” Derek grumbled and the other wolf shrugged, holding the doors open for Derek to carry Stiles out.

Derek was fuming as he walked Stiles back to their cabin. Who talks about another person like that in a serious tone? As a joke, maybe. Saying Stiles drank like an alcoholic? That was over the fucking line. You don't just say that shit! You just—

“Derek,” Stiles mumbled, opening his eyes tiredly, a slight slur to his words.

“It's me,” Derek answered, glancing at Stiles as he walked.

“You're warm,” Stiles hummed, leaning into Derek more.

How could someone see this as a burden? He knew what Stiles was like when he was drunk. He'd ramble about his favorite shows or his current hyperfixation. He talked without a filter and was about as graceful as a newborn baby deer, sure, but he wasn't trouble. If he felt sick, he'd lay down and eventually fall asleep just like he had. And the one time Stiles had thrown up from drinking, he felt like shit about it and tried to clean it up himself. How was he a problem?

And calling him an alcoholic? Stiles was fucking terrified of becoming an alcoholic. Derek had seen Stiles drunk a total of 5 times in the years he's known Stiles. That fucking asshole had known Stiles for, what, a week? Maybe two? Where did they get off saying Stiles was an alcoholic?

“Sorry you had to come get me,” Stiles mumbled, yawning. He wrinkled his nose. “Shit, is that me? I smell awful.”

“You smell like alcohol,” Derek mumbled, not disagreeing. Like alcohol and that fucking house.

“Fuck,” Stiles groaned, “I didn't… We were talking about magic and the wolves and mates and this whole mess and I didn't even realize..” Derek hummed in acknowledgement, listening to Stiles and, shit, he was being so nice about it. Stiles felt like shit. This was his fault. Derek must ave been so worried about him and, fuck, he must be pissed!

“I'm really sorry, Der. We were just venting about the crap half of the magic and then Ameila offered me a drink and we were talking about our packs and all the crap we've been through and then she asked about you… I don't know and being mates and it's all so much and, come on, you got stuck with me, out of all people! And everytime she got herself another, she got me one too andI said I was good but I guess I didn’t realize. I'm really sorry Der…”

Derek stopped, looking at Stiles seriously. “One more time. What happened,” he asked and Stiles's face went red.

“Do I have to?”

“You told her you were done and she kept giving you drinks,” Derek asked.

“Kind of? I guess,” Stiles rubbed his face, “I mean, ya. I didn't think they were that strong but maybe I was wrong.”

“Stiles, you said you were done?”

“Kind of? She asked if I wanted another and I said I was good.”

Derek gritted his teeth, He took a while to say anything else. Stiles was starting to think Derek was mad at him.

“You said you were done and she kept giving you more?”

“Ya, but I drank them. I should've stopped.”

“So should she,” Derek scoffed, bumping the door to their room open. “Why don't we head for the next pack tomorrow? you can sleep in the jeep if you still don't feel good.”

“I'm sorry,” Stiles mumbled.

Derek sighed, putting Stiles down to lean on the bed. He took a breath and looked at Stiles. He looked so upset, it made Derek's heart sche. He held Stiles’ face in his hands. “I'm not med at you,” he told him. “I'm not particularly happy with Emissay Ameila at the moment or that fucking asshole she lives with.”

“Sarah? She's a little rough around the edges but—”

“Stiles,” Derek said. “I don't really care who it was. You're upset, I'm slightly less pissed now, but, between the two of us, I think it's time we go. If you really want to stay… just know that it might feel like I'm glued to you.”

Stiles laughed, leaning into Derek's touch. “I don't think leaving early would be that bad,”

“Thank god,” Derk huffed. Fuck, he relly wanted to kiss Stiles. He was so close and that fucking smile. He looked so cute when he was tired… “You should probably take a shower,” Derek mumbled, stepping back from Stiles. He saw how Stiles’ shoulders sagged when Derk let go of him.

“Uh, ya. I should,” Stiles said, grabbing his clothes and headed for the bathroom.

From the fifth pack, Derek learned that they both might have been a little too trusting.

They both learned for each of the twenty-three packs they visited. Stiles learned about magic and Derek learned how much he didn’t know about Stiles. The more Derek learned about Stiles, the more he loved him.

As they drove across the state, Derek made a list of things he loved about Stiles. Stiles' smile could light up a room. His eyes were honey golden in the sun. He loved kids and kids loved him. He was a fast learner. He was polite and respectful. He asked so many interesting questions Derek would never have thought of. He was a horrible dancer but didn’t let it stop him from having fun. He would scream the lyrics of songs he really liked. He had a serious caffeine addiction that made him a sleepy mess in the morning. He focused on things he enjoyed like they were the only thing in the world. He noticed everything. He would yell in triumph when he gained a new skill. He would try any food once. He would say he would say he wouldn’t to do a task he hated the entire time he did it. He liked to complain but would freak out if you actually tried to accommodate his complaints. Stiles was amazing and irritating and stupid and a genius and Derek loved him. It wasn’t because they were mates and some cosmic force decided they needed each other. No, Derek had slowly fallen in love with Stiles.

From the twenty-third and final pack, Stiles learned about spirit vision– the ability to see the souls of others.

Saffi was the Emissary to teach Stiles about seeing the souls of others. It was almost fitting since she was the person who told Stiles that cloaking magic didn’t work on mates because she could see Stiles and Derek’s mate bond from a mile away.

A lot of time was spent watching the pack. Stiles was trying to learn to see souls without having physical contact with another person. He’d done it twice: one with Willow and Casey and once with Leanndra, Garrett and Andy.

Derek had been walking when he heard Stiles talking. “What do family bonds look like,” Stiles asked Saffi. Really, Derek should have kept moving but he found the lessons Stiles learned to be interesting.

Saffi smiled at him. “It’s very similar to a mate bond but the child’s, or children’s, soul is distinct from their parents. It still swirls and wraps around the others.”

“I saw one,” Stiles muttered, looking at Saffi. “Derek… When we were with this pack that takes in pups without family to care for them, he held this little boy.” Stiles smiled thinking about Eli. “I looked at Derek and his spirit and how it's attached to mine but I saw what you described. I got this feeling like he belonged with us…” Stiles shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“That’s amazing, Stiles,” Saffi told him with a huge smile. “Did you tell Derek?”

That was Derek’s cue to move along. He went on with his day, at least he tried to, but the conversation ran through his head on loop. He was supposed to have a family. A real one.

From the twenty-third pack, Derek learned that he was supposed to be a family with Stiles and Eli.

They drove into Beacon hills as the sun was going down. Derek drove to see the progress on the Hale house. He parked in front of the nearly completed house and smiled. It was perfect, just how he remembered.

Stiles woke up and glared against the jeep’s lights. He saw the Hale house and yawned. “Is it done?”

“Almost. They need to finish the plumbing,” Derek said, looking at Stiles and something clicked. He was head over heels in love with Stiles. "Marry me…"

Stiles looked at Derek, processing what he said. "What," was all he could manage.

"Marry me," Derek repeated and Stiles groaned, rubbing his face.

Stiles huffed a sigh and turned in his seat to look directly at Derek. "Derek, you're tired. You're going to wake up tomorrow and all of this will be a really embarrassing sleep deprived mistake," Stiles told him, more than sure he was right.

Derek shook his head. "I have never been more sure of something in my life," he mumbled.

Stiles wanted to scream. This wasn’t happening. Derek was not asking his to marry him in the jeep they had spent eight months driving around in. When he was finally about to open his mouth without screaming incoherently, Stiles told him "ask me in the morning when you haven't been driving for five hours straight."

Derek agreed and Stiles Melted into his seat. He could not do this. He was too tired. He wasn't able to sleep where he was comfortable. He wanted to collapse into the pile of werewolves and werecoyote and banshee and kitsune and humans. Stiles was bone tired.

They drove to the loft and stumbled in with bags of clothes and keepsakes they had acquired along the way. It was late. Stiles trudged up the stairs and into the room that had been turned into the designated cuddle pile room.

When he found the pack up and dressed, ready for a run, Stiles went off. “Oh Hell no! You aren’t doing any such thing,” Stiles yelled at the people blankly staring at him. “Every goddamned one of you better be in pjs and ready for a damn cuddle pile in an hour or I will show you what I’ve learned.”

Stiles glared at them, waiting for the surprise to wear off. When it did, Stiles was attacked by an onslaught of hugs and whining and mumbles that told his he better never leave them again.

Stiles got what he wanted. The entire pack was curled up in a pile, fast asleep. They made faces when Derek laid behind Stiles and wrapped an arm around his waist. There were probably more stares when Stiles rolled over and hid his face against Derek but he didn’t care.

Stiles woke up the next morning more well rested than he’d been since he left Beacon Hills. He smiled when he found a warm pot of coffee left by Lydia. He poured himself a cup and Sat down at the breakfast bar. Derek wasn’t far behind Stiles, but stopped to look for something before he walked down stairs to see Stiles.

Stiles looked at the stair when he heard Derek coming and grinned. "was I right or was I right," he asked, waiting for Derek to act all embarrassed about last night.

Instead, Derek stood behind him, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist. He kissed Stiles’ neck and held out a ring. "Marry me," he asked again.

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The jeep was parked at the edge of the Preserve. The passenger side door was open and Stiles leaned over the baby seat. He had already tied the sling to his front and the collection bag on his back.

“You’re going to help dada collect ingredients,” Stiles cooed at the baby and he giggled. “Ya,” Stiles said with a smile. He unbuckled the baby, tickling him. The baby giggled and Stiles laughed with him.

“Stiles,” a voice, Derek, called from behind him.

Stiles whipped around, grabbing an exploding pouch. He sighed when he saw Derek. “Hey Sourwolf. You scared me,” he said with a smile.

Derek looked at him skeptically, leaning to the side to see into the jeep. “Did you bring Eli out here?”

“What? No,” Stiles scoffed, blocking Derek’s view. “Why would I do that?”

Derek hummed, walking closer. Eli giggled, blowing spit bubbles, and Stiles had to stop himself from smiling. “Then whose baby is in the jeep,” Derek asked and Stiles didn’t answer. “Nothing to say?”

“Well,” Stiles sighed, turning to pull baby Eli out of his seat, “it would be a lot harder to explain bringing someone else’s baby out here.”

Derek hummed, kissing Stiles. He smiled when Eli grabbed his hand, trying to eat Derek’s finger. “Be careful, especially collecting the wolf’s bane.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I packed a cure just in case,” he said, slipping him into the baby sling. “That’s why bubby is facing dada, ya. So we don’t grab things,” Stiles smiled, kissing the top of Eli’s head. “Do you want to walk with us,” he asked Derek.

“They finished construction on the house so I want to finish painting Eli’s room today,” Derek hummed.

Stiles pulled Derek down for a kiss and smiled. “I think I won this whole dating thing. I got a boyfriend, a house, and a baby in one go.”

“It would be husband if you would say yes,” Derek said snarkily.

Stiles chuckled and Kissed Derek. “Then woo me! Make me want to be a Hale,” Stiles told him, walking off into the trees.

Derek smiled. He was definitely going to marry that man one day.