#you know who ELSE could do a muscle man voice? MY MOM

[maxbytes]

wish i could do a Muscle Man voice. it's so iconic.

[shanastoryteller]

Dean’s minding his own business, sipping on a beer and leering at the bartender, when a guy that admittedly has about four inches and a good twenty pounds of muscle on him storms over and shoves him in the arm.

He tenses, getting to his feet and preparing for a fight even as he’s wondering what he did to piss him off. Maybe the bartender’s his girl? Jesus, Dean was just looking, he can’t get mad at just looking when his girl look likes that.

“Dude, what the hell?” the guy demands. “I know you’re pissed at me right now, but just leaving me back there – do you know how many bars it took to find you? You’re a jackass.”

He’s not taking a swing, instead standing with crossed arms – fuck, this guy is huge, he’d really like to avoid a fight here – and scowling at him, his long hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at him. Dean wishes he had any idea what was going on right now. “Look, man, relax.” The guy’s eyes narrow, his shoulders lifting and expanding as he takes in a deep breath, as if he needs any help to look bigger. Before he can say anything, Dean adds, “I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Fuck off.” He presses his lips together, somehow appearing smaller in the next moment without actually moving. “Look, I know you’re mad about heaven, you’ve made that pretty fucking clear, but you can’t just walk off and turn off your phone. I figured you were just being an ass, but something could have happened to you. If you’re ignoring me, at least let me know you’re ignoring me.”

The guy doesn’t look like he’s tweaking, or suffering some sort of head injury. His eyes are clear and his voice is steady. But Dean has no idea what he’s talking about. “Dude, you’ve really got me confused with someone else.”

“Dean!” he snaps, which woah, okay, he wasn’t expecting that. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” he says. “How do you know my name?”

He stares at him, uncertainty entering his eyes for the first time. “Are you feeling okay? You didn’t come across Zachariah or a witch or something in the past couple hours?”

He doesn’t know who Zachariah is, but the casual mention of witches makes him frown. Is this guy a hunter or something? He figures he’d remember meeting him, but maybe not.

“Everything okay over here?” Dad’s hand lands heavily on his shoulder, and Dean shifts enough to see him giving the guy a hard stare that has sent more than one man running in the other direction.

Dean almost rolls his eyes – he’s thirty one years old, he doesn’t need his dad coming over to save him – but he makes the effort so rarely that Dean can’t help but be warmed by it.

The guy pales, mouth dropping open as he stares at Dad like he’s seen a ghost. “You – Christo.”

Okay, definitely a hunter. Dad raises an eyebrow. “I’m not a demon.”

The guy grabs for Dean, yanking on his hand. Dean jerks back, but he’s already gotten his long fingers around his ring. He pulls it off and Dean is about to break his jaw to get it back, but he tosses it to Dad, who catches it on instinct. Dean doesn’t get it until he does. His ring is silver. He’s checking if Dad is a shifter, which okay, that’s one thing. Dean’s more concerned about how he knows his ring is silver. The guy’s voice cracks when he says, “Dad?”

Dad raises an eyebrow. “I think you’re a little confused.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” he asks, grabbing onto the sleeve of his jacket. Dean should push him off. “What,” his gaze drops down, and if possible he goes even paler. “Oh. Oh, fuck.”

Dean looks down, sees the guy’s eyes stuck on his amulet. “What?”

“I don’t understand,” he says, biting on his lower lip. “Is this some sort of – but you’re still hunters. Is Mom alive?”

Dean flinches.

“Okay,” Dad says. “That’s enough. You walk this off or whatever, but you do it somewhere else–”

“Dad, it’s me,” he says plaintively. “It’s Sam. Your son.”

Dean doesn’t remember moving, only that the next moment his hands are fisted in the front of this asshole’s shirt, his blood thrumming under his skin. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

He puts his hands on Dean’s wrists, stupid earnest and soft and Dean’s going to kick his ass. “Dean. It’s me. I have to exist in this world, right? The demon was after me, if I wasn’t here then there wouldn’t have ben a fire, Mom wouldn’t have died, you guys wouldn’t be hunters. I have to be around somewhere.”

Dean tries to shove him away, but he won’t let go of his hands. “Shut up! You don’t – don’t talk about my family.”

The worst thing he ever did, his biggest failure. Sometimes the weight of it gets to be so heavy that it feels like it should be cracking his ribs, pressing his heart until it bursts. Sometimes he wishes it would.

He swallows before letting go with one hand and reaching into his pocket to pull something out. It takes Dean a moment to see it’s his amulet, the one he’s worn since he was twelve years old, back when Bobby still talked to them. “My name is Samuel Winchester. I was named after my mother’s father. I was born on May 2, 1983. When I was eight years old, Bobby gave me this amulet. He said it was a protection charm. I was originally planning to give it to Dad for Christmas, but he didn’t show up. Another in a long line of disappointments, right? So I gave it to you instead. Because even when you’re being a jerk, you’ve never let me down.”

Dean’s eyes are burning. He tries to shake off his grip, but he won’t let go. Why is Dad just standing there? “Stop! Stop. I don’t know what game you’re playing–”

“No game,” he says, gentle voice a counterpoint to the grip that’s absolutely going to bruise. “I need you to believe me, Dean, please–”

“My brother died when he was six months old,” he cuts him off. “Samuel Winchester is dead. He’s been dead for twenty six years.”

His fault, his fault, all his fault. If he’d just listened to Dad –

“Not where I’m from,” he says, and it’s crazy, it’s all crazy. “Please. Ask me anything. I’ll prove it. Hell, let’s go to a clinic, we can take a DNA test. I’m Sam. I’m your brother. And I need your help.”

“You mentioned a demon,” Dad says quietly.

The guy, who’s not Sam, who can’t be Sam, tears his eyes away from Dean to look at Dad. “Yeah. Azazel. The yellow eyed demon.”

Dad rubs a hand over his mouth. “I never told anyone about that.”

Dean snaps his head towards Dad. “What? You said you didn’t know what killed Mom! That we were searching for it!”

“We are,” Dad says. “It never resurfaced again. I’ve been looking for the signs.”

The guy frowns. “He started up again when I was twenty two.”

“Not here,” Dad says, looking him up and down, something hungry in his eyes.

Dad believes him. Dad thinks that this is Sammy.

“Let’s discuss this back at the room,” Dad says. “Come on.”

He heads towards the door, sure that he’s going to be followed. The – Sam, maybe Sam, he rolls his eyes, but goes after him. He only stops when his grip on Dean’s wrist jerks him back, because Dean’s not moving, can’t make himself move. He flushes, letting go of Dean finally, but he takes a step closer. His eyebrows pull together in concern, and now that Dean’s looking, he sort of sees it, sees the planes of Dad’s face and his eyes in this stranger with his brother’s name. “Hey, are you okay?”

No.

“Let’s go,” he says, striding forward, shoulders hunched.

Sam falls into step beside him easily, matching his strides like it’s second nature. Dean swallows around the lump in his throat and tries to pretend it means nothing.

[sunny-milla]

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

child! shigaraki tomura x mom! reader

In an alternate universe, a kindergarten teacher meets a feeble boy looking for a home and held out a helping hand before the heroes could do so. This is a two part one-shot, so is it called two shots? Man idk.

pt.1

italics refer to Tenko’s future self

Tenko. His name echoed in his own head, a visage of his sister crumbling plays out like a broken film. A sudden itch on his neck for the fifth time in the minute, pieces of his skin stuck under his untrimmed nails. ‘Someone please help me.’ He couldn’t drag the words from the back of his throat, they came out as a pitiful croak paired with a loud sniffle. He closed his eyes, wandering aimlessly, maybe the middle of the busy road would be a good destination

One step. Two steps. Three steps. He can hear the cars, speeding past him. Digging his fingers onto his dainty palm, he’s ready, ready to die. It’ll be fine now. He can atone for his sins, everything will be fine now. One step into the black tarmac, another one, awaiting for an impact. However, a soft palm came across his arm, pulling him away from his despair. “Hey kid, are you alright? What’s your name?” In front of him was a woman, the sun shone on her face, a soft smile that melted away his gloom.

“Tenko.” His hands bloodied. “I killed them. I didn’t mean to. I swear.” Continous breaks in his words, his croaked voice a dead giveaway of his stammering composure. Not even a second later, crystalline tears formed in his eyes, waterworks spilling out like a broken fire hydrant.

She crouched down in front of him, wiping away the blood on his hand, the back of his hand on top pf her palm. He removed his hand defensively, almost by instinct, he didn’t want to hurt anyone else. “Don’t worry, I’m not easily hurt!” She raised her arm, flexing her non-existent muscle. In that very moment, Tenko was sure that this woman was the warm sunshine in the cold winter, the sunshine everyone looked forward to in the spring. Yes. He was sure of it. This woman was his hero.

She stood up and offered her hand, he wanted to hold it, he really did but he retracted his hand in fright for her safety. It must be because his quirk’s activation is through his hands. “Would you grab onto my bag then? We wouldn’t want you lost now.” A white leathered crossbody bag with golden chain and a small keychain— a cute little All Might keychain, a keepsake from an old friend. He latched onto her bag with only two of his fingers touching, he followed her, his trust on her palms.

Then, they arrived in front of a small clinic which resembled a traditional Japanese home more than anything. Tenko talked with the doctor who was a middle aged woman who gave him a lollipop after his checkup. Meanwhile, Y/n was outside on the call with cops talking about the boy she just found. He was easily traced back to the Shimura residence in which the police quickly dispatched some officers to assess the situation.

The doctor then quickly explained to her what was his quirk and its activation requirements after a few tests. She wrapped a bandage around his pinkies to prevent his quirk from activating. “Tenko let’s go shopping!” She carried him, his bottom resting on her arm. Tenko remained quiet, he didn’t know how to respond to this bright light. Shall he blink his eyes and hide from it? Or shall he admire it and accept its warmth? He had no choice but to take that captivating warmth.

Firstly, she took him to the kids clothing section. She bought him necessities, a few pair of pants, and a couple shirts, of course some onesies too! She knew that he wasn’t in the mood for dress up but took notice of which clothes seemed to cause a crease in the skin between his brows and which ones widened his eyes.

Off to the shoes section! “May I have red shoes please?” He looks at the vibrant crimson shoes, which happened to be the most expensive and popular in the section. His eyes suddenly looked towards the price tag, “Nevermind!” He quickly said, he didn’t want to be a burden or seem picky.

Y/n was quick to pick up where his eyes went and knew that he was probably worried about the price, it was a mature thing to think of but she didn’t want him to be like that. Children should act spoilt as much as they can. “What a nice eye you have Tenko! Is there anything else you want?” He shook his head. To be honest, Tenko wanted everything but he was satisfied with that. As long as this nice lady was with her, he’ll be satisfied. “These shoes aren’t great for running, let’s grab you one more pair.” Tenko’s eyes widened, he felt like a child with a mom who loved spoiling him.

“That one please.” He pointed at a white pair of running shoes which lit up when it was to be stomped. She puts on the shoe trying out if it was his size. He was too shy to say that it wasn’t his size and it seemed to deplete most of his energy when he did. “I don’t think it’s my size.” He released a deep breath after she took her attention to the saleswoman and asked for a smaller size.

“A kid also needs boots for rainy days, am I right?” She looked at Tenko and smiled. Tenko was amazed, no one has ever smiled at him consecutively, his amazement nearly brought him to his tears but he bit back his sobs and enjoyed the fleeting moment.

Y/n was carrying the shopping bags while holding Tenko’s hand. “Say Tenko, what kind of toys do you want?”

“Um…” He didn’t know. He had a lot in mind. He wanted a lot. “Please pick for me.” Y/n formed a faux disappointed pout. She picked up an All Might plushie which was a trend amongst her students, “This one?” She quickly picked up on his dismay. “How about this?” She picked up a dinosaur plushie instead in which received a delightful nod from Tenko. My mom is the kindest person in the world.

He looked at a car toy, but it wasn’t just any car toy. It was a car toy that does need batteries to move, it just needed to dragged onto the floor to create friction and stores kinetic energy. When released, the car’s kinetic energy is used up and releases thermal energy as waste and finally moves at a high speed. It was those kind of toy cars kids bragged about in the playground. “The toy car too please!” He accidentally yelped out, he didn’t mean to be so selfish, it just slipped out accidentally.

My mom kinda spoilt me and I grew out to be a little stubborn.

She picked up lots of things as well, toys for educational learning and some reading books for his bedtime stories. “Tenko should we go home now?” What an odd word for him, wasn’t his home the one he destroyed? If so, he didn’t want to go back. “My apartment’s a 30 minute drive from here, I think we have to hail a cab. Man ain’t that annoying, Tenko?” She looked down at him and watched him nod in agreement. She wanted to have a small conversation with him, to slowly distracting from his misery but it seemed that he was rather a little empty instead. Tenko chose to avoid it.

She’s also the most talkative, she also gets along well with my girlfriend and sometimes I forget that I’m her child. I bet that they’re making fun of me right now.

The drive back home was quiet, Tenko sat beside her and his head leaning on her arm, his eyes fluttering and threatening to close itself. He didn’t want to go to sleep, he’ll see them again. He didn’t want that, but with one small caress of her hand on his head, he drifted to wonderland.

When they arrived in front of her apartment, Y/n carried Tenko into the apartment first, placing him onto the couch and picked up the shopping bags. She decided to tap him lightly, after debating if she should bathe him or prepare dinner first. “Tenko, lovely, let’s go bathe you.” Tenko nodded while rubbing his eye.

She made sure the water was not too warm nor too cold, that the pressure of the water was not too strong especially because his skin was sensitive. “Close your eyes.” Tenko shut them firmly, he hated getting shampoo in his eyes, it was too painful. She massaged the shampoo on his scalp with soft touches. Although she was a teacher, she didn’t truly know how gentle she should be when it comes to bathing them.

Next, she lathered an oatmeal bar soap on his skin as recommended by the doctor. She was warned not to use anything with scented chemicals and made sure that everything was natural. After rinsing him with water, she took a fresh towel and patted his body dry before wrapping his body with it. “Thank you.” He muttered softly, he fiddled with his fingers and shied away from her gaze. She could only smile softly and ruffle his head, that must have taken all of his courage.

After dressing him up, she decided to go prepare dinner whilst Tenko played with the new toys and watch the TV. It turns out that he really liked Pingu, encapsulated by the small penguin who spoke an odd language.

Once dinner was prepared, Tenko was called into the kitchen. He had a special chair, three pillows stacked on top of each other so that he could reach the tall table. “Thank you for the food.” Y/n and Tenko said in unison however his voice was meek and barely audible. She had cooked popular dish popular amongst the population, katsu curry and served with the steaming white rice. That night, it became his favourite dish.

The night loomed over the sky, the moon casting its glow on every single house. “Good night, Tenko.” She tucked him into bed, leaving the night light on per his request. Tenko hated the dark. There were monsters in the dark.

“Will you please sing me a bedtime song?” Y/n felt tingly sensations all over her body, was this what her mother felt when she was kid?

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You'll never know, dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

My sunshine away

By the end of the song, his eyes were shut close, he had a firm grip around his dinosaur stuffy, she watched his chest rise up and down leaving her heart at rest. Y/n never dreamt of being a mother, the pregnancy thing threw her off, she never dealt well with pain ever since she was a kid. However, this feeling satisfaction and an overwhelming feeling of warmness surged like a tsunami.

The next day, Tenko woke up to the aromatic scent of pancakes with the strong coffee bean roast he was quite familiar with. “Good morning Tenko! Have you brushed your teeth?”

She chirped like a bird even though it was so early in the morning, she was boisterous, her arms blustered around so much I thought she’d fly away. At that moment, I realised that I wanted to stay with her.

“Yes.” A weak response.

I hated loud voices, but I looked forward to mom’s everyday. One time I came back late from the arcade because I was hanging out with Touya and Hawks and she yelled at me. I never really understood it back then but she just cared for me. I guess I was a bit of a troubled kid.

“Do you like strawberries on your pancakes Tenko?” I never liked strawberries nor pancakes, I had no interest in anything but mom gave me something to love.

Pancakes, strawberries, dinosaurs, games, picnics. She gave me more than a home, she gave me gave me a place to be a child. When she had to take me to the orphanage, it seemed to break her heart more than it did to mine. I had only known her for two weeks but it felt like she was the one who gave birth to me.

“Tenko, I’ll visit you everyday. Just wait for me, m’kay?” Tenko didn’t want her to leave he wanted to hold her sleeves but he couldn’t. He didn’t want her to turn like his family. She took off the All Might keychain off her bag, “This is my lucky charm, this is veryyy precious to me. So when I’m not here, this lil guy will watch you for me.” She couldn’t help but develop maternal feelings, it wasn’t pity, it was a desire to protect the child. She kneeled in front of him, giving him a hug, this kid needed it than anyone. “It’ll take a little while, but I’ll bring you home, Tenko. I promise.”

There were no promises she did not keep. That’s what was so admirable of her. Moms are like superheroes, aren’t they?

A month later, after the long process of paper works and what not. Y/n brought Tenko home. “Welcome home Tenko!” He wore a yellow party hat with white polka dots. There was a huge banner across the living room which read, ‘Welcome Home’. It felt like sunshine on a cold winter morning.

Tenko finally got to sit in that dining table once again, and he will continue to do so from now on. Y/n placed a piece of deboned fish on top of Tenko’s bowl, it reminded him sort of his biological mother, his mom wasn’t a bad mom— she just never protected him from dad.

They were complex feelings a 5 year old couldn’t comprehend. Even when hatred bloomed in Tenko’s heart, a part of him said to himself that the man was still his father; he craved his attention like it was water yet also detested his gaze. “Tenko, sweetheart, are you alright?” Tenko���s vision slightly warped, next thing he knew his cheeks were wet, he was being hugged by this woman while being softly patted on his back.

His tiny fists gripped on her blouse, wrinkling it slightly, he buried his face on her and wailed, “Mom!” Chanting the word over and over again like it was an incantation. Tenko didn’t know if it was right to call her mom, but he did. He didn’t know if it meant that he betrayed his biological mother but this woman felt like his mom. She felt like a warm blanket in a cold winter, a sudden shower mid-summer, a bluster of gale in the dry summer. He knew that she was mom.

“Tenko, you’re fine now. You’re home now.” Right. This is home. “Hush now, sweetheart.” She carried him in her arms swiftly and sat down on her chair. She sang his favourite song, ‘you are my sunshine’ in a sweet melodious voice lulling him to sleep. Tenko cries began to cease to hiccups, his eyes became swollen, his lashes clumped together due to his tears. His grip on her blouse began to loosen when his eyes began to close.

Y/n took him to his newly designed room, it was a shame he couldn’t see it yet. His bed frame was of a sports car, there was a basketball hoop stuck on his door, a small tent just a few feet away from his bed with stuff toys inside, boxes of legos ready to be built by him, and some toy cars. Y/n slowly put him on his bed, tucking him in under the blue sheets, brushing away the hair on his face. She kisses his forehead and was ready to leave until his tiny fist clung onto her, “Mommy, please don’t go.”

That day, Y/n swore to herself that she’d help her son get back up on his feet, to make sure that he never feels this way. How could a boy think that his mother leave him? That was too cruel. “Yes Tenko, mommy’s here.” Y/n hands found her way on Tenko’s head, her palm repeatedly caressing his head. “Oh my sweet child.” She mumbles as she watches his chest rise up and down. “The root of my life.” Y/n never felt any sort happiness like this until she had Tenko, her one-month pregnancy was sure tough but it was worth the wait.

Never in her 20 years of living had she thought that the mere sound of his breathing would the sound to bring her to sleep, it soothed her nerves like it was the smoothness of fine silk. “My son, my sweet treasure.”

The next day was Tenko’s first day of his new preschool. A different place meant different people and Tenko was feeling extra nervous that morning. “Tenko, wake up now.” Tenko felt her palm softly hitting his stomach to wake him up. His eyes blinked opened, the light hitting his eyes causing him to shut it quickly.

“Good morning, mom.” He greeted softly, slowly getting up from the bed using the heel of his palm as a support.

She replied in a cheery tone paired along with her bright smile. “Good morning, Tenko!” She ruffled his hair, finding his bed hair cute. “Let’s go take a shower now.” She stands up and waited for Tenko to follow her whilst he fought back from his back kissing the bed again.

Tenko walked into the bathroom a few moments later, he was still not ready to take a shower but he did not want to disappoint his mom.

“Is the water too cold?” She asked as soon as the water hit Tenko’s skin, he shook his head firmly and closed his eyes so that water wouldn’t go in them.

“Are you excited for school Tenko?” Tenko didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he’d have friends or if people would find him weird or gloomy. He had fears which a typical 5 year old would not have.

While she helped Tenko shower, she babbled about what to do and not do in school. She told him to be a “good boy” and that he should listen to his teachers.

When they had arrived in school, Tenko became indecisive. He didn’t want to leave his mom’s sweet abode, he was scared to meet new people. “Mom I don’t wanna go.” Tenko gripped on the straps of his backpack tightly, his nails scratching against the fabric.

She crouched in front of him, not caring about how hard it was due to her black pencil skirt. “Are you scared?” She asked which he nodded his head to. “Sweetheart, don’t worry, the kids are really nice here. If not, you can tell mommy and we’ll find you a different school.”

She took his small, soft hands and caressed it with her thumb. “Besides mommy will be there at the start and see how it goes.” Tenko nodded at her words. To others it may seem like empty words that mothers say to their children just to stop them from whining, but in reality mothers do their best just to see their kids smile.

“What if I don’t make any friends?” Tenko sulked, he hated being alone more than anything. He hated it how there was an indescribable ache in his heart when he feels such strong emotions.

“Why would anyone not befriend such a nice and cuuuuttteeee person?” She pinches his cheeks slightly causing Tenko to feel a bit shy. Tenko felt shy, it was like this as well when old grandmas complimented him in the park; he kind of liked the attention. It made him feel loved.

My mom helped me regain my confidence, she helped me ask out the love of my life and helped me make friends.

“Good morning, L/n-san.” A soft voice said from behind, she immediately recognised who that voice belonged to. She turned her head to look back, and knew it would be the snow haired woman with a delicate yet cold stare.

She stood up properly to greet her and Tenko quickly hid behind her legs. “Good morning, Todoroki-san. This is my son, Tenko.” She nudged at the boy behind her. “Could that be Touya-kun?” Y/n immediately took notice of the vibrant crimson haired boy who stood beside Rei.

“Ah yes! Touya, say hi.” Rei urges to greet Y/n and her son who introduced himself with such great confidence.

“I’m Touya! What’s your name?” Dabi is my great friend. We met as kids cause we were at the same kindergarten.

“My name is Tenko.” He slowly slid out behind his mom’s legs, and made direct eye contact with the turquoise eye coloured boy.

“Touya, I hope you take care of Tenko-kun here.” Rei said to Touya which slightly comforted Y/n worries of Tenko being a lonely child.

“Of course! A hero takes care of civilians!” Touya exclaimed in pride which made the two mothers giggle.

“Hey! A hero doesn’t need to take care of another hero!” Tenko argued, his voice slightly getting louder at the end causing Rei and Y/n to laugh a little more.

“You wanna be a hero too?” Touya questioned with great eagerness and enthusiasm. He was pretty loud and boastful as a kid. He hasn’t changed at all.

“Yes! Do you?” Tenko’s eyes twinkled at the new, profound friendship he knew was about to bloom.

Touya clenches his fists and nods his head with passion. “You bet I do!” The two mothers smiled at the sight, a feeling of warmth sinking in their hearts.

My mom was the reason I wanted to become a hero. When no one reached out their hand for me and when I had given up, she took my hand and forced me out of the darkness.

A message for my mom? Oh uhm. Mom thank you for everything, thank you for being my mom.

[blackcoldcrackedheart]

I need to write. I'm too pissed off rn.

What if Tommy showed up after Patricia died?

Moving her mother's stuff almost felt like betrayal. Abby knew her mom was gone, a part of her felt relieved, another upset, another angry.

It was just too overwhelming to feel or think. She just had to power through it but she was getting more drained and exhausted. Despite her brother, Carla, and Buck being there to help her pack and move stuff out.

Buck was trying his best. She knew that. But she felt a little annoyed and suffocated by him right now. Despite knowing deep down he didn't do anything wrong.

"Okay, clothes are boxed up and ready." Buck let her know, holding said boxes in his arm. She didn't appreciate the smile from Carla and the mirth behind her eyes regarding Buck inadvertently showing off his muscles. "Where do you want this?"

There was a pause before her brother noticed her expression and quickly told Buck, "Over there by the door is fine." He gave Abby a questionable glance, she could see her brother making his way towards her when the doorbell rang.

"That's probably Josh or Sue." Abby sighed, wiping her hands down the side of her pants anxiously. "Buck? Would you mind?" She jutted her chin towards the door.

"Uh- yeah, sure." Buck opened the door quickly and wide, she couldn't see his expression whilst opening it but Abby figured it was similar to her's.

She momentarily frowned, stepping closer when she realized it wasn't Josh or Sue. It was a man carrying a large bouquet of white flowers that was obscuring his face- but Abby knew from the lower half of the man's body that it wasn't Josh...but she was getting deja vu.

The flowers shifted, exposing the man's face.

"Tommy!" Abby exhaled happily and in shock. Pushing past Buck to let the other man in and accept a side hug.

"There's my Abby." It felt all too familiar to be hugged by her ex. Tommy and her weren't together for that long before he came out to her. She was understanding, surprised, but understanding.

He had sworn up and down to her that he cared about her genuinely and that he wasn't using her- to some extent. But the more he spent time with her the more he knew he was just lying to himself.

She should have been upset but Tommy was always kind to her when they were dating and understanding about the fact that her mom came first.

Truth be told, they dated but they didn't spend a lot of time together and Tommy never pushed her about it.

Which made sense in the long run.

"I'm so sorry about Patricia." Tommy told her, his voice sincere, "i wanted to come to the funeral but couldn't find someone to cover my shift." He presented her with the flowers, "Thought to come here to show my respects while dropping these off."

Her brother stepped up first to grab the flowers, shifting it to one side as he stuck out his hand to shake Tommy's. "Hi, I'm Matthew." He lifted the flowers, "These are lovely, I'm sure our mother would have loved them."

Abby felt her eyes sting a bit but she pushed on, "Oh and this is Carla."

Carla gave her a sly look but said nothing as she shook Tommy's hand. "It's nice to meet you. I heard a lot about you."

Tommy paused, looking reproachful momentarily. "Ah, good things, I hope?"

Carla smiled brightly, waving her hand playfully as she told him "Of course!"

Carla didn't move just watching with a curious expression as Abby started to ask how Tommy how he was doing. Before Tommy could get into the weeds about his life, Carla cleared her throat getting the attention of Abby and Tommy.

"Isn't there someone else you might want to introduce Tommy to?" She asked Abby with raised brows and a head tilt.

Abby frowned, looking genuinely confused about who else was left till she noticed where Carla was tilting her head to.

She saw Buck standing by the door still, looking not upset or jealous as Carla might have expected.

But in awe?

Probably in awe at how he could be forgotten like that by Abby.

"Oh, Buck!" Abby gave out a self-deprecating laugh as she ushered Buck over.

Carla was not a betting woman.

But working with people for as long as she has made Carla confident in her ability to read people.

Granted, she didn't know much about Tommy except he was younger than Abby (older than Buck, clearly) and that their break up was amicable.

She thought he was a good looking guy, brown hair and blue eyes. Abby clearly had a type since Tommy was as tall as Buck, buffer slightly (what did he do for work?) And they both styled their hair similarly. Not to mention, Tommy's eyes were blue too, darker in color and sadder somehow.

She would have figured Tommy and or Buck would be a bit possessive or jealous about Abby.

But she oddly wasn't getting that vibe.

"Tommy, this is Evan Buckley, but you can call him Buck." Abby said cheerfully.

It was like watching....something unfold.

She could see Tommy’s eyes light up, a hint of a smile pulling up at the corners of his lips as he shook Buck's hand. "It's nice to meet you Evan."

Buck looked oddly...star struck?

She quirked her head to the side as she noticed Buck dry swallow, "Y-You can call me Evan."

Tommy's chuckle had Buck turning pink all over, making his birthmark seem even redder as Tommy told him. "I just did."

Matthew sided up to her, watching their introduction seemed as perplexing to him as it was to her.

"Right." Buck laughed as he took his hand back, "Right." Carla didn't miss how Buck wiped his palm on the side of his pants, the flush only deepening when Tommy asked, "I take it you're part of the family?"

Abby laughed this time, "No,no, Buck's not related. We're-" she took a deep breath as she grabbed the hand that Buck had used to shake Tommy's hand. "Dating."

"Oh."

Carla felt Mathew bump his shoulder into hers. There was no way Abby didn't see the look of disappointment on Tommy's face there.

"Is that okay?" Abby asked, unsure but knowing in a way that made Carla a little concerned.

"Of course." Tommy seemed quick to fix his face, standing up straighter as his eyes lingered on Buck in a too quick moment that Carla barely caught. "Of course." He said firmly, this time with a smile and patting Abby's arm supportively. "I'm glad you have so many people to support you. It's nice when you have family that has your back."

There definitely was a story there.

Carla didn't miss those sad eyes getting sadder.

And neither did Buck.

"I'm sure Abby is glad to have your support too. I don't know of a lot of exes that would send their ex flowers." Buck gave Tommy a smile that lit up his face, almost as though he was impressed by the guy. "You really go all in, huh." He laughed in good humor, causing Tommy to look down with a small smile of his own.

He almost looked like he was blushing himself.

"I'm not a great ex or anything, I just wanted to check in on Abby."

Buck shrugged, still looking at Tommy in awe. "Still better than any of my exes."

"Tommy is a special ex." Abby declared, running her hand up and down Tommy's arm.

(Yeah, Carla didn't miss Tommy wincing there and looking at Buck)

"You are a sweetheart, you know that right?" Abby asked, not giving Tommy time enough to react or answer before going, "Hey! You know, this is perfect timing because Buck here is a firefighter too."

Buck and Tommy were taken back by that. "You're a firefighter too?" Buck asked excitedly.

Tommy shrugged, seemingly playing coy as he replied "Firefighter pilot really."

Buck's eyes lit up with even more excitement, "No way! That's so cool! You're like a superhero or something."

That had Tommy rubbing the back of his neck in clear discomfort, "Or something." He muttered, but that didn't Buck from asking a bunch of questions about being a firefighter pilot.

Carla thought it was sweet that Tommy and Buck were getting along, clearly Buck had taken a liking to Tommy quickly.

Quick enough that Abby was looking annoyed now.

"Buck." Abby cleared her throat, throwing an apologetic look towards Tommy. "I'm sure Tommy has better things to do on his off day than talk about work."

Before Buck has the chance to become disappointed at that Tommy shook his head, all smiles as he told Buck. "Actually I really don't have anything better to do." He finally looked around the room, noticing the boxes and stacks of Patricia's belongings. "But I can see you guys do." He gave Abby a sheepish smile, "I didn't mean to over step."

"No, no." Abby waved him off, "You didn't, it was nice. It really means a lot that you showed up...it's just-"

"I know. I should get out of your hair." Tommy and Abby shared a small smile and laugh, clearly it was a inside joke. He nodded towards Carla and Matthew, "It was nice meeting you two." He turned to Buck, his smile a hit different. Carla could see something there. Even the way Tommy held himself was different when he spoke to Buck. "It was really nice meeting you too, Evan." He stuck out his hand for Buck to shake.

"Yeah- yeah. Y-you too." Buck fumbled, earning a playful smile from Tommy.

Before the latter opened the door, Buck suddenly went, "I should get your number."

Carla needed popcorn for this now.

Tommy looked at him questioningly, a confused but ghost of a smile there as he looked towards Buck for clarification.

Buck could feel all eyes on him now, he looked at Abby and then at Carla and Matthew before turning to look at Tommy again. "Y’know...for firefighting... stuff." He stammered, he shook his head and held his chin higher, a bit proud of himself as he told Tommy "I'm a probie so it would be great to talk to you. Maybe get some pointers?"

Tommy shook his head as he laughed, head tilted up and eyes finally bright as he told Buck. "Of course." And pulled out his cellphone as Buck did the same.

"I'll call you? Maybe we can set up a time for your to tour the harbor?"

Buck sighed in relief, his smile matching Tommy's as he told him "I would love that."

Tommy nodded , patting Buck's arm as the other man held his wrist momentarily. "We'll talk soon then Evan. Bye."

"Bye Tommy."

Once Tommy was out and the door was closed, Buck was right back at Abbys side. "Tommy seems so cool!"

"Yeah, he is." Abby confirmed, not looking bothered at all that her current boyfriend and ex were chummy now. "I'm glad you two seem to like each other."

"What's not to like? Tommy seems really interesting." Buck looked back at the door, his eyes falling back to the boxes. "Was there anything else in your room that belonged to your mom that you wanted me to move?"

While Abby gave Buck a list of things to grab, Matthew could only ask Carla "Is he always like that with people?" Referring to Buck

Carla shook her head "No." Granted, she didn't know Buck for too long but Buck always struck her as the jealous and insecure type when it came to Abby.

But he seemed opened and even excited about Tommy.

Even before knowing that Tommy was a firefighter too.

(Abby really had a type.)

"Guess Tommy is just so cool." Carla joked, realizing the joke fell flat as Matthew still looked at Buck with a studious expression. "What? What do you think it is?" She asked.

Matthew became all smiles and coy himself, "I don't know yet."

[honeybeefae]

Past and Present (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Eris Week Day One: Family

Summary// As you prepare to birth your first child, Eris is taken back to when his mother went into labor with Lucien, especially as the same problem seems to arise. When you reach out your hand for him to stay, will he take it or will he be just like his father?

(The first fic of Eris week is here and I hope you guys love it so much!! It is pretty emotional and shows a softer, tormented side of Eris that I feel we definitely need to see more of in the books!)

@erisweek2023

WARNINGS: Childbirth, Trauma, PTSD, Blood

The contractions were coming in waves as Eris watched you hold onto one of the banisters of the bed, your entire body covered in sweat as you let out another scream of pain. You had been in labor since last night and now that the sun was setting once more, everyone was growing concerned about you and the baby.

“My lord,” One of the healers pulled him aside as your back arched, hand flying to your belly. “My lord, the baby…”

“What about the baby? What is wrong?” He snapped, his nerves on edge as the healer fumbled over his words. “Spit it out. What is wrong?”

“The baby is breech, my lord. He is coming feet first.” The healer explained quickly, dabbing a cloth across his face as Eris glared at him. “We need you to make a decision.”

“It is not his decision to make, it is mine.” You gritted out through your teeth, rocking back and forth as your body began to try and push your child out. The doctor warned you to stop but you couldn’t fight it, every muscle in your abdomen tightening as you looked at your mate, frightened. “Eris, please.”

“Are you asking me to decide between my mate and my child?” Eris whispered, face pale as the healer nodded. As another scream tore from your throat he was suddenly pulled back into a long-forgotten memory, his hands shaking as your body was transformed into his mother's.

“We need to get the High Lord. He has to decide.” The healer mumbled to his assistant as the Lady of Autumn laid on her back, legs spread while guttaral screams tore from her throat. “Hurry, there is no time.”

The healer left the room, poking his head out, only to find a young Eris waiting across the doorway. He immediately stood and walked to the door, palms sweaty. “What is it? Has she given birth?”

“We need your father.” The healer began, voice nervous. “There are complications that-”

Eris jumped when he heard his mother screech in pain, his eyebrows furrowing as he shook his head and tried to get into the room. “My father has left to hunt as he always does. He is not here. What decision needs to be made? Why is my mother not making it?”

“Tradition stands that your father needs to be the one to make the call. How soon can you fetch him?” The assistant pressed, turning when he heard his master calling his name in urgency. “Hurry! The baby is coming!”

“It would take hours. Please, tell me, what is happening?” Eris pleaded, his voice shaking as the assistant looked around for anyone else before sighing and allowing the young man inside. “Mother!”

“Eris,” The Lady of Autumn moaned, her clammy hand reaching out as her body urged her to push. “Eris, the baby…something is wrong-”

“The baby is breech. If it comes down to it, who would your father want to be saved?” The healer bluntly asked, blood staining his hands and forearms. “Who?”

“Should this not be up to my mother? Is this not her body?” Eris asked angrily, holding onto his mother tightly. “It is her decision. Mother, what do you want?”

“It is not-” The healer began but before he could finish the sentence Eris had flames circling his neck, not hot enough to burn but enough to let the man know he had no hesitation in ending his life.

“Do whatever she wants or you will regret it.” Eris threatened, turning to his mom who was watching him with fascination. “Hang on for me. You are so strong.”

She opened her mouth to respond but before she could reply, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she went limp. Eris started shaking her, screaming her name, but she wouldn’t wake up. 

The healer jumped into action while the doors flew open, Beron standing in the doorway in his hunting gear as he asked gruffly, “Well? What is it?” 

“The babe has not been born yet, my lord. She is having complications and-” The assistant tried to explain but Eris cut him off, slamming his hand on the bed as he looked at his father.

“She is unresponsive. She is losing too much blood.” He spat through his teeth, turning her face towards him in worry. “She’s not going to make it if they don’t get it out of her.”

Beron took a deep breath, watching the flurry of moments of everyone in the room with disinterest, before turning and walking out the door and down the hall. Despite the chaos going on around him all Eris could hear was his father’s footsteps as he walked away from his mother, leaving her to die without a second thought.

As the healer and assistant were finally able to save his mother and deliver the baby, “Lucien” his mother had whispered when she finally came to, Eris swore that he would never, ever become his father. 

“My lord?” The healer repeated, Eris blinking rapidly as he was brought back to the present. He turned to look at you, at your large, round belly, and finally at the blood that was dripping onto the floor as you squatted down and wailed. 

“You will save both of them or I will have your head. Do you understand?” Eris said quietly, his voice dripping with venom as the man’s face paled and he swallowed thickly. He didn’t wait for a reply before rushing to your side and cupping your face, pressing your forehead against his own as he closed his eyes and breathed.

“I know you’re scared and I know you’re tired, my love. You have been so strong and I just need you to hold on a little longer, okay?” Eris cooed into your ear, wincing as you gripped painfully on his upper arm as the healer instructed you to finally push. “You are an amazing woman and although our child seems to have my stubbornness, I know everything will be alright.”

“Do you promise?” You pleaded, cheeks puffing out as you prepared to push again. “Do you promise everything will be okay?”

“I promise.” He nodded, kissing your cheek before taking your hand and looking to the doctor. “Now push.”

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“Twins,” You whispered incredosouly as you held them both in your arms, the pillows soft against your back while you rested for the first time in days. “I can’t believe we had twins.”

“We still have to name them…” Eris smiled as he crawled in beside you, careful not to jostle the bed too much as he rested his cheek on the top of your head. 

“I’ve already named them.” You smiled sheepishly, turning to the gaze at their sleeping faces. “Say hello to Sienna and Arista.”

“Sienna and Arista,” He hummed, pretending to be in deep thought while you rolled your eyes. “I love it. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You said softly, turning your face to kiss him and basking in the safe haven of your family of four. Eris wrapped his arms around the three of you, squeezing you for a moment before bending down to kiss each of their heads.

“I love you all too.” 

[wildestdreamsblog]

When you tried to move on from them

Pairing: Maknae line x Reader

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

Jimin

“Go home, Jimin,” you ordered in a hard tone. You came home from a date only to see him standing in front of your door, clearly waiting for you. You heard him sniffed as he looked up at you, his pouty lips shaking.

“W-were you on a date?”

You looked at him dead in the eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

“B-but, I love you,” he pleaded at you, tears falling from his eyes, the same eyes you thought was the most beautiful.

“Apparently, not enough to stay loyal to me,” you replied dryly before opening your door. You were about to slam the door to his face when he pushed the door, careful not to hurt you. Jimin had always been strong. His built made him looked harmless, but you saw the muscles in his body, felt how strong he was on the nights he couldn’t be gentle as he made love to you.

So it came to no surprise to see him easily stopping the door with only his one hand.

“If you’re trying to make me jealous, stop it. You don’t want to see me jealous, baby. I don’t know what I will do if you ever look at another man again,” he said in an emotionless voice, his face losing the sadness it had mere moments ago. In its place was a serious, yet terrifying expression.

You should have been scared.

“Go home, Jimin.”

Why would you listen to him? You weren’t cheating on him. He did. And now you were moving on, he had no right to go to you and cry as though he wasn’t the reason why you had to start over again.

But you should not have underestimated his obsession for you.

“Mom!” You called out as you entered her home. She hadn’t been responsive of your calls for days that you decided to finally visit her. She normally didn’t answer calls, too busy with her own group of friends in the neighborhood that at first it didn’t bother you. But you felt that this was something different.

What alleviated your fears was seeing the lights turned on in the house, the sound of someone cooking in the kitchen made you shook your head. Perhaps, you had been watching too much murder mysteries. “Why weren’t you answering my calls…” you trailed off when your ex-boyfriend, Jimin, stepped out of the kitchen.

“Baby, you’re home!” He beamed at you, walking around the dining table to go to you when you stepped back.

“W-what are you doing here? Where’s my mom?”

He smiled in that angelic way of his, one that made you say yes to him before. But now, it looked sinister. Now, it looked wrong.

“She’s…somewhere.”

“What did you do?” You whispered as you felt the wall behind your back. You had nowhere else to go and he knew it. “J-Jimin please-“

“Shh,” he gently shushed you before caressing your face. God, he missed your face. He missed your heat. He missed you.

He craved you.

“She’s safe, baby. Do you want to go to her?”

You could only nod.

He smiled at you, “We’ll go to her, baby. As long as you’re a good girl.”

It was obvious. This was a threat, a barely concealed threat. It was like Park Jimin, a devil wrapped in an angelic face.

“Will you be my good girl once again?”

Your nod cemented your fate.

Taehyung

“Let go of me!” You shouted at the man carrying you over his shoulder. “Unhand me, you brute!” You were trashing your legs around, beating your fists against his broad back, yet Taehyung kept walking. His incessant need and despair for you made him determined to finally make his move, no matter how small it was.

Really. It was supposed to be a little thing, just something to see and talk to you. After all, it had been almost a month of you evading and ignoring him. Really, he was supposed to be calmed.

He really was.

But you just had to go and date some other man who could not even give you everything you wanted. And so, Taehyung saw red. If it weren’t for you wrapping your arms around him, he would have beaten the undeserving man to death. But Taehyung was too touch starved, too desperate of you that one touch of you managed to clear the haze in his mind.

He was quiet as he walked to his fancy car. He deposited you as gently as he could on the front seat, never minding your attacks on him as he fastened your seatbelt. The image of you seating in front of someone else that wasn’t him, the image of you holding someone else’s hand unleashed the barely restrained beast he had inside him. One that you only managed to peak at during the times when he slipped.

“Calm down or I’m going back there to finish what I started,” his deep voice was terrifying, yet the message he partook made you froze. The Taehyung you knew was a gentle soul, someone who would never even kill a fly, someone who took his time to appreciate flowers. This was not him.

But really, did you ever know him? The real him?

You watched in bated breath as he got in the car, your eyes wide as you watched him movements. How could he be so calm as though he didn’t beat someone? As though he wasn’t a punch away from almost killing him?

He terrified you now, a feeling you were unfamiliar with when you were still with him. Would he hurt you? Would he be too uncontrollable that he would lay his hands on you?

Taehyung took a calming breath as he drove away. He could finally feel peace now that you were near. He could finally feel the beast inside him retreating, making him feel human again.

“W-where are you taking me?” Your voice trembled. He was driving calmly with one hand, the other gripping your hand despite your obvious resistance.

“Where else?” He flashed you his sweet smile, his eyes leaving the road for a second to look at you. He was utterly handsome, but his eyes were frightening. “To our new home.”

“W-we broke up-“

“We just had a small fight, princess. That’s all,” he cut you off in a hard voice, signifying that this was the end of discussion.

“It was not a small fight and you know it! You cheated on me in that house-“

You felt his hand squeezed yours for a moment before running his thumb on it. “That’s why I bought us a new house, princess. It’s in a good neighborhood, close to good schools. And our house has more rooms so when we finally have a child, we would be ready.”

Your jaw slackened at his delusional words. Child? A house? School? Taehyung was certifiably insane, you were certain now. He brought your clasped hand to his lips, looking at you with all the love he felt before placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

“We will never be apart again, princess. I promise you that.”

Jungkook

It wasn’t easy leaving Jungkook. But hiding from him proved to be a challenge. If you thought he was bad when Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi had to hold him back just so you could leave, he was worse now. After that fateful day when Yoongi managed to stop the golden maknae by some divine intervention, you went straight to your best friend’s house, seeking refuge from the chaos that was your life. You couldn’t go to your parents’ house because you knew he’d immediately go there. You couldn’t go to your and his apartment because that would be similar to walking straight into a lion’s den.

You rationalized that you wouldn’t hide forever, that it was just now because you couldn’t face him. Not when he betrayed you. Not when the image of that girl sucking him off was still ever so present in your mind. Not when how he reacted terrified you.

But days turned into weeks. And his desperation for you only seemed to multiply, his messages and calls seemed more frequent. In his twisted head, you were still his and what happened was merely a bump in your road. And if you were his, didn’t he deserve to know where you were? What you were doing? Who you were with?

You sighed in irritation as you reject yet another of his calls. Couldn’t he take a hint?!

“I’m sorry about that,” you said apologetically to your date.

He merely smiled before putting down the glass of wine. He was your colleague, a friend of yours before you even dated Jungkook. He was kind and simple, exactly what you needed right now. He waved off your apology, “Clingy ex?” He asked jokingly.

“Something like that,” you mumbled.

A date turned into two, which turned into more.

It felt nice to go out there and date simply without any restrictions that came with dating an idol. Perhaps, your breakup was a blessing. But to Jungkook, it was a curse.

It was especially a curse now as he looked at your social media. You were tagged by some asshole on a picture of you drinking wine, your eyes looking at the camera and a small smile on your lips.

Was that it? As he was breaking down, you were out there trying to forget him? Trying to move on from him? As if he would let you?

As though he would go down without a fight?

Well, if you thought he would let you slipped from his grasp that easily, if you thought he wouldn’t die first before letting you go, you were so fucking wrong.

It was midnight when your phone kept ringing. And when you finally looked at your notifications, your whole world collapsed before your very eyes.

Jungkook just posted a picture on his social media of you and him on the day he proposed to you. You were proudly showing off your ring to the camera as he looked at you with all the love in the world.

God, what had he done?

You could feel your heart beat louder, drumming against your bones. You could feel the walls closing in on you. You couldn’t breathe just thinking about what would happen to you now that the whole world knew your face, now that the whole world thought of you as his. You were certain you couldn’t leave the apartment, that you couldn’t go to work with all the reporters and fans that would be flocking to you.

Jeon Jungkook, in a snap of his finger, confiscated your freedom.

You didn’t waste anytime. You called him immediately as you walked around your apartment, distressed apparent in your face. You thought he wouldn’t answer, you thought he would be petty. But not a second later, you heard his voice.

“Hi, my love. Miss me?”

“How dare you, Jungkook! How dare you-“

“No. How dare you date someone else? It was a wrong move, my love.”

“We broke up!”

“Did we?” He pondered, his voice deep. If you could see him now, you would be terrified of him. “The whole world now knows we’re engaged, my love. You can no longer run away from me.”

Jungkook smiled for the first time in more than a month. Finally, you would be back in his arms. You had to because he left you with no choice. This time though, he wouldn’t let you leave.

Checkmate.

He had you cornered.

You knew he had you cornered.

[sacrednova]

Emily's Journey.

2 --->

Simon Riley, better known to the world as Ghost, was a man who thrived in silence. He had made a life out of moving undetected, blending into the shadows, and making himself invisible. His apartment was a reflection of that—quiet, unremarkable, almost bare. It was one of those old flats in a nearly abandoned building on the edge of town, where the paint was peeling, the pipes groaned at night, and the neighbors kept to themselves. Just how he liked it.

But as of late, his peaceful existence had been disrupted by something far more relentless than the threats he had faced on the battlefield: a five-year-old girl named Emily.

It started innocently enough—a few knocks on the door here and there, polite introductions from her mother, Zoe, who always looked a little too kind for the world he inhabited. Zoe had the kind of warmth that radiated even in brief exchanges, her brown eyes soft and expressive, and her voice a soothing balm to anyone who heard it. She had a curvy figure that spoke of motherhood, and her wavy brown hair often framed her face with an effortless grace. And then there was that mole just under her lip, a small, beautiful mark that drew the eye.

But for Ghost, none of that mattered. He kept people at arm's length for a reason. There was no space for softness in his life—not anymore.

That didn’t stop Emily.

She knocked again one evening, just as Ghost was preparing for a night of silence, maybe a book to read before bed. The gentle rap at his door made his jaw clench. He stood there for a moment, debating whether to answer, but it was only a few seconds before the knocking became more persistent.

"Simon! Simon, are you in there?" her small voice chirped from the other side.

With a heavy sigh, he opened the door just enough to peer out at her. There she stood, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes as if he were her best friend in the whole world. Emily had a habit of talking to him like they were confidants, something Ghost couldn’t quite wrap his head around. She didn’t seem to fear him at all, despite his towering frame and perpetually masked face.

"Your mum know you're here?" he asked, voice rough and low.

"She's busy," Emily replied nonchalantly, as if that excused everything. "I wanted to show you something."

Before he could protest, Emily darted into his apartment like a gust of wind, her tiny feet making soft thuds against the worn hardwood floor. Ghost left the door wide open, with a heavy sigh, reluctantly following her as she made herself at home.

"Kid, this isn't—" he started, but she was already pulling something from her jacket pocket. A crumpled piece of paper, filled with colorful, childlike drawings of animals and… was that him?

"I drew you!" she announced proudly, thrusting the paper into his hands. "See, that's you with the big muscles, and that's me, and there's my mom!"

Ghost stared at the drawing, feeling a strange tug in his chest. The stick figure meant to represent him was absurdly muscular, with a skull mask drawn over its face. Emily’s figure was small, with bright yellow hair (even though her real hair was brown), and beside her was Zoe, smiling with those familiar eyes.

"Looks… good," Ghost managed, unsure what else to say. Compliments weren’t his forte.

"You can keep it!" Emily beamed, as if this was the greatest gift anyone could offer. She bounced on her toes and looked up at him with such pure enthusiasm that for a moment, Ghost found himself completely out of his element.

"Thanks," he muttered, carefully folding the drawing and placing it on the edge of his kitchen counter. "But you should probably head back home. Your mum might be worried."

Emily’s face fell slightly, her lip jutting out in a tiny pout. "Do you want to come over for dinner?"

"Emily," he said with a note of warning, though it lacked the usual sternness he used to keep people at bay. "I don't—"

"Please?" She blinked up at him, her wide brown eyes too much like her mother's.

Ghost felt a pit form in his stomach. How was he supposed to handle this? A part of him—an old, buried part—ached at the sight of her. He wasn’t cut out for this kind of interaction. He’d spent so long training himself to push people away that the idea of sitting at a dinner table with a five-year-old and her mother felt more foreign than any battlefield he had ever been on.

But before he could give a firm ‘no,’ quick steps stopped at the door of his place.

"Emily! What did I say about bothering Simon?" Zoe’s voice rang out, firm but still laced with that ever-present kindness. She stood in the doorway, an apologetic smile tugging at her lips as she crossed her arms. "I’m so sorry," she added quickly, looking at Ghost with that same soft gaze that always made him feel slightly exposed, as if she could see more than she should.

"It’s fine," he said, though his tone was strained. "She was just showing me her drawing."

Zoe’s eyes softened even more as she looked between them. "She's quite fond of you, you know. I hope she’s not causing too much trouble."

Emily piped up immediately. "He said my drawing was good!"

Zoe smiled, the mole under her lip becoming more noticeable as her cheeks lifted. "Well, that’s high praise coming from Simon."

Ghost shifted awkwardly, suddenly feeling like an intruder in his own space. "She’s fine," he repeated. "But you should probably head home. It’s getting late."

"Actually…" Zoe hesitated, biting her lower lip for a second before she spoke again. "I was wondering if you might want to come over for dinner. Just this once."

Ghost’s immediate instinct was to decline. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to keep his distance, to stay in his own world where it was safe, controlled. But something in Zoe’s eyes, that gentle persistence, mixed with the hopeful grin on Emily’s face, made him pause.

"Come on, Simon," Emily chimed in. "We made lasagna. It’s good, I promise!"

There was something about the way they both looked at him, like they expected him to say yes. Like they genuinely wanted him there. It had been so long since anyone had looked at him that way. For a moment, Ghost felt a strange pang of warmth in his chest, a sensation he wasn’t sure he liked.

"…Alright," he said finally, the word coming out before he could stop it.

Zoe’s face lit up with surprise. "Really? That’s great! You don’t have to stay long, just… you know, it’s nice to get to know your neighbors."

Ghost nodded stiffly, already regretting the decision. But he couldn’t take it back now. Emily was already bouncing on her toes again, clapping her hands as if this was the most exciting thing that had happened all day.

They led him out of his apartment and down the short hallway to theirs. Zoe's flat was small but cozy, with warm lighting and a few pictures on the walls. It felt lived-in, a stark contrast to the cold, empty space Ghost called home. He took a seat at the dining table, feeling like an outsider in this small, domestic scene.

The meal was chaotic in its own way. Emily wouldn’t stop talking, even less when she saw him lift his mask slightly to eat, the inexhaustible energy of a child, telling stories about things she did in kindergarten, her friends, and the "coolest thing" she’d seen on TV that morning. Zoe occasionally tried to reel her in, but there was a warmth in the way she let her daughter express herself. The conversation flowed around Ghost, pulling him in despite his efforts to remain detached.

At one point, Emily accidentally knocked over her glass of milk, spilling it across the table. Zoe sighed, but there was no real frustration in her expression as she wiped it up, just the kind of patience that came from years of motherhood. Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he’d been part of something so… normal.

By the time dinner was over, he felt like he had been pulled into something he couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was unfamiliar. This wasn’t his world, but maybe—just maybe—he didn’t hate it.

As he stood to leave, Zoe walked him to the door. "Thank you for coming," she said, her voice sincere. "I know it’s not your usual thing, but… we appreciate it."

Ghost nodded, unsure of how to respond. "Thanks for dinner."

Emily rushed over, hugging his leg briefly before Zoe pulled her back. "Goodnight, Simon!" she called out, waving enthusiastically.

Ghost gave a short nod, then turned and walked back to his apartment. He closed the door behind him, the silence pressing in once more. But this time, it felt different. Something had changed, a small crack in the armor he had built around himself.

And it all started with a knock at the door.

2 --->

[mintmatcha]

This took me 5ever because my brain still hurts! sorry it sucks!!!

"Can you not smoke right now?"

Zeke pulls an even longer drag, pulling away to let the smoke seep from between his bared teeth. The sidewalk outside his apartment is empty besides you two and a collection of trashcans waiting for the morning. Even without summer heat, the stench is almost papable, hanging in the back of your throat.

"When did you become my fucking mother?" He flicks the butt to the ground and crushes it between his dark heel and the pitted concrete. He jams his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched like the hackles on a dog, ready to bite.

Time may have sharpened his teeth, but it's done the same to yours.

"If I was your mother-" You pause, picking words you know you'll regret. This was supposed to be peaceful, and yet you're willingly starting a war- "I would have abandoned you years ago."

Zeke scoffs. Not a strong enough reaction to satisfy the worst part of you.

"Oh. sorry-- if I was your mom I would have sent you to military school and then abandoned you, right?"

Zeke looks up at you from over his glasses, eyes narrowed into slits. His jaw flexes, muscles working as he grits and simmers.

"God, you're such a cunt." His voice is tempered- a sign you hit the exposed nerve he never let heal. After a couple of breaths, something that always fuels the fire instead of calming him, the man straightens. "You'd be a shittiest mom."

Zeke grinds his heel into the ashes again. "And I know shitty moms, don't I?"

Usually, you could shrug his insults off, but this one sticks. He doesn't know yet, how all those tests came back positive, how the doctor gave you tiny pictures of the blob that's growing inside you.

You knew sleeping with your ex was a bad idea, you just didn't think the regret would be so physical.

"No, I wouldn't." The crack shocks him more than you.

"Are you fucking crying?" Zeke softens just a bit, more confused than anything else. You're horrified to realize he's right- tears have begun to bubble down your cheeks. You try to hide behind your hands, but the damage is done; he finds your arm, holding you by the crook of your bow as he dips to your height. "Hey, stop. Stop that. What are you doing?"

He takes your hands into his, manhandling your face free so he can see you properly. You forget that he's pretty under that personality, with deep set blue eyes and tussled blonde hair. His beard is no longer pure brown, but dusted with flecks of grey towards his temples. When he looks at you, it still feels like you're 16, talking to a boy that might love you.

"You've gone soft on me, girl," he clicks his teeth, affect still flat.

But you're not 16. You're fifteen years older than that, talking to a man who broken your heart too many times. The thought of him loving you no longer fills you with butterflies, but something heavier, the sinking feeling of lead in your gut.

"Zeke..."

He's hurt you and you've returned the favor, over and over again. Sometimes by accident, most of the time on purpose.

"What's wrong with you? You never cry over this shit." He throws in a shrug, "Why do you care about being a mom all or a sudden?"

Hands still held away from you, its all you can do to sniffle. As he waits, Zeke's face slowly drops as he thinks, paging through micro-expressions.

His eyes widen. He knows.

"Why do you care about being a mom all of a sudden?" he repeats, much more serious than before.

He knows and yet he waits for you to tell him otherwise.

"I'm pregnant."

The news hits him physically. Zeke recoils, dropping your arms to clutch at his hair, palms digging into his temples.

"Shit. Shit, that's-- it's--" He clears his throat. "It's mine?"

He knows you haven't been dating anyone else; the second anyone gets close, Zeke's there, dragging you back into his mess and back into his bed. That's what happened last month. That's how this happened.

"Yeah, it's yours. Unfortunately."

"Don't. Don't play like that right now." Zeke's head snaps to face you, lips curled in disgust. "I'm trying not to lose my fucking mind and I can't have you fucking insulting me-"

A sob you weren't expecting escapes you. The cocktail of hormones and stress has left you brittle, leaving you crumbling in its wake.

"I'm s-s-sorry," you hiccup, clutching at your face again, "I know you hate me-"

"Stop crying," he says, coming back to you. "I didn't say that, stop crying."

"Jesus Christ, it's fine." With a barely there tremble, Zeke wraps his arms around you and sighs. The wool lapel of his coat digs into your nose harder as he pulls you tighter, a semblance of real affect there. "I'm here, it's fine, it's fine. Just calm down."

"I don't know what I'm going to do," you whimper through hiccups and sniffles, wiping your face on his coat.

"Breathe or else you're gonna pass out." Zeke pats your back, stroking up and down in the way he knows you like. "You're being crazy. Is this really the end of the world?"

You scowl into him. "Fu-fuck you, you're such an asshole."

"There's my girl, there's my spitfire." Zeke presses his lips into the crown of your head, surprisingly chaste and sweet. He does it again, then again, arm locked around your shoulders and chin pressed into your forehead. After a long moment of being locked to him, he begins to sway, pressing one leg against yours to force you backwards. The give and take guides you, pushing you towards his place.

The shuffle is awkward and slow, but the man never lets you part from him, even as he struggles with the lock. You try not to let it comfort you, you try not to fall for him again, but his breath against the crown of your head sends chills down your spine.

Maybe he loves you, deep down somewhere.

The apartment is dark, illuminated by flashes and thrums of light. Eren is sprawled on the couch, headset half off of his head. He barely looks up from his game, throwing a nod your way. You nod back and hope the dim hides your tears.

"Oh, hey." The young adult pushes his mic out of this face, "Z, are we still going to order pizza, or-?"

Zeke shoots him a look.

"Alright, I'll fucking order it, damn."

You're quickly ushered back to Zeke'a room. It looks how it always does- clean, if not barren. You're finally let go, Zeke's arm falling away as you shuffle towards the bed. The man is already rummaging through his closet, pulling out the two extra pillows he keeps there for you.

"Lay down." He joins you there, puffing up the down and piling them the way you like. When you don't immediately obey, he gestures towards it, almost urgent, "Come on."

The conversation you need to have dies on your lips. Both of you stand there, the sound of Eren's game permeating through the thin walls. Tears still stain your cheeks, but the hysteria seems to have stopped for now.

"You want to have it, don't you?" Zeke says.

You nod.

"I figured. You always wanted a kid." The blonde flops down on to the mattress and you follow, spread out of what used to be your side. maybe it still is. "Just didn't think it'd be my kid."

"You don't have to be involved, Zeke."

His boots are muddied at the heels, staining the practically pristine comforter with red clay. Your own shoes aren't much better; the laces are undone and soggy, trailing halfway to the floor.

"I'm not a dead beat." His hand finds yours and squeezes. "I'm a shitbag, but I'm not a dead beat. I'll be here."

That doesn't mean anything. There's no plan, no certainty, no promises- but it makes you feel better regardless. Zeke has never been a good man, but he's always been good to you when it mattered the most.

"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" he says.

"I think it's a genderless blob of cells right now." you reply, "So it probably looks just like you."

He shoots you a look, not unlike the one he gave Eren.

"You can laugh now, but you're going to be irate when our child looks more like me than you."

Zeke'a hand squeezes tighter and you squeeze back.

[insom-nom-nom-niatic]

Female reader x Troy Otto after he "died" the reader was the one who stabbed him after he got to grabby you her she stabs with his knife and ran off she the only doctor so she valuable to the group he would also like his knife back. Maybe after a couple month he finds her and I would like some choking but anything would good

SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER!!! I hope you enjoy it.

CHARACTERS: Troy Otto X Fem Reader (third person for some reason cause that's what happened)

WARNINGS: It's made for FTWD so you should know the basics. +SMUT (read at your own risk. I'm nobody's mom) +Choking +Somewhat past possible attempt at r**e but he didn't didn't and he'd have stopped.

“Turns out being stabbed a second time hurts more than the first.”

“Good. I meant for it to hurt.” Her voice cut through the air like his knife did as it cut through his muscle. Her features showed no sign of surrender or fear, only sincerity in her words as the torch flame flickered their shadows on the cement walls. 

Troy raised both hands in surrender, his eyes glancing down to the same knife once stained with his own blood and back into her eyes. His shoulders tensed under his black jacket as her knuckles faded to a paler color gripping the handle of the sharp blade tighter. She had no reason to trust Troy after the last meeting the two had, yet, looking at the man out of his element and with no one around to make him feel taller than he already was, there was a certain chord he hit somewhere in her stomach. She didn’t feel that she was in danger, rather and oddly the opposite.

“Maybe it hurt a bit more because of who it came from.” He stood still as a tree, looking back to the woman through his eyelashes subconsciously. He was here on a mission to bring her back, but seeing her now and the life she’s had since that day months ago made a pit in his stomach open and swallow his heart whole. 

It had been 6 months give or take since she fled. Fled into the cold, rainy night unsure of what terrors where beyond the small compound. But she had to go, at least that’s what her body told her to do in the moment, there was no turning back. It took about a month for her to miss what she had. A roof over head, food and water, and most of al the protection that one Mister Otto provided. 

Ever since day 1 of finding the group, back when there was only a few of them, she could always feel something different with Troy than with any of the other men or women. He looked at her different. Talked to her different. He acted, well, gentler with her than anyone else even as the group grew to more than a few dozen. He told her on multiple occasions how they all needed her… how he needed her. 

He said that same thing the night everything changed. 

“You didn’t listen and forced my hand, Troy. Do you think I like starving out here on my own? I couldn’t come back and deal with any possibilities of YOU.” 

Ouch. Troy felt her words like a punch in the jugular. His eyes couldn’t hide the wince of pain he felt as his blue and white orbs fell to the ground at her boots astrown with holes. He thought back to that night, a night that has haunted him since. The look in her eyes when he felt the searing heat of his own blade slicing his flesh open. The apprehension that was once in her eyes now flickered with rage as she looked directly into his one good eye, pulling the blade back with force and bolting out the door, leaving his howls of pain and his own anger behind her. 

She left him alone. A nightmare he had only ever shared with her. 

“I know,” Troy’s entire expression fell like the edges of his lips. Her grip on the blade loosened as he continued. 

“I have regretted that night since, regretted what I tried to do and-” his eyes caught ahold of hers, both stomachs dropping at the same time before he continued. “-not listening to you. All those times that I told you that the group needed you, I wasn’t lying. They need you more than they need me so if that’s what it takes then-” 

“You’re going to leave for me to come back?” She cut Troy off mid sentence, shocking them both. The grin pulling at the ends of his lips to her question secured the answer both knew, but Troy was honestly questioning if he would do as he said for her. 

“Is that really what you want, darling?”

“No, no, no, no. Don’t you call me that, Troy.”  His voice changed back to the Troy she knew, the Troy that made her so irritated and yet welcomed and needed. His little pet name she only ever heard him reserve for her. She hated how much she loved it, but now was not the time for his little mind games. 

“Look-” Troy lowered his hands, resting both comfortably on his hips with his head rolling back in a stretch before meeting her gaze again. “-I know where you’re at now so the option is to come back with me willingly now or I’ll carry you kicking and screaming and the walkers can pick us both off together then leaving the group without a doctor or a leader.” 

The look he gave was unfaultering even through his bluff. She knew Troy wouldn’t force her to accompany him if she didn’t want to, and looking around the small cement room she didn’t have many reasons to NOT want to go back. But she knew if she didn’t go now, he’d end up sending a large enough group to her coordinates that she’d have to leave. It was a decision of eating roadkill for another week or not, and the growing smirk on the brunette's face solidified the answer. 

“You’re not getting your knife back.” 

“Oh c’mon!” She returned the smirk, sliding the sharp, freezing blade into the back of her jeans whilst kicking dirt on the smoldering fire, dimming the light in the room to the single lantern behind the tall brunette. 

A pit in her stomach arose, looking back at the small dug out she called home for the last few months before carrying on behind the footsteps of Troy Otto.

Her nuisance.

Her monster.

Her torment.

Her protector.

And possibly, her savior.  

As night ran into day, both she and Troy’s speed wavered. His footsteps lagged with each step whilst her hands pulled her weight forward tree after tree, both too stubborn to say it was time for a rest. 

Suddenly, a low growl came from the ditch 5 feet from their left. One growl turned into 5 moans, turned into 10 grunts and so on. Both stopped in their steps, hearing the rumbling below the dirt embankment grow with each step they took. 

Sharing a glance, She pushed Troy’s shoulder towards the sound, egging him to go see what they are facing. 

Begrudgingly, Troy cautiously snuck to the edge of the embankment, peering over for a heartbeat or two before a few large footsteps brought him back to her. His hands resting on her upper arms, somehow soothing, while his eye searched the surroundings opposite from the sounds. 

“C’mon, this way,” Troy whispered into her ear before pulling one hand along behind his back. She didn’t pull away, didn’t even notice what he’d done until the cold recaptured her skin moments later. 

As the sun set on another night somehow still breathing, she watched as Troy set traps surrounding the small camp you both had made within only a few good minutes. He swore he would stay awake throughout the night, keeping watch, and yet he paced the perimeter around the small camp fire you’d made, placing leaves and anything that would alert to movement around. 

As he finally sat opposite of her, she couldn’t helo the smile that arose her lips. 

“What?” Troy asked, his cheeks heating from within. That look, the look he’d only ever felt from her made his stomach ache with a hunger he’d only felt a handful of times. He rose to his feet once more, turning to hide the flush he knew she’d be able to see on his skin. 

“Oh c’mon, Troy. Don’t be like that!” Her tone changed to playful and open, like she once was with  him. Glancing down at her shivering fingers, the realization set in. She hadn’t felt this way, hadn’t sounded like that, since she’d been in his company. And even then, it was only ever in HIS company. 

“Come sit. Please?” 

A large breath left Troy’s chest, battling his own heart and mind was something he was used to but having her here again made his whole body numb. He finally obliged, turning on a heel and padding his large footsteps ever softly on the dirt towards her. Looking around one more time for any signs of the deead, or worst any living, before taking a seat beside her. His nose once again thanking him for the fire light in the dense cold. 

“You saved my ass back there,” Her words were soft, sincere. “So thank you, I guess. If it was just me again I probably would have been toast.” 

“You would have been fine, I’m sure.” Troy played with the scar on the back of his left palm. His right thumb digging into the rough scales of skin, the heat she gave off next to him nearly matched that of the fires. It felt good, warm. Yet, he the uneasy feeling was unwavering. 

“You‘ve known that all this-” she gestured to their surroundings. “-This was never MY strong suit. I patch up the people that are good at this kind of thing. People like YOU.” 

She earned a chuckle from the brunette, his shoulders shaking slightly bringing his eyes back up to meet the fires dancing flames. 

“I suppose you always did do a pretty decent job at fixing me up.”

“DECENT?! Oh, I did a whole hell of a lot better than decent with the stitches in your bicep, or your calf, or your left, and don’t forget about the right pec. I bet you can’t even tell you ever were wounded.” 

“You didn’t do a very good job on my thigh-” Troy stopped after that one word. He shouldn’t have said it, he shouldn't have brought it up. Dead silence fell between the two, not even the crickets had the guts to make a sound. 

“I made sure to not hit your femoral vein if that’s any consolation.” Her voice was that of a mouse. So quiet that Troy wasn’t sure if he had merely imagined it. Until he glanced slowly in her direction, catching that look of shame she had only shown once or twice, making his frown shift. 

He wanted to give her a side eye, cautionary and intense, but he had decided to sit on her right which meant his side eye had to be a full look over for his good eye to catch the way she sucked in air through gritted teeth.

Smooth Troy, very smooth. 

He felt her weight shift a tad, looking over to see her body in a full shiver before trying to hide it again. He rolled his jacket off his broad shoulders, catching the back and draping the hefty coat around her. The look she gave him didn’t need words, as he gave a half smile and turned back towards the glowing flames. 

What seemed like hours had passed in silence, comfortable silence, before Troy felt her weight lean into his side. His head swiveled in her direction, his breath caught in his throat when he felt the closeness of their faces in the dimming light. 

She didn’t turn away this time when he gave into his impulse. His flesh melting with her own. He never fully understood how humans had the ability to somehow find their partner’s lips in the dark until that moment when everything seemed to click. 

Neither one was expecting this, rather the opposite. She was expecting to not live to see their group again and he’d figured she was going to end him with his own knife one night in his sleep. But as life has it, something in their fate changed. 

Feeling his warmth only inches from her, she caved. Pressing her weight into him in a full kiss, her eyes drifting closed taking in his lips, his scent, his touch. Both grasping for skin as they weaved their lips together, his tongue nudging at her bottom lip while his hands roamed her body.. 

A sudden pressure was released from her waste band. Cool air drifting over exposed skin as Troy’s lips curved against the pulse of her neck. His chest wavered with a deep chuckle as his head fell backwards with a toothy grin in a croak of laughter. 

“This is mine now,” Troy waved his knife in the air above the two, like a child finally getting back their favorite toy. “Well... again.”

Sitting back on her elbows, the woman shook her head slowly, unable to help the grin growing on her features. He was such a literal pain in the ass but when he was like this, when he wasn’t so serious and did that little giggle of his she couldn’t help but fall further down his rabbit hole. 

His eye caught hers again, shadows flickering in the movement of the flames at their feet as he curled one arm around her torso moving to hover over her form without ant loss of eye contact. He was afraid he’d see that fear in her irises again like the last time they were this close, but he caught submission, adoration, maybe some excitement instead. 

His body moved against hers, clothing against disheveled clothing causing friction against both their skin. She was sure he could feel the heat radiating through her body where his hips rolled against hers. His sweet moan filling her senses as his eye bore down on her. His eye grew dark, lustful, wanting more than just the friction of clothing. He wanted to warm her up in the cool dark night in more ways than just this. 

The small bite of her lip and a nod gave him all the leeway he needed. Not a second passed before his lips were suctioned back onto hers. His tongue forced its way through partially opened lips as his fingertips did the same to her waistband. She was in such a flurry she didn’t even realize where his hand had disappeared to until his lips traveled to her ear, whispering how wet she had become before a wave of heat ran up her spine, arching her back against his touch as his cold hand palmed her most sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Choking on air, she breathed deeply into the skin exposed on Troy’s neck above her. Her fingernails gripped the jean jacket covering his shoulders as he nipped little bites down her neck and onto her chest. His movements faltered as he glanced up, catching sight of the woman clenching her eyes closed, teeth gritted on her bottom lip sure to cause blood. Something about that aroused Troy further, quickening his hand free from her jeans and making short work at removing the slightly damp piece of clothing. 

Staring down at her form, Troy felt his member twitch, longing to be free from it’s confines. She wore a simple pair of blue panties that caressed her just right, barely covering her modesty from what he could see in the dimming fire light. Her thighs twitched under his gaze, her meat looking as delicious as the shy giggle that escaped her swollen lips. 

His gaze shifted up her body, taking note of every cut and bruise that covered it before locking gaze with her again. Her eyes had darkened as his did as he shrugged his light jacket off, throwing it towards a tree to their left. His white T-shirt following suit. 

From where she lay, she could see the bulge in Troy’s pants shiver with every movement she made beneath him. Her foot nudged his ass whilst he removed his shirt earning a throaty groan from the brunette between her legs. She scanned his body in the shadows, her gaze stopping on the last wound she cured. A large scar on his abdomen still ever present as a wave of his cries of pain fled like a stream through her ears. 

Troy saw the way her eyes changed, knowing she was occupied elsewhere in that pretty little mind. Clearing his throat, he regained her attention only to give her a little show taking off his jeans. He forgot she hadn’t seen the scar she herself gave him until the moment her eyes once again fell. Her fingers reached out, pulling her to sit in front of him as she ghosted her fingertips over the scaled skin. 

She sure did a good job leaving her mark. 

Troy gave her a moment, but no longer than that before his fingertips caressed her chin. His callouses rubbed her soft, cold skin raising her attention to look him in the eye. The smirk she was met with sent another shiver down her spine, this time accompanied by a hefty gulp and a new warmth dripping from her core. 

One hand dipped lower, finding her folds with ease, applying just enough pressure to earn a whimper from her as his other hand draped around her neck. With a catch in her breath, her eyes shot open with a smirk feeling his fingertips close around delicate skin. 

Her own fingers traced harder over the scales on his thigh but eventually gave in to his touch, leaning backward until her back once again met the cold, hard dirt. Her hands dug small scrapes through the pine needles cushioning around her. Troy’s grip on her throat didn’t relent as his other hand delved one digit, now warmed between the two, into her glistening core. With every pulse that clenched down on his finger, his own member reciprocated. 

The cold air around them was a welcomed element. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to resist her much longer as he rubbed his clothed cock on her inner thigh. 

He wanted her to need him. 

He waited for her to need him. 

He needed her to need him. 

As his name dripped from her lips, Troy couldn’t hold back any longer. He didn’t waste time undressing any further as he pulled his underwear down just enough to release his begging cock before replacing his finger with a much larger fulfillment. 

He watched as her eyes clenched shut, a single tear running from one corner of her eye glistening from the shallowly dancing flames. His grip on her neck released at the feeling of her nails raking down his bicep. Her touch melded with the sweet smell of her arousal and gasps of breaths, his thrusts unrelenting. Filling her to the brim over and over. Watching her face contort in ecstasy whilst he sucked in his bottom lip to keep from silent. The only thing he couldn’t muffle were the grunts and groans that escaped him and the sound of bet skin meeting wet skin with such force and need that would make even a nun blush. 

Troy felt her begin to spasm in an eruption of an orgasm. 

It was in her breathing. It was in her nails grazing his skin. It was in the way her body contracted around his cock. It was in the way she whispered sweet-nothings only he will ever know as she bit down on his shoulder, surely leaving yet another one of her marks on his skin. 

He knew he needed to pull out, his own release matching hers. But the way she felt, how she looked, the way she smelled and sounded filled his senses and all Troy could think about was painting those glorious, tight walls of her with his seed. It was a dangerous game they were playing, he knew that. 

And still he did as he pleased. 

His body fell atop hers. All strength leaving him in his release as he collapsed above her, limp dick still within her walls feeling every pulse her body made. 

Everything was silent, the world seemed to disappear as the two soaked up each others heat as the sweat balls rolled off each others skin and into the earth below. 

When the sun began to rise, shining brilliantly through the fog lifting from the tree tops, the pair shared a look. 

“We should get going I suppose. One more day to camp, right?”

Troy nodded silently, a small grin returning to his swollen lips as he chewed his tongue slightly. “I’ve been used to sleepless nights, but this one took a bit more out of me so keep it slow.” 

The woman giggled hopping to her feet and extending an open hand down to Troy, both fully knowing if he took it he'd pull them both down.

“Who knew you’d be such a little chatter box after intimacy, Mr. Otto. The sleeplessness wasn’t fully my fault I do recall.” 

Troy leaned his head back against the tree where both were once propped up on, a toothy smile adorn on his tired and satisfied face. His chest heaving with a silent laugh before shoeing her hand away with a grunt to his feet.   

[rorimoon9597]

If he was known for anything, it would be his emotional maturity. Because when Pidge and Keith both floundered with refugees of all ages, Lance, Allura, Shiro, Coran and Hunk would be going around and offering comfort and a break, however small, from their troubles. It was something that came naturally to him from having such a big family.

So when Keith disappeared for two weeks without any trace after the Kral Zera, he freaked out. It was annoying for his friends, and only Coran was able to listen to his panicked rambling every single time.

Then Keith came back, and he didn't spare the details of his travelling, just that he ended up befriending a wolf that could teleport. They fought Lotor, and found out that Shiro was actually a clone and oh gods, his head hurt from all of that.

So now they were on a planet that Coran suggested they stopped on to recharge as much as possible and to relax. They were going to be heading back to Earth soon, which was exciting. Lance hadn't seen his family in so long. He wanted to introduce them to his boyfriend. He wanted to tell Adam that he finally got a boyfriend. Adam would be so proud!

But they needed to sort something out. Namely, why the hell didn't Keith call?

So Lance stood and stretched. eyes darted to him, including Shiro's eyes that had that fatherly look in them.

"Well, I'm tired. I'm going to go to bed now. Night," he said with a little wave. He walked to Red, who bent down to let him in. He could hear the others behind him, murmuring their goodnights except for Keith.

Lance went about his nightly routine, waiting for Keith to join him. It took a few minutes, in which he washed his face and changed into his pajamas, for the man to show up.

Keith was wearing his own pajamas, the wolf behind him. He walked up to Lance and wrapped his arms around him. The both of them relaxed, melting into each other. The wolf went to explore Red's interior, sniffing at things before moving on.

"I missed you," Keith whispered. His voice was deeper, and it sent shivers down Lance's spine.

"I missed you too... Why didn't you call?" He asked. He was prepared for a fight involving Keith being unable to talk at all.

"The quantum abyss didn't have reception," Keith said. Lance frowned.

"Quantum abyss?" He asked. He turned around to see Keith properly. "What is that?"

"It's where we found the planet that Lotor moved the Alteans to. If you're not careful, you can get pulled apart, atom by atom. It nearly happened to me once. Mom saved me from that." Lance gaped at Keith like a fish.

"You- what?"

"I know it sounds bad, but we were able to get to safety. There were these things that had their own ecosystem. They produced enough oxygen for humans to breathe, so Mom and I stayed on one of those while we were traveling," Keith explained. He rubbed circles into Lance's hips.

"What else happened?" Lance asked.

"There was a time dilation. So... Mom and I spent two years there." That truly made Lance's jaw drop. He looked at his boyfriend again, taking in how Keith's jaw was more defined, how his hair was longer and how he was taller now. He was taller than Lance, which meant that Keith was close to Hunk's height. That man was near six foot.

"Holy shit, you're- you aged two years while you were there?" He said.

"Yeah." Keith was watching him.

"You've changed," Lance observed, his voice soft. Keith's eyes grew... sad, almost.

"I have," he agreed. Lance smiled.

"I like these changes, you know," he said nonchalantly as he ran his hands up and down Keith's arms, feeling the newly developed muscles. They weren't like Shiro's, but they were definitely more prominent than before Keith left for the- what was it, quantum abyss?

"You do?" Keith asked. Lance swallowed. Keith's voice was going to be the death of him.

"I do," he replied. He rested his hands on Keith's chest, letting himself feel the faint thumping of Keith's heart. "You're taller than me, now, for one."

"So you like my height?"

"I like you, so I like everything about you," Lance replied, feeling satisfaction as Keith's skin colored just a bit. "Your voice is deeper as well, you know. It's hot." His arms moved to rest on Keith's shoulders, hand connecting behind black hair. Keith smirked and leaned in close.

"You like my voice, darling?" He asked. The Texas accent that Keith only spoke in when he wanted to came through, sounding better with the deeper voice.

"Shut up," Lance said. He pulled Keith into a kiss that he'd been waiting for since he first saw Keith on that screen. Keith hummed into it.

It was- it was the best kiss, for some reason. Perhaps it was because they hadn't seen each other in two weeks - at least, for Lance it was two weeks. For Keith it was two years.

"Why did you brush me off earlier? At the castle?" Lance asked when he pulled away. Keith's eyes were sad. Like, genuinely sad.

"I'm sorry, Lance. I had a mission, and I had complete the mission or else I probably would have decided to ignore it completely in favor of holding you. I... I knew that I'd do that, and I couldn't, because Allura needed to know and we needed to get revenge for all of those Alteans and stop Lotor," Keith said. Lance nodded, unable to say anything. He pressed another kiss to Keith's lips.

"I understand, cariño. It just threw me off a bit there, y'know?"

"Are you actually okay, Lance?" He paused at the question. Normally, it would take longer for Keith to ask that. Lance studied his boyfriend, ignoring the fact that they were both studying each other.

"I'm better now that you're here," he replied honestly. Keith studied him a bit longer, but eventually smiled.

"I'm glad. The past..."

"Two weeks," Lance supplied helpfully.

"It's only been two weeks for you guys?" Keith asked, surprised.

"Yes. Now, you were saying?" Keith smiled and shook his head.

"The past couple of weeks must have been hard for you, yeah?"

"The two years you spent with only your mom and your cosmic, teleporting wolf must have been hard for you. Hey, that's a good idea!"

"What is?"

"Kosmo!"

"Kos... mo..?" Lance pointed at the wolf, who tilted its head.

"Kosmo!" He said again. Keith blinked at Lance, then at the wolf. Then he turned to face Lance again.

"I guess. We'll have to see if he likes it, though." Lance turned to face the wolf.

"How's that sound, huh? Kosmo?" The wolf wagged its tail, then teleported over to them for pets.

"Alright... I guess his name is Kosmo now," Keith agreed. Lance grinned.

"Yep. And... I've been separated from you for far too long. So... what do you say cariño?" Lance asked, a grin on his face. Keith grinned back at him.

"Sure," he said. Red grumbled in the back of Lance's mind then retreated, leaving the two to their own devices. Kosmo, reading the air of the room, also disappeared.

________

"Do you want to know what I like the best about this newer version of you?" Lance asked. He traced patterns onto Keith's skin.

"What's your favourite thing?" Keith asked. Lance rested his head in the crook of Keith's neck, shivering slightly at the touch of his hand on his back.

"How you've grown emotionally," Lance replied. Keith hummed in response, encouraging Lance to keep going. "I like how you're able to talk about things much better now. The only reason why it took you so long to talk to me this time is because of the fighting, and Shiro too. But you didn't run from talking about things this time, and you apologized without me prompting."

"Mom helped me with that. We bonded a lot during our two years on that creature," Keith replied. Lance listened. He'd always liked the sound of Keith's voice, but he loved it now. The way it rumbled was comforting to Lance.

"I'm glad that you found her," Lance said.

"I'm glad that I found her, too," Keith agreed. "It was weird at first, y'know? How do you talk to a parent that's been absent for most of your life? But I learned about her story, how she met my dad and fell in love with him, how they found Blue and kept her as safe as possible. How Dad had to help Mom give birth which he had experience in. Did you know that he helped deliver babies when the mothers couldn't get to the hospital?"

"He did?"

"Yeah, so he knew what he was doing. Man, that would've been weird to explain. But Mom and I grew closer. We saw visions while we were there, in the quantum abyss."

"What did you see?"

"Us," Keith replied and oh, that was so sweet.

"Tell me," Lance said. And Keith indulged him, telling him of the things he saw. Shiro and Adam getting married and adopting two Altean children. Hunk and Shay getting together, them with a Galra child.

He told him of Matt's future wife and kids, how chaotic they were and how Pidge appeared to be a good aunt. He told Lance about Silvio becoming a cadet at the Garrison.

Then Keith told Lance about the two of them; the girl who looked like them combined that bought crystals that looked like fire and water, about her twin brother who looked like Keith more than Lance but cracked similar jokes to him. About the flying fox creature, about their wedding, how they would rebuild Keith's childhood home for the four of them and visitors.

And Lance listened, letting himself be lulled to sleep by Keith's voice.

When Keith noticed, he smiled. He pressed a kiss to Lance's hair.

"Goodnight, Lance. I love you, so, so much," he whispered.

[saminator]

the joys of being a masculine trans man

Today, sometime around 9:30 pm, I had an epiphany. Maybe I finally found the joy of being trans. I'd always heard people say it, but I thought it was bullshit. Until today, being trans had caused me nothing but misery and fury. If you asked me anytime before today, April 3rd, 2024, at 9:30 pm pst, whether or not I liked being trans, it would have been a hard no.

I have prom coming up. I'm going to the prom at the school I would have gone to if I'd stayed in my middle school's town. I know a lot of people there, and three of the people at that school are the only hope I used to have when I was 14 and 15, still figuring myself and the world out. Don't get me wrong, I still am, but I was so unhappy back then, and they offered me unlimited comfort. Anyway! I'm going to prom with them and I was kind of excited about it. I'd been having a hard time getting myself to be excited about anything lately. I told my parents I needed a suit for prom and they asked if I could wear something I already had. I said no. All I have are two blazers from the women's section that I got in 2021, one red and one gray, which are incredibly comfortable and nice but they were from a time when I wasn't allowed to shop in the men's or boy's section, and another 3-piece suit which is a bit too large for me that my ex-girlfriend (who's trans) gave to me because I would enjoy it far more than she ever did. I'd also borrowed a blazer from a friend, and again, while it was wonderful, it was also from the women's section. I wanted something new, something that I picked, something that fit me and made me feel okay. So, we started looking for one.

My dad and I went to the mall two days ago to try and look for a suit, but they were either really expensive, or just not my size. Then, my mom told me to look for it online and have my dad pick it up on the way back home from work. I did that. I ordered a gray blazer and dark blue dress pants from the boy's section. My dad got them home. I tried them on. I loved it more than I had ever loved any piece of clothing before. My dad was so encouraging about making sure I looked good and he kept suggesting different variations I could try of the outfit. After a whole hour of trying on different shirts under the blazer and showing my mom and having her feedback on it, I went to go change. Then my dad called me, saying "don't change! wear your blazer!" and asked me to move the trash bins into our backyard because it's extremely windy and they were being knocked over (also because HOA hates when trash bins are left out apparently). So I went to do that.

And I was walking down the driveway with the wind blowing in my hair, I thought Wait. Is this what they mean by the "joy of being trans?" Earlier, I couldn't stop staring at myself in the mirror because I looked so fucking handsome it was UNBELIEVABLE. My smile didn't feel ugly, my hair didn't feel shabby, my entire body didn't feel like a mistake. And now, in the wind, dragging the landfill bin behind me, I felt happy with being trans.

I don't care if others don't see me as a man. The mirror sees me as a man. That's all that matters. The sheer happiness I felt wearing a suit that wasn't someone else's or from the women's section or too big or not mine was crazy, Suddenly, my short height, my high-pitched voice that no matter how deep I try to make it still gets me misgendered, and my un-muscular body didn't matter. I WAS IN A FUCKING SUIT THAT I LIKED THAT FIT ME THAT WAS FROM THE BOYS SECTION THAT MY PARENTS ALSO LIKED THAT KEPT ME WARM IN THE WIND. I was smiling like a maniac on the way to the backyard.

I'm sure this experience doesn't just happen to masculine trans men. Maybe you're a cis man reading this and you're short, have a high-pitched voice, and aren't jacked up. I see you, and I know how isolating it can feel to be the way you are, no matter how hard you try. I've tried working out to get muscles. I can't gain weight easily. I'm literally 5'1'' and 90 pounds. I hate it. But who cares! I have a suit that's sexier than sex!

I love being masculine. That's something you won't hear people say often because masculinity is demonized because it was always weaponized in the past (and still is). But I'm not all of those men. I'm my own man and I choose to love and embrace masculinity. What is masculinity anyway???? Is it suits? Is it being built? Is it having a deep voice? Is it having a beard? Is it being tall? Is it doing taxing manual labor? No! It's none of those things objectively, not even the suits. I've said this before and I'll continue saying it, if wearing dresses or skirts or doing makeup makes you feel masculine or is your definition of masculinity, hell yeah! Go for it! To me, masculinity is home. It's looking at myself and smiling because I look good. It's wearing a suit and feeling warm and cozy and ready to do anything. It's having a better relationship with my parents because we're all trying our best. It's being daring and taking risks just because I want to. Femininity couldn't give me any of this.

Especially in a time like now, where no trans space is safe from discussions of the happenings of the world, the world where people want to erase us because they think we're a threat. The fact that people are afraid of us is astonishing. But we persevere, we wear our suits or dresses or overalls or corsets or fishnets or khakis or hoodies and we pursue happiness because it's comforting to think that it exists for us. And it does. If someone like me could find euphoria in being trans, anyone can.

But yeah, in conclusion, the joy of being a masculine trans man is trying on your prom suit with the wind blowing 18 miles per hour in your hair and feeling alive and manly masculine male >:)

[undercover-monsterlover]

I just found your blog and im in my jojo era so i am SO thankful you do jojo matchups you are my savior thank you <3

So! I would like a matchup from JJBA please and thank you! I'm female, fine with any pronouns but i prefer she/her! I'd like to be matched with a man ty

I'm a very optimistic person in general, but certain things just tick me off so badly i can't help it. Most of the time im sweet and kind, im basically the mom friend. I lovee getting to know other people but i struggle with the whole social thing. I'm a sensitive person and i WILL cry or atleast tear up if watching sad movies/shows. I'm an amateur voice actor, it's a passion of mine and i love doing it! I also rlly like going trough my fav characters and looking at who their vas are then get giddy when i hear them somewhere else lol. I also love love drawing even if im not the best and i also LOVE reading, be it manga or books. I could yap about my fav things forever, but i kinda never do because i always think it just annoys people and nobody cares about what i have to say, so i just sometimes bring things up nobody else knows of and they stare at me like 👁_👁. My love language is physical touch for sure i loveee cuddling and holding hands and shit.

I honestly have a kinda specific type even if we don't take appearance into account, that's a different story. I seem to gravitate toward men who are the most childish, loud, overconfident (deserved or not) people on the planet it's honestly so noticeable too if i look at my fav characters. I just want a funny, silly, goofy man.

I'm 5'3 and have looong wavy brown hair that kinda curls up at times. I also have some big ass green eyes, freckles and a shit ton of birthmarks, like i have atleast 3 on every body part. My style is honestly just casual, i basically wear hoodies or oversized shirts 24/7 bc theyre comfy.

Uhh yeah i hope it isnt too much to ask for :3 ty in advance!!

Alright, I'd match you with...

Jean Pierre Polnareff

I felt that Polnareff was a strong match for you, especially given your type. I wanted to match you with someone who is loud, funny, and overconfident, but knows how to tone it down just a touch when appropriate, so you have someone that fits your type, but is still good for you and doesn't wear you out in the long run. I'd say especially in the beginning, Polnareff does most of the social heavy lifting, he could talk to a brick wall for an hour without caring, so it makes it easy for you to get to know him, and become comfortable around him, before you start opening up in return. We know he's a very forward person, so you never really have to struggle to figure out what his intentions are, or decipher complex social cues, what he says is pretty much what he means.

It doesn't take long for Polnareff to consciously decide/realize he likes you beyond just a friend. He especially loves how optimistic you are, he can be a touch reactive, even moody, so your outlook reminds him to look on the brighter side of things. Throughout the show, he's very sweet to the girls and women the crusaders come across, so I think he would take that to the next level with someone he actually knows likes. Opening doors for you, pulling your chair out, generally being very attentive. He's definitely a romantic, and he'll remind you that's because he's a Frenchman at every opportunity.

He is just insufferable during the flirting stage. He is always trying to show off for you, and blatantly at that. Straight up flexing for you, letting you feel his muscles, making a show out of lifting or carrying things. You'll never have to carry luggage or shopping bags again in your life, and he'll probably tell you that point blank. And god does he love to make you laugh. You wanted someone funny? Well he can definitely provide. Even if what he's doing isn't exactly funny, his unashamed attempts to get you to laugh will make you do so anyways. Every ten minutes you'll hear "watch this" only to watch him go off and do the most random bullshit. The others hate it, but you find it cute, he's very eager to please.

I think it wouldn't be too long before he confesses to you, he isn't a very patient man, and he's made it pretty obvious he likes you anyways. I think Polnareff would also unintentionally try to move the relationship forward very fast, you'll have to remind him to take things slow if you don't want a proposal within a month. He probably bought the ring before he even confessed anyways. Polnareff is also very fond of showing affection physically, he's always got an arm slung around your shoulder, or waist, or leaning you against him in cars, stroking your hair, holding hands, anything where there's skin on skin contact. He doesn't want to leave you alone for a second. You'll have to remind him to tone down the PDA if you don't want to be making out in public. And god, the pet names are almost embarrassing at times. "Mon amour, Mon trésor, lumière de ma vie, mon puce." If you ever respond with your own French pet name for him you're being smothered in kisses, btw, use that information wisely.

Polnareff LOVES to listen to you talk, no matter what it's about, and since he's also a chatter mouth, you'll go back and forth for hours. The yap sessions are unmatched in their longevity and intensity. He's often guilty of not actually processing what you're saying, letting it go in one ear and out the other, he just likes the sound of your voice. Maybe even more than he likes the sound of his own voice. And he of course loves your voice acting skills, he thinks it's funny, and cute. He keeps trying to teach you French, so you can "broaden your voice acting options" but he really just likes hearing your accent when speaking his language. He thinks it's sweet how excited you get over voice actors, but god forbid you ever mention someone having an attractive voice, or any show or movie with them is being blacklisted. I have a feeling he'd be a touch jealous overall, which might cause some tension in your relationship if he's not careful, but a conversation should fix that anytime he's going overboard.

Polnareff isn't as interested in books as you are, though he'd never tell you or refuse to let you read to him or talk about it. The manga how we, that he can get into. He's always been into comics and cartoons, so manga isn't unfamiliar to him, and he'll always read your favorites if you ask. He thinks it's adorable when you cry during movies, and he has to stop himself from laughing or cooing at you when you have tears in your eyes, but it's hard for him when he happens to look over at you during a sad screen and you're just staring at the screen with tears in your eyes.

He's always found you attractive, and he never chills out about it no matter how longe you've been dating. He thinks you have just the prettiest eyes he's ever seen, and your freckles are so cute. He seeks out your birthmarks like a scavenger hunt, and if he's feeling even more affectionate than usual he'll make sure to kiss everyone of them. He loves giving you his clothing, since you find oversized clothes comfy, but mostly because he loves seeing you wear his clothes. He may "accidentally" leave his clothes around your place so that you can keep and wear them.

Overall, your more temperate personality is very compatible with his more impulsive one, you keep his mood and his ego in check, and he makes sure you're always happy and tended to.

[astoldbyaja]

Where Hands Touch Ch.2 ~AU Demon Slayer~

Focusing was such a bitch when you had so many tests to do at school. I hated school so much! But here I sat in the library, a senior in high school, trying to end this year strong so I could get into a nice college. God the future sounds stressful already!

I read my study guide from front to back, yet nothing was clicking with me. I could hear he the front of the library’s door open and familiar voices made my head snap up. Kyojuro Rengoku and Tengen Uzui were coming with books under their hands. When they saw you, their eyes lit up.

“Leona!” they called out happily despite the librarian shushing them. I met them my sophomore year. They were friends with a few others who seemed pretty levelheaded. They came to sit beside me.

“Damn how do you think you did on the test?” Kyojuro asked Tengen. He sighed with annoyance.

“God, I don’t even know. I just hope I pass, or else coach says I won’t be able to run in the next track game.” He groaned taking out two different colored nail polish colors. Kyojuro looked at me with bright eyes.

“Hey Leona, have you heard Obanai or Mitsuri? If they’re ditching class, you should text them and tell them to meet us here.” he said. I began to take out my phone.

“On it.” I replied hearing the door of the library open again.

“He was a total loser; God I wish he would stop asking me out or else I’ll have to get my big brother to handle him!” a cocky tone said. In came Ume Shabana, with her clique, his little sister who is a sophomore as well. The group of girls began to pass by us. Ume scoffed at Tengen who only stuck his tongue out and lowered the skin beneath his left eye. The two did not like each other at all. I checked my phone after getting a text from Mitsuri.

“They’re studying in Obanai’s car.” I replied. Well, we all know what that means. The boys gave each other lecherous looks.

“My man!” Tengen replied giving a high five to Kyojuro. I rolled my eyes.

“Animals.” I muttered, hearing the library doors open.

“You should have seen me in gym! That fool Genya didn’t stand a chance on the wrestling mat!” I hear Inosuke Hashibira boom. The librarian was spitting as she shushed the group sophomore of boys entering. Beside the blue haired boy was Tanjiro Kamado and Zenitsu Agatsuma.

“He’s going to want payback for sure!” Zenitsu warned. Inosuke showed the muscles in his arms.

“Well, I’ll be ready to win another round!” he said happily as the three moved to sit at another table. They saw us and Tanjiro waved at us. Kyojuro and I smiled and nodded our heads. Tengen was painting his nails and was not paying attention.

“So, study group tonight? My dad says I can have friends over!” Kyojuro said happily.

“Children this is a library not a pep rally!” the librarian said loudly. We snickered and let our heads fall some. The doors opened again and this time, a figured walked in by himself. My smile faded some as I watched Gyutaro Shabana enter and move toward the front desk.

I don’t remember having many happy thoughts after my mom died. But I do remember being at my small locker in elementary school staring at the open space inside. There was no lunch box, no school supplies. Nothing. A rancid smell filled my nostrils, but I was so dead inside to care.

“Um… L-Leona.” I heard the broken tone of Gyutaro. I turned slowly, looking at him. He still looked the same, shaky knees, and body too thin for his clothes. I stared at him for a moment watching as he twirled his fingers over together nervously, eyes looking down at the ground. “U-um. I’m sorry about your mom.”  I winced feeling I might cry again. However, some kids were walking by scowling at the back of the boy’s head. They laughed and pointed covering their noses.

“God you still stink!” one of them said.

“Don’t you take a bath loser!” another said.

“So ugly!” the last child said. I watched the kids walk away feeling empty still and Gyutaro looked down placing a hand over his cheek eyes watering and lip quivering. I noticed he covered his face a lot when the other kids mocked him. I looked at him immediately remembering how my mother held him, rocked him even, after having him over a while ago. She would hold me when I was afraid or crying or sad, and she did the same for this boy. In that moment he was loved, cared for. We were both hurting for different reasons. I took a step closer to him ignoring the rotting smell of him, and just like that, I gently embraced him. He gasped, body tensing up immediately.

He didn’t move, he didn’t breathe it felt like.

“Thank you Gyutaro.” I said lightly in his ear tears streaming down my face. I could feel his weak arms moving to gently embrace me. Kids passing by immediately saw this and whispered and pointed. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care about much anymore or at least I thought I didn’t.

Gyutaro had grown into a much taller young man. Although still very skinny, I could see the amount of muscle on his arms when he wasn’t wearing a leather jacket or one of his ripped t-shirts. He was definitely not one to mess with either. He was quite the fighter, always beating down anyone who messed with his little sister, Ume. We went to the same middle school and even now high school, but we never had a single class together. I saw him in the halls sometimes, when I was younger. Sometimes social services came, and I’d see him and them in the office with the principal or a teacher.

The black splotches over his face and arms are another reason he was in fights. I’d hear some stupid jock would run their mouths at him asking him what was up with his face. His teeth, although not as crooked still had a sharpness to them, and his hair now green at the tips and black at the top where his hair was pulled up. I suspect he dyed it to gain some kind of happiness in his life.

Everyone made up rumors about him, but he didn't care as long as no one messed with his sister, he just didn't care. I thought it was nice he was still attending class. I wasn't sure how his living situation was now, but I felt it couldn't have been easy from what I remember about him.

I noticed Tengen already shooting a glare in the boy’s direction. Since my friend was a jock, he did not appreciate his friends getting hurt by the older Shabana boy.

“So, how’s about it! Anyone want to come over, Leeeee?” Kyojuro purred flirtatiously, yet I could tell it was innocent.

“Sorry, I have to work tonight.” I replied. I took a job at a café called Bodies, Hotties, Mocha-Chocalotties, it was the “hippest” café spot where all the teens like to go. Eye roll.

“I understand. Work comes first!” Kyojuro said pleasantly.

“Hey how’s your brothers and dad doing anyways… it’s going to be that time of the year.” Tengen said. The anniversary of my mother’s death. I sighed and shook my head.

“I don't hear much from my brothers. Dad’s gonna start drinking again and it’s only a matter of time before he starts inviting his buddies over again.” I replied. My dad was a wreck after my mom passed and my brothers, unable to live with him any more eventually moved away to college and the military. My dad picked up some real mean friends down at the construction site that he works at once I started high school. They like to take him out and get drunk then convince him to come back to the house and drink some more. He’s never sharp enough to notice the lecherous looks they give me when they’re hammered.

It's one of the reasons why I started working at the café.

I remember feeling so embarrassed when my dad’s friends came home while I had Tengen and some of the others over to study. Mitsuri and Shinobu and I were trying to read our notes, all the while Tengen, Kyojuro and Obanai were too busy carefully watching the grown adults that were basically eye fucking the children in the room.

I tried to ask my dad to make them leave but resulted in him just pushing me away.

“You’re a kid, your job is to be seen not heard! This is my house, and I can have anyone in my house!” he snapped. The boys were on their feet immediately.

“We’re going to study at my house!” Kyojuro blurted. All the while, Tengen was behind me lifting me up.

“Come on, you can stay at my house until they sober up.” he said in my ear.

“I’ll be working take on more hours after school.” I said. Kyojuro and Tengen winced.

“Well, our parents know the situation, you’re more than welcome to stay with us or even Shinobu or Mitsuri until this time passes.” Tengen told. I smiled at them both.

“Thanks.” I replied. The bell rang above us, and I could hear the librarian sigh with relief. We packed up our things and began to walk toward the doors. As I passed, I glanced over at Gyutaro to see him just slouching against the counter look annoyed out of his mind. I could see his black painted fingers clicking down on the desk. His blue eyes cut across to me and on cue, he began to scowl. On instinct, my lips twitched into a mechanical smile as if saying hello, but looking away when any guy looks my way. Call it a nervous habit, but it was just a way still be polite but continue to be on my way.

Also, Gyutaro hates when people stare. Once out in the halls, I separate from my friends and headed to my locker. Once it was open, a piece of paper was falling out and I caught it easily. Odd, I keep everything organized, and in a folder, there shouldn’t be any loose paper. It was a bit crumbled, but I could see something written inside. I opened it.

In the shadows, I’ve watched you, a beauty so radiant it makes my cursed blood boil. Your grace is something I’ve never known, something so pure it’s almost painful to behold. You’ve unknowingly stirred something in this wretched heart of mine, something I thought was long dead.

I envy the world that gets to see you every day. But envy can be a powerful thing, you know. It’s driven me to do unspeakable things, and yet here I am, writing this, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you might look upon me with something other than disgust.

I’m not like the others who adore you. I see the world as it is—rotten, cruel, and undeserving of someone like you. But maybe, in the darkness where I dwell, you could find a place too, a place where no one could hurt you ever again.

Don’t try to find me. I’ll always be watching from the shadows.

Yours truly, --XX

I re-read the words for a moment trying to figure out how I felt about note.

“I know damn well I don’t have a stalker!” I said to the inside of my locker.

----------

Taglist

@tuxud7

[baambastic]

Who wants a giant list of various sentences and phrases I’ve collected or otherwise thought of? That could also be used as prompts.

You’re getting it regardless.

“…but I take your meaning.”

“Dashed/shattered against the rocks.”

“His gaze softened.”

“<Name> didn’t know what to say.”

“You will leave by sunset, or you will not see the morning.”

“Leave before the setting sun, or you will not see it rise again.”

“Are you calling me a coward?” “No, I am calling you defeated, <name>.”

“And they will do so again, and again, and again. And there shall be no end, for they will never run out of that which they deem evil.”

“Your god’s love is not unconditional. He does not love us, and he does not. Love. You.”

“You could sooner divert a river from its path than deny us ours.”

“His blade sang, each strike(/flash of steel) a resonant note (in the song of combat).”

“I’m not much for ____.”

“A look of faint ____ (apprehension, shock, surprise, etc.) (flitted across his face).”

“Swallowed up by…”

“You’re hip-deep in it now, and the only way out is forward.”

“Draw up plans to…”

“With a bit of luck…”

“A sensible choice.”

“, to be sure.”

“Mirth in his voice.”

“…as the crow flies.”

“…as the wolf runs.”

“Present company excluded, of course.”

“If you don’t have your own story, you become part of someone else’s.”

“My gift, given freely.”

“Anything worth doing is hard.”

“Nervous/angry people make mistakes.”

“Buzz(ing) of fluorescent lights.”

“I’ve devised a plan.”

“As he made his way to…”

“, what with…”

“We’re cut from the same cloth. You[third person]… were stitched together from a white flag.”

“Daylight’s a’wasting.”

“That’s a good reason, except it’s not.”

“You taught me to bury the dead!” (condemnation)

“We can avoid talking about this another time.”

“It was fun… until it wasn’t.”

“…been erased, yet the shadow remains.”

“He lingered by the door. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it, continuing to drum his fingers against the door’s wooden frame.”

“Instead, I let myself believe that you actually cared.”

“…under the deluge (of water/rain/etc.).”

“It buckled under his/the (ferocious) onslaught.”

“His breath caught.”

“He put a hand to his head, blinking the spots out of his eyes.”

“When have I ever __?” He remarked. “Don’t answer that.”

“…wrinkled his nose.”

“…got too grisly.”

“…in and of itself.”

“It was child’s play.”

“…(I’ll be back) before you know it.”

“She and my mom ran in some of the same circles.”

“…spent the night poring over ____.”

“I would know.”

“…but beggars couldn’t be choosers.”

“…barely fazed her.”

“…hissed in pain.”

“…went back to lazily kicking his feet in the air.”

“…with ___ in tow.”

“…slathered it with honey.”

“…riddled with bullet holes.”

“…nearly wrenched out of its socket.”

“His stomach was tying itself in knots.”

“His stomach churned.”

“His muscles/arm(s)/leg(s) screamed in protest.”

“He said, biting out each word like it had personally offended him.”

“His head pounded with every belabored step.”

“He chose not to/refused to/didn’t dignify that with a response.”

“I’ve kinda fell out of it, honestly.”

“He balked at the price.”

“It sort of fell by the wayside.”

“He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.”

“Strangers lived where his childhood ghost once walked.”

“…lifted/raised his chin defiantly.”

“The one saving grace is that…”

“That’s not how ____ work.” “Could be.” “…”

“A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” -“I think so?”

“…But I’m feeling generous today.”

“…to stop himself from saying something he’d regret.”

“…laughing too hard to dodge properly.”

“…he blurted out.”

“As the afternoon drew on towards evening…”

“…’cause you haven’t unclenched since age ___.”

“…drawing a glowing path atop the waves.”

“Today had been nice.”

“It was pretty great.”

“…is still a languid puddle of a man.”

“…sprawled out on his back.”

“…flipped him off with a cheery smile.”

“One good thing about the ocean is that it is made of water, which is wet.”

“She flowed to her feet.”

“He blinked at her.”

“This is such an insult. I’m insulted.”

“…for a minute, he forgot…”

“…but…that didn’t seem so bad.”

“…balanced precariously on his chair.”

“He moved like water, effortless and bold.”

“Wait a damn minute.”

“Your brain works in weird ways.”

“In his defense…”

“His cheeks darkened.”

“Whoop-de-freaking/fucking/dang/damn-doo.”

“…way too cute for its own good.”

“Well, now,…”

“‘I’ve got this.’” -New Chapter / Line Break- “He definitely did not have this.”

“…wrought-iron fence.”

“…as fragile as spun glass.”

“Score one for _____!”

“They’re playing fast and loose with…”

“…grinning like an idiot.”

“He raised a single, devastating eyebrow.”

As an opening line: “_____ was smaller than he remembered.”

“Oh my god, you did.”

“…agreed/nodded fervently.”

“…from the light of the muzzle flashes.”

“…said under his breath.”

“…stage-whispered.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“I’m ready to go, but I’m not ready to, you know, be gone.”

“…pinched the bridge of his nose.”

“…squawked in protest.”

“…in half as many ____.”

“…slumped in his chair.”

“Naturally.”

“There are matters I must attend to.”

“It seemed prudent to stay in their good graces.”

“The color drained from his face.”

“He ducked his head.”

“…incandescent rage.”

“…ruddy cheeks.”

“Without knowing what he was doing, ____ agreed/listened/tugged.”

“Oh, for—you think…”

“…the tide lapping at his feet.”

“All at once, he felt his anger melt away.”

“His anger melted away all at once.”

“All the anger—that rage, that fire—rushed out of him. In its place, all that remained was a hollow pit.”

“…but I’d bet the farm that…”

“He watched in silent terror.

-She swung / pulled the trigger / pressed the button.

-And terror turned to horror.”

“…with a cheshire grin.”

“I understand. Really, I do. But…”

“Like a drop of oil on the surface of a lake.”

“Hello, old friend.”

“There you are, old friend.”

“There you are.”

“In all likelihood…”

“I burned the wool that covered my eyes.”

“A story may become truth, but it never begins as truth.”

“A great many changes come about from belief in a lie.”

“To become better, one must first believe the lie that one can be better.”

“We all lie to ourselves, you more than most.”

“You are not the kind to walk into a minefield with naught but prayers on your lips. But left deaf and blind, what else can you do?”

“All I want(ed) is/was to…”

“A teller of tall tales laid low.”

“Seize him/her/them!”

“Curse you infernal wretches!”

“Must I do everything myself?”

“Unhand me!”

“‘You know nothing of pain.’ He smiled. ‘But you will.’”

“What is it?

-Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You sanctimonious asshole!”

“Not enough to feel like it matters, but enough that how I feel doesn’t.”

“You’ve got ice in your veins. I like that.”

“There’s a certain freedom in knowing when something’s out of your hands.”

“I would not welcome death. But I do not know if I would have the strength to fight it.”

“A world and a word of difference stand only a letter’s breadth apart.”

“I’d rather keep to my own misbegotten patch of city.”

“If that be/is the price I must pay, then I have coin to spare.”

“Give ____ my regards.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I doubt that.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“…he said ruefully.”

“You’re much too young to be telling people things you think they need to hear.”

“You’re trying to _____.

-Is it working?”

“I need some fresh air.”

“…he spat ____’s name like a curse.”

“I refuse to believe otherwise.”

“I don’t make the rules, I simply set the stage.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“When I find out, I’ll let you know.”

“You leapt at the chance…”

“We’ll talk about this later.”

“Their blood is on your/my hands.”

“This guy walks in off the street and thinks he can…?”

“I have problems, same as anyone else.”

“You’re right about that, at least.”

“…and vice versa.”

“He wordlessly moved out of the way.”

“Stand. Aside.”

“…he said carefully.”

“And what of/about you?”

“Where will you go?”

“He turned to her with pleading eyes.”

“…sent a jet of flame roaring past…”

“He gasped for air.”

“For what it’s worth…”

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage.”

“…put his fist through the door.”

“…pumped his fist in the air.”

“Be the bigger person.”

“…as befits someone of your station/status.”

“Welcome back to the land of the living, __.”

“Seize him/her/them!”

“Unhand me!”

“Godspeed.”

“A word of advice…”

“…if you catch my meaning.”

“Luckily for you…”

“You’re going to catch cold if you stay out here.”

“I’m/You’re/He’s every bit the ___ you are.”

“He tried his damnedest to…”

“I cannot tolerate loose ends.”

“If push comes to shove…”

“Life waits for no man.”

“Ugh… What happened?”

“Let’s see you wriggle (your way) out of this/that (one).”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Don’t be naïve.”

“…so let’s not and say we did.”

“Where ____ failed, ____ may yet prevail.”

“…or close to it.”

“Please accept this token of my appreciation.”

“Out of the mouth of babes.”

“The crowd was stunned into silence.”

“He loved her in a way that no one should ever call ‘love’.”

“I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

“He flew like an arrow shot from a bow.”

“Tell that to (my)…”

“Be that as it may…”

“You’re better off not knowing.”

“You’re in no position to make demands.”

“You sound just like him.”

“Do I/you/we have a choice?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“I have accepted what will come. But there is no peace in that, nor will there be.”

“I’d rather make a mistake with you than play it safe with anyone else.”

“He feigned surprise.”

“At last we agree on something.”

“You’re coming with me.”

“Much has changed in your absence / while you were away.”

“[cutting off other character’s rambling self-blame] Stop.”

“Please, you have to believe me!”

“…that familiar thrum of energy beneath his skin.”

“You have space in your heart for everyone in the world… and none left for yourself.”

“It’s so easy to suffer alone.”

“The distinction, fine as it may be, carries quite a bit of weight.”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“You cling so tight to that old version of me, I’ll leave you behind.”

“Mercy makes you good, but it does not make you right.”

“The words fall through my fingers like sand through an hourglass.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

[maria021015]

“You know, this is probably the most peace I’ve gotten since my Mom died,” Isaac laughed to himself humourlessly as he pondered, staring up at the same blank ceiling he’d been looking at for days now. “Life was certainly all downhill from then on. After Mom died and my brother Camden enlisted in the army - only to be killed in action months later - I never knew a day of peace. I was left alone with my grieving father whose sorrow quickly gave way to anger. Anger at fate, anger at the world, and anger at me."

Only a slow, steady beep of a machine answered him, but he kept talking. There wasn’t much else to do when he was stuck lying in a hospital bed all night and day. “Then I met Derek Hale, who promised it would all go away with the power of a bite. A bite that thrust me into a world of pack wars and supernatural monsters and death. A world that seemed less lonely with Boyd and Erica. Now I’m the only one left.” Isaac sighed heavily, blinking at the expanse of cream paint as he heard a familiar pattern of footsteps approach.

“But it led me to Zaida, and to Scott - to a new family.” The werewolf raised his volume pointedly as the nurse slipped a file into the folder at his door. “A family who are out there fighting while I’m stuck here doing absolutely nothing!”

“We’ve been over this, Isaac,” Melissa McCall shook her head. “You’re not getting out of here until I say you are.”

“See what I mean?” Isaac turned to the man in the bed beside him as Scott’s mother left to attend to her other patients. “You know, you are a lot easier to talk to when you’re unconscious.”

Xander Callis remained unresponsive, as he had been since they had wheeled him in the day before after an intensive surgery. Melissa refused to comment on Xander’s condition, but Isaac knew the fact that he hadn’t woken up yet was worrying.

“If Zaida were here she’d be berating you for sleeping all day. ‘You can rest when you’re dead’, she’d say. But you’re not dead. You’re not. So you better wake up soon.” Isaac could practically hear the words as her voice struggled to remain steady. His muscles jittered anxiously as the minutes ticked by, waiting for a sign that the man would be okay.

He was so busy watching Xander’s dark features earnestly, awaiting any kind of movement, to notice a lone fly buzzing into the room. The bug landed and crawled between the pieces of tape holding together the cannula and trocar needles that were currently delivering intravenous fluids into Isaac’s arm. As the creature entered his body, his eyes widened and flashed a golden yellow.

“Thanks for letting me stay…” Kira stood in the middle of Scott’s bedroom, grateful that the boy had brought her here instead of taking her home. Home, to her parents who had lied to her for seventeen years. Right now, she found that she felt the safest around the werewolf instead. “I just didn't want to go home yet. I feel like I don't even know them anymore.”

“I can loan you a t-shirt, if you want…” Scott offered as he looked through one of his drawers, recognising that the girl’s clothes might be uncomfortable to sleep in.

“I'm okay.” Kira shrugged, brushing off the offer.

“Take the bed. I'll sleep in the chair.” He gestured towards the mattress, and the kitsune complied while he crossed the room to drop into the armchair beside her. The same armchair he’d slept in that night after Heather’s party when he’d brought Zaida home. His mind wandered to the girl and how Lydia and the twins were going with watching over the naiad. They’d decided shift work would be their best option, with Deaton set to take over at some point in the night. So deep in his own mind, Scott didn’t notice Kira was staring at him until she shifted slightly on the bed opposite him. “You okay?”

“Scott…I don't want you to sleep in the chair,” Kira said softly, and it brought a smile to Scott’s face.

“I've woken up plenty of times in this thing, it's okay.” He assured her, assuming that she was concerned about his comfort and the state he would be in come morning.

“Please don't sleep in the chair…” Kira insisted, something subtly shifting in her tone. Scott’s eyebrows raised as he realised what she was really asking him.

“Oh,” He blinked at her, unsure of what to say. For a moment, he considered joining the kitsune, until a different face flashed across his memory. A girl with long brown hair, and big doe eyes, and a bright smile framed by dimples. A girl who had shared this very bed with him. And though it felt like lifetimes away now, he still found there was a flame alight inside of him, hoping that one day she would look at him the same way again. That one day, Allison would come back to him. It was for that reason that he stuttered, “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Is it because of her? Allison?” Kira asked, but there was no offence in her tone. She was merely curious. “I know you two used to date.”

“And if it is because of her…?” Scott trailed off, not wanting to hurt Kira’s feelings. He liked her, he really did. But she wasn’t Allison.

“I think it’s sweet how much you care about her,” The kitsune smiled in acceptance. “She really cares about you too, you know. Even if she tries not to show it.”

“We should probably get some sleep,” Scott’s body sagged in relief as fatigue set in, his thoughts once again travelling to his two friends and the spirit inhabiting them. “I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”

“We’re going to save them. Both of them,” Kira assured him as his eyes drifted shut, both unaware of the fly landing on the window sill. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Dad?” Allison broke the tense silence that had fallen between her and her father since leaving Derek’s loft. There was something she hadn’t quite been able to shake. The man simply hummed in response whilst unlocking the door to the apartment. “Were you really gonna pull the trigger on Stiles?”

“To be honest...I'm not sure.” Argent shook his head slightly and pushed open the door, allowing Allison to walk into the dark hallway before him.

“I'd check the firing pin…” Allison set her jaw, looking up at him with an almost unreadable gaze. She understood her father’s reasoning, but she also couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment. She believed there was still hope. Hope for Stiles. Hope for Zaida. Hope that everything would once again be okay. That was something she and Scott had always shared, and something that had always set her apart from the rest of her family.

“You removed it?” Chris asked, and now it was Allison’s turn to hum with a nod. To her surprise, her father wasn’t mad. He reached out to hold her face with a proud glow behind his eyes. “That's why the women are the leaders in our family. Get some sleep, sweetheart.”

Allison smiled lightly, ducking into her bedroom and dropping her bag of gear on the floor quietly only to realise there was an outline of a person sitting on the edge of her bed, illuminated by the moonlight. She recognised that set of broad shoulders and unruly mop of wavy hair. Her heart jumped from the surprise of seeing Isaac, but also in joy that he was okay. He’d stepped into that electrified mess of water to help her, after all, and it had weighed heavily on her consciousness since.

“What are you doing here?” She asked him, hurrying to his side and scanning his torso for any sign of the burns that had marred his skin only days prior.

“I thought I'd come see you.” He replied, his gaze somewhere far away. He still didn’t seem entirely his usual self, and it made Allison doubt whether Melissa would have finally approved his release.

“You didn't just walk out of the hospital, did you?” She clarified, and he did not confirm or deny her suspicions.

“It's okay. I feel a lot better.” Isaac’s lips tugged upwards into a soft smile at the concern behind her furrowed brows. “All healed.”

“Giving you the alarm code was a bad idea…” Allison mumbled as the thought crossed her mind. If her father knew he was here…If Scott knew…

“Maybe…” Isaac whispered and leaned in, his eyes flickering towards her lips as he misunderstood the sentiment behind her statement.

For a moment Allison froze, unsure of what to do as her heart hammered in her chest. It was difficult for her to identify or even quite understand the flurry of emotions rushing through her. Relief that he was okay. Guilt at having been the reason why he’d been harmed that night at the hospital in the first place. Indebted to him for protecting her. Admittable attraction. Apprehension. It was all so overwhelming.

“What’s wrong?” Isaac registered her hesitation, reading the war being fought behind her doe eyes. “Is it because of Scott?”

Was it because of Scott? Yes. And no. Allison liked Isaac. He’d been there for her more than anyone else over the past weeks and they’d formed a steadily growing friendship. He was undoubtedly attractive, and funny, and brave, and he liked her. But she wasn’t in love with Isaac. Not like she was in love with Scott. Her lips faltered, unable to voice her answer. How could she tell him when he’d just spent days recovering from a life-threatening injury he’d acquired because of her.

“You know Scott’s with Kira right now. And I can guarantee you, Scott isn’t thinking about you.” The werewolf’s gaze darkened, inching ever closer.

Scott was with Kira? The two had been spending an awful lot of time together as of late, and Allison saw how Kira looked at him. She also saw how Scott looked at the kitsune. She recognised it because he used to look at her that way, when she’d catch his eyes across the hallway before ever knowing his name. So why should she hold back when he clearly wasn’t? Why should she wait for something that might never eventuate?

So when Isaac leaned further once more, she allowed him to close the gap between their lips.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked in a sharp tone as he stepped across the living space of the loft, watching his nephew upturn a bag of chess pieces onto a board. Derek didn’t so much as blink as he arranged the pieces, his shoulder and back still a mess of ruined flesh. “And, more importantly, why aren't you healing?”

“It's from one of their swords.” He answered, referring to the Oni. “It'll heal.”

“By playing chess?” Peter drawled sarcastically.

“Back in his room, Stiles had a board with my name on one of the pieces. If this is a game to him, then I need to figure out the plays.” Derek huffed gruffly, irritated by his uncle’s presence.

“Not so easy to do when it's a game without rules…” The older werewolf commented cryptically and began pushing pieces into place on the board.

“What does that mean?” Derek questioned, his brows drawing together.

“You're dealing with the kind of spirit that's lived too long to play by human rules. It's a fox spirit that chose to become human - and supposedly, that's something they can do only after about one hundred years. If a Kitsune is an annoying pain-in-the-ass, then a Nogitsune, which is a dark Kitsune, is a freaking disaster.” Peter scoffed and then shrugged on his jacket once the pieces were all in their correct places. “Besides, chess is Stiles' game. It's not the game of a Japanese Fox.”

Derek gazed down at the board in deep thought, considering his uncle’s words. Peter walked around him, headed to leave the loft, and his eyes landed on the gaping wound in Derek’s shoulder once more. “Do yourself a favour and put something on that...before it gets infected.” The werewolf advised. Derek watched him go, not even feeling it when a fly landed on his open flesh and crawled beneath his skin.

“I gotta say, you definitely did well out there. You'll definitely make the team next spring. I mean, if you want to…” Danny grinned at Ethan, his chest still heaving from heavy breathing as he and Ethan entered the locker room.

“I want to,” Ethan confirmed absent-mindedly, riffling through his bag to pull out a towel that he hung around his neck to absorb some of the sweat glistening over his skin.

It had been a rigorous practice and exactly what he’d needed to keep his mind off what was currently going on across town in the basement of the electrical plant. Deaton was watching over Zaida now whilst Aiden and Lydia caught up on some sleep. It had been a gruelling night with the three of them struggling to bear the sounds of Zaida’s screams and taunts as the Nogitsune fought to break free. When he and Aiden had left Deucalion’s pack, Ethan had thought it would be the start of a new life for them. A normal life. But nothing seemed to stay normal for long in Beacon Hills.

“Everything okay?” Danny questioned, picking up on the distant tone in the other boy’s voice.

“Yeah. I mean…” Ethan pursed his lips, twisting open the tap and letting the cold water run. “I kind of don't know if this is the place for me. For us.”

The werewolf cupped his hands below the tap, allowing them to fill with sparkling liquid before splashing it over his face, not catching sight of the fly that had landed in it. “I mean, is this about you leaving school again?” Danny’s brows furrowed in worry, guessing at what might be plaguing Ethan. “Is it about your brother?”

“It is, actually…” The werewolf’s voice darkened as he rose from the sink, a sudden surge of anger and resentment overcoming him. “It's always about my brother, isn't it?”

“You all right?” Danny instantly noticed the sudden shift in his demeanour but was quickly distracted by Ethan tugging his shirt over his head.

“I think I'm just going to take a shower,” Ethan grumbled.

“Okay…” The other boy brushed off the strangeness of the werewolf’s attitude.

“So are you,” Ethan added, rather forcefully, and Danny was taken aback.

“Okay,” He answered, more enthusiastically this time.

“How is she?” Lydia asked Deaton as she and Aiden approached the heavy door he was waiting beside.

“She should be almost there,” The veterinarian nodded grimly, his face weary from the hours spent listening to the blood-curdling shrieks from inside the locked room.

“Hey,” Aiden caught Lydia by the wrist before she could enter the sealed basement from where they could already hear the echo of Zaida’s pained screams. His forehead creased in concern for the redhead. “Be careful in there.”

Lydia couldn’t bring herself to speak, so instead she simply nodded, and twisted the handle. Zaida’s voice only grew louder once the door opened and Lydia ventured into the darkness and towards the eerie red glow of the centre of the room. The darkness was not the only thing that was suffocating. The thick heat in the air immediately coaxed beads of sweat to form over Lydia’s skin. Zaida was slouched on the floor exactly where they had left her last night. Her shoulders were hunched over, her legs curled in and her head sagging as she bellowed. The naiad’s dark, soaking-wet hair was plastered to her face and neck like a second skin. In the dim red light, Lydia could just barely make out the girl’s eyes. They were wild, flickering between the icy cold of the Nogitsune’s control and a desperate, pleading gaze that was all too familiar. Lydia approached cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest. Upon hearing the clack of heels against the concrete floor, the screaming stopped and gave way to deep, manic laughter.

“Zaida,” Lydia called out, her voice steady but soft, hoping to reach the part of her friend that was still inside.

Zaida’s head snapped up, her expression shifting to one of feigned relief as tears welled and spilled. “Lydia, thank God. Please, you have to help me. It...it hurts. It hurts so bad. Please, you have to let me go.” She sobbed, her chest heaving beneath the heavy chains that had left red welts on her exposed skin.

But Lydia knew better this time. Her instincts screamed that something was off. She had seen this trick before - the way the Nogitsune twisted and manipulated, using Zaida’s face and voice to incite pity and guilt. “You’re not fooling me this time,” She said, stepping closer but maintaining a safe distance. “I know it’s you.”

The false relief on Zaida’s face swiftly twisted into a snarl of anger, lashing out impatiently. “When I get free, I’m going to kill you,” The Nogitsune hissed, her voice dripping with venom. “I’m going to rip that pretty porcelain skin off your body inch by inch while you writhe in pain. Then I’ll go after Allison and finish what I started. Her blood will boil from the inside out until there’s nothing left.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Lydia’s resolve hardened, her jaw locking as she hid her unease behind a stubborn mask. “Because we aren’t going to give up until you are gone and Zaida is back where she belongs.”

The Nogitsune’s eyes flared with a sinister light, and Zaida’s body tensed, straining against the chains. “You think you can save her? When I’m done with her, there won’t be anything left to save.” The girl chuckled darkly, but Lydia could see the pain behind those hazel eyes. She could see her friend shining through in flickers of agony.

“Zay, we aren’t going to give up on you.” Lydia stepped closer, her voice unwavering as she leaned down to Zaida’s height. “You never gave up on us. Not when I thought I was going crazy. Not when Allison lost herself.”

“Zay is gone,” The Nogitsune mocked, but as the seconds passed and the heat became more and more unbearable, those flickers of Zaida became moments. “She is suffering.”

Relinquishing control, a guttural screech burst forth from Zaida’s throat and her posture shifted. The naiad’s head tipped back, exposing her glistening throat as she swallowed thickly, struggling to stifle the sounds of her own pain. For a moment, the wildness in Zaida’s eyes seemed to abate. She blinked rapidly, as if trying to clear her vision. “Lyds,” She whispered, her voice strained and desperate. “Just end it. Please, please…end it. I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. Please!”

Lydia shook her head, blinking as her own tears fell, mingling with the sweat that now soaked her skin. “I can’t do that, Zaida. We need you. Stiles needs you. If we can’t figure out a way to save him…we’re going to have to kill him.” The redhead urgent her best friend. “We need you. You have to fight it.”

With another loud outcry, Zaid’s eyes narrowed as she panted, sucking in ragged breaths of sweltering air. “She’s not yours anymore!” The Nogitsune growled, but Lydia could see the malevolent spirit’s control slipping.

Zaida was drowning. The water engulfing her was like pins and needles against her numb skin. The unforgiving sea swirled around her in wild currents that tugged and pulled at her from every direction. The waves rose and fell violently, tossing her about like a leaf in a storm. She struggled to keep her head above water, her limbs heavy and sluggish, but every time she broke the surface and gasped for air, something pulled her back down into the abyss of the endless black ocean. Beneath the surface, countless hands with mottled flesh reached up from the darkness, grabbing at her ankles, her wrists, her clothes, dragging her deeper into the inky depths. She kicked and thrashed, fighting with every ounce of strength she had, but the hands were relentless. They pulled her down again, and again, their grip like iron.

Lydia’s words echoed through the water, muffled but just barely discernible. “Zaida, we need you. Stiles needs you.” The sound sent vibrations through the water, tiny ripples that seemed to push back against the hands holding her. She could feel a glimmer of hope, a spark of determination igniting within her. Maybe she wasn’t lost just yet.

Then came Stiles' unmistakable voice, clearer and stronger than Lydia’s, reverberating through the water with a powerful force. “You’re my anchor, Zay. When I said that I need you, and that I want you, I meant it. In every sense of the words.” The vibrations from his words were like shockwaves, shaking some of the hands loose from her body. With a newfound strength, Zaida fought harder, kicking and clawing her way to the surface.

She broke through to the icy air once more, gulping in deep breaths as the waves crashed around her. This time, she didn’t let the hands pull her back down. She kept fighting, her limbs burning with exhaustion but driven by refreshed motivation. She swam towards a distant bank she could barely make out in the darkness, the outline of land a faint promise of salvation.

Every stroke was a battle, but she refused to give in. Slowly, agonizingly, she made her way closer to the shore. The water grew shallower, the hands weaker and fewer, until finally, she crawled out onto the sands of a beach. She lay there for a moment, her body trembling with fatigue, the cool air a stark contrast to the oppressive water. It was the fear still potent in her bones that forced Zaida to move, pushing one hand in front of the other, dragging herself across the sand. The grains rough beneath her palms eventually grew sparse, giving way to smooth, white marble floor tiles beneath her fingers. She looked up and found herself in the familiar corridor inside her mind, lined with a multitude of different doors. Doors that she knew.

The corridor was dimly lit, the air heavy with a sense of foreboding. Towards the end where the walls disappeared into darkness, a figure stood. Its posture was hunched, its shadow bulky. The Nogitsune turned to stare at her, wrapped in its bandages, standing like a sentinel between her and Stiles’ open door. Its mouth gaped open, baring rows upon rows of sharp, silver teeth and black goop. Her heart bashing against the cage of her ribs, Zaida pushed herself to her feet, every muscle in her body screaming in protest. She took a step forward, then another, her eyes locked on the Nogitsune. The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, but she kept moving.

The Nogitsune watched her approach, its smile widening as she drew closer. “Zaida…” It taunted her in a haunting melody. “What has a mouth but doesn’t speak?”

Zaida didn’t respond. Her fingers tingled by her sides, buzzing with energy she had thought she’d lost access to. On the outside maybe, but in here? It was her mind, she could do whatever she damn well pleased. “What has a mouth but doesn’t speak?” The Nogitsune’s voice grew louder - angrier - with each step she took towards him, closing the distance between them. Between her and the door to Stiles’ mind - the barrier that would keep the Nogitsune contained.

Her face broke into a smirk as the answer came to her loud and clear, and the sound of rushing water echoed through the space as the lights flickered overhead. Gathering all of her might, she thrust her arms forward and water splashed around her ankles as it rushed past her, parting like the Red Sea. The river of pressure crashed into the Nogitsune, pushing it backwards step by step as the weight of the water grew and the hallways filled.

“We will kill them all!” The Nogitsune threatened, furiorus as it was forced backwards beyond that open doorway. She could feel the creature’s presence being pushed out, its grip over her loosening. “Every last one!”

There was a loud slam as the heavy door shut and the lock clicked into place. The wood groaned and bent under heavy fist-falls from the other side as the Nogitsune yelled to be let back in. Instead, Zaida stepped forward as the water lapped at her thighs, slowly draining. Pressing her palm flat against the ornate door, water trickled up and over the edges, hardening to a thick frost that sealed the structure shut. Soon after, even the knocking faded away and the corridor grew silent.

Zaida’s body went limp, held up only by the chains binding her to the pole at her back like a mast. Her breathing deepened, head lolling with exhaustion as the screaming and convulsing finally stopped. The sound of the girl’s soft sobs replaced it, and Lydia felt the shift. It was as though a dark presence had left the room. “Zaida?” She questioned, remaining cautious as she inched closer and brushed back the matted hair stuck to her face.

Zaida looked up at her with hollow eyes, face gaunt and plagued with guilt, pain and relief. She did not speak, but she did not need to for Lydia to know that this was most certainly her best friend. “Aiden! Come and help me!” The redhead yelled over her shoulder for the werewolf.

The door to the basement chamber burst open with a booming clatter and heavy footsteps echoed off the walls as Aiden rushed in. “What? What did she do?” His brown eyes were wide with worry until they fell upon an entirely unharmed Lydia. The redheaded girl was attempting to prop Zaida up, her own skin glowing with sweat from the overwhelming heat of the room.

“She did it. Zaida did it,” Lydia exclaimed, her voice overflowing with joy. “Help me get rid of these chains!”

Aiden moved quickly, his strong hands making short work of the chains binding Zaida. As the last shackle fell away, Zaida collapsed forward into Lydia's waiting arms. Lydia held her tightly, tears streaming down her face as she whispered words of comfort. "It's okay, Zaida. You're safe now. We’re going to get you out of here." The Banshee whispered.

"Lyds...I'm so sorry..." Zaida's voice was barely a hoarse whisper, her throat raw from the ordeal. She may be back in full control at last, but she remembered every second of when she had lost it. It remained like a fresh wound inside her chest, spurting blood with every beat of her heart.

"Shh, don’t talk," Lydia soothed, brushing a hand through Zaida's tangled hair. "We're just glad you're back."

Aiden carefully lifted Zaida, whilst Lydia hurried to switch off all of the heaters that lined the space. The werewolf’s movements were surprisingly gentle despite his usual abrasive demeanour. Zaida was weak, her body trembling from the strain it had endured. "We need to move quickly," Aiden said, glancing at Lydia. "Get her to a water source.”

Lydia nodded, wiping her tears away. "Let's go." She crossed the room and held the door open for Aiden to carry Zaida through.

Deaton had left some time ago, leaving them to weave through the substation alone. They moved as swiftly as they could through the dark corridors, Aiden carrying Zaida while Lydia kept watch over the girl. The sense of urgency was palpable, but so was the relief. She had her best friend back, and nothing else felt like it mattered as much as that. As they reached the exit, the bright sun greeted them and its warmth was eased by a cool wind that soothed Zaida’s flushed skin.

"Thank you," Zaida whispered, her voice growing slightly stronger now as she fought to keep her eyes open. Her gaze locked onto Lydia from over Aiden’s shoulder. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

"Never.” Lydia’s painted lips pulled into a tight smile.

“Turn right onto Lincoln Road and continue for half a mile.” The robotic voice of the GPS blurred in Lydia’s ears as she drove her blue Toyota.

“Lydia, where are we going?” Aiden questioned as the redhead turned the wheel, driving smoothly around the corner so as to not jostle the barely conscious Zaida in the backseat.

“We’re going to Scott's,” The redhead answered with a flicker of confusion. Where else would they be going?

“I don’t think we are…” The werewolf murmured as he stared out the passenger side window at the unfamiliar streets.

“Why do you think that?” Lydia challenged with an arched brow, slightly on edge due to the stress of the day.

“'Cause you just made your fourth right - and four rights make a circle,” Aiden explained with a matter-of-fact attitude.

“I did not!” Lydia retorted, glancing back at Zaida, who was very slowly healing. Her skin was returning to its natural olive hue instead of the fire-engine red it had been earlier. “...Did I? It's a brand-new car. The GPS was fine before…”

“Maybe the GPS would work better if it was on,” Aiden suggested, gesturing to the black screen in the centre console of the vehicle.

“What?” Lydia snapped in irritation until her eyes followed his gesture to see that the GPS screen was indeed blank. Pressing the buttons of the GPS with frantic motions, the car began to speed up.

“Lyds, what’s going on?” Zaida piped up from the backseat, feeling her stomach twist uncomfortably in reaction to the duo’s conversation. She was still largely disoriented, dehydrated and overwhelmed by emotion, despite having barely any access to her powers after having them practically burned out of her.

“Are you okay?” Aiden asked the banshee. If Zaida was feeling well, she would tell him that Lydia obviously wasn’t okay, but as it stood she did not have the energy.

“I need to stop,” The redhead stated forcibly, making a panicked and sharp turn into a parking lot. “I need to pull over right now!”

Zaida’s head whacked into the car door from the sudden lurch and Aiden yelled the girl’s name as she sped through the lot, headed straight for what looked like a collapsed figure on the ground. “Lydia, stop!” Aiden shouted and the breaks screeched as the redhead finally listened.

Zaida grunted as she jolted forward, her seatbelt cutting into her shoulder painfully. “What the hell?” The naiad mumbled as she rubbed her aching temple where she’d been slammed against hard leather.

“Stay here,” Lydia advised the girl, her tone shaky. Both she and Aiden threw their doors open, rushing out into the car park.

Zaida couldn’t explain the nauseating feeling in her gut as the duo came upon the unconscious body of Stiles just meters in front of where the car had stopped - and as an unseen fly crawled its way into Aiden’s ear.

[infoglitch]

Nexus: Ogre slayer [1/4]

(I accidentally be giving you all a sense that these uploads are going to be daily when they're not I'm just so bored and have nothing else to do so I'm just uploading this stuff.)

[Season 1] "new faces"

We see white. An infinite void as we then see a garden. Then a rose forms from the ground and blooms. Then a hand picks it up and we hear a voice. "It's beautiful like always.... I wish I knew where you were Cici..." The voice said as we cut to xander and Johnson hanging out eating some fry's and cheese burgers.

Xander had his head on his left hand. "Ugh I'm so fucking boooooooored." Xander groaned out. Johnson nodded and then grabbed one of his own fries and ate it. "When was the last time since we fought a ogre beast?" Xander asked. "Including this one that was 5 days ago." Johnson answered as he grabbed his burger and took a bite of it.

Xander ground again as he lifted his head from his hand and took his phone and started texting someone.

"Who the hell you texting? Your girlfriend?~" Johnson asked, "who are you my mom and no I'm texting someone I met on tinder" Xander said as he continued texting.

"Tinder? you met someone on tinder? Aren't you supposed to be 20 when you go on tinder" Johnson said and Xander just glared at him as he raised a fist and gave him the middle finger.

Johnson just flipped him off. Then they felt a small rumbling in the ground. Then I saw a portal open up and two people fire out of it and landed on the ground.

Johnson and Xander sprung up in Surprise and ran over to go help the two. "What the hell happened to them" Xander said as he looked at Johnson. "Don't know let's just get them to HQ so that way they can heal up they look pretty bad" Johnson said as he looked at the man of the two strangers who had scratch marks and bruises all over him as well as some burn marks.

Johnson grabbed the girl and xander grabbed the guy. The four headed to HQ and got them to the medical center part of the base.

When they got there and set the two in the hospital beds lander and Johnson waited in their seats.

Then one of the doctors came in. "How they doing doc?" Johnson asked As he stood up slightly concerned. "They're not in the greatest of shapes they have multiple cuts bruises some Burns but overall they're fine but they're blood it's, it's more dense than it should be" the doctor said.

"And how is that abnormal?" Johnson asked. The doctor took off his glasses and looked at Johnson. "Well Johnson in the Hunter's business we have to make sure a person's blood density is normal and that it hasn't been poisoned because whenever someone is poisoned their blood usually thickens which can also cause blood clots from time to time" the doctor said as Johnson nodded.

"So you're saying they could be poisoned?" Johnson asked. The doctor shook his head back and forth. "As much as I would like to say that's the answer it's not despite their blood being more dense than it should be for humans their blood circulation is still normal if not better it's as if they grew up in a completely different area and their bodies adapted to it. Not to mention their muscle strength we had to make a deep enough cut in their arms to draw blood" the doctor answered. Johnson side and relief "at least they're alive" he said.

After that the doctor said it would take a while for the two people that were brought into the infirmary to heal. Now we see Johnson standing next to his hover bike at T'jo's. He forgot it when he and Xander went to go help the two people. Johnson hopped on to his hover bike and started to rev up and drove off after all the hub up he still has yet to find him a nice house he's been living in the HQ barracks.

As he was about to drive off he heard the bell on the door of t'jo's chime. He turned around and saw a a girl probably 17 standing there with a back pack obviously to heavy for her own body on her back. Her body itself wasn't the most attractive, but for some reason just seeing her sparked something in Johnson, he'd say love at first sight but it was more of a, interest in the woman.

The girl looked around as if was trying to find some kind of vehicle but they only vehicle left was Johnson's hoverbike.

The girls sighed and started walking off but Johnson, who finally was able to do something spoke out, "oi! You need help?". The girl turned to look at him "uh no I'm fine-" the girl said before, "you think I'm a creep don't you" Johnson interrupted. The girl looked at him and slowly noded.

Johnson sighed, "you know I could hand you my bike. I got second one back where I came from" Johnson said. The girl went wide eyed. "T-thank you for the offer!" The girl said as she walked up to Johnson as he got off the bike and the girl hoped on.

"I promise to give it back to you as soon as I get my own vehicle." The girl said. "Nah keep it, you need it more than I do" Johnson replied as the girl took a moment to think and then noded.

"By the way what's your name stranger?" The girl asked. "Johnson, Johnson red. And you are?" Johnson answered. "Rilla greyber!" Rilla replied as she then started to rev the bike and drove off.

As she drove off Johnson sighed. Now to find a motorcycle shop.