#the internet thinks they either died or ran away together and neither of them are entirely wrong

[aspiringjester]

you know what sometimes you see a tweet and you know what you gotta do and now i'm thinking about the state of the internet post-death of airplane bro and his biggest (fan) hater

screenshot & individual images THAT I MADE under the cut (if u even care,,,,,)

(also you can retweet my masterpiece here if you dare)

[astaroth1357]

The Obey Me Cast on a Camping Trip (Part One: Brothers)

Hey guys, thank you sooo much for getting me to 2,000 followers!! I honestly don’t know what to say... I never dreamed that this little hobby of mine would reach so many eyes, and I can’t be more grateful. At a time in my life where things feel so chaotic and uncertain, being a part of this community and sharing my weird ideas has been what’s kept me going. It’s been such a rewarding experience all around, so thank you. From the bottom of my heart. 😊

I pulled out all the stops for this post. I even brought out one of my favorite songs of all time: Ao to Natsu by Mrs. GREEN APPLE to get the feel juuust right. I hope you all enjoy it!

This post is split in two due to length (I had too much fun again...) For the Undateables, please click HERE!

Intro:

Another day, another team building activity between the demons and the exchange students. It was Diavolo’s idea to go on a camping trip to the human world (because of course it was), and there were very… mixed responses. That sentiment wasn’t helped when he refused Lucifer’s insistent pleas to just purchase cabins for everyone to stay in. Oh no, the Demon Lord wanted to rough it out in the wilderness, and now everyone else was getting dragged along with him…

Wonder how that turned out?

Lucifer

Really, really, really tried to push Diavolo to just rent out cabins in but noooo, he wasn’t having it... So he ended up driving a van crammed with his brothers, the MC, and a butt-ton of camping equipment into the Alaskan wilderness… 

The car ride itself was insufferable… We’re talking, “I SWEAR I WILL TURN THIS CAR AROUND!!” level of antics every 10 miles or so (mostly from Mammon)…

Setting up camp was even more of a nightmare because about half of his brothers were utterly useless. The other half (save Satan) were completely clueless… Had it not been for Barbatos and Satan he probably would have just resigned himself to the mercy of the river’s currents and let it take him away…

He couldn’t even wear his usual clothes because of the situation… For the first time in who knows how many centuries, he was stuck wearing jeans… Diavolo even bought him several plaid shirts... (which he was not happy with btw because his brother wouldn’t stop making fun of the “new” him)

He had his own tent of decent-size, enough to move around in but nothing to write home about. The very fact he didn’t have to share was a luxury in itself, so he took it for what it was worth...

He spent a good portion of the trip focused on two things: keeping Diavolo happy and everybody else alive. He rarely left camp unless forced to; he just wanted to get it all over with as soon as possible…

If he did leave, it was because Diavolo would drag him along to fish or hike. He was... less than pleased to be called out of his tent at the crack of dawn or well past dusk to sit on a little rented fishing boat with Diavolo… but he didn’t exactly pick his friends so...

He rates the trip Too Much Trouble/10. Let’s never do it again.

Mammon

Wasn’t a massive fan of being stuck out in the wild, but Satan told him some made-up bullshit about buried treasure out in the forest and got him HOOKED. He even borrowed stole a whole bunch of mining/digging equipment just for the occasion!

He spent most of the car ride asking, “Are we there yet??” like a child. The MC had to step in to keep Lucifer from leaving him on the side of the road at multiple points during the journey... 

He was one of the utterly useless ones when it came to setting up camp. Someone charged him with putting up the twin’s tent, and he spent thirty minutes reading (then re-reading) the instructions while shouting expletives. Poor Simeon had to shield Luke from the vulgarity…

He has to share a tent with Levi, which neither of them liked. Mammon mainly because of Levi’s “old fish stink” and Levi because he feared catching “Mammon’s stupid.”

He was all jazzed up to go digging from Day One, though. He’d have breakfast, grab his shovel, then wander out into the middle of nowhere to go dig holes in the ground…

He also got completely lost on Day One, and it took the MC summoning him with their pact to return him to the group... By that time, he was filthy and somehow looked like he had been castaway for days (even though he was gone for like, three hours?)

When he stubbornly refused to stop digging, Lucifer resorted to just tying a rope around his ankle and letting him loose. It was up to Mammon to get back to camp before dinner, or else Lucifer would yank him back like he was on a leash.

Satan waited until the last day to finally tell Mammon the treasure was bullshit, and he was PISSED. He even threw Satan into the river, which resulted in the rest of the brothers joining in for a swim while the two tried to “playfully” drown each other.

He’d rate this trip 0/10 because he didn’t get any buried treasure. What a ripoff…

Leviathan

Hated the idea with a burning, seething passion. There’s no internet, cable, electricity, or phone signal out in the middle of nowhere! How the heck is an otaku supposed to survive?!

He clung to his electronics during the car ride until either they ran out of signal or their battery died, then he didn’t know what to do with himself… He resorted to reading several volumes of the manga he stuffed into his bag and clung to the MC for emotional support…

Yet another useless soul trying to put the camp together. He was in charge of his and Mammon’s tent but ended up almost crying in frustration… How the hell do humans do this all on their own?? Wasn’t he supposed to be the third strongest?! Why is he so pathetic?!? 😫

Hates sharing a tent with Mammon because he always wakes up to the second born encroaching on his space somehow… Poor baby is pretty much directly against the tent wall and STILL has to deal with legs and elbows in his side... 😰

Spends the majority of the trip moping in the tent... If he goes out there, he has to deal with the sun, bugs, and people… No thanks. He only leaves for meals and occasionally to go swimming. 

When he found out part of the way through that Barbs brought portable solar panels and a battery pack for Diavolo and Lucifer’s phones, he was livid. He demanded access to the power source, which Lucifer refused because “It would defeat the purpose of this trip.”

He’d have summoned Lotan right then and there, deadass in the middle of the forest, if the MC hadn’t intervened. He then went back to moping, but now at the bottom of the lake and it took a lot of coaxing to get him back out…

On the final day, he was packing up the camp before anyone else even woke up. He wanted OUT and back to civilization ASAP. Bedroom here he comes!

Satan

You wouldn’t think of Satan as an outdoorsy guy. Still, he has shades of a survivalist in him (mostly because he’s read a lot of guides and was looking for an excuse to use them for a loooong time).

He read for the majority of the ride. He was squished between Asmo and Levi, which was reasonably peaceful. But he did end up shouting at Mammon quite a bit towards the end because “NO, we’re not there yet, peabrain!!”

He actually wasn’t a waste of space when setting up the camp, and between him, Barbs, and Lucifer, they were able to get a lot of stuff set up before sundown. He did have to bark a few orders to the others here and there, but overall competency won out in the end.

He shared a tent with Asmo, and the two made it work well enough… Except when Asmo did things like spraying his perfumes and dry shampoos, making it practically impossible to breathe in for a few minutes…

Spent a lot of the first few days reinforcing the camp to a ridiculous degree.

Did he have to collect large branches to build an exterior fence around the campsite? No. But he did.

Did he have to set up a water distillation system using some of the materials Barbs had lying around the “kitchen?” No. But he did.

Did he have to weave a series of fishing nets to catch them lunch from the lake and river? I think you get the point by now.

Only once he built pretty much every contraption or improvement he could think of, did he go back to just reading and relaxing by the fire.

By the time the group was ready to leave, Satan had somehow managed to craft them a veritable, self-sustaining fortress in the middle of the Alaskan wilds…

Overall he would rate the trip as… meh. Next time give him a challenge like a deserted island or an actual desert, and then he’ll really see what he can do.

Asmodeus

Was about as unhappy with the idea as Levi was… It wasn’t that he disliked the outdoors per se, it was just that no one, NO ONE, pulls off looking flawless after several days stuck in a tent!

He chatted the entire car ride from start to finish. He never stopped talking. It made for decent background noise at least…

Was one of the more clueless ones when trying to set up camp and pretty just did what he was ordered. The second he was left to try and figure something out on his own, he went to Lucifer or Satan for help because NOPE. Human equipment is needlessly complicated sometimes…

He had to share a tent with Satan, which in theory shouldn’t have been that bad, but Satan was out basically all day in the sun doing who knows what and would always come back sweaty and gross! At some points, he had to chase his brother out of the tent until he dunked himself in the river or something. No way was Asmo sleeping next to that. 😤

Asmo took the second-longest to get up and get ready in the morning. Sometimes he wouldn’t even leave the tent until well past breakfast just in an attempt to salvage his hair and skin… He only got grouchier about it as the trip went on… 😥

A more… earthy looking Asmo is kind of a bizarre sight. He’s still attractive, no doubt, but it’s less like polished glamour and more like Hollywood humble. He spent the majority of the trip looking like a somewhat dirtied movie-star (which he still insisted was the worst he’s ever looked in ages).

Aside from salvaging his looks, he actually enjoyed taking pictures of their surroundings or of the group (but not himself). He sometimes forgot how genuinely breathtaking the human world could be…

….but his patience for the place wore out quickly once he started noticing his hair getting greasy. He was right next to Levi, packing up the site once it was finally time to leave. At least those two finally found something they could agree on, let’s get the fuck out already! 

Beelzebub

He was really curious about trying camping food and pretty excited that Barbatos was coming, too (because that meant great food in general).

Unfortunately, Lucifer had to stop the van at basically every gas station they passed for Beel could refill on snacks… Belphie ended up getting buried in wrappers pretty often, but he was asleep, so it didn’t matter much.

Beel did a lot of the heavy lifting when setting the camp up, but the finer details were left up to everybody else. He had his hands full getting stuff off the cars as is…

Of course, he shared a tent with Belphie, and there wasn’t much complaint between them. Honestly, there would have been more drama if they were split, so this was the better option.

After the MC told Beel about fishing and how it could net him more food, if he did it right, he knew exactly what he wanted to do during the trip.

… But no one told him how long and slow the process would be. There were points he’d get so hungry he’d consider eating the bait himself…

That was until about Day Three of the trip when they passed by a river full of grizzly bears… He was about to ask the MC why the bears were all standing in the water, but then he saw a fish practically leap directly into one’s mouth…

Beel had discovered his true calling.

Of course, the grizzlies didn’t take too kindly to a demon suddenly sprinting into the water with them. They tried to fight him off, but Beel just tossed most of them downstream without any issue until they realized who the apex predator really was…

After forming a shaky truce with the bears, Beel would stand in the water for hours then come back with whole baskets full of salmon… There were far more fish than Barbatos knew what to do with, so he’d just confiscate a few then let Beel eat the rest...

The MC shuddered to think about what Beel had done to the local salmon population… But he was full and happy for most of the trip, so he had a great time!

Belphegor

Sleep for him isn’t too contingent on location, so the idea of camping wasn’t terrible. It did sound like a lot of hassle for no good reason, though…

He spent the entire car ride asleep, head and cow pillow pressed up against the window and everything. It wasn’t the most comfortable experience, but he’d dealt with worse.

He was utterly useless when putting up the camp by choice, thank you. He had more than enough sense to get things put together; he just didn’t want to. If he wasn’t asked to do something by Beel or the MC, he’d just lay back in the grass and smugly watch everybody else struggle…

Again, he and Beel are in the same tent, and you wouldn’t hear any complaints out of him. He did start to have some second thoughts when Beel began getting a fishy smell, though, so he tried to bunk with the MC in their tent for a while.

Like Levi, Belphie didn’t leave the tent much during the daylight hours, but that was because he was still asleep… There was no good way to wake him with no alarms available, so he’d sleep in past lunch easily.

When he was awake, he didn’t leave camp very much except to walk with the MC or watch Beel fishing grizzly-style.

Eventually, Asmo and Diavolo got sick of him dodging their photos, so they’d started posing him Weekend at Bernie’s style around the camp (always conveniently propped up by something and with sunglasses on)

Something Belphie did like, however, was the nighttime. Since there were no lights around, he could practically see everything the sky had to offer. He could spend hours laying on his back long after everyone else had gone to bed just admiring the stars.

All in all, not a terrible trip. Anything that could give him that view like that was well worth it. 6/10, would sleep again.

Click HERE for Part Two. Check out my Masterlist for more!

[wizardofahz]

High School Reunion

A/N: Midvale is coincidentally set around the time Alex’s 10-year high school reunion would’ve been, so that’s when this is set.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Alex heads down to the beach.

Spending the night in her childhood bed and the emotional release of her conversation with Kara had been nice, but leftover pent up energy is making her restless. A difficult run in the sand should help.

It does at first. It’s been a while since she’s run on a beach. All her energy is spent on reacquainting herself with the lack of solid footing, the way the sand deforms under her feet, how much harder her muscles have to work to extract her feet and carry them forward.

Not long after she falls into a steady rhythm, Alex spots two women walking ahead of her. They’re going in the same direction as her, but she passes them easily.

The monotony of her physical movements allows her mind to wander. Inevitably her thoughts return to Maggie. Actually, no, not Maggie but the coming out journey she had helped along. Alex’s self-realization may have come in National City, but the signs had started here in Midvale.

Vicki hadn’t been her only crush, she’s sure. Over the past year, other memories have come back to Alex, puzzle pieces falling into place with a startling new clarity. Alex wonders how many she’s forgotten. Her mother hadn’t been surprised when Alex came out to her. Maybe she remembers more.

Eventually Alex decides to head back. At this point, she can run half the way and use the last half as a cool down walk.

The two women from before are still walking in the same direction. Alex glances at them, prepared to give a courtesy nod, but recognition stops that plan in its tracks.

It’s Josie.

And Vicki.

Crap.

After Kenny’s death, the friend bubble that had shattered so quickly around Alex hadn’t lasted much longer for Josie.

Except Vicki.

Vicki had been so unfailingly kind to and well-liked by everyone that she had the unique ability to stand up for anyone regardless of social status. And so she did for Kenny, Josie, and Alex.

Until Alex had screwed that up.

Alex hopes they won’t recognize her. She really doesn’t need this reunion now of all times.

No such luck.

“Alex?” Josie says as Alex nears.

Alex skids to a stop, momentum carrying her past Josie and Vicki, so they all have to turn to see one another.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Josie continues.

Feeling more off-kilter than just her sudden stop can explain, Alex says, “I-- Josie, hi. Come to what?”

“The reunion.”

Josie’s words ring a distant bell though Alex doesn’t know how. She doesn’t really keep in touch with anyone from high school, though she sees the occasional update on social media. Maybe her mom mentioned it on a phone call. Either way, Alex has a vague recollection of hearing that her 10-year high school reunion is being held sometime around now. Apparently exactly now.

That also explains Vicki. From a brief moment of weakness when Alex googled her, she knows Vicki hasn’t lived in Midvale since she left for college either.

Vicki alternates between averting her gaze and shooting Alex odd looks. Once upon a time, Alex would’ve known what those looks meant.

“Oh, that’s this weekend?” Alex says. “Umm, I’m actually not here for that, just coincidence really.”

“Well, even if you hadn’t planned on going, since you're here, why don’t you drop by the reunion anyway?" Josie offers. “I’m sure we’ll be well-stocked with booze if nothing else.”

“I’ll think about it,” Alex says, her version of ‘thanks but no thanks.'

Josie seems to understand. “Either way, I’m glad we ran into each other. I wanted to say thank you and I’m sorry. The whole thing with Mr. Bernard...” She grimaces and shudders. “The more time passes, the grosser it feels. Thanks for ending it.”

“Just glad I could help,” Alex says. Maybe if Vicki wasn’t here, she’d ask how Josie is doing. But Vicki is here, which means Alex would very much like to be anywhere else. “I should finish my run before I cool down. See you around?”

Josie nods, looking a little lighter. “See you.”

Alex takes one last glance at Vicki.

The odd expression now looks like jealousy.

... 

Alex watches the waves crash into the rocks below.

As the water recedes, she hears the shuffle of someone approaching.

There are very few people who know about her hideout. It’s not the sort of place people find by chance. The rocky cliff face is sloped but occasionally steep. Getting to her particular little hole in the wall requires knowing that sometimes the best way across is going down then up.

Her father is MIA. Her mom wouldn’t know to come looking for her now. This area is remote enough that Kara typically flies, which only leaves--

Alex sighs.

“I’m not in the mood to fight,” she says.

“Me neither,” comes Vicki’s voice moments before she appears. “I thought you’d be here.”

“Shouldn’t you be with Josie?” Alex wishes she could sound calmer, neutral at least, but her voice comes out reeking of resentment. “Doing... whatever, walking? Something?”

“I’ll see her tonight,” Vicki says evenly, and Alex’s resentment grows. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Vicki tilts her head towards the empty space beside Alex, asking if she can sit. The cave can probably fit three or four people, but given the giant elephant in the room, the prospect of two seems cramped.

Alex nods anyway.

An uncomfortable silence settles between them until Vicki clears her throat.

“I wish I knew what to say sorry for,” Vicki says.

Confusion proves a preferable alternative to discomfort. “Why would you be sorry?” Alex asks.

“You know, when we were kids, I remember hearing a lot about heartbreak,” Vicki says, and Alex’s own heart convulses in her chest. “No one ever told me you could feel it as deeply with friends.”

Friends. Right.

“I missed you, you know?” Vicki continues. “In college and even now, whenever I learn something interesting but super nerdy, I think, ‘Alex would love this.’”

“Ouch?” Alex says--she's a nerd but is she that nerdy--but she knows what Vicki means. When reading feel-good stories on the internet, she often thinks that Vicki would do something like that.

Vicki smiles, a subtle quirk of the mouth. “Watching you with Josie just now... it seemed so easy. I wish I could remember why we fought. If I said something stupid or insensitive... I remember it was after your dad died and then Kenny.”

“What? No!” Alex says immediately. “At least I don’t think so. To be honest, I also have no idea what we were fighting about.” Then because she feels guilty about Vicki’s guilt, she adds, “I did sort of have an epiphany last year about why though.”

“Last year? That’s random.”

“Not really.” Alex's face is burning now. She wishes the cave was bigger, provided at least a facade of an escape. But then again, maybe with an escape, she wouldn’t be bringing herself to having this conversation. “I, umm, I came out last year. I guess I’m coming out again now. To you. But I-- last year I came out for the first time, and it sort of made me think about things, and I didn’t realize it at the time, but I think I had a crush on you, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Vicki looks stunned, and Alex immediately regrets saying anything. All of her coming out experiences until now had been positive, but now Maggie’s story about her and Elisa is rattling around her head. Alex racks her brains, trying to remember if Vicki said anything in high school that even hinted at homophobia.

An even more panicked thought runs through her head. Alex is pretty sure she’s the stronger of the two of them. If someone is getting pushed out of this cave, it’s not her.

“You know what,” Alex says quickly, desperately retreating from that terrible thought. “We can forget I said anything.”

“No, I… Thanks for sharing. I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to,” Vicki says.

Relief floods through Alex’s body. It’s not enough to calm her pounding heart and twisting stomach, but it provides a moment of clarity. She’d been talking a mile a minute and given Vicki less than half a second to respond before she went into panic mode.

“To be honest, I think I’m more surprised that you had a crush on me specifically,” Vicki continues. “You’re such a perfectionist. That you of all people could think that I was worth crushing on... It’s kind of flattering.” She’s quick to clarify, “Not in a weird way!”

Alex laughs, shaky but sincere. “Well if it helps, I don’t have a crush on you anymore.”

Vicki nudges her leg against Alex’s. “My turn to say, ‘Ouch.’”

Silence settles between them again. Alex wishes she could say this one is less awkward than the previous, but they still have ten years of distance between them.

Again, Vicki is the one to break the silence. “So what brings you to Midvale since it’s not the reunion?”

“I’ve been going through--” Alex lets out a weary sigh “--something. I don’t want to talk about it, but Kara thought it’d be a good idea to get away from National City for the weekend.”

Vicki respects Alex’s wishes and pivots. “And how is Kara? Seemed like Supergirl also had it rough for a while.”

Alex thinks she could rival Kara’s super speed with how quickly she turns to Vicki. “What? Why would you--”

“I’ve never said anything to anyone,” Vicki says with her hands up, “but I grew up with you. It’s kind of obvious.”

“No.” Alex sinks her head into her hands. “You can’t know.”

“I think it’s kind of amazing,” Vicki continues, oblivious to the panic once again coursing through Alex’s veins, “you two saving the world together.”

“You don’t understand,” Alex chokes out. “Do you remember Rick Malverne?”

Alex knows she’s breaking confidentiality by saying this, but she needs Vicki to understand the scope of the problem. If Alex missteps, it won’t be a great solution, but J’onn can wipe Vicki too.

Vicki’s brow furrows in thought before saying, “He liked you, right? Used to carry your backpack or something?”

“He also figured out that Kara is Supergirl, so if he knew, and you know, then how many other people in this town know?”

“Okay, uhh, even if other people do, no one is going to--”

“Earlier this year, he kidnapped me.” 

“Oh my God.”

“He wanted his father freed from prison, so he went after me, said that if Kara didn’t break him free, he’d kill me. Nearly did too. But the point is that I can’t do that to Kara again.”

“What about you though? Are you okay?”

Alex looks down at the water below. The tide is rising much like the water in the tank. Alex shakes her head to wash the memories away.

“I’m fine.”

Vicki looks at her skeptically.

“I’m fine enough.”

“Well, if it helps, when I said it’s obvious, I meant to me.”

Alex shakes her head. “He knew because of that day on the beach. You know, when Kara saved that woman and her baby from the car? Our whole class was out there.”

“Yeah, but Rick moved away not long after, right? That’s one of his last memories of Kara, and it left an impression. No, hear me out. Everyone else who was there remembers her as that weird kid they picked on or avoided for years afterward. I’m pretty sure at this point the ‘weird kid Kara’ reputation is not the good kind of weird you’d expect to find in a superhero--no offense to her. It’s obvious to me because I know you, and especially in senior year after everything with Kenny, Sheriff Collins, and Josie, spending time with you meant spending time with Kara. I got to see her for the good kind of special that she is.”

“I don’t know.” Alex rubs her temples. She wishes it was that simple, but she doesn’t think it is.

“You know,” Vicki says playfully, sending off alarm bells in Alex’s head, “one way you can make sure is to come to the reunion tonight.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “I’d rather be kidnapped again.”

“Want me to sleuth around?” Vicki offers. “I may not be a super spy or whatever it is you do, but I’ve got skills.”

“No, we have other ways of dealing with this.” Alex makes a mental note to talk to J’onn. “And I was serious about the ‘you can’t know’ part. At the very least, you’re going to have to sign a lot of confidentiality documents.”

“Fair enough. Do I go to your office or something? Does that mean we’ll get to spend time together again? This has been nice.”

“We have another field office closer to where you live, not that I know where you live,” Alex adds quickly, but to her relief Vicki just laughs. “So, umm, maybe we could do something non-business related sometime?”

“I’d like that.”

[theotherackerman]

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan.

NOTES:

Monday January 18th

song played on mikasa's computer that is sang by mikasa and eren: coney island-taylor swift & the national

the game they are playing is card against humanity and I just googled random card to get that one.

chapter twenty-one: coney island

The video began to play on Mikasa’s laptop.

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

They were nineteen in the video.

Far before everything went to hell after Grisha’s death.

In the video, they were in Eren’s bedroom. He was gently strumming a guitar as he sat on his bed.

“Tell your dad to buy a piano over here,” Mikasa called from off screen.

“Shit, this won’t line up right,” Eren grumbled before adjusting the camera.

“Why are you recording this anyway?” Mikasa asked off camera.

“So when you go famous, I can sell it on the internet,” he grinned. “Get in frame.”

“Why? Then no one can confirm it’s me.”

Eren set his guitar down and dragged Mikasa into frame. She was laughing as he pulled her into his lap. He held her there.

“Now there’s proof. Okay, drag your keyboard over here and let’s do this,” he smiled at her.

“Fine,” she grumbled.

The screen went dark.

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

There was no more video but the audio continued to play.

Mikasa heard the playing of the piano.

“Is that me?” she asked as she looked over at Eren, taking her eyes away from the screen.

He nodded.

She began to recognize the music.

But this wasn’t the same song that her nineteen year old self had written.

No, this song was much more recent.

It had been the last song she had worked with Eren on.

Her eyes widened at the realization.

“{lyrics redacted due to copyright} ” Mikasa’s voice filled her bedroom from the speaker of the laptop.

Eren looked scared.

Like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright}.”

Mikasa reached across the bed but stopped from taking Eren’s hand again as her own voice cut through her thoughts and feelings.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright}. ”

She had been so lost back then.

Maybe that was why she had proposed.

Maybe that was why she thought the only clear answer was to commit more to Eren.

Maybe if she did then he would be okay.

He would understand that he was committed to her.

It was Eren’s voice that sliced through her thought this time.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright} ”

He had turned her song into a duet.

That was what he had been nervous about.

He was staring at her.

He was waiting for her reaction.

Her eyes met his.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright}.”

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them said anything.

In the audio, Mikasa’s voice joined Eren’s.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright}. ”

The chorus began, with both of them singing after that.

Mikasa’s head was swimming.

She had purposely forgotten about this song.

She was sure that somewhere around here she still had the lyrics in a journal.

An unfinished journal for an unfinished song of unfinished relationship.

Another move out of desperation.

If she had made so many moves out of desperation, how many had Eren made?

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright} ”

Mikasa knew exactly the place Eren was singing about in the song. The place where they had played as children, snuck away to make out as teenagers.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright}.”

The DUI.

Her?

He had seen her when he had almost died?

He had still wanted her then?

Of course he had, they had already been through this.

So as the song continued, Mikasa put her hand in Eren’s.

He smiled.

She pulled him towards her and he rested his head on her chest. She hoped he wouldn’t notice that her heart had sped up a little.

They stayed like that, even after the song had ended.

A CRASH came from downstairs.

“I think they’re back,” Eren muttered.

At some point, Mikasa had begun absentmindedly running her fingers through Eren’s long hair.

“Probably. Glad I shut the door.”

“So, do you hate it?” he asked finally.

She shook her head. “I love it. I loved that you were here to listen to it with me. I don’t think it would have been the same without you.”

Eren nodded.

“Why were you so scared?”

“It’s your music...I didn’t want you to think I ruined it or anything.”

“You’re wrong. It’s your music too. I didn’t compose it. You did and I loved it.”

He sat up.

Mikasa was disappointed that he moved away from her.

“If you actually hate it...you can tell me…”

Her hand grabbed his shirt, pulling him towards her.

“I love it.”

Was she going to kiss him now?

Would that be a good idea?

This whole situation was a mess.

“I’m...glad..” He mumbled.

“Eren, I don’t know if we should kiss yet or not. I don’t know how to go about redoing this whole….”

Her sentence was cut off by his lips on hers.

She sighed into the kiss as she kissed him back. Mikasa would have been lying if she said she hadn’t missed this. There was something about kissing Eren Jaeger that just made her feel so drunk and addicted. Maybe it was the way his lips moved on hers or how his hands were always in her hair. Maybe it was the way that no one else could ever make her feel this alive. Her heart was racing and any thoughts or worries seemed miles away as moved her hand from the front of his shirt to wrap around his neck.

When they were kissing, there were no other worries for either of them.

And maybe that was the moment that Eren realized he had been blowing this whole her listening to his song out of proportion. If it had led to this, this feeling of having her back in his arms. This feeling of her soft lips on his.

He was so weak for her.

And he didn’t even care who knew it.

Finally, when they both needed air, they broke apart. He rested his forehead on hers.

“Too soon?” he asked.

She shook her head. “We waited too long to do that again.”

Eren grinned. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

“Should we go see what they’ve destroyed downstairs?” she asked him.

“Probably or they’ll come looking for us to assume the worst,” Eren sighed as he pulled away from her. He stretched as he stood up.

Mikasa got off the bed and her hand slipped into his as they made their way out of her bedroom and downstairs.

“SQUISH IT AGAIN!” Historia yelled from her perch on the couch.

“I’m trying!” Ymir was chasing something around the couch while she was holding a frying pan.

“Is it dead?” Sasha asked as she poked her head out of the kitchen.

“NO! Ymir, kill it!” Historia cheered.

“What does it look like I’m trying to do over here? Take it on a date?” Ymir asked as she continued her chase.

As Ymir moved to the back of the couch, Mikasa and Eren saw the largest spider either of them had seen.

“Nope!” Eren yelled as he jumped into Mikasa’s arms.

“Where did that come from?” Mikasa asked.

“No idea. I threw my clothes in the laundry and this thing came out,” Ymir explained.

“Yeah, it tried to kill us!” Sasha called while standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

Ymir swung at the spider.

It jumped.

Ymir missed. The frying pan made a CRASH noise as it hit the floor.

The spider ran under the couch.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Ymir shouted as she stood up.

Levi came down the stairs and passed Mikasa and Eren. Eren was still in Mikasa’s arms with his arms thrown around her neck.

Levi went into the kitchen and pulled out a vacuum cleaner.

“Move,” he said as he came back into the kitchen.

Historia got off of the couch which Levi quickly flipped over.

The spider charged at Levi who pushed the vacuum straight for the spider.

At the last moment, the spider swerved and ran under Levi’s chair.

“See?!” Ymir said as she pointed towards the chair.

Levi was not going to be defeated. He dropped the vacuum to the floor. He picked up one of his steel toed boots and pulled it on. No one laughed as he made his way over to his chair. Levi flipped the chair and immediately stepped on the spider.

The spider was dead.

“You’re my hero, Levi,” Sasha said from the kitchen.

“Clean that up,” he said as he pointed to the remains of the spider left on the floor.

Annie came downstairs. “What did I miss?” she asked as she ran a hand through her hair. She clearly had just woken up from a nap.

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

After the carpet and Levi’s boot had been cleaned, they put the furniture back together.

“I think I’ll go shopping for a new couch,” Mikasa said as she flipped the couch over.

“We do need a new one. It’s so small,” Historia agreed.

Sawney and Bean came downstairs.

“Babies! You’re safe!” Ymir said as the dogs ran towards her. “Why was that spider so large?”

“Probably had a good food source if I had to guess,” Sasha shrugged.

“Great. Well, it’s dead now,” Ymir said before sitting down on the couch.  

“Should we just order dinner?” Mikasa asked before she sat down on the floor.

“Sounds good to me. I don’t really feel like cooking. A bakery bought all of our eggs today and we had to load them all into the truck,” Sasha collapsed next to Ymir.

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

Pieck had another glass of wine and sat down on Zeke’s couch.

“You’re worried about Eren,” she remarked.

“Am I doing the right thing?” Zeke asked her.

“What?”

“Moving him here. Selling his childhood home. Is that the right thing?”

Pieck sipped her wine. “The fact that you’re questioning it says you are. It says you care. I don’t think Grisha sat around and thought about whether or not he did the right thing. From what I know, I think the bastard just did whatever the fuck he wanted. Look at how that went for him.”

“I have a theory we all crave love. I wrote a paper on it. My mother...she loved me. She always made sure I knew she loved me. But my father...he never gave me that.”

“Dina was special. I miss her. How many years has it been?”

“Nine. Ten this year,” Zeke said before he looked down at his hands. “I was twenty-three. I can see her...all those machines hooked up to her.”

Pieck put her hand on Zeke’s shoulder.

“But after she was gone, well, you know how crazy my grandparents were. And then when I found out Grisha was dead….I thought Eren would be looking for a family like I was but...he was not. He already has a family. I feel like I am taking him away from that. I don’t want him to resent me for that.”

“You crave love from family,” Pieck concluded.

Zeke nodded. “I have had my fair share of relationships. They grow old for me, boring. Predictable. But to have someone who loved me and asking for nothing more….that would be good.”

Pieck hauled back and slapped Zeke in the back of the head.

“PIECK!” he yelled at her.

“You dumb fuck! I love you like that. Don’t you dare say we aren’t family. You say Eren and I are fucking stupid but you’re even more so. You think I don’t love you? What about Porco or Marcel? Or Gabi or Reiner? What about Falco, Udo, Zophia? Bertolt? EREN?” she slapped him again.

“Ow!” Zeke said as he rubbed the back of his head.

“I don’t care. Don’t you ever say you don’t have a love of a family, you dumbass!”

“You hit hard,” Zeke said as he continued to rub the back of his head.

“Good. Now bring me a pile of blankets so I can sleep here.”

“I love you too, you know.”

“Fuck off. Too little, too later, Jaeger.”

“But Pieck...you are my best friend,” he teased her.

“Go die in a hole,” she told him before taking another drink of her wine.

“You do not mean that. You would miss me.”

“Unfortunately for everyone involved, that is true.”

“What does Jean think about our friendship?”

“At first he thought you and I were dating,” Pieck replied.

“I know you said that but the idea….”

“Is absolutely ridiculous? I know. Maybe in another life but you know after you ripped my dolls head off and threw it back over the fence, I think our fate was sealed.”

“You kept throwing it at me!”

“I still haven’t forgiven you for that.”

Zeke just sighed.

“Go get my blankets so I can make my nest.”

“Fine….”

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

Levi was always the last one to go to bed.

Sawney and Bean followed behind him as he made his way towards his bedroom.

“Oh man! Come on, Ymir!” Eren’s voice came from Mikasa’s room.

“I told you! I own this game!” Ymir’s voice rang out.

Levi couldn’t stop himself from taking a few steps back to look into Mikasa’s room.

There was Ymir, Historia, Sasha, Annie, Eren, and Mikasa playing some sort of card game.

“Okay, you’re not getting the card this time. It says Jar Jar Binks is better than blank but not by much,” Eren read.

“Oh! I’ve got the perfect card for this one!” Sasha exclaimed.

He knew he should probably say something about them having work tomorrow.  He couldn’t help but be happy for all of them. They had had it rough, all of them. Sasha’s family almost losing the farm, Historia being Rod’s kid, Annie with the constant pressure from her father, Eren losing Carla and Grisha, Ymir having no family, and Mikasa losing both of her parents.

So let them be young and reckless for a while.

Levi smiled to himself as he made his way into his bedroom.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer IV: Memory Lane

Had this been any other scene, I would have thought the the two weren’t well matched. Lu Mingze, who looked like a middle school child on his way to prom, held a frigid and superior glint in his eye, looking at Lu Mingfei like a stork would look at a fish. Lu Mingfei on the other hand, a man in his twenties, held a resolute expression, but the twitch in his wrist revealed his nerves.

“Didn’t I promise you, brother, that you could have anything you want... almost anything, for the price of your body... your soul?” Mingze spoke softly, almost soothingly, like he was trying to persuade someone away from the ledge of a building, while at the same time, not really caring whether or not he jumped. “And haven’t I dealt fairly with you? Right after we got off this boat, did you save Nono and kill the King of Bronze and Fire?”

“Only... I couldn’t give you the credit. So you were still sad and lonely. Even if you couldn’t admit it.” 

The young boy gave a bitter laugh, but his eyes were sad, his expression disappointed.

Lu Mingfei said nothing as he listened, but he didn’t smile or joke around. The turbulent wind lifted the waves under the boat and it crashed hard against the rough surf but both kept their balance.

“I could have killed Caesar and given you Nono, but you didn’t want that either. I don’t understand, brother. You could easily have the power to take the victory against all the hybrids in the world. But you would rather fight me to stay in your miserable life? Why?”

“Don’t act like you care about me, little devil.” Lu Mingfei finally spoke and his voice came out as a soft, hoarse whisper. “You only want my soul. You don’t care about how I feel or how miserable my life is. Or else you wouldn’t make such an unreasonable bargain.”

“How is it unreasonable? The amount of power I grant is the greatest in the world. It’s unreasonable to ask for a discount because you’re too cowardly to pay the price.” He said, his voice taking on a hard edge.

“Shut up.” Mingfei’s voice grew softer.

“Alright. You’re the big brother. If you want me to shut up, I will. But we don’t have to be enemies like this.”

I looked to Mingfei. Even though both brandished weapons, neither were eager to be the first to attack.

“Aren’t you going to take revenge on this world that ignores you, puts you down and manipulates you? What have I done to turn you against me and take the side of the world that mistreats you?”

Mingfei’s eyes, which had been downcast and pensive snapped into focus. He crossed the distance between them in a single blurred motion. The blades pressed against each other, squealing as they scraped along their length. “All of this is your fault.”

“Is it?” Mingze suddenly dropped to the floor, landing on the palm of his hand and lifting himself from the deck, drilling both of his feet into Mingfei’s stomach in a flying kick. He let his feet drop and leaped again, slamming his skull into his chin.

Mingfei staggered hard against the railing, dazed, blood tricking from his split lip.

“All of this is my fault?” Mingze stalked forward, crouching low like a prowling lion. “You have no idea of the ways of the world, and even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe it. Everyone around you is telling you... you almost believed them. But she dissuaded you. She lulled you back into your dream. And well... here we are.”

“It’s not me you’re fighting, brother. You’re fighting the truth. I think you know...”

Lu Mingfei wiped the blood from his lip. “If you have something to say, you should say it!”

Mingze stopped his advance. He straightened up, growing cool again. “No... you wont’ believe me. It’s easier to show you.”

He turned and looked at me. He moved unnaturally fast, like a pouncing eagle. But I wasn’t slow either. I caught his arm before he could plunge the knife into my chest.

His smile was absolutely delighted. “You’ve gotten stronger! Amazing!”

I pushed his arm away and kicked hard at his knees, but he was faster. My neck caught his forearm and I was knocked into rail and somersaulted overboard. 

I heard Lu Mingfei calling for me but dark tentacles reached up and wrapped around my neck and arms, dragging me into the depths of the water. I could see the moonlight above my head shimmering in the water’s surface.  The dark blue began to close in. 

“Mingfei!” 

I sat up. The world smelled of gasoline and garbage. Where was I now? An alley? I was in a city. A place I didn’t recognize. Across the street, a bright sign advertised an internet cafe in bright Chinese characters, but the cafe was closed.

“Mingfei?”

I gathered myself to my feet. This wasn’t my dream. These had to be Mingfei’s dreams. I was wet, but then again, it was raining. The dirt and the rain mixed together, staining my white skirt. I examined my clothes, wondering why I was wearing these.

Dark shadows suddenly appeared in the entrance of the alley. Four men approached, all of Chinese descent. They sneered at me, licking their lips. One snapped a pocketknife in his hand, opened and closed. 

“I’m not a helpless girl.” I told them. “You’d best move along.”

They weren’t listening. They actually started laughing. I pressed my lips together and prepared to fight. Even in the dream world, I was still a hybrid. 

I didn’t bother waiting for them to attack first. I went for the knife, grabbing the mans wrist and using his natural twitch response to propel my foot into his face. My momentum carried me over his head. I planted both hands on his shoulders like a gymnast on the bar. My legs opened in a full split, the heads of the men on either side of them making a satisfying crack. 

I landed easily and turned to face them again. I expected them to back off but now they seemed to be twice as large. In the blink of an eye, thye’d turned into monsters with batlike wings and eyes that burned like torches. They screeched, lashing out with claws like meat hooks that tore at my clothes and ripped into my skin.

“Meixiu!” Mingfei charged into the group.

But Servitors were nothing to be fighting without heavy weapons or a Soul Skill. He threw a punch that could have split a man’s skull but the Servitor’s head was firm like granite. Instead, it grabbed Mingfei’s arm and sank its teeth into him.

“Meixiu! Run! Run! Get out of here!” Blood gushed down his arm and splattered on the ground. His arc knives made gashes in the flesh of the monsters but he was surrounded and seconds from being overwhelmed.

I couldn’t run. If he died in this dream, he might never wake up! As I ran back into the fray, I heard a voice. “You remember this... don’t you brother?”

Mingze was watching, standing the rain, positively gleeful. “Do you remember what happened?”

I had no idea what he was referring to and I didn’t care. I leaped onto the back of one that was sneaking up behind him and dug my fingers into its eyes.

“Argh!” A spine suddenly protruded from its back and pierced me about a half an inch. I staggered away and landed, falling to my side. The pain was unbearable.

“Damn it!” Mingfei’s voice drew my eyes open. It wasn’t a normal human voice, but deepening and snarling with hatred. I looked up.

Mingfei roared in a fury, his eyes burned molten gold. He grabbed the servitor that had injured me by the head and gave it a savage twist. My stomach turned at the dull gravelly crunch. The servitor collapsed, lying prone, but his head turned completely around, staring into the rain with a permanent expression of surprise.

Mingfei dismantled these creatures, striking their joints into unnatural positions. Each blow made the air tremble and the armored skin of his opponents shattered like glass until he alone stood among writhing bodies, his eyes burning, staring into space.

Mingze was silent, expressionless.

I opened my mouth to call to him, but nothing came out.

[luxekook]

the mirror | vmin

⇥ pairing: demon!jimin x reader x demon!taehyung

⇥ genre: smut, fluff, slight horror/thriller (?)

⇥ summary: demon!vmin want to make the reader theirs

⇥ word count: 2.4k

⇥ warnings: nc17, cursing, dirty talk, varying levels of smut, talk of demons and possession, general crack!fic

MAJOR DISCLAIMER: This is based on an actual dream I had and pretty much defies all logic. Lol, happy (early) Halloween!

© lustjoon. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

My new apartment currently resembled the aftermath of a B and E. Moving boxes were strewn everywhere, various pieces of Ikea furniture were left half assembled, and I was panicking. Asking for help had never been an issue for me before – I wasn’t much of a prideful person.

However, asking for help from my best friends Taehyung and Jimin had been harder than forcing myself to go to the gym. My reluctance to ask them over wasn’t that I didn’t like them. In fact, I had the opposite problem.

I loved them, and those feelings were so fucking confusing.

It wasn’t that I was too much of a little bitch to tell either of them how I felt; it was that I was too much of a little bitch to tell them both how I felt.

I loved Jimin. And I loved Taehyung. Equally.

You don’t even know how many hours I spent scouring the internet for any semblance of an explanation for how I felt.

Basically, I came to a couple conclusions:

1) I was into polyamory:

Polyamory is the practice of, or desire for, intimate relationships with more than one partner, with the consent of all partners involved. It has been described as "consensual, ethical, and responsible non-monogamy".

2) Some pretty badass women like Olive Byrne were polyamorous:

Olive Byrne was a polyamorous life partner of William and Elizabeth Marston and has been credited as an inspiration for Wonder Woman.

And now I was at an impasse – tell the boys and potentially ruin our friendship or never take the chance and stay firmly in the friend-zone.

Basically, I had chosen to do neither and avoid them for the past couple weeks like a fucking coward instead.

The doorbell sounded and shook me from my mini pity party. Time to face the music, I thought as I plastered a forced smile on my face. I opened the door and immediately was pulled into a hug by Jimin.

He spun me around, squeezing me tightly, “I missed you so fucking much, (y/n)!” My forced smile turned real as I felt his warmth around me.

“Stop hogging her, Jimin,” Taehyung said derisively as he stretched his arms out to me.

I wiggled out of Jimin’s hold and into Taehyung’s arms. He smelled like autumn – a heady mix of wood, spice and musk.

I noticed Jimin pouting over Taehyung’s shoulder and I couldn’t help but grin.

Reluctantly extracting myself from Taehyung’s hold, I was still smiling, “Thanks for coming over to help me. I’ve barely made a dent unpacking.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Jimin threw an arm around my shoulders – crushing both my neck and my feelings – while he and Taehyung shared a furtive glance, “Besides, we haven’t seen you for ages.”

“Right,” I mumbled and tried to shake it off the friend-zone comment, “Okay, well I think it’s best we start with the bedroom because I cannot sleep on an air mattress for a fourth night.”

A pregnant pause crackling with tension arose. My eyes darted between the boys who seemed to be having one of their infuriatingly cryptic telepathic conversations.

“You’ve been sleeping on an air mattress this whole time?”

Uh-oh. I knew Taehyung’s angry voice and he just used it.

“Yes…” I backed up as I noticed the boys had suddenly moved all up in my space.

“And you didn’t tell us because…”

Yup, there was Jimin’s angry voice. I was screwed. “Because I didn’t think it was a big deal?” I responded, confused as to why they were making such a fuss over a damn air mattress.

“Not a big deal,” Taehyung hissed and stalked off towards my bedroom, “I can’t do it, Jimin. Talk to her.”

I stared open-mouthed at Taehyung’s back as he exited the living room and made his way towards my room at the end of the hall. What the hell was going on here?

“What the hell is going on here?”

Jimin ignored my perfectly valid question, “You don’t think your health is a big deal? You shouldn’t be sleeping on an air mattress when there are perfectly good beds at me and Tae’s.”

“My health? It’s a fricking air mattress, not a pile of sticks, Jimin! Last time I checked, air mattresses were made for sleeping!”

He continued to ignore me, “You need to take care of yourself, (y/n).”

“You’re not my fucking father or boyfriend, Jimin. I don’t need a lecture.”

“Believe me, I know,” Jimin said darkly and turned away from me, heading in the direction Taehyung disappeared to. And I swore I heard him mutter, “Fuck a lecture, she needs a spanking.”

I stay rooted in my place against the wall and wondered what the actual fuck just happened.

Taehyung calling my name jolted me out of my reverie, “(y/n)? What’s this?”

“What’s what?” I asked, heading towards my room to see what he was asking about.

Oh god, what if he found my unopened stash of condoms?

My speed increased tenfold as I practically ran down the hall. Entering my room, I saw Taehyung staring down at a weird-looking mirror I hadn’t seen before.

“Where did you find that?” I question as Taehyung continues to look down at the mirror as if in a trance.

“Bro? You good?” Jimin asked as we exchanged a concerned look.

Taehyung slowly lifted his head up – his eyes closed; his mouth twisted into a smirk. “Never better,” his answering voice sent shivers down my spine. I opened my mouth to question his suddenly deepened tone when Taehyung opened his eyes.

Gone were the hazel eyes I loved so much and gone were any traces of light or reflection.

There was only darkness.

“Taehyung, what the fuck?” Jimin yelled and pulled me behind him.

“What?” Taehyung cocked his head slowly to the side, “What’s wrong?”

I gaped at Taehyung, “Your eyes…”

“…They’re black,” Jimin finished for me.

Tae’s answering grin was almost as alarming as his fucking black eyes as he peered into the strange mirror again, “Well, what do you know… they are.”

“Why aren’t you freaking the fuck out, Tae?” Jimin continued to shout at him as he moved to grab the mirror from him, “What the fuck is this shit?”

“Here,” Taehyung thrusted the mirror at Jimin, “Look.”

Jimin snatched the mirror from Taehyung and inspected the back of it. I looked over his shoulder, noticing the symbols etched upon its surface. They looked familiar.

Where had I seen them before?

As I wracked my brain, Jimin adjusted his grip on the mirror and its handle came into view. I was staring, completely horrified at its marking of an upside-down cross, when Jimin flipped over the mirror.

“No, don’t—!” My scared protest sounded too late, as I watched in terror as Jimin gazed into the mirror just like Taehyung had minutes before.

“Fucking dumbass,” I groaned. Clearly, the mirror had some kind of curse and Jimin had walked right into it.

Taehyung chuckled amusedly at my obvious distress and turned to his friend, “Feel that power, Jimin?”

Jimin glanced up at Taehyung with now-matching black eyes and leisurely rolled his neck, cracking it, “Oh, fuck yeah.”

My ‘fuck this shit’ meter hit level one million as both boys turned their heads to face me.

“Uh,” I backed up, “I’m gonna go… Feel free to show yourselves out.”

“Now, wait just a second, columba,” the foreign word flowed unnaturally easily from Jimin’s mouth.

Speaking yet another language? That was a big no from me, dog.

I took off.

“Come on, (y/n), don’t run from us,” Taehyung taunted as I ran out my door at full speed. Racing down the stairs and across the apartment lobby, I rushed outside. I could hear them calling my name behind me, “Columba, you know we’ll find you.”

Jimin’s teasing voice urged me to run faster. I knew they had to be fucking with me at this point. They worked out on the daily while I only worked out when hustling to meet my Postmates at the door.

I weaved between pedestrians and made the split-second decision to duck inside the local art museum.

Pushing through the doors, I quickly pivoted to the exhibit on the left – the sculpture hall. I careened to a halt behind a massive sculpture of Galileo and fought to catch my breath.

Had I actually lost them?

A spark of hope bloomed in my chest.

And subsequently died when I heard a whistled tune echoing from the exhibit entrance. Were they seriously harmonizing their whistles to “Jopping”?

Maybe they weren’t completely evil?

“Found you, columba,” Taehyung whispered in my ear – entirely too close for me. I opened my mouth to scream, but his palm covered my mouth, “Shh, this is an art museum, (y/n). It requires you to be quiet. And so do I.”

My eyebrows knitted together as I glared defiantly into his blackened eyes. 

Fuck that noise. 

Cursed or not, I didn’t take orders from assholes.

Taehyung noticed my thunderous expression and smiled hugely, “We love how feisty you are, columba. We want you to be our third.”

He looked at me expectantly. I rolled my eyes at his idiocy and stared at him pointedly.

“Oh,” Taehyung grinned sheepishly, removing his hand, “My bad.”

“Your bad,” I seethed, “Your fucking bad? Who the hell do you think you are?” 

He opened his mouth to respond but I plowed ahead, “That was a rhetorical question, you buffoon. Now listen up: I don’t know what exactly is going on here, but I do know that I’m not vibing with the whole cursed black eyes and new language thing.”

“Ah, Tae, you found her,” Jimin chose the absolute wrong time to interrupt. As I level my glare towards him, he actually flinched back.

“Great,” I laugh, “You’re both here. Now can one of you press your last two working braincells together and give me an explanation?”

“We want you as our third,” Jimin said, as if that explained it all.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I don’t speak demon.”

The boys snickered. “Yeah, the mirror chose wisely,” Taehyung told Jimin.

“Hello?” I waved my hand in between their faces, “I’m right here, boys.”

They turned to face me together. “We know,” Jimin said, prowling towards me.

“Yes,” Taehyung agreed, cornering me in from the other side, “We definitely know.”

“To be our third means that you’d complete our triad,” Jimin trailed his hand down my cheek, “Me, you, and Taehyung.”

“We know how you feel about us, columba,” Taehyung murmured from my other side as my back pressed further into the foot of the sculpture behind us.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I entered full deflective mode, “We’re friends – at least we were. Jury’s out right now.”

“Friends don’t want to fuck each other, (y/n).”

I choked on air at Jimin’s comment.

“You really should clear your search history,” Taehyung whispered into my neck, before giving it a nip.

I felt the blood drain from my face, “Search history?”

“’What is polyamory?’” Jimin ticked off a finger.

Okay, I could explain that search as innocent curiosity.

“’How to approach a polyamorous relationship’,” Taehyung continued and held up a second finger.

Again, I could probably play the innocence card.

“And, my personal favorite, ‘Is it wrong to fuck two friends at the same time?’” Jimin victoriously waves three fingers in the air.

Fuck. I forgot about that one.

I wracked my brain for excuses and came up with nothing. My shoulders slumped, “What do you want me to say? That I love both of you? That it’s embarrassing to admit? That I’ve been terrified to tell you? Take your pick!”

The boys looked at each other briefly and then back at me. “We’ve loved you since the day we met,” Jimin leaned in to kiss my cheek.

Taehyung pressed his mouth to my other cheek, and I could feel his lips moving against it as he added, “It’s true. We’ve been wanting to share you in every way since then.”

I was speechless – both from their proximity and their words.

“Look at her, Jimin. She’s gone quiet. Columba… Our little dove…” Taehyung trailed off, moving his mouth over mine and kissing me.

My body felt like it was on fire. My lips parted in a gasp and Taehyung took advantage, his tongue sliding across my own with a such a sensual slowness that my back arched against the statue’s pedestal behind me.

His hands travelled down the sides of my neck and stay there, gripping my throat lightly in his fingers as he works his tongue against mine.

“Be our third,” Jimin’s whisper sounded from my left, but I couldn’t process anything with Taehyung’s hand on my neck and tongue in my mouth.

Suddenly, Taehyung’s pushed off of me and Jimin slid into his place. “Say yes,” he continued and pressed his lips to mine.

His kiss is completely different than Taehyung’s, fervent but precise. He kisses me like he had been doing so all his life and knew every inch of my body.

Then I felt Taehyung push me off of the statue that I had been using as a crutch and slide into its place behind me. His hands gripped my hips and pulled me back against him, kissing my neck as Jimin continued to dominate my mouth.

“Say yes,” Taehyung echoed Jimin’s earlier plea.

Jimin removed his mouth from mine and smirked at my immediate sound of disappointment.

“Is that a yes, (y/n)?” he asks, raising a brow, his black eyes boring into mine.

I couldn’t speak. Taehyung’s thumbs were tracing patterns on my hips. Jimin trailed a hand up my torso to lightly land on my throat, finding my pulse-point.

This was too much.

On one hand, I knew they were still the boys, deep down. On the other, I had no fucking idea what that mirror had done to them.

But, fuck it – they were still my boys.

“It's a yes,” I said and reveled in Jimin’s beaming grin.

“We’re going to make you so happy you said yes,” came Taehyung’s voice behind me.

“Now, just one more thing,” Jimin reached for something behind his back.

Before I could even comprehend, he had the mirror in front of me. Taehyung’s hands framed my head, forcing it still.

Did Jimin have that thing this whole time? What the fuck?

My eyes were glued to my reflection in the mirror – it was smiling.

I was not.

And then I watched as my eyes turned black.

columba – (Latin) dove

[lonelyandlovelorn]

Starving

A/N: Hey, I just want to mention that while I am familiar with the feeling of being touch starved, I am by no means an expert in touch starvation. Marked as gender neutral, let me know if you think it isn’t.

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

Warning: nah

Word count: 2600

Pairing: Dean Winchester x touch starved reader

Summary: The internet called it touch starvation or skin hunger, but you had learned to live with it. 

Masterlist

You grew up hunting. Travelling constantly and leaving people behind left you a little lacking in the friend department, and without any siblings to help, you were familiar with loneliness. You knew your parents loved you, but like most hunters, they weren’t exactly affectionate. You gave up trying to make friends when you stopped somewhere by the time you were 13, realizing the futility. The only people you saw consistently growing up were the Winchester brothers. They were a little older than you, but they were nice enough when your families saw each other in passing. You didn’t really think you could count them in the friend category, though. 

Your parents died hunting, the way they expected. It hurt, but you were an adult when their times came, and while you grieved, you knew that had been inevitable. After a few days of moping, you pulled yourself up and kept hunting on your own. Sometimes you thought about your family, the hunting friends they had had when you were younger, but you never reached out to any of them. You were on your own for years. 

You were on a hunt, doing some digging into a missing person when you ran into them. You truly didn’t recognize them at first, seeing as they had grown to be giants, and the last time you had seen either, they were just getting out of the worst of their teen years. Now, they were two inhumanly attractive men, but both seemed to realize who you were as they slid into a booth with you. You were looking over some papers on the table when you felt it rattle. You looked up at them questioningly, before one of them said your name. That just confused you further as you quirked an eyebrow. The one with longer hair smiled at you. 

“You probably don’t remember us, it’s been about 20 years since we last saw you, but we heard another hunter was working the case.” Something about his voice and his features finally clicked for you as your eyes widened.

“Sam?” His smile got bigger before your eyes turned to his brother. “Dean?” 

“Hey Y/N,” Dean greeted, sending a smile your way. Your inner 13 year old was admittedly swooning, knowing the boy she had followed around like a lovesick puppy had grown into such a handsome man. You were surprised, to say the least, but made quick work of catching up with them. Of course, you weren’t a complete hermit. You knew some of the things they had done (and fixed). You all ordered food and spent the rest of the evening talking, sometimes about your lives, sometimes about the case. 

You worked it together, thrilled to know that someone would have your back if things went awry. When all was said and done, as you were mustering up the strength to say goodbye to the only people you had ever gotten to make connections with, they invited you for a drink in the bunker, since it was only about 45 minutes away. You accepted their offer, following Dean as he drove. When you joined them inside, you all plopped down in chairs, exhaustion seeping into you as you enjoyed the calm of the bunker. 

After a few drinks, they asked where you were headed back to. You shrugged and simply said, “Wherever the next case takes me.” Hearing that, they offered you a place to stay for the night. You insisted that you didn’t want to be a bother. 

“Y/N, this place has like 20 rooms in it, I promise you wouldn’t be imposing.” Dean flashed another charming smile in your direction and you couldn’t find it in you to refuse. A bed that wasn’t in some gross motel room sounded like heaven at that moment, so after a moment of hesitation, you conceded. 

You spent that night there. And then, with some persuading, the next night there. Then you were joining them on hunts. They you had your own room. And then you realized that you were living with the Winchester brothers, and you couldn’t find anything wrong with that. 

Now, you had learned sometime in early adulthood that you just didn’t really like being touched. You knew for some hunters, one night stands were a great way to relieve stress. Being a virginal 20-something, you went out to try it out after a rough hunt. You were naïve as to how it normally worked, but you figured it couldn’t be that hard. You found an attractive guy, flirted a little, and decided he would do. You were fully set on that decision until he touched your arm lightly. Your body jerked away, and you were confused as to why. The man, seemingly rejected, politely said goodbye and left you alone. 

Later that night, you tried googling what was wrong with you, only to find that the most likely thing was being touch starved. Great. On the plus side, no matter how much you wanted to touched, there was really no one around to touch you, so you didn’t have to worry about flinching away from anyone. 

This was a secret you kept to yourself. It didn’t seem like an important detail for anyone but you to know, as you had long since accepted the idea of dying with no one to call your own, given the way it usually went in this life. 

When you moved into the bunker, you didn’t think about it much. You had grown accustomed to ensuring there was space between you and anyone else. The first time it was noticed, Sam brushed your shoulder as you busied yourself in the kitchen, completely unaware of his presence. On reflex, your body jerked away from him as you turned to look at him. He held his hands up and left a distance between you. “Sorry, Y/N, I was just trying to get your attention.” He genuinely looked apologetic, and you didn’t know how to explain that it wasn’t his fault. 

After wracking your brain for an explanation, you simply stated, “I just don’t really like being touched.” He nodded, considerate enough not to say anything else before moving on to what he had originally tapped you for. 

Sam was careful to call for your attention when he needed, and you were incredibly grateful that he respected your boundaries without question. 

As time went on, you grew closer to the brothers. You and Sam were good friends, and after meeting Cas, you were fast friends as well. You weren’t sure what to call your relationship with Dean. You were close, like you were with Sam or Cas, but there was more to it. Neither of you had acted on anything, but you were sure he had flirted with you a few times. However, knowing your strange aversion to physical contact, you didn’t try pushing any further on that front. 

You were watching a movie with the boys. You didn’t even care enough to know which one, you just knew you were tired, and Dean was warm next to you. You managed to share a blanket with him without touching him, curling up against the back of the couch, and quickly drifting off. You woke up a few hours later, still on the couch. Some part of your brain freaked out at the feeling of a warm body next to you, skin touching yours. The tired part of your brain however, calmed that by pointing out that you knew exactly whose warm body it was. Lulled back into sleep by the comforting sensation of a coziness you hadn’t felt in years, your eyes shut once again.

When you woke up the next morning to find Dean still soundly asleep next to you, the alert part of your brain warned you that you should be freaking out. The thing was, you weren’t freaking out at all. In fact, even though you were fully conscious this time, some part of you wanted to snuggle back into him. You shook your head of that thought, slowly extricating yourself from Dean so as not to wake him. He didn’t seem to notice, shoving his face into the pillow you had been using. You smiled softly down at him before making your way to your room, where you got ready for the day. As you wandered into the kitchen, you nearly bumped directly into Sam. He greeted you before sending a curious glance your way. You looked back at him before asking why he was looking at you like that. 

“I just- you said you didn’t like touch a while back. I was just wondering about how your sleeping arrangement affected you.” He didn’t sound hurt or judgmental, he actually sounded a little concerned, like he was worried that his brother had made you uncomfortable. You sent him a small smile before it dropped from your face to be replaced with confusion.

“I don’t usually like to be touched. But when I woke up… I couldn’t find it in myself to mind.”  A slightly wistful expression crossed your face before your eyebrows scrunched up again and you looked back at Sam. “I’m as confused as you are, but don’t worry about it.” He gave you a hesitant nod before he continued on his way. You hummed softly to yourself as you got your breakfast, pausing for a second to take yourself in. You couldn’t remember feeling this content in years. 

Life moved on. You didn’t shy away from Dean as much and you got a little closer. After a couple of weeks of making no effort to avoid him, touching Dean felt like a drug. For the first time since you could remember, you initiated touch, resting your head on his shoulder, your hand on his arm, your legs in his lap. You were suddenly completely enthralled with the feeling of human contact, and you couldn’t make yourself stop. 

While you were in this state of euphoria, you didn’t notice Dean looking at you funny. While he might not come off as the most intelligent, Dean was a smart guy. His skills were usually in reading people, so when he saw in the beginning, the way you separated yourself out a little from other people, he simply accepted that and went with it, not wanting to push any limits you had. So Dean knew you weren’t fond of being touched, which was why he was super confused when you suddenly began initiating physical contact with him. He wasn’t about to complain, but he certainly had some questions. He had woken up alone on the couch that morning, but he knew you had fallen against him in your sleep. He figured when you woke up and realized, you tried to take yourself out of that situation without hurting his feelings. Why then, if that was the case, did that seem to be a catalyst for you reaching towards him any chance you got?

It was a testament to how long you had been staying in the bunker, the way you walked into the war room wearing a flannel that obviously wasn’t yours and pulled out a book before settling in to learn some more from the impressive library. The elder Winchester noticed fairly quickly that the shirt you were wearing had come from his closet, though he hadn’t noticed its disappearance. He side-eyed you for a moment before deciding that he needed to talk to you about whatever was going on. His feelings towards you aside, he was pretty sure that it had nothing to do with attraction. 

One night, as you sat in your bed wearing a shirt that had come from Dean’s room, you were reading a book when you heard a knock. You bookmarked your page while standing up and walking towards the door, pulling it open to greet Dean. You smiled at him and invited him inside. He glanced around your room before sitting in a chair that you had placed in the corner. You sat down on the edge of your bed, watching him in quiet worry. The voice in the back of your head was on worst case scenarios. This is it, this is where they tell you that you’re annoying and kick you out. You’re just in the way and they’re tired of having you around.

As these thoughts ran through your head, Dean was trying to figure out how to start. When he finally glanced up at you from where he had been staring at the floor, the corner of his mouth twitched up. “Is that my shirt?”

You glanced down, your cheeks heating at being caught. “I’m sorry, you can have it back, I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay,” he placated you. “I really don’t mind. Although, I guess that is kind of what I’m here to talk to you about.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly before finally letting out a breath and beginning, not looking at you. “So when you first moved in, I saw you had this thing with people being too close to you. You kept personal space between you and everyone else, which is totally fine. But then, you started sitting closer to me and reaching out to me and putting your hand on my arm, and I guess I just kind of want to know what’s going on? You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but I’m here to listen if you need.” With his speech delivered, Dean prepared himself to stand up and make his exit. 

“You’re right.” Your voice was soft, but in the silence, of course he heard it. He finally looked at you to see you fiddling with the hem of your shirt. His shirt. Whatever. You sighed before continuing. “I really don’t like being touched normally. Sometimes I flinch away, I did with Sam. When I looked it up, I think the best fit I could find was touch starved? Like, the idea of people touching me sounds great, I didn’t get a lot of it growing up and I think I missed out, but at the same time, I just really don’t enjoy it when people touch me.” You mulled over your words for a moment before speaking again. “But then… then I woke up on the couch with you, it just felt… nice. Like… I had finally been touched and it wasn’t scary. But after that, all I wanted was to feel that again. I just wanted to be around you and touch you and god I sound like freak.” You cut yourself off as you took in a harsh breath of air, staring at a point on the ground in front of you.

Dean watched all of this and hesitantly placed a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him as he pulled you into his chest for a hug, something you hadn’t realized you were missing out on until that moment. As you held onto him and released shaky breaths into his shirt, you could hear his words of reassurance. “You’re not a freak, and it’s not your fault. Hunting isolates all of us, you just got the worst of it.” He pulled back to look at you, relieved to see a smile gracing your face. “If you ever need this or anything else, you just let me know and I’ll be there.” You pressed your face back into him, grateful for how kind and understanding he was being. 

And if there was a little flutter in your stomach as he touched you that had nothing to do with touch and everything to do with him, you would deal with that when you had to.

Tag(s): @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce

[avengerscompound]

That Kid You Knew - 3

That Kid You Knew: An Iron Man Fanfic

Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕ @iron-man-bingo​ Square:  "Does Tony have a son?"

Warning:  Angsty stuff, mentions of sex, drugs, and pregnancy

Word Count:  3201

Pairing:  Tony Stark x F!Reader

Summary:  You had grown up knowing Tony Stark but as you’d gotten older you’d lost track of him.  When you see him at a party you have a drug-fueled one-night-stand with him.

10 years later he finds you again and has to come to terms with the fact he’s been a father all the time.

Chapter 3

“I want to try and make up the time with him quickly.  I know he’s got school to worry about.  But I can maybe come and get him after school a couple of days this week.  I’d like to shuffle things around and take him out on weekends too.  You’ve had him 9 years, I’d like to start getting to know him properly.”

Tony had gotten back from taking Owen out for pizza late.  While he’d been gone you had a long phone conversation with your mother about what happened.  To say she was unhappy about your lying was an understatement.  After Owen was ready for bed, Tony had gone and sat with him, chatting about things, almost like he was just telling him stories based on his time as Iron Man, until Owen fell asleep.

His parenting instinct maybe wasn’t perfect, but it was strong.  You couldn’t believe you had kept Owen from him.

When Owen was asleep, he turned his attention on you.

“Tony, I want to make this right.  You can spend as much time as you want with him.  I just - I’m not sure…”  You trailed off not sure how to tell him that you didn’t really know him very well and you’re not sure if you can trust him to be completely alone with your son.  Even letting Tony take him out tonight, despite the fact he had security with him, had filled you with anxiety.  He was a multimillionaire.  He could have taken him anywhere or done anything.  Despite the fact you’d basically grown up together, you barely knew him anymore.

“Oh my god!”  Tony groaned.  “Are you seriously about to make some excuse as to why I can’t see my son now?”  He tapped his left arm and leaned forward, looking you in the eyes.  “I am really, really trying to keep myself together today.  I think I’ve done pretty well considering.  But so help me…”

The anger and frustration dripped from his words.  It might have helped you build a case against him being alone with Owen, except you knew where he was coming from.  If you were in his shoes, you would have lost it a long time ago.

You put your hand on his.  “Tony,”  You said, quietly.  “You’re right.  I had my reasons, but I was wrong.  There is no way I can make up for what I’ve done.  I want you to spend as much time as you can with him.  I just… I don’t know you.”

Tony balled his hands into fists.  “What exactly are you accusing me of here?”

You took a deep breath to steady yourself.  “I’m trying to say, I haven’t dated anyone in ten years because I have trouble trusting strangers with my son.  And it makes me anxious thinking of him being alone with someone I barely know.”

Tony opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again, his teeth clenched, and his jaw twitching.  He tapped out a pattern on the table as he seemed to try and steady his emotions.  “You do know me.”

“I haven’t seen you for 10 years and when I last saw you, you were high.”  You counter.

“I’m Iron Man.”  He said.  “I fight to protect people.  And I’m his dad.  What the hell do you think I’m going to do to him?”

“And no father has ever hurt their child?  Please try to see this from my point of view.  Or look at it from the point of view of his dad.  Do you want me to just let him spend time alone with strange men?”  You implored.  “I’m not saying I’ll never trust you.  I just… I need time to feel like he’s safe when he’s with you.  That’s all.”

There was silence for the longest time.  Tony just sat opposite you at the table playing with his glasses.  Gradually, he relaxed and looked up at you.  “I get it.  It doesn’t have to be alone, to begin with.  You can come with us.  Or… or we can find someone to chaperone you’re happy with.  I have security people, if you have a babysitter it can be them.  I don’t know.  I can get Captain America if you like.  Do you trust Captain America?”

You let yourself relax a little and let out a soft breath.  The start of laughter but not actually laughter.  You reached over and took his hands in yours.  “Thank you for being so understanding.  I know this must be hard for you.  Honestly, you’re taking it better than my mom did.”

Tony let out a laugh and stifled it quickly as he pulled his hands away and ran them through his hair.  “I just - I can’t believe this is happening.  I don’t even know how I’m supposed to feel about all of this.  Should I be excited?  Scared?  Angry?  I feel like I’m in emotional overload and normally when that happens I shut people out but I know if I do that, I lose him before I even got him in the first place.”

You leaned back and nodded.  “I know what you mean.  I don’t know what I was expecting either.  I had always just assumed you’d tell me that it had nothing to do with you.”

Tony shook his head.  “He’s my son.”  He said.  “Which brings me to another thing.  You can’t live here.  He’s my son.  I’m going to give you back pay for child support.  We can work out the number later.  But you need to use it to move somewhere more secure.  When this gets out, this is not going to be safe for him.”

You blinked at him a few times.  “You don’t need to give me any money.”

“He’s my son,”  Tony repeated.  There was a pain in the words this time.  Like he didn’t think he was going to be enough for him.

You took his hand and nodded again.  “I know.”

Over the course of the next two months Tony seemed to devote all this time to creating a relationship with Owen and proving to you he could be trusted.  Certainly, for a man who ran a billion-dollar company and acted as a superhero, he wasn’t spending much time doing either.  He was picking him up from school three days a week and taking him out.  He was coming by both on Saturdays and Sundays and either just hanging out at your place or taking him on outings.  They did museums and zoos and movies and bands.  A couple of times he even went with you to look at houses.  Sometimes you went with them.  Sometimes it was an agreed-upon chaperone.  If they went out it was always a team of at least two security.

He and Owen just clicked too.  Owen was in so many ways, so much like his father.  He was smart and sarcastic and curious.  Tony seemed to take to the whole parenting thing pretty naturally too.  He was overcompensating for the missing time and he second-guessed himself a lot, but in those moments when they both just relaxed and talked tech or science or one of what seemed to be becoming a long list of things they were both passionate about, it was like he had always been Owen’s dad.  Tony would listen to Owen like everything he had to say was the most interesting thing in the world.

In those moments when you saw them like that you would start going over what might have been different if you had just told him.  He was so different back then.  Railing against his own father who had died before he’d ever been accepted by him.  He definitely wouldn’t have believed you.  He might even have accused you of getting pregnant on purpose for the money.  Maybe it might have been okay in the end.  Maybe you could have moved to LA and he could have been part of Owen’s life.  Maybe you could have shared custody.  He could have had him overnight and every second weekend.  You wouldn’t have had to do this alone.  You might have actually had time to have your own life and maybe even date.  Owen would have had someone else he knew would be there for him.  Tony would have had that exciting moment when he’d been called ‘dada’.

Not that everything was going smoothly and stress-free.  Dealing with lawyers even at this early stage and with neither of you particularly arguing anything wasn’t exactly easy.  You hated to think what it would be like if Tony she’d you for custody.  You hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

His friends seemed to have a mixed reaction to you.  From what Owen had said they’d all gone out of their way to make sure he felt at home there.  From what Tony had said there had been bets made about whether or not he had some secret kid he didn’t know about.  Most of them were at least polite if they ever saw you.  Rhodey had come and told you that while he wasn’t sure you should have kept the secret, he got it and maybe Tony finding out now was better.  He was ready now.  Back then he as a mess.  Clint Barton was openly hostile.  Tony said it was because he had kids.  You supposed you understood that.

That wasn’t the worst bit though.  The worst bit was the press.

It was only one outing there was speculation on the internet.  “Does Tony Stark have a son?”  They couldn’t get any actual confirmation that it was true though. Thankfully, the people who knew were smart enough to not talk to the press and Tony wasn’t actually listed on the birth certificate.  Even still they decided after two weeks of spotting the two of them together that he must be his son.   After that, it was everywhere.  Paparazzi began stalking him, yelling out to him in the street to get him to admit it.  They camped outside your house and would approach Owen.  Tony put security at your place too, but you could tell the fact you still lived there was causing him a great deal of anxiety.

At the two month mark, Tony had organized a trip for the two of you to the Natural History Museum after it had closed.  Owen was extremely excited to get what he was calling the ‘A Night at the museum tour’.  He ran through the halls of taxidermied animals, his feet echoing through the place as you and Tony strolled along behind him.

None of this stuff was particularly Tony’s expertise but you could see him sharing in the excitement whenever Owen called him over to look at something.

“We need to work out what we’re going to do from here, don’t you think?”  Tony asked as you trailed along after Owen.  “I really want him to start doing sleepovers.  I mean… I think it’s time, don’t you?  But there’s the Avengers stuff.  I keep thinking that the first time I have him over something big will happen and I’ll get called out and then what?”

You went to answer but Owen excitedly called you over to look at the family of elephants.  “Are these African or Asian?”  Tony asked.

“African.  You can tell by the ears.”  Owen answered.

He took off again and you chuckled and followed after at the slow pace you had been walking before.  “That’s a good idea.  I - the stuff before - about the chaperone.  I trust you.”

“Good. That’s good.”  He said.  “I don’t want to go through the courts for custody.  I want to just work it out with you.  This is hard enough as it is.”

“I’m not against you, Tony.  I know you don’t trust me.  You don’t have any reason to trust me.  But I promise I want to give you guys what I can.”

“I thought to begin with he could come and visit every second weekend,”  Tony said, thrusting his hands in his pockets.  “But… Okay so hear me out.  I think until you find a new place you should move into the tower.  The press are assholes.  It’ll be safer for you both there.”

“Tony, I don’t know…”  You said.

“Look, I know it’s gonna be weird us living in the same building.  But it’s not like we’d be living in the same apartment.  You’d have your own place.  There are actual apartments there.  I can have a car take you to and from work and one to take Owen to and from school.”  He said.  “Plus it would give you a chance to see what it’s like for me day-to-day.  And I’ll be able to see him a little more regularly.”

You took a deep breath and watch as Owen stopped to look at the Bison.  “Alright.  I want to keep him safe and you’re right.  But it’s not forever, Tony.  Just until I find something more suitable.”

He smiled and seemed to relax.  “Great.  Fantastic.  This will be great.”

The move into the Avengers Tower happened really quickly.  Within a week your apartment was empty and things were on their way to being unpacked in the new place.  It wasn’t as big a place as your old one but the idea was it would be temporary.  You and Owen were looking for a house, and with the money from Tony, it was going to be a lot nicer than either place.

Living in the tower brought with it a lot of benefits though.  The buildings AI was amazing.  She ordered in your regular groceries as you ran out of them.  She would turn lights on and off as you need them.  Lock and unlock doors.  She knew where Tony was all the time.  You started to wonder if you could go back to not having her around.

The building had a gym and a pool.  There was a thing called the party deck where the Avengers’ would hang out and they’d invite you and Owen up.  The longer you were there the more they settled into having you around and the resentment any of them felt for hurting their friend seemed to dissipate.  Especially as Tony slipped deeper and deeper in his role of father.

You started getting along better with Tony too.  Eventually, it got to the point that it had felt like there had been no missing time between the two of you.  He’d show up at the apartment and you’d all eat together and he’d help Owen with his homework, or they’d do some other little project together.  Then he’d tell him watered down Iron Man stories to him at bedtime.  It wasn’t every night, but it was most nights.

There was the whole ‘Avenging’ thing that would get in the way, and it was nerve-wracking.  Being this close to it you hadn’t considered out stressful it would be to have someone you were so connected to out risking their life.  You could see it was affecting Owen too.  He was always so relieved and almost clung to Tony when he got back.

Finding a place was difficult though.  Or maybe you lacked the motivation.  Whatever the case you ended up being there for months building a comfortable routine with Tony.

“What are you guys feeling for dinner?”  He asked one Friday afternoon as Owen let him in.  “You want to order in?  Or are you cooking?”

“Ordering in sounds good.  Work was a killer.”  You said, coming out of the kitchen to greet him.

“Can we get burgers?”  Owen asked.

Tony ruffled his hair and handed him his phone.  “You know the drill.”  He said before collapsing on the couch.

“You two and burgers.”  You said sitting down beside Tony.  “How much do you have them when I’m not around?”

Tony put his finger to his lips.  “Shh…”

Owen cracked up laughing.  “Hardly any, mom.”  He joked as he tapped around on Tony’s phone.  “Alright.  Ordered something for everyone, dad.”

Tony and your heads snapped up.  You looked at each other and then at him.  Tony’s jaw dropped open in shock.

Owen looked down at his shoes and furrowed his brow.  “Should I not have called you that?  I can call you Tony.  Sorry.”

Tony almost tripped he jumped up so quickly.  He pulled Owen into a tight hug.  “No.  No, no, no.”  He soothed.  “I was just surprised.  But… good.  It’s a good surprise.  You’ve never called me that before.”  He crouched down and looked Owen in the eye.  “I am your dad and I’d love if you called me that.”

Owen nodded his head.  “Okay.  ‘Cause that’s what I want to call you.”

That night after Owen was in bed, Tony came down and sat down next to you, holding a tumbler of Scotch a little too tightly.

You smiled at him and patted his leg.  “You’re a dad now.”

He returned the smile almost hesitantly at first until he was beaming at you.  “I know.”  He said, with a slight shake in his voice.  “I hoped that one day he might call me that.  I wasn’t getting my hopes too high because of how long I’ve not been part of his life.  But I hoped.  I had no idea it would feel so good and so scary when he did it though.”

You tried to hold it together as he spoke, but once again it hit you, how much you stole from them.

You burst into tears and Tony put his drink down and wrapped you in his arms.  “Hey, now.  I’m not planning on taking him from you.”  He said.

You shook your head, wiping your tears on his t-shirt.  “It’s not that.  I’m so sorry.  I’m so sorry I kept him from you.”

“We can’t keep going over that,”  Tony said.  “It happened.  You can’t keep beating yourself up over it.”

“You should have been a daddy though.  You should have got to hear him say dada when he was learning to talk.”  You sobbed.

He tilted your face up to his.  “I know.  It sucks.  It sucks that I missed that.  But he just called me dad.  This is a good day.”

You nodded a little pathetically and he wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs as he cradled you jaw.  You looked up into the brown of his eyes and you saw it.  His eyes flicked to your lips.  You felt your breath hitch and your eyes flicked to his.  They were parted just a little, almost inviting you in.  You looked back into his eyes and he ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Have you really not been with anyone since me?”  He asked, his voice almost a soft growl.

You shook your head, not sure what exactly was happening right now.  Not sure if anything should happen right now.  It did though.  It felt like time stopped.  Your heart was beating in your ears and you couldn’t stop looking at his lips as they came closer and closer.  His breath tickled your skin and you closed your eyes.

// NEXT

[dontdietwd]

Don’t Die, day 11

It all happened too fast.

As I fled from the house through the kitchen door, it was all a blur of running and noise, Daryl and Merle’s heavy, hurried steps right on my heels and the loud groans and growls from the two dead people running after us. Daryl ran faster than me and guided us around my house to reach his. As we reached the porch, I looked back and saw Bobbi-Jo’s dead, stumbling but surprisingly agile body turning the corner, the half-face she still had with perfect makeup, but her eyes void of any life.

We’d entered the Dixon’s house, locked all the doors, and had been there ever since. The house had three entrances; the front door, the kitchen door to the side, which led to another small porch, and the basement hatch door, that had always been locked and blocked by an old wardrobe and had never been a viable way in and out. The kitchen door was now blocked by an old and very heavy dresser, cardboard blocking the glass view. The front door, the only one that was left unblocked, was constantly guarded.

If I had to recollect and tell exactly who things went, I wouldn’t be able to. I don’t know if it was the electricity, the phone signal or the internet that went down first. I don’t remember if we searched through the house looking for things that could be useful before or after we saw dozens of dead people walking around the street, Bobbi-Jo among them. The battery radio still worked, but no useful information came out of it.

It was a virus. It was a parasite. It was bacteria. The cure was known. No, that cure didn’t work. It was the end of the world. Don’t let yourself get bit by one of them. That’s how you die and then turn. We will find the cure; we’ve got the best people working on it. Don’t get bit until then. The CDCs all over the country were working on it. Go to Atlanta. Go to Atlanta. There’s a center, food, and shelter until the cure is found. It’s safe. Don’t get bit and go to Atlanta.

“Yeah, but that ain’t true, is it?” Merle dragged in the same old, drunken voice, a bottle of beer in hand, his back to the arm of the couch, a leg resting along with it. “Sons of bitches don’t know nothin’.”

“What are you on about?” Daryl asked from his watch by the window.

“D wasn’t bit, was he now?”

“Nope,” I answered from the other couch where I was lying. “Died from a stab in the neck. Only one who bit him was me.”

“What?” Merle questioned, frowning.

“I bit him, you don’t remember that?” I sat up, bare feet resting on the worn out, dusty mat. “The night before. And I sure as hell ain’t one of those fuckin’ dead things”, I finished as I got up, leaning over to reach for a pack of cigarettes from the coffee table. “So ya right, son of bitches know nothing.”

“We don’t know he wasn’t bit,” Daryl said looking at me as I approached him putting one cigarette between my lips and handing him the pack. “He coulda been. Damn fucker was so hammered all the time, coulda forget it happened.”

“Or that.” I agreed.

Daryl threw the pack at Merle after he took a cigarette for himself and we went silent again like we were most part of the time when Daryl and Merle weren’t fighting, foul-mouthed and disagreeing on everything. I hadn’t slept more than a few minutes but felt alert anyway, I’d never needed many hours asleep to feel fine. What worried me now was that, after ten days in that house, their pantry had been emptied while we just sat around, ate, argued and fought and waited for something to happen. I worried that, after so long, nothing was actually going to change. Not if we didn’t take action, any kind of action.

“I’m going home.” Hours later I broke the silence.

“You insane?” Merle asked. “Ya can’t go back there. The street’s taken by those things. Your house’s taken.”

“You gonna end up like ‘em.” Daryl completed.

“Good to see you guys agreeing on something.” I crossed her arms and glared at them. “I’m gonna take things. Food, clothes, first aid kit, weapons. Lots of knives in the kitchen, a pistol in Bobbi-Jo’s bedroom. A rifle on the wall that might still work if we find ammo. Things on the fridge might still be good. Gonna pack all I can, you should too if we’re gonna make it to Atlanta.”

“I ain’t goin’ to no fuckin’ Atlanta.” Merle sat up, both feet now on the rug. “Won’t be nothin’ there. Shelter and food for free to everyone? Bullshit. Rich people, is all.”

“So you gonna stay here?” I opened my arms to gesture around the living room. “And do what? Starve to death? Thirst yourself dry? You don’t even wanna go next door for supplies, how ya gonna get food?”

He didn’t answer, only crossed his arms, shaking his head, a stubborn smirk still on his lips. Big fucking child.

“We know how to kill ‘em.” Daryl said still from his position by the window. “Just gotta stab in the brain and don’t let ‘em come close.”

“I got two good hunting knives there, one in Owen, the other in D. Should get ‘em back too.”

We agreed but said nothing, just moved at the same time as if agreed. Only wondered about that later. Now we just moved to the kitchen table where we had previously set out a sort of kitchen knives. Daryl grabbed two of them as well as his crossbow. I chose a big butcher knife and two smaller ones and moved to the door sheathing them into my waistband being followed by Daryl.

“Ok, gotta stay together. Don’t go wandering alone.” I told him.

“I’ll have your back while you take the things.” He agreed and we gave each other a sharp nod.

Daryl pulled the door open and we crossed the threshold. The noise of the door and our steps attracted the attention of two dead people who were closest to the house, by the sidewalk. They turned their heads in slow motion, but as their dead eyes found the two living people on the porch, it was like their bodies came to life, groaning excitedly and taking stumbling but fast steps in their direction.

“Noise attracts them.” Daryl stated what I was thinking a moment before shooting an arrow right into the eye of the male one. We went down the steps and on the bottom Daryl stopped to reload the crossbow, hands working on it but head raised and eyes looking around attentively. The second dead, a female, was closer to me now. “In the brain!” Daryl reminded me.

I walked to the corpse as she walked to me and felt my heart accelerate. Damn, it really was a fuckin walking corpse, like for real, the sci-fi movies had really happened, who’d think that? But I got over that because no time to think right now or it’d bite me. I remembered how soft and easy it had been to stick the knife into D’s eye, so that’s what I went for before it could even get close enough to me. Blood splattered on me as the eyeball popped. Disgusted, all I thought then was that if this was how one got infected with whatever that was, I was screwed. But then again, we’d all touched the dead’s blood ten days ago and hadn’t got sick, so I didn’t really know what to think. Maybe it really was just bites.

“Let’s go.” I put the thought aside for now and we ran across the yard towards my house. There was one more there and Daryl’s arrow reached it easily. As we got to the steps, I heard a groan and looked back. It was Bobbi-Jo, or what used to be her. I stared at her as her corpse started coming to me. After ten days of her death, her figure was now something completely different. Her exposed flesh had started decaying; her eyes seemed even whiter than before, what was left of the skin of her face a nauseating shade of gray. Her eye makeup had oozed down her cheek.

“Sam!” Daryl’s voice called from the porch. I didn’t remember having ever heard him say my name before, I hadn’t even been sure if he knew it.

“Go, I got her.” I told him and heard his steps entering the house only a moment later like he had paused to decide and then moved. I let Bobbi-Jo approach, less agile than she had been days before, but still quick. When she was close enough, I grabbed her by the neck, keeping her dead, moaning form away from me at arm’s length. My heartbeat got even faster, I could feel in my temple, and my throat suddenly tightening. Bobbi was small, the same size as me, but had always been thinner as an effect of too many drugs.

In the moment I looked into Bobbi-Jo’s dead eyes, I remembered years of having her present in my life. The moment I had met her, my dad bringing her to our house and introducing her as his girlfriend. I remember thinking how could she be my dad’s girlfriend if she looked to be my own age. Later, I found out Bobbi-Jo was only seven years older than me. I remembered us moving from Atlanta to Savannah. I hadn’t wanted to. Dad didn’t really want to either, but Bobbi-Jo had insisted. That’s when they started living together, and it was hell on earth. We fought all the time when dad wasn’t home, and in the beginning Bobbi-Jo would pretend to be the victim when he arrived, but after a while she didn’t even do that anymore. I hated her. I hated her with all my might, I hated her for all the horrible things she told me, for the physical fights, for making dad father suffer, for cheating on him, for spending all the money he had gathered from years of hard work in a carpentry. For pretending in front of friends and family that she was suffering when he was dying from cancer. For getting herself a new boyfriend less than a month after he died. I hated having had to stay in the house, hated having Bobbi-Jo still live there. We each owned half of it, neither wanted to leave it to the other.

“Yeah, you bitch?” I snarled at her. “How’d ya like that? All the trouble ya had and that’s how ya die. Hope it was as painful as his death.” I raised the knife, eyes burning with all the remaining anger I carried with me all this time, “That’s for my dad!”

The knife entered her left eye and I held it in place for a long moment. The knot in my throat tightened painfully, the rage in my eyes being instantly replaced by tears. As I pulled he knife out, a wet noise following a splash of stinky blood, Bobbi-Jo’s body fell to the ground. With a sob, I felt no satisfaction; it just didn’t feel like it was enough. Leaning over, I stabbed a few more times, into her other eye and even into the hard bone of her temple and forehead, and I was probably groaning in anger at each stab because my throat complained quite a bit after. Finally, I stopped and straightened up, breathing hard, staring down at the disfigured head. The hand holding the knife was shaking, tears escaping my eyes.

When I turned, unable to look at the mass of flesh on my feet any longer, I saw Daryl standing under the doorframe, eyes watching me carefully, head turned downwards, crossbow hanging on his side.

“It’s clear.” he said quietly when I just looked at him, not moving or saying anything. “Was just one of ‘em inside.”

Without a word, I climbed the four steps towards the door, but Daryl didn’t move. I stopped on the step below him and looked up, eyebrows raised in question.

“You ok?” he murmured.

“Stop asking me that.”

I’m sure my voice sounded stronger than I felt at the moment. I felt my insides trembling, it that makes sense, my shoulder muscles so tense they’d stop a knife. I took a step up and passed by Daryl, our shoulders touching briefly. Stopping just by the front door, I looked around. It had been days, the house and the bodies smelled horrible, putridly, as if the air was solid. I didn’t look at the corpses for long. Daryl had already closed the kitchen door, so the only way in and out was through the front. He was taking his arrow out of the eye of the random guy Bobbi-Jo had brought home that night. I felt bile in my throat again at the smell of the living room of the house I had called home for so many years. It didn’t feel like it anymore.

“Go, I’ll keep watch.” He said carefully while he cleaned the tip of an arrow on the fabric of the couch.

It didn’t take long for me to go through the whole house. I emptied the cabinet of groceries into a backpack, there were several cans there, clothes I thought could be functional into a handbag – clean underwear! I’d been handwashing as reusing the same panties for days now! The two different pairs of boots I had and one I took from Bobbi-Jo. Hers were yellow and I hated it, but whatever. The carton of Morley packs, half a bottle of whiskey. That was for the boys. The first aid kit from under the bathroom sink. A couple of soap bars, toothbrush and toothpaste. I took the gun, checking it was loaded, two boxes of bullets from Bobbi-Jo’s wardrobe, knives from the kitchen, the rifle from the wall, and that was it.

“Hey,” Daryl stopped touching a finger softly on my shoulder as I was heading to the door carrying all the bags by myself, without asking for help. I stopped in a halt and looked up at him, a frown on my face. I was too tense and willing to get the hell out of that house for good to be expecting a touch, even the slighted ones, right now. “Thought ya’d want this.”

He handed me a picture he’d taken from a frame on the living room wall. I saw the back of it first, a sloppy handwriting that said “Jack and Sam at Chastain Park, spring 1989”. Turning it around, I saw myself as a nine-year-old sitting on top of a slide, smiling widely, blonde hair shining under the sun. Standing by my side, smiling awkwardly at the camera, was my dad, sandy hair graying on the sides, unkempt stubble, dark brown eyes lit up with contentment.

My throat tightened once again and I felt an uncomfortable prickle in my eyes, and I just nodded without looking up at Daryl. I knew that picture, of course, and it’d been on the wall for years, but I never looked at it. It was painful. I folded the picture carefully twice and reached around to my back jeans pocket, tucking it in. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at Daryl for just a second before looking out the door once again.

“Let’s go.”

We both stopped on the steps, though, Daryl once again higher than me, when we saw Merle ride his bike out of the garage of their house. He rode not once looking back, speeding away with a loud rumble, dead corpses trying to rush after it.

“Son of a bitch!” Daryl shouted as he rushed past me down the steps. She ran after him, crossing the yard to his porch and into the house, slowed down by the bags. When I entered he was rushing over the other rooms of his house. I dropped the bags by the front door before going looking for him.

“Fuckin’ bastard!” He was yelling when we met again on the corridor.

“He just left?!”

“You saw him leave, didn’t ya?” he answered angrily.

I raised her hands lifting my eyebrows in affront. Daryl just rushed past me mumbling “fuck” and I followed him into Merle’s bedroom.

“His stuff still here.” he noticed as I stood by the door.

“He’ll come back,” I said, arms crossed. “he wouldn’t leave you in this –”

“- -the hell he wouldn’t!” Daryl raised his voice again. “Is wha’ Merle do, he leaves. Not the first time.” His voice was bitter as he strode past me. When I reached the living room, having followed him one more time, Daryl was picking up one of the bags from the floor. “Let’s just go.”

“What if he comes back?” I asked with my arms still crossed.

“Yeah, maybe in a couple of months.” Daryl snorted out.

“C’mon Daryl, we don’t know that.”

“You know nothing ‘bout Merle.” he snarled turning to me, a backpack over one shoulder. “He ain’t coming back!”

“Daryl, listen, he’s just left, you sure you don’t want to wait at least a bit?”

“Why do you care if he come back anyway?”

“I don’t, really, but I know that if we leave now you might not find your brother again.” I uncrossed my arms and took a couple of steps towards him, speaking calmly. “We don’t know what’s gonna happen, how things are out there… What if you don’t see him again? What if you don’t see him again just ‘cause you couldn’t wait a few hours?”

Daryl looked from me to the door and back again, unsure, biting the skin of his lower lip.

“It’s past three, anyway,” I kept talking, knowing he was listening now “it’ll get dark soon; I don’t think we should travel at night. If not for Merle let’s at least just wait ‘til morning ‘cause it might be safer.”

Daryl stared at me, worry creasing his forehead, still biting his lip. I’d seen him do that before, anytime he was lost in thought, or worried, or unsure. He nodded sharply once after a moment and dropped the bag to the ground again, then moved away from me and deeper into the house. In the hallway leading to his bedroom, he said: “You watch over, I’ll take a nap.”

He crossed the hall with heavy steps and stormed into the room and I expected the door to be slammed closed, but he didn’t act that childishly. It was more like Merle to do that, even though he was the oldest. I think he was about ten years older than Daryl, but I’ve never known for certain. And he wasn’t here now. It was weird not having Merle there, because his presence was always known. Even if he was in his bedroom sleeping we could hear him snoring loudly and speaking on his sleep. He never slept quietly, I wonder how he even got any rest. Maybe that’s why he did all the drugs, to let go of whatever it was he had in his head.

Merle was a case to be studied. I knew very little about him. I’d been living next-door to the Dixons for eighteen years, and for a while, it was three of them; the father and the two sons. I barely saw the father over the years, he was always inside and when I did see him occasionally outside he was drunk and slurring racial insults at neighbors or inappropriate things at Bobby-Jo or myself, which turned into misogynistic ones when neither of us gave him any attention. He had died two or three years ago, I think, from something on his liver. Then it was just the two brothers. Merle had been gone from the house for long periods of time and back three of four times since I’d been there. At least one of them I knew he’d gone away with the army, I’m not sure if he went to a war or something, but in total Daryl was alone at the house for a few years. Their relation was… Delicate, let’s say. I always saw them together at the house and over the years even out throughout the city, so they seemed t be friends, but they fought a lot, never agreed on anything and Merle often talked him down. On those 10 days, I’d been cooped up in the house with them made this quite clear. I hated to hear it, I wanted to tell Merle to just shut the fuck up, but hey, who was I go meddle? I didn’t really know them; I didn’t know what was behind all that. So when it was too much I just left and locked myself in their spare bedroom, the one I’d been using, and stayed in there for a few hours.

Maybe Daryl was right. Maybe Merle had gone for good, left us, and was not coming back. Is shouldn’t bother me. It didn’t. It didn’t bother me. I couldn’t care less. What would I be missing without Merle traveling with us tomorrow morning? Not a thing. It would be better to be just with Daryl; I could deal with Daryl. He was not bad. He even spoke gently and carefully to me, something I’d never expected, something guys didn’t usually do. I would be fine, I didn’t care.

Except that I fucking did. I groaned in anger at myself and I observed the street through the window, shaking my head and taking a pull off my cigarette. I fucking cared, I wished Merle would come back. He was still Merle, still the person who verbally harassed me for years, but on those ten days in his house something had changed and I couldn’t pinpoint it, but I knew it had. He wasn’t harassing me anymore, except for a few jokes about how I should cook for them and maybe warm up their bed at night – Daryl punched him hard on the shoulder for that one and Merle laughed, even as he held his arm because that strong punch had to hurt. He was behaving not in a good manner, but in a manner I could accept. And he had come to my rescue that night, there was that. I wished he’d come back, mostly for Daryl, but also because I knew things must be dangerous out there. There was much more than this fucking neighborhood and Chatham, and if the world was ending things were not pretty out there.

But it was settled, in the morning Daryl and I were gonna go, leave this house and hit the road to Atlanta, with or without Merle. I moved from the window to the kitchen, where I lit a single candle and tried making some food. I didn’t even know what, maybe one of the last packs of powdered soup. I took a clean pan from the drying rack, placed it under the tap and opened it. It couched and gurgled and a little brown water came out, but then just air. No water. Great… I placed the pan inside the sink, rested my hands there and lowered my head. Yeah, it really was time to go.

I blew the candle off and returned to my spot by the window. We were going to hit the road. Leave our houses. I was going to leave my house and God knows when I’d be back. Of if I’d ever be back. The house I’d been living at for 18 years and had lived good moments, but also the worst of my life. I wasn’t sorry I’d be gone. I kind of wished I’d never come back. I wished life would change so drastically I’d never even had the chance to do so. Never have to decide to come back or not.

What was this weird thing I was feeling? I wasn’t bad, but shouldn’t it be bad? Shouldn’t I be dreading whatever the fuck was happening? The world seemed to be ending in rising corpses and nothing would ever be the same, why wasn’t I that scared? I mean, of course, I was scared, but in a strange way…. In a way that good things also scare us. Does that make sense? No, it doesn’t, I know it doesn’t. But I was… And I shocked myself when I found the correct word for it, even then, standing by that window as I saw a group of three dead walking up the field at the end of the road: excited. And now I judged myself for feeling it. What kind of horrible person feels that when the world is ending and so many people are dying and suffering? I hated myself for it.

I also thought of my father. I wished he had lived to go through it with me, he was always so supportive, always trying to make me look at the good side to everything, such a gentle soul. Yeah, but thinking about it made me see he was not fit for this new life, he would never be able to kill a corpse even if it was trying to kill him. No, he was too good. All of this would break his heart. And now I was crying, thinking about dad.

“Hey, we got no water,” Daryl’s voice brought me back from where my mind was to the Dixon’s dark living room. I looked back at him, who had only now figured where I was. I had lit no candles and there was just a gap in the curtain letting a little light in. Seeing me, he continued, “jus’ a warnin’ so ya have no surprise in here”, he pointed over his shoulder in the direction of the bathroom.

“Yeah,” my voice came out a little weak and hoarse. “I tried to cook something and the water was out. We got one more can of soup… Then jus’ things I bought from home.”

I turned to the window again trying hard and failing not to think of what he meant about a surprise in there, and the room was quiet again. I guessed he’d moved away again. There were six dead people roaming the street now. Their moans and crickets and cicadas singing were the soundtracks of the night.

“You okay?”

I jumped a little. His voice was closer than I expected Daryl to be. Damn, the man could be silent if he wanted to. Hunting instincts.

“Sorry,” he smirked

“Jesus, Daryl” I turned away from him again. “I’m fine. Told ya not to ask me that.”

“Is jus’…” he shrugged. “Voice’s weird. You been cryin’?”

I crossed her arms over her chest, still looking out. He didn’t have to know that. It was personal. He wouldn’t understand what I was feeling now, not even I understood. Excited that the world was ending, only sad my daddy wasn’t here to see it?  Forget it.

“No,” I told him simply.

“Alright,” he stated and moved away from me in an instant. I followed him with my eyes, turning around a little. Damn, did he sound relieved that I didn’t share! Men and their troubles with feelings and stuff.

Who am I kidding, I have trouble with feelings and stuff as well.

But a little tiny part of me was a little disappointed that he didn’t insist? Yep, it definitely was.

“Did ya eat?” he asked already from the kitchen.

“No. Not hungry, you go ahead.” I responded mechanically, trying to see him in the dark, unsuccessfully. In a minute he was back, the cold can of soup in hand, half of its content in a bowl that he handed me. I didn’t take it, arms still crossed.

“Eat,” he said firmly, motioning the bowl again.

Sighing and rolling her eyes away from him, I took the bowl and started eating. That was not one of the good soups, but whatever. We ate silently, both standing looking out.

“There’s Mr. Walker from 4th street.” Daryl said around a mouthful of soup, pointing to the dead chubby, old man wearing suspenders.

“Dead man Walker.” I said in a dead serious voice.

He chuckled for a moment but caught himself and lowered his head to his can of soup quickly, going silent again. I held in a smile. This rough man could be cute sometimes and wasn’t even aware of that. Full of surprises, that guy. He’d never spoken to me before in those eighteen years but then he goes to the diner to warn me and get to my house to help and if hosting me here for 10 days like it’s all normal. I really didn’t understand.

“Why did you help me?” I asked suddenly after finishing my half soup.

“Wha’?”

“That day, with D.” I turned a little more to him after resting the empty bowl on the window sill. “You went all the way to the diner to warn me about him. Why did ya do that?”

He shrugged, not looking at me, “Was in the area.”

“Seriously, Daryl.”

He kept looking out, his expression closing up, and was silent for a moment. I just waited, staring up at him.

“Couldn’t hear him say what he’d do to ya and do nothin’.”

“Alright. Okay, you warned me, I told you I could take care of myself, but then you showed up there and helped me, and stick around and helped with the… Walker things, and then took me in here, and I’ve been here for days. It’s ‘bout all that I’m asking. Why you helping me?”

“Would you rather I didn’t?” he turned his head to me, annoyance clear in his voice.

“Oh, c’mon Daryl!” I turned away, arms up in annoyance for a moment Why couldn’t he just answer me?

“’Cause you needed, is why!” he cried, getting pissed. It was easy to piss him off. “You our neighbor twenty fuckin’ years, don’t gotta be best buddies with someone to help.”

“Well, you’re right we ain’t best buddies, but we were never even a little bit. We ain’t never talked to each other, and now I’m here practically living in your house.”

“It’s the fuckin’ Walker apocalypse out there!” Daryl yelled angrily pointing out the window. “What a fuckin’ cold-blooded motherfucker ya take me for? Ya thought I’d let the men rape and torture you, and then leave you to die alone eaten by the dead?” he snarled and took a step further, standing very close to me. I looked up at him, towering at least ten inches above me, but I didn’t flinch or blink. Somehow I knew he was not a threat. “That the kinda man ya take me for?”

I swallowed hard, my eyes locked with his, and his got a little self-aware after a second, as if he realized just how close to each other we were standing now. We’d never been close like this, even living in close quarters. I could pay attention to details on him that I never registered before. His stubble was nearly blonde, or maybe it was starting to grow grey, just how freaking blue his eyes were and the mole he had just above the left corner of his lip. Was he maybe noticing these detailed in my face too? I still had a faint bluish mark from that old slap, and my eyes probably looked tired now. No self-care with my face skin for many days now, it must look dry. Damn, I was starting to get self-conscious by him looking at me like that.

I should say something. Daryl hadn’t moved after his question, so maybe it hadn’t been rhetorical. I soundlessly cleared my throat of the lump that had formed there before saying in a very low voice, “Torture?”

Daryl nodded slowly, his jaws clenching tightly. “Yeah.”

And yet, he didn’t move.

“Guess I never thanked you.” I whispered.

That made him lower his eyes and turn again to the window, opening space between us once again. “‘S nothin’,” he mumbled tightly.

“You helped me avoid rape and torture. Guess that’s something.”

Before moving away from him, feeling too awkward and uncomfortable being so close, I touched his bicep quickly, squeezing it lightly before letting go.

[etastra]

wanted dynamics !

under the cut are some dynamics i’d like for each of the 13 ! some are romantic, some antagonistic, some platonic, some a combo, some can turn platonic/romantic, etc.

jiwon

someone that is his go to for destressing - and no, not through sex, but through massages & a regular self-care day/night. jiwon often ignores his cosmicness til it feels like his skin is fit to burst, and he always remembers his humanity through something grounding like that.

first love !! jiwon’s first love was in middle school, a year or so after he reached awareness, and they were the first person who he told All about the stars and about his super cool memories/powers. it’s childish and sweet and innocent, and it could be the same, could be completely new, could be nothing more than fond childhood memories

follower ? brother ? neither ? give jiwon someone who actually knows what he is. not who but what, as in someone who still worships the 13 like the old gods they are, or who grew up hearing stories about the 13. give jiwon someone who Knows, and someone he can be himself around, someone he can ask for help in finding his kin

youngsoo

artist rivals !! youngsoo is the epitome of snobby art student, who can quite proudly boast his work pieces have been displayed in local exhibitions and scrutinized/praised by critics. give him someone to challenge him artistically, someone he appreciates because of the challenge, someone he can’t help but respect as a result

if not artist rivals, give youngsoo a critic ! someone so harsh and unforgiving that youngsoo is determined to prove them wrong, to show that his artwork is more than the elementary vivid array of colors it’s always called, that he is more than the harsh words thrown at him.

junseo

good/bad influence ! junseo is an alcoholic, which means this could go either way - someone helps junseo open up about the source of his issue and is another beneficiary & positive influence, or they’re his go to for partying, for drinking, for binging til he blacks out

trainees/idols that knew his sister - his sister that died in a car crash which gave him his stutter, that was close to debut, whose death is the reason he drinks so much and he basically ran away from a home full of incomplete memories. maybe they asked his parents for his info to catch up, to find closure of their own in junseo. this could be anything !

aoyun

hobby buddies !! aoyun, as much as he is in utter love with the stars, is also fascinated by the humanity in hobbies. the utter care & focus people give to one hobby, to developing a craft. and so when he’s not stargazing, when he’s not working, when he’s filled to the brim with a wonder and fascination befitting of the stars, he’s picking up every hobby out there. and fortunately, or unforunately for your muse, they’re dragged along

hojin

fwb & unrequited love (?). hojin has never been able to distinguish between platonic and romantic love, sharing affection so freely that people have given him looks with how shameless & giving he is of it. so give him one of his friends he’s fallen into bed with one night, who have a thing together, who don’t put labels because, as hojin always says, ‘who needs labels for fun’

fan and content creator interactions ! hojin regularly puts out animated shorts & clips, of what-ifs from movies & shows & books & games. and maybe your muse has been following him for some time, and finally reaches out. and hojin knows his animations are enjoyed but to this extent ? he’s so starstruck himself that he’s going to eagerly keep reaching out !

kyungmin

apartment neighbor plots ! literally anything but romantic/sexual plots ! give me kyungmin constantly saying hello by leaving a plate of freshly baked cookies, or a container of still warm soup on your muse’s doorstep without ever saying hello. give me kyungmin slipping notes under their door because he speaks slow & soft & quiet and would rather write than speak. give me eventually meeting & becoming friends ! literally anything and everything

hosung

pen pals !!! hosung has always had trouble making friends, ever since he was sent to public school and was shunned for his parents’ deep pockets. so he took to the internet, took to coding, to hacking, to pass the school years by. and along the way, he’s made a friend, one who is probably across the world, one who knows he suffers from chronic night terrors and is a walking corpse half the time. but oh, would ya look at that, they live in the same country, the same city!

'i’m no one, i didn’t do this !’ uh-oh, hosung takes a job that he doesn’t think twice about, that is just a paycheck to feed his cat and keep the lights on at home. but the person who asks him to hack & deliver classified files ( whether it’s your muse or an NPC ) turns on him and suddenly hosung is on the run. or he’s trying to prove his innocence. this poor, sleep-deprived boy just wants to get through his life simply, and yet he’s thrown headfirst into the dark underbelly of the world

daeho

childhood friends !!! whether his best friend from elementary school or one of his close friends from before, who can recognize how wildly different he is now, who only remembers him as a happy go lucky kid. so who the hell is this uncaring, mask-wearing guy ? what happened to daeho ?

partner in crime ! daeho doesn’t partner up often, if at all, but he’s a greedy thing and can never say no to a guarantee score. maybe your muse is just the perfect partner, one of the only ones daeho will seek out again for another crime, something bigger & bolder & grander ( bonus points this turns bonnie & clyde esque uwu )

minjun

occasional collabers ! minjun is a busker, most time, and can only earn so much money with just his soft crooning vocals and his adequate guitar playing. so give him another busker, one who dances while he sings, one who plays other instruments. hell, give him a crew of buskers that he joins or forms until they become their own thing

odd time job friends ! busking only provides so much, so minjun takes up odd jobs everywhere they’re available. maybe they met while doing the graveyard shift at some tiny mart that doesn’t even need one night guard, let alone 2. or maybe they met when the pizza place sent out 2 delivery people. or maybe they always take the same shifts

someone in the idol life ! a scouter, a CEO, a trainee, an idol, a manager, anyone ! give me someone who saw minjun sing, who knew he’d be good for stardom, who is having the damnedest time trying to scout minjun because minjun doesn’t want to be famous like that. he doesn’t want to be an idol, he refuses

chunyu

looking for: model ! chunyu’s muse, chunyu’s inspiration, chunyu’s subject. give him a close friend who models for him, who he helps reach fame and grander connections all thanks to his camerawork, his mind

looking for: hiking/exploration partner ! chunyu’s muse comes from beyond people, from beyond humanity, stemming from nature and its beauty and its intricate idiosyncrasies. he gets so lost in exploring that he winds up bruised easily, so please save this photographing loser from bruising himself further

looking for: best friend :( his go to, the one he always turns to when parents are asking if he’d change his mind and decided to join their organization, the one he always takes to charity galas when his boyfriend isn’t free, the one who knows how much he wants to be a good son and not the sure disappointment he must be to parents who wanted him to be a philanthropist like they

kwangsu

carefree to kwangsu’s stressed - kwangsu rarely lets his hair down, so to speak, too stressed about law school, about becoming a lawyer as soon as he can, about his studies. so give him a close friend who can coax him to relax, who takes him out to carnivals and amusement parks just to see him laugh genuinely. and maybe his stress & studious habits rub off a bit

choi kwangsu, that name is awfully familiar.... give me someone who recognizes his name from old newspapers, from that one case of a corrupt lawyer whose shady dealings lead to his only son being kidnapped. maybe your muse is the kid of one of those shady people, maybe your muse is the kid of the officer who rescued kwangsu, maybe your muse is just a fan of old crime cases

hyunjun

streaming buddies ! hyunjun’s a growing twitch streamer and always features friends in his streams. maybe your muse is a friend he coaxed into joining one, or maybe your muse is another streamer that fans asked for a collab, or maybe your muse and hyunjun has started up a playful rivalry

frat bros ! frat bros for life, frat bros ride or die together. honestly, hyunjun is super close with his big and grand big in the frat house, and he’d be utterly lost in college if not for them taking him under his wing. give him his big, his grand big, give him one of his other frat bros

opposites attract, sorta ? hyunjun is the chillest frat bro you will ever meet, and a major social butterfly to boot ! he has friends in what feels like every major, every grade, hell even in the other frats and sororities. so give me a muse who is the opposite of frat bro, someone that hyunjun goes to for help with anything not video game development related, or who always study together, or who became friends b/c hyunjun was drunk that one time and tried making pizza rolls and set off the fire alarm

insu

a regular - insu never takes regular customers, enjoying the change of pace, enjoying the presence of different hands on his body, enjoying the comfort and security and sick fun in dropping someone whose time and money isn’t worth it anymore. but maybe your muse has thick pockets that insu is only too eager to dip his fingers into. or maybe your muse has his most recent of addictions in easy access, both easy encouragements to sticking around.

[your-high-lady]

Realisation

Summary: This story is about Feyre. She has a couple of small dreams she wants to achieve but turns out it isn't as easy as she imagined it would. Trust me, the story is better than the summary. Modern AU. Feysand.

Chapter 1  Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4  

Chapter 5: Farewell

Disclaimer: As always, I do not own the characters or any of this, except for the plot. My story wouldn't even be on the internet if the legendary Sarah J Mass, hadn't written the ACOTAR books first. She truly is so effing amazing, and I feel so happy thinking about that time when I noticed ACOTAR on my local library's shelf and decided to give the book a try.

But anyways. Enough of that. On to the story.

"Cheers!" I clinked my glass against Mor's, Dad's, Nesta's and Elain's. Dad had taken a week off from his travelling, and Nesta and Elain had come down from Dunedin to celebrate mine and Mor's graduation and have "one last dinner before you two grow up".

We would be leaving for Stanford tomorrow morning. The semester would be starting on Monday, and we'd be landing on Saturday so that gave us two days to get settled in. I know it wasn't a lot of time but our apartment had already been furnished and all, so we'd only need to unpack and buy some groceries for the week. The rest could be done on the weekends after the semester started.

Though it was going to be a late night, I was glad that we were here. Sitting together as a family—because Mor was practically family, even though we didn't share blood—one last time before we went off to college.

College.

I couldn't be more excited. But I was nervous, too. Of course, I was. Moving to a whole new country, with only your friend and her family—they lived near Stanford which was one of the main reasons Dad was letting me go, despite the fact that Mor hated them and they hated her because of some ancient family feud. Although she did have a cousin there, who she was on good terms with. I think his name was Reed or something, maybe Rice—as familiar faces? Anyone would be nervous. But I was ready. I knew it was going to be hard. I knew there would be bad days and good days. I knew there would be days where I wished that I'd just stayed in New Zealand. But that was why I was going. For the challenge, for the thrill of it. Of living on my own terms. It irked me a little that I would need a bit of help from the people around me and Mor will be living with me, but it wasn't that bad. Mor knew my dreams of living alone in my own house or apartment, and she was okay with it. Supportive, even. But that was my goal. And then after that maybe I could consider… no, I wouldn't even consider dating. After what I'd been through, I was in no rush at all. Succeeding was my new goal.

I hadn't told Dad about the incident. I might've told Mum but she had died when I was eight, because of some sickness. I often missed her, but Dad, Nesta and Elain had always made me feel better with stories about her, whenever I felt that way.

I didn't tell Elain because she was just so nice and caring: it felt wrong to bring something as bad as rape into her life. She was too pure for that. About Nesta, though. I didn't tell her for the absolute opposite reason. She would've blown apart the world to find Dagdan and Tamlin if I told her about it.

Mor didn't agree with my decision. She believed that I should at least tell Nesta about it. She was worried about my mental health and believed telling a real family member would help. But I was okay. I'd accepted what had happened and why. I knew it was my fault and had learnt to live with it. I was fine. I was okay.

I was not okay.

—

"Bye Daddy. Bye Nesta, Elain." I hugged each of them separately. Mor had gone to the bathroom giving us the perfect opportunity to have a private farewell. "I'll miss you guys."

"Make sure you call every day." I smiled at Nesta before saying I'll call her every hour. She laughed and that just made my day. Mor came back, then, so I gave each of them another giant, tight hug before going through the doors with Mor, waving behind me, and out of their sight.

We were on our own now.

—

After sixteen hours of sitting in the most uncomfortable position ever, the plane finally landed. We went through security and all that crap. Mor hadn't bothered asking her parents to pick us up, and her cousin was busy, leaving us to take the taxi.

The apartment—which Dad would be paying the rent for until Mor and I got our own jobs and were able to afford it for ourselves—that Dad had bought for us was only five minutes away from the campus so we would easily be able to just walk over, though Dad had given me enough money to get a decent car, so that we could drive to the grocery store and places like that.

When I opened the door to our medium-sized new home, I was quite surprised to find a decent amount of furniture already laid out, though I shouldn't have been. Dad would totally do something like this.

The kitchen, mostly white with brown dotted here and there, was to the right, with a small lounge area in front of it. A telly had been placed at the back tucked into a corner so that Mor or I could watch whatever was on while working on the bench in the kitchen. A couple of brown and black sofas had been placed, making a half square, around a centrepiece table. It was also brown, the wood light mahogany, with glass in the middle of it, placed over a white furry rug. Mor instantly threw down her bags and ran towards it, running her fingers through the soft material. She said, pushing her lower lip out, "It's so soft, Feyre. It's like heaven in the clouds and I could fall asleep in one of them," then promptly but carefully pushed the table away and started making angels in the carpet. I shook my head at her, smiling a little, before heading towards the small corridor on the left of the front room. There were two doors in total, leading into the bedrooms—one for each of us—on either side of the hall plus another small cupboard, with built-in shelves. Entering the first room, I plopped my heavy bags onto the brown-carpeted floor and plain bed, which had just a mattress on it, before turning a full circle as I examined the room. It wasn't big by any means, but I quite liked it. The walls were bare with white paint. Plenty of room for me to paint the walls whatever I wanted. The cupboard also wasn't very spacious, though the small sliding door also served as a mirror so that was a bonus. Already imagining the different things I could paint on the walls, I went out and into what would become Mor's bedroom. It was only slightly bigger, the bed set in a different position, but I knew once we were settled in, our bedrooms would become very, very different.

—

The next day, I was cooking lunch when Mor suggested we go shopping. I turned to look at her. She was sitting cross-legged on the black bench, beside me, munching on an apple. "And why, may I ask, do you want to go shopping?" I asked raising my eyebrows, as I sprinkled in pinches of herbs and spices I knew Mor liked. As I skimmed through the recipe I was following—and modifying at the same time—Mor answered. "Well school starts tomorrow so I want to do something fun, and you know how much I absolutely adore shopping. And anyway, neither of us bought lots of luggage and we don't have enough clothes to survive the rest of winter." She was right of course. We hadn't brought a lot with us, definitely not enough to last us the winter. Sighing, I nodded. She squealed before giving me a tight but quick hug from behind and running off to get dressed. I smiled at her back. Sometimes it felt like Mor was my child, with me always taking care of her. I didn't mind though. I was just glad the incident with Tamlin and Dagdan hadn't affected her as badly as it had me. It would've been very saddening to me to see that light vanish from her eyes.

—

Mor took the clothes out of their bags, and put the t-shirt against my shoulders, "Oh, Feyre, this is going to look wonderful on you," She squealed. I look down at the t-shirt. It had a floral design, most of the flowers a pastel pink or blue, with frilly sleeves that came down to my elbows and clung to my waist accentuating my non-existent curves and breasts. It wasn't anything special but Mor had been so insistent that I get this, because apparently "the male population in school will be left stunned when they see you in this." I'd just rolled my eyes when she said that and moved to put the shirt back in its spot, but Mor wasn't having it. She'd been holding an iced drink in her hand—it was nearly finished but there was enough colour in it that if she dropped on the shirt, it would be stained. And that is exactly what she threatened to do if I didn't buy the shirt. Which is why I now owned that shirt. I sighed at the sweet memory as Mor carried on going through the different shopping bags we'd collected over the day. It was then that I noticed a couple across the street, from where we were waiting for the bus. They were kissing, sweetly. I don't why, but looking at them triggered lots of other memories. Memories of Tamlin and I.

It had been perfect in the begging. It had been everything I'd ever wanted for myself. He was caring and nice and handsome and protective. But that was the problem. He was too good. So good that I failed to notice all the bad things about him. And then when I finally noticed, it was too late. I sometimes hated myself for that. I'd grown up hearing warnings from my parents and older sisters about the strange men in our world who had no moral sense. They told me that they were people like Tamlin and Dagdan out there and had told me to keep myself safe. And every time I'd just brushed them off, absolutely sure that I would know what to do if and when I met someone like that. But of course, I hadn't actually really thought about it. I hadn't really expected to actually meet someone like that. I wish I had. I wish I'd listened to my parents and sisters. I wish I hadn't been so blinded by love that I couldn't even see my own doom approaching me with each moment I spent in Tamlin's company.

'Feyre!" I blinked, and then blinked again to clear the blurriness in my eyes, to find Mor standing over me, her hands tightly gripping my shoulders. "What's wrong? Are you thinking about him?" She asked, spitting out the last word. I just shook my head, bring my hand up to wipe the tears that had fallen down, while I thought about all the mistakes I'd made in the last year. Thankfully the bus arrived then, and I gently pushed Mor away, letting her know that I didn't want to talk about it.

AN: Please review. I'll try to get the next chapter out soon. Thank you for reading.

[veliseraptor]

hey, i've been reading the everything sucks au again and I have a question: does natasha know about all the shit that went down? like, is she aware that loki died? if she is, how did she react? did she hear a rumor, did Bucky tell her via secret code, or did she hear about Ross's death and saw the state of the weather and put two and two together? and how would she react to loki coming back?

HEY THANKS FOR REMINDING ME HOW MUCH I LIKE THIS VERSE, I just wrote almost 2k tonight of this because I got so wound up about it. tony snuck in there so sorry about that but it’s still really about natasha. 

anyway for those of you who forgot - the everything sucks au is the au of remember this cold where ross has loki executed before steve arrives at the raft. it’s got a tag of its own, or if you prefer a version posted on ao3.

and the deep river ran on, 1.9k, natasha pov, some natasha & tony

At least Tony gave her advance warning, so Natasha had time to go thoroughly to ground before Ross’s people caught up with her. And she did - she knew how to do it, had always been ready to do it, like she’d known someday it would come to this no matter how desperately she’d wanted to believe it wouldn’t.

Everything ended. She knew that better than anyone.

Still, it stung.

She kept her head down, way down, for the next two months. It was only when she came up for air that she learned that Secretary Ross had been murdered. In his home, single gunshot wound to the head. The official word was no suspects but Natasha dug into the files (risky, keep your nose out of it) and if she couldn’t be sure…

Looked like the Winter Soldier was back. She would’ve said on the warpath but it didn’t seem like he’d hit anyone else - just Ross, and that made a nervous prickle crawl down Natasha’s spine.

Steve, was her first thought. If something had happened to Steve - if Ross’s people had caught up to him somehow - but no, if it had been like that it would’ve been all over the news. Plenty of spin, sure, but they wouldn’t be able to keep Captain America’s death quiet.

There was a possibility that Barnes had just lost control, but then she’d expect a lot more bodies. Steve wouldn’t just let Barnes go off and kill someone, no matter how pissed off he might be, which meant Steve either hadn’t been there to stop him or hadn’t been able to.

Her list of possible conclusions was narrowing fast, pointing in one direction. Because if Steve wasn’t dead, and Bucky had gone after Ross, and no one had stopped him from doing it…

There weren’t a lot of people Barnes would do that for. Steve. Sam, maybe.

And Loki.

Shit, Natasha thought, and went looking for records. Didn’t take much to track down Ross’s secret underwater prison. They’d saved records of the security footage - she found the cameras for the cells first, and watched her friends: Wanda rocking back and forth in a straightjacket, Sam pacing, Clint lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling with one hand behind his head. At least she knew they’d been freed - that was in the news, the ex-Avenger fugitives. Where were they now?

She didn’t know enough.

What she did know, though, before too long, was that her hunch had been right. Timestamped footage of Loki’s execution, tucked away in the databanks. There were other files in the same folder; Natasha opened one and watched maybe thirty seconds before closing it and exiting the system, slipping out of the internet cafe she’d been working from.

She walked three blocks before sitting down in a park, spine straight, and breathed. Piecing events together. Steve and Bucky had gone to Siberia to deal with the other Winter Soldiers there. Loki must not have gone with them - must have stayed back with the others, and been captured. She’d bet that had been Vision. Other than Thor, Bruce, and Wanda, he was probably the only one with the raw power.

From there, it looked like it’d been a short road to Ross having him quietly eliminated. It made sense. Loki was dangerous, next to impossible to contain. And - based on those other files - valuable for other reasons.

Steve came back to free the others, because of course he did. By then, Loki was already gone. And afterwards…

God, Steve.

Natasha’s feelings on Loki were - complicated. And that was putting it mildly. She didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. But at the same time - he wasn’t what she’d thought he was. Over the past few years, he’d done nothing bad - unless you counted what he and Barnes had done to Hydra, which she didn’t - and a surprising amount of good. That he loved Steve was beyond doubting, and he’d managed to forge friendships with Barnes and Wanda both, and mended fences with Thor. And he’d apparently been willing to sacrifice himself to give Steve and Barnes a fighting chance.

Oh, shit, Thor. Steve was one thing. Steve would turn inward, blame himself, rip himself to shreds. Thor, though...Thor would turn his fury outward. Where that wrath would fall…

Maybe on the whole planet. Almost certainly on Tony.

Natasha pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and then let them fall away. “Fuck,” she whispered hoarsely. She’d known things would be bad. But this bad?

She half thought she should just go back underground. Weather out the storm. She wished she knew a way to reach out to Steve, or if her presence would even be welcome. Would he blame her, for supporting the Accords? For his loss?

Did she blame herself?

She could probably track down Clint, if she tried. Talk to him. It would be a comfort, probably; he usually was. But maybe he’d be angry with her, too.

Natasha should be used to being alone, but just now, she was very aware of it.

**

It wasn’t hard to know when Thor came back. When he knew. Monster storms lashed the planet, the sky cracking open with the force of a god’s rage and grief. There were no reports of Tony Stark’s death, though, and she was pretty sure that would’ve made news. Natasha reached out, carefully, to Jane Foster, but she didn’t answer her phone.

No word of Steve Rogers. No sign of the Winter Soldier. The storms died down, eventually.

Something drove Natasha back into the files on the Raft. She wiped the entire folder that held all the footage of Loki. It was a stupid gesture - meaningless, really. But whatever Loki had done–

He deserved better than that. Than having his death and desecration reduced to a few megabytes on a government server.

**

The message from Tony caught her by surprise. He said he wanted to see her. She thought about ignoring it - thought hard about ignoring it - but in the end decided she’d take the bait. He wanted her to come to his place in Malibu, which she declined, requesting somewhere public instead. They went back and forth in coded messages for a while before Tony sent one that said, please Nat I need to talk to someone.

Weak, she thought, settling into Tony’s lab, but she was still here.

Tony looked wrecked when he came downstairs and stopped dead, looking at her. After a second he just made a face and said, “yeah, okay,” before stepping in. “Um. Hey.”

She didn’t respond. His words to her still stung. Old habits die hard. He shifted, and rubbed a hand down his face. “So you’re pissed at me too, huh,” he said. “Go ahead, get it out of your system.”

Natasha just leaned on the table. “I don’t have anything to get out of my system,” she said. “You said you needed to talk to someone. I’m here.”

Tony sank down onto a bench. “Ross killed Loki,” he said, after a moment.

“I know,” Natasha said. She hesitated before asking, “where’s Steve?”

Tony’s expression spasmed, tightened. “Wakanda, right now.” That didn’t come as a particular surprise.

“Have you talked to him?”

“Is he the reason you’re here? To find out how he’s doing?” The bitterness in Tony’s voice was unmistakable. Natasha just leveled him with a look, and Tony’s lips twisted. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I have.”

“And?” Natasha said, when he didn’t expand.

“Not like we’re having many heart-to-hearts these days,” Tony said. “But I’d say he’s probably better now that Loki’s back from the dead.”

Natasha was sure, at first, that she’d misheard him. Then she was sure she was misunderstanding.

“Yeah,” Tony said. “Back from the dead. We did that. Thor and Steve and I. They all left about a week ago.”

“What the hell are you talking about,” Natasha said.

“I know,” Tony said. “I know. I thought they were crazy, when Steve came asking me for help, but - guess not. They did it. We did it, I went with them, it seemed like...seemed like I should, even if, if they both hate my guts right now. Maybe forever. But I thought maybe it would, I don’t know, help.” His laugh was raw. “Yeah, not so much. Fuck. But yeah, we found the bastard, dragged him out, he was crazy as a shithouse rat - wouldn’t stop screaming for I swear to god the first ten fucking hours even if he ran out of voice after about three. Kept going anyway, though. And neither of them - Thor, Steve, neither of them would hear anything about how maybe he wasn’t going to just - bounce back, be fine–”

Natasha was still trying to process back from the dead, but Tony was certainly painting a vivid picture. She could see it, too: Thor and Steve both closing ranks around Loki. It wouldn’t matter how crazy he was, how damaged. They wouldn’t care.

“It got better, I guess. Sort of. He was walking and talking by the time they took him out of here, anyway. But he’s - fucked up. Deep down broken, maybe. And I don’t know, maybe I did the wrong thing, brought back something that shouldn’t be here…”

He trailed off.

“Why’d you do it,” Natasha asked.

“What?”

“If you had all these misgivings,” she asked, keeping her voice neutral, “why’d you do it? Why did you help?”

“Everything’s fucked up,” Tony said after a moment, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t think - I didn’t want him dead. I didn’t think Ross was that stupid.” Natasha said nothing. She didn’t think she needed to say that at least two people had told him that would be exactly what Ross would do; she was sure he already knew. “Loki dying - broke things. And I know that was - at least partly my fault. So I thought if I helped get him back…”

“It didn’t work,” Natasha said, not a question. Tony snorted, harsh and humorless.

“No,” he said. “No, it fucking didn’t.”

She couldn’t say she was surprised. Loki might be back now, but that didn’t erase the fact that he’d died.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and meant it. “I know you didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“No,” Tony said, sounding relieved. “I fucking didn’t. Thank you.”

“But it still did,” Natasha said.

Tony’s expression turned bitter. “You too, huh?”

“We all have to face the consequences of what we do,” Natasha said. “I know I am.”

Tony’s expression wavered. “Jesus fuck. It’s not all my fault. I was just trying to…” He trailed off, and his shoulders slumped. He sighed, looking away. “I thought I could fix this.”

That’s your problem, Natasha thought. You think you should be able to fix everything. “Some things,” she said, “you just can’t.” She stood up. “It’s not safe to contact me. For either of us. Don’t do it again.”

She left. She thought maybe this - Loki’s resurrection - should feel like good news, but she only felt more alone than ever.

[clubdolan]

Wishes Come True | N.C.

I watched a Make-A-Wish video and was ~inspired~.

“Her name is Riley, she's eleven, she has been diagnosed with astrocytoma, a brain tumor, has had three surgeries and currently is going through chemo.” The guide from Make-A-Wish handed Noah a picture, “Her wish was to meet Peter K, aka: Noah. So you have an hour with her, more time if you want but an hour is necessary.”

She untangled a few lanyards and handed one to Noah with his name on it, “Her mom’s name is Carol, she should be coming down any time to take us upstairs, it’s all a surprise, she doesn’t know her wish was granted—

“Oh my goodness, it’s Peter K.” A voice behind them said, “I cannot believe I am seeing you in person after seeing you on a screen. Thank you so much for coming.”

Noah stood up and hugged her, “I am so happy I could be here and very excited to surprise her.” He kept hold the mom’s shaking hands, “I brought her a gift too, if that’s okay?” He gestured to a basket sat on his friend’s lap. “It has Peter’s lacrosse hoodie in it, a book signed by some of the cast and some other fun things.”

“That is very okay, super okay!” The mom smiled, tilting to look at the basket. “Are you Elsa.. on Once Upon a Time?” 

The girl that sat with the basket on her lap looked up, “Um, yeah, I’m Lilly.” She stood up and stuck out her hand.

Carol let go of Noah’s hands and shook Lilly’s, “Riley and I used to wait every week for new episodes of Once to come out, we loved when Anna and Elsa showed up. It was right when she started her first round of chemo and it was such a magical show for us.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet to hear.” Lilly smiled, “Did my hair give it away?” She gestured at the long blonde hair that set on her shoulder, “It’s usually the giveaway.”

“That and your beautiful eyes.” Carol grinned, “Can you come upstairs too? Riley will just be… so excited!”

“If they say it’s okay, I can.”

Everyone looked at the Make-A-Wish lady as she hand-wrote Lilly’s name on a pass. “I can’t say no.” She laughed, handing the lanyard over.

As they made their way to the elevator, Carol continued conversation. The Make A Wish lady grabbed the basket of gifts and Noah’s publicist followed.

“So Elsa and Peter K walk into a hospital….” Noah joked as they waited on the elevator to get to the top floor. His hand sat gently on Lilly’s back and she leaned into him until the bell dinged.

“Her older sister Rachel who is fourteen is here too, she doesn’t know about the surprise either.” Carol mentioned, “I don’t even know how to do this. Do I just have you walk in? Do I announce it?”

“Can I just go ask if I can watch the movie?” Carol nodded, filming right behind him as he opened the door. Without saying a word he sat down in the chair next to the girls on the bed, “Oh I love this movie, can I watch it too?”

Both Riley and Rachel slowly looked over at him, his curls hung right at the top of his eyes as he grinned back.

“Peter……Noah… Noah??” Riley asked, pulling on her sister’s arm. 

“Riley… Riley???? and Rachel???” He joked back, acting like he was freaking out.

“Mommy, it’s… mommy you knew?” Riley yelled, “Rachel did you—

“I didn’t know!”

“Can I at least get a hug?” He asked, sticking his arms out. Riley’s little body covered in purple butterflies pajamas seemed to hop off the bed and onto Noah’s lap as her arms wrapped around his neck. 

The Make-A-Wish lady stepped in the room, “My wish was granted? My wish was granted!” She stood up and pointed at Noah, “It’s here! He’s here!”

Everyone in the room was laughing at her reaction, Carol filmed the whole thing and Noah’s publicists snapped pictures on her phone.

“Sit down, you all can chat for a bit.” The Make A Wish lady said, pulling Riley’s table to the side. “But we might need another chair?”

“Another chair? Don’t tell me Lara Jean is here!” Riley dramatically said, “If it’s not Lara Jean is it Margot? Or Kitty?”

“It’s no one from my movies.” Noah gave a hint, “Your mom is the one that recognized her.” 

Every eye in the room went to Carol, “It’s was our favorite show to watch when you first had chemo—

“Once Upon a Time!” Rachel and Riley yelled at the same time, “There’s so many possibilities.”

“Think….” Noah tried to give a few hints, “Cold…. Queen…. Ice—

“ELSA?!” They both guessed again, giving Lilly the cue to step in the room. 

“Hi” She waved, walking towards them. “I’m Lilly.”

Riley and Rachel sat in shock as she stood in front of them. Riley stood up on her bed and gave her a hug, “Hi Elsa Lilly!”

She took a seat next to Noah and they recorded a few bits for Make A Wish before most people left the room and let Rachel and Riley have their own time with Noah and Lilly.

Questions about being on set, future movies, tv shows, signing her iPhone case, etc. Riley had them all.

“I actually just filmed something where I play a robot-girl, I think it comes out next year, it’s got a lot of editing to do because half of it is all made up.” Lilly scrolled on her pictures to find one of her in her outfit with wires coming out of her neck in special effects makeup. 

Riley opened her gift, laying it all out on the bed. They had all become so comfortable in each others presence that neither Noah or Lilly had noticed that Lilly’s hand was on his leg, listening to Rachel tell a story about something that happened at school.

“I have school here, on my computer.” Riley pointed.

“That’s how I finished school.” Noah said, “You too, right?” 

Lilly nodded, “On set most of the time.”

“Do you two wanna be in a movie together?” Rachel asked.

“I’d be fine with that.” Lilly laughed, “Can it be a tropical movie? I just filmed in England and it was freezing the entire time.”

“It can be a tropical movie about a pirate.” Riley explained, “And a mermaid, you can be the mermaid.” She pointed to Lilly.

“What if I want to be a mermaid?” Noah frowned, “A merman?”

“Okay, you both can be mermaids and you can run from a bad pirate who is trying to get you. But you get eaten by an octopus!” She laughed, pointing at Noah.

“Oh noooo!” He dramatically said, falling back into his seat, “Death by octopus?”

“It’ll slurp you up! And Lilly the mermaid will escape and become a princess and ban the pirate from ever being in the ocean again!”

“I’m down with that.”

“You get to survive and be a princess and I die by octopus slurps? Not fair.” He pushed her shoulder.

Lilly pushed back, “Super fair. I’ve died three times in movies and you’ve never died once.” 

“But an octopus?” He asked Riley, “Why not a shark or a…. whale?”

“Because an octopus has eight legs.”

“That’s the best reason I have ever heard.” He smiled, “You should write a movie for us and send us the script to give a director.” 

“That’s a lot of writing.” Riley sighed, “I’ll just give you ideas, okay?”

“What other ideas do you have?” Lilly asked.

Riley explained for over twenty minutes her ideas for movies and super heroes and everything in between. She stood on the bed exaggerating how tall a monster was. She ran around the room describing a cape for a super hero. 

She stood in front of Lilly and looked at her hair, “You could be Rapunzel too, you just need a braid.”

“Do you know how to braid?” Riley nodded, pointing at the little braid in Rachel’s hair, “Then give it a go.” Lilly lifted her up to her lap and Riley’s fingers went to town separating hair and winding it together. 

Noah took a few pictures of them, watching them giggle and tell secrets. He looked back through the pictures, admiring the smiles on both of their faces.

“You like her, huh?”

He was shook out of his zone as Rachel spoke to him. “Huh?”

“You like Lilly.”

“I mean.. I—

“It wasn’t a question.” She shrugged, “It’s obvious.”

“What’s so obvious about it?”

“I’m fourteen, I know when people have crushes on each other.” She moved closer to him and they both watched Riley continue braiding Lilly’s hair. “You keep taking pictures of her and you were smiling really big when you looked at them. She keeps touching your leg and you hold onto her hand. But mostly, because your phone background is the both of you and people only do that when they have crushes. Mine is Harvey.” 

Noah looked next to him, “You’re smart.” He nodded, “Do you think she likes me back?”

Rachel took a second to look at Lilly before explaining, “Yes, for sure. Like I said she keeps touching you. She keeps smiling at you too. And the way she looks at you is… she has that look… you know the look?”

“The look?”

“The heart eyes, like the emoji.”

“You’re saying literal hearts come out of her eye—

“No..” She rolled her eyes, “The look you get when you really use the heart eye emoji. Did she come to New York with you?”

“She might have?”

“So she did?”

“Yes, we’ve been here for a few days.” He admitted. 

“So you’re on vacation together?” Rachel kept interrogating. “The rumors are true, you’re dating.”

“What rumors?”

“I sit in this hospital a lot with my sister and I read a lot of news on twitter. Yesterday you were a trending topic. Leaving the basketball game…..” She tried to remind him, “You held the door open for her?”

“As any gentleman would do.”

“You carried her shopping bags?”

“Some of it was mine.” He defended.

“And you’re staying at The Plaza, paparazzi caught you leaving there too. That’s a fancy hotel.” She grinned, “Do you even try to keep up on the gossip about you?”

“No, I try to ignore all the gossip. But I—

“Have you kissed her?” Noah whipped his head around to look at her, “Well that’s an obvious yes!” Rachel laughed loudly, getting both of the girl’s attention.

“What do you think?” Lilly asked, turning her head so you could see the one braid go down the side.

“I think it’s beautiful.”

“It needs to be longer to be Rapunzel’s but you can get extensions.” Rachel said, “So you two are dating? Like the internet says?”

“Huh?” Both Riley and Lilly asked.

“Apparently we’re a dead give-a-way once you see us together on the trending topics of twitter.” Noah sighed, “She’s a little detective.”

“Nilly is real?” Riley looked up at Lilly with inquisitive eyes.

“Why else would they randomly be in New York together staying at the same hotel? You’re wish was Noah, not the both of them. She just so happened to show up with him.”

“She’s good.” Noah shook his head and grinned.

Riley’s face lit up, looking at Lilly, “Please say you’re dating him.”

“You think I should?” She whispered down to her.

“Yeah, he’s cute.” Riley giggled, looking over at Noah. 

“Hey! What are you whispering about me for?” He pulled her off Lilly’s lap, “What are you telling her?”

Riley moved around and put her hands to his ear, “That she should date you because you’re cute.”

“You?? Think I’m??” He pointed at himself before cupping his hands around Riley’s ear, “Well I think she’s pretty.”

“You better tell me what he’s telling you.” Lilly threatened, “Or I’ll tell—

“He said you’re pretty!” Riley yelled, hiding her face in Noah’s chest. 

“Told youuuu….” Rachel smiled at herself for being right. “Life’s too short to keep secrets that make you happy.”

“And she’s funny” He kept whispering in Riley’s ear, “And she makes good brownies.”

“So Nilly is real..” Riley looked up at him, “Really real?”

“Yes.” He laughed, “Because you two started asking questions.”

Carol came in as Noah was ticking Riley, Rachel was laughing and cheering him on as Lilly smiled sitting next to them all.

“So meeting Peter K was all you imagined and more?” She asked, lifting Riley off of Noah and onto the bed.

“Yes!!” She jumped up and down on the bed.

“It’s time for your check-up so it’s time to say goodbye.”

Riley and Rachel pouted, looking over at Noah. “We’ll keep in touch with you guys, I’ll get your mom’s phone number if that’s okay? We can FaceTime.”

“Perfect!”

They took more pictures and Lilly hugged both girls, “You’ve been so sweet to meet, I’m so glad I tagged along today.”

“Me too.” Riley smiled, touching the braid that was still in Lilly’s hair. 

Noah hugged the both of them, “Is there anything else you need?”

Riley quickly shook her head no but Rachel stopped him, “Riley wants a kiss on the cheek!”

“No I don—

“You said if you ever met him you wanted a kiss—

“No—

“Yes—

“No I d—

She froze as Noah grabbed her hands, “You want a kiss on the cheek?” Riley nodded on time, squeezing her eyes shut. He puckered his lips out and quickly smooched her cheek, she blushed as he hugged her again. “Bye, Miss Riley.”

The walk out of the hospital seemed longer than the walk in before they hopped in a car alone and were off to dinner.

“That was the cutest. All of it. The cutest thing.” Lilly said, “I about cried three or four times.”

“Ugh, me too. When she was talking about her therapy and how she was so excited for a wig I was a mix of happy and sad cry.” He laughed, “You were so sweet with her.”

“Me? You were so cute with the both of them.” She shook his arm, “She is in love with you. You just made that little girl’s life. She will be thinking of that and talking about it for so long. Especially the kiss.”

“I wanted to just pack her up and bring her with us.” He smiled, “Her sister was hilarious, so observant.”

“I heard you think I’m pretty.” Lilly winked at him.

“Well yeah, I guess I did say that.” He fake stretched and put his arm on her shoulder, making her laugh, “I didn’t think it would be appropriate to tell a little girl how hot you were.” Lilly looked up at him, “Didn’t want to mention how good you looked last night in—

She smacked his arm and pointed to their driver, “…nothing.” He whispered in her ear, so close she could feel his lips move.

“You just did a Make A Wish, you can't act like that!”

“Is that in the paper I signed?” He laughed, “Was that a secret thing?”

They sat in silence on the way to lunch, both checking social media and posting about Riley and her Make-A-Wish. Lilly found Rachel’s instagram where she had typed out a long post about how nice they were and how excited her sister still is that it had happened. She commented on the post how nice it was to meet them and she couldn’t wait to FaceTime them soon! Noah commented soon after with a lot of hearts and my favorite girls!!!! 

“So.. since people know now.. or.. kind of know now..” Noah started, “Do you think we should.... like... I don’t know....”

“Like?”

Noah’s face squished together and he held in a laugh, “Can I post a picture of you and talk about how cute you are?”

Lilly grabbed his face and laughed, “You can do whatever you want.”

“So I can?”

“Yes, I don’t care.” She kissed him, “Just don’t like.. not a weird picture.. like not one from a shoot.”

“No it’s one I took.” He smiled, scrolling through his photos. She could tell he was typing as his fingers tapped the screen. He kept erasing and typing more and looking at her then smiling and typing again.

“Whaaaaat?” She kept asking, trying to look at his post.

“Nooooo, stop.” He pulled his phone back, continuing to type.

Lilly sat with her arms crossed, watching the New York streets pass by. Her phone buzzed and she looked down, ‘@ncentineo has posted a new picture’ ‘@ncentineo has tagged you in a picture’.

@ncentineo: So there’s this girl & she makes me ridiculously happy. 😍 

“Awww, No” She hugged onto his arm, “You’re too cute.” He kissed the top of her head.

@lillygriffin: It’s untrue......... He is not local, nor organic. But he’s cute. 🤗 So I guess it’s okay. 

Lilly posted a picture of him and watched her instagram notifications go non-stop. She watched the orange bubble pop up with new followers, likes and comments every few seconds. 

Noah slid the phone from her hand and put it in his pocket, “How about... we go eat and ignore our phones? Then go take a nap before we go out tonight?”

Lilly agreed, looking out the window as they pulled up to their lunch spot. Sullivan Street Bakery was barely busy. They were arriving just before the lunch rush which was the plan. “You know this is--

“Your favorite lunch in New York.” Noah finished her sentence. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”

Lilly hopped out of the SUV and pulled her purse on her shoulder, “What?” She looked back at Noah who stood on the sidewalk, his hand sticking out towards her. His lips pouted at her and he wiggled his fingers, “Hold my hand, baaaabe.”

Lilly took two steps back and grabbed his hand. His smile grew and he squeezed her fingers, leading her inside. Lilly grabbed onto his arm with her opposite hand, it was their first intentional public display of dating and her nerves quickly hit her.

“What’s wrong?” He looked down at her as they waited for a table.

Lilly looked up at him, biting on her lip. He gently grabbed her chin and lead her mouth to his, kissing her quickly, “Nothing.” She smiled, “Nothing’s wrong. Everything is... perfect.”

[thebluesideofmyworld]

Emotions: Care - A Solangelo Fic

Summary: care (v): 1. to feel concern or interest 2. to be interested in someone and want them to be well and happy

Word Count: 2800 words || Rating: Teenage and Up Audience || Read on AO3 

***

Nico just could not take it any longer. Will had been overworking himself again. And Nico hated that. He hated how Will’s smile looked hollow. How his eyes looked empty. And most of all, Nico hated how Will blamed himself, how Will kept on carrying this guilt for not being a more useful demigod.

Because it was not true. It was totally not true.

Will might not be the best in sword fighting. He might feel like he wasn’t as good in archery as well as what an Apollo camper should be. But Nico would fight anyone who would dare to even think that Will was useless.

But it was Will himself who kept on saying that he wished he had had a more useful power, anything more useful than just healing power.

Well, Nico didn’t want to fight him.

But at the same time, it hurt him to see how Will felt so low like that.

So Nico decided that he needed to do something. And that’s what he told Austin and Kayla when they were hanging out in the infirmary’s front office.

“I want to take Will out. To somewhere nice.”

Kayla and Austin both turned their heads to Nico. Nico himself was too busy thinking about this vague plan that started to form in his head as he read the article in the magazine. He didn’t even see how Austin and Kayla exchanged looks, as he skimmed the list of places that someone could go in New York City. After a few seconds passed by, he realized that neither Austin nor Kayla responded. He lifted his gaze up from the magazine, and found both of Will’s half-siblings staring at him with a weird look in their eyes.

Nico’s eyes darted from Austin to Kayla.

“What?” He asked.

Austin and Kayla exchanged looks again before they stared at Nico. But it was Kayla who spoke first.

“What do you mean you want to take him out? Why?”

Nico let out a huff and closed the magazine. He threw it to the desk, then he crossed his arms over his chest. With his legs propped on the desk, crossing on the ankles, he balanced the chair that he was sitting on two legs, leaning against the wall.

“Will has been overworking. Again. He needs a break.”

Austin raised his eyebrows while Kayla lifted a hand up, palm facing Nico. “Wait a second. So when you said that you want to take Will out, what was in your mind exactly?”

Nico shrugged his shoulders. “Just like what I said. I want to take him out so he can have some good time to relax. To take his mind off from all the stress.”

“I thought you are taking him out for a-“

Austin was cut mid-sentence by Kayla who elbowed him on the rib.

Nico furrowed his eyebrows but after a second of strange coughing, Austin continued his sentence. “I mean, I thought you were also going to take us too!”

Kayla’s eyes widened as Nico stared at Austin.

Well, yeah, Austin, Kayla and him had become closer for the last few weeks, ever since those three days in the infirmary. It wasn’t something unusual for all of them do whatever together. But somehow, Nico kind of wanted to spend the time with just Will.

And yes, Nico could provide some justification for that. His main reason for taking Will out was to take Will’s mind off from the stress of his work in the Infirmary. What if Austin and Kayla started talking about infirmary-related things? What if Austin and Kayla, in any way, did something that only made Will regret not being in the infirmary? What if Austin, Kayla and Will had this inside joke that only the Apollo kids would understand, and then they would-

Nico scratched the back of his ear. “Well, you know. That would be nice. But, I mean,” Nico said and paused to clear his throat. “I mean, if all of you, are taking a break at the same time…Who would be in charge of the Infirmary? And your cabin?”

Nico didn’t know why he felt the tips of his ears were burning. And the amused look that Austin had didn’t make it any better.

“Yeah, sure,” Austin said, giving him a half-nod with a small smirk on his lips. “Whatever you say, dude.”

“That’s actually make sense,” Kayla said. “I’m pretty sure that one of the reasons why Will wouldn’t want to leave the camp, was him over thinking about his responsibilities in the camp. But we can handle it, right Austin?” Kayla turned her head to Austin, who gave them a thumb up.

“Yeah. We’ll take care of the infirmary and the cabin. You take Will out, dude. Go entertain him.”

“Well, that settles it then,” Nico said. A feeling of relief washed over him.

“Where are you going to take him?” Kayla asked.

Nico sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. He brought his chair back to the normal position.

“I’m not sure yet,” he said. “What do you guys think? Where should I take him?”

Kayla shrugged her shoulders. “Lunch or dinner sounds nice. And Will is not that picky about food. Just take him to somewhere fancier than McDonalds, and he’ll be happy.”

Nico nodded. The vague idea in his head started to get clearer. He leaned forward to grab a pen and one of the small yellow post-it on the desk.

“So, a nice meal,”  he said as he was scribbling the words lunch/dinner on the post it. He tapped the pen on his chin. “What else? What other things that you think can make Will feel more relaxed?”

“You can take him to see a movie. Either before or after the movie,” Kayla said. “I would suggest you to do it before you have your meal, though. So you can talk about the movie during the meal.”

“That’s a great idea,” Nico said, scribbling the word movie on his list. He looked up at Austin and Kayla. “Do you guys have recommendation on the movie?”

“I know Will has been wanting to watch 'La La Land' for a while,” Austin offered his idea. “I know that it might not be the kind of movie that you like-“

Nico waved his hand dismissively as he jotted down the title of the movie. “It’s fine. As long as it’s something that he likes, I’m okay with that.”

With his eyes fixed on his list, Nico didn’t see the way Austin and Kayla exchanged glances of amusement.

“Any other ideas? Movies? Places to go? Anything?” Nico looked up again at the two Apollo kids.

Austin had a small teasing smirk on his lips. “You’re really taking this seriously, aren’t you?”

A strange heat rushed inside Nico as he crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned against the backrest of his chair,  schooling his face into a nonchalant expression.

“Of course I do. I care about Will. He’s my friend, and I hate seeing him all stressed out like that.” He glared at Austin and Kayla. “You two supposed to care too! He’s your brother!”

Austin snorted before he answered. “Hey, we’ll be taking care of the Infirmary and Cabin 7 while you’re taking him out!”

Nico rolled his eyes, but he looked back to his list.

“You know, even though he’s often being nosy about eating healthy food, Will can never say no to ice cream. It’s like one of his guilty pleasures,” Kayla suggested.

“Really?”

Kayla hummed as she nodded. “Or, maybe frozen yogurt. Probably it will make him feel less guilty because he would consider it to be a bit healthier than ice cream.”

“I’ve never had frozen yogurt before,” Nico said.

“Then maybe it’s time for you to try some,” Kayla said.

“Well, yeah. But do you think Will would like it?”

Kayla laughed. “Sure. Don’t worry about it. Just remind him that frozen yogurt has less sugar and fat than ice cream, and he wouldn’t say no.”

“Okay,” Nico said, adding frozen yogurt into his list.

He studied his list, started planning the day out.

“Do you think the Hephaestus cabin would let me borrow their laptop and use the internet connection they have?” Nico asked them again. “I need to do some planning,” he said, brushing his hair from his forehead.

“Sure,” Kayla said, standing up from the chair. “I can go there with you.”

“Cool!” Nico stood up from his chair. He slid his list and the pen into the pocket of his jacket as he quickly followed Kayla who already walked to the door.

“Yeah. Sure. Just leave me all alone here while you go planning your date, di Angelo,” Austin said, more like mumbling to himself.

Nico was already too far away to hear it.

And even if he heard it, he was already too excited with the plan to care about what Austin just said.

***

It was after lunch on Thursday when Nico marched to the table where Apollo kids were sitting. Will was standing up from the bench, ready to leave the dining pavilion when he saw Nico.

A smile light up his face, even though Nico could still see faint shadows below his eyes that looked a bit tired.

“Hey, Nico! What’s up?”

“Can we talk?”

Will raised up his brows, clearly surprised.

“Yeah. Sure,” Will said, even though he sounded unsure. He glanced at his siblings who started leaving the table. A few of them were stealing glances at Will, looking curious. But Kayla quickly jumped off the bench, and herded the younger kids to walk out of the dining pavilion, giving instructions for them to follow her to the Arts and Crafts Centre where they would have their next camp activity.

Nico turned his head to the group of Apollo campers that were leaving the pavilion, and caught Austin smirking at him. Austin winked, and gave him a thumb up before quickly joined his siblings.

“Uh… Where do you want to talk?”

Nico turned his head back to Will.

“Here is fine,” Nico said, slumping himself down on the bench. Following him, Will sat back to bench, the wooden table separate them.

“What’s your plan for tomorrow?” Nico asked.

For the second time, Will’s brows raised up in surprise. But then he shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing in particular. My shift tomorrow at the infirmary started at-“

“Cancel it.”

Will froze. He stared at Nico, his blue eyes were wide. He blinked, then he asked Nico.

“What?”

Nico folded his arms on the table, and leaned forward a little.

“Cancel your afternoon shift in the infirmary. You’re going out tomorrow. With me. To New York City.”

Two or three heartbeats passed in silence before Will finally said something.

“What?”

Nico huffed.

“I said, we’re going for a day out tomorrow. To New York City. You and me.”

“But… The infir-“

“Austin would be the one taking charge in the infirmary tomorrow. And Kayla will take care of the Apollo cabin.”

“But they-“

“It’s about time for them to do it, Will. You need to learn how to share responsibilities. It’s not just good for you, it’s good for them too.” Nico cut Will again.

“What would-“

“I’ve asked Chiron and he gave us permission to.”

Will blinked.

“How would-“

“Jules-Albert will pick us up. So you don’t have to worry about me using shadow travel, and we’ll get back to the Camp before the curfew.”

Will stared at Nico with confusion in his blue eyes. After two or three second passed without Will saying anything, Nico started to shift uncomfortably.

“But, why?”

Nico took out a deep breath and let it out in a long exhale. “Will, you’ve been working a bit too hard. You need a break. That’s why I am taking you out tomorrow.”

Will held his gaze at Nico, like he was trying to process what Nico just told him.

“So…you’re…taking me out so I can have a break?”

Nico gave Will a small smile that he hoped was an assuring one. “Yeah. That’s the main intention. So you can catch a break and relax.”

“Why?”

Nico raised an eyebrow at Will. “Why not? Everyone deserves a break, Will. You deserve some time to relax and do things that you enjoy.”

Will shook his head. “No, I mean. Why you’re doing this?”

“Because I care about you, Will. You’re my best friend, and I hate to see you not taking care of yourself.”

There was a mix of emotions on Will’s face. Will looked confused, surprised, and his cheeks were blushing. But for a fleeting second, Nico thought he saw something that almost looked like a slight disappointment. But perhaps it was just the lights playing trick or nothing but Nico’s imagination, because it was already gone now.

“Are you sure?” Will asked once again.

“I’m sure, Will. I’ve already had everything planned out for tomorrow.”

The tips of Will’s lips were curling up slightly, forming a shy smile.

“Oh,” Will said. He looked away for a second as he tucked some rebellious strands of his hair to the back of his hair. When he looked back at Nico, he had a shy smile and the look in his blue eyes was soft.

For a second, Nico felt strangely breathless.

Will nodded. “Okay,” he said, almost whispering, like he himself still couldn't believe it.Without even thinking, Nico smiled back at him. He didn’t know why but it was like his heart was jumping around in his chest.

“Great,” he said. “So, tomorrow? At 2? So you still have some time after lunch if you want to…you know, get ready or anything.”

“Cool,” Will said. “Should we meet at the-“

“I’ll pick you up at your Cabin.”

Will’s mouth left opened for a second, then he coughed a little. Nico felt heat creeping in on his cheeks as he cleared his throat.

“I was the one asking you-“ he paused and cleared his throat again. “I mean, this was my idea? So I guess… Somehow it only feels right for me if I pick you up at your cabin? Then we can walk to where Jules Albert will be waiting…” Nico paused, peeking up at Will.

Will was biting his lower lip, like he was trying to hold back a smile.

“Okay then,” Will said. “I’ll be.. uhmm… waiting in my cabin.”

“Great,” Nico said, knowing for sure that he was grinning but at the same time, he felt like he couldn’t care less.

“So… I need to go to the Infirmary now,” Will said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, yeah. Sure,” Nico said, standing up from the bench. “And I have a sword-fighting class to teach.”

Nico slid his hands into the pocket of his jacket. He shifted his weight to his heels. “So. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Will’s smile was soft and for a second, Nico thought of how he liked it so much when Will smiled like that.

“Yeah,” Will said, nodding as he rubbed the side of his neck. “Tomorrow.”

“Great,” Nico said. ���Tomorrow. At 2. I’ll pick you up. At your cabin.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“So. Uh. Bye, Will. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Will let out a laugh and finally, after it’s been gone for days, the light in his eyes came back, twinkling as he smiled at Nico.

(Gosh, Nico just like it so so very much when Will smiled like that at him.)

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow, Neeks.”

Nico turned on his heels, and walking away from the table with wide steps. When he reached the doorway, he turned around to look at Will. Will was still sitting on the bench. His elbow was on the table, propping his chin as he was watching Nico. When he saw Nico looking at him, he smiled, and raised his other hand to give Nico a small wave. Nico waved back at him. Then he turned around, and walked out of the pavilion.

Nico was feeling a bit giddy as he made his way to the sword fighting arena. He had tomorrow all planned out, and he could not even lie to himself about how excited he was about it. He could not wait to take Will out, could not wait to make Will relax and have some great time.

Because at the moment, there was nothing that Nico wanted more other than to see that genuine smile lighting up Will’s face back. Just thinking about how tomorrow would make Will feel happy already gave Nico a pleasant warm feeling inside of him.

He just wanted to make Will happy.

Because Nico cared about Will. So so very much.

***

Author’s notes:

Comments and feedbacks are always loved!

I feel guilty that it took quite a while for me to update this. So really, i even feel more guilty to tell you this. It might even take longer for me for the next update. I am at the very last stages of my degree now. My professor is reviewing the draft of my dissertation (that has been sitting on his desk since... oh, i don't know, November 2017?), and since the deadline to have a defense if I want to graduate this semester is on April 20, let me just say that the next few weeks would be...intense, to say the least. And even after that, I still have to deal with moving back to my country so I need to deal with packing and paper works and basically, stuff... So yeah. You get the idea. I will try to write another chapter for the other Solangelo fic that I have on-going right now (the Musician!AU one) but then after that, I'm sorry to say that it might take a few weeks before I finally update my fics. But don't worry, I am not going to abandon my fics. Honestly, at this point, fics and my football teams are the only things that keep me sane. So yeah. Once again, I apologize for this.

Also, on a side note, regardless of whether it's healthier or no, I personally like frozen yogurt more than ice cream. I think Nico would prefer Gelato, though. He's Italian, after all

[calliecuster]

BASICS

Full Name: calamus joseph custer

Meaning of Name: his name means “cane,” “grass,” or “reed.”

Nickname: callie

Birth Date: june 10th

Astrological Sign and Details: he’s a gemini! he believes very much in astrology and checks his horoscope every day.

Birth Place: he was born in tchulla, mississipi, in the local hospital.

Age: 21

Nationality: american

Race: mixed white

Hair Color: brunette

Hair Style: wears it long, frequently putting it in complicated styles. he’s been growing it out for years and it reaches about mid-back by now. it’s his pride and joy, and loves to play with it and pamper it. buns and braids are favorite styles.

Distinct Features of Face: he has a somewhat rectangular face, and is naturally pretty, with a greek nose, defined brow, and deep-set brown eyes. high cheekbones and clear skin. he has a very small scar on the right side of his lip.

Glasses or Contacts: he doesn’t have either, and never has, but he DEFINITELY needs them.

Eye Color: deep brown.

Skin Tone: pale peach.

Scars or Distinguishing Marks: he has track-mark scars on his wrists, and heavy scarring on his upper thighs and butt. his right ear-lobe is scarred.

Disabilities: he has undiagnosed depression, anxiety, and PTSD, as well as having substance abuse issues, but he muddles through regardless.

Build or Body Type: tall and slender, with a nice build, slim waist, and decent muscles. he has long legs and a nice silhouette; overall, he’s a very attractive person, and he’s quietly proud of this, despite the fact that he doesn’t have very much confidence in himself.

Height: 6’0”

Weight: 189

Speech Patterns: though he’s trying to wean himself off of it, callie still has a very strong and noticable southern accent.

Tag Words: ‘you know?’ ‘puh-leaseeeee’ ‘gosh’ or ‘gee’ or ‘goodness.’ never takes the lord’s name in vain.

Gestures: he always plays with his hair, especially when he’s nervous, while he’s talking.

Weakness: is very easily guilted. loves ice cream. you can tempt him with drugs and sex just like that.

FAMILY AND CHILDHOOD

Mother: his mother is a woman named gracie custer. she dropped out of high school and married her boyfriend when she got pregnant at the age of sixteen; an uncommon occurrence where she lived. though she is a sweet woman, and hard-working, she has a hard time finding her own path and has a habit of allowing others to decide things for her, such as her husband. she was raised with the rigid rules of the Bible Belt, and lives by them rigorously in many ways that are unhealthy. despite this, she is kind and giving, but easily flustered and annoyed as well. she loves babies, but struggles to handle all her children in the small space which they live. she works at a local corner store. she loved her son, Calamus, but largely sat idly by whenever he was beaten, and often told him that he was ‘asking for it’ and wouldn’t have to take whippings if he just ‘followed the rules.’

Father: calamus’s father is a man named hank custer, who works in construction. he is not very in touch with his emotions, and is an incredibly hard-working and proud man. he values appearance, obedience under god, and doing things correctly, and he and his oldest son never got along. what was initially just conflict and discipline eventually grew to serious abuse as calamus got older and more bold, and he would frequently beat callie growing up, until calamus ran away from home at the age of sixteen .

Family Finances: living under the poverty line; lived in a trailor home, paycheck-to-paycheck, with food stamps.

Birth Order: callie was the oldest of seven. he has a younger brother named jethro, three youngest sisters named elseth, november, and serafina, a little brother named clyde, and an infant sister named patience.

Other Close Family: n/a

Best Friend: callie spent most of his childhood as the ‘ringleader’ or a small group of neighborhood boys, who would often spend all their time together getting into mischief and entertaining themselves in the trailer park. this group included calamus custer, who was undeniably the leader of the group. he was often the one who called the shots, and the rest of the boys often spent their time jumping to callie’s defense and helping him out. he spend most of his time with them, in order to avoid going home. it also included elijah jeans, who calamus often felt he related to the most in the group. like callie, he liked a lot of things that boys weren’t supposed to, like nice clothes and theatre. callie and elijah would spend long hours watching videos or movies on the internet in secret, and gushing about it and the outfits and the music later. if elijah was gay, however, he didn’t figure it out until calamus left. maximilian o’connor could climb higher, run faster, and jump farther than anyone else in their group. it was a common activity to try to out-do max, but no one could ever quite managed it. he was seemingly good at every sport he touched, and everyone always fought over got to have him on his team whenever they played anything. callie usually settled this by hoarding him to himself. finn tosh was probably the quietest of their little group, and wasn’t quite as rowdy as everyone else, but callie kind of liked that. it made him easy to talk to, and it made it more special when he was coaxed into participating. he had a beautiful singing voice, and callie always tried to convince him to let him film it. he only agreed once, right before callie left home. thaddeus mcmarren was the youngest out of everyone, and he often followed callie around like he was star-struck. he lived with his aunt and uncle after his mother died of overdose, and with a huge gaggle of cousins, and didn’t really get very much attention at home. since callie related to this, he and the rest of the boys always made sure plenty of eyes were on thaddeus, especially when he needed it. the two would walk and talk together to avoid going home often. if anyone was callie’s ‘second-in-command,’ it was asher tingsley. he had a lot of the same charm and enthusiasm that calamus did, and the same fire. he got angry easy and was always ready to put it all on the line and fight for his friend’s sakes, and was the one who spent the most hours in detention with callie, even though they all had their fair share. every couple of nights, callie would sleep over at the house of miles mobius. he had the nicest house and the nicest parents, and there was a beat-up futon in his room where calamus could sleep. callie remembers staying up late with milo and just talking a lot about things. about school. about what they were gonna do when they got older. about the things they loved and the things that scared them. seth ways and callie together always equaled trouble, because they always came up with the most reckless and awful and horrible ideas together. in chemistry, they would start fires. when they were wandering around the local dump, they would also start fires. one time, in seth’s house, they started a fire. there were a lot of fires, actually. and lucas hughs… he was the first boy callie really liked. i mean, he knew he was gay for a long time, but lucas, he really LIKED. and he was his first kiss, too. but lucas didn’t feel the same way, so callie moved on. regardless, they were incredibly close friends, and they usually spent hours talking together, sitting together, and trying to avoid going home. they liked a lot of the same things, and had a lot of the same thoughts. they always both said that one day, they would move to new york together and share an apartment. it didn’t turn out that way. callie sometimes thinks he might miss lucas the most. but he misses everyone a lot. he hasn’t seen or heard from any of them since he left mississipi at sixteen. his life has been a bit too much of a mess since then for him to play down any roots or make any real friends, and he’s only just beginning to spread out his wings in lockwood.

Other Friends: besides his little group, for the most part, callie didn’t get along with his peers growing up. he was more commonly bullied and ostracized, and he had a lot of trouble socializing once he made it to new york, too, due to his circumstances.

Enemies: n/a?

Pets: never

Home Life During Childhood: callie was born into a family living beneath the poverty line in the deep south, being raised on a lot of values that are common in the bible belt. obedience to god, valuing one’s family, working hard, respecting your elders, etc. etc. growing up, calamus didn’t have the same interests as a lot of other boys his age. he loved the idea of having long, beautiful hair, wearing his mother’s make-up and clothes, dancing, and singing. he liked things like trucks and exploring the woods and making things blow up and racing, too. but no one ever worried about that. the more prominent these interests became, and the more his bold personality began to show, the more his family tried to squash it down. his father in particular, a man who highly valued hard work, obedience, and image, often clashed with his eldest son. he frequently punished him for being too feminine, for shaming their family, for not working hard enough, and anything else that happened to piss him off, and calamus was no stranger to neither his belt nor the back of his hand growing up. calamus was naturally very charismatic and charming, and surprisingly, didn’t have a difficult time making friends in his neighbourhood. while he faced a fair deal of bullying and discrimination at school over the years, he built up a small “following” of boys who lived in the same trailer park as him, and were more open-minded than their parents. he spent most of his time wandering the streets with them and sleep over at their houses. they were close-knit. they would protect each other even at self-sacrifice, laugh and play together, and go along with calamus’ whims. doing complicated hair tutorials from Youtube with the blonde locks that calamus had been passionately growing out since he was small, recreating music videos, exploring the local dump and racing through the town. this was what protected him and kept him going for a very long time, and what made him stay, despite everything else that happened. his family, the church, the troubles at school. this only ended in him getting in more trouble at home, where there always seemed to be a new excuse to beat him.

What Did His, Her or Their Bedroom Look Like: for a while growing up, calamus shared a room with his younger brother, jethro. the two of them lived in a small bedroom of the trailer that they lived, with just enough room for two twin beds. it was a bit small and it was a pain to share with jethro, because the two of them never got along, but at least it was a room with space to put his things and a door and a bed. once his youngest brother, clyde, was born, and got old enough that his parents didn’t want him in their room anymore, clyde got calamus’s bed, and he was basically banished to the living room. he slept on the couch and kept his things in rubbermaid tubs in the living room. 

Any Sports or Clubs: not really! he spent most of his time with his little group of friends, but didn’t participate in much else.

Favorite Toy or Game: calamus’s favorite things growing up were his hot wheel cars, and his mother’s makeup, when he could get into it. when he did the latter, however, he was always in a TON of trouble afterwards.

Schooling: calamus went to the local public school, like most kids in the area did. callie had a lot of troubles; most kids at school didn’t care for him, and a lot of his teachers didn’t hide their distaste, either. he got in trouble a lot at school. he missed class frequently, either because he was staying home to help watch his younger siblings, or because he didn’t want to put up with the teasing and just skipped. as a result, he was usually failing most of his classes. he decided very early on that he was probably just stupid, and it wasn’t worth trying in class.

Favorite Subject: science

Popular or Loner: a little bit of both! he was definitely popular with certain kids, but not with a lot of others.

Important Experiences or Events: when Calamus was freshly sixteen, he and his father had a severe altercation after they found out that callie had secretly pierced their right ear some time ago, typically hidden by his long hair. by the end of the night, calamus had a split lip, a limp, and a buzzcut. leaving their friends behind was the hardest thing calamus ever had to do, but it was at this point that they decided that they couldn’t stand living in the same tiny town with nothing on the horizon and no adults caring about what went on at home. he hitch-hiked his way out of town, new york bound, and didn’t look back. once he was in new york, he bounced around from shelters to couches to the streets for several years, before he was finally able to get a job and save up enough to get a tiny apartment. he has only recently saved up enough to enroll at lockwood.

Health Problems: insomnia, substance abuse, frequently gets migraines due to his lack of vision correction.

PERSONAL

Bad Habits: when he gets nervous he’ll chew on the ends of his hair, flinch, make himself small, back himself up against the wall or try to find the nearest escape route. he hoards things like there’s no tomorrow, in case he needs them. over-drinks and still dabbles with drug use, though he’s trying to break the habit.

Good Habits: tries to eat good food, is a penny-pincher, never late to anything, is always cleaning his apartment and himself, almost obsessively.

Best Characteristic: his optimism.

Worst Characteristic: his drama and lack of confidence.

Worst Memory: the time he was beaten for piercing his ear before he ran away from home. everything after that was awful, too, but the realization that his father didn’t care for his mental or emotional wellbeing at all, and him and the rest of his family and all their neighbors would always value appearances more than him, stung worst of all.

Best Memory: callie’s fondest memory is a tie; between hanging out with his roving gang of friends back in mississpi, after a very long fall afternoon. they were all piled atop a junk car like seals on a rock in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by this endless field and watching the sunset while they talked about nothing in particular. the other contender is the first time he got his baby sister, patience, to fall asleep in his arms. typically, she would only cry or fuss or stay up if anyone but her mother held her. but when he laid down and put her on his chest and she drifted off, that was one of the warmest feelings Calamus ever had.

Proud of: his physical appearance and ability to keep going when things are hard.

Embarrassed by: his scars, his substance use, details of his past.

Driving Style: he never learned how to drive!

Temperament: typically fairly even, more likely to shy from conflict than push it.

Attitude: positive and tenacious.

Fears: pain and going backwards in progress.

Phobias: he has a very real fear of physical pain and being trapped, of making others angry with him or disappointing those around him, and of embarrassing himself or his friends.

Secrets: heroin addiction and his previous homelessness. he doesn’t like to discuss it; it embarrasses him.

Regrets: he has a LOT of regrets. sometimes, he regrets running away. sometimes, he regrets waiting so long. sometimes, he regrets his lack of education. he regrets leaving his friends. he regrets his choices. he regrets getting involved in drug and sex, he regrets trusting the people he did, he regrets the things he did to get arrested…

Feels Vulnerable When: he shares details about himself, when he’s in a tradition classroom, or when he’s nude.

Pet Peeves: people who are too loud when it’s not necessary, people who take charge even when they don’t know what they’re doing, baby boomer customers.

Motivation: he never wants to be a homeless drug addict again. he just wants to live a comfortable life.

Short Term Goals and Hopes: to pass all his classes, settle down at school, and manage to keep up on payments.

Long Term Goals and Hopes: to settle down with someone and have a nice house and a small family, and just have… nice, basic things that people dream about.

Sexuality: very gay

Exercise Routine: he likes to go running around the neighborhood a lot.

Day or Night Person: he’s more of a day person, but often ends up staying up for a lot of the night.

Introvert or Extrovert: extrovert.

Optimist or Pessimist: optimist.

LIKES AND PREFERENCES

Music: a weird combination of flashy, catchy pop and heavy death metal.

Books: the harry potter books.

Foods: he likes almost all food, and will basically never turn anything down, but southern comfort food is a favorite.

Drinks: anything fruity and sweet and boozey.

Animals: he loves dogs and horses.

Color: blue

Clothing: he likes old band-tee-shirts, and anything swishy and flowly.

Jewelry: he doesn’t really wear any, but he has a few pretty, simple stud earrings that he’s collected over the years that are important to him.

Games: he loves any sort of card game.

Websites: twitter

TV Shows: he likes riverdale a lot.

Movies: harry potter!

Greatest Want: money

Greatest Need: sobriety

LIFESTYLE

Favorite Possession: his apartment itself. having previous been homeless for several years, just having a place to call his own is incredibly precious to him.

Most Cherished Possession: a small cats-eye marble that lucas gave him before he left home.

Town or City Name: new york

Married Before: no

Significant Other Before: no

Children: no

Relationship with Family: estranged; ran away when he was sixteen, and hasn’t had any contact with them since.

Salary: 24k/year

Other Income: has three different jobs; barista, waiter, and dog walker.

Dream Career: hair stylist or makeup artist

Dream Life: comfy, cozy, shared.

Love Life: mostly just hook ups.

Sexual Turn Ons: loving sex, biting, getting his hair pulled, being praised.

Sexual Turn Offs: being hit in any way, shape, or form, or being bossed around too much.

Hobbies: singing, dancing, doing complicated hair styles, exploring, sciencey things, watching comedy shows, sewing, embroidery, and running.

Guilty Pleasure: he really likes to dress up and try on skirts and dresses, but he tends to keep this on the down-low. also ice cream.

Talents or Skills: he’s really good with hair and make-up, and he’s a really good dancer, too. very good with babies.

Intelligence Level: he’s decently smart, but doesn’t believe that he is, and has had very little education in his lifetime.

[marjaystuff]

Elise Cooper interviews Megan Crane

Alaskan Force Series

Megan Crane

Berkley Pub.

The “Alaskan Force Series” by Megan Crane is riveting, suspenseful, and combined with romance.  What makes this series a stand out is the relationship and banter between the characters, with the mixture of honorably discharged special ops heroes, their dangerous missions, and the rugged Alaskan wilderness. They insert themselves into difficult and dangerous situations by protecting the vulnerable and rescuing those who need it.  Below is a synopsis of each of the books with the most recent first.

In Delta Force Defender, Isaac Gentry, an ex-Marine, who grew up in Alaska heads the Alaska Force team.  He has a love hate relationship with the snarky owner of the only restaurant in town, Caradine Scott, who has a past life that has been kept secret. Her past demons seem to have come back to haunt her after her café was blown up. After realizing that she cannot battle the criminal elements on her own she asks Isaac and company to help get her life back.  

In Sergeant’s Christmas Siege, Templeton Cross, ex-Delta Ranger, is assigned to help in the investigation by Alaskan State Trooper Kate Holiday. They butt heads as Cross is willing to bend the rules of law, something Holiday, ‘a by the rule’s person,’ is unwilling to do. Yet, as the pressure mounts, and Christmas draws closer, it’s a given that they must work together to make sure someone is not going to get hurt.  As time passes, both realize that they have so much in common, including having to face up to their dysfunctional families.

In Sniper’s Pride, Griffin Cisneros, ex-Marine sniper, is assigned to rescue Atlanta socialite Mariah McKenna. She realizes her cheating vindictive husband would rather have a dead wife than a divorce. Afraid that he will succeed in killing her next time, Mariah goes to Grizzly Harbor to hire the Alaska Force special operatives to help her survive.

In Seal’s Honor, Blue Hendricks, ex-Navy SEAL, is asked by his former childhood neighbor, Everly Campbell, to help her. She witnessed her roommate’s murder, and she’s afraid she’s next. Somewhat reluctantly, Blue agrees to help her, and they head back to Chicago to find the culprits.

Elise Cooper:  How did you get the idea for the series?

Megan Crane:  I was watching this reality show about Special Forces guys who ran this contest to see if someone could make it through the basic training they had to go through.  It then came to me to write about a band of brothers’ story.  BTW:  It originally was not set in Alaska.

EC:  In all the books Alaska seems to play a role?

MC:  It is so majestic, the Last Frontier, and far away.  I am so glad we changed the setting because I think it makes the series better.  A friend was the source for me, since she used to live there.  I also used the Internet for facts and to get a sense of being there.  I put in this quote in book 1, “It looks like a postcard…The village was a jumble of color, bright against the habitually gray Alaskan skies.  It all gleamed in the bit of midday sunshine that lit up the protected cove.”

EC:  How would you compare and contrast each heroine?

MC:  The first two heroines are women in peril who seek out Alaskan force to help them.  Kate, the third heroine, was not at all impressed with them and thought of them as vigilantes. Caradine, the heroine of the last book, is a character that has been in all the novels.  She tries to keep everyone at arm’s length. I think all the heroines are smart, tough, athletic, somewhat stubborn. Caradine is definitely more grumpy, edgy, and prickly. She and Kate are feisty, and willing to do their own thing.  Neither are really warm and fuzzy.  

EC:  How would you compare and contrast each hero?

MC:  None of them would like to be called heroes.  They consider those who were lost in battle as the true heroes. They wish they could save the world and would risk their lives.  I think each of them are strong, intelligent, and intense. Isaac is in control and is a natural leader, Captain- Americanie. In the first book there was this quote, which shows their thinking, “Never apologize for things you are not sorry for.” I think this is a running theme because the book 2 quote is similar, “Life isn’t about making the right choice.  It’s about what you do after the bad ones blow up in your face.”

EC:  Something you incorporate in all the books is that each woman learned to help themselves?

MC:  I have had stuff in my past.  I started taking Israeli Martial Arts, which I put in all my books.  Some abused women feel they must be vigilant and are afraid what might happen to them or what did happen to them.  Having actual skills is very calming.  I now have a civilian instructor certification. Alaska Force helped to save the women, but with defense classes they learned to save themselves as well.

EC:  Is there a similarity between all the relationships?

MC:  In the first two books the heroines think of their protectors as superheroes.  The women get under their skin with their banter and teasing. The guys try to put distance between them, but realize their true feelings.

EC:  What about the last two books?

MC:  It is the opposite of the first two.  Templeton makes Kate feel that way, and Isaac makes Caradine feel that way.  The women are the ones who leave, who want to be in control of the relationship, and realize that the guys touched their heart.  Each thinks they are in control of their own emotions and environment, but are not.  With book 4, Caradine and Isaac had a tug of war going on.  They fell in love instantly, which she fought for a long time.  

EC:  There is a dog in the last book, Horatio?

MC:  He is a border collie.  Very smart.  I do not have one, but would want one. He is Isaac’s companion that shows a soft-side of him, but also Caradine.  At the end of the book he takes her side.  Horatio is not based on my dog, who is a pit-bull and lab mix that is very silly and loving.  

EC:  In the last book all the characters have page time?

MC:  I liked the two scenes, one where they “harass” Caradine and the other, the wedding between Blue and Emily. In this book, the former heroines hugged her and had her face that her armor was broken. The Caradine quote, “Please don’t tell me this is some horrible girlfriend thing.”  Then there was this quote, “Approximately seventeen ice ages later, when Caradine had died inside so many times she’d come back, haunted herself, and died again while still being hugged against her will.”

EC:  Next book?

MC:  It is called Special Ops Seduction and will be out in January.  The story is based around two Alaska Force members, Jonas Crow and Bethan Wilcox.  Both have a past with each other.  In this book they must pretend to be a couple.  This might be the last one.  Whereas the other books had the character leads traveling to a place in the Continental US, either Chicago, Atlanta, or Maine.  But this one has them traveling from California to Portugal to Canada.

THANK YOU!!