#the left has gone where i can't follow and it frustrates me to no end

[userautumn]

Watching the left disintegrate into nothing more than a group of people filled with unproductive, visionless rage has been very disappointing while being very interesting, and trying to inspire or see through the rage to an approximation of actionable vision is not unlike trying to dig answers out of a very dense, very thick brick wall.

If you're not mad, you're not paying attention. Okay I am angry, now what? No, you have to get angrier. Okay!!! I am mad! I'm really really angry! Our system is flawed and has hurt a lot of people, myself and my loved ones included. Now tell me what to do with my anger! Should I vote? No, voting doesn't work. The system is broken and can't be reformed. So what should i do?! We need a revolution. Right on! How do we make it happen? Who is in charge of leading the revolution? Who decides who is in charge and based upon what criteria are they making this decision? How do we mobilize the revolution across state lines? Most importantly, how do we mitigate the trickle down effect of the ensuing power vacuum so that the rest of the globe doesn't suffer as much? No, you're doing it wrong. You have to get MAD, madder than you've ever been before!! Okay. I am mad. Now what? We need a revolution. Sure. Well. Can I vote in the meantime to help improve the quality of life for people before the revolution starts? Oh looky here, we have another disgusting, liberal cuck. Don't you know that voting doesn't work? The system is broken. If you're not angry, you're not paying attention.

it's a rinse and repeat every goddamn time.

[lechemoon]

the one where spencer reid doesn't want to be just your friend

spencer reid x f reader

wc: ~1.8k

prompt: "i don't want to be your friend. i want to fall in love with you."

no warnings apply, however if i miss any please let me know :) additionally, if someone is able to identify the prompt list that the prompt is from, i would appreciate it! i can't seem to find the list </3

a/n: still on my slow rewatch, i haven't finished season 5 but i know for a fact that long-haired jesus reid is coming to an end, so this fic is for him specifically hehe

-

spencer shuts his mouth immediately, and regrets ever having the ability to even speak at all. the way you’re looking at him makes him want to curl up into himself.

“that was rude. all i asked was if you wanted to grab lunch.” you stuff your phone in your pocket aggressively, about facing the opposite direction from him. 

“wait, wait, wait.” he grabs you by the crook of your elbow, slightly yanking to keep you from walking away from him but not so much that you tip over and lose your balance. it’s now or never, and spencer will be damned if he lets you walk away without even trying to make you understand what he’s been trying to tell you.

you groan, and he hates that he can hear the frustration and confusion emitting from you. hates it because he knows how it feels- he’s been feeling it for months. along with this gnawing feeling in his stomach and a clawing feeling in his chest and an ache in his heart (but he’ll ignore that for now- he’s got things to do and words to say).

you move your free hand to run it through the top of your head, brushing any stray hairs from your face. you let out a quick breath from your mouth, and turn your head towards spencer. you make your body so that it’s still mostly facing away from him slightly. “what? you’re gonna explain why you’re suddenly just changing it up on me? being rude to me out of nowhere? if we can’t be friends right now then i don’t think there’s a reason for us to talk outside of work-“

“i don’t-!” he clears his throat because he doesn’t mean to raise his voice in the middle of the work day. his eyes scan the room quickly, and he finds himself thankful that most of the floor has gone out for lunch. those that are here still seem to have either not heard him or are choosing to ignore his outburst. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to shout… can we- can we talk somewhere more private?”

when you don’t show any signs of saying yes, he pulls out the big guns. releasing your arm, he takes hold of your hand instead. gently, unsure. his bottom lip juts out only slightly, just enough that he knows he’s sure you’ve seen it. and he’s sure, because your eyes land on his lips for a second. “please?”

“ugh, fine.” you shake your hand from his. “there’s no one in penelope’s office,” you say as you begin to walk in the direction of your coworker's office. you don’t bother looking back at spencer until your hand finds the door handle. “why are you still sitting? come on! i don’t have all day and i have to grab a snack after this.”

grabbing his bag and getting up from his chair, spencer makes his way (clumsily) to follow you out the door. “i can explain myself,” he says to your back while you both trek your way to penelope’s office.

he practically hears your eyes roll when you respond with, “i’m sure you can.” you turn left because you accidentally lead the both of you the wrong way, so now you’re taking the scenic route.

“i think we took the-“

“i know,” you cut him off, finally reaching penelope’s door. you open it and aren’t surprised you find it unlocked. neither of you are surprised to find that all the computer screens are locked as well. she wouldn’t be penelope if she didn’t secure her babies.

“okay, we have a few minutes before penelope enters her lair.” you turn to him, hands on your hips and tapping your foot impatiently. “well?”

it’s spencer’s turn to brush his fingers through his hair. he knew what he wanted to say before this- had a whole 20 second speech prepared that ended with a small lie of him not actually being hungry. why couldn’t he think of it now? 

i’m sorry. I’m not hungry right now so i didn’t want to get sandwiches with you.

i didn’t mean to tell you to leave me alone like that, or use that tone of voice. or to call you nosey.  

in fact, i don’t think i ever want you to leave me alone. i’d eat a hundred sandwiches if it meant spending lunch with you.

“spencer?”

when he takes a good look at you, he forgets everything he wanted to say. “u-uhm,” he bites his lower lip. “i-i’m sorry, i usually… i usually don’t forget what i want to say.” not a lie, not a truth. he has fragments of what he wants to say dangling in his brain, but no way to string them all together.

you smack your lips and cross your arms. “reid, really? you tell me to leave you alone, then you tell me to talk privately- why are you pulling my leg?”

it hits him when he remembers you saying if we cant be friends-

“i don’t want to be your friend,” he tells you directly, looking into your eyes. it takes everything in him not to break eye contact. it gets harder to not look away when you’re staring right back at him with eyes expectant. waiting. almost impatient looking.

and they change slightly. now he sees hurt, worry, sadness. your foot stops tapping. “you… you don’t want to be… friends?” you cross your arms, and spencer knows you’re getting defensive and closed-off. you’re getting ready to leave the room. 

but his hands find your upper arms and slides down them, releasing you from your knot and landing at your wrist. he turns them upward, and rubs his thumbs against them in small circles. “i-i don’t want to be just your friend,” he says again, but with more intention.

now he sees something new in you- confusion, curiosity. “just my friend?”

“not just your friend,” he repeats. “I feel like… no. i think i-i want to… to fall in love with you,” he says finally, and his face feels hot and his throat feels dry. 

shit, he thinks, that’s not what i was going to say. i didn’t mean to say love! like would have sufficed just fine!

what he should have said was that he liked you more than he would any other person, that you made him feel like he was floating or that he was flying.

spencer feels his stomach drop when you don’t respond to him right away, and he lets his hands begin to fall from your wrist. “that came out wr-“

but you grab his hands into your own before physical contact can even break. “you what?” 

“i mean- i did want to be your friend, i do want to be your friend it’s just that i,” he doesn’t know where his sentence is leading but he knows that he wants you to know that wanting to be with you wasn’t his intention at first. “i think… i think you’re great. you’re smart and you’re pretty, and sometimes i notice that you match your socks to your blouse- why are you looking at me like that?”

you're biting your bottom lip to hold back your smile, but the sparkle in your eyes and the crinkle at the corners give you away. you’re happy- nervous, but happy. at least, that’s what spencer speculates when he takes a look at you. 

“i feel like i should be mad at you,” you admit, letting go of his hands so that you can rub yours together. penelope’s cave is cold. “liking someone isn’t an excuse to snap at them the way you did to me earlier.”

“i know, and i’m so sorry-“

you cut him off again. “let me finish.” and his lips shut.

not knowing what to do with his now vacant hands, he stuffs them in his pockets and fingers the lint that has made its way into them. 

“do you know why i ask you out for lunch all the time?” you ask him, pointing one of your index fingers to his chest. 

spencer shakes his head. “because you… like the company and camaraderie?”

“i like your company,” the finger against his chest pushes in slightly, and you take a step back so you don’t have to continue to crane your neck at a weird angle to look up at him. “i like you.”

a confession, spencer thinks to himself, wasn’t on his list of things he expected to happen today. “me?” in attempts to keep a grin from forming, he purses his lips together. it doesn’t help, because now he’s grinning with his teeth in full display.

he tilts his head to the side in disbelief. “r-really?”

“yes, really!” a new third party squeals excitedly from behind. 

both you and spencer bring your attention towards the door. spencer shouldn’t be surprised to find penelope in her own doorway, but he is. and so it seems are you. 

penelope dances in, doing a happy little shake as she prances past the two of you to set her things and then herself down. neither of your eyes leave her as she settles herself in. spencer feels like his eyes are as wide as they can possibly be and he wonders if you’re feeling the same way, because when he looks at you he thinks that he’s sporting the same look of a deer caught in the headlights.

no one says anything. only the sound of a pastry being released from it’s parchment prison by penelope fills the room until you finally say, “how long have you been standing there?”

the tech beauty of the team rips a piece of her danish to pop it in her mouth and chews on it for a few seconds, exhaling happily when the taste finally hits her tongue. she swallows before she give you her answer. “i’ve been here since…,” she checks her naked wrist as if she were checking the time, and then looks up to smirk at spencer, “since the boy genius said he wanted to- what was it again, dr. reid?”

taken aback by being thrown into the conversation so suddenly, spencer stumbles on his words. “u-uhm, i uh, i said i-”

“ah that’s right,” penelope smiles, setting her pastry down and dusting her hands off. “you said you would like to fall in love with our dear friend here?” she points to you and winks. 

if spencer’s eyes could get any wider and if his face could find a darker shade of pink he knows they would. 

“so,” penelope crosses her legs and leans back in her chair. her eyes haven’t left you, and spencer is thankful that he doesn’t have to face the intensity he sees in penelope. “i see your dream’s coming true, love bug,” she says to you, and spencer sees you bite your thumbnail to try and hide your smile. 

you finally look at spencer, and he feels his stomach flutter. “i really, really like you spencer,” you say to him to finish off your interrupted conversation.

“oh yeah,” penelope adds, nodding excitedly, “she really does, doctor.”

-

a/n: thank you for reading <3

[catherinnn]

Jealousy and fears

THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS OF SEASON 3

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

summary: this is the scene where Sarah has to flirt with Topper to get him to help them get the cross, but instead of Sarah, reader is Topper's ex and JJ is her actual boyfriend and he has to control his jealousy. Plus, reader has to control her fear of losing JJ when the plan goes wrong.

words: 2.3k

“Honestly, the hardest part is gonna be security, all right? So most of the guys are gonna be at the rail yard” JJ states.

“Alright so, we'll need to find some place and guard it, maybe a little further down the line, like a whistle-stop” Pope responds.

“Yeah” Kiara agrees with the pair.

“You guys are getting ahead of yourselves, per usual. We don't have a way to transport the cross. What you think? On JJ's motorcycle?” Cleo says sarcastically.

“That's not my fault. Alright, all me” JJ responds to her.

“Okay, so other options…” Pope starts before Sarah interrupts him.

“Oh my god”

“Oh my god what?” Cleo asks.

“What” I ask and she points towards some behind me, on the top floor of the bar we’re in. We all turn around to the direction she’s pointing at and we see Topper talking with one of his friends.

“Oh god” I cringe and I lower a little on the chair I’m sited on, trying to avoid him seeing me. Topper was my ex-boyfriend before I left him for JJ. To this day he keeps texting me every day and calling every now and then, he truly didn’t know how to take a hint.

“Is that topper?” Pope asks and JJ rolls his eyes.

“Yup” Sarah answers.

“Why is he like, everywhere?” JJ says.

“Maybe he’s following you” Kiara tells me joking.

“Perfect. Hey, Sarah.” Pope starts.

“What?”

“I bet you topper has a way of transport the cross” he suggests.

“Actually pope's right. He does have a rig” she confirms.

“No” I say already knowing where they’re going with this.

“Yes”

“No, absolutely not”

“Yes, come on, you already got him whipped anyway so why don't you just take one for the team?” Sarah suggests.

“Wait, tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you are” JJ speaks.

“She could flirt with Topper a bit so he would give us his truck to transport the cross” Sarah confirms and he clenches his jaw in frustration.

“Come on JJ, you know it would work” Kiara tell him.

“Why does she have to be the one doing it?” he complains.

“He’s not gonna agree if we ask him, but if she does...”

“Sarah said it, she’s got him whipped, not us” Kiara explains.

“What do you say?” you ask him.

“I’m not really excited about the idea of my girlfriend flirting with another guy who’s literally in love with her” he jumps.

“I thought you would understand. Think about the circumstances, it’s about the treasure” Pope tells him.

“We can handle JJ, just go talk to him” Kiara says to you.

And as you go up the stairs and greet Topper, they all stay at the bottom of the stairs, close enough to watch but not so close that Topper would see them.

“I can’t watch this” JJ starts, “Actually I have to watch so I can go break his nose if he oversteps”

“Shut up and pay attention” Kiara demands.

“I just can't believe you're here, I texted and called. How are you? You okay?” Topper says.

“You know, Top, things are a little tough right now” you answer.

“Yeah, tough how?” he asks. You look over his shoulder to see your friends watching expectantly the scene. JJ has a straight face, clearly not enjoying this, you weren’t either.

“We’ve been after this… family heirloom of Pope’s which is why we were gone and we ended up losing it, and unbelievably there might be a chance that we could get it back tonight, in Wilmington” you start explaining and he looks at you with all of his attention nodding at every word you say.

“Okay, how can I help?”

“No, I can’t ask you to do that” you play dumb a little so it wouldn’t be too obvious why you were here.

“No, seriously”

“Topper, I feel like if I ask you I'd be- I don’t know, it’s just- you're such a giver, Topper, you're such a helper”

“That's just how I am, that's just the way I was raised. And either way, remember when I said I would do literally anything for you? Remember that?” he says.

“Yeah”

“I meant it” he says confidently and you start to feel bad about taking advantage of him. You look over his shoulder again at the group where you see JJ signalling you to hurry up. “When I say something I mean it”

“We could… really use your truck” you finally ask.

“My dad's truck? Oh my god, he would literally kill me, he’s like super careful with it"

“So are we, we're super careful”

JJ grimaces in annoyance at her.

“We’ll take such good care of it”

“You put me in a tough spot, I- I know I said I would do anything but…” he hesitates so I move closer to him, start caressing his shoulder softly and we share an intense look where I try to hide my fear of him trying to kiss me, or JJ having enough of this and punching him for getting too close. Or both, really.

“I'm so sorry about everything. I totally understand, you have no reason to help us” I play dumb again.

“Why do I feel like I'll regret this?” he says with a smile. I give him a big smile and hug him excitedly. I can see the guys celebrating quietly and JJ rolls his eyes and shakes his head trying (and failing) to hide his smile.

After arranging the plan right we all go to our places. I go with Topper and Sarah on the truck, JJ and Kie go on his motorcycle and Pope with Cleo go on the train.

Before getting in the car, JJ, Sarah, Kie and I wait for Pope to give us the signal that he is on the train.

“What’s taking him so long?” Sarah complains. We can see Topper pacing around the truck nervously, JJ gives me a look making fun of him and we both laugh. A few minutes later we see Pope up on the train and giving us the signal to move to the next part of the plan. JJ gives him a thumbs up.

“That’s it, we’re green” Kie confirms and then suddenly we hear the train horn blaring.

“What's happening” I ask confused.

“You hear that?” JJ asks too and we can hear brakes hissing and metal clanks

"Train's moving, train's moving" JJ confirms now.

“Shit, shit”

“Hurry up”

I run to the truck. “Hey” Topper says nervously.

“Do you have jumper cables in there?” I ask him.

“Do you have an idea that I am here involved in illegal activities?”

“I'm not even close to being okay with this”

"It’s not that illegal"

"Okay"

“Jumper cables? What are we- what we doing with these?”

"Topper, if you don't wanna go, its fine. We’ll take the truck"

The rest of the guys show up behind us.

“Hey, I just wanna make sure everyone here is okay ending up in federal prison” Topper says.

“If it gets to that, yeah, I'll do it for pope” JJ responds and I laugh with him. I get the cables from the truck and give them to JJ, he looks at me as if he’s asking me if I’m ready, and I nod at him.

After JJ and Kie get the traffic-lights to go red, the train is stopping. That’s our signal to drive to the train.

"What the hell are we doing right now, this is ridiculous" Topper complains. And then we get next to the door where pope was signalling us to park next to.

"Right here" Sarah and I go out of the car and up the train to help. "How’s it looking?"

“Still searching” Cleo tells us.

“You see it?” Pope asks her.

“Hey, this one says Cameron” she answers.

“This is it, this is the cross, this is it!” he jumps exited.

“Hey, hey, what are we doing here?” Topper shows up and asks us.

“We'll put this in your truck bed”

“That's gonna scratch the paint!”

“No, no, it's fine” I say even though I have no idea.

“You’ll be able to get a thousand paint jobs after we do this” Pope tells him.

“This thing right here?” he asks.

“Just help us spot it”

We start moving the heavy box with the cross in it towards the car.

“Topper help me!” I shout.

“Just push it this way, my dad's gonna kill me” he complains.

“Guide it, hurry up, let's go”

“Don't mess up the cross” Pope warns.

“Don't mess up the truck” Topper warns too.

“Stop! Hey, stop!” we hear an officer shout at us.

“Shit, we gotta go”

“Hold it right there!” He shouts again.

“Cops! Come on”

“The cops are coming, let's go!” We get the box on the truck and we get in the car.

“Push it, Chewie!” Pope yells from the back.

“Go!” Sarah tells him. He starts driving.

“How the hell can you live like this? You come from a good family” Topper tells me.

“Just drive!” I respond. He drives and passes the train.

“We got somebody on us” Topper warns.

“That’s JJ and Kie” Sarah confirms. JJ moves the motorcycle right next to the car.

“JJ! What is he doing?!” he asks me.

“I don't know” I say.

“Topper, keep going straight!” JJ shouts.

“Y'all be careful. Alright?”

“Topper hold it steady” I say.

“I'm trying!”

We see Kiara getting up on the bike and Pope trying to grab her.

"Kie! What are you doing?!" She jumps into the truck and Pope grabs her.

“Oh shit”

“Oh my god”

“Are you good? Did she-did she make it?” Top asks. I nod not being able to get words out from the adrenaline mixed with fear. I see JJ stopping the bike behind us, in front of the police car.

“Okay. Maybe he's just trying to get rid of the cops” Topper comments.

I can't take my eyes off of him, fearing his impulses until he throws a rock at the police car braking the window.

"He did it! They’re chasing him!" Pope shouts.

“Topper stop! Stop the truck” I ask him.

“I'm not stopping the truck”

The guys shout at him to stop the truck.

“We're going to get JJ!”

“Come on man!”

“I'm not going to jail for him, no chance!” He shakes his head.

“Stop the truck, please” I ask him quietly, my voice breaking. He sees the fear on my face and he agrees.

“All right, all right, damn it”

“Turn around”

“I'm not- I'm not going to jail”

“Topper look at me. They’re gonna arrest him, we can't leave him behind”

“Damn him, damn” He turns around and drives.

“Go faster, you need to go faster”

“I'm trying, I'm risking my whole life for this shit”

“It’s gonna be fine”

“Turn left!” Pope directs.

“No! I'm getting out of here” he states.

“Topper!” I take the steering weal off of him and turn it left.

“No way, he's up on the overpass” Sarah says and the next thing we see is the motorcycle falling off of the overpass right in front of us, getting absolutely destroyed. We all gasp we get out of the truck to run and look for him.

“J!” I say panting, “J! Where is he?!”

“Shit!”

“no, no, no, no”

“JJ?!”

I start crying. “Where is he?”

“Maybe he's up on the bridge” pope suggests.

“No, no, no” I start sobbing.

“I wish I could say I did that on purpose,” I hear his voice behind me. I get up and he looks right at me. “But that was the gnarliest power-slide I’ve ever done”

“You're alive!!” Pope shouts and hugs him. “Dude!”

“I know, I'm surprised too”

“Shit that was gnarly” Topper says.

Sarah pushes him and starts hitting him on the chest “Oh Jesus, Oh God” he complains. She hugs him tight. Kie goes after her and warns him that’s she’s going to kill him while she hugs him too.

“This is really nice and all but we should really get out of here” Cleo says.

“Yeah, yeah, let's roll” Topper agrees.

I don’t listen to them, I look at JJ with tears falling from my eyes still, I get closer to him and he looks at me waiting for my reaction.

“Don’t... don't ever do that again” he manage to say. He lowers his head without his eyes off of mine, his hands come to my waist but before he could get any closer we hear a cop shouting down at us.

“Hey, hey you kids don't move”

He grabs me and we start running to the truck.

“Stay right there! I said stay right there!” the officer shouts again. We get on the car quickly and Topper starts driving getting us out of there. Later we realized it was all for fucking nothing because the cross was fake, there wasn't any cross on the box.

After reassuring Pope that we will find the real one and thanking Topper, JJ and I go to my house where I sit on my bed grabbing my head trying to process everything that just happened.

JJ moves around my bedroom doing the same. “You realize it was all for fucking nothing, you- you had to flirt- I had to watch you flirt with that idiot for fucking nothing” he complains. I look at him as if he’s crazy.

“You do realize I thought you fucking died for a minute there, and all of that was for nothing too. I don’t fucking care about Topper! I thought I lost you, JJ!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry baby, I got down there as fast as I could and then everybody started hugging me and I just wanted to get to you, and then that fucking cop came. I’m sorry, I’m sorry it all happened that way” he hold me tight. “I love you, I’m sorry”

“I love you, I don’t know what I would have done without you” you try not to cry all over again.

“I’m fine, okay?” he asks and I nod, he kisses me and the rest of our night goes on holding each other tight as if it was the last time. Luckily, it wasn’t.

[gejo333]

An Unexpected Match VIII

Pt. 1 Pt.9

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary: It’s the day of the holiday party at your parent’s house…😱

No mature warning in this chapter.

Can’t believe I got another chapter out so fast! Pray that I keep up with this pace!🙏

I apologize for any grammar mistakes I missed!

Enjoy!🥰

Wc: 2.8k

———————————————————-

You scanned through the various clothes on the rack, trying to tone out the Christmas music playing over the speakers mixed with the various chatter of other people around you. You smiled when you spotted a beautiful spring dress you thought would be perfect for Gabi.

After buying it you walked over to the women's clothing where Stephanie was looking through skirts.

"Find anything cute?" You say as you look over the clothing rack.

"Sadly not." She pouted as she joined you on the other side as you both began to walk through the store.

"Do you have everything on your list?"

"One last thing. I've gotten everyone's gift. Just finished getting all of Miguel's and I just have one left for Gabi. It's this popular doll. It's from this new movie. This is the third store I've gone to to try and find it. I asked Miguel but he's had no luck either.

"You guys are such cute parents. I love it. Can't wait to earn the title Auntie Stephanie."

"Cute. I forgot to ask you this after the last barbecue, but did you tell Jack about me and Miguel? It's ok if you did, I know it's hard to keep secrets from someone your in a relationship with."

"Girl, I would never reveal a secret like that. Though Jack might be my boyfriend you are my bestie. But Jack did come to me and asked if I knew anything. He said he noticed the way Miguel looks at you. He said to me, 'he looks at her like she is the light of his life. The only person in the room.'"

"Do u think it's really noticeable to everyone?" You bit your lower lip as you give her a worried look.

"Nah, you know Jack is really good at reading people. You would know if everybody in the neighborhood knew." Stephanie chuckled.

"True." You chuckled along with her. "Miguel and I are going to say we're a couple at the holiday party tonight." You added. Your words made  Stephanie stop, grasping your forearm as she looked at you wide eyed.

"No way! I'm both nervous and excited for you. You think your parents will take it ok?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I know my mom would be thrilled that I'm in a serious relationship again. But i know she'll be upset that I lied plus I know my dad and her might not take it well since Miguel is closer in age to them than me. Now that I think about it. They're not going to take it well. What do you think?" You looked at Stephanie with hopeful eyes but they switch to worry when you saw her shake her head.

You arrive to the toy section of the store eyes widening when you see the vast amount of people grabbing things left and right.

"Shit. Ok. Steph, you know what I'm looking for, you go this way and I'll go the other. See you on the other end."

"If we make it out alive." Stephanie says before you split up.

You search almost every section from top to bottom. As you begin to lose hope you smile seeing at the end of the last aisle was the doll Gabi wanted. As you you were nearing the shelf two other people grabbed the last one at the same time. You huff in frustration as you knew you had no chance of getting it now.

"Omg is that Oprah in the shoe department?" Yelled Stephanie making the two people drop the toy and rush over followed by a few other victims who heard her. You chuckle as you pick up the toy from the ground. "My savior."

"That's what I'm here for." She gently bumped your shoulder with hers as you both laughed.

After you bought the toy you and Stephanie left the overly crowded store.

You headed back to your car, driving back to your neighborhood, saying goodbye to Stephanie as you dropped her off and Jack's apartment before you drove back to Miguel's house, parking your car in the garage. Surprisingly, no one has seen you park your car in Miguel's garage. If they have maybe they thought you were going to babysit Gabi, like you did at the beginning before your relationship with Miguel.

You entered the house as a smile lands on your face as you see Gabi running to you with her red holiday dress, with no socks and her hair all messy.

"Hi baby bug. What's happening here." You chuckle as you set your bags down as you kneel down to her height.

"Papa was helping me get dress for the holiday party at your parents house. But when I heard you come home I ran down to see you." You lift her up in your arms as you walk into the living room where you see Miguel in black dress pants and nice button up black shirt with a few buttons undone. On one side of his shoulders were Gabi's tiny socks and in one of his hands her shoes, so small compared to him.

"There's the little runaway princess and my beautiful queen." Miguel whispered the last part to you as he gave you a sweet kiss to your lips before you handed Gabi into his arms.

"No, I want y/n to help me get dress." Gabi pouted as she reached out back to you.

"But princesa, y/n needs to start getting ready." Miguel argued, but you smiled as you reached out and held her again. "It's ok. I'll help you finish putting your socks and shoes on."

"Can you do my hair in that pretty braid?"

"I think I have a good idea of what hairstyle I should do." You smile as you lead her upstairs to her bathroom followed by Miguel who went back to your bedroom to finish getting ready.

You sit her on her stool in front of the bathroom mirror as you help brush her hair. As you begin to style her hair by braiding some of her front parts before tying it in the back. You then grab your curling iron as you give her ends some curl plus some strands in the front. You then ask her to cover her eyes as you lightly put hair spray in her hair to keep its shape.

“All done.”

“Wow! I love it! Thank you.” Gabi smiles as you help her off the stool before having her sit on her bed in her room so you could help get her socks on.

When you finally were able to get her last shoe on Miguel knocked on the door frame. “How it going?” He smiled as he entered the room.

“She’s all ready and looks beautiful.” You smile at Gabi as she looks back at you with a bigger smile.

“You look lovely princesa. Now let’s let y/n get ready.” Said Miguel as his hand rested on your lower back.

“Wait, can I ask a question?” Asked Gabi.

“What is it Baby bug?” You brows furrow looking at Miguel, as he gave you the same expression when you both saw Gabi become nervous and shy.

“What’s wrong mija?” You and Miguel sat on both sides of Gabi to try and comfort her.

“When I was at the kid center when we went camping, I told all my friends that y/n was my mom.” Gabi looks at Miguel before looking at you as she hugs her face against you before she added, “Can I call you mom?” Though her voice was barely above a whisper both you and Miguel heard her as you both look at each other, eyes wide.

Your heart swelled so big that it was hard for you to not shed a few tears. You look back to Miguel who gives you a wide loving smile. Maybe it was your imagination but you saw his eyes become glossy as if he was trying hard to hide his tears.

“Gabi, I would be honored if you called me mom. I’ve always loved you as my daughter. My little baby bug. You’ve made me the happiest woman in the world.” You smiled as you wiped away a tear.

“Yay! I love you Mama.” Gabi hugged you again beyond happy.

“I love you too Sweetheart.” You hug her back.

After letting you hug her a bit longer Miguel speaks, “Let’s let Mama get dressed now for the party, Gabi.” Both you and Miguel’s smiles widen when he said it.

“Kk.” Gabi let go of you as you and Miguel walked out of her room and to your shared bedroom.

When you both entered Miguel picked you up as he twirled you around before holding the back of your head as he passionately captured your lips with his. When your lips parted he placed his forehead against yours as you both couldn’t stop smiling.

“I love so much Mamita.” Miguel said as he kissed away your joyous tears before kissing you one more time on the lips.

“I love you so much too Papi.” You say which Miguel’s eyes widen slightly, your smile widening as you see his cheeks slightly turn red before you looked at his eyes, clouded with lust.

As the door was already closed Miguel picked you up and tossed you on to the bed, as you let out joyous giggle as he got on top you fluttering you with butterfly kisses across your face and neck.

After taking a bit longer from your quick rendezvous with Miguel you were finally ready as you head downstairs where Miguel sat on the couch as he watched Gabi draw with her crayons on the table. As you walked down the stairs Miguel looked up as he stood up and joined you at the bottom of the steps, pulling you against him.

“Wow, Mama you look so beautiful!” Gabi said as she got up from her table and ran over to you.

“She does look really beautiful.” Said Miguel as he leaned down and kissed your cheek, knowing your red lipstick would rub on to his lips, not that either of you’d mind if it weren’t for the event your were going to.

You took a deep breath as you try to calm you rising nerves about tonight. Miguel noticed right away as he took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before kissing your knuckles.

“Everything will be ok tonight. No matter the reaction, always remember the home that loves you the most.” Miguel said as you looked at him before looking at Gabi gazing up at you with a big smile. You look back up to him as you take in a another deep breath before saying, “you’re right. I guess I should head over. I’ll see you both in a bit.” You leave Miguel’s hold as you blow them both a kiss before leaving the house and walking over to your parents.

Back in Miguel’s house:

“Papa, why aren’t we going with Mama?” Asked Gabi as she sat back in her place at the living room table coloring.

“You remember that Mama and Papa’s relationship is a secret, because we don’t know how others will react when they find out?”

“Yeah.”

“Well Mama is going over there to help her parents with set up for the party and make sure they are happy as Mama and I are going to tell them later tonight that we are together.”

“Yay!”

Back to you at your parent’s house:

You open the door to your parents house, embraced with the various smells of food.

“Y/n?” Yelled your mom from the kitchen.

“Yes, it’s me.” You say as you hang up your coat before walking into the kitchen to see your brothers, dad, Stephanie and your mom all helping out with food preparation.

“Hi honey. You look gorgeous!” Said your mother as she set down the spoon she was stirring in the pot before coming over to hug you.

“Hey mom, thanks. Sorry I was a bit late. Is there anything I can help with?”

“Everything is pretty much done but you can help bring the good to the dining room table.” Said your father as he finished preparing the salad.

“Ok cool.” You say as you grab a dish and bring it to the dinning room. Everyone from the kitchen followed, bringing a dish with them.

“Hey, Mom, dad?” They both look at you with a smile, waiting for you to continue. “I wanted to ask what you both thought if I was in a relationship…” you pause as you glance at Stephanie and Jack and then to Liam who was the only one who sent you a confused look. Getting the hint the couple walked back to the kitchen, Liam lagging behind wanting to know your conversation before Stephanie came back rolled her eyes as she tugged Liam out of the room by his arm.

“As I was saying, what would you guys think if I said I was in a new relationship?”

“That would be marvelous sweetheart!” Said your mother.

“Of course we would be happy for you.” Added your father.

“Would your thoughts change if I said he was slightly older than me?”

“Of course our thoughts wouldn’t change. Its always better to date a mature man.” Said your mother as your father nodded in agreement.

You smiled relieved to here their approval. Well, at least for the first part of the plan you and Miguel came up with this morning in bed for how you both were going to tell your parents of your relationship.

“How long has this relationship with this new guy been going on for?” Asked your father.

“Four and half to about 5 months.” Not including the weekend together two years ago. You left that part out.

“Right after your break up with Tyler? That’s fast sweetie.” Said your mother.

“Well, a rebound after Tyler turned into a date, then a bunch more before we became official.” You slightly lied, knowing full well sex with Miguel that night 5 months ago wasn’t a rebound after breaking up with your ex, but a night where you and Miguel were finally able to show the person you care for how much you love them.

“Oh, I see. That’s nice.” Said your mother with a small smile before returning back to the kitchen. You internally winced when you saw her reaction to your response.

Luckily your parents couldn’t push further as neighbors started to enter your the house for the holiday party.

After there was quite a few people throughout the house, making it busy Miguel walked in with Gabi.

Your parents headed over to greet the O’Hara’s as you tagged along.

“Hey Miguel. How’ve you been man? Haven’t seen you around much lately.” Said your father ash he greeted Miguel with a very light slap to his back.

“Just been extremely busy at work lately.”

“I’m hoping y/n as been able to help you.” Said your mom as she greeted Miguel with a welcoming hug.

“Yeah, she has.” Miguel looked at you as you both tried to not laugh from your mother’s oblivious words.

You and Miguel gave each other a greeting hug, still trying to make sure to not look too familiar with each other.

“Hi Gabi.” You say as you kneel down to hug her as she happily returns it. “Hi Mama.” Gabi whispered so only you could hear as she tried to hide her giggle. You smiled down at her as you brushed a stray strand of her hair from her face, secretly telling her you heard her. You stand back to your full height as you, Miguel and your parents begin to catch up with each other as you and Miguel still stayed pretending that you didn’t live with each other, and didn’t know what the other had been doing.

Watching from the corner of the room were the same brown eyes as before, glaring between you and Miguel and then down to Gabi as you helped fix her hair again. The stranger took a sip of their drink before setting it down on a side table before making their way over to you two as you were conversing with your parents.

"Long time no see, Miguel."

You, your parents, and Miguel look to the woman standing before you. Your brows furrow as you glance up at Miguel to see his eyes widen.

"Sofia? What are you doing here?"

The woman leaned down as she looked at Gabi who tucked herself between you and Miguel.

Sofia looked back up at you and Miguel, smirking before her eyes went back to Gabi. "Well obviously, I've come to see my precious daughter."

"Miguel?" You look at him as he returns your gaze before looking back at the woman with a glare.

"This is Sofia Grassi." Miguel looks at you and your parents before gazing down at his daughter who looks up at him then back at the strange woman,

"Gabi, this is your mother."

————————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

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[strwyofthesun]

12:58

pairing: leon kennedy x agent!(fem)reader

synopsis: you become leon's informant for a mission while hunnigan is on leave and end up in a relationship with him a while after. all is well until leon goes on a certain mission.

word count: 3k

content: angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of war, mentions of cheating, drunk leon, mention of bleeding, mentions of death (?)

a/n: there is a severe lack of hurt/no comfort leon fics on here and i plan on fixing that /j maybe there is and im just not looking hard enough but oh well if i can't find one i'll make one. also! this takes place after re:damnation which explains the us and russia war so pls dont be startled by the mention of it.

the rain poured heavily on the cold pavements of the sidewalk you and him once walked together, hand in hand, the both of you thought that maybe this was where you were both meant to be, with each other. atleast, that was you thought. if that were the case, you wouldn’t be under the pouring rain, crying over what you once thought was your forever. the salty tears mixed with the rain as the droplets hit your face. you bit your lip in frustration refusing to believe that this is happening to you, but you always knew, deep down, this was bound to happen.

a few months had gone by and things have finally settled down at the DSO ever since the war between the us and russia. missions have been more manageable and not as large scale as the war and everything else has been rather tame. you’ve been working as an FOS (field operations support) agent for quite some time already to know the ins and outs of how things work. its been a few years serving as agent and an information source to multiple other agents in the DSO but not once have you worked with the man himself, leon kennedy. his informant was ingrid hunnigan, a long time FOS agent. she had worked alongside leon ever since 2004 when he saved ashley graham, the president’s daughter and ever since then they have been working together until now. over time, the two of you have gotten close and have even worked together in some missions. not only were you co-workers, but also good friends outside of work.

you stood outside the office yet you could already hear the clatter and busy sounds of the people working. you opened the door and greeted your fellow co-workers a good morning, except for one person. scanning the room from all its four corners, you couldn't find hunnigan anywhere, not even at her desk. so, you asked a co-worker of yours that sat just a cubicle beside you about her.

“hey, have you seen hunnigan around?”

“oh, she’s on leave i think? i saw a note on her desk, it’s for you, so you can just check that out.”

“ahh, alright thanks.”

you walk up to hunnigan’s desk and hover over her files looking for the note that your co-worker told you about. you murmured to yourself, “here it is…”

“i’m currently on leave for while due to some family issues and they need me back home. it was really urgent, i’m sorry i couldn’t tell you sooner. also, i left my assignment to you so please do me the favor. leon is going on a mission by the time you’re reading this note, someone will get you patched up to his line so don’t worry. i owe you [y/n]. –hunnigan”

“she’s definitely gonna owe me for this…” you muttered curses in your head when you were suddenly interrupted by a tap on the shoulder.

“[l/n] right?” asked by an unfamiliar face. but based on hunnigan’s note, you knew that this is the someone she was talking about.

“yes that is me, i’m assuming you will get me on mr. kennedy’s line?”

“ah, yes. i see that you have been informed.”

“i don’t know the complete details of the mission so if you would kindly brief me…”

“don’t worry, please follow me.”

you followed them into a room where they explained the information you will be needed as leon’s informant for the mission. in the back of your head, you were nervous. you’ve never worked with leon before and he has made quite the name for himself in the government and is particularly well liked by the president. working with someone with such a high status made you really agitated but you calmed yourself down thinking that this was like every other mission you’ve been on.

a few hours had gone by and you are now in the communications area. you have all the files you needed in one folder, you’ve been briefed on the current situation, and everything seems to be under control.

“mr. kennedy is on the chopper as we speak. you may now call him and let him know all the other details that he will be needing.”

“i’m a bit nervous…”

“there is no need to be nervous, i’m sure hunnigan trusted you enough to know that you will do well in her place.”

“yeah, you’re right…”

“i’ll leave you be now, you got this.”

after the words of encouragement from hunnigan’s colleague, you took a deep breath and pressed the call button to which leon quickly responded. “so, where’s the landing po- oh?” he looked into the screen of his phone and squinted. “you’re not hunnigan…”

“you’re right, i’m not. just a substitute while she’s on leave. i have your landing point marked mr. kennedy.”

“oh is that so? don’t bother with the formalities, just call me leon. and you? how should i call you?”

“[y/n] will do.”

“alright [y/n], pretty name for a pretty girl like yourself.”

leon’s words caught you off guard and you could feel your face heat up. you cleared your throat and looked visibly flustered over the phone over a simple compliment from him. leon saw this and chuckled at the sight of you blushing through the screen.

“thanks… um...”

“so pretty girl, are you gonna inform me now or what?

“oh right, right… refrain from any making unnecessary comments while on the job please.” you said as you tried to regain some some sense into yourself.

“yes mam, whatever you say.” leon said with a grin on his face.

after that mission, you and leon still kept contact even when hunnigan came back from her leave. he would always message you about his day and he’d take you out on dates whenever he had the chance to. but the label was never specified between the two of you. you understood that in his line of work consistency within a relationship was hard to maintain. not only that, but the overthinking that you would have to face almost everyday would eat you up if you were not mentally strong enough to handle it. the thought that maybe leon could be badly hurt in a location you couldn't reach, or even worse, him dying on the job, not even having the chance to say his final goodbyes to his loved ones, friends, you. so you thought that maybe it was for the best.

you were each other’s relief and the more time went by, the stronger your feelings for leon grew. and because of this, you decided to distance yourself from him, in hopes that he would just forget about you so that he could focus on his work. but leon couldn’t forget you. everyday he thought of you, you were the first thing on his mind and the last thing he thinks about before going to sleep. and even in his dreams he saw you. 24/7 you were on his mind. everytime he was on a mission, he always thought of coming back home to you, but you didn’t know that. he never told you how much you have plagued his mind ever since the day he met you and heard your voice through the intercom. he found purpose and reason to live. he didn’t feel like someone who’s at the government’s disposal, a weapon, a mere shell of a person made to execute the living dead. when you had decided to distance yourself from him, leon needed you to know that it was the last thing he wanted.

the repeated ringing of your doorbell echoed in your apartment. you got up from your bed feeling annoyed and rubbed your eyes as it adjust slowly to the bright light of your digital clock. 12:58, who could be ringing your doorbell like a maniac at this hour? slowly, you shuffled to the front of the door and checked the peep hole before opening the door. suddenly, your half-asleep state suddenly vanished and you were completely awoken by the sight of leon outside your door. it had been a few weeks since you had cut contact with him, and you did not expect him to show up infront of your doorstep at that very moment.

once leon heard the sound of the door unlock, he swung it open and immediately threw his arms around you.

“leon, what are you-“

“please, don’t leave me…” he choked out these words as he pulled away from his embrace and you could see his eyes start to well up with tears.

“i have loved you ever since i have laid my eyes on you. and these past few weeks had made me realize how much i've missed you. whether it was a text, a call, time with you, i missed everything about you. i don’t ever want you to think that you’re just someone i waste my time with to get off. you matter so much to me and yes, i’d love to waste my time with you, not for my own pleasure, but because i love you. i love you so much it physically pains me when you’re not around so please… don’t leave me…”

“i’m here right now leon, i’m not leaving you… i promise.”

life after leon’s confession had looked up and the two of you had never been happier. he had moved in with you and every day you share together was a day well-spent. during the mornings, you and leon would always take a stroll down the pavements outside your apartment, hands intertwined, the both of you enjoyed each other’s company for as long as time could allow. for the first few months, as you expected, the overthinking hit you. was he going to come back safely? is he going to survive? when would he back home? anything could happen to him. leon knew this would happen at one point and he never wanted you to worry. so, he would send you sweet messages or even call you when he could but you didn’t want to interrupt him on his missions. that's why sometimes, leon would send messages to hunnigan for her to pass on to you. you could see how much effort leon was putting into the relationship and it made your heart skip a beat everytime you think about it, especially because you felt like you didn’t deserve it. you didn’t deserve any ounce of leon’s love. but leon always told you otherwise. and he would always show you that you deserved every single bit of it.

later on in the relationship, you and leon got to know each other fully. he opened up about his childhood, his traumas, and ada. he reassured you that even though ada was a big part of his life before, you were his now and his future. and you did feel somewhat thankful for ada because you knew that without her, leon would not have survived the raccoon city incident. but it haunted you knowing that she was all he could think about for a big portion of his life. not to mention his relations with her before the us and russian war. knowing that they have been together and that he longed for her return everytime. how could you compare to the woman he had yearned for years on end. every time you would overthink this, leon would always reassure you that if she came back he wouldn’t be phased by her presence because he was inlove with you and only you. atleast, that’s what he said.

leon was off to another mission as per usual, you kissed him and bid him the words you always say before he goes. “be safe always and don’t forget to return to me. i love you leon.” he smiles and would always respond back, “i’ll be safe and i will always return to you. i love you too [y/n].” it was basically a ritual at that point.

a few hours later, your phone buzzed and the screen lit up. it was a text from leon.

my special agent: hey princess, i’ll be sent off soon. can’t wait to finish this so i can get back home to you.

you: alright, take care baby, i love you.

my special agent: i love you more ;)

you were at ease but it didn’t last long when days turned into weeks and you haven’t heard from him. you decided to ask hunnigan during work about leon’s whereabouts.

“hey hunnigan, have you heard from leon?”

“umm, no i haven’t had contact from him in awhile… what’s the matter?”

“he’s been radio silent and i’m getting worried that something happened in his mission.”

“his mission? it was successful. he finished it 3 weeks ago.”

“3 weeks ago? then why hasn’t he let me know?”

“i’m sorry [y/n] but i am not aware of his whereabouts ever since he finished. try asking chris if he knows anything.”

“i will, thank you hunnigan.”

“i hope things are fine...”

“i hope so too…”

you clocked out of your job for the day and dialed chris. as your phone started ringing, you started to drown in your thoughts at what could have possibly happened to leon. what has he been doing these past 3 weeks? where was he staying? is he okay? is he badly injured? worry after worry started filling your head that you suddenly found yourself crying.

“hello? hello?” a voice suddenly spoke up from the phone. you didn’t realize that chris had already picked up the phone.

“[y/n]? are you there?”

you sniffle before responding and cleared your throat, “yes! i’m here um, have you heard from leon by any chance?”

you hear chris heavily sigh over the phone.

“is there something wrong chris? please tell me he’s okay…”

“hes… he’s fine, but he isn’t here with me now. i’ll bring him over there.”

“please do… thank you so much chris.”

“anytime [y/n].”chris dropped the call. “should i tell her…”

night time soon fell and you were outside the apartment building waiting for chris’s car to arrive. you were worried sick and checked your watch every 5 minutes feeling the most anxious you have ever been. there was a pit in your stomach and all you wanted to do was throw up due to the overwhelming thoughts. 12: 58, they’re here.

“chris! leon!” you call out for their names. chris got out of the car carrying a drunk leon to you.

“i’m sorry to bring him to you in this state…”

“it’s okay chris, thanks again.”

“again, anytime [y/n], be strong.”

“be strong?” you thought to yourself. what did chris mean? he passed over leon to you and he fell into your arms. chris drove off before tried talking to leon.

“leon, hey, are you okay?” you asked as you tried to brush off the hair off his face. it revealed a crying leon which surprised you.

“i… i’m so sorry [y/n]…”

“it’s okay baby you’re here now, safe and sound, that’s what matters..”

“no… no!" leon shouted as he pushed you away.

“leon what is wrong? please, tell me!” you begged.

“i saw ada again.”

you stood there, shell-shocked, dreading the following words that leon was gonna utter. you prayed to all the gods out there that it wasn’t what you thought it was.

“i… we… im sorry…” leon stumbled on his words.

“you what leon...?"

“i cheated on you…” he said as tears started to roll down his cheek.

“how could you…? after everything you’ve said? after everything we’ve been through? was it all a lie?” you walked up to him fighting back the tears.

“tell me leon! i deserve an explanation! you owe it to me! how could you do this to me?! was i not enough for you?! where did i go wrong? tell me!” you punched him in the chest and gripped it tightly.

“i love you leon… i thought you loved me too?”

“i do love yo-“

“you don’t! you wouldn’t-“ you feel a lump in your throat. “you wouldn’t have done that if you loved me…”

“it was a mistake [y/n], please i’m sorry…”

“leon… stop…”

“i’m sorry… please… forgive me.”

“you said you’d return to me…”

“i did… im here right now, aren’t i?”

“no. you returned to her.”

leon embraced you tightly, clinging onto you but you only stood there. its as if the world you have created for you and him had crashed down right before your eyes. everything you once knew, felt like a lie. all these months, you’ve been living a lie. but what could you have done? how could you, a woman who has been with him for less than a year, compete with the likes of her? the woman who’s saved her countless of times, the first woman he ever loved, the woman who he had waited for almost all his life. your relationship felt too good to be true. you knew, it was too good to be true, you were right, it was to good to be true. you felt like a fool for blindly believing leon’s words. bullshit. you were never his future, you were just a distraction, until she finally came back. the realization stung you and its poison was seeping into your veins destroying you inside out.

“leon, pack your stuff now.”

“don’t do this [y/n], please i’m begging you.”

“don’t make me say it twice, pack it now."

leon looked at you for one last time before letting you go in defeat, walking away from you and into the apartment building. you open your phone and dial chris once more to which he picked up immediately.

“chris, please come back, pick up leon."

“[y/n]- “ before he could even say anything else you dropped the call and the rain began to pour. your knees began to feel weak and you drop down on the cold pavement. your chest feels tighter and tighter, breathing becoming hard and heavy. you clutch tightly onto your chest as you choke back the tears. feeling exhausted and tired, you let it all out, screaming, wailing, and begging any higher force to take away the pain, but it looked like even the gods above couldn’t help you. you were helpless and alone once more. you bit your lip as hard as you can trying to contain yourself. so much so until it started to bleed. but you didn’t care. you didn’t care about anything at all at this point. a part of you wished you could turn back time to when you were happy but you questioned yourself wondering what could’ve been better. reliving all the moments together, even though you knew how it will all end, in pain and suffering, or just never accepting hunnigan’s favor, never making contact with him, never meeting him, never falling in love with him.

[slayfics]

Hello! I’ve been reading your posts for a couple weeks now and I love them sm! Muichiro has a place in my heart after season 3 lol. I was wondering if you could do a one shot where the reader saves him from a vital blow from a demon after a bad argument? It hits her in her shoulder and goes almost all the way through her body. So there’s blood and all that stuff. It splashed muichiro in the face and he’s just silent as reader hits the floor. He defeats the demon and reader is just unconscious (not dead) and he freaks? Idk how it would end though? If this sounds absolutely crappy just ignore me 🥹 love your writing!

You get badly hurt by a demon after a fight with Muichiro.

Warnings: blood

You couldn't believe after all this time Muichiro still had the nerve to talk down to you. Sure you were still ranked lower than him but you had proven your worth, the days of feeling you didn't deserve respect were long gone.

You cursed the fact that you both were summoned in the middle of an argument to quickly catch a group of demons. Even more, frustration welled up inside you that Obanai had already beaten you both to the demon.

Why were you even summoned when a Hashira was already at the demon? Whatever the case, you and Muichiro quickly got to work attacking the demons with Obanai.

Whether it was due to the reassuring presence of Obanai being another Hashira in the fight, or the argument you were both in right before the fight, you both seemed to be disorganized in the fight.

To the point that you saw Muichiro left an opening for a demon to come right for him. Without thinking you quickly moved yourself between Muichiro and the demon.

The demon's attack went completely through your shoulder splashing blood everywhere. Swiftly Muichiro spun and cut the demon's head off as you fell to the floor.

Obanai had just taken out he last demon and rushed to assess the situation with Muichiro.

Muichiro stared over your body completely in shock as more blood from your wound spilled out to soak his feet.

"What the hell are you doing just standing there!" Obanai barked at Muichiro. Obanai quickly took off his haoir and wrapped it around your wound.

"We have to get her to the Butterfly Mansion right away,"

Muichiro blinked away the tears forming in his eyes, "Right-" He finally spoke.

"Well pick her up!" Obanai commanded, irritated at Muichiro's shock and lack of action.

Muichiro shook his head quickly trying to focus then carefully grabbed you into his arms. Obanai took off in the direction of the Butterfly Mansion and Muichiro followed right behind.

"Why were you both fighting so carelessly?" Obanai asked, as the two Hashria's continued to run.

"We were in the middle of a disagreement when we were summoned," Muichiro spoke.

"Hmm- I see," Obanai responded.

"Iguro..." Muichiro called from behind.

"Yes, Tokito?"

"She'll be alright won't she?"

"If we are fast enough," Obanai answered.

You woke up in the Butterfly Mansion to the sight of a misty-eyed Muichiro sitting across from you. Immediately he stood up when your eyes opened. You didn't feel any pain, actually the opposite you couldn't feel the right side of your body.

"Tokito?" You called hazily looking at the Hashira.

"Do you need anything? How do you feel? Are you ok?" He bombarded you with questions.

"I can't really feel anything yet," You answered. 'What happened?"

"I wasn't paying attention and you took an attack from a demon to save me," he explained.

"Oh..." You started to have some memories of the event flooding back to you.

"Are you ok?" You asked.

Muichiro scoffed, "Yes thanks to you," He answered. "I shouldn't have been so careless," He said, looking down at the floor.

"It's ok- we weren't really in a good mindset. I'm sorry we fought," you said.

"No, you don't need to apologize. I'm the one that let you down. I was useless in that fight," he scolded himself.

"You got me back here safe. It's ok, don't be so hard on yourself," You tried to console him.

"No, I can't take credit for that either. I stood frozen while Iguro took control of the situation. You should be thanking him, not me," Muichiro said, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

"Tokito, it's ok. It was just a bad day. Nothing we can't overcome," you pleaded with him.

"No, I- I'm sorry I should go-" He said, turning to walk out and get one of the butterfly girls.

"No!" You yelled at the Hashira. "Don't leave me please!"

"You really want my company after the harsh things I said and my negligence in today's fight," he said bitterly.

"You're so aggravating sometimes, Tokito! Just come here," You said sternly, swallowing a lump in your throat.

Muichiro reluctantly moved closer to you. You reach out for his hand bringing it to your lips and gently placing a kiss.

"Stop being so difficult," you commanded. Finally, Muichiro's shoulders relaxed a bit and a smile found a way to his face.

Thank you so much for the request I hope you enjoy it~

Tags~

@aeolia18 @yandere-kou @sakurasunkiss @hashiroses @plvuii @snowmist-hashira

[bewiiitched]

⟩ Sex doll (chapter nine)

• author's note: I just can't wait to bring Logan back fjjfdjekwjd all I gonna say is that I'm addicted to clichés.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of torture, blood, powers as drugs, angst, lies, Wade being a idiot.

///////

It's one of the times she decides to visit Althea, where everything starts to go wrong.

It was a day off that she had thought of spending with Logan, but he had gone out with Laura under the pretext of looking for a normal job. His impatience with the mercenary growing more and more every time they were involved in missions, despite the fact that both were impossible to kill, she knew that he felt something similar to concern for the mercenary's carefree behavior, the proof of which being how his yellow suit was always more torn than Wade's, which hid any trace of blood that could stain it.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, their relationship had become closer despite the constant provocations between them, and there was no doubt in the young woman's mind that part of it had been due to the fact that they had both saved the world.

So when she knocks on the apartment door, a slight smile tugs at her lips as she hears the old woman's voice from the other side of the door.

“Althea.” She greets, and hears the woman murmur a greeting in a relieved tone, a complaint about how she finally had some peace now that they were both gone. “Hm? Wade's gone too?”

She asks a bit confused and the first thing she thinks of is how a job search involving the three of them would end.

“Yeah, yeah. Something about a mission with him, and he better be back soon, he promised to bring me more snow.” She grumbles, and though the first thing she notes in her mind is how it was probably a drug gang deal judging by her answer. She can't help the way her heartbeat echoes in her ears as she realizes the situation.

She takes a deep breath out of inertia, thinking there must be a good reason why Logan would lie to her about his whereabouts, but her blood boils despite that, wanting, needing to know what the reason could be for them to have pushed her away. It wasn't a drug gang.

She knows that asking her won't get her anywhere, but she's too anxious to care. “Did they tell you anything about where they went?”

Her voice is tense, and she watches her rummage through the drawers for what is probably cocaine, but she stops when she notices the change in her tone, her frown and her head turning in her direction, following the sound of her voice. “No.”

She answers, but there's a question in her tone, not only because they both know she doesn't get involved in missions anymore, but because she's starting to think the mercenary has tricked her.

She hums in response, her gaze darting around the room but her frustration growing when she sees nothing useful, no clue that could help her figure out what was going on. “He told me he was going with Laura.”

The older woman lets out a huff that ends up cementing her annoyance. “I’m pretty sure handsome there has been here all afternoon until they left. They said something about, ah…my memory isn’t what it used to be, but was it something like fake codeine?”

She murmurs, not sounding entirely sure but her attention is drawn back to her when she hears her choke on her own saliva, something like panic shaking her breath and the only response he gets is the sound of the door slamming shut as she flees the apartment.

(...)

She wants to get rid of the idea, like she wants to crawl out of her skin, the thought that she may find herself wrapped up in the organization again even though she had given up on it. Deep breaths do little to calm her and focus her thoughts, and her frustration only grows when she goes to find the report on her powers that Killebrew had written, detailing the change that had come after the first suppression.

Like a hurricane, she messes up half the room until she rummages through her closet, and the folder where she kept the documents is empty, as are the missing blood samples, the same ones she had stolen from the lab at the risk of them trying to create some experiment on her like they had done with Logan.

The thought of calling the mercenary crosses her mind, because she knows she will have no way of locating him if he is hell-bent on hiding whatever they are planning from her, but she doesn't. And a part of her is worried, pissed off, and scared in equal parts that she is being left out of something that so deeply involves her.

(...)

When Logan returns to the apartment, he instinctively stops at the door frame, the scent of her not going unnoticed by him even though his hearing confirms that there is no one in the house. But the emotional trail she left behind overwhelms him for a moment before he enters, and it is not until he steps into the room they now share that he curses under his breath, pillows on the floor, blankets unfolded and the closet door is open with the hangers moved to the side, revealing the space where her chart was supposed to be.

And her blood.

He realizes that she must have left in the same hurry that she entered, but he has little time to analyze the situation further when he notices the presence of the mercenary approaching the apartment and goes to the living room, opening the door before he has a chance to knock.

There is frustration written on the mutant's face, his jaw clenched as if he were going to stab the mercenary with the same daggers that his gaze sends in his direction. “You said she wouldn't notice.”

He growls, and his hand wraps itself in the fabric of Wade's suit, close to grabbing him by the throat, Wade raises his hands in a peaceful gesture, but the nervousness is evident in his tone. “She hasn't! She doesn't know anything yet!

His nostrils flare, and he feels stupid, just as stupid as he felt the first time the mercenary made "an educated wish" about saving his universe, but this time they both share the blame,

And he can't shake off the feeling that his body is tingling at the thought of not knowing where or what the female is thinking. Worry eats away at him, and the mercenary's attempts to appease him are not few.

"Her first instinct has always been to runaway, so if she's looking for answers she can't be too far away.”

(...)

Even though the vast majority of the project staff had been killed by Deadpool in his attempt to find answers about Ajax's whereabouts, in a larger scheme the female knew that the lab work hadn't been done alone, just as Killebrew had collaborated with more scientists when it came to running the project even though they weren't nothing permanent.

However, her first step is to try to find out what they had been investigating, so she keeps a low profile, and he hopes that at least part of what the mercenary had told Althea was true and that it was a drug issue. Hours of questions and frustrations pass until she finally gets something, and she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry because the "fake codeine" hasn't spread so openly through the streets.

What she gets is not much, and she finds herself not so kindly questioning two pairs of dealers who had confessed to receiving the substance in previous days, when she makes out a figure approaching them.

She glances sideways, still holding the gun in the direction of the guy she doesn't have a hold of, while the one she does corner throws nervous glances at his partner. "I don't know anything else. I-If you're a policeman, we're only in charge of delivering."

He justifies himself defensively, and the young woman notices his accelerated heartbeat, giving him a condescending look. It’s then that she feels the phone vibrate in her purse and she doesn’t need to know who it’s from.

“Who are you getting this from?” she hisses, losing her patience, and the gun turns in his direction when she sees him shake his head.

But it’s neither of them who answers, and her gaze turns in the direction of the voice. “A mental institution outside the city.”

He’s a homeless man, and she knows from the way his body shakes that he’s been under the effects of her power, her stomach churning at the thought, how his body is receptive to something he can’t understand.

“Get out of here.” She growls, letting go of the man and they both run away. There’s wariness evident in her gaze, she can see the hunger, the need for stimulation, and she doesn’t want to wonder how the man deduces that she’s the source of his addiction. “Where else?”

“There’s a shelter a few blocks back. I can take you there.” He answers, and her eyes follow him, watching him look around urgently. She can’t tell if the urge he suffers is from the stimulation of her power or the lack of it.

Reluctantly, she nods, but when she lets him come closer, she knocks him out, gently placing him on the ground before calling an ambulance. Her mind, however, is elsewhere.

She gives the address of the place, but there is no sign of her when the ambulance arrives and has set off to reach the outskirts of the city, when she checks her calls she can see Wade’s number being her last call and decides to turn it off.

If her hunch was right, the shelter would be nothing more than a mere test to see the effects of her power. The institution, however, the place where they would all end up when the situation became problematic.

It was never her main purpose in the project, but in retrospect she realizes perhaps the only reason she hadn't ended up killed by Ajax, is because they needed something more from her, that they had something more useful that made the rivalry between her and Ajax take a backseat.

(...)

It's all darkness when she arrives at the place. And the feeling of unease only grows when she sees the suburb in which it is located, and she can swear that whatever they are doing in the shelters of the city, it is just a whim to not attract attention, since the area guaranteed them enough people with whom they could experiment.

Getting past the security personnel is easier than expected, the guard who watches the door for obvious reasons does not expect to see a girl alone at 4 am.

“Stop there, sweetheart. This is private property. Can I help you?” He asks, but the concern is short-lived when a blow to the back of his head against the wall makes him fall and drags him where the cameras can't capture him.

The buzz of the door opening puts her on alert, even more so when the sound contrasts with the deathly silence of the place. Part of her knows that it had been a misplaced hope to think that the project had come to an end. For lack of another way to describe them they were like cockroaches multiplying, and as long as there was an idea left to profit from, Weapon X would form again.

Her gaze travels to the reception area, which is empty, and continues until she sees the sign that identifies each floor of the building.

Her senses pick up a second heartbeat and she is quick to hide behind a wall, the sound of approaching footsteps makes her react and her hand is placed over the mouth of the nurse, who looks at her frightened, and the situation only intensifies when she can see the recognition in her gaze. A turn and she is cornered against the wall, hand on her neck squeezing hard enough to restrict her airflow. “My blood, where they hide It?”

Her tone is demanding, and her gaze follows her hand, watching her make the sign of two. Being right is far from comforting, and being recognized is like receiving a kick in the stomach. As tempted as she is to knock her out and get a problem off her chest, she decides to drag her along with her.

And she pulls a syringe from her pocket, which she places at her throat.

“If you lie to me, you’re going to join them.” She threatens, her eyes focused on the young girl writhing under her grip. And she shakes her head dramatically, making her squint. “What’s your name?”

“M-Mary.” she answers in a shaky voice now that the pressure on her neck has lessened.

“You know me.” And it’s not a question, the girl gulps, a soft nod in response before her grip tightens again in warning. “Tell me everything.”

(...)

Despite having been in the project since before Francis was enhanced. Suspicions about the organization didn’t come until she herself began visiting the lab as something more than just to keep the patients in line. She was the only mutant, and her powers didn’t need any enhancement, but the original purpose for which she had agreed to be part of them.

Her reluctance to torture hadn't gone entirely unnoticed, and before she could realize it, Ajax was positioned over her, like a wolf stalking cattle after her powers were contained. Her fluids as an object of study that never yielded answers, too busy with torture and missions to have time to question herself.

But the questions come back to her as she reaches some kind of lab, she didn't expect to get too much information out of the nurse but she needed to know where to move before she was discovered. Years of being forced to ask and then hit hadn't quite contained her nature, hit and then ask.

As the nurse had said, she manages to get her file out of one of the drawers, puts it away among her clothes, her attention returning to the fridge that holds her blood samples and at first she grimaces at the amount. She had never visited the lab so many times to generate such a quantity.

It's no surprise to her that her blood is being used as a stimulant, it is, however, that it continues to have an effect even when her powers aren't being used over the victim.

“It took you a while to come out of hiding, my dear.” A laugh follows the man’s voice as he barely speaks half a sentence before the young woman’s gun is pointed in his direction, her enhanced senses kicking in and suddenly the idea of ​​killing sounds more tempting. Her gaze is fixed on him, and the nurse retreats after a condescending gesture from the man. “Pulling the trigger won’t get you answers.”

His voice is calm, but the image he’s trying to create contrasts with the doctor she knows, and she can tell the stress has taken its toll on Killebrew’s face but he takes her silence as a sign to keep talking. “Killing us won’t be the end. You should know that after how it ended last time. You joined us to control your powers, and you succeeded.”

The sound of the gun going off-safety echoes through the room.

“Yeah.” It’s the only thing she says before a bullet rips through the doctor’s knee, the scream echoing through the halls as she sees the man curse and writhe in pain, she sees him pull back as she approaches until she kneels in front of him. “But I never asked to go around torturing people.”

“You had a purpose. You still do, don’t be stupid.” He growls through his teeth, bringing his hand over the wounded area and paling at the bleeding, as his pants soon turn crimson.

“My purpose ends with Logan.” She answers without hiding her rage in her voice, and her grip on the gun tightens when her senses pick up footsteps approaching in a hurry, she decides to go the peaceful way, and quickly dodges the guard who enters the room, sliding across the floor and twisting his arm behind his back before kicking his partner in the stomach, making him hunch over. Keeping him by the arm she pushes him against the other, making them both fall and pointing the gun again.

“The addiction,” she begins, looking at Killebrew. “It shouldn’t develop without my powers, what the fuck have you done?”

She asks, frowning and remembering the multiple tortures, how she had believed that the effects of her power had been something temporary, that physical contact was nothing more than the match that lit the gasoline that was her blood, and yet, they were wearing her down without her being involved.

The idea of ​​being compared to codeine was confusing on its own, being that her power had always been more about stimulating the nerves to control the various sensations rather than numbing.

“It alters the neurochemistry of the brain,” He explains and her brow furrows even more, her jaw clenched as she tries to maintain her composure and not spread red on the white walls. “Nerve control gives you power, but your fluids guarantee your survival. As a mother secretes hormones that bond her with her newborn, they will not want to kill the hand that feeds them. They crave stimulation, before you can even choose what to do they become addicted to whatever you offer them through your blood.”

Suddenly her mission with Logan makes sense, not just because he had been able to harm her while under her power, which she had blamed on how his regeneration healed his nerves constantly preventing a control that lasted.

“You think it will susceed?” She mocks, shooting his shoulder this time eliciting another scream and sees the two men tense, but ends all initiative to move when he turns the gun on them again.

Despite the pain, the expression on the doctor's face makes it clear that he is underestimating the addictiveness of her fluids and she can feel her stomach turning.

(...)

The whole situation gives her goosebumps, now that her clothes are covered in blood she has little interest in thinking about the consequences when all she can think about is whether the victims would suffer long-term damage. As if it were possible the hallways are even more silent despite the sound of gunshots, and there is not a soul to be found despite the fact that the building is not small.

Her mind turns over the contents of her file as well as Killebrew's words, and for the third time, she feels her phone vibrate against her hip.

"What?" She picks up without hiding her annoyance, keeping her gun in the other hand she continues advancing through the hallways, and rolls her eyes when she hears the mercenary's apology. "Fuck you. “ she spits, and the concern she hears in his tone for her safety only pisses her off more, it’s the last thing she cared about at the moment. “You had no right to keep it from me, Wilson.”

“I know!” He replies, his tone slightly higher for emphasis. “I thought- I thought it would be quicker if we took care of it ourselves, while you continued to ruin your life commuting from work to home.” He knows his attempt at a joke isn’t appreciated, but he still tries to get her to tell him where the hell she is. “Please, please, tell me you’re not doing something stupid.”

For a moment she falls silent, because it’s not exactly wise to have walked into a place alone that profited from her powers and wouldn’t kill her because they needed her fluids.

She stops dead when she hears footsteps approaching, and by inertia she leans against the wall, watching out of the corner of her eye two nurses cross the hallway carrying a stretcher with a woman who did not look in good condition at all.

“Tell me where you are”

“Saint Helen psychiatric hospital.”

(...)

However, when they both arrive there is no trace of her, and all attempts to locate her are useless when before leaving she had abandoned her phone, leaving it on the chair in the reception area.

On the other hand, the silence in the place is even more overwhelming when as they explore following her trail there is nothing but blood and corpses of the personnel involved, to the surprise of the mercenary, including the lifeless body of Killebrew. The patient's rooms are no exception, since there is no sound and in the place it could be noticed how they had been forced into unconsciousness.

"It was her." The mutant murmurs, scanning the room, by the persistence of the smell he could assume that she had not left long ago, but that did nothing to relieve him.

"You're a genius, peanut, is there nothing else your Scooby doo nose can tell us?" He hisses frustrated, and steps back slightly at Logan's growl, the concern of both makes the tension return, and this time his thoughts are focused on her rather than on avoiding a beating by the mutant.

“The man said they were spreading it around the streets...” he begins, glancing at the mercenary out of the corner of his eye, but his brow furrows as he sees him abruptly exit the room. “Hey.”

He calls out to him, only to be ignored and reluctantly follows him, watching him enter the room where the doctor’s corpse was located. But before he can stand in the doorway, the mercenary speaks. “What do you smell when you’re in front of him?”

“What?” he asks out of inertia, frowning as he wrinkles his nose, the whole place reeked of stress, but it wasn’t easy to pinpoint the cause.

“I think she’s trying to relieve them. Like she did to me in the lab. He has signs of torture, see the stiffness in his body?” he asks, bringing his gloved hand to his jaw and though trying to understand him, Logan just looks at him as if he were stupid.

“He’s dead. Of course he's ten-”

“No.” He cuts him off, emphasizing the denial as he points to the corpses of the guards. “She killed him with her power, probably tortured him trying to figure out how to fix the rest.”

That catches Logan's attention, and he kneels in front of the corpse, squinting as he notices how the muscles on the man's body are much stiffer compared to the two men, and it's because of the proximity that he notices the blood staining his lips. “I don't use just pain.”

“Yeah. I think that was evident from the stain on his pants, I bet the remaining blood went elsewhere before he died.” The sarcasm in his voice stops and quickly when they hear hurried footsteps in the hallway and both become alert, but Logan is faster in approaching the door and intercepting the woman who was fleeing.

“ Woah, woah, calm down, blondie. ” Wade intervenes when he sees her struggle with the mutant, and the dismay in her expression is clear, as is the blood on her clothes.

“ What happened? ” Logan asks, frowning and standing in front of the door to cover the corpse of the doctor who had been staring so intently.

“ She tried to cure the affected. I told her it wouldn't work, but she didn't listen to me and then she tried to cure that man but d-died, she lost control. ” she stammers, swallowing saliva when she remembers it. As if she could still see the panic expression on her face as the old man's body fell at her feet, the blinding rage that preceded Killebrew's cries of pain.

“Fuck.” Logan curses under his breath, and he can feel Wade tense beside him, as if he’s remembering something.

However, the young woman continues to recount the situation. “I tried to get help, but she locked me in the bathrooms.” She answers in a firm voice, shuddering slightly under the mutant’s gaze.

“They’re unconscious. What does that mean?”

“It’s just temporary relief. Their blood, it creates an addiction process.” and from the expression on both of their faces, she can tell they’re aware of that fact. “Their powers create the stimulus they become addicted to. But in the absence of it, they tried to replicate it through normal means, and it worked.”

“Now, that’s just great, now you have a group of masochistic drug addicts.” He grumbles, and ignores the exasperated look the mutant gives him. “Is there really no solution?” ”

Logan's brow furrows even more as she sees her deny it. “No, it's not a nervous problem that she can fix, it's damage to the brain and the withdrawal syndrome that they get when they stop using it is even worse, the addiction weakes, but by becoming addicted to the pain, they end up not measuring the damage they cause themselves and put their lives at risk.”

/////////

Taglist: @bontensbabygirl @twinky-wink

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Bleach

[yoongi x reader] [1.3k+ of tolerable angst and fluff if you squint; nothing much going on but feelings are there]

A/N: I wrote this when I was missing Yoongi and weeks have passed and I'm still missing him. My bad on the late publish! Work and life got to me. :/ I hope you still remember me.

-

Yoongi hadn't moved since the moment he entered the shop and sat himself at your usual table at the corner of the artisan cafe. The spot hides you from everyone else, but you get a pretty view of passers-by. And while most patrons would avoid getting seated at the table, for you and Yoongi, it was a haven and you were just glad you didn’t have a lot of competition over the seats.

Thus, Yoongi thinks it's cruel, how, in a matter of minutes, the corner that once felt like a safe place for you and him, suddenly feels too claustrophobic for him alone. He wants nothing but to leave the place.

Your quick departure was a contrast to his static posture at the wooden seat—ruminating, processing everything. You left as quickly as you came.

He estimates you had only stayed for half an hour, and in those gone minutes, it was only you who talked while he was shocked and blindsided by what was happening that he was rendered speechless.

"Yoongi, let's break up."

No hello kiss on the cheek, or not even a curt Hi. You dived straight to the point. Your candor is a trait he appreciates, but today, he feels otherwise.

His brain struggled to comprehend what your words meant. He heard you, but somehow he didn't understand the words and all that followed. Yoongi is a man of few words—never one to talk nonstop or hold the mic at get-togethers; rather, Yoongi is a listener.

But just for today of all days, he hoped he was more vocal; articulate.

Yoongi heaves a dry rueful chuckle.

How unbelievable, he sighs.

Was this a fever dream? Did he accidentally fall asleep while waiting for you and if he wakes up now, will he find you still seated in your chair taking pictures of him as you muffle your giggles.

He finds himself bargaining to whoever was listening to let this be a dream.

The café starts to fill up, he notices.

For years, Yoongi sat on the very same chair his ass is at right now and across from him is where you should be… still—that's how it always was. He doesn't see the point of staying and saving the other chair now.

He looks around one last time. Yoongi holds on to the chance that you're still in the café pulling a mean trick on him and yet, as his eyes land on his pitiful reflection on the glass, he loses heart.

He lets a few seconds pass before he takes the cup of coffee he ordered for you, albeit it's too sweet and creamy for this taste, he'd rather not have it thrown away.

At least, he'd get to save something that shouldn't go to waste today.

-

People say when you do something in repetition, it dulls the emotion that it carries. He wonders how many more sad desperate voicemails must he leave before he stops the aching in his heart. He hates the yearning and anger that races within him.

"Y/N. It's Yoongi. Please answer my calls. I just... I need to talk to you. This can't be it—the end of us."

He isn't sure if he despises you for summoning these odd feelings out of him or it's himself he dislikes for acting this way.

Yoongi had been recalling the days you spent with and without each other before the day you broke up with him. He has been desperately searching for a reason—he needs to know why.

Was it something he said or did? Or was it something he DID NOT say or do? Or did you just wake up that day and decided you no longer loved him?

It's driving him insanely frustrated. He doesn't pray, but lately, he has been whispering pleas and promises.

One phone call—just this once. That's all he asks for.

His phone pings and a notification from you pops up on his screen—

Meet me at Hakdong Park, 7PM.

-

Yoongi fidgets by the swings. His habit of biting his nails resurfacing and he faintly tastes blood as he nibbles on his thumb. He peeps at his phone to check the time and it's not long before it's 7PM.

Just a few more minutes...

He hears you call his name, your voice demure; soft. He wouldn't have heard you if it wasn't so quiet in the park, aside from the cicadas chirping behind the bushes.

Yoongi quickly stands up, but before he could run towards you for a hug, he holds himself back and roots his feet on the sand. Instead, he waits for you to walk towards him. And as you approach him, he wishes you would hold him.

Just this once, he pleads once again.

But unlike his last request, this falls on deaf ears.

You sat down on the swing beside Yoongi. He copies you and sits next to you—mindful that his knees don't touch yours.

He hears you let out a defeated sigh and he was ready to lead the conversation this time, but you speak first.

"I miss you." You turn your head towards him and smile bashfully. As if what left your mouth was something that shouldn't have been let out.

Yoongi can hear his heart beating; the quick pace melting the bitter butter words you poured over his heart not long ago.

"Then why didn't you answer my calls?" He wanted the words he spewed to be pointed, accusing, but that would never be Yoongi. He would never raise his voice at you, nor accuse you of anything other than running away with his heart.

You hum as you scratch your nails in your jeans—a nervous tick of yours that Yoongi learned over the years. He also knows how to quell those nerves and his hands lingers before attempting to reach for yours.

"I was afraid of what you would say." There were long spaces of breath between your words, as if unsure.

"You were afraid? Of me?" Yoongi confirms. He's left more confused than the last time. He tilts his head to peek at you, but the darkness and shadows cover your face.

"Not exactly. I guess it's more of your words. I had to keep away from you because I was afraid you would change my mind...about the break up."

Yoongi hums and nods. "At first that's why I called you." He wouldn't deny it, because his first thought was to do just that. However, as emotions settled and he found himself in a better headspace, he realized he wanted more to understand why you wanted to end things with him. "But now, I just need to know why. At least make me understand where you're coming from."

Yoongi clenches and unclenches his hand to stop himself from shaking; his left hand still intertwined with yours. He glances again at you as you nod and visibly gulp air. He catches the shift in your eyes, and he knows how your mind works overtime. He wonders if you're thinking of an amicable reason to shoo him away or were there just too many reasons to consider that you had to take time and sort your thoughts?

The former has to be it. He always knew he was difficult to love—always lacking. Not enough of this, not enough of that. He thinks he's got your answer, and he thinks he might not be able to take it if he hears it from you—so he prepares to leave. Yoongi pulls his hand away from yours. The warmth between your hands were slowly but surely being replaced with the cold night air.

"I loved you too much," you murmur. Seeming afraid of your confession. Disregarding his earlier doubts, Yoongi stands from the swing only to kneel in front of you and take your freezing hands between his. His bloodied thumb circling your knuckles.

It wasn't a reason he expected nor considered. His confusion must have shone through his face that made you let out a sad smile.

"You really should stop biting your nails." Yoongi watches in slow motion as you take his hand in your palms and lift them to your lips for a soft peck.

"I will if you stop fraying your jeans with your nails," he quips.

You softly call for his name again.

"I'm here," he mumbles into your joined hands—the warmth returning and spreading further into your limbs.

"I just love you too much and the thought of running out scares me."

Yoongi pulls your hand closer, encaging your arms between his as he rests his forehead against yours, "Then I'll fill you back up. I'll love just as much. You already know I do."

-

[spnhunter4life]

Familiar Chapter 2

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: little bit of canon typical violence

A/N: This story was originally meant to be a one shot. But then I decided, "You know what? I'm not really happy with this ending. I'll just write one more little chapter to wrap things up." 🙄 Well guess what? If you've been following my work, you know that things always turn out longer than expected. So my 'little' wrap up chapter ended up being kind of long and had to be brought to a stopping point. So here's chapter 2 for you, and you can expect a third chapter as well! That will definitely be the last chapter though (she says with way less confidence than she would like).

Thanks to everyone who has liked, commented on, or reblogged the first chapter! I'm completely blown away by how many notes it's gotten. If you missed the first chapter, read it here!

Summary: Y/N comes back from a walk one day only to realize she can't remember where she was or what she was doing. The new case she and the boys were working must be abandoned in order to recover her memory.

Masterlist

Two months had passed since the shapeshifter hunt, and despite Sam’s encouragement, I still hadn’t said anything to Dean. He was making it extremely difficult for me to ignore my feelings for the older brother the way I always used to. Between his constant pointed looks and making up excuses to leave us alone together, I was about ready to snap.

My dreams about Dean were becoming more frequent too. With thoughts of him almost always on the forefront of my mind, he regularly featured in my dreams. I still had dreams like the one the shapeshifter had taunted me with, but these dreams had branched out into more sweet versions of Dean that left me longing for him even more.

I woke up from one such dream – one where Dean and I were in our very own house, snuggled up together on the couch, a movie playing in the background as we talked – in the back of the Impala. I looked around and saw that we were still on the interstate. We were on our way to Nebraska to check out a new case Sam had found. Four teenagers had shown up dead, all apparently drowned, but their bodies nowhere near water.

“How much further is it?” I asked.

“About 20 miles,” Dean answered.

I sighed and leaned my head against the window. Sam met my eyes in the rearview mirror and raised an eyebrow in question. I just shook my head. He glanced at Dean and back at me, smiling at the small frown on my face this gesture caused. He was getting annoyingly good at figuring out when I had been dreaming about his brother.

By the time we got to a motel, I was irritated and in need of some time away from both brothers. I told them I was going to walk to the diner we saw about 10 blocks away and bring home food for everybody. It would give me time to clear my head. I really needed to find time to talk to Sam about stopping all the teasing and trying to be supportive. Even though it wasn’t his intention, it was only making things worse.

~~~~~

“There you are!” Dean’s relieved voice greeted me as soon as I walked in the door.

“Seriously, Y/N, what took you so long?” Sam chimed in. “We were getting worried. I think Dean was about ready to start a search party.”

“Sorry,” I apologized, not sure why they were so worked up. “I haven’t been gone that long.”

“It shouldn’t have taken you an hour and a half,” Dean argued. “Where’s the food?” He added almost as an afterthought.

“What food?”

“The whole reason you left was to get food,” Sam told me. “What have you been doing?”

“Nothing,” I answered. Then I thought about it. What had I been doing? I was certain I hadn’t been gone for very long, but then, I realized that all I could remember was the walk back to the motel. “Just walking I guess? I don’t actually remember.”

“How can you not remember?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know!” I yelled, frustrated and confused.

“Ok, well what do you remember?” Sam asked.

“I remember… waking up in the Impala on the drive here. I guess I kind of remember getting to the motel. Other than that… I’ve got nothing.”

“Come here,” Dean said, gesturing for me to walk over to him. 

“Why?” I wondered.

“Just come here.”

I walked over to him and he immediately began feeling around my head.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Looking for a lump or some other injury,” he said, continuing his search.

“I think I’d know if I hit my head,” I told him, backing out of his reach.

“Apparently you’ve lost your memory. How are you supposed to know what happened?”

“If I’d been hit on the head hard enough for it to affect my memory, don’t you think I’d have a horrible headache at the very least?” I reasoned.

“Point taken. But clearly something happened. We need to figure out what.”

“Let’s just all head towards the diner,” Sam suggested. “We still need to eat, and maybe something on the way will jog Y/N’s memory.”

Nobody had any better ideas and he was right, we did still need to eat. So we went outside and started walking towards the diner. We’d made it six blocks when Sam stopped us. This particular part of town was the area where commercial buildings started being replaced by residential. There were multiple small businesses scattered throughout the neighborhood. Some buildings were obviously both people’s place of work and their home. 

“Do you think you might have gone in there?” He asked, pointing at the music store across the street. Through the window I could see guitars spaced out on the wall, a row of pianos under them. I loved the piano. I grew up taking lessons and badly missed being able to play. It was an easy, surefire way for me to calm down and clear my head, a fact both brothers were aware of.

“You did seem stressed when you left,” Dean agreed. “I’d actually be surprised if you didn’t go in. And that would explain why you were gone for so long.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t explain my memory loss. Think about it. An hour and a half, just gone. What are the odds of me forgetting such a specific chunk of time? Someone had to have done this to me. We need to find out who. And why.”

“I agree. Which is why I think we should go in,” Dean said. “If we’re going to find answers, we need to retrace your steps. We have nothing else to go off of.”

We crossed the street and Sam led the way inside. A little bell above the door announced our arrival. I scanned the room, looking for anything familiar but coming up empty. I walked over to the line of pianos, lightly running my hand along the tops of each one I passed. I stopped at the fourth one in line. A blur of memories raced through my head, but nothing that would help solve my current memory loss problem. 

This piano was very similar to the one I grew up playing. I remembered the hours spent on it, favorite songs learned and played enough times to become annoying to my family. The very same songs forgotten about when they became too easy and a new favorite came along. I placed my hands on the keys and played a few chords.

“Anything?” Dean asked. I just shook my head.

“Oh! You’re back!” Exclaimed a balding man who appeared out of the back room. He was probably in his early 50s and had a very friendly, cheerful demeanor. “You decided to buy this lovely instrument after all?”

“Uh, no. Unfortunately I have nowhere to keep a piano. No, I was just… passing by again and couldn’t resist,” I told him.

“Well, if circumstances ever change, I’d love to help you out!” He said.

I thanked him and placed my hands back on the keys, playing the opening notes to an old favorite song.

“Have you had a lot of business today?” I heard Sam ask.

“No, it’s been pretty slow today. But then, Mondays usually are,” the man answered easily. 

“I figured it must be a slow day when you recognized Y/N so quickly,” Sam said, subtly fishing for information.

“Well she was the only one in the store at the time, but even if there had been 20 other people around, she plays so beautifully I could hardly have missed her.”

The conversation ended there. Or at least, I think it did. I lost myself in the song I was playing, and all other noise faded away. Once finished, I turned around to face the three men. The owner of the store was looking at me with the appreciation of a fellow musician. Sam looked impressed as he always did when he heard me play. Dean… I couldn’t quite read the look on his face. The closest word I could come up with to describe it is awe. But I knew that wasn’t right.

The store owner glanced at his watch and regretfully informed us it was closing time. He thanked us for coming in and I thanked him for letting me play. The three of us exited the store and started walking in the direction of the diner again. 

We stopped in a couple more stores we passed that I might have gone into in an effort to destress. A small little used bookstore that was absolutely packed from wall to wall with books and an antique store, the kind that always reminded me of my history loving father and the countless stores he took me to growing up. Neither of these places sparked any memories either though, and as far as we could tell, I hadn’t stopped inside earlier.

“Well we have some explanation for where you were at least,” Sam said when we’d been seated at the diner.

“Yeah, but we still have no idea what happened to me. How are we supposed to get my memory back when we don’t even know where to start?” 

“I don’t know yet. But we’ll figure it out. We always do,” Sam assured me. This wasn’t much of a comfort to me at the moment, and Dean seemed to realize that.

“We’re going to figure it out, Y/N. I promise. I’d never let anything happen to you. You’re our priority right now. Everything else gets dropped until we figure this out. You’re our new case. Have we ever not solved a case?” He asked.

I smiled, feeling more confident with my situation. He was right. There was nothing we couldn’t solve when we worked together. 

“What’s our next step, then?” I asked.

“I have no idea,” Dean admitted. 

“Our next step is going to the motel and getting some sleep,” Sam answered. “It’s getting late and we have no leads. Our best bet is to sleep on it and get a fresh start tomorrow. And who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and your memories will be back in the morning.”

I didn’t really want to wait. I wanted to solve this now. But I knew Sam was right. We had nowhere to start, and being low on sleep wouldn’t help anybody, so I grudgingly agreed to this plan of action.

~~~~~

When I woke up the next morning, I kept my eyes closed and just laid there for a minute, working up the energy to actually get up. I heard the deep, even breathing of a sleeping person coming from the direction of the beds and the occasional shuffling of paper or clacking of a keyboard from the other side of the room. 

I rolled over so I wasn’t facing the back of the couch and was greeted by a rare sight when I opened my eyes. The unmistakable sounds of research I’d heard were coming not from Sam as I’d assumed, but Dean, up before his brother, the notorious early riser.

“What time is it?” I asked as I sat up. He looked up at me.

“Oh, hey,” he greeted. “It’s… almost seven.”

“And Sam’s still sleeping?” I asked around a yawn. Dean still picked up on the disbelief in my voice.

“I know, right? Lazy ass. Of all days to sleep in.”

I chuckled at his annoyed teasing and went to the bathroom to start getting ready for the day. When I stepped back into the room, dressed and teeth brushed, I saw Sam up and rifling through his duffle.

“Hey,” he said. “I don’t suppose you remember anything?”

“Unfortunately, no,” I sighed.

“Ok. Well I guess we should go get some breakfast and discuss next steps.”

“No need,” Dean interjected. “I already came up with our next step while you two were catching up on your beauty sleep.”

“You did?” I asked, surprised.

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” He answered. Before he could continue, Sam interrupted. 

“How long have you been up?”

“I don’t know. Couple hours.” He took a drink from a to go cup of coffee that I hadn’t even noticed he had.

Sam glanced at me, the look on his face one that he reserved for times he wanted to say ‘You two are so meant to be together’ but couldn’t say it out loud because Dean was in the room. He had said it to me on more than one occasion when Dean wasn’t around, which is how I know what the look translated to. 

“Anyway,” Dean continued. He picked up a phone book that was laying open beside him. “I found this psychic in town that should be able to help us. I figured we’d stop by her place after breakfast.”

“A psychic? I don’t know, Dean.” The thought made me nervous. Most of the people who advertised themselves as psychics were phonies. And even if this one wasn’t – which I didn’t know how Dean could be sure of – what if she wasn’t able to help? What if she saw something I didn’t want her to see? I’m a pretty private person, and the thought of someone digging around in my head is incredibly unappealing.

“Hear me out,” he insisted. “I’ve done my research, ok? She’s the real deal.”

“How can you be sure?” Sam asked.

“Because. I’ve done my research,” Dean repeated. “Look,” he said, spinning the laptop to face us. It was open to a website for The Amazing Annabelle. “There are dozens of reviews on here, and every one of them says she was able to help. And look at this.”

He slowly scrolled down to the bottom of the page, showing off the dozens of symbols and sigils scattered throughout. A lot of them I recognized as protection from various supernatural beings. There were a lot that I didn’t recognize too. They clearly marked her as knowing about the world of supernatural creatures though. Unless she had just pulled together symbols she thought looked cool in order to give herself an air of authenticity.

“Alright, fine. But a few good reviews and a bunch of symbols used by hunters doesn’t exactly prove that she’s psychic,” Sam argued. I had to agree. I didn’t want to hurt Dean’s feelings since he’d clearly put some time into this and I knew he was just trying to help, but psychics made me nervous. There was no way I would agree to go unless we knew for sure she was legit.

“Yeah, I thought the same thing. Which is why I talked to Bobby,” Dean responded. So this was the reason he was so confident. Bobby was highly respected among the hunter community. If he gave his approval on this Amazing Annabelle, then we really couldn’t doubt her abilities. “He said he’s not super familiar with her, but he has heard of her. She’s good at what she does and someone who can be trusted.”

“Ok,” I agreed. “Breakfast and then a visit to the psychic. I suppose the worst that can happen is she isn’t able to help.”

~~~~~

The first thing I noticed about Annabelle was how… normal she was. With the exception of Missouri, all the other psychics I’d ever seen were dressed in over the top outfits, their places decked out with all sorts of nonsense that was supposedly necessary for them to do their job.

If I’d seen this girl on the street, I would never have guessed what her occupation was. She was about our age and short, standing a full head below my 5’ 6” frame. And she was very pretty. I noticed both Sam and Dean’s immediate appreciation of her beauty. She was wearing white leggings and a purple shirt, her night black hair was in a messy ponytail that suited her very well, and her golden brown skin was flawless.

“What can I do for you?” She asked when she opened the door. Dean cleared his throat before answering.

“I’m Dean. This is Sam and Y/N. We were hoping you could help us with something.”

“I gathered that much,” she smiled. She opened the door wider and stepped to the side. “Come in.”

We stepped inside and she led us to a room that had an armchair and a comfortable looking couch as well as a round table with four chairs. She sat in the armchair so the three of us settled ourselves on the couch, Sam and Dean on either end and me between them.

“So. What can I help you with?” She asked again. 

“Do you have any experience with trying to recover memories?” I asked.

“Some, yes,” she said. “It really depends on how the memories were lost. Some are easy to find. Some take work, but can still be found with patience. Some, like in the instance of an injury to the brain, can’t be recovered.”

“We don’t actually know what happened. That’s part of what I need to remember. Our assumption is that magic was involved though,” I informed her.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” she assured me. “If you’ll come with me?” She stood and moved to the table, gesturing for me to sit across from her. The boys came and stood close by to watch.

“I’ll need some information from you in order to know where to look,” she said. “Give me as much detail as you can about these memories. How long ago was it? How much time are you missing? Is it relating to any specific object or person? Anything you can give me will help.”

“It was yesterday,” Sam explained. “She has an hour and a half chunk of time just missing and we have no clue why.”

“What were you doing when you lost your memory and how did you realize you’d lost it?” 

“I was just walking from our motel to a diner to get some food. I only realized what happened because I couldn’t actually remember why I left the room and I definitely didn’t think I was gone that long.”

“Ok,” she said, taking my hands in hers. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and instructed me to do the same. “I need you to concentrate as hard as you can on the moments from that walk that you can remember.” 

Then she chanted a couple lines of Latin and suddenly I was back on the sidewalk outside the music store. I was walking in the direction of the diner once again when I hit a block. It was like an invisible barrier I couldn’t pass. I tried to go around it and when that didn’t work, turned around to go the other way. No matter what I tried, I was stuck where I was.

And then I was back at the table with Annabelle, Sam and Dean hovering over my shoulders.

“Well?” Dean asked.

“I still don’t remember anything,” I told Annabelle.

“I know. Your memories were definitely blocked using magic. It’s a stronger magic than I was expecting. It’s up to you to decide how important it is that you get them back. If you want to continue, I’m going to have to put you into a trance in order to access them.”

“Is that dangerous?” Dean asked.

“It can be. But only if you don’t have a good anchor,” she answered.

“What does that mean?” Sam asked.

“I’m going to have to send Y/N deep into her subconscious to find answers. Doing this requires an anchor, a tether to reality, someone to bring her back. Otherwise she could be stuck in her own subconscious with no way out."

“That’s not a problem. Both of them would be willing to do that,” I told her.

“I’m sure they would, but your anchor can’t be just anyone. It has to be someone with a very strong emotional connection. Normally I recommend close family members or significant others for this sort of process. I’m assuming they are neither?” 

I hesitated. The answer, of course, was no. But I didn’t see how I couldn’t have a strong enough connection with them for this to work. Living the way we did – being with each other 24/7, trusting each other with our lives – created a very strong bond. Not to mention the way I felt about Dean. But maybe if it was one sided it wouldn’t work. And I wasn’t about to say that Dean was the safer bet because I felt our connection was stronger.

“Dean can do it,” Sam announced.

Dean and I both whipped our heads to look at him. I was sure the shock, irritation, and minor panic I could see on Dean’s face was mirrored on my own. I knew we were panicking for entirely different reasons though. For Dean it was worry that he wouldn’t be a strong enough connection for me. He didn’t want to risk me not coming back. For me it was worry that Sam was going to rat me out. And boy would we have words if he did.

“What?” He snapped at the death glares we were both now fixing on him. “You know it’s true. You’ve known Dean longer than you’ve known me. You two get along so well and know each other so well that if I didn’t know any better I’d think you’d known each other your entire lives. I promise your emotional connection is more than strong enough to handle this. And I swear if either one of you tries to deny how close you are right now, I will not hesitate to punch you.”

I looked at Dean at the same moment he looked at me. There was uncertainty in his eyes, but his jaw and shoulders were set in determination.

“I can leave you alone to discuss it if you’d like,” Annabelle offered.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Dean said. “It’s up to you of course – you’re the one taking the risk – but I’ll do my best to bring you back if you’re willing to trust me to do it. Otherwise we can try to find another way.”

“Of course I trust you. That’s not even a question,” I told him.

He watched me for a minute, weighing the sincerity of my words.

“Ok,” he said. “What do you need us to do?”

Annabelle stood up and moved to a shelf full of drawers on the edge of the room, opening different ones and pulling things out as she explained.

“As I already said, I’ll be putting Y/N into a deep trance. The magic is blocking your memories on a conscious level. Sending you into your subconscious will allow you to access them, but only while you’re in the trance. Once you’re awake, you’ll forget everything again.”

“Then how does this help us?” Sam asked.

Annabelle set everything she’d grabbed down on the table and then opened a cabinet underneath, grabbing a clear glass ball and setting it in the middle of the table.

“It helps, because you and I will be able to see everything she’s seeing while she’s in the trance.”

“What about me?” Dean asked.

“Since you’re the anchor, you’ll be inside her head too. You’ll be able to see and hear everything. Sam and I will only be able to see, so you’ll need to pay particular attention to things you hear as you’ll be the only one who knows those details.”

She began combining her ingredients, crushing leaves and mixing together powders and liquids.

“While she’s out, I need the two of you to be absolutely silent,” she told Sam and Dean. “You’ll both be fully aware of the noises happening around you. It could be tricky getting to the hidden memories, and distractions won’t help. Once we’ve found the information you’re looking for, we’ll need your anchor. At that point I need Dean – and only Dean – to start talking to her.”

She now had a liquidy brown paste in front of her. She dipped her finger into it and began drawing symbols on my forehead.

“It doesn’t matter what you say. Your voice, as well as your physical connection, will lead her back into consciousness.”

“Our physical connection?” I asked.

“Yes. You’ll need to be holding hands during this,” she said. Done with my forehead, she quickly drew an intricate swirling knot on the palm of each of my hands. She drew the same design on both of Dean’s palms and then worked on his forehead as well. I assumed the design was identical to mine. “Dean, if you’ll sit across from her, we can get started.”

She sat in one of the two empty chairs and gestured for Sam to sit in the last one. 

“Alright. I need you to tell me everything you can remember from the time just before your memories disappeared. Once you’re under, you won’t be able to talk to me. The more details I have, the easier I can guide you to the missing time.”

“I already told you what I remember.”

“No. I need more. Tell me exactly what the last thing you remember is. Is it walking out the door? Did you get a ways before you forgot? What were you thinking? What were you feeling? What could you see, hear, smell? Give me everything you can remember.”

“Well… I don’t remember leaving the room. I kind of remember getting to the motel, but that’s a little hazy. I guess the clearest memory I have is waking up in the Impala about 15 minutes before we got to town.”

“Ok. Let’s start with that then. What details can you give me about that?” She prompted.

“I don’t know. Not much. We were in the car. On the interstate. Dean had Metallica playing. I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to say,” I told her. If this is what it took to get my memories back then I was screwed. Coming up with little details from hazy memories wasn’t exactly easy.

“That’s ok. Don’t worry. How about how you were feeling? Can you remember that?”

I’d just had a dream about Dean. So a big mix of emotions. Happy, sad, longing, irritation. Irritation. Yeah. I definitely remembered being annoyed when we got to the motel.

“I was annoyed. When we got to the motel. I remember being annoyed. I imagine it’s why I left to get the food. And Dean said I seemed stressed.”

“Great!” Annabelle praised. “What else? Do you know why you were annoyed?”

“Um…” How to answer that truthfully but without giving anything away. I looked between Sam and Dean and remembered how Sam had picked up on what I’d dreamt about and silently teased me about it. “Just an argument with Sam.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“What argument?” Dean interjected. “You guys didn’t even talk to each other.” 

“No, but just because we’re not as close as you two are doesn’t mean we can’t communicate without having to say anything,” Sam said.

Dean looked shocked. No doubt he was wondering how often we’d had these silent conversations. Little did he know, they were always about him.

“Ok. Anything else you can give me?” Annabelle asked.

“I know I went into a music store and stopped to play one of the pianos. I don’t actually remember doing it though. Sorry, that’s all I’ve got.”

“That’s fine. I’ve got enough to work with. Remember, I need the two of you to stay quiet,” she told Sam and Dean. They both confirmed that they would. “Ok. Dean and Y/N, take each other’s hands and close your eyes.” 

She waited for us to follow her instruction before continuing. A stream of Latin, different from the first time, fell from her lips and I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into my subconscious. It felt a little like drifting off to sleep, so gradual that you’re somehow both aware and unaware of it at the same time.

~~~~~

Dean’s POV

As Annabelle’s chanting trailed off, a picture of my surroundings slowly began to take shape. I recognized it immediately. It was the inside of the Impala – from Y/N’s perspective. She was in the passenger side backseat, her usual place.

“Can you hear me Y/N?” Annabelle asked in a calm, soothing tone. “If you can hear me, I want you to get out of the car.”

I watched as my hand – No. Not mine. Y/N’s – reached for the handle and then she swung her legs out and stood up.

“Great. I’ll do my best to guide you to your forgotten memories, but this is mostly on you. If you seem stuck, I’ll help you figure out where to go, but otherwise I’ll stay quiet and let you figure things out for yourself. Now I need you to focus for me. I need you to think about the motel.”

The background around us flashed through a series of images. Different motels we’d stayed at over the years.

“The motel you’re staying at now,” Annabelle clarified. “The one you got to last night.” 

The flashing images slowed and came to rest on one. 

“That’s good, Y/N. Now I need you to focus on your emotions from last night. You got to the motel and were annoyed with Sam because you’d just had an argument.”

Y/N’s mind flashed back to the backseat of the Impala, Metallica’s Fade to Black playing through the speakers. She was looking at Sam in the rearview mirror, his eyebrows raised. I could tell by the view shifting back and forth that she was shaking her head. Sam looked quickly at me and then back to her, smiling. And then, memory over, we were back outside the motel. 

That’s it? That was their argument? No wonder I’d missed it. What did it even mean? I caught myself just before I actually asked these questions out loud, remembering Annabelle’s instruction to stay silent.

“You wanted to take a walk, so you offered to go get food for everyone,” Annabelle continued. I watched this memory version of Y/N walk out the door. “You stopped at a music store along the way. Did you stop anywhere else?”

We all sat in silence as we watched Y/N walk for several blocks, never stopping. She looked around as she walked, frequently turning her head to look at different things. I remembered Annabelle telling me I would be the only one with access to the sounds in her memory and started paying attention. I heard the chirping of birds, the occasional car driving by, a bell ringing inside a store as someone opened the door. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

Y/N walked past a group of teenagers and I listened in to their conversation. They were discussing the loss of their friends. The information I got from them was useless as far as Y/N was concerned, but I memorized their faces so we could question them once we’d helped Y/N and were ready to work the case we actually came here for.

She walked for another block and then stopped outside the music store. She stopped for a moment to look at it, and the world around me disappeared as she relived a different memory. I saw a child’s hands on the keys of a piano. I heard the music being played, a simple melody of Jingle Bells that the child was singing along to. I heard a grown man singing with her. The song ended and she looked up into the smiling face of the man I knew to be her father.

She crossed the street and walked into the store, heading straight for the pianos and trailing her fingers over them as she walked by, much as she had her second time through with me and Sam. She stopped at the same piano she did with us. Having seen the childhood memory, I now understood the draw to this particular instrument. 

I listened as she played a complex set of chords that transitioned into a haunting melody. I was entranced, as I always was when she played. It was clear it was something she deeply enjoyed and missed. I was startled as Annabelle’s voice cut in over the music.

“What did you do next? What happened when you were done playing?” She asked. I suppose this part of the memory would be particularly boring to her and Sam, who couldn’t hear what I could. Not to mention it wasn’t exactly helping us find out what happened. We did need to keep moving, I supposed.

The memory jumped to the last few notes of what had to be a different song entirely. Then Y/N turned around and saw the store owner standing there, listening intently.

“You’re a wonderful pianist,” he told her. 

“Oh, that? I was just messing around,” she mumbled at the compliment. 

I listened closely to their conversation. While he was pretty low down on my suspect list, he was also technically the only person on that list as he was the only person we knew to have interacted with her. Nothing sparked my suspicions though.

He continued to praise her abilities, she continued to brush them aside, and he asked if she had any interest in buying the piano she’d been playing. 

“I would be very happy to sell it to you,” he told her. “It’s not often I get to sell an instrument with the confidence it will be used and well loved.”

She politely turned down his offer and then told him she needed to be going, that her friends were expecting her to be back soon.

She left the store and continued her walk. Although I couldn’t actually feel her emotions, I could tell that playing had calmed her down significantly. There was just something about the way the world looked to her now.

She made it another half a block before she stopped. I could discern no reason for this. She simply stopped walking. After a few minutes it became apparent that something wasn’t right.

“This is where you got stuck the first time we tried finding your memories, isn’t it?” I heard Annabelle ask. “Whatever happened to block your memories, this is where it happened. The magic is still putting up a fight. I need you to push back. It can’t stop you from seeing. It’s all in your head that you can’t go any further. Just keep walking.”

We all waited for a couple minutes as she struggled with pushing past whatever spell was holding her in place. 

“You can do it,” Annabelle encouraged. “You’re stronger than the magic is, I promise. Keep walking.”

Another minute passed and I knew she was winning because noises – which I hadn’t even realized had disappeared – started filtering through. It was like hearing something from underwater. Muffled, hard to make out, but definitely there. Then, all at once I could hear voices clearly and we were moving forward again.

I heard the sounds of a struggle coming from the alley in front of her. She quickly walked to it and then slowed to a stop just outside, listening. There was the unmistakable sound of chanting and underneath it, gurgling. 

“Perfect,” she muttered under her breath. She reached into her boot to grab the silver knife she always had with her. “Wish I had my gun right about now.”

She peeked her head around and saw a teenage boy standing over another one. An endless stream of water was spewing out of the lips of the boy on the ground and he was choking on it. The chanting boy was facing her. The second she stepped into the alley she’d be spotted. But the drowning boy didn’t have time for her to find a better plan of attack.

She rushed in and the boy stopped his chanting when he saw her. He started a different chant, just a few words, and then he raised his arm, flinging her into the building beside her. The knife she’d been holding went flying out of her hand. I desperately wanted to run to help her, to make sure she was ok or to kill that boy. I didn’t know which desire was stronger, but I reminded myself that it didn’t matter. This was a memory. It was all in the past and I couldn’t change it now. I just had to watch and learn what I could. That’s how I would help her. Because now we had his face and we could track him down.

Hand still stretched out to hold her in place, he looked back to his original target, now desperately gasping for breath. He continued his chanting, and the poor boy on the ground only lasted a few more moments.

“Why are you doing this?” Y/N asked him. “What could he possibly have done to you to deserve that?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” the boy snapped at her. “No one does.”

He started marching in her direction.

“You should have left it alone,” he snarled. “If you’d just kept walking, everything would be fine. But now you’ve seen too much. And you have to go too.”

He started up his chanting again, directing it at Y/N this time. I could hear water falling from her mouth and hitting the ground. I could hear the sound of her gurgling and choking. I couldn’t bear it. How had she gotten out of this?

“Thomas!” A sharp female voice called from the other end of the alley.

The chanting stopped as the boy looked in the direction of the voice. Y/N immediately started coughing the water out of her lungs and gasping for breath. She looked at the person who had spoken. She was a woman in her late 40s or early 50s at a guess and she was fuming.

“What is wrong with you?” She asked as she smacked him over the head. “Don’t you think you’ve left enough bodies behind? Do you want to attract the attention of a hunter?”

“She saw me! What was I supposed to do?” He protested.

“You were supposed to have not killed another person to begin with! We talked about this! I’ve covered your messes your whole life, but I can’t hide murdered teenagers. Especially when you’re as sloppy about it as you’ve been and especially when you don’t even tell me about it!”

The boy hung his head in shame. But not guilt. Apparently he’d been raised to do a better job of hiding his crimes. Witches. I hated them.

“Well I have to kill her now. She’s seen too much,” Thomas argued.

“No. We’re already far too at risk of hunters coming to town. You can’t add another person to the body count. Especially so close to your father’s store. Do you want him to find out it's you killing people? About the fact magic is real, and you use it? No. We’ll erase her memory and send her on her way. She won’t be a problem.”

The witch grabbed an already made hex bag out of her purse and placed it in Y/N’s immobilized hand, forcing her fingers to close around it. I knew that she would have been fighting to get free, but since she was completely stuck there were no visible indications of this. I had been in that position more than once and knew the frustration of being unable to move.

The boy’s mother started up her own chanting and the memory we were in started fading to black. It continued with Y/N standing just outside the music store. She seemed confused at first, looking around as if trying to get her bearings. Then she turned and headed back in the direction of the motel, completely oblivious to what had just happened.

“Ok,” Annabelle said. I’d forgotten she was even there. “It’s time to bring her back. Go ahead and talk to her, Dean.”

At the mention of my name, I saw my face flash through her mind. I was sitting beside her on a couch and smiling. I didn’t remember this particular day. It could have been on any given day at any random motel. 

I wasn’t really sure what to say, and just babbling whatever words came into my head seemed silly, but getting her back was more important than my discomfort.

“Y/N,” I said, pausing to think of my next words. The memory in her head changed. Now, rather than seeing from her perspective, I was in an outsider’s point of view. And I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. “What the hell is that?” I gasped out. 

With a mix of excitement, shock, and confusion, I watched a guy who looked remarkably like me – although it couldn’t have been because I knew this had never happened before – lift Y/N in the air, spin her around a couple of times, and then set her back on her feet before leaning down to kiss her.

“I thought we were in her memories,” I said.

“You are,” Annabelle answered.

“No we’re not. We can’t be. That never happened.” 

“Then it must be a memory of a dream. Focus, Dean,” Annabelle instructed. “Be her anchor. Bring her back.”

I tried to concentrate on my job, but all I could see was the image of us kissing playing over and over in my head. 

“Can you please think of something else?” I practically begged her.

I was grateful when the memory – or whatever it was – flickered and changed into something else. Only this was no better. We were kissing again, only this time sitting on a very nice couch in a very nice room. It changed again. Sitting in the front seat of the Impala together, just the two of us. Kissing. Another change. I had Y/N pressed up against a wall. We were really kissing in this one.

It changed again and I breathed out a sigh of relief. She’d pulled up a random memory of her in one of her college classes, back before she quit school.

“Ok,” I breathed out and then cleared my throat. “Ok.” If I thought I didn’t know what to say before, I was really stuck now. What was I supposed to say to her after seeing all of that?

“Ok,” I said yet again. “You need to come back now. You have to find your way back. Sam and I are waiting for you.”

“It’s not going to work,” Annabelle said. “She’s trying too hard to keep her memories in control to focus on finding her way out of the trance. Y/N, don’t worry about what memories surface during this. Your only job is to come out of it. Listen to Dean and don’t worry about anything else. And Dean. Don’t worry about finding the right words. Say whatever comes naturally. That’s what she needs.”

Say what comes naturally. This would be a lot easier if I didn’t know Sam was listening to my every word. But Y/N was counting on me. I took a deep breath to prepare myself.

I said her name again. The memory of the classroom flickered to one of me in the driver’s seat of the Impala, singing along to Led Zeppelin. Y/N was in the back, singing with me and Sam was smiling in the passenger seat, refusing to join in.

“If I’m being honest with you, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to say right now. But you trusted me to get you out of this and I’ll be damned if I let you down. So I need you to do your part too. Find your way out of this. Come back to us.”

Memories flashed by as she searched for a way back into consciousness. I saw memories of real things, memories I shared. Us in the car, in motel rooms, on hunts. Her patching up a knife wound on my bicep, me holding her close and carrying her after her run in with that shapeshifter. There were more memories of things I didn’t recognize too. More dreams, I suppose. Us out on what could only be interpreted as a date. Us curled up together in bed, talking. Us dancing together in an empty parking lot, a slow song playing from Baby’s speakers. And more dreams of us kissing in various scenarios.

It would have been so easy to get lost in all of these memories, in seeing myself the way she saw me. And in wondering how she could apparently dream about me so much, apparently have feelings for me, without me ever knowing. But I made myself focus on being her anchor.

“Do you know how glad I am that you’re a part of my life? I sometimes wonder how I ever managed without you. And you know you can’t leave me and Sam on our own. We wouldn’t last without you. We’d probably kill each other.”

I watched as the countless swirling memories of us switched to ones of me and Sam. She remembered more than one instance that proved me wrong. She thought about all the times Sam and I had leaned on each other and kept the other going. She was essentially telling me that while she appreciated the sentiment, she knew we’d be fine without her.

“Alright, fine,” I said. “Maybe we’d get by fine on our own. That doesn’t mean either of us want to. You’re too important to us. So come back to us,” I repeated. 

She seemed to be flipping through her memories, as if looking for the right one to bring her back.

“Come back to me.”

I became the focus again, a memory of me standing outside on a bright sunny day and laughing at something she’d said flitting into her mind. But she pushed it away to start looking again.

“Don’t worry about the memories, remember?” I told her. “Just focus on me. Listen to my voice. Try to feel my hands,” I encouraged her. Different memories floated by again, pulled up at random by my words, or maybe the tone of my voice. I didn’t know. They almost all circled around just the two of us though. More dreams of us kissing flashed by.

The shock I felt at these images was lessening and I was beginning to be more comfortable with them. So, following Annabelle’s advice, I let myself respond naturally. I let go of the tight leash I usually kept on my natural inclination to flirt. It wasn’t something I’d ever done with her, not wanting to scare her away. If only I’d known how she really felt.

“You know,” I drawled, wishing I could flash her a smile. “If you wanted to kiss me so badly, you only had to say something. We can definitely do something about that. But only if you come back to me.”

There was a rush of memories flipping by so quickly I couldn’t make anything out in any of them. Then everything went black and I became aware of my own body again. I tentatively opened my eyes and saw Y/N sitting across from me, Sam and Annabelle on either side of us. 

I smiled a little. I wanted to know if she’d found her way out so suddenly out of embarrassment and a desire to escape or excitement and anticipation. 

“Don’t forget, she won’t remember any of what just happened,” Annabelle warned me. 

“I know,” I said. That wasn’t a problem. It was a lot easier to take a shot when you could see clearly. And I could finally see everything.

Chapter 3

Tags: @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

[centipede-gutzz]

🃏 COLD COURT [LC JESTER x GN READER]

A/N: sorry, you're going through the horrors this time.

SUMMARY: The Cold Court of Dine is cold and unforgiving, and the Jester is no different. Yet, it could be different for you.

WARNINGS: scenes containing death and violence.

TYPE: fic, gn reader, platonic, angst with comfort from the thing that literally killed your teammates not too long ago.

"Alright, that should be the last of it."

You nod in agreement as your teammate puts down the rubix cubes one of them found in the loot pile. Said teammate, or Orange, sighs in relief. Another successful job in the cold planet, Dine.

Your crew managed to save up a decent amount of money to land here, in hopes of better loot to reach the next quota more efficiently. And for once, it was a mansion! A nice break from the steamy pipes and creaking metal of the railings. And surprisely enough, no casualties were to be had.

The previous run didn't end well. You recall losing one of your mates to a Coil-Head. He didn't react in time when the sound of scattering footsteps quickly approache them from behind, catching him off guard as his head was ejected from his body. Blood stained your suit as you stared down at his corpse, the spring sticking out where his neck once was wobbling around.

It was a gruesome sight to behold. You're lucky the others were there to help you, handing you the loot to escape while they took care of watching the Coil-Head. They managed to escape with you soon after, but you can't stop the guilt from invading your mind. You could've saved him, perhaps if you were faster. It's too late now. As quick as he was gone, a new employee arrived to replace him. The newbie seemed to do just fine, despite being a nervous wreck (you all nicknamed her Yellow, due to her suit color). You can't blame her, this job isn't exactly an everyday choice. This time, you hope that things will turn out differently.

"Woah hey, what the hell is that?!"

Orange's voice breaks you out of your thoughts as you turn your head towards him. He seems on edge, taking a step back as he points to the doorway on the other side of the room. You open your mouth to speak and turn to look at whatever he saw. Before you can even speak, you let out a startled noise at the sight.

It's a jack-in-the-box. The thing is huge, more bigger than any other one you've seen. It has legs too, with a singular arm on its left right below the crank. You quickly activate your scanner to figure out what the weird toy was. A "jester", the words read from your scanner. It certainly didn't look like one, no funny hat or ringing bells to accompany its design.

It just stands there...menacingly. The box slightly moves up and down in an idle manner, as if waiting for something. Your teammates quickly scramble to grab whatever loot they can hold.

"I don't what the hell that is, but I don't think we should stick around to find out," Orange rambles out. You quickly nod, your grip on your items tightening.

As soon as you were all about to leave, the Jester raises its arm to reach for its crank. It begins to crank itself with a steady pace, the song "Pop Goes the Weasel" coming from the box. Dread washes over you as you take a few steps around the box towards the door it came from. The exit shouldn't be too far from here, if your memory serves you correctly.

You call out for your teammates to leave, one of them already making a run for it. You soon follow but quickly turn around to see Yellow staring at the Jester.

Your voices rings through the air as you call out to her, pleading for her to move away from the box. She doesn't move as she responds, "But...what if it's fine? I used to have one of these as a kid, and the most it would do was scare me! Surely it won't be any different, right?"

"IT VERY MUCH COULD BE! We can't stand here forever and risk everything, we gotta move," Orange yells out. He lets out a noise of frustration when she doesn't budge and he puts all of his loot into your hands. He looks at you with a serious, yet sorry look.

"Hey bud, I'm sorry you have to be put in this situation again but we can't lose our stuff. I'm gonna try to get her out of here, but you gotta get this stuff back to the ship. Blue's still there, they should be starting the ship by the time you get there," he says. You shake your head in response. You can't lose another one again! What if something happens again? They've gotten this far, it doesn't have to be this way.

It feels like he can read your thoughts or perhaps noticed your quivering body and panicked breathing as he continues, "I know things shouldn't be like this again, but who knows what happens if we miss quota? Just run, we'll be right behind you!"

He pushes you out of the room and runs to Yellow, tugging at her arm and yelling at her to leave. The song never stops, the speed increasing as time goes on.

It's the same thing again. You feel helpless, once again the last resort. Your grip on the loot falters for a second before turning to run towards where the exit should be. The sound of Pop Goes the Weasel and your teammates voices echo through the halls of the mansion as you run as fast as you can.

What if something happens? Your thoughts quickly begin to swirl, making you come to a halt. The glass of your helmet's visor fogs up as you begin to hyperventilate. You can't be a coward again. There's a reason why you lost your teammate, and maybe even these ones if you just run away. You argue with yourself back and forth, undecided if you should continue to the exit or go back to your mates. Your mind seems to go with the latter, your shaking legs quickly turning around to go back.

As you take a step forward, you feel that something is off. You can barely make out the distant sound of screams, both human and not. Fast and heavy footsteps are heard muffled beyond the hard walls of the mansion, and whatever is causing them doesn't sound friendly. It's too late now, it was always too late for you.

You choke back a sob as you turn to run away from the horrible noises. It doesn't last long, seeing how whatever caused your teammates' deaths is quickly approaching. You go around a few corners that you swear were ones that could lead you out, but you were only met with an empty room. You fall to the floor with tears filling your eyes, items clattering to the side as you clench your fists.

Perhaps this job was never meant for you. Maybe it was all just twisted luck that got you this far. Fate is cruel, and she had much more in store for you. There's no time to play the blame game, the Court Jester is waiting. You face the doorway, face to face with the one who's responsible for your end. The wall touches your back as you make a poor attempt to delay your death and scoot away from the Jester.

It's screaming. Not out loud, nor in pain, but it sounds faint. What was once just a box is now flesh and bone, empty eye sockets staring into your soul. Broken sobs and pleas leave your mouth, wishing for another outcome than this. You and your teammates were nothing but thieves, commoners that trespassed this Cold Court. Perhaps this is for the best. You close your eyes shut and fearfully accept this fate given to you. It's cold and relentless, the fear never-ending. Exhale, and await your shortcoming.

...

.....

...the screaming doesn't stop. Even with your eyes shut, you can feel the Jester looming over you. Somehow, boldness finds its way in your mind as you open your eyes to peer above you. The sight isn't pretty.

It's way too close for comfort, bloody teeth and gore filling your sights. It's surprising that you didn't faint yet. Despite this situation, you can't help but smile weakly. Nervous laughter meets faint screaming as you mumble out a simple greeting. Maybe you truly lost it.

The Jester opens its jaw, blood dripping and landing on your helmet. You wince and extend your arms to protect yourself, whatever that could do. It's probably just toying with its food at this point, how cruel can this thing get?

Apparently, it has other things in mind. You feel yourself being lifted up from the ground. Teeth bites at your suit as the Jester settles you in its mouth, dangling like a bear would catch a fish. One bite, and it's all over. You can't stop shaking in fear, even with the Jester walking out of the room. Its gentle with its hold on you, footsteps thudding against the wood flooring.

How the hell did you end up here? This is not something you ever imagined happening to you. The feeling of flesh squishing against your sides makes you cringe. You bite your lip to stop a noise of complaint, no doubt it could kill you in an instant if you insult it.

It walks through the dark halls perfectly, like it knew the entire layout by heart. You recoil at the sudden bright lights attacking your eyes as you both end up in the main room. It stops nearby the door and settles you down as gentle as it could.

Both of you stare at each other silently, waiting for the other to make a move. This thing killed your friends not a while ago, so why can't you move? Despite the obvious danger levels of the Jester, you find yourself muttering a quiet "thank you".

The Jester twitches, seemingly pleased at your thanks. It lowers its skull towards you and exposes the top, nudging at you against the door. You make a noise of confusion before cautiously raising you hand to pat it softly. You don't feel like testing how sturdy it is compared to your human skull. It quickly raises itself up, bouncing in excitement like a puppy who's horrors is beyond your comprehension. Bits of gore fall from the box from its movement and you try your best not to show your disgust. You wave a small goodbye towards the Jester and quickly exit out the door.

You've never been more excited to hear the crunch of snow beneath your boots. It becomes red from the blood on your suit, but you don't seem to notice. Luck seems to be on your side again, with the Jester being kind enough to let you go. It doesn't feel like the best of fate, but you decide to accept it.

The Cold Court is unrelenting, the snow never stopping for a moment. A kingdom with no king or queen, instead a Jester to take their place. You were blessed to be spared by the faux ruler, the gift of horrible memories containing your teammates screams and cries forever following.

It's cold, and unforgiving.

[wishingstarinajar]

I know, I know I'm a scratched record

But I'm dying to hear your thoughts on the Wakfu finale when you get to it!

I just finished watching it and it's uuh... hmm. I read people saying the finale was "satisfactory" but I am not fully on board with that sentiment.

Too much left unanswered, not enough wrapped up, too rushed to get to the end.

I know the Waven game is a continuation of sorts, it takes place decades after Wakfu's conclusion so that game might hold some answers or closure, buuuuttt... I'm not interested enough in the game to play and find out. I guess I've grown a bit tired of the whole cross-media info/lore some franchises love to do (like Blizzard and covering important info across the Warcraft games, books and short stories).

Wakfu season 4 obviously has an open ending, no matter that it is the final season, so who knows what might follow. I'm just a little saddened that the story picked up a little too late this season but the animation, particularly during action scenes, was pretty great... when not using the same static images of characters xDD They loved that a little too much but I understand the budget wasn't that big so I can't really fault Ankama for it.

Did I like this season? Mmmyyeeaaah, it's a mixed bag. Better than season 3 but not better than the first two seasons or even the OVA episodes. Glad it exists but I don't feel super satisfied with its conclusion.

HEAVY SPOILERS ahead, so be mindful but gonna share some thoughts:

Seeing Joris play a bigger part in the second half of the 4th season, and him vibing with Adamaï made me very giddy and happy. Love that for them, hope they become good friends. And thank fek neither of them died. RIP, Qilby, Armand and Brakmar (maybe?). The guys who needed to redeem themselves got their chance, at least.

Goddess Eliatrope was a big disappointment and an unlikeable character but I guess that was kind of the point...? Angry that she totally ignored Chibi and Grougal, like what the fuck even? Didn't even show a hint of acknowledgment towards them. What if they wanted to meet mom, huh?? And what even happened to Baltazar and Glip, who were in Emrub with the same kids that were asleep in Goddess Eliatrope's belly? What did she do with them?

But hey, at least my headcanon that the Sadida and Eliatropes will combine into a single kingdom/people (which I also wrote about in my Rebirth fic) actually happening was pretty satisfying x'D It even has Wakfu-infused trees, om nom nom.

A little frustrated with Necroworld (not the same Necroworld from the Transformers: Lost Light comics) because it's supposed to be a different planet in some other universe but it had dofus (dragon eggs) and races of the Twelve like Sadida, Sram and Sacrier. It was pretty confusing... Imo, it should have been something similar to The Upside Down (Stranger Things), or an alternate version of the world of Twelve rather than a completely separate place. But eh...

Why did nobody care about the state Inglorium was in, or that the Gods have disappeared? That bothered me so so so soooo much during the first two episodes; nobody non-Eliatrope or non-demigod cared that their God/Goddess was... well... gone. Aside from God Iop, where are they?? Hated the disinterest, hated the silence around it. Guess that's a mystery that will be unraveled in some other media.

Yugo grew tall and handsome and I'm not afraid to say it. Happy for him, though him suddenly growing so quickly was a bit silly. I figured there would be a time skip to justify his 'growth' that we saw in promotional images and teasers. Won't complain though, he deserved to finally be in a body that reflects his actual age, it took him long enough!

"Bootleg Alys" from the Dofus movie made a cameo in episode 11 which made me snerk. (I noticed a few more background characters from the movie that were re-used in episode 11.)

And that's all I have to say, at least here on Tumblr. It was quite a ride.

A big thanks Ankama and all the Kickbackers that made it possible; this show had its ups and downs over the past decade but it was enjoyable and loved. It still holds a special place in my heart and I will keep a tiny eye out for more Krozmos stuff in the future (like Welsh & Shedar, gimme!!).

[livingdeadmlm]

Day 1: Tentecals/Monster Fucking

Warnings: use of ABO terms, light breeding kink near the end, SMut written by someone who has never written it before ‼️‼️CRINGE‼️‼️

Dude thought he could give church just one more time. He’s never coming back again. He arrived at a time when he felt the building was empty so he could have that small amount of peace for himself, he didn’t even know churches were open so late. However, when he heard a scream from the basement of the church and ran to check it out he was met with the sight of a large…. Entity. Its large appendages rushed to his boots and back to the… body, back and forth like an awful ocean wave. 

“Eaugh I’m guessing you don’t talk.” The writing of the meat sacks never stopped. He leaned forward to attempt a closer look at the full look at the creature.

“Let's not be so hasty Dude…” The sunglasses hid his widening eyes as he took a step back. 

His face became a sneer as he tried to find some eyes in the darkness beyond the tentacles…? The voice you spoke with sounded like it could be coming from anywhere in the dark, it almost sounded like it was in his head echoing repeatedly. 

“I can't tell if it was more gross in general or the idea that you have a mouth in there.” his voice trailed off.

“I am something beyond your mind can comprehend but for you, I can maybe take a form you can stomach.” The tentacles retreated and there was an awful wet noise that followed it. Stepping out of the shadows you looked like a normal person well a normal person dressed as a priest. 

“I knew something was up with you Catholics.” Your hands were crossed in front of your chest.

“You people tend to have more trust in these religious figures and, well I need to eat now and then.” Dude laughed “I have some bad news for you but I think you shouldn’t know.” You huffed and passed dude up the steps back to the chapel. Following you up you began to ramble about your time on earth and in the town. 

“I do wish I had chosen a different moral figure in your human eyes, Due to this one I must be prudish or else people don’t think I am the real deal.” Your voice was strained as the building frustration began returning to the forefront of your mind. Dude was shocked, What aliens had sex? 

“Yes we do Dude and it's getting to that special season in my kind’s life where we feel the need to have a family but seeing as I’m here I am stuck alone.” A sigh left your mouth as you started lighting candles that had gone out because of the wind.

“Have you tried taking the whole garb off? Maybe even keeping it on can help you get a lady friend.” Why was he even trying to help you get laid? He should’ve just gone back home by now. Shaking your head, you waved a hand towards Dude. “The women of your humans are quite lovely, however, I prefer the males of your species. They remind me of home much more than the women do.” 

“If I help you would you be willing to help me? It’s been a while for me as well since I got divorced…. Well even during the marriage-” from your human form, the tentacles shot out of your back and held onto any part of Dude they could. It was so quick he couldn’t let out more than a yelp. 

A bit of moisture on the tentacles began to soak through his clothes. Your priest's garb became loose on your body as you stepped closer and closer to dude writing form. 

“Are you sure? This may be more intense than the way your species mates.” Dude nodded 

“I think I know what I’m getting into with these.” He grabbed one of the free tentacles, feeling it pulse in his hands. Two separate appendices made their way up his pant legs slowly tearing the stiff denim off each of his legs that swayed in the air. Whatever your tentacles were covered with seeped out in larger amounts and into his skin. Another pair of tentacles made their way up his shirt slowly caressing every edge of his torso. 

You pulled him into a surprisingly soft kiss, compared to the firm hold of a tentacle held onto his cock. The constant caressing made his brain go fuzzy. The separate appendages were all warm against his body; it felt like more than one person was showering him with affection. Dude looked up to the ceiling being met with the many eyes of the apostles staring in the same direction he was. 

Well, he had to be going to hell for sure now, gay sex in one of the many houses of god was crossing a line. Did it even count if it wasn't another human man? He couldn’t think about it any further when he felt his skin heating up more and more and the cold hands of your human form guided his head back down to you. Tossing his gasses to the side his eyes were half-lidded as he strained against your hold needing something from you, really anything will do.

His hands strained against your tentacles he wanted you closer to him, or to even touch himself. He groaned at the lack of friction you offered. The bottom half of your uniform had fallen off of your human form and left his eyes with a strong set of legs that looked like they were from a painting thanks to the dim candlelight inside of the church 

He felt so outside of his skin, never thinking he would get to a point where he was begging a preacher for anything let alone to please give him more of something. Your lips continued to work against his and he felt dizzy at the lengths your tongue reached into his mouth. His eyes finally wandered to your face. Your eyes were shut but your whole body was against him, so much focus on him. It made him feel self-conscious but any attempts to hide himself were in vain as you easily just pulled his legs open more. Your feet shuffled against the floor closer to the dude's shaking body.

He took his chance to pull you in close, legs wrapped around your hips he took the chance to grind against you. Practically drooling he humped against what he assumed was also your cock against his. He wasn’t the most sure as now the tentacle that was previously dormant had found its way into his boxers and made its way up to his shaft slowly. He couldn’t see what your shaft looked like; he wondered if maybe you made it large just for the occasion or if it was true to your “true form”.

You had moved down to his neck leaving various marks on it that no doubt would stick around for a while. Your hands made their way to his boxers and thanks to your nails, he hadn’t noticed they were like daggers until now, they were shredded apart. He continued rutting against you now being able to feel it without the dulling effect his underwear had. Your cold hand trailed up to his chest and squeezed whatever flesh you could hold onto.

Everything began to feel more intense. Whatever liquid was spewing out of you started to have a sweet smell that took over his senses. One of your more moderate-sized tentacles made its way to his face, staring at the tentacle. The sweet smell seemed more and more appetizing to him.

A strained moan left Dude's throat as he began to speak, “Put that in my mouth.” Your eyes shot open as you stared up at Dude, his eyes not even looking at you but the tentacle that was in front of him like it was its being. Dude lurched his head forward trying to reach it as a drop of the slick that was on it dripped onto the floor, “You humans are odd, please don’t bite it.” 

The tentacle rested against his tongue and subconsciously he began to suck on it earning a moan from you. Dude continued his motions wanting more noise out of you, he saw your face contort, scrunching up as your legs slightly staggered. The tentacles got tighter around each limb, and each part of his body was held. The slick came out more and more into his mouth and he wanted more and more of it. You felt weak, this wasn’t done on your planet, never even considered taking someone's tentacle in their mouth. 

Finally, he felt a warm and wet tentacle wrap around yours and his shafts squeezing them together, it felt sloppy but there were no complaints from either of you. You went back to leaving marks across his neck and collar, still grinding against Dude you could feel him twitching between you and the quick-moving tentacle. 

Dude’s sucking got harsher as the tentacle went deeper into his mouth his legs began to shake and his vision flashes white. With a whine, the wetness in the tentacle the two of you shared got more soaked. A thick glob of slick-filled dude's mouth as he did his best to swallow it down. As he gasped for air the dude felt himself being lowered closer to the ground by not being let go. 

“Ugh, what's going on? I don't think I can go again-” You held his head in your hands as his legs got pushed up further. “You could make an amazing nursery for an offspring, I won't fertilize the eggs but I say we should see if you can take it.”Your cock pressed against his ass, he could feel it twitch. He could also feel two smaller tentacles grope at his ass and thighs. Dude grew hard again as he panted out an agreement to try this new thing, he was already this far, go big or go home.

[gothgril69]

Levi Ackerman/Fem!Reader Royalty!AU

Summary: You dream of another life, a simpler one under the rays of the warm sun, where you find love and your brothers live happily.

But you're destined to serve, to be the black sheep of the family and married off to whoever your father pleases because your parents can't seem to harbor any love for you. Your brothers will serve in the war, side by side with their Chevaliers, and you'll be left to pick up the pieces or die trying.

And the one you thought always hated you, will be right by your side to catch you when you fall.

Overall Warnings: themes of sexism, minor character death, angst, depression, minor character death, smut (please check ao3 for all tags)

Chapter warnings: light smut? MDNI

Chapter Length: 8.6k

ao3 link

The shores of Mirlenas disappear into the horizon, the home you’ve known for your whole life turning into a small blip before its gone. The sea waters are rough and choppy, causing the modest boat Erwin procured to rock back and forth. He suggested traveling in a smaller boat instead of a navy vessel to appear non-threatening to Kaslogon and you had agreed to his suggestions, trusting every word of his – he has far more knowledge than you do. It would also mean less crew members and less mouths to feed on the journey. Roughly half of the ships population were your own soldiers while the others were seasoned sailors.

You lean against the wall of the ship, looking out as you sail on. The new men surrounding you regarded you as their queen, but you could sense that they were uneasy. Many of them never stray too close to you, and you notice them all laying a hand on an iron horseshoe that’s mounted in front of the quarterdeck.

“Feels strange to leave,” Levi’s voice sounds from behind you as he steps to look out at the choppy waters with you.

“It does,” you agree, eyeing him instead of the sea.

“Good day, Your Majesty,” a sailor nods at you, dipping his hat. He passes you to touch the iron horseshoe, placing a kiss on his fingers that meet the metal.

You give Levi a questioning glance. “It’s bad luck not to touch it,” he answers.

You furrow your eyebrows at him. “A sailor’s superstition I presume?”

“Yes. A woman’s presence is also bad luck.” He walks over to the horseshoe and briefly touches it with his thumb.

You scoff and harshly pat the horseshoe. “I suppose I should set up my quarters then.” You brush past him to enter the tight corridor that leads to your small bedroom. There’s enough room for a small bed and your chest with your clothing and belongings – the dark stained wood makes the space feel more cramped. Levi follows you.

“It’s just sailors’ superstitions,” he says from behind you. “You said it yourself.”

“I suppose Mikasa and Sasha are not welcome either then?” You turn around to face him, posture relaxed with your arms crossed in front of your open bedroom door.

“They are soldiers and regarded as such,” he sighs. “Just how you are their Queen.”

You hold the small knob on your door and gesture for Levi to follow you in. You all but collapse on him the moment the door is shut, allowing him to catch you and wrap his arms around your waist. “I feel as though this journey will be forever long,” you sigh, arms limp by your sides, face squished against his chest. “It has only been two weeks of travel and I have yet to do anything we’ve set out to do. I am supposed to face Zeke, but will I be too tired by then to even care? If the ocean takes me I do not think I would mind.”

“Never speak like that again,” Levi vehemently whispers to you, using a hand to tilt your face to his. “It will all be worth the effort, to face him and be there for your country, for us.”

You look back and forth between his grey irises, finding frustration and sadness within them. “I did not mean it, Levi,” you whisper. “I only wish for a break from my never ending thoughts is all.”

“Tell me what I must do to help and I will,” he whispers back, a thumb stroking your cheekbone.

You relish in the feeling of his touch, of a familiar presence there to comfort you from your treacherous thoughts. A friend – that you wish could have been there all your life – a person that might be able to stitch your heart back together without Auguste or Theo’s help. Someone that you can look to for solitude or courage to move on, someone that can offer a helping hand when you need it most. You can only hope that you are there for him as much as he is here for you.

“I just need you,” you tell him honestly. “You are my one saving grace.”

“Then I am here,” he answers instantly. “I’m here now.” Because he knows he should have been there for you sooner.

You find a surge of courage in your heart, and reach to place a small and gentle kiss on his cheek to show your appreciation of him – a gesture that may show the depth of your feelings for him.

His cheeks flush and his eyes widen with surprise, the harsh blinks his eyelids move in make you giggle, surprising both yourself and him again. “I should be on the deck.” You gently step back, removing yourself from his arms in the process. “Join me when you feel you’re able.” 

You cover your mouth to stifle a laugh, finding amusement in how much emotion you can draw out of the usually stoic man.

Levi stands still as you leave, placing two fingers on his cheek where your soft lips once were.

The top of the deck is covered in sunshine, hardly a cloud in the sky as the wind whips against the large white sails and carries you onwards. The air is balmy, more humid than you ever imagined and warmer for a late autumn day. The crew is running all over, your own soldiers following some to learn their own duties and you’re proud to see the youngest of them eagerly listening to their teachers. Erwin and Hange seem to be lost in conversation, Hange’s hands moving so fast you can hardly see them, and their grin tells you they’re enthralled in their own story.

You spot the Captain behind the wheel on the quarterdeck and lift up your skirts to climb the stairs. The man is less unruly looking than you had initially anticipated, assuming all sailors had a certain level of grime they wore as a requirement. His hair is grey, but neatly pulled back low and the wrinkles around his eyes aren’t too deep. He looks around fifty – old for a sailor. He’s not handsome by any means though, and fits the image of a sailor perfectly with rough tanned skin and slightly battered clothing. You’ve never known any different than the handsome men that worked for you at your castle. Your cheeks flush at the thought.

“Captain!” you shout over the bustling crew and waves hitting the sides of the ship.

“Your Majesty,” he greets you. “Captain Beaumont, but you may call me Charles if you please.”

“A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Captain,” you smile politely, putting your minor diplomacy skills Auguste had taught you to use. Although, you assume the Captain doesn’t prefer such pleasantries just like yourself.

“It would be an honor to have you dine with me this evening in my quarters, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you. I will knock when dinner is being served.” You nod your head and look out at the rest of the ship.

You spot Levi heading towards your soldiers, arms crossed and the blush gone from his cheeks and replaced by the stern look he gives the young ones. He yells something you can’t hear from your spot on the quarterdeck, but you see your soldiers stand tall with a salute. Erwin walks up to him and places a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to mutter in his ear. Levi follows Erwin’s movements and turns his head – you meet both their gazes. You take it as your que to join them, giving one last nod to the Captain of the ship and lifting your skirts to climb down the steps.

“Everything alright?” Erwin immediately asks once you are within a meter of them.

“Yes, of course,” you answer. “The Captain invited me to his quarters to dine with him this evening.”

Levi narrows his eyes at you, but Erwin speaks before he has the chance. “Excellent. He is a good man, but Levi has informed me of the sailors’ superstitions that do not sit well with you. Be cautious of his intentions.”

“If he is a good man then I would not need to be cautious of him, Erwin,” you calmly respond and turn to Levi. “I’d like you to guard the door.”

“Of course.” His response is instantaneous, as if he were already thinking of doing so himself.

—

Captain Beaumont opens his door wide, allowing you to see the spread of food he has on his table and a large desk that sits behind it. He gives Levi a small nod, seemingly understanding of his presence, and gestures for you to enter. You give Levi a very quick and small smile before stepping across the threshold into his quarters.

“Thank you for having me,” you state as you take a seat across from him.

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty.” He takes his own seat and begins offering you the food that lies on the table.

A neat array of a couple choice meats are on a platter, along with a row of cooked carrots and potatoes. You’re grateful for the vegetables and ample amount of meat, but you can’t help but feel guilty about indulging in such foods while the rest of the crew gets rations instead. 

You hesitantly take your fork and stab a piece of what looks like chicken for your plate, and an ample amount of carrots. You take your first bite and chew slowly – it’s bland, but you never expected it to be a delicacy by any means.

“Captain–”

“You may call me Charles while we are in private, Your Majesty,” he interrupts you.

You give him a tight lipped smile. “Charles,” you start, clearing your throat. “It’s come to my understanding that your crew has some… unusual… superstitions.”

“On the contrary, Your Majesty. My men need those superstitions to give them hope that they have done everything in their power to have a safe journey.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “That also gives them the opportunity to lose that hope if they believe someone has not contributed.”

“Perhaps, but quite honestly your presence is more bad luck than not touching the damn horseshoe,” he scoffs as he digs his knife into his piece of meat, using his fork to shovel the food into his mouth. “Quite honestly,” he says with his mouth full, “if we had our way you would be bare-breasted to please the sea, but you’re lucky the figurehead at the front of the ship does it for you.”

“Excuse you?” Anger is clear on your features as you watch the man pick food out of his teeth with his fork – you grimace. You set your own flatware down on the table.

“A woman’s bare breasts calm an angry sea,” he states, as if this were common knowledge. “It prevents any curses from being thrusted upon us.”

“Well how kind of her,” you spit out. “I think I’ve had enough for one evening. Thank you, Captain.”

You stand up from your chair, the legs screeching against the wood floor as you throw your cloth napkin down on the table, and the Captain mirrors your actions.

“Your Majesty,” he frantically says, seemingly realizing his poor mannerisms. “I did not mean to offend you, I merely wanted you to understand the men’s customs.”

“That’s quite alright, Captain, but I’ll be taking my leave,” you scoff at him and begin to make your way to the door.

“Your Majesty!” He exclaims. “Please. I do not wish to disappoint you. I just wanted to give you perspective.”

“You may do so without insulting me,” you sneer back at him, meeting his eyes with a fierce gaze.

“Please.” He gestures to your previous seat. “Let us try again. It was my mistake.”

You reluctantly sit down, but you don’t touch the meal in front of you – you’ve lost your appetite. “Need I remind you of who I am?” you question. “I’m aware of your status as Captain on this ship, but I am still your Queen and you are still a subject of Mirlenas.” You detest using your status as Queen to earn your respect, but with a man as daft as Captain Beaumont you’re not sure you have much choice.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” he apologizes. “I would like to give you insight on the views of my men on my ship. They are simple, believing that men are above women.” You stare at him with narrowed eyes as he continues. “I am not a man with such opinions.” He holds a hand to his heart. “But they were quite surprised to see a woman becoming Queen without a husband to join her as King. It is quite rare for a woman to come into such power, let alone lead a group of soldiers to enemy soil.”

“Well they can thank our enemy for putting my brothers into the ground and in turn making me Queen,” you reply. “I did not ask for this position, but I’ll be damned if I sit back and watch as my country falls apart by the hands of a man like Zeke Jaeger.” You leisurely stand up from your seat – the Captain rises quickly. “Your men have a lot to learn, and I suggest you begin teaching them how to respect their Queen. Thank you for the meal, but I’ll be retiring for the night.”

You don’t spare him a second glance and you don’t wait for him to open the door for you, instead choosing to swing open the door yourself and close it behind you swiftly. Levi raises a brow at you in question.

Your shoulders drop in his presence. “I’d like to be alone if you don’t mind. Just in my quarters,” you sigh when you see him open his mouth to speak.

How much more difficult does it have to be to convince the people of your country to be content with your ruling? That you didn’t want this just as much as they would rather see one of your brothers on the throne instead, but that you’ll still take care of them. You’ve devoted your life to your country now – traveling to an enemy country to negotiate their safety should prove that notion. Instead, you’re told that you are a daft, moronic woman who has no hope of ruling her country.

You never make it to your quarters, instead choosing to watch the waves crash into the sides of the boat as the wind carries the sails. It’s a cold night now that the sun is gone from the sky and the winds carry the chilled almost-winter air, but it’s clear and you can see the stars.

Footsteps sound behind you. “Forgive me,” Levi’s voice barely sounds over the waves. “I know you said you wanted to be alone.”

“I have forgiven you a thousand times over, Levi.” You don’t turn around to face him, only keeping your eyes on the distant stars. “You know,” you say as he finds his place by your side. “Auguste was always so knowledgeable when it came to the constellations. He always pointed out his favorites, quoting Galileo and being so much more astute than I could ever hope to be.”

His arm snakes around your waist, holding your backside to his chest – a first that you find yourself sinking into. “You miss them?” His deep voice is soft in your ear.

“Terribly,” you respond immediately, dolefully.

“Then believe they are in the stars,” he murmurs. “Believe that Auguste, Theo, and Furlan are looking down at you right now, proud that they had the chance to live by your side.”

“They would think I’m a fool,” you whisper back.

“Never.”

“Auguste would call me a dolt, and Theo would agree wholeheartedly,” you argue miserably.

“When have they ever done such a thing?” Levi questions. “They would never chastise you for being so strong, for being so resilient.” You’re quiet because you know he’s right. “You are only a dolt for thinking so.”

You laugh and relax further into his arms. “You are honest to a fault.”

Levi raises his other hand, the one not snaked around your waist, and tilts your head to the side so he can look you in the eyes. “Always,” he whispers. His eyes dip down, briefly looking at your lips, before they’re back on your own gaze in an instant.

Your own are flicking back and forth between wanting to hold his gaze so desperately, but the urge to feel his lips on yours again is overwhelming. You can’t be so desperate for affection, can you? Is it your unbearable desire to feel someone against you, for comfort or for pleasure, or is it your deepening affections for the man himself? Have you lost yourself so completely in the drowning stress? Or have you just always wanted Levi? The man who you can no longer doubt you are falling for.

“Tell me no,” Levi whispers, his lips slightly grazing your own. “Tell me you don’t want me to.” His thumb strokes your cheek softly as he holds you so delicately in his strong arms. Your pulse is thumping rapidly. You don’t have the words – you can’t speak.

You tilt your head the miniscule amount you need so that your lips are now pressed against his. The kiss is soft, but chaste and quick, much like the first one. What is technically the third is more firm, your lips now languidly moving against his as he spins you around to pull you close to him, and you lose count the more passionate the kiss grows.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him as close as possible as he does the same to you. You’ve somehow been wedged between the edge of the boat and Levi as he presses his body into yours. Your mind is swirling, lost in how he feels against your body and the realization of how fond you are of the man. The kiss is only broken when a small moan escapes you as you end up lost in the pleasure of it all.

Levi presses his forehead against yours, only barely removing some of the pressure on your body from his own. “And Auguste would say he told me so,” he breathes, a small chuckle escaping the smirk on his lips.

“Always a man of wisdom I suppose,” you breathlessly tell him. “Glances into the future we all wish we could tell.”

He leans back from you. “Always told me I’d grow fond of you one day,” he mutters, a hand resting on the side of your face. “Thought that man was a true dolt.”

You huff, a teasing glare directed at him. “How kind of you,” you quip.

“I never realized how right he was,” Levi confesses. “Always the stubborn sister of Auguste and Theo, until I watched you become a woman as I became a man. You deserve more than the world has given you, Aeron.”

“I have all that I truly need,” you disagree, because you have him, and while you miss your brothers terribly you do not feel the lingering dread of going to sleep any longer. The fear of seeing them in your dreams has dwindled, even if only slightly, and you know Levi is right when he tells you how they watch from the stars. You’re grateful you can still remember their features, fearful that you’ll forget one day. But they will live on in your heart, always, and if Levi is by your side you can accomplish anything. You can accomplish anything even if he were to leave you as well, because you are strong and it is your duty to live on for yourself and your people.

“I would give you the world if I was more than your Chevalier.” Levi takes a step back and looks down, as if realizing he is not meant to touch you.

“You are a million times more than a Chevalier, Levi,” you argue and take a step towards him so you are close once again. “What an idiotic notion that you could ever be considered less than.”

“But I am, aren’t I?” Levi meets your gaze with sadness lacing his grey irises, brows furrowed. “I have only ever been that to you. I am hardly fit to be a King by your side.”

“And you could say I am hardly fit to even be a Queen,” you dispute. “A woman with no man by her side, hardly any royal training to accompany her.” You scoff. “As if our country wants me on the throne – my ruling is hardly conventional. Do you honestly think they would mind as long as a man is there to tell me what to do?”

“I would never–”

“I know. But that is not the way our society works now, is it?” You sigh, and close your eyes for a moment before looking at him again. “You are more than just a Chevalier, Levi. I–” You love him. “I need you.”

“Then I’ll be there.” He nods, the sadness gone from his gaze and replaced by determination.

“Join me in my quarters tonight?” you inquire gently, testing the waters and seeing if there’s any hesitation in his actions.

Levi instantly takes your hand and guides the way to where you sleep soundly for the first time since your brothers joined the stars.

—

You’re in a daze. Your blouse is sticking to you uncomfortably as your corset squeezes your waist, strands of hair have plastered themselves to your forehead, and the loose skirt you’ve chosen to wear provides no comfort. You’ve found a hat to help block the harsh sun rays from your skin. 

Levi has been wearing a loose white blouse, the top two buttons undone to allow for some airflow and his normal tight uniform pants. He hides his pale skin with a hat as well to shield him from the sun, although it doesn’t stop the sweat from sticking to his skin – something you both hate the feeling of.

The ship hasn’t moved for two weeks now, stuck, stranded, in the middle of the ocean with no wind to guide it and no clouds in the sky to block the harsh rays of the sun. You’ll run out of fresh water to drink if you don’t get moving soon and the Captain has understandably cut everyone down to half their rations. 

Your anxiety is at it’s peak it seems, and not just about dwindling resources. The longer you are out at sea, the longer it takes to reach Kaslogon and negotiate with Zeke. You’ve worried your chapped bottom lip to the point of splitting, and the hem of your blouse has started to fray from so much fidgeting. Levi has tried his best to comfort you, but he knows you’ll only be pacified once you begin moving again.

“Captain, you tell me what kind of situation we’re looking at here,” Erwin huffs. “We’ve wasted enough time.” His voice is loud in the salty air of the Captain’s office, bouncing off the dark stained walls. Erwin is separated by the table you dined at two weeks ago, but it feels as though he looms over the Captain. Everyone is exhausted and running out of time and you’re growing more anxious by the second as you watch the two men argue. 

“I cannot control the weather, Commander Smith,” Captain Beaumont fires back. “Do you doubt that I have done all that I can to get this ship moving? Do you really believe that I want to be stranded in the middle of the damn ocean?”

“Well clearly–”

“Aeron,” Levi’s voice interrupts Erwin as he barges through the door into the Captain’s office. “The men. They’re fighting.”

“We’re gonna have a goddamn mutiny on our hands if you don’t get your men under control, Commander!” Captain Beaumont accuses, angrily pointing at the taller man.

Erwin ignores him in favor of rushing after Levi to the main deck. You stop the Captain from following with an arm across his chest. “Captain, I do ask that you refrain from disrespecting my soldiers.”

“I have pledged my loyalty to you alone, Your Majesty,” he scoffs. “Your Commander does not deserve such respect.”

“He does, because he is under my command,” you calmly tell him. “Try your best to remember that we are all on the same side here.” You don’t speak any further, removing your arm from across his chest as a sign to let him join everyone on the main deck – you follow promptly.

There’s absolute chaos once you’ve reached the main deck. Your men are arguing against Captain Beaumont’s, a clear line separating the two groups as Erwin, Levi, and the Captain try to calm their men down. You’ve never seen your soldiers so defiant.

You don’t waste time and immediately step on a crate that sits in front of the quarterdeck, still on the main deck. You put your thumb and a finger in your mouth and whistle loudly, loud enough that the sound pierces the noise of arguing and even has some covering their ears. Everyone looks at you bewildered – except when you meet Levi’s gaze he almost seems smug.

“Who wants to tell me what the hell is going on?” you yell at all of them. You’re exhausted, sweaty, and fed up with being on an unmoving ship for too long. Your journey has been extended by two weeks and you’re livid.

“Your Majesty!” Jean yells.

“No! You have no idea what you’re saying!” one of the Captain’s men yells at Jean. Chaos ensues.

You whistle again, louder than the first time. “If one more person speaks you’ll be sent down to the cellar to join the rats,” you seethe. You notice Armin has been cowering behind your own soldiers, observing fearfully. “Armin,” you single him out. “I’d like you to tell me what’s going on.”

The timid young man clears his throat. “Captain Beaumont’s men have accused us of not touching the horseshoe and cursing the ship.” He pauses, clearly debating his next words. “They think that’s why there’s been no wind and they want to throw someone overboard to please the sea.”

You could throw yourself overboard. “No one is going over the edge of this boat.” You jump down from the crate and stomp towards the crowd – it parts for you like the Red Sea. “You act as though nature does not have a mind of it’s own.” You look back and forth between the groups, mainly addressing Beaumont’s men. “I’m sure you have faced countless angry seas with your own men, and surely you’ve faced hardships no matter how many people participate in your beliefs.”

“Never one so callous as this!” A man interrupts you. Your glare must give him all the warning he needs when his mouth snaps shut.

“There have been tales,” Armin’s voice sounds next, surprisingly. You step into the crowd as your own soldiers part for him. His cheeks are flushed, both from embarrassment and the heat, but he continues on. “Of how the wind gods become angry with the sea god.” A few men chuckle uneasily – you listen intently. “The Anemoi wind gods take their wrath out on Poseidon, depriving him of nature’s winds and eventually unleashing their might upon him when he does not amend his wrong doings. Boreas, the cold breath of winter, shows their wrath the most. They create strong winds and rainstorms, hurricanes even if he had wronged them enough.” He hardly glances to the side out at sea. “Their wrath is coming soon.”

A strong gust of wind almost knocks your hat off.

Everyone’s eyes widen and cheers sound around you. 

“Man the sheets, lads!” Captain Beaumont’s voice rings out. Chaos ensues again, but now in radiating cheerfulness as everyone runs off to man their stations.

“Aloft, topmen!” the Captain’s secondhand yells. “Layout and loose the foretops! Man halyards and sheets!”

You swipe a hand over your face and stride over to Armin once the crowd has dispersed. “How did you know?” you ask him immediately. Levi stands at your side.

Armin blushes, glancing between you and Levi. “The Albatross.” He points out at the waters. “When they fly high, the air is light, dry, no rain. When they fly low, the air is heavy.”

“Rain is coming,” Levi says, almost absentmindedly as he looks out at the sea. Armin nods.

You smile at the young man. “Thank you.” Armin walks away with a smile.

You look over to find Levi already looking at you – you love when he does that. “You did well,” he comments.

You roll your eyes and turn to hide your smile as you begin walking away from the bustling of men. “They’re all idiots,” you deflect.

He scoffs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re just now realizing this?”

You’re about to respond when a drop of water lands in front of you, and is suddenly joined by multiple coming down harshly. It’s pouring rain, and you’ve never been happier. You take off your hat and tilt your head up to the sky to feel the rain on your skin, to allow it to wash off the grime that you’ve endured for the past two weeks. Your shoulders drop and you feel the tension disappear from your muscles, your anxiety diminishing into a small ember instead of a raging fire.

Men are shouting around you and yet you can’t find it in you to care as you make your way into the safety of your quarters. They’re rolling empty barrels everywhere, positioning them under makeshift funnels made out of fabric to capture the rain for more drinking water. Levi is hot on your heels and as soon as you close the door to your quarters he’s practically on top of you.

“How am I supposed to stay away from you now?” He questions right before his lips meet yours.

You kiss him back eagerly, only breaking away to quickly mutter, “you can’t wait until we return to Mirlenas?” and your lips are on his again, only to separate when he registers what you’ve said.

His arms are wrapped around your waist, holding you as he slightly tips you backwards in his previously impatient attempts at kissing you. “Wait for what?” he asks vacuously.

He allows you to stand straight, his grip loosening just enough, but still keeping his arms wrapped around you. You laugh nervously. “Were we not talking about the same thing?”

“Are you–” He blinks, processing. “You would allow me to claim you?”

“Why would I not?” You stare at him dumbfounded, slightly flushed from embarrassment that you’ve said the wrong thing. “If that is not what you meant, I understand–”

“No,” he interrupts. “I mean– I would–” He sighs, flustered. “I assumed you would want to wait until marriage,” he finally mumbles out.

You laugh boisterously this time. “As if anything about me screams traditional, Levi.” You grin at him.

He rolls his eyes, muttering a quiet, “shut up” before pressing his lips against yours with bruising pressure. It’s hot, and passionately impatient, as he starts to walk you back to the small bed in your cramped quarters. The back of your knees hit the edge of the thin mattress and he gently lays you down before crawling on top of you, his head bumping the wall next to you. “Fuck,” he grumbles, but still proceeds to move his lips down to your jawline and then your neck, sucking at your pulse point. 

You can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. “Levi,” you practically mewl.

He gently puts a hand over your mouth, supporting himself enough to look at you now. “If you don’t be quiet someone will hear us,” he scolds. You nod, but he still keeps his hand over your mouth as he dives back down.

His lips trail further down your décolletage and you tilt your head back to give him more access. You’re hardly breathing through your nose, unbearably still as Levi continues pressing his lips to your skin. “Breathe,” he mutters, nipping your skin lightly before he soothes it with his tongue. You whimper underneath his hand and your chest starts moving up and down as you catch your breath through your nose. His lips travel lower and he kisses at the top of your breasts that are being pushed up by your corset, your blouse revealing enough to allow him access.

You moan against his hand as he starts sucking at your skin again and nibbling enough to lightly mark the skin. Everything he’s doing to you feels heavenly, and all you want is more. Your hands have been gripping the thin bed sheets, but one flies up to grip Levi’s hair when he bites particularly hard and when you pull he groans. He lifts his head and removes his hand just to kiss you again, using his tongue to coax your mouth open as you pull on his hair again.

“Keep doing that and I don’t think I can wait to be back home,” he mutters against your lips, his voice deep and raspy.

“Then don’t,” you whisper, looking into his grey eyes. 

He sits back on his haunches, staring down at your breathless form. You’re so beautiful, he thinks to himself, observing how swollen and red your lips are from him kissing you, and the blooming marks on your breasts practically make him swell with pride – he wants nothing more than to have you now. Your skirts have fallen, revealing some of your legs and he so badly wants to squeeze your thighs, but he wants it to be so much better than what it would be here. “You deserve so much more than I could give you here,” he tells you honestly. You look sad, but it’s gone from your features in an instant.

He lies down next to you, holding you close to him now that the two of you are no longer eagerly pawing at each other. He can hardly fathom how he’s gotten here, how he’s gotten to the point of lying by your side instead of looking at you with disdain. Theo had always teased him when it was just him and Furlan by Levi’s side, always telling him he was just confused. Perhaps he saw something in Levi’s eyes that he could have never recognized as fondness at the time, and apparently so had Auguste. He knew there was more to it the moment he had asked Levi to be your Chevalier on the castle grounds instead of his own. There was a mischievous glint in his eye when he also teased about Levi’s underlying fondness for you, but he had brushed it off as your brother being an idiot – Levi knew he could never be.

You shift, pressing the side of your face into his chest despite the damp fabric. Your fingers trace his exposed skin from the top buttons of his blouse being undone, featherlight touches giving him goosebumps. He can tell you’re lost in thought.

“What is it, mon cœur?” He feels you smile against him once he’s broken you out of your trance. He uses the hand holding your body close to his to brush hair out of your face.

Your smile falls, sighing, and then clearly hesitating – you’re nervous. “Madame Elise was quite fond of you,” you state plainly, fingers still tracing light circles into his smooth skin.

He blinks, unsure of what the intonation in your voice suggests. “She practically raised me,” Levi hesitantly tells you. Your finger stutters in it’s movements before continuing.

He’s afraid to tell you about how he lived before Erwin dragged him out of that hell hole. Afraid that you won’t see him the same way anymore and the rose tinted glasses will come off to reveal the brutal truth behind his true self. The him before arriving at the castle was someone entirely different – someone you had no idea existed.

“Will you tell me more?” your soft voice asks, slightly muffled as you keep yourself close to him.

And so he does.

Levi takes his time in telling you the whole story, never omitting details or sugar coating his actions. He starts from the very beginning, when his mother was just a whore in that very same brothel you both visited, and how his father was just a one time visitor. “I barely remember her face,” he tells you sadly, holding onto the vague image of the pale woman with strikingly beautiful features. She had died when he was just a little boy, probably five or six around the time, and Madame Elise had barely allowed him to stay. How could a little boy living in a brothel be any good for business? Levi supposes she just happened to have a soft spot for the scrawny little boy with long black hair.

She took care of him for the most part, realistically only offering him the bare necessities to live. She cut his hair for him, kept him well fed and clothed, but not without a price. He became her personal scavenger, a small and unsuspecting pickpocket. It was easy money really, stealing from wealthy men and just having to sneak around to get close to them. He’d play it off as if he wasn’t there to begin with, or act like he was helping the ladies if they needed it. Everyone was in on the small business he had created for Madame Elise and would assist in any way they could. They loved having little Levi around.

Levi hesitates to tell you more, but you should know all of him – all of his flaws. As he got older the more Madame Elise expected from him. He was supposed to be stealing more, acquiring the most for her and the other ladies of the brothel, but it grew increasingly more difficult to do since he was growing into a man. He wasn’t the little runt anymore and was instead seen as another potential customer by the other men in the brothel – even by the women. They all knew him, but that didn’t stop their advances on him as a young and inexperienced teen boy. They would grope him quickly as he passed by in hopes of taking him to bed with them, taking someone who was pure and untouched by the outside world. Levi hated it, and never indulged in the company of any of them, but it didn’t take away the feeling of being seen as an object. He could hardly believe the same women that knew what that felt like would do the same to him. You tell him it’s not his fault, sympathy and guilt lacing your voice – he knows now.

He had started to grow tired of being there, needing a way out and soon. It was when he was distracted by his own mind that everything turned sideways. He was pickpocketing still as a young teen, barely fourteen, and hadn’t noticed the Mirlenas army emblem on the coat that was hanging over the chair.

“You stole from a Mirlenas soldier?” you ask incredulously, propping yourself up on one elbow on your side to look at him.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I didn’t realize it. The Commander’s emblem is different from the rest.”

“Erwin?” you squeak out, eyes wide.

He nods, continuing to tell you how Erwin caught young Levi snooping around his coat pocket. He had caught his wrist, preventing Levi from pulling out the dainty green emerald necklace Erwin had in his breast pocket. Erwin had been there for a meeting with another officer, immediately abandoning it in favor of taking Levi outside the establishment to scold the boy and figure out what the hell he was doing.

But Levi saw his way out. Erwin was an understanding man just like he is now and felt sympathy for the young boy that was only ten years younger than himself. Erwin was a young commander, perhaps naive at the time, and allowed Levi to straggle along with him instead of living day to day at the brothel. It gave Levi a purpose.

“I was good at it,” Levi sighs. Good at killing, his mind tells him, but he knows he doesn’t need to say it. “Being a soldier. I felt like I could finally fucking do something with my life.” You lie your head back down on his chest, drawing your soothing circles into his skin again.

Levi was quickly recognized as the best soldier and was quickly appointed to be a Chevalier for the royal family at just fifteen.

He huffs out a laugh. “I remember the ceremony,” he reminisces, a hand mindlessly trailing along your bare shoulder. “And I remember the brooding girl on the edge of the royal seats.” His voice is teasing, but you almost sound sad when you respond.

“Not brooding.” You pause and prop yourself up again. You look into Levi’s eyes, the colour of your irises sparkling as you look at him with such fondness despite the dim light. “You’ve been through so much. I’m so glad it led you to being a Chevalier at the castle.”

“You don’t seem repulsed,” Levi observes aloud. You still look at him with the new light he’s seen in your eyes recently. The same look you get when he’s close enough to feel your heartbeat, the same one you looked at him with when he couldn’t help but connect his lips with yours.

“I could never be repulsed by you, Levi,” you scoff, the light still not leaving your eyes. “You’ve managed to find your way into my heart and I cannot find it in myself to be angry with you for it. I welcome your affections with open arms now.” You kiss his chest and he swears you can feel the way his heart pounds against his ribcage. “I would be nothing without you.”

“You’ve bewitched me,” he breathes. He loves you. He knows the feeling in his chest has always been love, and he can finally admit it to himself now. It feels as though a weight has been lifted.

Levi pulls your body up to be eye level with him, using his other hand to tilt your face up the slight amount he needs to press his lips against yours. It’s soft, and sweet like honey, as your lips move languidly with his. He feels intoxicated by you, but allows you to relax despite his desire to get drunk on your taste.

He thinks about how nice it will be to bathe tomorrow morning, and enjoys your company by squeezing you closer to him as you drift asleep.

—

You couldn’t have been asleep for more than two hours when you’re woken up by your body crashing into the wall your bed is pressed against. It startles you, jolting you awake in an instant, and you realize Levi isn’t next to you anymore.

There’s shouting that’s muffled by the wood in between your quarters and the main deck, and the boat sounds like it’s being pelted over and over by bullets. Another harsh movement of the boat causes your body to jolt into the wall again, your head narrowly missing collision. You use one hand to rake your hair back out of your face, the other preoccupied by ensuring you don’t get knocked out by the boat’s erratic movements.

Standing is difficult, but you manage to balance yourself enough to straighten out your skirts and walk to the door. You swing it open, using a hand against the walls to keep yourself stable, and it’s then you realize just how hard it’s raining. It’s pelting the boat so harshly you’re not surprised you mistook the sound for shots being fired, and the thunder that booms through the sky and penetrates every being sounds like cannon fire.

You’re almost panicking at this point, wondering if everyone is okay on top. You push yourself through the hall, needing to make sure everyone is alright, or if you can at least assist in some way. Rain drips through the cracks in the planks of wood above you and climbing the stairs proves to be even more difficult than lifting yourself out of the bed, the boat being rocked harshly side to side and causing you to slip in the water.

When you reach the top of the stairs your breath is practically stolen from you from the pressure of the rain, harsh pellets of water almost bruising your skin. You grasp onto whatever you can, in this case a rope that’s secured to the side of the boat. You’re soaked almost instantly, eyes scanning to find anyone, but more so Levi so you can make sure he’s alright.

You spot each other at the same time, locking panicked eyes. He’s trying to help Erwin steer the wheel relative to the waves, or at least trying to keep them from completely breaking the rudder. Everyone else is trying to hold on to anything they can, all while keeping the ship afloat. You can barely hear the voices over the sound of crashing waves, the torrential downpour and the thunder that booms loudly, all of them being lost in the wind.

You keep hold of the rope, pulling yourself toward Levi as you sputter water out of your mouth and attempt to wipe the unruly hairs that plaster themselves to your face so you can see. You’re close enough to hear them now.

“Steer with the wind!” Erwin shouts at Levi. Both men are clenching their teeth, putting all their strength into turning the wheel. Waves crash over the boat, wiping some sailors and your own soldiers off their feet while you hang on to the edge.

“Aeron!” Levi shouts for you, his eyes finding your form again. He wants to run to you, to shove you under the deck again so you’re safe. “What are you doing?! Get back down!”

“I can help!” you insist, knowing there has to be something you can do. You can’t sit around and be useless.

“Don’t be a brat!” Levi shouts at you. He turns to Erwin, frustrated. “It’s useless!”

“We’ll get below deck!” Erwin resigns, reaching down to tie a rope to one of the handles on the wheel to keep it relatively stable while Levi does the same. “Grab Aeron!”

Levi grabs anything he can to keep him upright as he fights his way toward you, clothes plastered to his own skin and eyebrows furrowed in anger. You’re trying your best, clinging onto the rope that lines the edge to pull yourself forward, but your gaze snaps upwards when you hear a loud cracking sound above you. 

The center mast is breaking, the wood splintering and starting to tilt as it pulls the sails with it. The sailors are yelling at your soldiers to get down below to safety – everyone’s given up on the losing battle. 

Levi yells at you, but everything is drowned out when the mast comes crashing down, pulling rope and fabric with it. Everything is a blur as the boat tilts to one side, a massive wave crashing so harshly on top of the boat that all you hear is more wood splintering as you lose your grip on the rope and get tossed over the edge.

—

You’re comforted by the quiet that envelops you, serene darkness shadowing your eyelids and something that feels almost as soothing as a hug wrapping around your body. No more abrasive sounds of rain pelting the wood of the boat, no more shouting and arguments, no more politics.

No more.

Levi stands up unsteadily, swiping a hand over his face to rid the water from his features and pushes a hand through his hair. He looks around frantically, searching hopelessly for you to no avail. There’s only one option, to his absolute horror: the water. He doesn’t hesitate despite Erwin yelling at him. He won’t lose you too – he can’t.

His body breaks the surface of the water and he opens his eyes, spotting a massive sail that's roped around the mast that had broken before he sees you attached above it. You’re slowly being dragged down by the weight of it and he wills himself to not panic, to not waste time during the only opportunity he has to save you like he did with your brothers.

He pushes his limbs through the water as hard as possible, pushing himself forward fast enough to get to you before he runs out of air. You’re wrapped in rope when he gets close enough to see you in detail, your hair floating above you. He doesn’t take a single moment to see how peaceful you look – how tranquil – and instead immediately assesses that he can’t untangle you. He rips his dagger out of it’s sheath on his belt and frantically saws at the rope without cutting you.

Your body feels weightless in the void. The warm hug from before is gone, but you can see Auguste’s brown eyes staring back at you along with Theo’s green ones. They’re beautiful, and you’re so happy when you see them again, even if you don’t realize they’re vaguely floating in the dark waters in front of you.

But they look back at you with such sadness, and their mouths open as if to tell you something, but nothing audible comes out. You frown, upset until their images are gone and Levi is in front of you instead, his warm grey eyes looking at you with so much affection it hurts your heart. 

You love him. You had admitted it to yourself before.

But where is Levi? You’re starting to panic, no longer feeling the blissful serenity that was casted upon you. You need him.

His lungs burn by the time he cuts through the ropes, struggling to pull you completely free and kicking hard to propel the two of you upwards. He can feel the oxygen running out, his brain growing slightly foggy and his limbs growing slightly weaker, but he can’t give up – not when your life is at risk.

He gasps when he breaks the surface of the water, your body held in his arms, and he frantically reaches for a pallet of wood floating on the water. He grabs the edge and hauls your body on top, pulling your arms up so they’re draped over the wood and your face is above water.

“Come on you stubborn brat,” he cries. He can’t tell if the salt in his mouth is from the ocean or his tears. Levi tries so hard to gently slap you awake, pushing your hair out of your face so he can see your features clearly.

Levi?

Levi.

Levi.

“Levi,” you mumble, your voice barely audible.

He gasps in relief. “Oi, you stupid brat,” he laughs, hysterical and happy and relieved–

“Levi?”

“I’m here,” he says immediately, reaching a cold wet hand to caress your cheek. You’re okay. You’re alive.

You don’t say anything else, just a quiet mumble he can’t make out over the sound of rain pouring into the ocean around you. He has no idea what to do but simply float on the surface of the water and hope the boat will come into view once the storm clears up. 

But no matter what he has you, he’ll take care of you.

Levi wraps his arms around the wood, pushing his body up against your barely lucid one to keep you safe.

[tenaciousduckpoetry]

ii. Caught in a Web

Previous Chapter here

Warnings: angst, reader isn't a good person, gender neutral, alluding to reader being morally grey, potential love triangle

A/n: 42 Miles is in bold.

"I just need to get home-"

You rolled your eyes.

"My dad is going to die!"

"And?" Your voice was filled with venom. Miles was so desperate. You were beginning to enjoy the pleading, panicked look in his eyes when he finally realised that you could care less in the moment. You offered a small smile, yet it wasn't comforting. "It's not my problem if your fucking dad dies." Your words came out harsh. The mention of Miles' dad had you glancing towards the other Miles, your Miles. He was hard to read, but with his brows furrowed and lips turned down, head tilted up, you knew your comment affected him in one way or another. You attempted to change the subject away from his dad. "You still haven't told us why you're here, Miles."

There was another flash of panic. What would happen if he mentioned the multiverse? The fact that there were people after him, lots of people whom would probably mistake the other Miles for himself. "I already told you! Please, I'm just trying to get home!" He groaned out, growing frustrated and annoyed, "I was trying to get home, and I ended up in the wrong universe." He finally admitted.

You weren't surprised. You figured that much out already. From the moment you saw him, to the moment you punched him in the face. Why else would Miles have a doppleganger? You seemed to be lost in your thoughts for a moment when your Miles spoke up.

"You work for someone?" He rose a brow, glancing towards the spandex suit his carbon copy was wearing before looking back into his eyes.

"No- no. Yes? No. Maybe." He stumbled over his words. "Listen, a bunch of other people like me are going to come find me. So, if you don't let me go you both are going to get in the middle of it." He tried to reason.

It looked as if you weren't listening, a cloudy look in your eyes. You were studying Miles so intensely. It felt like you had known him your whole life, and while you had known him in his universe, you didn't here. The feeling was uncomfortable and unexpected, something that left you with a subtle sense of curiousity to learn more about this undiscovered version of your best friend.

"Is our- sorry, your dad.. y'know?"

You quickly looked up to Miles, seeing the hesitant look in his eyes before he nodded. "Yeah. Place has gone to shit ever since." Miles frowned. "Mamá has been picking up more shifts at the hospital too." He figured as much. Maybe Miles wasn't as bad as he originally thought?

All while chatting up a storm with the alternate version of himself and you, he was working on the ties that held him to the punching back. He had gotten them loose enough to tug now. All Miles wanted was to get out of the restricting ropes that were now burning his wrists.

Your eyes ran from his face down to his arms. You then turned to your friend. "We could untie him.." you whispered, "What's he going to do anyway? He doesn't have a phone or a watch.. he can't contact anyone. Maybe he can help?"

You watched as his eyes widened. You were right. He couldn't contact anyone, and even if he wanted to fight his right shoulder was pretty banged up from his chase with Miguel. He heard the sigh that slipped past his doppelgangers frown and the quiet curse that followed.

They're going to let me go! The thought left as quickly as it came.

"Fuck. Okay."

You smiled.

"We're not letting you go. You're going to help us first, then we'll talk about freedom."

You knew he would agree with you, one way or another at the least. You moved around to where Miles was bound to the ever swaying punching bag. "You try anything and I'll hunt you down for sport, yeah?" Your words sounded so sincere, so Miles just agreed. He didn't want that to happen. Your hands brushed against his, inspecting the rope burn before you began to tug the loosened chords free.

Miles hissed as he fell to the floor, body glitching in a horrid fashion. Flashes of green, blue and red protruded from his body as he clutched his stomach. His mind flashed back to the moment of his first mission in Alchemex with Peter.

'Your cells are deteriorating as we speak. That must be so painful.'

Your brows raised and you almost felt pitiful. "You really aren't from here are you?" It was rhetorical. Your arm looped under his. You were quite strong, stronger than he expected as you helped pull himself up from the floor. There was a sudden urge to help him but you weren't entirely sure why. You chalked it up to the fact that he looked like your friend.

"What was that?" Miles spoke up. He looked at you and you almost went to open your mouth and answer until Miles beat you to it. "My atoms are deteriorating.." He sounded out of breath. Out of instincts you brought him over to the couch, helping him sit. For someone who had threatened to kill him just minutes earlier, you were being quite caring now.

Now being on the couch, Miles was able to finally take in his surroundings. Those speakers.. the purple couch, the red punching bag. This was his tio's place. "He's alive.." he muttered under his breath, eyes shutting for a moment to hold back any unshed tears that threatened to spill.

You and Miles squinted at him. Miles went to speak before there was a sudden knock at the door.

"I got it." You spoke quietly, nodding towards Miles who gave a small nod back. You walks towards the door as quietly as possible. You looked through the peep hole and your eyes widened. You turned back to Miles, shaking your head quickly.

"I know someone's in there!" The voice bellowed. That wasn't uncle Aaron's voice, Miles wasn't sure what to think anymore.

You moved back to Miles, watching as the other Miles stood up. You pulled your mask back over your face, watching as the two boys followed in suit.

"You take Miles. I'll take care of this." The prowler spoke, voice changed slightly deeper now that the mask was on.

"No- no. I'm not leaving you here. Something could happen-" Your sadistic tone from before turned into one of concern. So you really did care for him.. Miles smiled slightly, lost in his own thoughts until a bang came from the door. He jumped slightly. Why were his spider senses not helping?

"I'm not taking no for an answer. You need to watch Miles, make sure he doesn't try leaving just yet." He huffed out.

You went to object again, only to stop yourself halfway. You nodded. "Okay.. Be safe. Meet at the spot when you're done." You hummed.

You then turned towards Miles, your look sour again. You had practically began to drag him to the window. Shoving him onto the fire escape. He was shocked by your strength once again, however wasn't surprised at how pushy you were.

"You ready to fly?"

[theoceanoasis]

Hot Rod slapping a Quintesson Prosecutors because he’s just so done with everything. The Quintesson Prosecutors then acts like a sad dog and follows Hot Rod around.

Everyone thinks that Hot Rod has gone crazy and Soundwave is impressed.

Thanks

He was arguing with Soundwave while the others watched. They were supposed to be looking for supplies but Soundwave was acting like he was the leader.

"Useless Autobot. I should be the one in charge."

"No way. I've been leading this team since the start."

"And you've been doing a bad job."

"How dare you? I've been doing a great job. I freed you after all."

"It was an accident. You did nothing."

"Should we stop them?"

Clobber looked between the two who continued to argue. Completely oblivious to the world around them.

"Nah this is entertaining."

Perceptor gave Dead End an unimpressed look.

"They're making too much noise. The Quintessons are going to realize we're here."

"Too late."

Whirl pointed with one of his claws.

"You were supposed to be on guard duty."

"I was."

He gestured towards the Quintesson who snarled. Having managed to sneak inside while Whirl was busy watching them argue.

"Look out!"

Perceptor tried to warn. Hot Rod who was frustrated with Soundwave and done with the situation in general. Turned around and slapped the Quintesson in the face causing them to rear back making a sound of pain and surprise.

"Shut up all of you! I can't hear myself think!"

Hot Rod stormed off and the Quintesson looked between all of them and Hot Rod. It ended up following after him and he stood up going to stop it from attacking Hot Rod. When Soundwave stopped him by trying to take over.

He managed to get away when he started glitching. Not even bothering to help him and it seemed the Decepticons didn't want to help either. Because they walked away going back to Maccadams.

"Should we?"

"Do whatever you want."

He turned away going to find Hot Rod and Whirl joined him. Soundwave can stay stuck in the loop for all he cares. Serves him right for being such a jerk.

He found Hot Rod sitting by himself with the Quintessons head in his lap, looking up at him as he pet the beast.

He stared in shock and tried to reach for him and get him away from the Quintesson.

"Hot Rod what are you doing?"

"Hmm. I just needed some time to myself."

"Get away from that thing. It's dangerous."

"He's not dangerous. He's actually kind of cute in a weird way."

Hot Rod pet the beast who leaned into his touch.

"Come on we need to get out of here."

"Where's everyone else?"

"Probably already at Maccadams. Except for Soundwave he's still frozen at the warehouse we'd been exploring."

"What? Why would you leave him there?"

He stood up and the beast huffed looking annoyed that he was moving around.

"We need to go get him, it's not safe."

"He was being a jerk."

"Leaving him is not the Autobot way."

He went back to the warehouse and found Soundwave sitting on the floor looking exhausted.

"Look who finally decided to show up."

He spit out. Not even glancing at him.

"I didn't know they left you behind."

"Why'd you come back?"

"They shouldn't have done that."

Soundwave finally looked up and was surprised to see a Quintesson behind him. He raised his weapon and he got between them.

"Don't shoot he's friendly."

"Friendly?"

Soundwave gave him a disbelieving look and he shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess I tamed it somehow and now it's following me around like a lost Cyberpuppy."

Soundwave looked like he wanted to be annoyed. Except he couldn't help but be impressed. Somehow he'd managed to tame one of those things. Which could help them defeat the enemy.

"You can keep your pet as long as it doesn't get in the way."

He stood up already walking away. Hot Rod grumbled behind him.

"I was going to keep him regardless of what you said."

Perceptor tried to protest but Hot Rod had made up his mind. Soundwave wanted his own and Whirl thought it was cool. Even though the Quintesson would try to attack him every time he tried to pet it.

Since he couldn't keep it at Maccadams it became a guard dog of sorts alerting them if anyone came near.

[allthegothihopgirls]

SPEAKKK transfem carl im listening

basically she's inside my head and gnawing away at small pieces of my cranium as we speak.

i'm assuming this was in response to my isttvg AU post, which was just something that weirdly resembled the t4t rarl AU i've rotated around in my brain for YEARSSSSSSS. i can talk about my original AU ig, although it ventures far from just transfem carl.

so the only real major tv canon change that happens for transfem carl to consciously exist, is that ron's never killed by michonne. in this AU ron has wanted to run away from alexandria forever, to get away from his bigot dad and prevent suffocating within the town's boundaries.

ron being transfem and KNOWING IT is super important here. even more so the fact that he cannot express it whatsoever because of his father's influence, although he wishes to do so.

the canon rivalry between carl and ron doesn't exist in the same way. the two bond over their love of comic books, particularly one series with outdoor explorers who visit all these cool international landmarks. although it acts as a form of escapism for both of them (who for obvious reasons, this comes across as HIGHLY idealistic to), ron takes it to the extreme and fantasizes constantly about not only escaping the walls that confine him, but living these same kinds of adventures outside of them.

the two often play pretend to cater to these impossible lives they wish to live, where ron notably always insists on portraying a woman. i think that is what drives carl to inevitably notice that there's something running deeper there, and sparks that mutual realisation that they've both got something a little funny going on.

to me, carl is never able to have that realisation in himself, without witnessing second-hand ron's experience with transness. mainly because carl's always wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, and any ideal future that isn't being rick just doesn't exist as a possibility to him.

i think the first conversation the two have about their mutual transness, the one where they can't find the right words to explain anything, and only very vaguely try and broach the topic without really understanding what they're asking, happens just weeks before pete dies.

so then when pete is killed by rick, ron isn't angry, he sees it as an escape. he'll beg carl to leave with him, who has heard nothing but brief mentions of ron's plans previously.

and carl doesn't just shut that shit down, he's angry. he lashes out at ron because he just seems to have this fantastic ideal where he can live out to the fullest and never have to repress a single thing ever again. and carl will never have that. he's angry that ron can even conjure up a reality where he escapes, because all carl knows how to do is act in the interest of his own survival.

anyways THAT is what builds the rivalry they experience in canon.

so ron doesn't end up angry at rick for killing his dad. ron gets increasingly frustrated with the idea that the only thing holding carl back from running away with him forever, is rick. which ultimately isn't true, it's the practicality of staying inside the walls that draws carl in.

however because ron and carl don't really communicate from then onwards, ron has no way of knowing this.

so the shootout still happens. ron stands there gun in hand, the last of his remaining family being mauled in front of him, and this time he really begs carl to leave with him.

something about ron not having anything holding him back anymore, and how he could cut carl's ties right then and there by just shooting rick. he's coming off as crazed as he suggests that carl wouldn't even have to feel bad for requesting rick's death in the circumstances of the night, as he probably would have nothing left for him by morning anyways.

ron doesn't take no for an answer and shoots regardless of carl's refusal, and by the time carl gains his consciousness back, ron's gone and unaccounted for.

this is where anything that ron had potentially drawn out of carl in their time being friends, goes right back to where it was before. although this time it's conscious repression, rather than blissful oblivion.

he'll think about it all the time, but fail to stray from the clear-cut path which is being the successor to rick's leadership.

there's one time years down the road that ron does show up again out of curiousity. he's put his qualms to rest, and comes around just to see how carl's doing. except he only lurks from the shadows.

it's clear that ron was successful in whatever specific goals he had past just escaping.

carl spends a lot of time convincing himself that it wasn't ron he saw between the trees out on that run.

and then when carl is dying, more trapped inside alexandria's walls than he's ever been, ron is the only thing he can think of.

and it's one of the last thoughts he has, that he's never been himself, and he might have been if he just left when ron asked him to.