#yes they know he can typically handle himself just fine but its not ABOUT that - its about THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING

[tadfool]

Thinkin about the idea of Astarion being protective over Wyll, especially when it comes to Mizora. Mizora shows up to talk to Wyll and the whole time Astarion is glaring at her like he's trying to burn a hole through her head with his eyes, all the while slowly drifting closer to Wyll. The first time it happens Wyll is a little bit bewildered, he doesn't hate it certainly but he's so used to being the protector, he's not used to being protected, he doesn't quite know what to do with himself. Eventually Astarion is slowly drifting his way into Wyll's personal space and Wyll doesn't pull away. After the first few times this happens he even starts to lean into it when Astarion starts inching into his personal space.

It's quite comforting, knowing he's got Astarion by his side, that he doesn't have to face this alone - he's not facing it alone - just the fact that Astarion there is a comfort to him. It's also quite validating, seeing Astarion so angry on his behalf. And maybe, perhaps, it's a little bit endearing. Certainly Astarion cuts a pretty intimidating figure, it's hard to deny that, though there's part of Wyll that can't help but be reminded of an angry stray cat, puffing up and growling at whoever got too close. More than once he has to stifle a grin at the mental image.

[evilfloralfoolery]

Lights, Leather, Action!- Part One

Cold-ridden, snzy stripper shit coming your way lol.

Grimm and Indigo are sent on an undercover assignment where neither knows the extent to other's role.

Imagine Indigo's surprise when he's dropped off at the local strip club and his lover is the fucking entertainment. Neither is allowed to break character. Neither can risk allowing their connection to each other to be known. But there's no rule that says they can't pretend to get to know each other as "strangers."

And Grimm loves a fucking challenge. And he's just come down with a the most horrible cold. However will he manage being a sexy AF "stripper" with something like that? -dramatic music intensifies-

Grimm's dance is done to this version of this song.

_______________________________________

“This is absurd.”  Indigo finishes buttoning his shirt and glances over his shoulder.  “Why would I not be informed of the details of this mission?”

“Because,” Grimm says. “You gotta pretend you’ve never seen me before in your whole goddamn life.”  

He gives his reflection the once over and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind one ear.  Typical black t-shirt.  Ripped jeans. Same old boots.  Yep, Indigo wouldn’t suspect shit. 

Well, except for the fact that he is currently nursing one hell of a cold.  Which Indigo is, in fact, all too well aware of.  The man had been watching him like a hawk all afternoon. 

When he wasn’t forcing Grimm to drink whatever gross-as-fuck tea he’d concocted. Not that any of it had done a damn bit of good. Grimm’s voice already had plenty of gravel, but this is a new level of rough depth.  Probably not a bad thing, considering just what he was about to do.  

The near-constant prickle in his sinuses surges to a sudden burn and he clamps a hand over his mouth to muffle a shuddering “Hhkg–UHhSSCHu! –uuhHKGISCCHHshu!”

Damn. Should've grabbed a tissue for that shit.  Maybe a towel. 

“Bless you,” Indigo says, his tone a mix of exasperation, concern, and plenty of “come fuck me now.”

Which would have to wait.  

He does, however, pass Grimm a generous handful of tissues.  Because this ain’t something a handkerchief handle.  Needs a “once and done” kinda thing. 

“Thanks, Indy.” Grimm gives himself a much-needed sinus clearing and tosses it into the trash without so much as looking. “Look, I gotta go.  Rex is gonna drive you out there.”  

Indigo says nothing.  Looks cross as hell.  Grimm smothers a laugh into his palm.  Yeah, no surprise there.

“I’d say ‘don’t worry about it,’ but you’re gonna.”  He grabs his partner by the front of his belt and jerks him into a tight embrace.  “I’ve been doing this shit my whole life. It’s gonna be fine.” 

“I know that,” Indigo mutter-hisses into his shirt.  “It is your health that concerns me.” 

More chuckling. “It’s just a cold, Indy.  I ain’t dyin’.” 

“Yes, yes.”  Indigo fists a handful of the black fabric, tilts his face up to get a better look at Grimm’s expression.  “Regardless of that fact, I would much rather have you in my care.” 

“Uh huh.” Grimm smirks.  “I just bet you would.” 

Before he can so much as protest, Indigo has tugged him into a kiss that has a fuckton of heat and zero concern for catching whatever Grimm might actually have. 

“Go on, then.” Indigo brushes Grimm’s hair away from his face.  “Do as you must.” 

Oh, he would, alright. 

Grimm pulls at the fabric of Indigo’s gray trousers with a decisive snap.  “Hope you don’t like these pants.” 

______________________________

“Rex, where in the name of the gods have you taken me?”

While Indigo is more than familiar with the city and all of its grandeur, this is just beyond its limits, somewhere on the outskirts verging on questionable territory.

“You’re about to find out.”  Grimm's associate shuts the SUV off and grabs his keys from the console.  “Come on. Just pretend we’re two gay-as-fuck bros out for a good time.”

Indigo huffs. “You cannot be serious.”

“I’m so totally serious.”

“Great gods.” 

While Indigo has never entered such an establishment, he is aware of its purpose the moment his foot touches the inordinately tacky carpet.

Surely not.

“Rex.” Indigo grabs his arm and presses himself against the other man’s body so as to be heard over the booming absurdity attempting to call itself “music.”  “You cannot be serious!” 

“You said that already.” Rex runs a hand through his black and blond hair and offers him a lopsided grin.  “Come on, Indigo.  I’ll buy you a drink.” He throws an arm around his shoulders and leads him through the crowd.  “A strong one.”

Well, he would need more than that to cope with the barrage of sensory nonsense currently assailing him. Strobing, multicolored lights. Headache-inducing bass thumping through his entire being. Carpet that looked as if it had been designed by an acid user.  Not to mention the hoards of screaming women.  And more than a few gentleman as well.  To use the term loosely.

And enough naked male flesh on display from both patrons and dancers alike. 

Despite being dressed in casual modern clothing, Indigo himself feels as if he is on display, given the lurid gazes of those in the crowd.

“Don’t sweat it,” Rex says. “They just think you’re pretty.” 

Indigo doesn’t inform the man of what he truly sees.  Amidst the sweltering throng of humans are Others.  At least one for every ten humans.  An inordinate number gathered here, indulging in the perversion of sexual excess and libations. 

Behind the rims of his glasses, his eyes flash brilliant blue but for a moment before he stills his instinctual overdrive. He is here merely as an observer. A “human” observer.

Is Grimm posing as some sort of bouncer?  It was not as if he hadn’t done that manner of work before. 

Rex hands him some manner of clear liquid in a shot glass which he does not bother to consume.  The level of alcohol it would take to so much as touch his consciousness would cause the demise of several grown men. 

It takes him a moment to realize that Rex has guided him to the front of one of several stages, which was absolutely not where he wishes to be under any circumstances.  

“What in the name of the gods are you doing?” He starts to stalk in the opposite direction, but Rex clasps his wrist with a firm, decisive grip.

“Nope. We’re standing right here.” 

Indigo shoots him a look that could freeze lava. “I think not.” 

The deejay’s voice booms over the sound system, announcing the end of one dancer’s routine and welcoming another to the stage.

“Alright all you ladies and gents out there, we’ve got a debut performer for you tonight and goddamn, it’s a good one. Make some noise for Remmington Wolf!” 

Indigo rolls his eyes. Honestly, where did these men find these ridiculous–

The raucous, sexual noise of guitars assaults his ears, but it is not the ungodly noise that stops him short.

No, that would be “Remmington Wolf” swaggering onto the stage, clad in leather and straps.  

Indigo’s jaw nearly drops before he catches his composure in the midst of crumbling.

Grimm. 

Grimm, strutting across the stage like he owns it.  Grimm, ripping that black tank top from beneath the straps that cross over his extremely naked and tattooed chest.  

And approximately one hundred screaming humans suddenly crowding the stage from every angle. 

Great gods.

Grimm drops to the floor, his hips grinding suggestively against a shadow of nothing, body undulating in ways that were never meant for public consumption. A shower of money and frenzied attempts at touch surround him.  The “leather” pants are suddenly gone, ripped from his body much like the shirt and discarded who knows where, leaving him standing in the shortest excuse for black spandex shorts Indigo has ever seen. 

And the boots.  Knee high and covered in straps and buckles that match the ones criss-crossing his chest.  

It is then that his gaze locks onto Indigo and he drops to his knees, crawling towards him some sort of lurid predator intent on the certain demise of his prey. 

Sweat beads Indigo’s brow at the sexual slink of Grimm’s approach and he stands frozen, unable to retreat or react. Grimm rises to his knees and reaches for him, hand tangling in his hair, the roll of his hips an obscene invitation. 

Screaming, hormonal madness in every direction. Grimm’s face so intensely close to his, mere increments from his lips, that lascivious smile curving his mouth. Energy crackles between them, unseen to those around them, but clearly visible to Indigo.  

Grimm is a fantasy of leather and sex, his body bending in ways that Indigo did not think him capable of. 

He pulls back and rises to his feet, his wandering touch focusing on one of the many women absolutely begging for his attention.  Just for a moment. 

Indigo doesn’t miss the hesitation in his stride, the way he suddenly ducks into the crook of his elbow, the unmistakable shudder of those broad shoulders. 

Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Heat suffuses his entire being as Grimm’s wandering gaze targets him and that cocky smile curves one side of his mouth.

The bastard.  The absolute great bastard!

Everything about his partner has been reduced to strutting, undulant carnal deviance. And all Indigo can do is stare at him like one of the slavering buffoons stuffing handfuls of money down those indecorous shorts.

The music tapers to silence and the audience emits a collective shriek of inane delight worthy of several pairs of earplugs. 

Somewhere above it all, the deejay is rambling whatever drivel comes after a performance, but Indigo’s attention is locked onto his partner who is currently at the opposite end of the runway-like stage, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, laughing with raucous enjoyment over something a bouncer has said. 

It takes every ounce of control Indigo can muster not to part the crowd with his raging appetency and drag Grimm into the nearest corner and—

“You good?”  Rex nudges his shoulder and Indigo blinks, snapping back to reality.

“Yes,” he lies stiffly. 

Rex laughs. “No?”

Indeed not. Rex truly has no idea.

_____

Grimm pops the cap off of his third bottle of water and takes a deep swig. That had been a lot of damn energy.  Funny, because he doesn’t feel even a little bit tired.  

He should, though. Even if his cold was just some garden variety bullshit, that didn’t excuse him from the relentless symptoms.  

One in particular. 

He snatches a handful of napkins from the bar and barely manages to clamp them over his mouth and nose.

“---UHSCCHHHu! Hhh’uh-KGSSSCCHHuh!” 

Damn. Barely any warning. Maybe if it wasn’t so fucking cold in this place. A double whammy for sure.

He takes a moment to struggle into some actual leather pants, which doesn’t do a goddamn thing, but it doesn’t matter.  He’s got better shit to do.  

Making his way through an ocean of admiration is only moderately weird, but he’s interested in one particular target and that’s the one currently giving Rex an earful.  Fuck, he can only imagine. The kid is laughing, which probably isn’t the smartest thing, but at least Indigo doesn’t look too pissed.  “Frustrated” is definitely the best word for that look.  He’s seen it pointed at him more times than a firing squad.

As if sensing his approach, Indigo ceases whatever he’s dishing out to Rex and turns to face him, expression neutral, posture proper but deceptively normal.

Grimm isn’t buying it. Not for a second. 

He adopts all of the cocky bullshit he can muster and puts a deliberate swagger in his stride. 

Rex excuses the hell out of himself before Grimm reaches the edge of the table where neither Indigo nor Rex had actually sat, leaving Indigo to fend for himself against whatever advances he might make.  That is, if he tried to do that shit. 

“Hey.” He tosses his dark hair over his shoulders with all kinds of ridiculous finesse.  “Saw you watching.  You like what you see?”

Indigo arches one perfect eyebrow with such an air of boredom, Grimm almost buys it.  

Almost. 

“Perhaps,” he says. 

Hmm, he’s good. 

Grimm steps closer, the fingers of one hand grazing the sleeve of Indigo’s shirt with a feather-light touch. “You got a name?” 

His partner does not so much as flinch. “I do, but you may call me ‘Ice’.” 

Grimm almost chokes on the laugh that bursts out of him before he can even do a damn thing to stop it. “Hmmn, okay, Ice.” He lowers his head just a touch, a gleam in his eye. “Guess you heard who I was since you couldn’t take your eyes off of me.”

“I believe I missed it,” Indigo “Ice” says.  Like he’s so goddamn disinterested, he can’t stand himself.  

Well, now. This shit is gonna be fun. 

“Remmington,” Grimm says. “You think something that long will fit in your mouth, Ice?”

Indigo lifts his chin. “I suppose it would depend on if you prefer ‘Remming’ or not.” 

Did he just . . .

Grimm leans against the column beside the table. “You’re a real smartass, aren’t ya.” 

“You are not the first to accuse me of such a thing.”

Maybe Grimm would have said something equally smartassy back, but standing under an AC vent has won over a spicy comeback.  And this is way better.

He brushes a knuckled finger against his nose with a cringe, makes a show of standing there for a moment, fights against it with more visuals than necessary. Indigo’s gaze is cool and steady, his posture now straight, but not rigid.

Grimm’s expression begins the descent from brash to desperate, his breath hitching with an uneven, almost ragged stammer. 

“Hhh-huuh!  Hhuuh. . .! UHCHSSHu! Hkgh’UHSSCCH’u! —Uhh-KGSSSSSH!”  

To hell with covering. He leans to one side and gives Indy the full fucking show, right down to the full body shiver.  Which he can’t help anyway, but fuck it.

“Goddamn,” he says with a shake of his head. “Fucking freezing in hee-hhhuh! Hh–NXGT–shhuh!” He leans against the support pillar with a thick, congested sniffle.  “Fuck. Excuse me.” He flashes Indigo a lascivious smile. “Might have a cold or some shit.” 

“Bless you,” Indigo says with such polite indifference that Grimm laughs like a stupid asshole. “Perhaps this would be of some use to you?”

The icy bastard waggles a folded handkerchief at him, holding it between two fingers, and Grimm smirks. “You won’t want it back when I’m done with it.” 

“I had no intention of wishing for its return,” Indigo says.

Grimm takes a step towards him, his fingers sliding to clasp the thing, but caressing the edges of Indigo’s pale hand in the process, taking his time to pull it free of the proffering grip.  

Just in time, too. Grimm buries his nose in the folds with a dramatic disaster of an encore, doing nothing to stop himself from unleashing hell from whatever the fuck his sinuses are doing right now.

“UHHKGSSCH!-UHSSCHu! UHH-KGISSCHHUu! Good goddamn.” 

Indigo’s expression softens just for a split second and Grimm nudges the tip of his dress shoe with one boot. 

“Bless you,” Indigo says, the frost in his tone warmed for the briefest instant, a context clue no one but Grimm could possibly decipher. 

“Thanks,” Grimm says. He barely manages to stop himself from saying “Indy.” He recovers with another, more subdued nose blow and pockets the handkerchief.  “Wanna buy me a drink?”

Indigo “Ice” chuckles with a thread of something wild.  “I suppose I might.” 

(TBC....)

[geesegooseblog]

The Flower Dance - Harvey x Farmer

Chapter 1 : A Thoughtful Gift

Tags: n/a

A/N: hello my loves! It’s been a long time between stories, but in typical me-fashion I have two assignments due and haven’t touched either of them, so have a Stardew Valley fluff fic! This is also my first foray into first person perspective, so any notes are much appreciated and, as always, if you would like a tag for the next chapter let me know!

CW: n/a

Word count: 1.8k

🌸🌸🌸

The quiet hum of the waiting room in Doctor Harvey's clinic was a sound I never thought I'd grow to like. I was often in the clinic for more severe injuries - a laceration from my sword or a broken bone from a dangerous encounter in the mines - but today it was sheer clumsiness that landed me here, holding a ziploc bag full of ice cubes against the back of my head. That's the last time I swing a pickaxe in the quarry without wearing a helmet.

"I'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose," Maru mused, chuckling softly to herself as she sorted the paperwork she was filing behind the front desk. "What is it, like, the third time this week you're in here? If you wanted to see Harvey, you could just come in to say 'hi'. No need to injure yourself."

"Very funny." I responded sarcastically, my eyes fixated on the wall opposite me. Even though she was my closest friend in this town, Maru sure knew how to get on my nerves. "If it wasn't for my mishaps, where would Harvey get all of his work from? Annual checkups? I think not."

"Ooh, someone's getting flustered over there..." Maru chuckled again as she glanced over at me, fixing her glasses flush against her face a push against the bridge. She quickly changed the subject. "You gonna go to the Flower Dance tonight?"

I shifted slightly in my seat at the mention of the Flower Dance, an indicator that I had, in fact, been thinking about it. I had missed the last Flower Dance the year prior by staying back at the farm - large events like that had never been my strong suit. As the months approached to tonight's dance, however, I grew more and more fond of the idea of attending. With the renovation of the community centre, I knew for a fact that Mayor Lewis had planned a big celebration for this year's dance, shifting it from its normal morning start time to an evening event. I cleared my throat once and shifted my glance to Maru.

"... Maybe." I muttered, trying to play off my nerves coolly. That reaction only garnered a smirk from Maru, who spoke again.

"I know Harvey's gonna be there... maybe you can stop playing around and ask him. I know he'd like that."

"Maru, will you please keep your voice down?" I begged in a sharp whisper, shifting in my seat to face her. "I don't want Harvey to hear this."

Maru shrugged her shoulders, her smirk still plastered on her face. "Fine. Keep kidding yourself. Did you at least get my text?"

“Yes, I got the text.” I answered back quickly, my voice raising slightly from a whisper. “It’s in my bag, but it won’t be much of a surprise if he overhears us!”

As if on cue, the double doors beside Maru's desk opened, and an all too familiar voice spoke calmly to his patient.

"Now, like I said, George: if you have any concerns you'd like me to take a look at, I'm more than welcome to make a house visit next time."

The doctor came out through the doors pushing George in his wheelchair, Evelyn close behind the two of them.

"You're a good man, Harvey," Evelyn said kindly as she took over the handles of George's wheelchair. "We'll see you tonight."

I shared a quick smile with Evelyn as she took George through the clinic's front doors- George grumbled something to himself as they disappeared out the doors together. My gaze shifted to rest on the doctor, and I felt my cheeks grow warm as I saw him turn his attention to me. The way he looked in his white coat was nothing short of handsome, and the way his ginger hair was neatly groomed made it more so. Harvey looked over at me and sighed, taking the makeshift ice pack against my head into account as he put his hands into his pockets.

"Another accident?" He asked softly, although a hint of amusement could be heard in his voice. I gave a sheepish smile in return, feeling a little embarrassed at him seeing me like this.

"Come on back, I'll take a look at you." He said with a polite smile as he turned on his heel and headed back through the double doors. I grabbed my backpack from my feet and followed quickly behind him, catching a glance at Maru as I passed by. I watched her mouth the words 'ask him' as she gestured towards the doors, which was met with me gesturing a hand under my neck for her to cut it out. I followed quickly behind the doctor, the double doors closing behind us with a soft 'click'.

We made our way into his office. I set my bag down at the base of the small bed in the room and took my usual place right in the middle of the bed, my legs hanging off the side as I looked over at Harvey.

"What happened this time?" Harvey asked calmly with his back turned to me, grabbing some equipment from a drawer in his desk to check my vitals.

I lowered the bag of ice from my head and placed it gingerly next to me on the bed. "I was down in the quarry today. I guess I wasn't paying attention. I swung back a little too hard... hit the back of my head with the side of the pickaxe."

I heard Harvey chuckle softly to himself as he shook his head, the sound of his laugh made my cheeks grow warm.

"What am I going to do with you?" He asked as he sat down in his swivel chair, wheeling it over to me as he took out a small torchlight from his breast pocket. He shone the light in my eyes and made me look over the room in different directions, asking typical questions to ensure I wasn't too badly hurt; my name, the date, where I was, that sort of thing. After a few seconds, he smiled as he turned off the torchlight.

"Well, it's not a concussion," he started, his voice methodical yet kind. "I've said it before and I'll say it again: You need to be careful when you're working."

"I'm fine, Harvey," I replied softly. "I guess I've been... distracted."

Harvey smiled warmly. "I can understand that. It happens to the best of us. If you need any help with it though, you're more than welcome to talk to me about it."

The comment made me smile up at him. "Really? You’d do that?"

"Sure! You can always book an appointment for a consultation regarding your mental health, it's what I'm here for."

"... ah."

I sighed softly to myself, remembering where we were. I felt a nervous feeling growing in the pit of my chest, and I remembered what Maru had said earlier. My window to ask about tonight was here, and I knew I’d be kicking myself if I didn’t at least try. As Harvey turned back to his desk to scribble down some notes, I spoke up softly as I grabbed my backpack.

"I, uhm," I began nervously. "I hope you don't mind, but... I've brought you something."

Harvey's ears perked up, and he swivelled his chair around to look back at me, a surprised expression on his face.

"Oh? What is it?"

I rummaged around in my backpack, my fingers taking a few seconds to finally grab at a small bottle. I got my words out quickly, my nerves getting the better of me as I pulled out a small bottle of wine.

"Well, a little birdie may have told me that you like your wine. I had some grapes left over last summer from the harvest and I didn't know what to do with the excess so I..."

I presented the bottle to Harvey with a nervous smile. It had a small sticker on it with my handwriting, reading 'For the best doctor in Stardew Valley'.

"... I made you some."

Harvey's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the small bottle of wine in my hand, his smile widening in both delight and astonishment as he reached out and carefully took the bottle. He was touched, not having expected me to make such an effort.

"I'm... this is...." He trailed off as his voice caught in his throat, clearly at a loss for words. After a moment, he cleared his throat and smiled warmly. "You've made my day..."

I chuckled sheepishly as my gaze drifted to the floor, shuffling in my seat at his compliment.

"Nah... it's the least I can do," I insisted. "I'm in here almost weekly, I'm probably taking your attention away from your other patients when I come in."

"Nonsense," Harvey insisted. "This is wonderful. Thank you."

There was a comfortable silence between the two of us, and it took me a moment to snap back into my thoughts as I cleared my throat.

"Right, well... I best be off. Those crops won't water themselves."

I made my way off the bed, pacing quickly to the door. At that moment I remembered what Maru had said again. If I didn't take my chances and ask Harvey about tonight, my window would be closing. I stopped in my tracks and turned around to face him, leaning against the doorway as I tried to be casual.

"So... I heard Mayor Lewis talking about the Flower Dance happening tonight? The one that's happening down near Marnie's Ranch? Are you, uhm... are you gonna go?"

Harvey nodded once, a small knowing smile crossing his lips as I mentioned the dance. 

"Yes, I do believe I will be attending. The dance has been a tradition here in town for years. Have you picked out a dance partner?"

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the doctor. "Dance partner?"

Harvey nodded once more. "It's customary for the bachelorettes of the town to have a partner in mind when attending the dance. There's a 'singles only' dance after dinner where you have to pick someone out to dance with. It's meant to symbolise true admiration to be chosen..." Harvey cleared his throat once before continuing on softly. "Not that... I've ever really participated in it."

"You're kidding," I said, leaning against the doorway with my arms folded. "You've never been asked to the dance?"

He shook his head once. "Never. But, y'know..."

His glance drifted to the bottle of wine in his hand, a soft smile growing on his lips as he looked back up at me.

"I still hold out hope."

The implications of his words were not lost on me, and I felt my cheeks start to blush as I smiled down at him.

"I'll... keep that in mind when choosing my partner. See you tonight, Harvey."

"See you then."

With that, I turned on my heels and headed quickly out of his office, flinging my backpack over my shoulder as I raced down the hallway. I had a newfound confidence for the night that couldn't be matched, and I made sure to high-five Maru on my way out the front door for the tidbit on the wine.

[amatchinwater]

Pairing: Stisaac

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale, Jackson Whittemore

Warnings: Canon typical violence, blood and injury, hurt Stiles, Stiles accepts the bite to save his life, near death experience, broken bone

Words: 2055

Prompt: BTHB square Setting a Broken Bone

Ao3 link Masterlist

--

Before Chris took Allison away to France after forming a truce with the Hale pack, she taught Stiles everything she could about archery. The once fragile human now fills out his clothes, got stronger, and damn good with a bow. So whenever the pack decides they want fresh venison for dinner, he joins them.

It was as close to running with wolves as Stiles could get as a human. Adding what Allison taught him with Derek teaching him how to track, Stiles became an amazing hunter. In the traditional sense. Just as good as the supernatural creatures he surrounds himself with. Minus the extra teeth, glowing eyes, and enhanced senses. 

Alli and Derek got him close enough while still clinging to his humanity. It’s not that Stiles doesn’t want the bite. You can blame his stubborn nature, but he’s determined to prove that he can survive just fine as is. And while he’s done a great job so far, Stiles has made it clear to Derek that should it come to life or death, give him the bite no questions asked. 

He’s stubborn, not stupid. 

Stiles even annoyed Deaton into showing him what it means to be a pack’s emissary. It was important to Stiles that Derek had someone he trusted to look out for the well being and safety of his pack. And that couldn’t be Deaton because deep down, whether Derek will admit it or not, he never fully forgave the man for not warning his mother about Kate. Stiles promised to be better. 

And so far, he has been. 

“Wanna tell me what you’re thinking about?” Isaac asks, catching Stiles staring at his feet while they walk through the preserve in the early evening.

One guess what the pack wanted for dinner tonight.

“Just wondering if the deer can hear my stomach grumbling and that’s why we haven’t seen any.” Stiles grins at the wolf, “if we don’t find one soon, I might be eating wolf tonight.”

It was supposed to be a joke. But the look Isaac gives him makes Stiles’ cheeks burn. “So you think I look tasty?” His words, no matter how cheesy, spread the heat down to Stiles’ chest. He trips over a root trying to respond about how he meant Jackson or Boyd. Isaac chuckles, “Not as smooth as you thought you were?” 

No, Isaac. Because you’ve been Stiles’ crush ever since he laid eyes on you. 

“Shut up,” Stiles scoffs, choosing his next step more carefully. He’s a hunter for god’s sake, Stiles has been trained out of his clumsiness. 

“Aww, did I hit a soft spot, Pretty Boy?” Isaac practically whispers in Stiles’ ear. 

When the fuck did he get that close? 

Chills run down Stiles’ spine from the wolf’s words and proximity. That was a lot to digest in thirty seconds. Much more than Stiles can handle while trying to hunt deer. Rather than give Isaac the satisfaction, Stiles focuses on the task at hand. 

Another few moments of silence and they spot a doe eating in front of a large tree. Stiles crouches behind a bush, Isaac beside him, and removes an arrow from his quiver. He takes a steady breath before knocking it. 

“Hit her in the heart, I’ll take care of the rest?” Isaac whispers so as not to spook her. 

Stiles nods. It’s their method and has always worked for them. They work. Derek knows it; it’s why they’re always paired together on hunts. You just won’t catch Stiles saying some embarrassing shit like that out loud. He’s impulsive, yes, but his brain cells still work. Isaac will never see them as anything more than pack and Stiles has to live with that. 

Stiles takes a breath in time with the draw of his bowstring. Holding it, he aims for the heart. He won’t miss, Allison made sure of that. On the exhale, Stiles looses the arrow. But before it can hit its mark, the doe takes off, a set of glowing blue eyes bound towards them instead. 

There’s no chance of a reaction, of trying to defend himself or see if Isaac can jump in between. The only option is to brace for impact. If blood wasn’t rushing through his ears, Stiles probably would have heard the snarl before being body slammed into the ground. It’s a quick blur, but the wolf resembles what Peter looked like when he could fully shift, just a little smaller. 

Isaac’s roar as the omega runs away barely makes it through Stiles’ ears. He doesn’t even get to register the pain in his side from the landing. Or the dirt he had to spit out. He’s already spun and crouched, bow at the ready for the wolf to make its next move. 

“Talk to me, Is,” Stiles’ eyes dart around the tree line the sun has mostly fallen behind. He can’t see shit. “Where is it?” 

“I don’t know,” Isaac hisses, golden eyes struggling to locate their attacker. “I can’t even smell it.”

That’s not good.

A twig snaps to his right, Stiles trains his bow immediately. Not realizing it’s a trap until Isaac yells, “Stiles!” that it was just a diversion. 

Stiles turns only halfway before the beast lunges from the shadows. Its teeth clamp around Stiles’ forearm, the bow falling to the darkening forest floor. At first, he doesn’t feel much other than the trail of blood sliding down his arm. Too much shock, adrenaline, or both coursing through his veins. Then the wolf thrashes. Flinging Stiles’ around by his limb like a dog with a chew toy. 

Skin shreds and something definitely cracks and Stiles feels it then, letting out a blood curdling scream. White hot fire shooting up his arms, causing a ringing in his ear. It hurts to fucking bad, but he can’t get free. 

“Derek!” Isaac howls. His claws sink into the wolf’s sides while Stiles tries to get his arm free without doing more damage. 

He’s already lost feeling in his fingers. 

Using the last shreds of strength he can muster, Stiles drives his free elbow down on the wolf’s head repeatedly until it finally lets go. He grabs his bloody arm, holding it to his chest, stumbling to the ground. 

Stiles can feel the bone sticking out of his skin. If he looks, he’ll pass out. Adrenaline sure is something, he’s in pain that’s for sure, but at least he stopped screaming. The blood loss is already making his vision swim, he needs to stay conscious. Not that it would really matter if he ends up dying. Seeing death coming and being powerless to stop it would be almost as insulting as watching that thing kill Isaac. 

The sun is well behind the trees now, all he can make out are two blurry shapes bouncing around. Stiles is fucking cold. He should really assess the damage. See if he can fix it while Isaac fights. But that just seems too hard and the grass is comfortable. It’d be totally okay if he closed his eyes right now. 

“It’s okay, Stiles,” Isaas says, sounding so far away, but the dull drag of pain being taken washes over him with the wolf’s words. It’s almost like he’s speaking underwater. He half feels Isaac lift his head into his lap. But those golden eyes, those are in sharp focus. “It’s gone, okay? You’re going to be just fine. But you have to keep your eyes open. Can you do that for me, Pretty Boy? Huh? Let me see those eyes.”

“What happened?” What sounds like Jackson’s frantic voice asks.

Stiles can’t be sure. He’s well past loopy, looking up at Isaac, slurring, “why you ‘lways call m’ pretty boy?” 

Someone kneels beside him, lifting his shredded arm.

Isaac chokes on his laugh, “because you are my pretty boy, Stiles.”

“Because he loves you, moron.”

Yeah. Definitely Jackson. 

Stiles makes a noise that was supposed to be a chuckle, but it just comes out more like an amused grunt. “I love you too, Isaac,” Stiles grins, full and dopey.

“Isaac,” Derek snaps with no heat. Purely to get his attention rather than scold. “I need you to hold him still. I have to reset the bone. The bite will save his life, but it won’t fix that.”

“But it cured Eri-”

“It will mend it together, yes.” Derek bites off a growl, “but it won’t put the bone back in his body. 

Why does Derek sound so angry? Stiles is over here on cloud nine. He can’t feel a thing, which in hindsight should be a bad thing. But Isaac has feelings for him. That’s all he cares about. Although Stiles admittedly is very tired. If only he could rest his eyes, just for a moment. Then he could get his bearings and work shit out. Just a few seconds, it’ll be okay, really.

“Shit,” Derek curses, “he’s slipping. Isaac, hold him.”

He only needs a moment, Derek, it’s fine.

Crack.

It’s startlingly silent for all of half a second before Stiles screams. Loud, long, and high. That hurt just as much as the actual breaking of his arm. He wails, trying to lurch into a sitting position, but Isaac’s hold is true. Both he and Jackson are quick to take his pain. Stiles’ skin is clammy. He’s hot and cold all at the same time. Wide awake from the shock of it all and ready to pass out. 

And when Derek’s teeth sink into his flesh, he does.

—

Stiles wakes with a start the next morning in Isaac’s room. What the hell is he doing in the wolf’s room? 

“He’s awake,” Derek says. 

But when Stiles looks around the room, the Alpha is nowhere to be seen. The only person is Isaac sleeping soundly in a chair beside his bed. So then how was he able to hear Derek? What did Stiles miss?

“Isaac?” He says, the wolf grunting softly in response. “Isaac,” Stiles repeats, more firmly.

The Beta jolts awake, inhaling sharply before his blue eyes land on Stiles. “You’re awake,” Isaac beams, reaching over to hold his hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine?” Stiles says, confused as to why he wouldn’t be. He can’t really remember much from the night before other than him and the wolf walking through the preserve together for dinner. “Why am I in your bed?”

“You-” Isaac shakes his head, curls flopping over his eyes, “you don’t remember?” Stiles shakes his head no. “We were attacked last night. You got hurt, you were-” the wolf takes a shaky breath, “you were dying. Derek saved our life.”

Memories flash in the back of Stiles’ mind. The rogue werewolf, the way he screamed when it bit his arm. All of the blood he lost. Derek snapping his bone back in place. The bite. And Isaac. Admitting that he loves him through Jackson’s snark. He’s a werewolf now. 

“You love me.” It comes out as more of an accusation than Stiles intended. 

Isaac ducks his head for a second, hiding the smile curling the corner of his mouth, “I do. Have for a long time, Pretty Boy. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you,” the other wolf whines in the back of his throat.

Not even remotely wanting to hear an apology or that whine again, Stiles uses his newfound werewolf strength and drags the Beta into bed with him. “That thing came out of nowhere, Is,” the wolf says, Isaac curling around his body. “I don’t expect you to be sorry for that. Not with how fast it moved. Besides,” Stiles adjusts himself so he can hold the other wolf, “you did your best and stuck by me the whole time. I have nothing to be mad about just as much as you have nothing to be sorry for.” 

“You still got hurt,” Isaac retorts, squeezing tighter. “And turned into a werewolf because of it.”

“Meh, it was bound to happen eventually,” Stiles reasons. “All I care about is that we’re both safe now. And that I love you too.” 

Isaac looks up at him with a soft smile, “so that wasn’t just the blood loss talking?”

“You tell me,” Stiles grins, leaning down to seal their mouths together, adoring the way that Isaac melts into the kiss. 

It definitely wasn’t the blood loss.

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ Version 1 of about 16 trillion WIPS I have of Ed and Izzy finally facing each other again. Did I write 1500wd and technically not use the prompt phrase? Yes I did, but in my defense I'm haunted by It's not your fault you're broken, you were just trying to do your job.

For @fictober-event’s Fictober 2023 prompt: “It's not your fault." Spoilers up to Ep 6, in which it's theoretically based.

Masterpost of my Fictober OFMD fics

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death Characters/Relationships: Ed Teach, Izzy Hands. Tags: Canon Typical Violence, References to Suicidal Ideation and associated mutually-destructive stuff that went down in the early eps. Angst with a Hopeful Ending and hopefully healing vibes.

Try

Ed recognises the voice before he turns the corner. It’s so familiar and beautiful and missed, his heart clenches. Because Izzy doesn’t sing. Not the Izzy he knows. Not anymore. And yet.

His feet carry him forward like they haven’t caught on that this is a stupid idea.

The bell around his neck announces him and he can hardly stand to hear the song strangle itself in Izzy’s throat. If there was a dance in his step it’s gone now. Izzy stops and stares at him for a long, miserable, terrifying moment.

“Edward,” he croaks.

In the silence, one can hear the other shoe drop.

“Izzy. I think we need to talk.”

-

Stede has the good sense, and the sense of drama, to usher the rest of the crew below deck. The abandoned party makes for a fittingly morbid setting; its rainbow lanterns bobbing in the breeze, beautiful food and rich aromas doing little to drown out the rotting wound they’re about to rip open. Neither of them speak for a long time. There’s too much to say.

Eventually, Izzy steps down off the little dias they’ve been calling a stage. He ignores Ed as much as possible, and sets about cleaning up instead. He marches to the nearest table and begins scraping all the food scraps onto one plate. Now that they’ve gone and ruined the mood, he might as well. But he feels Ed’s eyes on him, knows that stupid bell is swaying in the breeze a micron away from tinkling as he only moves just enough to watch Izzy. The heat pricks the back of his neck until he can’t stand it anymore.

“You’re the one who wants to talk, Edward. I’m fine.”

“Sure. You look fine.”

“I was, ‘til you got here.”

It hurts, but Ed swallows. He did walk right into that one. But it’s not the uncharacteristically camp make-up or the… golden… unicorn leg apparently? … that’s got Ed worried. It’s the tension in his shoulders, his gaunt face. The way that he carries himself around Ed - even though he’s well out of arms’ reach - with an air of hesitation, like he’s terrified he’ll be suckerpunched at any given moment and is trying desperately not to show it.

I wasn’t laughing, it reminds him. I was screaming.

He remembers the sound of the bullet too. He remembers thinking Izzy was dead and gone. He’d hardly felt a thing at the time, but looking back he knew it would destroy him. It should destroy him. That’s what it should feel like, to have somebody so close to you for so long and in so many ways that losing them feels like - 

Well, like losing a limb. Isn’t that how the saying goes?

But his traitorous fucking tongue refuses to form fucking words, at least not ones that mean anything, so all he can do is dare step a little closer. He reaches out his arm - slowly, hesitantly, - and he watches Izzy equally slowly close a fist around the handle of one of the butter knives he’s packing away. So he stops. Izzy’s fingers uncurl, but Ed’s pretty sure he’d rather have been stabbed. It hurts, everything hurts.

“It’s getting late,” Izzy says at last. “Think I’ll call it a night, actually.”

“Izzy. Please.” The words barely make it past the lump in his throat. If they don’t push through it now, they might never, and that’s just- well, that’s just not an option.

“Are you going to order me to stay?”

“No. I’m not your Captain anymore.”

Ed wishes he could be offended at the implication that he’d ever use his position in such a way, but he definitely would. He definitely has. And maybe, just maybe, he’s finally come close enough to admitting that for one of the worst people on God’s Green Earth at apologies, because Izzy finally stops doing busywork and looks at him. Really looks at him, like he’s trying to figure out the answer to his own question. What am I, to you?

“Still on probation, then?” he asks instead.

“Oh. Yeah.” Ed flicks the bell at his neck. “Crew says the vote has to be unanimous. So.”

“So you need me to tick the last box on your little form.”

“Oh fuck off, you brought it up, not me.” Ed bites his tongue. All this is going to do is get them riled up until they strangle each other. He tries to channel his crash course in healthy emotional expression and drag himself back on track. He takes a deep breath. “What I mean is. You’ve got a lot of them going to bat for you, Iz. They really care about how you feel about- about all this. You should be proud. I know I am.”

Izzy blinks. “What?”

Ed plays back what he just said. Is he finally making the words go?

“I am… proud of you,” he repeats. Tears spring to his eyes and he feels a bit sick and overwhelmed but there it is, he said it. “And grateful. I really am. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d really- I mean if you hadn’t-” 

He swallows. And maybe it’s because he’s still trying to spare Ed or maybe it’s because Izzy is allergic to the full spectrum of human emotion or maybe it’s because the memory is swirling around them like the storm did and they can both taste the salt water in the air but Izzy cuts him off.

“I was just doing my job.”

“Your boss fucking sucks then.”

He gets a tearful snort out of Izzy for that one. 

“Yeah, well. Pretty sure I started it.”

And maybe it’s good they’ve been making a point of avoiding each other since they got back on board the Revenge. Maybe they’re… ready for something. (Please. Please let them be ready.)

Ed waits with bated breath as Izzy looks away, touches his finger to his eyes in case he’s been crying, and deliberates. Ed watches, wishing, pleading, contemplating falling to the deck and fucking praying that a whip crack of vicious vengeance isn’t going to come for him. Once upon a time - hell, even this morning - he would have offered the man his pistol to shoot him back. It’s the pirate way of doing things, an eye for an eye, and maybe it’s not the healthiest or whatever but he’ll take it if it means making things square with Izzy. He's already got a bad knee, what’s a little more metal crunching around in there?

The silence lasts so long it itches under his skin. It burns the tip of his tongue and he’s on the verge of opening his mouth to suggest that the man fucking shoots him (again) after all, when Izzy finally speaks.

“Well,” he announces. “If we’re doing this, I’m going to need a drink.”

Speaking of knees, they almost give way beneath him.

“Amen to that.”

-

There’s a lot to untangle; so much that if they had the time-bending powers of the gravy basket they might still have not got through it all. But it’s progress, and the two of them end up lying close on the deck with their hair and limbs tossed every which way and a red glow to their cheeks that betrays how much they’ve imbibed. They’ve cried. They’ve laughed, frankly a surprising amount. They’ve almost called it quits and stormed out a half a dozen times each. Yet they’ve both stayed, and they’ve both let those walls down further than they have in years. The wound they’ve been letting fester isn’t healed. It’s a long way from that. But it’s been cleaned and wrapped in new bandages and as the morning light starts to make its way across their faces, there’s a gentleness to the ache in their chests.

Ed sighs.

“Be honest, Iz,” he prompts. “Do you think there’s a version of us where we don’t wind up killing each other?”

Izzy frowns, struggling to turn his fuzzy mind to the subject without getting bogged down again in I had a dream where you killed me and Edward better watch his fucking step and the Spanish and the English and the way their downward spirals have been happening harder and faster lately. Rising sun be damned, it’s hard to have hope in the face of that.

“I don’t know,” he confesses.

Ed swallows. It’s hard to take. But he said to be honest, and they’re being honest in a new way now. In a new old way that reminds him of the way things were before, somehow. It’s like a light at the end of the tunnel, shining into the dark sea. Like the morning breaking over them. The sun is warm, and it reminds him of the things that are worth holding onto.

“Do you think-” he asks, “d’you think we could try?”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“Like Izzy Hands stone-cold-sober letting someone put glitter on his face?”

With a cheeky, if hesitant, hopeful smile, Ed glances over at Izzy the best he can at this angle. Izzy, best he can too, angles his chin to meet Ed’s eyes, and smiles back.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Like that.”

[kariachi]

Some fic! Inspired by a conversation nix and I had last night. Accidental baby swap, a fun trope even before you add interspecies drama into it.

~~

“So,” Jahra said as they walked into the crafthouse, passing by the pot and bowl makers with polite chirps before settling next to their spouse, the pair exchanging nudges under their jaws, “according to the necromancers Lingi is far too dry, we need to get them moist.”

“Of course they are,” Kyrii sighed, moving a few kittens to off Jahra onto themself. “We should’ve guessed. It’s already dry around here.”

“Swear I’ve heard the Osmosians complain about it,” Tyrye called from the other side of the room.

“Good food, nice enough people,” Ruafi added, “but it’s impossible to work in this weather.” The rest of the crafters trilled their agreement, as if they weren’t managing just fine.

“There’s Lenopan on the planet, they know about humidity,” Kyrii said. “The Tennysons have a few in their line, we could ask Pierce or the Councilmember go to them for information?”

“Sounds good to me, I certainly don’t know how to handle this myself,” Jahra said, scratching gently at the little naga wrapped around their tail, a thick flake of skin falling away under their nail. “Kuey suggested getting them a large dish of water, just until we can get something else worked out.” Immediately the crafthouse burst into sound, every adult automatically going into the typical ‘of course my work is the best, no, don’t even look at theirs, awful stuff, what did you just say about my work’ spiel. Jahra snickered at the familiar behavior as Kyrii shouted against the tide.

“I can make my own kittens’ pottery, thank you-!”

~~~~

“We may have solved the problem!” Kamini started as her preferred mate barged in, automatically drawing herself up as large as possible. Like a switch flipping he backed away, making himself small and flashing his belly. He stayed like this until she had settled back into a neutral position, tail relaxing from where it had coiled around her latest clutch. “I spoke to Sandip, like I said.”

“And what did he have to say,” she asked, accepting the furry little bundle he passed her way and replacing her with the rest of the clutch, where she was quickly half-absorbed into the mass of scales.

“He showed me how to tell a creature’s diet by its teeth,” Ankit said, cautiously coming to join her. “Judging by them, Mridula is probably eating too much meat? We need to get more fruit and green things in her.” With a relieved sigh, Kamini stroked a finger down the hatchling’s little head, gut tightening at fur far duller and rougher than it had been when she’d first found them.

“Is that what it is, tiny one,” she crooned softly, “you just need more plants?” There was no answer, just big green-gold eyes blinking up at her from the gold and amber of her clutchmates. Still, the direction was enough to bring peace to her heart.

“Dear one?” Ankit relaxed truly now, with her calm and happy and unlikely to eat him. “Do you want me to go to the market for you?”

“Yes,” she said, leaning a bit of her weight against him as pleased acknowledgement and thanks. “Grab as much of everything you can reasonably afford. Surely from there we can find out what she needs.”

[thefanficmonster]

Are, Were

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Arguments, Friendship fallout, Swearing 

Genre: Friends-to-Enemies-to-Friends-to-Lovers, Minor Angst and Romance elements, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Pic)

Summary: The ups and downs of Y/N and Corpse’s friendship displayed through four key chapters of their lives.

Requested by z Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request I’m so sorry I haven’t bee able to get around to it sooner but here it finally is and I hope you come across it even after all this time and if so I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

We are friends

“What if I make an ass out of myself?!“

“You won’t! God, Y/N, I promise you everything will be just fine. Dave and Felix are gonna love you.“

When you heard that Corpse’s friends were coming to California for some convention, you were initially excited mostly because that would mean having a chance of running into them at said con which you’d be attending professionally, as a part of a gaming panel especially for developers.

However. However, when that chance, small unlikely chance, was to be made into an arrangement by your best friend Corpse, you started freaking out. See, you can handle a brief interaction consisting of minor chit-chat exchange and a picture taken. What you can’t deal with is having to spend some extended time with them in the same room.

For starters, Felix has been your idol since you can remember the roots of your internet presence. He’s the one who motivated you into gaming and became your role model. That being said, your brain has convinced you that being around this human for longer than two minutes would result in you embarrassing yourself one way or another and you most certainly do NOT want that. Of course, Corpse has tried to call this theory for its flaws countless times but has had no success.

Secondly, there’s Dave who, apart from being yet another role model and inspiration for you, is also a great crush of yours. Hell, just the thought of being in this guy’s vicinity scares the bejesus out of you for the same reason as before but amplified. You can picture your red face and ears, your constantly fidgety hands and bouncing leg and overall awkward composure and posture as a side-effect of your fluster.

In short, you expect exactly what you said - to inadvertently make an ass out of yourself.

For Corpse, who’s been friends with those two for quite some time now, it’s a hard concept to grasp but he can bring himself around to understanding it. Does he still try to dissuade you? Yes. Will it work? You’re set on it not working, but if he does you’ll be damned.

*    *    *    *    *

He failed, to your delight, he did. He’s just now accepted defeat and man was it the most relieving thing to hear.

However, little did you know, he wasn’t done trying. In fact, you catch him red-handed in the act of scheming as you’re packing for the trip to the convention tomorrow.

“Yeah, their name is Y/N, Y/N L/N. They're a developer, you can catch them at the ‘World Building-Breaking Bounds’ panel. Suggest it to Felix, I’m pretty sure he’d be interested in meeting them.“ You overhear this little conversation on your way from the bedroom to the bathroom while your visitor’s sitting in the living room, sprawled out on the couch like the place is his. Although he’s trying to watch his tone, he’s not doing a particularly good job with it. “I promise you their work is of high quality.” A small pause follows which you can barely stand as you grow antsy in the hallway, “Ok, ok, I might be a bit biased because we’re friends, but they really are a gem. As a person and as a developer.”

Typically, you wouldn’t be the happiest with this endeavor. Of course, you appreciate the gesture and know that he’s doing it with the best intention and you happiness in mind, but you’d be a little prissy about it, for certain. You’ve climbed the ladder all on your own all your life and have grown distasteful of help, especially when you’re given it without any notification or question beforehand.

However, this time, you can’t find it in you to be the least bit upset. In fact, you catch yourself smiling as you force your feet to continue carrying you in the direction of the bathroom - a trip you’ve already forgotten the purpose of. Although, when you think about it, it’s probably got something to do with that last line.

It’s most definitely got something to do with that last line.

We were friends

It’s a tale as old as time - a fallout built on a mountain of pettiness with no real sustenance. One can think they’ve gathered everything about the story just by listening to one of the parties despite the other telling a similar tale with little knick-knacks that pain the first person just as badly.

In each other’s eyes, they’re probably exactly that - horrible people and even worse friends.

But, when you start comparing the two, that is if you ever get to hear both sides, of course, you’d know that it’s a simple case of miscommunication that has accumulated to a spontaneous combustion that could’ve very easily been avoided by just talking about the problems when they arose instead of shoveling them atop the already high-risen pile of minor not-completely-resolved conflicts.

That’s what’s brought you and Corpse here - a forever of miscommunication, or lack of communication entirely, and just an hour of arguing. And just like that, the friendship seems to have collapsed.

Allow me to show the readers how it comes off from different perspectives - aka what your friends heard and what Corpse’s friends - aka Dave and Felix - heard regarding the matter.

He’s so fucking full of himself! He thinks he’s allll that! Might as well have looked me in the eyes and called me incapable!

They are such an infuriating know-it-all! Condescending, sarcastic, mean, two-faced...

He had no right to bring my career into all that mess! Actually, no, I’m glad he did because what the hell did he think was gonna happen?! Hello?! I’m a game developer, he’s a streamer. He’d be nothing without my industry!

They think they’re so high-and-mighty, that they somehow ‘made’ me! I owe my following to several people, I’ll be the first to admit, but Y/N’s not one of them!

And if he thinks he has any moral high-ground when it comes to life decisions the he doesn’t

They don’t know

A

Damn

Thing

Yeah, neither of you know a damn thing, as it would seem.

We are friends

“My car’s getting fixed so be on the lookout for a silver Nissan instead.“ Corpse says over the phone as he paces his apartment, one hand holding the phone, the other brandishing a cloth against the specs of dust on the kitchen counter and cupboards.

“You got a rental specifically for us? You know we could’ve taken a taxi instead?“ Dave replies from the other line. Him and Felix have just landed and are still navigating airport customs due to some passport issue and a luggage mix-up, giving Corpse enough time to finish cleaning up the previously dingy and messy living space before he drives to pick them up.

“Um...no....“ Throwing the cloth in the trash, Corpse secures the phone between his shoulder and ear as he busies his hands with putting on his shoes in the foyer, “I borrowed it from a friend...“

“Corpse, if you bring it back with a single scratch I’ll fucking MURDER you!“ From the living room echoes a voice that inevitably gets picked up by the phone. And is also inevitably recognized by Dave, a fact Corpse is well aware of before the Brit even utters a single word, cringing slightly at the fact that he’ll have plenty to explain now that the tea’s been spilt.

“Was that Y/N?!“ The older man catches on in an instant as expected, prompting Corpse to think fast.

“Idon’tknowbye!“ And just like that he hangs up the call.

“Did you hear me!?“ your voice remerges, this time quieter and closer because you’ve ventured down the hall, “If you bring back Harlow with a single scrape...“

“You’ll bury me alive with cactuses.“ He cuts you off, finally managing to slip his foot in the forsaken shoe, “Don’t worry, I’d never dare bring harm to a car, not one I helped name, at least. Harlow the Nissan will be just fine in my company!” With a fleeting wink, he’s out the door, your car keys in hand.

“Thank you for the cactus idea, Jigsaw!“ With that screamed down the stairwell, you make a point to close the door quietly as if that will cancel out the yell all the neighbors undoubtedly heard through the thin walls.

*    *    *    *    *

“You best get to talking.“ Felix, who’s got stuck in the backseat due to Dave calling shotgun first, sticks his head between the two front seats as the vehicle comes to a slow halt at a red light.

“There’s nothing more to tell! They apologized, I apologized, that’s that. Now we’re partially roommating while their apartment’s getting sprayed for roaches. I don’t understand what more do you want.“ Corpse complains, feeling more trapped than ever with these two childishly curious and annoyingly persistent grown-ass men in a car that is factually more spacious than his own.

If only it were a Tesla and he could just ditch them, knowing they’d still get to the apartment safely.

“We want the truth and all the details because, love, you aren’t shitting anyone.“ Dave interferes, obviously siding with Felix. “If you and Y/N have anything in common is how stubborn you both are sometimes.”

“Most of the time.“ Felix corrects him.

“Most of the time.“ Dave repeats for emphasis, forcing Corpse to drop his head against the steering wheel.

“We’re friends again, that’s all that matters, isn’t it? Isn’t it enough for you?“ Corpse understands the curiosity and the involvement these two want to have. After meeting you at that convention about a year ago at this point, the three of you kindled a close friendship, binding all four in the same circle which means that when problems arose between you and Corpse, Dave and Felix immediately tried to help mend the situation any way they could, not only on your and Corpse’s behalf, but so they wouldn’t you as a friend either. They felt you growing distant during the few months following the fallout up until this point that they’ve finally been caught up on the fact that the bridges have been rebuilt.

“It’s more than enough, it’s lovely, in fact, but...“ Felix trails off, clearly having not thought this through before he had started talking.

But luckily Dave is there to pick up where he left off, “You know us Brits like our tea. So start spilling.”

In that very moment, the light changes to green, giving the driver of Harlow the Nissan an excuse not to reply and step on the gas. An activity that’s busied him enough to not catch the look his two friends exchange as to say ‘you’re thinking what I’m thinking?’

And man were they thinking correctly...

We were friends

“Guys you’re slowly losing me here, this is the most exercise I’ve had in years“ Jack complains from his spot walking between Corpse and Felix.

He’s been in the warmth of the San Francisco sun less than twenty-four hours and is already getting his ass kicked by it. Corpse has taken him, Felix and Dave on a tour through the more private places in the city where they could all easily go by incognito and man is he not having it. Of course, he’s exaggerating the exercising part, the exhaustion so is so prominent because of his massive jet-lag but he refused to go to sleep when he arrived this morning so this is what he gets in return.

“Oh no, no you don’t. You better pull those energy levels back up to meet Y/N. They’re probably the only person capable of matching your energy levels.“ Felix warns, poking the Irishman in the side, hitting a ticklish spot that immediately has him jolting upright from his slumped walking posture.

“Yeah, my USUAL energy levels, not when I’m running on an empty tank.“ Jack argues, swatting away the threatening hands of his friend. “Who is this Y/N person anyway? I never completely grasped what you were talking about. I’m so out of it, I haven’t been to string anything together.“

Dave huffs, “Where’s that Top of the Mornin coffee when you need it?” This collectively provokes a laugh out of all four of them. He follows that up with an actual answer to the asked question: “They’re our friend.”

“Actually, they are Corpse’s friend. Dave and I were just adopted into the dynamic. You’ll see, they’re a wonderful person.“ Felix adds.

Therefore prompting Corpse to throw his two cents into the ring.

“They’re not my friend.“

The simultaneous halt of two pairs of feat causes a scraping sound to echo in the humid air, soles of four shoes scraping against the asphalt.

“What?!“ Seems the two weren’t gonna cut the synchronization there, now speaking in unison as well.

“You heard me.“ For the smugness with which the sentence was said, it’s surprising that both men are still in shock while Jack is just confused. And sleepy. Not a good combination to be dealing with their crap.

“Yeah we heard you, that’s why we’re fucking dumbfounded!“ Dave points out, his voice sharp.

“Hey guys, can we at least sit down to have this conversation?“ Jack attempts but there’s no answer to his plea. There’s no room for it amidst the tension that’s risen between the two downright furious men and their smirking friend.

“So?“ Corpse has the audacity to mutter

“So?!“ The two repeat like a set of angry parrots, creating a sight Jack’s brain is loopy enough to find utterly comical to the point of breaking out in small fits of laughter.

“So what? What’s so wrong with a friend becoming something more?“

Now that shushes them up very quickly. Although the confusion has deepened, at least the anger has subsided.

And Jack’s still laughing in the background, now leaning against a lamp post. No, hugging a lamp post.

“What?“ “What’s that supposed to mean?“ The questions, while again spoken simultaneously, at least don’t match fully. But the Irishman still cracks up harder.

“You heard me.“ The cocky little shit smirks AGAIN.

“Corpse, if you say that one more fucking time, I swear to-“

Dave’s threat is cut off when the man in question raises his hands up in surrender, “Fine! Y/N is no longer my friend because they’re now my romantic partner, ok?! Significant other or lover, if you will. There! Can we all calm down now, please?”

And everyone has indeed calmed down, at least for a second. A second filled with sizzling silence, waiting to explode with excitement when the information is processed by the three brains.

Surprisingly enough, the first to do so is the fuzziest of the bunch. And it clearly has processed it in an equally fuzzy way.

“Corpse and Y/N sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G“ Jack sings and now it’s the other three’s turn to crack up into howling laughter on the side walk which would be more than enough cause for a few odd stares had they not been the only ones there.

That’s right, dear reader, our protagonists are done playing the Are, Were game. You, Y/N, are a lucky person and so is your boyfriend. God forbid you had strung your friends-to-enemies-to-friends-to-lovers story any further, you would’ve given Felix and Dave a synchronized heart attack.

All is well, the end ;)

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[padfootdaredmetoo]

heyy, can i get a tommy x wife!reader where she’s pregnant and wants to keep working but tommy doesn’t want her too. absolutely have fallen in love with your writing 😚

AHHHH! Thank you so much!!!!! So happy you are enjoying my stuff!!!

This is so cute. I wrote a bunch of angst today so I'm happy to end it with some fluff!

Thank you for the request and for waiting! <3 XO

Rated G: Extreme fluff.

Tommy was a control freak. Normally it was something you could handle.

But then you were pregnant. It was a surprise as the doctors had told you that you weren't able to have kids.

Tommy had always told you he didn't want to be a dad anyway, that it was perfectly fine you were barren.

This led to you packing your bags crying your eyes out when Polly told you. He came home and freaked out thinking you were leaving him for someone else. It was a very memorable moment. You realised as his face lit up and he twirled you in the air, kissing you that he’d only told you those things to make you feel better about not being able to have a baby…..

Things seemed normal till you started showing. Then he was adamant about you staying home and resting as much as possible. You’d often remind him to piss off, and that you handled most of the back end of the business. That stuff doesn't just disappear because you were pregnant.

You knew that he started asking Polly and Esme to start taking over more and more of your tasks. You’d never admit that it helped you greatly, not wanting to see the smug look on his face.

Then one night you were laying on the couch in his office by the fire, with him rubbing your sore feet.

“Tommy?”

“Yes, love?” He answered calmly.

“What are little kids like?” Your parents had died when you were small leaving you to go and live with your widowed Aunt. You never had little siblings to look after the same way Tommy did. It was something that was weighing on your mind more and more as your belly grew. What if you couldn't do it? Or what if the baby didn't like you?

“They are like puppy’s that scream” He said in a tone of amusement.

“Well it can’t be so bad then. I always had loud dogs growing up.” You said absently.

He let out a proper laugh at your response, like you’d missed a joke.

“What kind of dogs did you have then, love?”

“Aunty lived on a farm, so shepherds mostly. They're good dogs, they require a lot of love though.”

He casually switched the conversation back to work, wanting to chat about certain troublesome accounts.

Once you’d fallen asleep Tommy woke you, helping you up to bed.

“I’ll be back soon, love” He kissed your forehead just as you were falling asleep.

“Where are you going?” You mumbled.

“See a man about a dog, you know. Typical work stuff. Don’t worry about it.”

“Be safe.” You said and that’s the last thing you remembered.

__________

Morning came and you sat up making your usual run to the bathroom. When you came back to the bedroom your husband was there wearing that famous arrogant smirk, in his hands the most adorable German shepherd puppy you’d ever seen. Bright red bow tied around its neck.

“Now you can practice.” He was so proud of himself that you swore he was lucky the puppy was this cute.

He flopped into your arms licking your face.

“You mean now I have to stay home” You cuddled the little dog.

“Well if you insist.” His lips were on you before you could start yelling at him. It was a short kiss as the small pup was determined to try and join in leaving you laughing.

___

Tags List: @tommydoesntpayforsuits @misselsbells06

[draconicsparkle]

And now he have a good ol’ snake staple! Suggested by Liano4ka!

There will be a few differences, seeing as our Naga Nagi still has some human parts and isn’t all snake, but I think I did alright.

Lemme know your thoughts and feelings!

Hajime would like to think that he had a good handle on Nagito’s mannerisms and general attitude by now. After all, he was frequently around and interacted with him on a daily basis. So he knew what he was typically like.

So when Nagito began acting differently, he noticed fast.

He had almost thought he was imagining things during the first few days. He had been wondering to himself if the naga was quieter than usual. And as more days passed, it became more apparent that this was absolutely the case. Nagito was not as talkative and sluggish. And during their talks, he was able to learn that he hadn’t been feeling hungry.

Hajime got worried, as he was used to a talkative and clingy naga. But now? It was almost too quiet. Nagito sometimes didn’t have energy to come all the way to his house. He was thankful that at least he had agreed to rest at the forest’s edge so that Hajime himself could walk over to see him.

These were his thoughts swirling through his mind as he made his way over. And his worries grew as he took in the sight before him. The naga was resting on the ground, staring off to the side with unfocused eyes. He was laying in the sunlight, but despite this, his usually vibrant scales looked dull.

In addition, his senses appeared to be damped as he didn’t react at all when he reached him. It took several pats on the cheek for any reaction to occur. “Hajime. You’re here,” he whispered. He didn’t reach up to touch or grab the human. Another sign of something being off.

“Hey Nagito. Can I hang out with you for a bit? We don’t have to talk much if you are tired,” Hajime replied, tone warm and gentle.

A sigh. But one of exhaustion and not of annoyance. “Yes, you can. Quiet sounds nice right now.”

And so Hajime agreed, wanting to respect his wishes. He sat up on the naga’s arm, leaning back against the large cheek. Nagito didn’t move or react, just simply laying there.

Hajime couldn’t claim to have much knowledge about snakes or nagas. Was he sick? Were these symptoms of illness? Plagued by these thoughts, he took his phone out and typed his observations into the search engine, hoping that it wasn’t serious.

And as it turned out, it wasn’t. All of Nagito’s behaviors and changes were very common during a specific process.

Shedding.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place and the worries he had evaporated. Nagito was just about to shed. That’s why he was acting differently.

But he did feel the need to mention something to the naga. “Next time, tell me when you are about to shed. That way I won’t panic at your changes.”

He was sure that if Nagito had the energy, he would have jolted. But seeing as he was tired, all he got was a low reply. “You figured it out?”

“Only thanks to the internet.” Hajime leaned harder onto the soft cheek, making sure Nagito could feel him. “You can tell me things, you know. Maybe I can help out.”

The naga hummed, thinking about the offer. “Soaking in water helps. But sometimes I have trouble getting the little bits left behind. They get itchy if I can’t get them off quickly.”

Hajime smiled, happy for the given response. “I think I can help with that.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, Hajime found himself sitting on the bank of the waterfall pool, cross legged on the soft grass as he watched Nagito soak in the water. He appeared more content than the previous days, ready for the extra skin to come off.

“How are you feeling?” he called out, making sure to be loud as he knew the naga’s senses were a bit dull at the moment.

A green eye lazily opened, lacking its usual shine. But that would change soon, he knew. “Fine. Should be ready in a minute.”

Hajime nodded, standing up and walking over to the larger creature. He reached up to pet the white locks, earning him a small happy noise. That was nice to hear. “You will do great. And I’m here to help if you need me to.”

He continued petting the soft hair, enjoying both the feel and the noises. Nagito remained still during this, eyes closing again as he focused all he could on the touches.

Eventually, Hajime backed off to give him room. He had watched videos on snakes shedding their skin and knew they required space while it happened.

Once he registered that the human was a good distance away, the naga braced himself on the pool’s edge, gripping tight with his hands. And then he began, slowly dragging himself up and out. The rough rocks under the water helped pry off the loose skin near his midsection. He was successful, and so he continued.

Hajime watched fascinated. He could see the muscles in his tail move as he inched his way out of his old skin. It did seem quite strenuous, needing to move so carefully and slowly. But Nagito continued without stopping.

It took close to half an hour, Hajime calling out encouragement the entire time. And finally, with one last pull, the green tail tip pulled free of the shed. Nagito practically collapsed on the ground, panting heavily from exhaustion. The human walked over to his head and rubbed his neck, feeling how hard it was working. “You did amazing. Your scales look gorgeous.”

“Hah… Thank… you,” Nagito managed to say between pants. But he did lean in to the touches, already more responsive than an hour previously. That made the brunette relieved. His naga would be back to normal faster than he expected.

A few more minutes passed as Nagito recuperated, the human keeping up the touches all the while. And then he noticed Nagito beginning to rise, a tiny grimace visible. “It wasn’t a perfect shed. There are a few places that are beginning to itch. Would you mind terribly…?”

Hajime grinned. “Hey, I told you I would help. I’m not backing out now. Just show me where you need assistance.”

Some nearly invisible tension vanished from the large shoulders as Nagito moved his tail closer to him. “There, there and there,” he pointed with a claw. “Can you see them?”

Leaning in closer, the human was able to see bits of shed stuck in between emerald scales. “Yeah, I can. Now hold still.”

He raised his hands and placed them on the scales, running his hand over the smooth surface before reaching his target. Pinching the skin in between his fingers, he peeled them off. Nagito sighed in relief every time this occurred.

They repeated this until every last inch of shed had been removed. Hajime stepped back and admired his work. Nothing but vibrant, bright green scales in front of him. “Again, your scales look amazing. They look so much brighter.”

And then without much warning, his body was grabbed and his feet left the ground. He found himself being nuzzled quite vigorously. “I cannot thank you enough. Not only for understanding, but also helping! I am truly blessed to have you here in my life.”

This was the naga he was more familiar with. So he happily rubbed his cheek back with his own. “It was my pleasure. I’m glad to see you back to being your old self.” He poked the cheek next to him hard. “But tell me this. How often do you shed?”

The nuzzles paused for a moment as Nagito thought. “I believe… once a season?”

“So about four times a year. I’ll keep that in mind.” He then glanced over to the tan shed laying off to the side. “What do you usually do with that?” he asked, pointing to it.

“My skin? I leave it where I shed. It breaks down and becomes nutrients for the soil. So you don’t have to worry about it!” Nagito exclaimed, beginning to move away from the waterfall. “But now that it’s all done, we can do more! I feel a lot better now that it’s off. So let’s go!”

Hajime rolled his eyes but didn’t protest. He got what he had hoped for. “Sure, sure. Just remember to bring me back to my house before sunset.”

He was gently squeezed in lieu of a hug. “I can most certainly do that.”

Masterpost

[luimagines]

oooh i have an idea, how would dear reader reacts to the chain's secrets? they could be canon like wolfie being twi, or something you headcanon!

Masterlist

I procrastinated on this one admittedly because I had no idea where to take it but after writing out a list and appointing a secret to each boy. I have it done.

Some things are definitely headcanons.

Part one will include Hyrule, Sky, Warrior, Four and Wild.

Content under the cut!

Hyrule

The battle wasn’t necessarily hard to deal with- the monsters weren’t difficult to deal with and there weren’t a lot of them to begin with.

You slashed, dashed and kicked every enemy away from you and watched as they fell to your blade. Every new step revealed a new purple cloud as you danced around the battle field.

You saw Wild and Twilight fighting back to back with practiced ease and handling it as well as you were. Warrior and Sky was side by side closer to Time and Legend than the rest of the group was and Four and Wind were up in the trees striking the enemy down at a distance and no doubt scheming something while the going was easy.

The only one you had no idea where he was, was Hyrule.

And that didn’t take a lot to dive into your brain and wriggle uncomfortably until your own insecure thoughts pushed you to go look for him.

Between the monsters and the land mines of purple smoke, it was a little difficult to find him.

But when you do- he does something you don’t fully understand at first.

You manage to run into him in a clearing, but he doesn’t notice you at first. Instead, you see him take his sword and run it through his palm. His blood coats the length of his blade, and it drips down his hand onto the grass below.

He watches the monsters in front of him and dances for a minute around them before he takes a breath and kills them effortlessly.

You frown and step toward him. “Why did you do that?”

Hyrule jumps higher than should be physically possible and doesn’t catch himself on the way down. He falls flat on his butt and looks up at you with wide and startled eyes.

“Are you ok?” You kneels next to him and go to take his injured hand. “What on earth were you trying to do?

Hyrule jerks his hand back like you’ve burned him and you see the magic flow through the air around his wound- closing it like it never happened.

“Link?” You frown again and slowly place your hand in your lap. You’re confused and a little afraid for him. You know that blood magic is taboo for a reason and is typically avoided more often than not because of its’s dark nature- but you never thought Hyrule of all people would dabble in it.

“I’m fine.”

“Link.” You stress a little more. “What were you trying to do? I didn’t think you were capable of blood magic... At least you don’t usually use those kind of spells. Is that why you fight on your own for a while each time?”

“I’m not using blood magic.” Hyrule frowns and stands abruptly. 

“Then why-?”

“It’s not important.”

“Hyrule, you’re hurting yourself. I’d say that that’s pretty important.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Don’t make me get Time.” You threaten. “I’ll get Legend too. I bet they’ll get some answers out of you.”

“You won’t just drop it, will you?” He sneers

“Nope.” You stand and cross your arms. “What were you trying to do?”

“I was just checking something.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like if a curse would work or something?”

Hyrule tenses and he crosses his arms- instantly looking away from you.

“WERE YOU ACTUALLY TRYING TO CAST A CURSE?!” You screech.

“THE CURSE WAS CAST ON ME!” He yells back.

You both still for a moment and wait for the forest to show any signs that others might have heard you.

The sounds of distant fighting continues and after a minute of waiting some more, no one shows up to check on either of you, so you’re safe.

You turn back to your companion and furrows your eyebrows. You lower your voice just above a whisper just in case someone might be on the way but now you need answers. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He scowls- a face you’re not used to seeing on him and throws his arms down his sides in anger. “Back home, Ganon cast a curse on me. The monsters need my blood in order to resurrect him and I can’t risk letting any monsters from my time getting to me. I need to check if the other monsters will follow suit.”

You blink, not expecting that answer but your anger flares up regardless. “So you go out on your own to check this curse because your blood is needed to resurrect hatred incarnate? What if you’re overpowered? What if they do react to it? How are we supposed to help you if you’re alone?”

“It’s my problem to deal with. I don’t need-”

“Shut up.” You scowl and grab him by the shoulders. You shake him roughly for as long as you speak. “We are your friends! We care about you! We don’t want to see you hurt! We’re going to help you! Whether you want it or not- we’re not to let you deal with this alone. Not while we’re here.”

“Stop shaking me.”

You let him go.

“I won’t tell the others because I know you wouldn’t like that.” You say. “But this stops today. You hear me? None of us are just going to let these freaks near you and this is not necessary while you have a whole team of heroes just as pissed about the situation as you are. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“How clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good.”

Sky 

Sky wakes up one day with a far away look in his eye which immediately puts you on edge.

Not only that but to make it worse, he doesn’t stop looking at you.

He looks scared.

Every five minutes you swear you catch him looking in your direction only to look away in haste when you look back at him.

No one is saying anything and it doesn’t help your paranoia.

With some people walking ahead you, you step back and take a spot next to Sky. You notice that he’s tense and walking robotically, and trying to match your pace. “Dude, what’s up? You’re freaking me out.”

Sky trips over himself and finally looks you in the eye. “What do you mean?”

“You woke up like you saw a ghost. You’ve been looking over to me every five minutes and even now you look like you want to sprint away from me. Did I do something?”

“I.. Ummm...” Sky stutters for a minute before swallowing whatever lump was in his throat. “I just had a dream... is all.... I’ll get over it.”

“I’m assuming it had something to do with me then.”

“No, not exactly.” Sky’s quick to speak even if you can see the beginning’s of sweat collect on his brow. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Want to talk about it?” You tilt your head. “It looks like it really shook you up.”

“Oh, um, I-”

“Maybe you died and Sky freaked out.” Legend pushes you forward and away from Sky. “He doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.”

“Ok, my god, Legend slow down! Not everyone is as emotionally constipated as you! Talking about things is healthy and important!” You shout over your shoulder, trying to dig your heels into the dirt with little to no luck.

Legend seems a bit stronger right now that he usually is, you bet it’s his power bracelet.

If Sky actually looks a bit paler at Legend’s claim than neither of you notice.

The day passes a little calmer after that, Sky seeming to have calmed down enough to not be so weird and it something you’re quick to forget about.

By the time the afternoon hits, a bunch of dark and foreboding storm clouds roll in.

Somehow, Sky manages to find it in himself to walk next to you again and does his best to stay close.

You don’t mind it and even jokingly pull his sail cloth over your head when it begins to rain on your group. It’s not particularly strong and there’s not a lot of options to rest and take cover, so you bare with it. Sky lets you keep the sail cloth over your head surprisingly.

But then there’s thunder and you see lightning in the distance and bite your lip. “Maybe we should hunker down or something?”

The rain goes from gentle drops to a down pour within seconds and the group runs a bit to gain as much cover as you can in the nearby tree line.

Sky pushes himself in front of you and shoves you behind him with enough force that you’re fully knocked over. In one fluid motion he lifts the Master Sword skyward and charges the blade, tossing it away from the group in a glowing blue arc. It cuts through the grass and even splits the first tree it strikes in half before dissipated into the air. 

You would have been struck by lightning if he didn’t do that.

“Sky?” You get up and try to wipe as much mud off of your pants as you can. “Are you ok? How did you know that would happen?”

Sky gulps and takes a deep breath as he looks at you with wide eyes and understanding. “I saw it in a dream.”

“Oh...” You gasp and reach out to him shakily, putting your hand on his shoulder. “You have dreams then?”

“Yes.” Sky looks at his sword and hesitantly puts it away. “Sometimes.”

“Ok then...” You nod and look around the group. They’re all in varying stages of shock, surprise and concern.

Everyone is looking at Sky.

“We need to get out of the storm.” You say in lieu of changing the topic. ” Who knows if there’s more lightning on the way and there’s a lot of metal within the group.“

“Right.” Time nods and does a not so subtle double take in his attempt to leave it be. “Let’s go.”

You nod back and nod once more to Sky and wrap your arm around his shoulder. you lead him forward and lean into his space to whisper into his ear. “Thanks.”

“I’m just glad I made in time.”

“We’ll talk later ok?” You smile in hopes of alleviating some of the tension. “I have some questions if you’re willing to indulge me.”

“I suppose it’s only fair.”

Warrior

“He’s a cute kid.” Warrior mentions randomly one day. 

You startle and jump, nearly dropping the image. You scramble to catch it and successfully do so after playing hot potato with yourself.

“Warrior, a little warning please.” You sigh and attempt to clean your finger print smudges on the glass. “But yeah, my little brother is cute. I hope he stays that way.”

“I don’t think you have much to worry about.” Warrior shrugs. “He grows up to be a fine and upstanding young man. Good looks run in the family. ”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Thank you, I’m sure they do.”

Warrior comes to stand next to you and gently turns the glass over to see the image better.

“Warrior?”

“Hm?”

“Am I doing the right thing?” You sigh.

“What do you mean? I’d say you are. Sacrificing yourself for the good of a better tomorrow- for your family- for your loved ones- but that’s not what you’re talking about are you?” Warrior lets you take the image back.

“But he’s so young... and I’m supposed to take care of him.” You gulp. “I just want him to be safe and sound and healthy but I can’t really do that from- from... I’m here instead.“

“Well... no said it was going to be easy.” Warrior offers lamely.

“What if he grows up to hate me?” You clench the glass tighter at the thought. “I just abandoned him, didn’t I? Oh my god-”

“Hey. He loves you.” Warrior takes your shoulders in his hands and shakes you somewhat. “He admires you greatly. You’re his hero. He looks up to you even now. He’ll understand when the time comes.”

“Even now?” You sniff. “What does that mean?”

“Years have passed and he hasn’t stopped looking up to you and how you did everything you could for him, for Zelda and he’s trying to make you proud-”

“Warrior he’s five, how do you know this?”

His mouth shuts with a click of his teeth.

“Warrior.” 

“Um... I... He...”

“Link.” You pocket the glass and face him head on. “When did you meet my brother?”

He stares at you for a moment and deflates. “During... during the war of my era.”  

“...What?”

Warrior hisses and brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “He showed up around the same time that Wind did but he talked about you.... and I guess you talk to him about me because he wasn’t really surprised at what was happening.”

“How old was he?” You bite your lip, already dreading the news.

“Older than me actually.” He offers with a tight smile. “I never asked him but if I had to guess I would have put him in his mid twenties. The oldest Link to start his adventure compared to the rest of us...”

“But he still...” You deflate as well and hug your arms around yourself. “He still has to go doesn’t he? I can’t save him from it. Even now, I... I can’t- I fail him in the end then.” 

“He doesn’t see it that way at all.” Warrior catches you before you fall to your knees in despair. “He admires everything you’ve done for him, everything you’re currently doing. You kept him from danger for as long as you could- until he was old enough to take on his destiny. That’s more than any of us could say.”

“I don’t want him to go through any of it though.” You sob and lean into Warrior for support. “That’s my baby brother Warrior- how am I supposed to be ok with this?”

“I don’t think there is a way.” He admits. “Nor do I think you should be.”

“I can’t keep him from it.”

“But you can and have been postponing it.” Warrior rubs circles into your shoulder as you cry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you even more.”

“I miss him.”

“You’ll see him again.” Warrior grips you tightly. “He also did very well all things considered. He became an older brother to me and to Sprite and Wind... I don’t think Wind has figured it out yet that your brother and Lucky are the same Link though.”

You sniffle and calm down slightly. “Was he awesome?”

A laugh is startled out of him and he chokes on the snort and cough that tries to leave him at the same time. “I’d say he was better than me... And he claims to have never held a sword until then.”

“Good.” You nod. “He’s the best brother in the whole world.”

“Yeah, he was.”

Four

You’re walking on a random trail as the day dies down and you’re partner is Four for the hour.

The sun rests behind you comfortably and you talk about the different weapons from each others Hyrule. You’re no smith- but you do think it’s an interesting process and try to take notes where you can.

As you trade your notes and laugh at the more ridiculous stories from one another, you look down and notice something weird with Four’s shadow.

It almost looked like it was laughing along too... in the opposite direction that Four was looking in. But you blink and it’s as if it never there.

Maybe you’re tired.

You have been walking all day and perhaps it was a trick of the light.

You don’t think on it too much and go back to talking with your friend.

Hours later-you’d think that it would be the end of it but it isn’t.

In fact, you can’t sleep. And the way it moved was different than it should have been and the more you look into the memory there more obscurities than there should be. Not to mention that Four gets weird around shadows or whenever they are mentioned.

You stare up at the star filled sky as you think about the incident.

“I’m telling you I think they saw me.” A new voice says.

You’re thrust into the moment and attune your hearing to the direction it came from.

“I think you’re thinking too much into it. How could they have seen you?” It’s Four.

You close your eyes and roll over in the same direction, pretending to still be asleep.

The voices take a minute to pick up again when you do that.

They were watching you.

“They stared at me for a solid minute- how did you miss that?” New voices hisses.

“They were laughing-”

“You were laughing, you love sick fool. They looked at me. They saw me. I’m going to blow the secret and you’re not even listening to my warning.”

Your eyes snap open and you push yourself up as quickly as you can.

You instantly spot Four sitting by the fire, but you’re not surprised by that. What really takes your attention is the new person next to him- who looks uncannily like your friend.

But with purple hair...

And red eyes...

And darker skin...

“Four what the hell?” You blurt.

Four responds quickly and as intelligently as he can manage.  “Uhhhh...”

The person next to him curses and runs a hand through his hair. “I told you. I told you. I told you.”

You lock eyes with the new guy and introduce yourself.

He huffs and crosses his arms, his face darkening slightly- or again- maybe it was a trick of the light. “I’m Four’s shadow.”

“His... shadow...?”

“Yes. That’s what I said.”

You nod, wide eyed before turning to Four with a million questions in your eyes. He can see it and holds his hand up to his mouth, pressing his knuckles harshly against his teeth as he waits for them to start flowing out of your mouth.

“Love sick fool?”

“Shadow you snitch!” Four screeches and takes a swing at him.

His cry is loud enough rouse some of the others but only really wakes up two of them. You stare tensely as Time and Legend sit up fast enough to nearly throw themselves into the fire as they turn to Four.

“Sorry.” You whisper yell to save his honor.

Shadow is nowhere to be found.

Time and Legend turn to you as the only other one awake and each raise an eyebrow in tandem.

“Ni-nightmare. I yelled. I’m sorry.” You try to act like you just woke up as well and try to hunker down into your blankets.

Time sighs and wipes his eyes. “You ok?”

“I will be.” You try to smile but you’re too nervous and it comes out more forced than it should- but perhaps that helps you sell your little fib.

Legend for his part glares at you before he sits down with a solid thump and throws himself dramatically back into his bedroll. 

No words are exchanged between you two.

“Everything alright Four?” Time yawns as he also begins to lie down again.

“Yeah. All good here.” Four laugh nervously and waves him away.

Time nods, no longer paying attention and slowly... nearly half an hour later, you see that the two of them have fallen asleep again. Thankfully neither of them seem to realize that it didn’t sound like your voice at all.

Shadow appears again from somewhere and takes his spot next to Four. “Nice going.”

“Shut up.”

“Four, I have questions.” You sit up and make your way over to the two of them.

Shadow raises an eyebrow. “What’s there to explain?”

“Everything?”

“Ok. Ok. Both of you, don’t start. You caught us fair and square. Sit down.” Four sighs and gestures to the other spot next to him. “It’ll take a while.”

“Done.” You grin and nearly run over a sleeping Sky in the process. “Tell me everything.”

Wild

“Has anyone seen Mr. Champion?” You glance up after doing a supply check through your bag. You’re running a little low on rations and know the resident cook usually has some to spare.

But you haven’t seen him in a while.

“Didn’t he go to get fire wood?” Wind tilts his head.

“Wasn’t that at least an hour ago?” You respond, furrowing your eyebrows as you think about it more. Where did Wild go?

“He hasn’t come back yet?” Warrior sits up straighter. Now the rest of the group is a little more aware of their missing member and each start subconsciously checking the tree line as if he were about to come back that very second.

“I can go look for him.” You offer, standing up. “Maybe he got distracted. We are in a new area.”

“Oh great, he could be miles away and we’d never know.” Legend groans and throws his head back. “Just what we needed.”

“Have a little faith Vet.” You snort. With a quick jump and skip over the supplies, you begin to leave the camp behind. “Try calling him Wind, I’ll see if I can go find our missing chef before dinner.”

“Please do.” Time nods. “We’ll start a full search party if you’re not back within the next hour though. It’s getting too dark.”

“Noted.”

“I could find him faster.” You hear Twilight say but you’re already too far away to back down now.

Truthfully, you have no idea where to start- but you imagine that to find Wild- one must think like Wild.

You pick a direction and stick with it.

At some point maybe fifteen minutes in you reach a small creek and begin to follow to stream upwards.

It’s really more like you’re taking a hike than searching for your friend and you begin to feel a little stupid even if realistically there’s no other way for this to be done.

That is- until you see him anyway.

He’s seems to be frozen in place, staring off into the distance with his hands still held mid air, gripping the canteen he appears to have been filling up.

It confuses you and you stand there staring at him to move- to blink- to do something. But he doesn’t. “Wild?”

No response.

“Champion?” You call a little louder and begin to tip toe a little closer to him. You’re afraid that even the slightest snapping of a twig would break whatever spell he’s under and you don’t fancy a violent reaction out the man who can easily blow the whole area up with little to nothing.

But still no response.

“Link!” You hiss and eventually reach his side. He hasn’t once turned in your direction or even acknowledged your presence and you begin to doubt that he’s even conscious.

His eyes are open and he’s knelt beside the creek but maybe he got hit with some magic or something- you don’t know.

You gulp and place a hand on his shoulder. You shake him lightly but when that also proves to not do anything you begin to shake him more and more until you nearly throw him over-but he does not react at all.

“Oh boy... What on earth happened to you?” You bite you lip and begin to look around. He’s too heavy for you to carry on your own and also too far away to yell for help or assistance.

You should have dragged Twilight with you.

Suddenly he takes a deep breath and blinks rapidly, shaking himself back into the present. 

You freeze and tense up considerably as you watch him come back to himself.

Wild stretches and looks up at the sky before standing up. “Twilight’s not going to like this.”

“No. I don’t think so.” You reply.

He freezes as well and looks at you by only shifting his eyes. “How long were you here for?”

“A while...” You admit. “Maybe fifteen minutes. You were gone for over an hour. I got worried.”

“Oh. That’s not so bad then.”

“You ok?” You gulp and slowly drop your shoulders from your ears and unclench your fists.

“Yup. Peachy.”

You nod and continue to lower your guard- not trusting this one bit. “May I ask what that was?”

“Just a memory.” He shrugs and tries to walk past you.

“A memory?” You frown and turn on your heel to follow him. “A memory? I shook you head enough to nearly throw you into the water and you claim it was because of a flashback? I’ve heard of disassociation before but I think this is more like astral projection through dimensions. You were completely gone!”

“It happens from time to time. Nothing to worry about.”

“What if something came up behind you and killed you?” You argue. “I’d say that’s something to worry about. Does this happen often?”

“Everyone once in a while. Maybe once every other month. It depends really. It doesn’t happen as often as it did in the beginning though.” Wild admits and gestures for you to follow him.

You do- but you keep asking him questions.

“So this is normal?”

“For me? Yes.”

“For you?”

“I...” Wild hisses slightly as another thought comes to his mind. “I never told you did I?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m going to assume that no, you didn’t.”

“I get memories from my old life from time to time when something triggers them. I used to have amnesia but I’ve got most of the my memories back at this point... By now it’s just filling in little blanks.” Wild shrugs. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Oh...” Understanding calms you somewhat. At least it’s not a magic spell or anything. “How did you get amnesia? Do you remember that?”

Wild stops in his tracks and looks at the ground momentarily before looking up again and walking forward. “I died.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“I died.”

“Huh?”

“I. Died.”

“WILD!” You tense up again and follow him without hesitation. “What do you mean you died? Did you heart just stop or were you like blow up or something- Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I’m being super insensitive right now, aren’t I? But I don’t understand! I don’t- Wild- Link- you can’t just drop a bomb like that. Are you like a ghost or something? No. Wait. You can bleed and I’ve seen you crash into more walls and rocks than I care to admit.”

“This isn’t exactly the reaction I was expecting.” Wild frowns and cuts you off. 

“ArE YOu oK?!”

“I’m here aren’t I?”

“But that’s not what I mean- How can that even make sense-”

“Where did you think I got my scars from?” Wild cuts you off once more with a barely restrained snort as he bites his lip.

“Oh my god.”

“I’m fine I promise.”

“Wild nooo....” You whine and Wild thinks for a minute that the information upset you so much that you’re going to cry. “Who did it? I’ll kill them with my bare hands. Who hurt you?”

Wild comes to a full stop again and sighs. Deep and tired but he tilts his head and offers you his hand. “Do you want the short story or the long?”

“Long story please.”

For the first time since this conversation started, Wild smiles even if it’s faint and subtle. “Alright, let’s take the scenic route back. This might take a while.”

Part 2

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

Lost || Lab Rats: Elite Force ||

Chase meets a girl at the city’s art museum who strikes up a conversation with him but he’s reluctant. After what happened with Reese and Rodissius, he’s completely lost his will to trust others, especially random strangers that approach him. Little did he know that the two of you share that same fear

Pairing: Chase Davenport x Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 2K

A/N: I give you… soft Chase? Sort of soft Chase? Anyways, I haven’t properly written in a year and this is what I come back with first… Did I do good? I like it, and it feels different from everything I’ve written before, like more genuine. Anyways, enjoy and I hope you all liked it!

Chase stood in the Centium Art Museum, in front of a Monet painting that he’s already seen dozens of times. He wasn’t quite looking at the painting though, more like lost in his thoughts. Thinking about the things he came here to escape from but they only followed.

He wasn’t typically the type of person to come to an art museum, leaning more towards science. But it was quiet here, a place where he could come and collect his thoughts in peace. Somewhere where he could escape from his teammates and their pestering about things he didn’t want to talk about. Here, he could let go of himself and not worry about a single thing for just a few hours.

Plus, he was discovering a new side of himself, one that did enjoy the spoils of art. He liked the creativity and the sense of tranquility art brought. It taught him how to let go and be someone else besides Chase Davenport, bionic hero. To be himself rather than what others wanted or expected him to be. What he expected himself to be.

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” A voice said beside him, startling him out of his thoughts.

He turned his head to see a girl standing next to him, staring at the painting in front of. He tensed up just a bit, caution filling his being as he continued to look at the girl. She looked harmless, from her profile view he could see a delicate smile and gentle eyes. Nothing about her screamed threatening but that didn’t stop him from keeping his guard up.

The last girl he talked to also appeared non threatening and she ended up hurting him the most. So regardless of her appearance, he wasn’t about to let her or anything distract him. At least not like that, no, never again.

You tore your gaze away from the painting and turned your head to look at the boy. You noticed how he was just staring and your smile widened just a bit to show that you were friendly. He looked a little startled so perhaps you shouldn’t have snuck up on him.

“Sorry, I hadn’t meant to scare you. It’s not often I find someone admiring Monet’s work so deeply,” You told him.

“It’s fine, I just hadn’t noticed you there. But yes, his work is beautiful,” He replied, still weary.

“I’m {Name},” You introduced, turning full body to face him, hand outstretched in front of you.

He hesitated for a second before doing the same, softly grasping your hand in his and giving it a gentle shake. “Chase.”

“It’s nice to meet you Chase,” You replied.

You let your hand gently slip away from his before it fell behind your back. Your eyes casted downwards before shooting back up to meet his gaze, finding your heart beating a bit faster than usual. You couldn’t deny that he was attractive, more than you had expected him to be.

“Likewise,” He said shortly.

You broke your gaze from his and turned to look back at the painting, one you’ve already looked at hundreds of times. But each time you did, it was like looking at if for the first time. And you always managed to find something new in it every time you came back.

“So may I ask what brings you here?” You asked.

He didn’t reply right away, he was unsure of what to say without being so revealing. He could just say he liked art and the quiet atmosphere, nothing there that could give him away.

“I like the art and it’s quiet enough to think without interruption,” He told you.

“I can agree with you there. I love coming here and just getting lost in the art,” You said.

He hummed out in response, once again unsure of what to say or do. He was still trying to figure out what your plans were with him. After all, he couldn’t fathom the idea of someone actually being interested in him. Many people have proven that to him, that no one could actually like him.

“Would you like to get coffee or something?” You asked, interrupting his train of thought once again.

He thought about if for a second, trying to decipher any hidden meaning behind your words. He couldn’t tell with your bright smile and even brighter eyes if there was any. Although maybe this way, keeping you close, he could figure out your intentions before you could reveal them.

“Sure, coffee sounds good,” He replied, noticing how you seemed surprised.

“Okay, great! I know a coffee shop nearby,” You told him.

Before he knew it, you had led him out of the museum and down the streets of Centium City. He could only follow behind and listen to you promise that this place was great. There was something about your tone of voice that pulled at his heart. The way your voice was so light and airy, and didn’t miss a beat to your words. It was cheerful and bubbly yet soothing and calming, a certain je ne sais quoi if you will.

Before he knew it, the two of you were sat at a table, waiting for your drinks to called out. The two of you sat in silence for a bit, sitting across each other. Chase had his hands folded neatly on the table, slightly twiddling with his thumbs as he wondered if he should speak up. You took it upon yourself as you looked at him and spoke up, same tone in your voice as before but softer now that the two of you were indoors.

“So, besides art, what are some other things you like?” You asked, interested in getting to know him.

He furrowed his eyebrows at your question, this felt like some sort of interrogation tactic. Or maybe it was just you genuinely interested in him. Could he allow himself to believe that? Well, regardless of what you were trying to do, he needed to be a step ahead and make it seem like you had the upper hand in this.

“Well, its all things you probably wouldn’t be interested in,” He replied.

“Oh? And why is that?” You asked, raising an an eyebrow in amusement.

“No offense or anything but most people, especially girls—women—aren’t interested in what i’m interested in,” He explained, leaning back in his seat and shifting in it a bit. His heart raced a bit as he thought of what an idiot he must’ve sounded and looked like right now.

“Mm, enlighten me, pretend I’m someone who is typically interested in that sort of stuff,” You said, giving him this smile that made his heart skip a beat.

He leaned forward again, your words piquing his interest and his guard dropping a bit. “Science mainly, well its a lot more than that,” He started off, quick to go into a tangent of all the things science.

You listened closely and intently, a smile pulling at your lips as you noticed how excited he seemed. You leaned forward, resting your chin on the palm of your hand as he continued to talk. He looked up after a few minutes of rambling, stopping mid-sentence when he noticed you staring at him. He stopped altogether and leaned back in his chair, putting up his defenses once again as he mumbled.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

“Hm? No, no, I was just enjoying you ramble is all,” You told him.

His eyes widened a bit in shock before narrowing down at you. “Okay what’s your deal?”

You opened your mouth to speak before the voice of a barista calling out your drinks interrupted. “Hold that thought, I’ll go get our drinks.” You said before getting up and leaving him alone in his seat.

He sighed softly as he waited for you to come back, bouncing his leg in anticipation for your return. You came back a minute later, two mugs in hand as you set his drink down in front of him before taking your seat. He looked down at his drink before looking up at you, eyebrows still furrowed.

“What do you mean? Did I say something I shouldn’t have?” You asked, referring to his question from before.

“I mean, this, you, pretending to take an interest in me... What are you really up to?” He told you, his lips turning downwards in a frown.

“Pretending? Who said I was pretending?”

“Oh come on, you’re not really interested in what I have to say, are you?”

You frowned slightly and furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not understanding why he thought this. “Well, I will say I’m not the biggest science buff... but I do like to learn and I like listening to what others have to say. Maybe I don’t fully understand everything you’re saying but it doesn’t mean you can’t teach me.”

“Alright fine, say all of that is true but why me? What makes me so interesting to listen to?” He asked.

You stayed silent for a bit, biting down on your lip and pulling it between your teeth before speaking up again. “You want the truth?” You asked back, watching as he gave you a short nod in yes. “Okay... Today wasn’t the first time I noticed you in the art museum. I’ve seen you a few other times, always so lost in thought... but its just that, you seem lost. Like you’re looking for an answer that you can’t quite reach...”

Chase was taken aback by your words, eyes widening a bit and leaning back; pushing his mug away a bit and folding his hands again, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Okay but what’s so meaningful about that? Why take an interest in it?” He questioned.

“Because I know what that feels like,” You answered all too quickly, eyes casting downwards and shying away a bit as you continued. “To search for something that should be right in front of you but isn’t. To feel like you’ve been set off balance and not knowing how to regain control. Guess I was drawn to you because of that.”

You kept your gaze down on your mug, hand wrapping around the handle and resting there as your thumb lightly caressed the rim. You bit down on your lip, feeling self-conscious now that you revealed a part of yourself that had meant to stay hidden. Chase looked down for a second before looking back up, his gaze softening from your words. He understood now why you approached him and why you’d been so adamant to get to know him. You two were one in the same, both had gotten hurt by someone or something and were looking for a way to mend yourselves.

“I’m sorry,” He spoke up, voice soft and sincere.

“Don’t be,” You said. “I would’ve been defensive too if I were you.”

You looked back up and offered him a warm smile, one he returned with the same warmth in it.

“Well, if I haven’t completely ruined this, I’d still like to get to know you,” He said, a hopeful tone in his voice.

You laughed lightly and smiled more, nodding your head a bit. “You haven’t ruined this at all and yes, I’d like that.”

He looked at you with bright eyes and gave you this wide, goofy grin. You spent the rest of that day, sitting in that little cafe, talking and getting to know each other. And for the first time in a long while, the two of you felt like you’d found someone you could trust again.

[bellakitse]

To Love is to Know You

“Carlitos got hurt at work,” she whispers, her face pale and frightened. “He got shot, and they are rushing him to the hospital.”

+

When Carlos gets hurt on the job, his parents find out about the important parts of his life he’s been keeping from them, mainly the man he’s in love with.

Gabriel Reyes' POV

*there is accidental outing in this since this isn’t how Carlos planned on telling his parents.

6.3k

They’ve settled in for the night and are in the middle of watching a movie their son recommended when the phone rings.

“Carlos really likes this?” he questions skeptically as more blood goes spraying across the screen.

His wife chuckles at his tone even as she winces at the scream the protagonist lets out for the 100th time.

“He’s young, Gabriel. I don’t think we’re actually supposed to like what Carlitos likes,” she tells him as she leans across the couch, reaching for her phone. She turns to him with a smile as she shows him the caller ID. “Hablando del diablo,” she says fondly before pressing talk on their son calling.

“Tell him I’m questioning his choices,” Gabriel jokes, pausing the movie as Andrea says hello with a smile. He watches as that smile quickly drops, his heart seizing in his throat as she lets out a gasp and a shaky ‘what?’ to whoever she’s speaking to. It’s obvious now that it’s not their boy.

He waits for her to end the call with a fearful ‘we’ll be there soon’ before she turns to him with tears in her eyes.

Even before she speaks, he knows, and his hands shake as they reach for hers.

“Carlitos got hurt at work,” she whispers, her face pale and frightened. “He got shot, and they are rushing him to the hospital.”

 ֎֎֎

 The drive to the hospital is both short and the longest drive Gabriel Reyes has ever had behind the wheel. Next to him, Andrea grips the rosary his mama gave her after they got married. She doesn’t pray, though, and he thinks she’s too worried to remember any prayer at the moment.

“He’s going to be okay,” he tells her, his voice rougher than he would typically use with his sweetheart, but he can see her starting to spiral, and he needs her to focus on his voice and not on all the troubling thoughts he knows are running through her head at the moment. “Carlos is young and strong. He’s going to be fine, he –”

“Is our baby boy,” she whispers, looking at him with those big brown eyes, so like Carlos’ when he was little, looking at him to make everything okay.

“El va estar bien, amor,” he tells her softly, willing himself to believe it too.

He pulls into the hospital parking lot. They quickly exit the car, holding hands as they rush towards the doors and the front desk. He’s sure they both look a fright as they ask the girl behind the counter for information.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reyes,” calls out a tired voice to them, and when they turn around, they find a familiar-looking young man with brown hair and green eyes standing before them in an EMS uniform.

Gabriel is struck by his eyes. They’re wide, the worry in them plain to see, and it’s obvious he’s been crying by how pink and puffy they are.

“I’ve been waiting for you both; I didn’t want you to get lost,” he tells them, pointing to a door at the far end of the hall to the left. “We’re in there.”

“How’s Carlitos?” his wife asks at the same time as he says. “We’ve met you before.”

“Uh – yes – you have, sir. I’m TK,” he answers with a grimace. Gabriel knows it is the young man’s effort to smile but just can’t. “We met at the farmer’s market about nine months ago.”

TK turns to Andrea, his expression softening instantly. “They took Carlos to the back when we got here, ma’am, but we haven’t heard anything yet.”

“What happened?” he asks TK and is struck again by how expressive his eyes are. Gabriel sees pain, fear, frustration, and anger cross his face.

“We were answering a call to a disturbance; a man was threatening to set fire to his ex-bosses place and was holding them hostage inside. He was armed, so Carlos and the rest of APD went in first,” TK takes a pause, swallowing hard, and Gabriel is struck by how the young man is keeping it together when it’s undeniable that it’s difficult for him to do so. “Shots were exchanged, and the suspect was neutralized but not before he hit Carlos.”

“Where?” he asks, hoping against hope that his son was wearing his vest. TK’s face, scared and apologetic, tells him it doesn’t matter.

“T – the,” TK clears his throat, lifting a hand to run through his hair. Gabriel catches the slight shake of it. It’s not the only thing he spots on them. Though mostly clean, Gabriel notices specks of blood on them. Looking him over once more, he sees some on his uniform too. “The neck, sir.”

Andrea lets out a gasp, bringing her hand to her mouth to try and muffle the sound.

“You worked on him,” Gabriel realizes. He needs to focus on something other than the information they’ve just been given.

“Yes,” TK answers, biting down on his lip to the point that Gabriel wants to wince at how painful it looks. Given the redness of his mouth, the kid has probably been doing it a while now. “My Captain didn’t want it to be me – ” TK stops.

He takes a breath, collecting himself. “We stabilized him on the field and then brought him over. My Captain is here if you want to speak with her while we wait for the doctors.”

They follow the young man down the hall into a private room, and Gabriel is shocked to see how full it is with first responders, most still in uniform like TK. Everyone seems to turn to look at them when they walk in.

“These are Carlos’ parents,” TK explains to the crowd before turning to a tall woman with a sympathetic but no-nonsense look on her face. “Captain Vega, could you – ” he gestures towards them.

The Captain nods, standing from her seat to walk over to them. She has a bag with her that she hands over to TK.

“Nancy brought your stuff from your locker,” she says to the kid with a kind smile. She places her hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Why don’t you go change while I speak with Carlos’ parents.”

TK nods, looking relieved. “Yeah, Cap, thanks.” He turns towards them, looking like he wants to say something else but doesn’t. Instead, he gives them a small nod and walks away, leaving them with his Captain.

Gabriel focuses on her, reaching out to hold his wife’s hand as Captain Vega goes through the emergency in more detail. She’s compassionate but honest as she breaks down her assessment of Carlos’s injuries on the scene and their handling of it.

“TK is one of the finest medics I have ever worked with,” she tells them, with something akin to pride in her voice. “And it’s Carlos. He wasn’t about to lose him,” she continues softly, knowing. “We got him here, and they’ve had him in the back for the last hour. I’m sure they’ll come out and tell us something soon. All we can do now is wait, unfortunately.”

“And pray,” Andrea whispers thickly.

“Never a bad idea,” she says with a small, understanding smile. She looks away from them when someone calls her name, an older man in uniform walking towards them.

“Tommy, any word? Where’s TK?” he asks, rushed.

“Nothing yet,” she answers the man whose uniform says, Captain Strand. “And TK is changing. We didn’t want him to still be in the uniform that – “ she pauses, her eyes drifting to them.

“Right,” Captain Strand nods before his blue eyes turn towards them. Gabriel watches as he quickly recognizes who they are. “Mr. and Mrs. Reyes?” he questions, exhaling loudly when he answers him with a nod.

“Owen Strand, TK’s dad,” he says, extending his hand to Andrea first and then him. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m sorry it can’t be under better circumstances.”

Gabriel cocks his head at the peculiar comment.

“You work with our son?” Andrea asks politely, probably trying to distract herself from the worry she’s feeling.

“Often,” Owen gives them an honest smile. “He’s one hell of a police officer, good instincts, good head on his shoulders, strong,” he tells them intentionally. “He’s going to come through this just fine.”

Gabriel appreciates the comment, if anything, because it makes Andrea smile for the first time since they heard the news.

“Why don’t we sit down,” Owen continues. “We’re going to be here a while,” he points towards three firefighters with the same 126 insignia he has on his clothes, and they quickly get up, giving them the space. “Maybe we can get you some coffee or tea?”

He shakes his head but nods towards Andrea. “Some tea might be good for your nerves, vieja.”

Andrea nods absently, and Owen turns his head towards the trio who gave them their seats. “Strickland, Marwani, Chavez – “

“On it, Cap,” says the young Latino whose chest tag says, Chavez. “We’ll get for everyone.”

Owen offers the kid a grateful smile. “Get TK a sandwich. I know he hasn’t eaten.”

“He might not want to,” says the other man in the group with a deliberate look.

“We’ll sit on him and force him if we have to,” answers the young woman in the headscarf with a glint in her eyes that tells him she’s not joking. Gabriel watches them leave the room.

“They’re good kids,” Owen comments, catching his gaze. “They care about Carlos very much,” he says with a soft laugh. “Probably because he’s always feeding them when they hang out at his place.”

Andrea smiles at the comment, but Gabriel finds it curious. He doesn’t find it strange that his son would be welcoming. Like his mother, Carlos has always strived to make everyone feel at home. He is just surprised that his son is so close with this particular firehouse and its members.

TK comes back into the room in a hoodie and sweats, looking around. Gabriel watches as his eyes land on them before moving over to his father. He watches as the kid’s shoulders drop at the sight of his dad and quickly makes his way over, almost plowing into him as Captain Strand stands with his arms open, circling them around his boy.

“He’s gonna be okay,” he hears him whisper into his son’s ear. “Carlos wouldn’t leave you, you know that.”

Gabriel takes a sharp breath at the words; he looks over at his wife, seeing that her eyes have gone wide as she stares at the father and son with a newfound gaze, and he knows she’s caught it too.

Before they can come to terms with what it might mean, a doctor in green-colored scrubs walks in with a manila folder in hand. “I’m looking for Officer Reyes’ family?” he questions, startling as everyone stands or looks over at him.

Gabriel is surprised himself but warmed by the idea that so many people care about his son. “Over here,” he calls the doctor over. “We’re his parents.”

The doctor nods in response, crossing the distance between them until he’s standing in front of them, TK and his father joining in. “We’ve stabilized your son enough to move him,” the doctor starts. “He’s in the O.R. now; we’re repairing the damage. He was lucky that the bullet didn’t hit his carotid artery.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Andrea rushes to ask, fear coloring her question.

“We’re doing everything we can, ma’am,” the doctor answers softly with a sympathetic look. “He’s holding strong and was brought in quickly.”

“When can we see him?” he asks, his heart dropping at the shake of the doctor’s head.

“It’s going to be a while,” he answers. “We’re not sure how long it will be in the O.R., and then in recovery, it’s going to be a couple of hours.”

Gabriel feels the room deflate around him at the answer and feels the same.

“For now, I need his next of kin to sign off on some waivers,” the doctor continues as he looks inside his folder, reading out of it. “Who is Tyler Kennedy Strand?” he asks, the question filling the room with sudden tension.

“Uhh – me,” TK stammers, his eyes going to him and Andrea awkwardly. “But his parents – “

The doctor cuts him off with a shake of his head. “Officer Reyes’ work forms have you as the one with the power of attorney over any medical decisions on his behalf. You are aware of this, yes?”

TK looks pained and uncomfortable, apologetic even as he looks at Andrea before nodding. “Yes,” he says softly. “Carlos and I spoke about it a few months ago.”

“Then I need you to come with me, Mr. Strand,” the doctor answers, his eyes shifting over to them as well. “It’s just a formality, you understand.”

TK nods again, gesturing for the doctor to go first, following him out of the room, leaving the rest of them in silence, and he and Andrea stunned.

“They’re involved,” he states, not sure to who, but he catches Captain Strand’s slight wince.

“TK will explain when he comes back in,” he assures them, though Gabriel isn’t sure what he would have to explain. It’s pretty obvious the kid is someone important enough to his son that he would leave him in charge of his care if anything happened to him, and he and his wife know nothing about him.

Andrea reaches for his hand. When he looks at her, he sees the same confusion and hurt in her eyes he’s feeling. He squeezes it reassuringly as they retake their seats, neither knowing what to say.

They stay like that, silently waiting for TK or the doctor to come back. Owen walks away from them, drifting towards the other Captain.

After a few minutes, the ones who walk in are the trio of firefighters the Captain sent out for a snack.

“Te de manzanilla,” Chavez says with a boyish smile as he hands the cup of tea to Andrea. “My Abuela says it’s good for nerves.”

Andrea takes it but doesn’t drink right away. “Thank you – um?”

“Oh! I’m Mateo,” he answers before pointing at the other two who are finishing handing out bottles of water and coffees. “That’s Paul and Marjan. We’re friends of Carlos,” he says with another friendly smile as they come over to them.

“Nice to meet you all,” Andrea answers, elbowing him in the side to do the same.

Gabriel checks out, his mind drifting while his wife picks up the slack and chats with the trio, exchanging small talk. He only tunes in when Mateo asks about their new filly.

“You know about Sally?” he questions, frowning, confused. He gets a few nods from all of them and smiles.

“Carlos showed us pictures of her the last time we were over at his and TK’s place for dinner.”

Gabriel can’t help the sharp breath he takes at the comment.

“They live together?” Andrea asks, shocked, her voice above a whisper.

“Oh,” Paul says softly, his eyes widening with realization at their lack of knowledge. He exchanges worried looks with the young woman Mateo called Marjan. Both open their mouth as if to speak and then stop at a loss for words. Luckily for them, TK walks back into the room, making his way towards them.

“Guys, could you give me a second with Mr. and Mrs. Reyes?” he asks politely but firmly.

“Yeah, of course, man,” Paul says quickly, while Marjan tugs on Mateo to stand, moving away. Paul starts to follow them, only to stop and look at TK, speaking again with an apologetic look on his face. “We’re sorry, we didn’t know – “

TK waves him off, a half a smile on his tired face. “Don’t worry about it, Paul.”

Paul gives him a nod, looks at them, and nods again before walking away.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” TK tells them softly, biting down on his lip for a moment before taking a breath, straightening his shoulders. “I’ll do my best to answer them. Should we find somewhere a little more private?”

He looks over at his wife and finds her studying TK with a curious eye. He’s not surprised. He’s more than curious himself about this man who is important enough in his son’s life to be making decisions of life and death for him and apparently living with him. “I think that might be best.”

TK nods mostly to himself, motioning for them to follow him.

He leads them out into the hallway and into another room that Gabriel realizes is the chapel.

“Is this okay?” TK questions nervously. “I don’t want to be disrespectful,” he gestures towards the altar.

“It’s fine, TK,” Andrea assures him.

They take a seat together towards the back of the room, TK sitting across from them.

Nobody says anything for a long moment. He sits watching TK as he taps his foot, and Andrea plays with her hands, struck by the similar nervous motions. He recognizes as TK looks at them with a worried wrinkle between his brow, he doesn’t know where to start, and Gabriel is struck by how young he looks like this. It reminds him of Carlos’ nervous habits growing up, so concerned with disappointing them.

“How long have you and our son been together?” he questions, ripping off the bandaid.

“We’ve been dating for over a year,” he answers honestly, wincing when Andrea lets out a shocked sound. “But we’ve known each other for over a year and a half. It took a while for us to get – us, right.”

“A year?” Andrea questions, surprised and more than a little sad. “He’s kept this from us for a year?”

“He didn’t mean to,��� TK rushes to explain – to defend their son to them, Gabriel realizes. He stops looking nervous, and Gabriel can honestly feel the wave of protectiveness coming off the young man.

While the part of him that isn’t still shocked at this sudden news is pleased that Carlos has found someone obviously loyal to him, another part of him is at a loss at being someone this young man thinks he needs to protect his son from. It leaves an unpleasant feeling in his stomach he tries to push down before he reacts in a way that he’ll regret later.

“Then what did he mean?” he questions, trying to understand. “Because if you guys have been dating for a year, that means you two were together when we met you at the market, and he called you a friend from work.”

He feels bad as his words cause the kid to flinch, and a small cynical smile twists his lips upward for a second.

“Yeah, that caused a big fight between us,” he answers dryly. “Look, this is something you need to talk about with Carlos when he comes to. We both knew it was a long time coming, and trust me, he’s been working up the nerve to tell you both about us.”

“Why would he need to work up the nerve?” Andrea questions while Gabriel watches as TK’s eyes flash, his hands curling for a moment. He’s struck by the fleeting anger he sees there – at them.

“Because you’re both more traditional, and he didn’t want to rub your noses in our relationship,” he answers tightly, making Andrea gasp.

Gabriel feels his hackles raise at the resentment he hears in the words. “Hey now, you don’t get – “

“Carlos’ own words,” TK interrupts, his voice sharp enough to stop him. TK stops too, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

“I apologize,” he starts again, his voice calmer. “It’s not my place at all, and Carlos needs to be the one to explain this to you.”

Gabriel exchanges a glance with his wife, letting out a sigh when she gives him a serious look. He turns towards TK again, taking a calming breath of his own. “But he’s not here right now, and we’d like to understand.”

TK lets out a sigh, nodding at them after a moment. “You’re right,” he agrees quietly, running a hand through his hair. “I just really wish he was here, though,” he pauses, the pain and love in his eyes as he speaks striking a core with him. This man loves his son. That much is clear.

“Okay, first things first. Carlos loves you both so much,” he tells them reassuringly. “He speaks of both of you with so much respect and admiration. Please don’t doubt that for one second. He didn’t keep us a secret from you because he doesn’t love or respect you.”

“Then why?” Andrea asks, trying to understand.

TK presses his lips together, giving her a helpless shrug of his shoulder. “Because he was scared of upsetting you, of disturbing the tentative peace that the three of you have had since he rocked your world by telling you he was gay at 17, and then none of you ever spoke about it again. He didn’t want to disappoint you.”

By TK’s expression, Gabriel knows that he hasn’t just spoken with any malice, yet he still feels his words hit him like a punch.

“But – that’s,” he stumbles at a loss for words. “Carlos could never disappoint us,” he looks at Andrea to find her with tears in her eyes. “We love our son.”

TK gives him a smile; it’s kind and understanding. “I don’t doubt that,” he tells them, looking at Andrea. “He’s so easy to love, of course, you love him.”

“You love him,” Andrea says in awe, still crying, but it feels different than before, almost happy in the middle of the hurt.

TK’s eyes fill with tears; they spill over even as he gives them a bright smile. “More than I have ever loved anyone in my life, ma’am. He is everything to me.”

Gabriel hears how much he means it in his voice and instantly remembers something from earlier. “You worked on him at the scene,” he exhales over a dull ache in his chest at the thought. “Jesus Christ, kid, how did you – “

“The worst moment of my life,” TK whispers, losing his smile, his bottom lip trembling. “And life has thrown some curveballs my way,” he inhales deeply in an effort to control his emotions. “But I wasn’t about to lose him, not like that and not now. We have our whole lives ahead of us, and I plan to spend mine with your son.”

Gabriel hears the conviction and the subtle threat he’s issuing them. He’s telling them he’s not going anywhere, and while a small part of him wants to be annoyed at the warning, Gabriel finds himself mostly impressed. He finds himself liking the kid despite the situation.

“You love him so much,” Andrea whispers, shaking her head to herself. Knowing his wife, she’s mourning the fact that they’ve missed out on seeing it. “And he loves you?”

TK nods quickly. “He never lets me doubt it, not for one single second,” he swallows before another smile takes over his face, soft and involuntary. “He’s wonderful.”

“I’m so sorry we’ve missed it,” she tells him, and Gabriel smiles to himself at how easy he can still read her. “It was never our intent to make Carlos feel like he couldn’t share with us his life. When he told us he was gay, yes, it was a surprise, but we never loved him less,” she frowns, letting out a soft breath. “We wanted him to feel like nothing had changed, and instead, we made him feel like he couldn’t talk to us.”

“But he can,” he continues for Andrea, hoping TK will understand.

Andrea nods in agreement. “He can,” she repeats. “We want to be part of the life he’s building with you.”

TK smiles. It’s wobbly but iridescent as it lights up the room. “He – we would like that very much,” he tells them, chuckling softly. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to know you both. You need to tell him when he wakes up.”

Andrea looks fearful again as she turns from TK to him and back again. “What if – “

“No,” TK answers resolutely. He holds out his hand for Andrea, covering it when she places it in his. “Carlos is going to be fine. He’s not leaving us.”

Gabriel watches them hold each other’s hands, his wife taking comfort from the man in love with their son, and hopes, for all their sakes, that he will turn out to be right.

 ֎֎֎

 The next three days are the longest of Gabriel’s life. After over seven hours of surgery and recovery, they’re allowed to see a sleeping Carlos.

If there was any doubt in his mind about TK’s feelings for his son, they’re wiped out the moment he sees him at his bedside. The way he takes his hand in his, holding it for dear life as he whispers in his ear that he loves him and that he’s there, that they all are.

They wait, hours and hours they wait for Carlos to wake up. The doctors tell them the surgery was successful, and now they just have to wait for Carlos’ body to recover enough for him to wake up. They’re not sure when that’ll be.

He walks into his son’s hospital room after taking a call from work to find TK alone with Carlos, his wife nowhere in sight.

“You know, sweetheart, if this is payback for the time I got shot and ended up in a coma, then message received,” TK talks to a sleeping Carlos, bringing his hand to his lips. “You can wake up now because I’ve learned my lesson.”

“You were shot?” he questions, raising an eyebrow, wondering exactly what these two have been through.

TK blinks up at him. He lowers Carlos’ hand but doesn’t let go. “Yeah,” he nods, clearing his throat. “Before Carlos and I officially got together, it was a house disturbance gone wrong, an accident, but I got hit in the chest and ended up in an eight-day coma. Carlos had to sit through it, the eight worse days of his life, he likes to remind me,” he turns back to Carlos, his expression softening. “I really didn’t need to learn the hard way how this feels.”

Gabriel makes a sound at the back of his throat. He takes the seat he’d been occupying next to Andrea, finding her purse still there.

“She went to the restroom and to get something to drink,” TK tells him. “I told her I would stay with Carlos.”

Gabriel nods in understanding, and the room goes quiet as neither says anything else. They both just watch Carlos, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest. His eyes stray to TK —his focus on Carlos, the way he reaches out to touch his skin like he can’t bear letting him go for a moment for fear he’ll slip away. The last few days, he and Andrea have gotten to know the kid better, along with the rest of his crew.

Their love for each other and their love for Carlos is evident in every gesture and kind word they have to say about him. It still hurts him to know he and Andrea have missed so much. As he laid in bed holding his crying wife, more than a few tears slipped his own eyes at the lost time. Every day that passes, he promises to fix it when his son wakes up.

“You know, when he was around ten, he convinced his cousin to help him up the stallion at the farm,” he starts telling him, lost in the memory. “And this was a rough horse, even I didn’t ride him much, but he got on, and the thing, of course, sent him flying,” he shakes his head to himself. “He was knocked out maybe five minutes, but they were the longest five minutes of my life.”

“Was he okay?” TK questions, concerned even though it obviously turned out okay in the end.

“A fractured arm,” he answers, chuckling. “As soon as the cast was off, he was right back at it – this time bribing the horse with apples, carrots, and beetroots until he won him over. By the end, it would only let Carlos ride him. He was so smug about it, tipping his hat at us as he rode him.”

TK grins from ear to ear. “Tell me there are pictures of him in the hat.”

Gabriel stands, pulling out his wallet. He fishes out an old worn picture, passing it over to TK. He watches as the boy takes gentle care, running his index finger over the image as he smiles down at it.

“Damn, that’s cute,” he murmurs, handing back the picture after a moment longer. “You know, he won me over with patience too.”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow at the comment, waiting for him to continue.

“When he and I met, I wasn’t in a good place emotionally,” TK starts to tell him as he looks back at Carlos, reaching up to brush his hair back. “I’d gotten out of a relationship that left me messed up, and I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I hurt his feelings at the beginning, and honestly, he should have just cut his losses.”

He looks over at him. “But Carlos doesn’t give up on people, especially when they’re hurting, so he became my friend, someone I could trust with the not-so-great parts of me. He never judged. He just cared about me more, making sure I knew that I was worth the effort even when I wasn’t so sure of that myself,” he smiles as he retakes Carlos’ hand. “He loves me even when I don’t always love myself.”

“I’m sure you do the same for him,” Gabriel answers. Even with Carlos asleep, he’s seen enough to know the two of them genuinely love each other. Now he just wants his son to wake up so he can see it for real.

“I try,” TK answers. “He makes it easy.”

“Do you think he’ll forgive us?” he can’t help but ask, the question playing in his head the last few days as he learned more of the parts of his life Carlos felt the need to keep to himself for their comfort.

TK frowns as he looks at him, shaking his head slowly. “Carlos will tell you there is nothing to forgive. He doesn’t blame you.”

“He should, though,” he can’t help but argue, feeling frustrated, angry tears at the back of his throat. Fear clawing its way back after three days of waiting for his boy to open his eyes and wondering if it will ever happen. “He was 17, a kid, scared but brave as he told us his truth, and while we accepted it at that moment, we didn’t make sure he knew that it would always be okay with us. That’s on us. We should have done better.”

“Do better now, Gabriel,” TK says to him quietly, shrugging his shoulder when he looks at him, his expression nothing but kind. “Forgive yourself, because Carlos never blamed you to begin with, and do better now.”

“Are you always so wise, kid?” he asks, smiling when TK lets out a bark of laughter.

“That is the last word anyone who knows me would use to describe me,” he shakes his head, still giggling. “Usually, it’s stubborn or reckless. Carlos has been known to call me a brat quite a few times,” he says fondly as he looks down at the bed.

“Because you always get your way,” Carlos rasps out, eyes still closed.

Gabriel isn’t sure who’s gasp is louder, his or TK’s as they both stand to get closer.

“Carlos? Sweetheart?” TK asks, cautious but hopeful, and Gabriel holds his breath as he waits to see if Carlos is genuinely back with them.

It takes a minute, maybe two, maybe three, but slowly Carlos opens his eyes.

“Hi, sweetheart,” TK whispers, tears falling even as he smiles widely down at Carlos.

Gabriel watches as his son frowns as he tries to weakly reach up to touch TK’s face. TK helps him, lifting his hand and holding it against his cheek.

“Don’t – cry, Ty,” Carlos gets out slowly, brushing his thumb under TK’s eye, earning a wet laugh from him.

“I love you so much,” he says to him, and though he’s obviously tired and in pain, the smile Carlos gives TK is the brightest Gabriel has ever seen.

“Love you too, amor,” his son whispers back to his boyfriend, sounding just as hopelessly in love with him. It reminds Gabriel of him and Andrea, and he can’t help the small sound that escapes his throat.

“Dad – ��� Carlos says softly, surprised as his eyes find him; they shift back to TK, concern coloring his expression.

“It’s okay, babe. I promise,” TK assures him with a smile as he gives his hand a squeeze.

“It is mijo,” Gabriel tells him, hoping to wipe away the slight fear he sees in his son’s eyes. He never wants to be the cause for that look again.

TK looks over to him, smiling at him reassuringly, and Gabriel remembers what he said to him moments before Carlos woke up. Forgive and be better.

“I’m gonna go find Andrea and a doctor,” TK declares, giving him a nod. He turns back to Carlos, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

TK steps away from Carlos, squeezing Gabriel’s arm as he walks by him before leaving the room, leaving him alone with his son.

Turning back to Carlos, he finds him still looking concerned as he stares at him, and that simply won’t do for him. He shifts over to where TK had been standing, now next to Carlos. “How do you feel?” he questions gently, getting a tiny shrug back.

“Tired,” Carlos gets out, his voice raspy. “Thirsty.”

“Oh! Of course,” Gabriel says quickly, turning to grab the pitcher of water on the bedside counter and a cup. Filling it, he turns back to Carlos, raising his bed a bit before bringing the straw to his lips. “Slowly, mijo.”

Carlos does as he asks, all the while looking at him. After he’s had his fill, Gabriel pulls the cup away, putting it back on the counter. He reaches out to his son, running a hand over his curls like he would do when he was a little boy.

“You scared the hell out of us, kid,” he whispers, swallowing hard as the last couple of days catch up to him. “We were so scared we were gonna lose you.”

Carlos leans into his touch. As he closes his eyes, a tear rolls down his cheek. “Sorry, pop.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Gabriel shakes his head. He takes Carlos’ hand. “These last few days have shown your mom and me how much of your life we have missed, and we’re so sorry.”

“Dad – “ Carlos tries. “I – “

“We messed up, Carlos,” he continues, needing to get it out. “We thought we were keeping things normal by not making a big deal out of you coming out, and instead, what we did was make you believe that you needed to keep parts of your life a secret for us to be comfortable. But our comfort isn’t the most important thing. Your happiness is, and as long as you’re happy, so are we.”

Carlos’ eyes fill with more tears, and Gabriel is struck by how young he seems as he looks up at him hopeful.

“We met your boyfriend,” Gabriel chuckles fondly. “I mean, obviously. He’s pretty special, Carlitos. You picked a good one.”

Carlos laughs. It’s wet from tears but joyful. “I picked the best one.”

Gabriel smiles at the pride he hears in his son’s voice. “We’d like to get to know him, son,” he says. It’s a hope and a request in one. “Your mom and I, we’d like to know him and you,” he swallows hard as his eyes burn. “We love you so much, but loving someone isn’t always knowing them. If it’s okay with you, we’d like a chance to fix that now.”

Carlos stares at him, mouth open, and there is the slightest tremble of his bottom lip.

“Carlitos.”

He and Carlos turn their heads to the door where Andrea and TK stand together. Carlos smiles at his mom, the smile growing when he notices that she’s holding hands with TK.

“Mami,” he says softly.

Andrea walks towards them, tugging TK along with her. Reaching the bed, she reaches out to touch his face. “Baby,” she whispers, shaking her head as she tries not to cry. “Please never scare us like this again.”

Carlos lets out an amused huff, closing his eyes for a second. “I’ll try, Ma.”

“Good,” Andrea grins at him, amused by his tone. “And you better be ready to be smothered for a while. TK and I have been making plans. We’re not letting you out of our sight.”

“We have a shifts chart,” TK teases him, sharing a grin with Andrea.

Gabriel watches with amusement as Carlos looks scared again, this time at the team he sees being created before his very eyes. He laughs, happy and relieved, when Carlos turns to him for support.

“I wouldn’t fight it, kid,” he warns him. “You know how your mother is, and your boyfriend seems just as bad; just accept it. They’re bonded. We all have.”

Carlos looks around at all three of them, the contentment he sees in his son’s expression, a blessing, and Gabriel knows it’s going to be okay. There is still a lot of time that he and Andrea will have to make up for. Conversations that will still need to be had.

But his son is alive; he’s safe, happy, and in love with a good man. He and Andrea haven’t missed it all, and they don’t plan to miss anything else when it comes to their boy ever again.

Carlos grins at him. “I think I’m okay with that, dad.”

Gabriel smiles back. He’s okay with it too.

[seokjinsonlyone]

Not My Type | 3

pairing: jungkook x female reader

summary: "She's a lot more than nice, so you need to be careful."

genre: friends to lovers

warnings: none; jimin here tho being flirty and stirring the pot <3333

rating: pg

wc: 1.7k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Jungkook’s newfound hobby was driving her crazy. One too many times had their little lunch rendezvous made its way into her mind in the past week. The way he sniffed her hair oddly enough was a recurring playback. She had a thing for weirdos and Jungkook could definitely be classified as that. And, that was exactly why she needed to shut this whole thing down.

Now, she considered herself a progressive individual. She didn’t mind change as long as it was for the better. She didn’t have a problem evolving her relationship with a friend. In fact, she preferred it. Always said that if she was gonna get into it, she wanted to be with a friend. But, this particular friendship wasn’t the one. It wouldn’t make sense. There was no way it could possibly be better.

They were like oil and water. They didn’t mix. Which was fine as a friendship, they could peacefully coexist. Anything more than that, however, would be an unnecessary burden. And, her life didn’t need to be anymore difficult than it already was. She wanted an easy love. It was this line of reasoning that carried her straight to her best friend’s house.

“You need to talk to your friend,” she announced, waltzing into Jimin’s home, throwing her purse on the couch before finding him sitting at the island eating cereal.

He looked up. “I’ve already told you should just ask Taemin out. He’ll most likely say yes. He thinks you’re hot. Stop trying to get me to create scenarios.”

“And, I’ve already told you I refuse to pursue a man. No matter how dreamy and evil he is,” she sighed.

In all honesty, she probably would’ve gone for it if it weren’t for the fact that she could tell he wasn’t really into her. Not in the way she would’ve liked for him to be into her. He flirted with her in person (and in her dms), held her in a way that made her stomach jump after a few drinks, but ultimately his goal was a few nights in the sheets. And, that just wasn’t her thing. She didn’t do casual. Didn’t like to invite people into her life that weren’t going to stay. So even though she thought they could be good together, she was deciding to let this one go. If he couldn’t see what was right in front of him that was on him.

“You’re gonna end up alone.”

“You must realize that I am my favorite person.” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I wasn’t talking about him. I was talking about Jungkook.”

“What he do?”

“He’s been acting weird ever since last week.”

“What happened last week?”

She sucked her teeth. “You know, when we were all here?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, pupils shifting from side to side, visibly racking his brain trying to recall what happened at his place last week. “Oh! Wednesday! I was so drunk, bro. What happened?”

“Ugh. You don’t remember asking me to rank all of y’all from most to least my type?” Typical Jimin. Cause trouble then dip.

“What’d you rank me?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I ain’t doing this again.”

He dropped his legs from the footrest of the barstool, tugging her closer and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Mmm. You couldn’t handle me either way.”

She’s not gonna lie, her heart skipped a beat. But, that’s the only reason he did it in the first place. He knew it flustered her on some level. So, she decided to play along for once, bringing her hand up to toy with the hair that rested at the back of his neck. “Baby boy, I could make you cry,” she whispered seductively.

He made a face, then pushed her away turning his attention back to his cereal. “You’re gross.”

“You started it,” she accused, laughter bubbling up at his reaction. He was CEO of “Do as I say, not as I do.” Always in the mood to dish it out, but hardly able to take it in return.

“So, what’s going on? Why do I need to talk to him?”

“Because I told him he wasn’t my type, and now he’s trying to convince me that he is.”

He choked. “What?”

“He literally showed up at my work the other day and brought me lunch.”

“That was more so directed at you saying Jungkook isn’t your type.”

“He’s not.” He raised his eyebrows, smirking conspiratorially. “He isn’t,” she insisted.

“So, you didn’t used to drool over him when you two first met?”

“See why you gotta go and bring up the past.” She wouldn’t say that she had a full blown crush on him, she didn’t know him and therefore couldn’t actually like him, but for a minute she was down bad. She wasn’t expecting to meet him when she did. Jimin had wanted to hang out and asked for a ride. He was with Jungkook when she picked him up and she was effectively caught off guard. Before she even realized what she was doing, she was out of the car and shaking hands with him in greeting. The next few weeks were spent trying her hardest to be in his presence. She never said more than two words to the boy, but yeah she was down bad. Once her hormones subsided, though, they eventually developed a friendship. A friendship that needed to stay a friendship. “Besides, I never said he wasn’t hot. I’m saying our personalities don’t match up. It wouldn’t work.”

“You aren’t that different from each other.”

“Yeah, but we’re wrong in just the right ways. It wouldn’t work.” He was right in saying that weren’t all that dissimilar, but it was because of that that she was sure starting any kind of relationship with romantic intent would go up in flames. The two were like parallel lines. Never meant to cross. Adjacent, but never intersecting. As they should.

“It sounds to me like you’re just afraid of what could happen.”

“Hold on there partner. I didn’t come here to be lectured or psychoanalyzed. I don’t even think he likes me for real, but he’s heading down a slippery slope. I just want you to talk to him before he goes and starts something that’s gonna get his feelings hurt, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see what I can do.” One thing about Jimin was that he was nosy. Had absolutely zero qualms about getting all up in other people’s business. Knowledge equals power is what he always told himself. So, if she hadn’t come to him voluntarily offering up this information, he would’ve picked up on it sooner or later, inserting himself in the middle of it all. As it stands, he’s been giving explicit permission to do some digging. All he has to do is wait for the opportunity to arise.

The opportunity came a few days later. Jungkook was sitting on his couch, phone in hand, completely zoned out when Jimin pounced.

“So... Y/N?”

Jungkook startled at the mention of her name. It wasn’t like he was just thinking about her. He definitely wasn’t about to text her. He hadn’t spent the past minutes in a daze typing, deleting, and retyping messages to send. Nope. “Huh?”

“Y/N? What’s going on with you and her?” Jimin asked again.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s going on,” he feigned innocence, voice raising an octave. Even though, for all intents and purposes, there really wasn’t anything going on.

He looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not what she said.”

“What did she say?” She talked about him?

“You tell me.” He smirked sitting down, crossing one leg over the other like some kind of therapist.

“I don’t know. We had lunch,” he mumbled.

“Why?”

“Because I thought she might be hungry.”

“And this has nothing to do with the fact that she said you’re not her type?”

He blew raspberries into the air. He couldn’t lie to Jimin even if he tried. The man always managed to see right through him. A consequence of nearly ten years of friendship. “I’m just trying to get to know her better,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“Because she’s nice.” Which wasn’t the complete truth, but if he admitted that he thought she had stars in her eyes he’d never hear the end of it.

“She’s a lot more than nice, so you need to be careful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that she’s one of the best people I know, but she’s stubborn and once she has an idea in her head it’s very hard for her to let go.”

“So you think I should stop?”

“I think you shouldn’t go into this blind, is all I’m saying. Whatever you’re doing, probably won’t be easy. And, I don’t want you to get hurt. Or hurt her. What do you plan on doing if you manage to make her like you? If you’re not serious then I think you should stop.” Jimin patted his shoulder, then got up leaving him to his thoughts.

Jungkook heard what he was saying. He did. And, he was right. He hadn’t been thinking too hard about what he was doing. Honestly, he was just following the skip in his heartbeat and so far that led him to her. There was a very real possibility of him getting his feelings hurt. She was very strong willed. Couldn’t budge her mind with a bulldozer. So, if she was dead set on being against this, there wasn’t much he could do anyway.

Still, this wasn’t something he could let go of easily. He had no intentions of hurting her. It wasn’t just some conquest for him. That much he was sure of. He would hate to get closer to her, have her catch feelings for him, then dip because he wasn’t feeling it. But, he seriously doubted that would happen. It’s not like they were complete strangers. He was just seeing her in a new light now. And as much as he didn’t want anyone to get hurt, at this point he didn’t know if this was something he should even avoid. It didn’t seem like it.

Truthfully, he didn’t feel this way often. This pull he now felt toward her. He was usually much too caught up in trying to be the best version of himself he could be to entertain thoughts of others. However, right now she had his attention and he didn’t want to look away. He opened his text thread with her typing and finally sending a message before he could overthink it.

[10:53pm] jk: lunch tomorrow?

[separatist-apologist]

Hi, it’s me, riling up anon (I really should get a tumblr account to ease my introductions and so we can become besties). Obviously, LOVE part 4! Part 5 ideas- Lucien repays the favor (obvs). He wakes up wondering how he is going to get Elain alone in the house when a gift falls into his lap - a rogue Illyrian war band is attempting to gain new territory. Exit the IC, enter elucien smut in the garden.

First of all, I would love to be besties.

Second of all, no rest for the wicked am I right? Like yesterday this is NSFW, 18+, practically unedited and obviously guarantees a part 6. It's also the longest part I've written so far. PART 5!

Elain woke with some regrets. The throb between her legs was at an all-time high and with so many people around, there was little she could do but put on a breezy, cotton gown, her wide-brimmed sun hat, and vanish into the garden where at least no one would be able to smell what was going on with her. Elain kept her thighs pressed together, hoping some of the friction would help alleviate the burn.

It didn’t, and by the time the sun was high in the sky, Elain was weeding with a grim brutality. Had Lucien left? She wanted to tug on the bond and see where he was but she didn’t want to bring him anywhere near her. Her control was too tenuous as it was. She might jump him in front of her sisters and then what? How would she possibly explain what was going on between them? She barely knew herself. None of it was ladylike…and perhaps some small part of her liked having something that was just for her. No one could offer an opinion or butt in if they didn’t know.

“Elain?” Feyre’s voice wafted from the garden wall. A moment later her youngest sister appeared in her Illyrian leathers. Elain stood, dusting off her dirty hands. “Hey…it’s nothing to worry about and not a big deal, but there was a disturbance with the Illyrian’s. One of the chiefs slaughtered a village and is attempting to take more territory. Rhys and I are going up to handle it, and I know Cassian and Nesta plan to join with the Valkyries….you’ll be alone in the house.”

Elain shrugged. “That’s fine,” she agreed, wiping sweat with the back of her arm.

Feyre bit her bottom lip, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Mostly alone…”

Elain narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

Lucien will be in the house too…not all day! But…for a while. He’s working on a treaty for Rhys and should stay in the study. He’ll leave you alone but…just in case you wanted to go out…”

Right. Elain offered Feyre a tight smile, her heart pounding in her chest. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Feyre’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “If we can’t make it back tonight I’ll send word.”

“Be safe.”

Feyre vanished, leaving Elain alone in the garden. She stood there, wondering if she ought to find him in the study and demand…demand what, exactly? It wasn’t like she was well-practiced. As she stood there, contemplating how to get what she wanted without having to just blurt it out, a hand brushed the hair from the back of her neck. Warm breath tickled her skin and when Elain spun, already aware of who was just behind her, Lucien caught her easily. He was smiling, his one russet eye dark and hungry as he gazed down at her.

“I’ve promised your sister not to bother you unless you ask,” he told her, his deep voice a shade darker than it typically was. “May I bother you, Lady Elain?”

“That depends,” she replied primly, unable to take her eyes off his lips. “On what kind of bothering you plan to do.”

A grin began to stretch across Lucien’s face, giving him a near feral appearance. “I owe you for last night.”

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear nervously. “Of course you don’t.” Lucien’s body was pressed against her own as he reached for her face, tilting it towards him. “Wrong, Elain. Tell me…can I bother you?”

“Bother me how?” She whispered, the words nearly sticking to the back of her throat.

“With my mouth, ideally,” he murmured, ghosting his lips across her own. “But I’m happy with just my hands.”

“Why not both?” She asked without thinking. She felt him smile against her skin.

“I like the way you think,” he practically purred before kissing her gently, out in the open where anyone could see. There was nothing to hide them; the garden wall would hardly come up to his hip were he standing right beside it, and though there were some lovely trees scattered about, none were broad enough to obscure what was happening between them.

Elain felt a thrill run up her spine at the thought of being so open with him. It was her that deepened the kiss, running her tongue along his lips until he opened for her. She surged upwards on her tiptoes, arms wrapped around his neck so she could revel in the way he tasted. No one had the right to smell half as good as Lucien did, like crisp Autumn air and sun washed apples, but for however good he smelled, he tasted ten times better.

She was half-drunk on the moment, lost in the feel of his hands running the length of her spine. It was so sweet, so unhurried that some small part of her wanted to revel in it. Lucien, though, had decidedly different ideas regarding what he hoped to do. Some of the sweetness shattered when his hand cupped her breast through the thin, white material of her dress while his other began rouching up the fabric.

She broke the kiss with a gasp. “Out here?” She asked. He chuckled, teasing her nipple almost absently as he gazed down at her.

“You have somewhere better in mind?”

She opened her mouth to protest, to say yes, very much so, but the look on his face stopped her. She glanced at the soft grass just beneath her feet and, before she could talk herself out of it, promptly sat down at his feet. Lucien stared for a moment and then laughed as if she’d told him the most hilarious joke, his tanned face reddening as he attempted to keep himself together.

“What?” She demanded as he dropped to one knee, and then the other until he was kneeling before her.

“You’re funny,” was all he said in response. No one thought she was funny…and never had. She wasn’t sure what to do with that information, so she tucked it away for later. “I never meant for you to sit in the grass, though.”

She frowned. “Oh?”

He was chuckling again as he hefted her into his lap. “I ama gentleman, you know.”

“Where should I sit, then?” She asked, genuinely curious. His lips curled upwards as he lowered himself to the ground and gestured at his face. Heat rose through her body and she balked, one hand pressed against her mouth.

“You’re obscene,” she accused, completely unaware people did such things. Lucien waited a beat and then, with strong, sure hands, merely dragged her across his chest until he had her placed exactly where he wanted.

“Tell me to stop,” he replied, his face half hidden beneath her dress, his breath hot against the fabric of her underwear. Oh, Gods,she thought, her embarrassment shifting towards anticipation. She swallowed hard and draped her gown over his face entirely, not that it was keep anyone from instantly recognizing what was going on between them.

“Off,” his muffled voice ordered, his finger hooking in the fabric of her underwear. It was awkward, shimmying them off while he attempted to keep her exactly as she was, but Elain managed it. Still nervous, she shoved them into the pocket of his pants, just in case anyone came by. They were still clothed…perhaps she’d lie and say she was injured and he was patching her up.

She gasped when she felt his fingers spread her open. Lucien hissed softly. “Pretty,” he murmured, she suspected more to himself than for her though the praise settled hot in her belly.

“What are you—”

He licked right up the center of her cunt and Elain nearly flew off his face. He brought one hand from beneath her skirt to hold her in place, dragging her even closer. Was he breathing, she wondered wildly, suddenly desperate for him to continue?

He licked a slow circle and Elain whined, grinding her hips against his face without thinking. Lucien groaned beneath her, the guttural sound spearing pleasure through her but.

“Am I frustrating you?” His muffled voice asked, his lips speaking practically into her cunt.

“Yes,” she gritted out, wishing he’d shut up.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, withdrawing his mouth completely.

Elain screamed softly, shoving him back into her wet folds. She heard him groan again and she wondered which he liked; the assertiveness or being that close to her body. He gave her what she was asking for, licking up the center of her, letting his tongue work over her clit in the same circular motion as before, faster, then slower, while she canted against him, urging him on.

Heat mingled with pleasure, building up, up, up and when she thought she might fall over the edge, Lucien’s tongue vanished from her clit and dipped into her entrance to fuck her with his mouth instead.

“Lucien please—” She begged. She was close, so mind-shatteringly close it had stolen her ability to think of anything else but his soft, wet mouth rubbing against her, the sweet friction almost unbearable in its pleasure.

He dragged his tongue back to his clit, his pace quickening as one finger slid into her body. Elain was lost to the sensation, unable to do anything but grind against him. Darkness crept into the edge her vision as the heat in her gut threatened to take her completely.

“Please, don’t stop, Lucien—” Her legs clamped around his head, his cunt pulsating on his finger as she screamed his name to the sky. Lucien rode her through it before sliding her down his chest just enough to sit up and kiss her roughly. His mouth tasted like her and she thought she ought to have found it disturbing or disgusting but she found the taste of her mingled in his mouth erotic.

“Lucien?!” A distant voice called. Feyre, she realized. Lucien groaned.

“We’ll continue this later,” he promised, quickly righting himself. She looked away from the bulge in his pants, still panting on the ground. Lucien vanished a moment later and she realized when she’d finally managed to climb back to her shaking legs that he’d taken her underwear with him.

[gojo-x-reader]

Not So Special Now

Relationship(s): F!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Warnings: canon-typical violence

Tags: fluff (at the end), reader-focused

AO3 Link: here

Words: ~4k

Request: “hello there, i love ur soulmate and marriage life hc 🥺 can you make scenario/hc/drabble whatever u prefer where his fem/gn so is also a sorcerer and gets hurt/injured on a mission? thank you!”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Your boyfriend, Satoru, asked you. His hands were on your biceps, giving it a worried, yet comforting squeeze.

“Yes, Satoru,” you answered, a little annoyed at how he was treating you. It’s been several years since either of you were in high school; this wasn’t your first mission.

“I can’t help but worry, you know. It’s your first ever special grade assignment.”

“Just because I’m not the same rank as you, Mr. Special Grade, doesn’t mean I’m weak. Besides, there are two others going so I’m not doing this alone.”

“I know, I know.” Satoru pressed his lips gently onto your forehead, then gazed into your eyes lovingly. In a rare instance while on the job, his blindfold was replaced with dark sunglasses. You reached up to shift them down, allowing you to gaze into his bright blue eyes. They were breathtaking no matter how many times you saw them. You moved your hands from his glasses to his shoulders, forcing him down so you could reach up to leave a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you promised.

The two of you embraced one more time before you joined your other group members for the mission. You turned back and waved at him as the three of you entered the car to be driven to the location for your mission.

“Sure wish Gojo-san was coming with us,” one of them mused. “He could handle this mission single-handedly and we could just stay home.” He sighed deeply, then put in headphones and stared out the window.

“Why isn’t he taking this mission?” your other group member asked. She stared at you, eager to know.

You had just met these two today (not even knowing their names, except that they were both Grade 1 sorcerers like you) and you weren’t sure how well this mission would go. “Well,” you began, “for one, he works best alone. Second, Satoru fights best when he’s away from civilians.” 

The girl hummed, then crossed her arms in thought. The three of you awkwardly rode in silence for about five minutes, before the girl grabbed your arm suddenly. “Soooo, how long have you been dating Gojo Satoru?” She asked eagerly. There was something about her that seemed familiar, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

You weren’t sure why this was any business of someone you just met, but you decided to indulge her to hopefully make this awkward car ride, well, less awkward.

“Two years, almost three,” you answered. The two of you had known each other since high school, but it wasn’t until almost four years ago that you had reconnected after you moved back to Tokyo, and almost three years ago when you started dating. To this day you still had no clue why he would get a crush on you over all people. There were much prettier girls he had spent more time with, why you?

“Annnnd? A ring soon?” She gushed, gripping your arm harder.

You shrugged. Satoru and you had discussed marriage at some point, but both of you were busy at the moment, especially with Ryomen Sukuna being somewhat revived into the world. While Yuuji was still technically “dead” to others, Satoru had trusted you enough to tell you about how his student had pretty much been revived from the dead. On your days off, you often visited your boyfriend and helped out with Yuuji’s training regime. He was a nice kid, despite his circumstances and being thrown into the jujutsu world suddenly.

The girl let go of your arm and got out her phone, furiously typing to someone. “Oh, my little sister won’t be happy to hear about this.”

“Little sister?”

“Yeah, my sister Momo goes to Kyoto. She’s pretty close with another girl, Kasumi, who I consider almost like another younger sister. She was super excited to meet Gojo-san a week ago. She’s like a superfan of him or something. I like to indulge her sometimes. I think she even made a fan club for Gojo-san or something. Anyways, Momo, even though she’s friends with Kasumi, she often gets annoyed with her talk about Gojo-san.”

You vaguely remember Satoru mentioning a girl from Kyoto that asked him for a picture. It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for your boyfriend to be asked to take pictures with, from the jujutsu world or from civilians; he had devastatingly good looks, so you couldn’t blame any of the people who asked for pictures. Besides, you knew his heart belonged to you and you only, so you were fine with others recognizing his allure.

“Oh, Kasumi’s calling me,” the girl said. She answered her phone, only for a younger voice to scream over the speaker. It was loud enough that you could hear it. Your teammate held her phone away from her ear.

“What do you mean he has a girlfriend?”

“Oh, come on Kasumi. You know how handsome he is. Besides, he’s like, what, twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?”

“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine in December,” you confirmed.

“Way too old for you, ma’am,” the girl relayed to Kasumi.

“I don’t like him like that , Sumi-san! I j-just really admire him, okay! W-Who wouldn’t? World’s strongest jujutsu sorcerer in all.”

“Mhm. Anyway, I’ve got a mission today with the said girlfriend of Gojo Satoru. Want me to get you an autograph?” Sumi joked.

“...Could you?”

You let out a tiny laugh. This girl was funny, so you decided to humor her and leaned toward the phone. “One autograph for Kasumi?”

“M-Miwa Kasumi!” the voice on the phone squeaked out. She told you what kanji made up her name as you rummaged for a scrap piece of paper and pen from your bag. You made out the autograph, laughing a bit as you handed it to Sumi.

After you told her you signed an autograph for her, Kasumi said goodbye, hanging up the phone before Sumi could reply goodbye back. She seemed embarrassed about the ordeal.

“You were right, she seems like a good kid.”

“Kasumi is nice. She really balances out how serious my little sister Momo is,” Sumi responded.

For the rest of the car ride, you and Sumi chatted. Apparently, this was also her first Special Grade mission, as well as her first mission after graduating from Kyoto. Their other group member was also from Kyoto; he was two years Sumi’s senior. His name was Takahashi Daisuke. She didn’t know much about him since he tended to keep to himself. But she did know this wasn’t his first Special Grade mission. That relieved you substantially since you were nervous about this mission (as much as you didn’t want to admit to Satoru).

Eventually, the roads transformed from paved to just dirt. The driver turned onto a road on a hill, then began briefing the three of you on your mission. This was a Special Grade, suspected to be awakened by a Sukuna finger. This was just based on speculation, since the last Special Grade to pop up was from a Sukuna finger as well. The Special Grade had taken over an abandoned shrine, supposedly terrorizing the local village just down the hill (which had been evacuated just hours before). As the driver parked the car, the three of you exited the car. The air was crisp, with a distinct chill in the air. You could sense a particularly strong cursed energy in the premises, on par with Satoru’s cursed energy. You shuddered; this was not going to be an easy task.

The driver placed a curtain around the area, the sky darkening. It only made the situation seem even more grave. There was something in your gut telling you to run, not from being scared of the Special Grade, but because something bad was going to happen.

Sumi grabbed a wand from her belt. Her family was a pretty small sorcerer family on her mother’s side, as she had told you in the car. She and her sister have cursed techniques similar to “witches”; hers involved spells while her sister’s involved levitating a broom, among other objects.

Your cursed techniques, however, involved nature. There was a reason why you were selected specifically for this mission; the shrine was in the middle of the forest, the perfect place for you to go wild. Cities like Tokyo were incredibly constraining for you to use your cursed techniques, so you almost exclusively were assigned missions out in the country where nature was plentiful.

Neither you nor Sumi knew what Daisuke’s cursed technique was, but you assumed it was pretty strong considering he had been on missions with Special Grades before.

The mission started off fine. The three of you approached the shrine. It wasn’t particularly impressive, nothing that you would expect to house a Special Grade curse. The stone torii at the entrance was standing tall, unbothered by neither age nor the moss and vines growing on it. The shrine itself, however, was crumbling. One of the pillars holding up the roof was destroyed, so the roof was lopsided. The shimenawa knots were cut in half, the ends completely frayed. Definitely not a good sign.

After crossing the torii , you felt the Special Grade’s presence. It was overwhelming, unlike anything else you had experienced before. It possessed near-equal amounts of cursed energy as Satoru, but unlike your boyfriend, it held malicious intent within its cursed energy. To your left, Sumi was shaking. You held out a shaky hand onto her shoulder and squeezed. While you yourself didn’t feel confident about this mission now, you had a duty as the oldest member of the group here to be strong, for their sake.

The shrine began to shake, then the roof was suddenly blown off. You used your cursed technique to form a barrier of tree roots that erupted from the ground. Slabs of wood hit the roots, then bounced off. After the rain of wood subsided, you controlled the roots back into the ground in their original position.

You finally got a good look at the Special Grade curse. It was humanoid, but only in form. Its flesh was midnight blue, with eyes covering every centimeter of its body. Great, it had no blind spots. The curse had no apparent mouth, yet you were able to hear it let out an intimidating roar.

Daisuke made the first strike. He quickly pointed a handgun at the Special Grade and pulled the trigger. Out came a burst of his own cursed energy instead of a bullet. The blow just grazed the Special Grade enough for it to let out a screech of pain. Interesting, so this was his cursed energy. You wondered if it was limited to guns, or if he could apply it to a bow as well and use his cursed energy for arrows. You’d have to ask him later after this mission was completed.

It was apparent after Daisuke revealed his cursed technique that all of you were primarily distance fighters. There wasn’t much Sumi could do if her cursed technique focused on spells through her wand apparatus and Daisuke seemed to only have a gun on him. So, that meant you had to switch to a melee approach.

You weren’t the biggest fan of hand to hand combat. You weren’t very strong, preferring to assist from a distance. Recently, Satoru has been helping you learn new ways of fighting in close quarters. You decided to take the risk and make an attempt at using this still relatively new technique. You reached out your hands, summoning leaves from the trees. They surrounded your fists like boxing gloves, your cursed energy reinforcing the leaves to be almost as hard as the bark from the trees they came from.

You sprinted toward the Special Grade, preparing to land a blow. As you reared back for a punch, the Special Grade disappeared from in front of you. Then you felt a blow land on your back and you were sent through the forest until a particularly thick tree stopped your projectile body. Luckily, you reacted quickly enough to reinforce your front with cursed energy. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking, you probably would’ve been knocked out immediately.

You picked yourself up from the ground, but the world was spinning. You leaned against a tree to collect your thoughts and rest a bit. The Special Grade was insanely fast and had no blind spots. You were panicking; this was well out of your skillset. Perhaps Daisuke was right; Satoru should’ve joined in on this mission. But you knew that wasn’t possible, as he also had his own Special Grade mission to handle today.

You brought a hand up to your face and gave yourself a hard smack. This was no time to doubt yourself or panic. You had two comrades out there fighting a Special Grade curse alone. There was no doubt that the Special Grade would notice you if you tried to rejoin the fight, at least on the ground. Your best bet would be to get the high ground; there would be fewer eyes on the top half, so the chances of you being noticed would be less than if you arrived by foot.

Okay, you had an idea. Now, to get an idea of how the fight was going. You kneeled down to the ground and placed your hand onto the ground, closing your eyes. You sent a minimal, hardly detectable pulse of cursed energy toward the fight through the ground. From what nature informed you, the fight was mostly one-sided in favor of the Special Grade. Daisuke was pretty beat up, and Sumi wasn’t in good shape either.

You got up then hurriedly began climbing the nearest tree. As you climbed up, you manipulated the bark to form grooves for you to place your hands and feet on. As you reached a decent height, you created a bridge with the overlapping tree branches sturdy enough for your weight. You sprinted across the bridge, ignoring your double vision. You definitely had a concussion, but now was not the time for you to worry about that. You didn’t wanna lose your comrades on this mission. Not again.

You wiped the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes. In your final year of Tokyo High, your two classmates were killed right before your eyes on a mission. You escaped out of pure luck, but was determined to get stronger to avenge their deaths. If you let those two die… well, then, that meant you hadn’t gotten strong enough to protect anyone else.

Once you were just out of sight range of the cursed spirit, you closed your eyes to sense the battle again. Sumi was sitting on the ground, back to a tree as she watched the fight between Daisuke and the Special Grade. She was barely conscious, and it seemed like she had lost a lot of blood. You had an idea, but in order for it to work, you needed her help.

Using thin vines, you sent a message within her sight: I am still alive. I’m going to trap the Special Grade curse with branches. Use a fire spell on it when it’s bound.

All you could hope was that she was able to read the message and had enough cursed energy to cast the spell. You began moving branches from distant trees close to the Special Grade, as fast as possible without your cursed energy being detected. Once they were close enough, you waited for the right moment.

As Daisuke finally landed a hit with his cursed energy, moving the curse to the center of the shrine remnants, you launched your attack. The branches extended as fast as you could make them move. The hit Daisuke landed had temporarily slowed the Special Grade, enough for your branches to immobilize it. As the branches gripped the curse, Sumi sent a fire spell toward it, just as planned.

The branches (and the cursed spirit) caught on fire. But something was wrong; normally, you could extract cursed energy from a curse with your cursed technique to exorcise, but that wasn’t happening. Was it resisting? You felt a tug on the branches.

Without thinking, you acted on your own. You re-equipped the leaves cursed technique, as you jumped from the trees above. As gravity brought you closer to the Special Grade, you reared back to prepare the punch you had wanted to introduce it to earlier. As your fist landed on the curse, you allowed the leaves to leave your fist, sending it into the curse’s body. The leaves caught on fire before they entered the curse, imploding it.

So, you managed to exorcise the Special grade. But, doing so took all of your cursed energy and you had no more left to cushion your fall. Luckily, you managed to adjust your fall so that you slid on your stomach parallel to the ground instead of falling headfirst. It still hurt, and you definitely broke a few ribs doing that.

You somehow had enough energy to turn yourself onto your back, looking up at the starry night sky as the curtain was released. Your first Special Grade mission. Everyone lived and you exorcised it without Satoru’s help. Ha. He would be so proud of you.

You began to fall into unconsciousness right as you felt familiar arms lift you up.

When you woke up, you were in Shoko’s infirmary. There was a thin blanket covering your bottom half. Suddenly the events came back to you.

You sat up, gasping for air. Where were Sumi and Daisuke?

“You might want to lay back down,” a familiar voice told you. “Shoko healed you, but the pain might still be there.”

You did as the voice said, laying back at the elevated position you woke up in. You look over and blinked a few times, seeing your boyfriend sitting in a chair next to your bed. He was in his work uniform, including his blindfold. You winced as you felt a pain in your chest; Satoru was right, there still was residual pain.

“I exorcised a Special Grade,” you croaked.

“I know. I’m proud of you.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, giving you a soft smile, showing off his tiny dimples. His smile quickly turned to a frown as he lectured, “However, what you did was risky and crazy.”

“Aren’t you the one who says that jujutsu sorcerers have to be crazy to survive?” you argued.

“Yes, but there’s a difference between crazy and throwing your life away.”

“You saw that?” you asked, much more awake than you were a few seconds ago.

“I hurried as fast as I could with my own mission to come assist you if you needed. I got there right as you pulled that stunt of yours.”

You pulled your hand from his and placed your face in both of your hands, embarrassed that he saw you launch yourself from several meters high, use up all of your cursed energy, then make a hard landing onto the ground.

“How’s the other two?” you asked, refusing to move your face from your hands.

“Alive and doing well. You’re the most beat-up out of everyone.”

You removed your hands, clasping them together in your lap. “Thank goodness…”

“There wasn’t a Sukuna finger either,” Satoru reported to you. “The villagers’ fear of the shrine must have caused it to grow to a Special Grade. Now, come on. Shoko said you could come home once you woke up.” Satoru stood up, then scooped you up from the bed. You screamed in protest, now wide awake.

“Wha--Put me down!”

“No can do, honey. Doctor’s orders. Nothing strenuous for the next week.”

“Satoru, I don’t think walking counts as strenuous!”

He smiled his signature shit-eating grin, then gave you a kiss on your forehead. No fair, he knew forehead kisses were your weakness. You melted into his arms at how tender his kiss was, now docile and less likely to argue with him.

In a flash, he teleported the two of you to his apartment, setting you on the bed in front of him. After placing you on the bed, he yanked off his blindfold and began rummaging through his dresser, looking for a set of his clothes for you to wear. He tossed the shirt and pants toward you, not even bothering to turn around while you changed. You’d been together for so long (or at least, it felt like a long time) that there wasn’t anything particularly embarrassing about changing in front of each other.

You winced while lifting your hands up to take off your shirt, so Satoru was by your side in an instant, helping you take off your shift without much pain. He even helped you out of your bra and put on his shirt.

“You don’t need me to help you with the pants, do you?” he teased.

“I think I can handle it on my own,” you replied, standing up and shuffling out of your pants. Satoru’s pants were much too long for you, so you had to roll not only the waistband but also the cuffs so that they didn’t constantly drag on the ground. Not like you minded doing that; there was just something about his clothes that was infinitely more comforting than your own, and he knew that more than anyone else.

As you adjusted the pants, Satoru left the bedroom to head toward the kitchen, no doubt to start cooking some of your favorite foods. You laid down on your shared bed, happy to be home. It was a long day (Days? How long were you even unconscious?) and you were glad to have such a caring boyfriend, even if he was being a little annoying about this.

About an hour later, Satoru came into the bedroom with a tray of food. He wouldn’t let you even touch the chopsticks, insisting on feeding you food because he didn’t want you to “strain yourself.” You thought he was just being a little too overprotective, but you allowed him to feed you anyway. The look of satisfaction on his face was just too cute for you to deny him this tiny pleasure.

After dinner, you immediately wanted to go to bed. Satoru quickly ate his portion of dinner then changed out of his work clothes into something much more comfortable to sleep in. He joined you under the covers, using his cursed energy to turn off the lights. You felt his arms gently snake their way around your waist, pressing you into his front. You sighed in contentment; he was warm, but not too warm.

After a few seconds of silence, you piped up, “Satoru?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for taking care of me. I love you.”

He placed a gentle kiss on your neck, just behind your ear. “Anything for you, my love,” he breathed onto your neck. You could feel him smiling gently. “Maybe we should just get married.”

You grumbled something, not even quite sure what you said or even what he said completely. Before sleep overtook you, you mumbled out one last final “I love you,” incredibly happy to be in your boyfriend’s arms at the moment.

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Hello, Hello, would you mind to write a scenario for Levi Ackerman with a female s/o were they have a argument and Levi accidently hurts her physical in some way?

Thank you very much and please be careful 💚

Okay, hello, I have been working on this for a HOT minute and this is the only way I thought this could go (because Levs would never ever ever ever hurt his s/o, poor man has seen his mother being violated so much too pls-) tell me if you like it, I'd be glad to know if you're satisfied with how it went.

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: Action, Somewhat!Fluff,

Warnings: Mentions of blood, gunshots, wounds you know, typical snk stuff

Bullet

Crimson liquid run in gushes from the wound in your shoulder splattering your whole body and your surroundings. The pain was immense and torturous and reeked of the adrenaline that your body was trying to produce, all on vain to soothe the uneasiness, as with every passing second the hot rushes of blood that flew to the spot put your mind in a burgundy haze. Your left hand was trembling, your body was still in shock by the hit and your necessary intakes of oxygen had long surpassed the normal rate by now but you weren't in a position to slow down.

The odds had been against you ever since you decided to follow Levi and not lead the infamous cadets of the 104th squadron.

It was the silent clicking of a gun that had caught your attention as you discussed how much of an ambush this whole situation seemed with Nifa and Levi. You almost perked at the spot, a fragment of a second faster than Levi, buying yourself enough time to jump into the most unthinkable situation; getting Levi out of this commotion safe and unwounded, you'd take the incoming shot for the stoic captain to stay alive.

The bullet had blown just through your shoulder with enough force to send you flying to the ground, meters away from the hotspot of action. As you heard Levi's voice screaming an earth shattering call of Kenny Ackerman's name you pushed through the pain that has shaken your body to the core and shot your drills to the nearest building. Your heart was beating fast, eyes rapidly checking in all directions to examine your surroundings while the pulsating of your shoulder begged with you to take action on it's recovery.

Only ever when you made sure your surroundings were clear of armed soldiers did your feet drag you outside the dark alleyway. Pushing through the intense pain you managed to shoot the drills of your gear onto a empty rooftop, trying your best to evenly distribute your weight on the equipment. One mistake and you could easily be wiped out.

Therefore you settled for sneaking carefully in between dark alleys as gunshot sounds ravaged your eardrums; It was definitely Levi who was taking all that fire on his own, sending your heart to an uncatchable pace as the blood that pulsated in every inch of your body would manage to find an exit through the wound on your shoulder.

As the blasts kept getting unbearably closer by each passing second you glued yourself to the stone wall and ducked down, to protect any part of you in order to see for yourself if Levi was indeed the target of this manhunt.

Your speculations were correct.

Upon him passing by -incredibly fast- your eyes met his for a brief moment, forcing a shocked hitch to leave his lips as his eyes widened. His expression, dark, anxious, as if he had just seen a ghost and refused to believe it.

The state of your well being was still unbeknownst to you; you hadn't even taken a chance to see how drenched in blood your clothes were.

With another fast shoot of your quills and a press to your gas' handle you landed on another rooftop, far behind from the horde of men that had all their attention on Levi.

Everything went quiet for a moment. Sheer tranquility masked the air. The fire of action seemed to have been out off momentarily, yet you don't have an eye sight of the situation. You couldn't seem to slow down your breathing not even for one second, your alert eyes repeatedly scanned the areas around you to detect any suspicious move.

Despite the unfair odds and your position you had managed to successfully locate the cart with Eren and Historia, only to come face to face with the commotion that had occured. Hange's men were taken one by one, this time in your comrade's place sat a wide eyed brunette who screamed at the horses to go faster.

The sound of shooting thundered in waves around the town, startling you, urging you to jump into action. The wagon couldn't by any means, slip away from you or your team.

You tapped against your right gas canulle, begging for the sound to signal that it was halfway full at least. The left one was busted from your previous impact against the cold stone buildings, still you were sure you could push through with as much as you had, even if it seemed deadly enough to get you killed.

The cadets were startled as the saw you as they proceeded to bombard you with questions about your condition to which you could barely reply with full sentences. Slowly your body was giving in to your injury, to a point where you couldn't ignore it. Still, you bothered with how much more you could take.

"The hell is that!" Jean inquired, eyes pacing between the gory scene unraveling before him, and you, still troubling himself with taking in what he was witnessing.

Levi flew hurriedly flew by, pumping his gas one before launching his drill to an armed man's abdomen. His face hardened as the men was dragged to him, hands already gripping his blades steadily.

He went straight for the kill. Blood cluttered everywhere around him, staining any nearby surface.

Everyone's faces went numb as frozen droplets of sweat run down their foreheads. Naturally, in your shocked state you failed to provide any comfort to them, even if their despairate eyes were begging you to.

"Follow the wagon!" Levi commanded, his breath hitching in his throat as he sat still, despairate to take a momentarily rest.

"Right!" Mikasa complied sternly.

"Listen up, these soldiers were trained to fight other people, they've already take up three of ours," restlessly, Levi flew to lead the team, launching himself alongside of you, but still not sparing you a glance. "If you hesitate for so much as a second you'll be dead. The moment you see an opening go for the kill!"

"Yes sir!" Once again the ravenette in a stone cold tone confirmed her Captain's orders were well understood, forcing a gulp to flow down everyone's throat.

"And you, (y/n)!" This time his eyes were intensely burning dark holes in yours. "You stay back and lay low, this is an order!" You watched as he gulped, taking a moment to breathe through his nose in an attempt to calm himself down. "And don't ever think about taking a bullet for me, ever again."

Despite the gallons of blood lost and the tremendous pain you managed to find the spitfire in you to reply, eyes wide with rage at his last comment.

"Sir, with all due respect, I'm fine with laying low, but-"

"No time for you to form your own rebellion over my words, lay low or you're getting killed. You've made yourself the easiest target!" His words dripped of poison, unnerving anger that did nothing to convey his worry, making your head blur with similar rage.

You refused to believe that the first thing he would try to converse with you on the subject would actually turn out to be a scolding session. As if you were an imbecile child. As if you hadn't tried to push through to keep offering your abilities to your cause.

"Kenny would have shot you right then and there! What did you expect me to do?" You screamed. Your lungs burned with every command to withstand the pressure. Hot blood found its way through the hole in your arm again.

"No he wouldn't. We don't have time for this, Lay low!"

Levi's tone was sharp as a knife slicing your flesh like soft butter, somewhat hurting you more that the small piece of metal in your body. "You can't handle yourself like I can at the moment." It was rare they the two of you would bicker like this, and there was so much you could handle with an oozing wound, barking at him seemed to be the way to get your point at him.

"You're unbelievable," you squealed "I just saved your life and you're downgrading me?"

"Don't put words in my mouth, you know what I mean."

"Oh, do I now?" You mocked.

"No one else dies on my watch and you can't fight, so out of our way!"

Levi launched himself into a tent, backflipping his way through another kill. You hated to admit that he was right; you couldn't even make it to a few kills with the remaining of your gas yet the adrenaline in your body was raging against every plead of you to stay behind.

"You can't keep me out of action!" You barked, eyes glimmering with stubbornness as you followed the team's lead to the wagon. Jean was the first to land with Armin, throwing the brunette soldier way from her spot. You didn't seem to pay enough attention to your surroundings, the clicking of a gun behind you fell deaf to your ears.

"I told you (y/n) we don't have tim- watch out!" Levi's eyes widened in terror at the sight of the armed man towering behind you. Shaking hands that still held his blades reached out fast, boldly enough to launch onto the collar of your shirt, bringing your form onto him, only for your nose to harshly collide with the steel handle of his blade in the process. In turn you were thrown harshly onto a nearby tent.

A moment later his blades had slashed through the man while a rage filled scream muffled your ears.

"Armin Secure the wagon with Jean! We'll keep you covered!"

At trying to catch up in the commotion on the wagon, he witnessed in agony as Jean gulped, a gun nearly pressed to his head. Mikasa called out his name, launching her blades and spinning in the air. If it wasn't for Armin to ruthlessly pull the trigger to send the brunette to her instant death, she would have been too late to save her comrade. Levi clicked his tongue in misery. This was getting worse by each passing second.

"Armin! Jean!"

You laid on the tent, left hand scrunched against your bloody nose as you tried not to move. There were still armed men everywhere, if they detected you were alive you were done for. With half lid eyes you watched the scene unfold in front of you.

Three more men had towered behind Levi and the cadets, pointing their guns on them. Levi and Sasha jumped to the scene, shoving their comrades out of the wagon. The had successfully missed the fire of the shots for short seconds. As a sigh of relief left you your right eye lost focus. Your head felt dizzy, heavy at the numbing pain that shoot from your whole body. As the effects of adrenaline slowly wore off your body started to give in, eyes battling an already lost fight to stay open.

The last thing you heard was Levi calling out your name.

__

Your eyes painfully shot open.

The top of your mouth felt dry. You couldn't swallow. A strong metallic taste adorned the tips of your tongue. In a panicked state your eyes were blinking rapidly at the darkness around you, alternating gazes between the group of people a few meters away from you and the flickering light of the fire.

In contrary to your body, your head felt feathery light as numbness toyed on your brain, taking forms of a thousand little ants stomping each cavity they could find.

"Ah, Captain she's awake!"

Your body couldn't move and your mind couldn't think, yet Connie's words rang a few bells that alerted you. After what seemed like an eon later, a flick switched in your brain, widening your eyes upon hitting you with the most profane realisation.

"It's probably the morphine shot that has you numb like this. I took care of that bullet in your arm and I fixed your nose."

Your eyes bored into Levi's steel ones, unintentional apathy splattered all your face. You couldn't help but stop your bruised lips from forming to a small pout; as your coincidence flowed withing your body with every passing of the time you were reminded of the heated exchange of words you and your lover had shared before your body gave in.

Levi's eyes softened as he watched your face fall into an angered expression. A sigh of relief escaped him as his hand extended to your direction, calloused fingers lingering on the thin locks on your forehead.

"Shit" he groaned through gritted teeth "Fuck, I'm so sorry (y/n), you know I didn't mean to break your nose right? Given the situation I knew you'd land safely on the tent, I just had to get you out of there"

His eyes were sincere, flickering with agony as his hand rested behind your ear. The look on his face was enough to make you melt, to give in to whatever he ever said, you couldn't deny that much.

"I know how devoted you are, you could have taken that bullet for anyone not just for me, that's who you are." Another sigh escaped him, this time sneaking profoundly out his trembling chest.

"Y-you don't have to s-struggle with your-r words. You were right-t. I shouldn't have pushed my self with such little gas while losing so much blood." You coughed. Essential sentences were spilling out of your mouth. You knew when to step back into your place, especially in arguments that you were on the wrong. Levi had been right from the beginning, but you had pushed forward, worked yourself to the limit.

"Tch, I would never intentionally hurt you, you know that much right? I didn't mean to cause you more pain-"

"Levi, my love," As you laid on your back you watched the fire in his eyes cool down at sound of the endearing pet name. His chest stopped taking sharp stressed breaths and his hand started rubbing soothing circles at the nape of your neck. "You don't have to apologise, please. I was on the wrong. If anything, you saved me from being fatally shot. You shoved Jean away as well."

Levi's antics were nothing strange to you. You had spent years by his side, training as a part of his team, fighting alongside him. The way he cared for his comrades was unmatched, unable to be mimicked. You knew of his tragic past, so him acting compulsively like that wasn't something you wouldn't have expected. You weren't mad that you had gotten hurt in the process of him ripping you away from deaths grip.

The only thing that had ever made you mad was that, momentarily he wasn't willing to approve of your sacrifice to him.

"I threw you like shack of shit, I don't deserve you going soft on me. I should have not downgraded you."

Your eyes shut, lips curling upwards onto a tiny smirk, one that lifted Levi's spirits just a bit. "I'll stop being so hotheaded." You managed to admit, letting a chuckle escape your lips. Rarely you could stop yourself from giggling when you'd make up with the man.

"Brat! Don't laugh when we're having a serious conversation!" His eyes hardened, voice full of affectionate authority. You were so eager to brush off the subject of him guilt tripping himself, to lift the weight off his shoulders.

The weak bubbling laughter that escaped you after was contagious and never ending. It felt as little, continuous jolts of static electricity shocking your body as each exhale, but it was unstoppable, not even for you to answer properly back to him. The effect of the tranquilizing shot was perfect on it's part as well.

"I-it's just that i- love you. That's all. You've always got a spot on poo comment about everything."

Levi's head lowered in defeat, his nose leaving out an amused whip of air in the process. As you watched him, you felt a familiar warmth numb its way through your body from your stomach and outwards. Perhaps, this time he didn't want you to assume what he would say. Perhaps he was still guilt tripping himself or perhaps your laughter was getting through him at a moment he had to be stern. Nevertheless you never missed the words that felt his lips, before he went to quickly brush then against yours.

"I won't be as hotheaded as well, I promise. I'd take a thousand bullets for you I hope you know that."