#I feel like he would have been more prepared to deal with whatever Miguel had planned for him

[arachnicas]

It'd be really cool if Miles pulled a Hobie and learned how to make his own gizmo before the events of ATSV. Maybe it's not a watch but a bracelet of some kind, or he pulls a Rick & Morty and creates a little portal gun. Through trial and error, Miles successfully travels between different universes/dimensions/realities, exploring with wide-eyed wonder and geeking out like the adorable nerd he is.

#miles morales #across the spiderverse #if he'd done this the story would have gone differently #I feel like he would have been more prepared to deal with whatever Miguel had planned for him #and he wouldn't have felt so isolated and trapped within his own dimension while his friends got to dimension hop #miguel has a fit when he finds out about the fifteen-year-old spider kid who made a portal gun that rivals his watch #and that miles keeps tagging random locations and spray painting lol #anyways miles is just as much of a genius as the other spiders and would definitely invent something so as to not rely on a damned watch #makes him feel more independent #and less reliant on spider society #let the kid invent his own goobers!!

[purplesong1028]

Wrong in All the Right Ways

Chapter 7: The Mystery of Certainty

Amado arranges a meeting with Pacho, but it doesn’t go the way he anticipated, in more ways than one.

Rating: PG13

Paring: Amado/Miguel, Amado/Pacho

Words: 3,553

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34735498/chapters/98714280

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3   Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Pacho receives the phone call during his daily morning bath.

“Hola, buenos días.” The melodic northern Mexican accent is always amusing, but what makes him smile is the slight nervousness in the other man’s familiar voice. “It’s Amado, um, you remember?”

Oftentimes, Pacho doesn’t mind Manuel being here and listening in, but sometimes, like right now, he would prefer to have the conversation alone. Lucky for him, Manuel has gotten so good at knowing what he wants, that he doesn’t need to say anything at all.

“Of course I remember. It’s been a while though, right?” Pacho takes a lingering glance at his younger lover’s naked body as he gets out of the bath, still not tired of the beautiful sight after all these years. “So you opened my gift after all.”

“Yeah, things have been a little crazy here. Maybe you already know that…”

“It’s hard to not know, when it’s all over the news.” Pacho interrupts him, leisurely cups a handful of water and lets it slowly flow back down into the tub. “Listen Amado, we both know what this is about, so why don’t you just get to the point?”

“Alright.” It’s silent for a few seconds on the other end, then the voice becomes deeper, more serious. “It’s better to discuss this in person. Do you think we can meet? I can fly to Cali, if you want.”

“You mean that’s what you want,” Pacho scoffs lightly, making sure Amado can hear it, “but yes, I should be free tomorrow. Let me know before you take off. I’ll have someone pick you up at the airport.”

“Yeah, that’s great. Gracias.”

“See you soon, and…” Pacho gets distracted for a second looking at the young man bringing his shirt. What’s his name again? He’s new.

“And Amado? Come prepared.”

*

Amado slowly puts down the phone, unable to hide his confusion. Come prepared? Why did Pacho even feel the need to say that? Of course he’ll be fucking prepared! This is going to be the most crucial meeting he’s ever had in his life!

He looks up and meets Acosta’s inquisitive stare. The old man loves doing that: not saying anything, just looking at you until you give up on your own.

“You’re really not coming?”

“You know how I feel about these Colombians.” Acosta blows out a puff of thick smoke. “Besides, what do you have to worry about? If your story was true, I’m sure he’ll be nice to the guy who saved his life.”

“Don’t give me that! You still think I was bullshtting, right? That’s your problem!”

“I didn’t say that,” Acosta shrugs, “I wouldn’t send you if I think you’ll get your ass killed in Colombia.”

���Alright, so you’re saying what? You trust me to handle the meeting with Cali, and go behind Tijuana's back, all on my own?”

“You’re just like him. You know how to deal with this stuff.” Acosta lifts his hat and looks directly into Amado’s eyes, so serious that it almost feels accusing. They don’t need to clarify who he is. There’s a reason his name is unmentioned.

“If I leave Juárez, words might get out, and that will make others anxious. No one needs more of that shit right now.”

That actually makes a lot of sense, so Amado’s not going to argue. Come to think of it, he doesn’t know why he’s unhappy at all. Acosta trusts him enough to handle such an important matter alone, whatever the reason might be. That’s good, right? But why? Has he really earned it, or is it because he’s actually still dispensable? Or maybe he just doesn’t know if he’s ready to take on Pacho alone, and that stresses him out. Or, maybe it’s because he is more like Miguel than he thinks, and he doesn’t…can’t accept that.

“Look, dopey.” Acosta pinches the bridge of his nose, now looking a little annoyed. “This is your fucking idea! You don’t want the Arellanos to be the big boss; you got the number from Cali, so what the hell are you throwing a fuss about?!”

“You’re right, you’re right!” Amado puts up his hands, knowing it’s time to concede. “I’m just not looking forward to meeting the Colombians again, that’s all.” That’s a lie, but the truth at the same time, depending on how you look at it, but Acosta doesn’t have to know the context. “I’ll just go home and get a plane ready for tomorrow, yeah?”

Acosta just nods, and gives him a grunt that counts as a goodbye.

*

Amado calls Pacho’s number again the next morning at the small private airport in Juárez, but Navegante is the one to answer this time.

“Are you flying by yourself?”

“What?” Amado frowns, honestly confused by the question. Did he think they had no other pilot? “No, not this time. Why?”

“Just asking, doesn’t matter. Anyway, someone will be here. Safe travels, Señor Carrillo.” Then he hangs up before Amado could say thank you or goodbye.

Weird motherfucker.

“All ready to take off, sir!” Manny calls out from the plane.

“Did you bring the gift boxes?”

“Yeah we did.”

“Both the white one and the black one?”

“I have them right here!”

“Bueno.” Amado puts on his sunglasses. He doesn’t really need them since he’s not the pilot, but at this point it’s more of a psychological ritual. It makes him feel confident, prepared. It makes him feel like himself.

“Vamos!”

*

“So Felix isn’t even dead yet, Tijuana and Juárez are already fighting for the scraps?” Gilberto lets out a sneer. “Some Federación he has.”

“It’s good for us. More offers, more choices, play them against each other.” Pacho tries on a pair of obsidian cufflinks on his purple jacket. “Do you want to be at the meeting?”

“No, you can handle it. You always know how to deal with the Mexicans.” Gilberto glances at dozen pairs of cufflinks laid out on the wooden table. “Those silver ones work just fine. No one actually stares at your sleeves!”

Pacho laughs at the older man’s tease, but picks the silver pair anyway. “Don’t judge me. What’s the point of having nice things if you don’t enjoy them?”

“Wait a minute.” Gilberto freezes for a moment, and then his eyes light up like they always do whenever he figures out the key piece of a puzzle. “This is that fucking guy, isn’t it?! The one Félix sent to go to the club with you?”

Pacho sighs. Why is Gilberto always so fucking sharp on the worst matters? He’s not sure how exactly his face betrayed him, but Gilberto bursts out laughing at his frustration.

“You said someone gave you a call directly, right? You don’t give your number to random people.” Gilberto gestures at the extravagant display of jewelries in front of them. “Also, you never even tried that hard when you met with Félix, so if…”

“Por favor Gilberto.” Pacho breaks into a smile, shaking his head defeatedly, knowing he doesn’t stand a single chance with his older friend. “You’ve made your point clear.”

“But regardless,” Pacho closes the silver button around his sleeve, “there’s no need to be concerned. Business is business.”

“Of course I’m not concerned, hermanito. It’s interesting, that’s all!” Gilberto looks at his watch, “Well, I’m off to have lunch with some senators. Just let me know what Juárez wants after you’re done with…whatever you’re doing.”

Pacho smartly decides to let that one go.

*

The flight to Cali is not very long, but it feels dreaded out with conflicted feelings of nervousness and anticipation. This could turn out terribly. Why would Pacho accept a proposal from him? Sure, being the number two leader of Juárez is a big deal, but compared to a Godfather of Cali? He’s nobody. But this could also turn out great. This could be the kind of big break everyone in this business can only dream of. Maybe this is it; maybe it’s happening for him. But then there’s also something else, something completely irrelevant to business and it’s too dangerous to even let his mind wander there. Amado looks down at the white gift box sitting on his lap, still so flawless, so exquisite, just like its owner…well, previous owner. He’s kept it for so long but only took it out a few times, never dared to try it on. So why did he bring it back to Cali now?

The plane shakes a little as they start to descend, preparing for landing, pulling him out of these useless thoughts. Amado looks out the tiny window, and the scenery is simply breathtaking: bright sunlight reflecting off the dark blue ocean, and on the other side, mountains extending into the edge of crystal clear sky. It’s so much more beautiful than the boring desert in Juárez, just the perfectly fertile soil for the sinister coca plant. They come to a smooth landing, maybe not as well as Amado could have done, but someone who isn’t a pilot wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. After all, when it comes to flying, he only wants the best.

This airport in Cali doesn’t look so different from the one they have in Juárez, both small and private. Nobody’s here beside the two black SUVs waiting by the end of the runway. Amado takes a deep breath and stands up from his seat, putting his sunglasses back on.

This is it.

*

“Bienvenidos, Señor Carrillo Fuentes.” A young man steps out of the vehicle, greeting him with a bright smile.

Amado nods at him and glances around: there are only two of them, one driver for each car, the bare minimum. Honestly, he doesn’t know what to make of that: it could be a great sign, or a terrible one. Also, he can’t help but notice both of them are extremely good looking. So the rumors are correct. Pacho really doesn’t have any sense of propriety, does he?

“Excuse me, do you mind?” The other man approaches Manny and gestures at the two boxes he’s holding.

“These are just gifts!” Amado interrupts immediately, which makes it even more suspicious, but he doesn’t care. If they open the boxes right here and take out that silk bathrobe, he’d get right back into the plane and fly his ass back to Mexico. “Better leave them unopened, no?”

“Of course.” The man takes the boxes from Manny’s hands, never breaking the polite smile, yet his eyes speak of indisputable insistence. “We will return them to you with the same packaging. This is just our standard security measure. Please understand.”

Amado hides his frustration, knowing he doesn’t have another option here. He wonders if this is what they were specifically instructed to do. Maybe this is precisely the point Pacho’s trying to make, to show him who has the upper hand the second he steps onto Cali’s territory. Either way, there’s no point wasting more time here; he hasn’t even reached his final destination yet. Amado gets in the car that’s been held open for him, letting silence be his defiance.

*

Amado thought they would drive into the city. He doesn’t know why; maybe because he’s still used to Miguel’s hotel in Guadalajara, but apparently the Godfather of Cali has a different kind of taste for luxury. They didn’t drive towards the skyscrapers, but rather went around them to the other side, going directly into the mountains he saw earlier from the sky. They always look different on the ground, so magnificent, so immensely peaceful. Is Miguel hiding at somewhere like this right now? Would this be the final tranquility every man longs for, before the end comes?

They pull into a driveway hidden behind thick bushes, where several guards approach them. Their driver rolls down the window and exchanges a few rounds pleasantries with them before driving through. The trees gradually thin out, revealing a horse ranch. Navegante is waiting at the end of the road. Of course he is.

“Welcome, Señor Carrillo.” He briefly pats Amado down, “please follow me.”

One of the drivers gets out of the car with the two gift boxes, “Sir, do you want to take these with you now?”

Amado turns to look at Navegante. What if he’s going to be at the meeting too? That makes sense, right? He’s the security. Amado imagines this weirdo smiling creepily when Pacho opens the gift boxes…oh no fucking way!

“No, you can leave them with the luggage. Thanks.”

*

Navegante leads him through a pebble road in the middle of a beautiful garden, where a nice little greenhouse is sitting, surrounded by exotic flowers. It’s actually not little at all, bigger than many people’s entire apartments, but it appears small compared to the main structure of this mansion on the other side of the garden.

Nobody needs to live like this. But also, who wouldn’t want to live like this? Isn’t this why they get into the business and risk their lives?

Pacho looks up and smiles at them as they enter, and for a brief moment, Amado is shocked by the deception of it all. When Pacho’s just sitting under the sun and sipping a glass of white wine, not making threats or killing people, he almost doesn’t look like who he’s supposed to be. There’s no malice, no violence on the outside, just pure elegance and charm, like a prince in his royal castle.

Maybe this is what Miguel has wanted to become, since the very beginning.

Navegante nods at Pacho, and walks back out of the door. So they are meeting alone after all.

“Have a seat. I know you like whisky, but I thought Chardonnay would be more suitable for today’s weather, right?”

Amado literally doesn’t even know how that’s spelled, but he just nods and takes a sip.

“It’s very good.” Refreshing, fruity, a little sweet, exactly the type of drink Pacho likes.

“Nice to know. I was hoping it would set a good mood before we get into business.” Pacho taps his long fingers on the wine glass. “But I have to say, I wasn’t expecting you to bring business at all.”

“How come?”

“Well, to start off, I was under the impression that your entire organization had already reached a consensus.”

Amado almost wants to smile at the ambiguous wording. It’s such an old but useful trick, not making things clear in order to test the other person’s intel or stir some emotions. Ironically, he’s gone through that with Miguel so many times that it feels normal at this point.

“We know Tijuana already spoke with you.”

“But apparently, they haven’t spoken with you.” Pacho slightly tilts his head like he’s genuinely lost in his thoughts for a second—— if that’s an act, he’s a damn good actor. “Or have they? Maybe they just didn’t speak very well.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter what Tijuana said to whom.” Amado puts up a hand to mellow his seemingly aggressive tone. “I’m here because whatever Tijuana offered you, Juárez can make you a better one.”

“Why would that be, Amado?” The way his name rolls out of Pacho’s lips in that smooth, deep voice sends chills down his spine. “The product that goes through Tijuana is almost twice as much as the amount Juárez transports.”

“That’s true, for now. But they’re building three runways in Juárez right now as we speak, and there will be more once we get those three running.” Amado takes a large gulp of that sweet white wine. He honestly doesn’t understand why anyone likes this stuff; it doesn’t have the kick of liquor, and also not as refreshing as beer.

“Planes are the future, Pacho. Juárez is the future.”

“What a delightful speech.” Pacho puts both his arms on the table and leans forward, brown eyes shining with mischievous curiosity. “But I do wonder, whose future are we talking about here? Yours, or someone else’s?”

Amado’s mind goes blank for a split second. He was hoping the meeting wouldn’t come to this, but who was he kidding? How could it not?

“It was Félix’s plan, originally.” Amado decides to admit the truth. The only possible reason that Pacho might know about that is Miguel once told him when they were negotiating, so there’s really no point in denying it now. “But that doesn’t matter, does it? It was a good idea, and we’re in charge now. We’ll make it happen, make it better.”

“And you’re ok with that?”

What? What does that mean? Amado tries to look for clues from Pacho’s stare, but there’s nothing besides amusement and challenge.

“Am I ok with what?”

“You’re a trustworthy guy, aren’t you? You said it yourself last time.” Pacho shrugs, “Félix trusted you, but I guess betraying him isn’t an issue for you after all.”

“I’m not sure this counts as betrayal. I didn’t put him in this situation.” Amado’s quite impressed at himself for coming up with a response on the spot just like that, considering his heart just skipped a beat out of shock and stress. He forces himself to remain calm. He thinks about Neto’s words, Miguel’s own words. “It’s…over. It’s over for Félix, but the rest of us still need to do what we have to do.”

“Is that so?”

Pacho’s stare softens, the harsh challenge turning into inquisition, and Amado’s amazed by how the same pair of brown eyes can display such a variety of unsaid emotions.

He swallows, making up his mind. “It is.”

“I’m very happy to hear that.” Pacho picks up the wine bottle and refills both their glasses. “Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind hearing my condition.”

“Amado raises his glass slightly. “I’m listening.”

“Félix knows a lot about our business, cierto ? The transportation routes, our warehouse locations, that’s too much information if you ask me.”

Pacho leisurely shakes his wine, lips curved up like he’s talking about some harmless gossip. Amado remembers that slightly sadistic smile from the meeting they had with Miguel and Rafa, and back then, he thought it had some charming thrill to it. Well, now it certainly doesn’t feel that way anymore when the cruelty is directed at him.

“If the Americans capture him alive , who knows what he will say in exchange for his life? So if you’re going to be in charge…” Pacho reaches forward to click their glasses together, as Amado’s heart slowly, torturously sinks to his stomach. “We will need you to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Um…” Amado tries to ease the tension in his throat with wine, but it’s barely helping. “Is that a good move? I mean, the military’s looking for him right now. If we get involved, we might all get fucked over.”

“Then don’t get involved, just make the military do it for you.”

“You’re sure that’s necessary?”

“It could be, and I need to know that I can count on you to take care of it if needed.”

“So Tijuana also agreed to that?”

“I thought it doesn’t matter what Tijuana said to whom.”

Pacho leans back with a scoff, all traces of warmth disappeared from his eyes. “You know, I do respect loyalty, but only when it’s certain.”

Amado winces, feeling like he just got punched hard in the stomach. Only when it’s certain…even the sound of that word is strange to his ears. If he isn’t completely loyal to Miguel, isn’t completely loyal to himself, who the fuck is he loyal to? When was the last time he was certain about anything?

“I told you to come prepared,” Pacho pours himself another glass of wine, casually adding salt to his injury, “and you didn’t, so now you’re just wasting my time.”

Amado sighs, not even trying to hide how awful he feels at the moment. Some ancient person once said it’s good to know when you’re defeated. Well, whoever that wise man was, he must be so proud now.

“You’re right,” He stands up, doesn’t bother to reach for an awkward handshake, when Pacho clearly doesn’t have the intent, “thank you for taking the time.”

*

“Navegante will show you to your guest room.” Pacho calls out just as he turns to leave.

“What?”

“What, you forgot what I said last time?” Somehow, the Colombian is acting all friendly again all of a sudden, as if the last few minutes didn’t happen. “If you ever fly to Colombia, I know a few places where people don’t shoot at you.”

“Oh, I thought since we didn’t…” Amado tries to find another way to say since our meeting was a disaster, but can’t come up with anything better. “I mean, you still want to do that?”

“You don’t?”

Maybe? No, he does. He’s just so fucking confused right now.

“Great, I will see you in a few hours then.” Pacho seems to take his silence as a yes. Frankly, even if he said no, he doubt it would even matter. “You might want to dress for the occasion.”

Amado really doesn’t know if that’s a subtle insult on his style or not, but he’s too tired to care right now. He just wants to go lie down for a few hours before whatever crazy party scene Pacho drags him into.

“Sure. In a few hours.”

@ashlingnarcos @yourlocalspacewitxch @cherixrosa @cositapreciosa @criatividad-e @mandaloria314 @kesskirata @narcolini @marrianena @alreadywritten

#pacho herrera #miguel angel felix gallardo #amado carrillo fuentes #narcos #narcos mexico #narcos fic #narcos mexico fic #amado/pacho #amado/miguel #ao3 #fanfic

[cobrakaisupremacy]

All I ever wanted | Robby Keene x fem!reader

Masterlist 

Requested by: Myself lol

Plot: Robby has been dating this girl for months. They are about to finish high school together and the night of the prom is coming. She’s been acting weird the past two weeks, and he’s so scared she is going to break up with him that he has been the best boyfriend ever those days. Even so, she keeps acting weird until the day of the prom. When his favorite song plays and Robby asks his girlfriend to dance with him, they talk about what happened and he finds out the reason why she’s been acting like that.

A/N: My first one in English. It’s not my first language, so if you see any mistakes, you can totally tell me and I’ll change it. 

Triggers: - 

Word count: 3.068

A new girl arrived in the city, just at the time the war between the dojos was about to come to an end. She was shy and loves the geek universe, and it wasn't long before she met Demetri and became friends with him. He was responsible for telling her the whole story, always making his point of view as a Miyagi-Do student very clear. Thus, it was not difficult for Y/N to have a certain aversion for Cobra Kai and its members.

Still, as soon as her eyes saw Robby Keene for the first time, and all the antipathy became curiosity. He was so handsome with those ocean green eyes and she caught herself thinking how amazing would be his smile. She wanted to get to know him better, to understand his point of view and his life story, the reasons why he got to where he was and the reasons for the decisions he had made. 

When the Literature teacher sorted their names so that they could do the task together, they sat side by side and Robby noticed Y/N for the first time. She was beautiful and had a charming smile, but what certainly made him fall in love with her was her kindness and empathy. The fact that Y/N did not judge him for past mistakes, and although she had recently become friends with some members of Miyagi-do and Eagle Fangs, the new girl was willing to hear Robby's side of the whole story and believed in his attempt of redemption. 

It was inevitable! The two fell in love and spent the rest of that day talking, either in person or through messages on their cell phones. 

Soon there was a first date, and a week later, he asked her to be his girlfriend. She said yes, of course. Y/N was already the person responsible for making Robby want to become a better person. He wanted to deserve to be with her. Some aspects in his life were still not perfect, like his relationship with Johnny, which was still complicated, and his mother who was still in rehab, but having Y/N by his side made things easier, so he promised her an unforgettable prom. 

However, after five months of a beautiful and pleasant relationship, Y/N began to act completely different. It was two weeks before the prom, and Robby could barely be with or speak to his own girlfriend. She avoided him, didn't answer his calls, every day there was an excuse for not spending the afternoon together, and she no longer came by surprise at his house with some candy made by herself. That was certainly not the Y/N he knew and loved so much.

And then Robby remembered his relationship with Samantha, and how she hadn't gotten over Miguel even when they were together. Had a love from Y/N ‘s past returned and that was why she was acting that way? Didn't she love him anymore? Had Robby been bothering Y/N so much with his troubled life and then she had grown tired of him and his problems? He couldn't blame her if that were the case, he just wanted her to be honest, and she definitely wasn't being. 

As much as she was a sweet and shy girl, Y/N always had strong opinions and knew how to impose herself, so why didn't she break up with him at once if that’s what she wanted? Maybe she was planning to break up with him in front of everyone in the middle of the prom. No, she wouldn't be that cruel. Not the Y/N he knew. Anyway, Robby remembered that horrible feeling of losing someone he loves, and he didn't want to lose Y/N . Thinking about it, he decided to be the best boyfriend he could and that she deserved. Perhaps she was facing some problem that she was not yet ready to share with him, and as a good boyfriend, he should respect and give her all the love and support that was necessary. 

He left loving little notes in her locker, but she didn't respond. He bought her favorite chocolate bar and gave it to her during a class, but she just thanked him with a simple smile and put the package in her case. Robby even tried flowers, and showed up at her door with a white rose, which was what he could afford at that moment, but her mother answered the door and said she was not there. He tried to call and text, but she didn't answer. 

Robby then decided to open his heart and sent one last voicemail. 

“ Ok, I got it that you don't want to answer me, so I will respect your space and leave you alone. But I am worried. And I want you to know that I'm always here if you need me. And I mean it. If you want to chat, watch a Marvel movie or even if you want to punch me in the face, I will be here to take it. I love you. Don't give up on us. ” 

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

The next day, Robby was surprised when Y/N appeared in front of him. Her eyes filled with tears, she just hugged him in silence, to which he immediately reciprocated by holding her close. He closed his eyes to enjoy the moment, and the two of them stayed hugged in the corridor for long minutes. The bell for the first class rang. 

“ I'm sorry to be acting like an idiot. I have a problem that I still don't know how to deal with. ”  Y/N said, her voice trembling like she was ready to cry. 

“ You know you can count on me for that. ” Robby assured. 

“ I know. ”  She whispered, letting some tears drop by her face. Robby holds her hand.  “ I didn’t give up on us. I just hope you don’t either. ” 

“ Why would I do that? ”  Robby asked, confused and frowning. It was he who had spent the past two weeks trying to show how much he cared about her. Y/N was the one who was ignoring him. 

“ Let's go to class, Robby. The prom is tomorrow and I want to enjoy the day. After that, we can talk about it. ”  Y/N said, kissing his mouth. She took her boyfriend's hand and guided him to the classroom. Even though he wanted to ask, Robby kept his concern to himself and decided to do what she asked. 

At least his Y/N was back, and they could enjoy the prom as he had planned. 

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 

The next day, Robby let Y/N enjoy her day with her friends. The girlfriend had tol him that she would be with Moon and another girl from her math class. They would take care of nails, skin, hair and the whole spa day that a girl dreams of doing before the prom. 

The night was slow to arrive, but as soon as it was on time, Robby showed up at Y/N’s house. His girlfriend went out the door and his mouth opened, in shock with such beauty. Y/N was more beautiful than ever, stunning. It was impossible to stop looking at her, and Robby thought about how jealous he would be to see other guys staring at her. Because, of course, he wouldn't be the only one who found Y/N completely wonderful that night, but he would be the only one who would have her attention and her heart.

“ You look wonderful. You’re the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life. ”  Robby said, eyes shining and pupils dilated. Y/N felt her cheeks blush and expressed the widest, brightest smile possible. Still, there was something saddened about her countenance, that only someone who knew her as well as Robby could notice. However, he said nothing. They had agreed to have fun that night, and he was prepared to make her the happiest and have an unforgettable prom. 

“ Thank you, my love. You look as handsome as always. ” Y/N put her hand on Robby's face. “ I love your eyes. Especially when they look at me this way. ” 

“ I’ll look at you this way for the rest of my life. Or at least, as long as you want me around. ”  And then he kissed his girlfriend, being careful not to smudge her lipstick. 

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 

They arrived at the prom, and as Robby had expected, the two attracted many looks. They were beautiful together, no one could deny that. Y/N held his hand tightly, as if she was afraid something was going to happen, and once again Robby stopped himself from asking anything. This was not the time to bring up the subject, and he had promised that he would wait for the prom to end before they could talk. 

He thought she would feel more comfortable if she was around with her friends, so he suggested they stay close to where Moon was. He had to swallow his pride, since his girlfriend's friend was with Hawk. Samantha and Miguel were also around, which made the atmosphere weird, but Y/N seemed to be fine talking with Moon, and Robby would endure whatever it took to make his girl happy that night. 

However, his efforts seemed to be in vain. He offered a drink, she didn't want to. He asked what she wanted to do, she said she just wanted to stay there. That was when, finally, the band started playing a song that he loved, and Robby saw the perfect opportunity there. 

“ Babe, let’s dance? ”  He asked, and soon he realized that she was going to deny it, he interrupted her.  “ Before you say no, I want you to know that this is one of my favorite songs. And I’d love if you pay attention to the lyrics. It’ll be even more special if you dance with me. ”  Y/N couldn't resist those bright green eyes, and Robby's sweet, passionate smile. She smiled together and held out her hand to him.  

The two walked to where the other couples were dancing. Robby put his hands on his girlfriend's waist, and she rested her arms on his shoulders. They were close enough, and as soon as the music started, Keene whispered the lyrics as he looked her in the eye. The words he said along with the song were full of meaning for him.

“ You know I'd fall apart without you

I don't know how you do what you do

'Cause everything that don't make sense about me

Makes sense when I'm with you ” 

Robby hummed, and at the same time, her eyes sparkled. A smile could be noticed on Y/N’s lips, and he smiled together when he noticed his girl was happy. He pulled her a little closer and couldn't resist leaving a kiss on the corner of her mouth. The music continued, and as soon as the chorus started, he whispered the lyrics again looking into her eyes. 

“ ‘Cause I wanna wrap you up

Wanna kiss your lips

I wanna make you feel wanted

And I wanna call you mine

Wanna hold your hand forever

And never let you forget it

Yeah, I wanna make you feel wanted ”

Y/N’s eyes were full of tears, and she ended up letting one run down her cheek. Robby quickly dried  it with his thumb, keeping the other fingers on his girlfriend's neck. He continued the next part. 

“ Anyone can tell you you're pretty

You get that all the time, I know you do ”

Y/N laughed and shook her head negatively when she heard that part, but Robby nodded and they both giggled. She didn’t see herself as pretty girl, but he saw her as the pretties of all. 

“ But your beauty's deeper than the make-up

And I wanna show you what I see tonight ” 

Robby tried to imitate the singer and the two laughed when the boy went out of tune. The chorus played again, but this time, instead of singing, Keene sealed his lips on his girlfriend's. They continued dancing and kissing until the chorus ended. When their mouths parted, their faces remained close. Their noses were touching, their eyes were open looking at each other, and Robby continued to whisper against the girl's lips. 

“ As good as you make me feel

I wanna make you feel better

Better than your fairy tales

Better than your best dreams

You're more than everything I need

You're all I ever wanted ” 

And it was at that moment that Y/N could not resist crying and let all tears escape. She was crying compulsively, and Robby didn't know how to react. He filled his girlfriend with kisses, asking her to calm down. Only when she managed to control her own voice did Y/N speak. 

“ Robby, this is so beautiful, but… I don’t know if you still gonna think that way after I tell you what I have to say. ” 

That was it, Robby thought. It was the end. She would break up with him, maybe confess that she had cheated on him, and he would have his heart broken again. He would be alone once again. Robby sighed and took the courage to ask. 

“ Do you wanna break up with me? ” 

“ No. But I think you’ll break up with me. ” 

“ Y/N, I know I promised that we would talk about it only after the prom, but look at both of us. There is no chance to enjoy this prom that way. Please tell me what's going on. ”  He practically begged. 

The girl was panting and her eyes were full of tears. Y/N sighed deeply, searching for a courage within herself that she knew she didn't have at that moment. But she couldn't do that to him anymore. Robby deserved to know what was going on.

“ I’m pregnant. ”  Y/N said, her voice trembling. She held the tears and analyzed him to see his reaction. 

Robby froze. He was paralyzed. His green eyes stared at his girlfriend, mouth opened, unable to say anything. It was certainly not the reaction she expected, but he could not have predicted it and could not contain his shock at the news. A whirlwind of thoughts crossed his mind, and Keene remained paralyzed until he saw her crying again. That woke him up to reality. Robby hugged her again. Y/N had started to cry again when she saw his reaction. At that moment, she was sure that their relationship would be over. 

“ Is that why you’ve been acting weird in the past few weeks? ”  Robby asked, hugging her. Y/N just nodded.  “ And do you think I would break up with you in a situation like this? You must think that I’m a piece of crap. ”  

“ No, babe, that’s not it. ”  She pulled away from the hug and looked him in the eye, worried that he would think she saw him as someone terrible, because she didn’t.  “ It’s just ‘cause… well, you didn’t have a good family structure, and I thought the fact that you’re going to be a dad could scare you. ” 

“ Well, I am scared. I cannot lie about that. But, love, that is not your fault. It needs two to get someone pregnant, you know? ”  He joked about it, and both laughed a little. 

“ I was so afraid of your reaction, afraid of losing you. I thought things were going to change for the worse between us. That’s why during this week I acted like that, I stayed apart. ”  So Y/N got up the courage and started to vent everything at once. Robby looked her in the eye, listening to her words and feeling the saddest to know that she was feeling that way all those days.   “ I was trying to get used to not having you in my life. And it hurt me every time you did something nice for me, like the little notes on my locker and the chocolate bar. I thought I wouldn’t have that anymore.  ”  And she started crying again. 

“ Y/N… How could you ever think that I was going to do something like that? Don’t you believe that I love you? ” 

“ I do believe in your love. I’m sorry. I was just so scared. I didn’t want anything to change between us. ” 

“ Hey, babe, stop crying. I’d never leave you in any situation. When I told you I loved you, Y/N, I meant it. I’ll always be here for you. ”  Robby assured, and one last tear came out of her eyes. They both smiled at each other and kissed passionately.  “ I always knew that you'd be the mother of my children. Of course, I hoped it would happen later, maybe after college, but it's not my fault that you’re so hot that I can't stop having sex with you. ”  Robby whispered, and Y/N felt her cheeks blushing. 

“ Robby Keene! ”  She spoke as if she was angry, but she was smiling. 

“ You feeling better? ” 

“ Yes, a lot! And you, how are you with the news that you are going to be a daddy? ” 

“ Still in shock. It's hard to believe. But I know that I have you by my side. And as I said in the song: You're more than everything I need. You're all I ever wanted. ” 

“ I love you, Robby Keene. ”  Her eyes were shining again, almost crying. But she had the brightest smile on her face, so the boyfriend smile as wide as her. 

“ Well, I promised you an unforgettable prom. Pretty sure we are never forgetting this night. ”  Both giggled before kissing again. 

Robby was sure at that moment that Y/N was the love of his life, and in the future, she would be his wife. The two returned to dance together, hugging each other and enjoying the rest of the dance. They decided to deal with the pregnancy issue later. Many problems would come, the parents' reaction, thinking about how they would afford to survive and what to do with the college. But, as he said, if he had Y/N by his side, then he had all he ever wanted. 

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Send me some feedback or request your imagine/headcanon! 

Tagging: @miguelsc​ (Comment here if you’d like to be tagged on the stuff I’ll write) 

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[breckstonevailskier]

Rewriting Cobra Kai Season 2 to eliminate the love triangles

There's a lot to love about Cobra Kai. But I have to admit season 2 is a bit of a weak season. And one of the areas that I view as a weak point is with the teen romance and love triangles.

Love triangles are one of the cheapest sources of conflict, given that you're either pitting two girls against each other in a competition for a guy's love, or two guys against each other for a girl's love. We see both of those in season 2 with Robby/Sam/Miguel and Sam/Miguel/Tory.

Obviously, the pairings for the season of Sam/Robby and Miguel/Tory were rebounds because it's typical in a show like this to break up an endgame couple early, then have them get back together later. Thing is, the rivalries of Sam and Tory, and Miguel and Robby, already have a lot of meat for them that doesn't hinge on the relationships.

With Sam and Tory, it's kinda ridiculous that the whole rivalry is basically over Miguel's heart when it could've been about so much more. It could've been built more upon the wrong perceptions that they had of each other from their first encounter at the beach club in 2x04: Sam viewing Tory as a thief, and Tory viewing Sam as a privileged rival who's never had to deal with hardship.

With Robby and Miguel, the show focuses a lot on how Miguel views Robby as a rival in their affections for Sam, but not really about another source to their rivalry: Johnny. It would've been interesting if the rivalry was built around Robby's resentment towards Miguel for getting Johnny's attention and affection, and in turn for Miguel to feel conflicted about his anger towards Robby because he's aware about Robby being Johnny's son.

There's also the fact that I don't think Sam/Robby and Miguel/Tory really have chemistry compared to Sam/Miguel and Robby/Tory. Sam and Robby have more sibling vibes than romantic ones. In the case of Miguel and Tory, Tory pursued Miguel and he went along with it because she was offering herself as a rebound girl, and the whole thing felt like a temporary relationship to tide him over before he got back together with Sam (and he was a pretty bad boyfriend to her in turn).

So my solution to the mess is to, well...to fix the problem, you have to go back into season 1 and not have Sam break up with Miguel at the tournament. Keep Sam and Miguel in a relationship for the duration of season 2, while having Tory get together with Robby in season 2. Here's how that would go.

SEASON 1

Episode 9:

In this episode, Sam returned home, planning to come clean to her dad about Miguel (and prepared to take the risk of him not approving of the relationship because Miguel is in Cobra Kai), only for her mom to confront her about the hit and run and ground her. Because her phone was confiscated, she can't reach out to Miguel, who is becoming paranoid in light of Johnny's biased stories to him about Daniel and seeing Sam being friendly with Robby. He gets drunk, and tries to take a swing at Robby when he brings Sam over so she can explain the situation, accidentally hitting Sam. Subsequently, they break up after he refuses to apologize for resorting to violence on Robby, and she leaves the tournament early, unable to bear what Miguel's turned into under the Cobra Kai teachings, while Miguel fights dirty against Robby in the finals and wins.

The change:

Sam returns home, planning to come clean to her dad about Miguel. Her mom confronts her about the hit-and-run...but she isn't quick to ground Sam. First, Amanda asks Sam for her side of the story about the hit-and-run. This, I think, is a very necessary change because, in the canon episode, Amanda's a bit of a hypocrite here. She's rushing to judgment based solely on Johnny's word without hearing Sam's side of the events or considering the possibility that Johnny's being biased, something that she had chided Daniel for doing earlier (regarding Johnny bringing to his attention what Kyler and his gang had been doing to Miguel).

So Sam explains what happened: Yasmine was texting while driving and they collided with a car that was parked illegally in the street outside the All-Valley Sports Arena. They were prepared to get out and leave contact information when a drunk Johnny began banging on the backseat window, making them drive off out of fear for their safety.

While Sam has told her side of things, she's still grounded for not coming clean sooner. But before Amanda can confiscate Sam's phone, Sam brings up that she has plans to see Miguel that night and he'll be worried sick if he can't contact her. She comes clean to her mom about how, "You know about that viral video of the kid who beat up Kyler and his crew in the cafeteria a few months back? Well, I've been dating that kid for the last few months." And she explains everything: his name is Miguel Diaz, and he's a student at Cobra Kai, and she was planning on telling Daniel about all this.

Of course, Amanda is aware Daniel will probably not take the news that their daughter is dating a Cobra Kai well, given Daniel's personal beef with Cobra Kai (what with getting Armand Zakarian to jack up the rent on the strip mall, and Louie hiring his biker buddies to destroy Johnny's car as retaliation for the billboard penis), and how he's not above intruding on his daughter's social life (given what happened with Kyler). But Sam insists Miguel's a good person, and that if Amanda gets to know Miguel through and through, then she can help Sam stand up to Daniel when Daniel inevitably blows up. More importantly, her best friend Aisha's in Cobra Kai, and can also vouch for Miguel's character. Amanda agrees to Sam's idea, and lets her call Miguel to invite him over.

So Miguel abandons the Cobra Kais' party and comes over to the LaRussos' house. He's already feeling jealous and insecure, because he knows Sam is hiding their relationship from Daniel, and the previous day, he went to her house uninvited and saw her laughing and talking to Robby. This was right after he'd heard Johnny's biased story about Daniel "stealing" Ali from him. So when Amanda lets Miguel in, he's a bit on edge, but Amanda mistakes it as him just being nervous at him coming over to his girlfriend's fancy house. Nonetheless, she's quickly won over by Miguel's personality, and when she asks him about "Why did you take up karate?" determines that he's the real deal, especially when he mentions how he took up karate to defend himself from bullies (much like Daniel did).

But things change when Robby arrives at the house for a training session with Daniel. Robby and Miguel recognize each other, and immediately Miguel's insecurities come to his head. He tries to attack Robby, but Sam steps between them, calms Miguel down, and explains that whatever Miguel saw, it's not what it looks like. Robby's just a friend and a teen working for the LaRussos' dealership who is also being trained by Daniel in the art of Miyagi-Do. Miguel listens to her, accepts what she's saying, and relaxes, no longer seeing Robby as a threat to his affections for Sam. However, Sam also notices the disdainful look Robby showed the moment he saw Miguel, but can't figure out why as she nor her parents are aware that Robby is Johnny's son.

When Johnny and Daniel return home from their day out, they agree to a "Rocky III-style" match in Daniel's dojo, but find Robby there waiting, and also find Sam with Miguel and Amanda. Things get heated, the altercation where Daniel's trophy gets broken happens, and ultimately everyone blows up at each other:

Daniel is mad over the fact that his daughter is dating a Cobra Kai boy and about the whole fact that Robby is Johnny's son.

Johnny's mad at Daniel because Daniel is training his son. He is also offended by the fact that Daniel is mad about Miguel being in Cobra Kai, causing him to get defensive of Miguel.

In Johnny's rush to defend Miguel, he only succeeds in angering Robby, who's now mad at him for showing his favoritism for Miguel. Robby is also mad at Miguel for the fact that Sam is already taken.

Miguel is mad at Daniel for not approving of him, and mad at Johnny for escalating the situation.

Sam is mad at her dad for not reacting well to Miguel, and mad at Miguel and Robby for letting there be bad blood between them.

Amanda is mad at Johnny for terrorizing Sam, and also mad at Daniel for flipping out at Miguel.

So the whole thing ends with Johnny driving away angrily with Miguel, Daniel banishing Robby from the house and the dealership, Sam storming off to her bedroom in tears, and Daniel also being banished to the couch by Amanda.

Episode 10:

At the LaRusso house, everyone broods over the events of the previous night. Amanda puts Daniel in his place and calls him out on his behavior towards Robby and Miguel, with her saying "You really want Sam to shut you out again?" He apologizes to Sam and Amanda for losing it, and reluctantly agrees to sit down and get to know Miguel after the tournament.

Everything at the tournament is the same up until the conversation Sam has with Miguel right before the finals. She apologizes for her dad's behavior, and tells him that her dad wants to get to know him. Miguel accepts her apology, thanks her, and agrees that they'll talk after the tournament.

Subsequently, Sam stays for the finals rather than go home early. Miguel doesn't threaten to hurt Robby, and wanting to make the best impression for Daniel, he chooses to fight cleanly rather than exploit Robby's injury, an act that baffles Miguel's fellow Cobra Kai students. Even though the match ties at 2-2, Robby's injury puts him at too much of a disadvantage, and Miguel earns the winning point not by attacking Robby's shoulder, but by using the Crane Kick (to which he subsequently gives Daniel a bow of respect).

Subsequently, Sam is among those who run over to him, gives him an approving hug, and then goes over to check on Robby and Johnny. Meanwhile, Sam goes with Miguel to the victory celebration at Applebee's. And afterwards, he goes with her to her house for a sparring session of their own.

On the drive home, Robby is sullen about his second place finish, but Daniel assures him that he is as much of a winner as Miguel. Robby expresses concern that Cobra Kai is going to become the premier dojo in the Valley, but Daniel--bitter over Johnny's behavior towards his daughter, and Hawk's behavior in the semi-finals--replies, "Over my dead body", taking Robby to Mr. Miyagi's old house which he plans to convert into a full on dojo for Miyagi-Do.

The next day, Miguel comes over to the LaRussos' for dinner. He is hesitant, since besides what he's seen of Daniel, the only other things he knows about Daniel are from the biased narrative that Johnny gave him about what happened in 1984, and the way Daniel flipped out at seeing him. Daniel apologizes for his behavior the other day, but explains that the name Cobra Kai just brings up lots of bad memories with him. So we get the car scene from season 3 episode 9 where Daniel fills in the gaps about what Johnny didn't tell Miguel, and to further clarify why he doesn't trust Cobra Kai and Johnny, also brings up what happened when he was manipulated by Terry Silver and Mike Barnes. At the end of it, Daniel decides that he's okay with Miguel dating Sam, but this hasn't done anything to cool the blood between him and Johnny because of Hawk injuring Robby and Johnny's own actions with the hit-and-run.

SEASON 2:

Episodes 1 and 2:

So for season 2, Miguel's arc is about him being torn between Cobra Kai and his loyalty to Johnny, and his relationship with Sam and the new respect Daniel has for him. Sam and Miguel are still dating. Robby still doesn't like that Sam is with Miguel, and still dislikes Miguel because of Johnny's favoritism for him, but decides to stay friends with Sam after she convinces Daniel to take Robby in. Robby also tries to be civil to Miguel for Daniel's and Sam's sake. But with Miguel spending so much time with Sam and being practically a fixture at the LaRusso house, it's hard for Robby not to grow envious of him given all that other baggage.

Episode 3:

The season is mostly the same, up until episode 3 at Valley Fest. In canon, Daniel is having a hard time finding new students, who are put off by his chore-based training methods. To help get exposure, Daniel decides to hold a solemn karate demonstration with Sam and Robby at the upcoming Valley Fest fair. In canon, when Johnny hears about this, Cobra Kai interrupt them with a much more flashy demonstration of their own set to "Back in the Game" by Airbourne, winning over the crowd and stealing the spotlight from Miyagi-Do as Daniel and his students look on with contempt.

In this timeline, however, Valley Fest puts Miguel's loyalties to question. If nothing changes, and Cobra Kai hijacks the demo as happens in canon, Sam is mad at Miguel for raining on Miyagi-Do's parade and not telling her about it in advance. So Miguel, not wanting to jeopardize his relationship with Sam, or at the minimum interested in softening the blow, either gives Sam an advance tip-off and preemptive apology, or better yet, convinces Johnny to wait until Miyagi-Do has finished before they do their show (risking being called a pussy by Johnny). Sam still has some bitter feelings towards Cobra Kai for putting on a demo that overshadowed Miyagi-Do's, though accepts Miguel's apology about the matter, as happens in canon when she argues with Aisha about this at the beach club and they decide it's not worth fighting over.

Episode 4:

Episode 4 is where Sam's rivalry with Tory begins in canon. Daniel takes Robby and Sam to a beach club, where his attempts to promote Miyagi-Do to local parents are overshadowed by Cobra Kai's display at Valley Fest, with Aisha's mother praising the difference that Cobra Kai has made in her daughter's life. Meanwhile, Sam tries to make up with Aisha, who is upset about the slight against Cobra Kai in Daniel’s ad, but ends up in a quarrel with Tory, whom she accuses of stealing her mother's wallet (having witnessed Tory stealing liquor at the club beforehand). Tory responds by pushing Sam into a dessert table and walking away with Aisha.

Not much about this would change, especially where the rivalry between Sam and Tory is concerned, because it's important for me to note that in canon this inciting incident for the rivalry was before Tory hooked up with Miguel. That wasn't until the next episode.

Meanwhile, through circumstances, Tory also runs into Robby, befriends him, and enters into a relationship with him. In season 3, we see them form a connection after Robby joins Cobra Kai over how they're the ones who bore the blunt of the punishment for the school brawl, and their troubled home lives. So we see that here, with Tory also using elements of the playbook she used in the actual timeline to seduce Miguel, which in this case means convincing Robby that he needs to pretend that he's over Sam. Kreese finds out about the relationship between Robby and Tory, and since he's wanted to snag Robby this whole time, he decides to use Tory as a pawn to influence Robby, in hopes of both eventually getting Robby to join Cobra Kai while also getting revenge on Daniel for humiliating him and Terry Silver back in 1985.

Episode 5:

In episode 5, the mall fight still happens, but with Miguel taking Robby's place. It would work nicely since Miguel is Demetri's friend too. (Robby's on a date with Tory, which is why he's not here)

In this version of events, Sam and Miguel go to the mall with Demetri. Demetri is confronted and attacked by Hawk and several other Cobra Kai students as a reprisal for his Yelp review. Demetri flees into the food court, where Sam and Miguel come to his aid. Despite being outnumbered, they utilize the "wheel technique" to soundly defeat their opponents (Miguel knows it because Daniel, at Sam's request, agreed to give Miguel a private one-on-one lesson with him and Sam in the LaRussos' home dojo). Proud of his students, Daniel resolves to continue training Demetri at a slower pace, and also convinces Miguel to consider joining Miyagi-Do, saying that Miguel could use some new fighting moves for when he defends his title at the next All-Valley Tournament. Sam and Miguel have an intimate moment afterwards (either a passionate makeout session, or they make love in Sam's bedroom).

Hawk is infuriated by Moon breaking up with him AND the fact that Miguel is consorting with the enemy by aiding Sam (in fact, he's noticed Miguel growing distant from him and the rest of Cobra Kai ever since the tournament, having spent more time with Sam than with his friends from the dojo). So when Kreese notices Hawk blowing off steam, he encourages him to continue the fight. That night, Hawk and his Cobra Kai followers trash the Miyagi-Do dojo and steal Mr. Miyagi's Medal of Honor.

Enraged, Daniel confronts Johnny in front of the students at the Cobra Kai dojo. Although Johnny honestly denies any knowledge of the incident, the two nearly come to blows until Miguel steps in and forces them to stand down, getting Daniel to remember his promise not to alienate Miguel from him. While Daniel predictably fails to get any restitution out of Johnny, he nonetheless succeeds in convincing a number of Cobra Kai students to walk out and join Miyagi-Do instead...including Miguel. There's a small smirk on Kreese's face as Miguel leaves, since Miguel's no longer around to oppose him, and he hopes the friction between Robby and Miguel will get Robby to leave Miyagi-Do and come over to Cobra Kai.

Episode 6:

So for the next two episodes, Miguel is now at Miyagi-Do. Although Robby does not trust Miguel (thanks to Kreese using Tory to indirectly manipulate him), Daniel reveals that he himself used to be Cobra Kai before seeing the error of his ways, and tells the class that it doesn't matter who they were before — as of now, they are all Miyagi-Do. They work together to raise a heavy stone slab that Hawk's gang knocked over.

At the Cobra Kai dojo, Johnny punishes the students with strenuous exercises, seeking to root out who was responsible for trashing the Miyagi-Do dojo while also trying to reach out to Miguel, trying to get him to come back (with no success). He then receives a call which brings him to the hospital to visit his old friend Tommy, who is suffering from a terminal illness. Along with Bobby and Jimmy, the former Cobras resolve to treat Tommy to one last day of fun. His departure allows Kreese to corrupt the other Cobra Kais, moreso than in canon where Miguel was around to raise objections. The OG Cobra Kais, besides taking issue with Johnny for letting Kreese back in the picture, don't exactly help Johnny when they suggest that maybe it's for the best that Miguel is on the side of the LaRussos for now, as they've come to develop a lot of respect for Daniel and Mr. Miyagi since the tournament in 1984.

Episode 7:

I'd divide up the training sessions of Cobra Kai and Miyagi-Do to happen on separate days. Miguel participates with Sam in the meat locker training scene, taking Robby's place in the canon scene, while pairing Robby up with Demetri or Chris. Meanwhile, Hawk acts as Tory's partner in Coyote Creek instead of Miguel.

Meanwhile, Miguel suspects that Hawk was behind the trashing of Miyagi-Do and it was as payback for the mall fight. Finding out somehow that Cobra Kai are training the following day at Coyote Creek (because someone, maybe Stingray, was foolish enough to post it on social media), he decides to bring Sam and some of the other Miyagi-Dos to ambush the Cobra Kais. Miguel does the ambush on and beatdown of Hawk and takes back the medal of honor, while Sam attacks Tory and gives her a beating, even though Tory wasn't a participant in the vandalism of Miyagi-Do. Daniel's not happy with Sam or Miguel, but Sam counters that they have to show they won't stand for being picked on.

When Tory tells Robby about what happened, Robby is understandably torn on his loyalties. On the one hand, he's got to be loyal to Miyagi-Do, but Tory is his girlfriend, and his resentments towards Miguel begin to resurface. Tory is furious, recalls the same thing Kreese said to get Hawk to trash Miyagi-Do in the first place, and swears revenge on Sam. And for that matter, the Cobra Kais also want revenge on Miyagi-Do.

Episode 8:

Johnny gets Miguel to come back to Cobra Kai, now that Kreese has been expelled and isn't around to teach them in his old ways. Daniel is sad to see Miguel go, but tells Miguel that he's always welcome at their place for private sessions with Daniel and Sam. While Hawk is glad to see Miguel back, Miguel keeps him at arm's length in light of the vandalism and what happened at the mall, and Tory puts on a poker face to hide her hatred of him (which is another reason why she's targeting Sam: to hurt him by proxy).

80's night at the roller rink in canon is the first time Sam and Tory have crossed paths since episode 4.

In canon it goes like this: Tory invites Miguel to the roller rink, and Tory trips Sam for talking to Miguel, getting Sam and Robby ejected from the rink.

In the alternate timeline, it goes like this: Tory invites Robby to the roller rink, and she kisses Robby in front of Sam, something Sam doesn't react well to because she sees Tory as dragging Robby down and potentially undoing the hard work Robby has put into turning his life around ever since he entered the LaRussos' lives. Miguel tries to smooth things over with Tory for Coyote Creek, with little success because he doesn't realize just how deep Tory's hatred for him and Sam is. He starts to realize this when Tory trips Sam moments later, leading Sam to retaliate with a leg sweep, and Miguel also retaliates by getting in Tory's face. As a result, both Sam and Miguel are kicked out of the rink.

Episode 9:

Moon's party goes down a bit differently when it comes to Sam, Miguel, Robby, and Tory's actions.

In the show, while Miguel is by the pool kissing Sam, Robby's inside getting food for a very drunk Sam. However, he gets distracted as the summer-long tension between Hawk and Demetri escalates, and he has to step in and defend Demetri.

Here, due to circumstances, the roles are reversed and Miguel is the one inside defending Demetri from Hawk, while it's Robby who's outside by the pool with Sam, just making sure she's all right (after all, he's the son of two alcoholics). There's no drunk kiss, and instead, Robby and Sam are being friendly, talking, and Sam is raising her concerns about Tory being a bad influence on him. They're seen by Tory, and like when Miguel approached Sam at the roller rink in the actual timeline (or in canon when Miguel saw Sam being friendly with Robby at the LaRussos'), she misinterprets the whole thing in a way that fuels her hatred for Sam that has been festering ever since Sam beat her up at Coyote Creek.

When the police break up the party, Robby hastily decides to take Sam back to Johnny's apartment like in the show. Tory happens to see him getting Sam into his car, and decides that Robby isn't entirely over his feelings for Sam. Giving her another excuse for the school brawl.

Miguel isn't anywhere near them, so he reaches out to Johnny. Johnny calls back when he gets to his apartment and finds Robby and Sam there, or Miguel finds them together there. In either case, there's a short fight between Robby and Miguel (due to Miguel, who has been fully aware this whole time that Robby had a crush on Sam, fearing Robby was taking advantage of her) that Johnny quickly breaks up, with Johnny placating Miguel enough to get him to back down. Miguel takes a few deep breaths, focuses, goes over to his apartment to get his mother, and she quickly whips up a hangover cure for Sam. Carmen also sees fit to call Sam's parents to let them know that she's all right, and they can come pick her up in the morning.

Episode 10:

The Sunday morning after Moon's party, Daniel comes by to pick Sam up. Meanwhile, Robby begins to reconcile with his father. He is thankful for Johnny's help, and when Daniel shows up to take Sam home, Robby is willing to accept the blame to prevent further tension between the two men.

When Daniel arrives, there is no "rematch" between him and Johnny, and nothing of him disowning Robby (it's actually a bit redundant seeing as Robby's going to provide Daniel with a reason to hate him later). Johnny just hands Sam over to Daniel, Daniel takes her home. He's not happy that she seemingly turned to Johnny instead of him in her hour of need, but accepts that that's an issue for another day.

Over that Sunday, Robby and Johnny reconcile at Johnny's apartment, while Miguel goes over to the LaRussos' house and talks things over with Daniel, Amanda and Sam. He apologizes for not being more attentive to Sam, as he was busy trying to defend Demetri.

That Monday, Johnny takes Robby to school. Even as Johnny's attempts to be fatherly to him on his first day of school are awkward, Robby appreciates that he is trying, and encourages his father to make peace with Daniel, believing that the two of them could learn some things from each other.

Shortly into the morning announcements, Tory assaults the teacher and seizes control of the intercom to announce an ass-beating of Sam. Like in the show, the two girls circle each other in the hallway, with Robby and Miguel frantically racing to reach them. Miguel gets there first and manages to briefly separate them, only for Robby to arrive and — believing that Miguel is attacking Tory — start his own fight with him. With Miguel also giving his all, still pissed at Robby for (seemingly) trying to take advantage of Sam.

The brawl thus plays out the same. And the outcome of the Sam vs. Tory and Miguel vs. Robby fights are the same. In the girls' fight, Tory shifts her spiked bracelet to her knuckles, slashing Sam's arm before threatening to slice her face with it. Sam regains the upper hand and knocks her down a staircase. Meanwhile, Miguel pins Robby to the floor, but, remembering what Johnny said about the difference between having no mercy and no honor, shows mercy and apologizes. However, Robby’s anger at Miguel over having everything Robby doesn't have--the tournament trophy, the romance with Sam, Johnny's preferential treatment, Daniel's approval-- boils over and he seizes the opening to attack Miguel, inadvertently kicking him over the stairway balcony and paralyzing him.

In the aftermath, Daniel is furious that both his daughter and her boyfriend, who he's come to like ever since the tournament, are both in the hospital with injuries. He also blames Tory for corrupting Robby once he learns from Sam that Robby had been dating Tory.

Season 3:

Season 3 has some differences in the details, but otherwise stays mostly the same.

-----

At the end of the day, the rivalries amongst Sam, Miguel, Robby and Tory are made a bit stronger by cutting out the love triangles. With Sam vs. Tory, that rivalry is balanced out a bit by having Sam be a contributor to the increasing tensions between them, not just Tory doing everything. While Robby vs. Miguel is a bit stronger rivalry due to the fact that Robby has to interact with Miguel a lot more, all while having to bottle up his resentments of Miguel so he doesn't lose the LaRussos' hospitality.

#cobra kai #cobra kai season 2 #cobra kai season 1 #cobra kai season 3 #daniel larusso #ralph macchio #johnny lawrence #william zabka #amanda larusso #courtney henggeler #samantha larusso #sam larusso #mary mouser #miguel diaz #xolo mariduena #tory nichols #peyton list #robby keene #tanner buchanan #john kreese #martin kove #sam x miguel #robby x tory

[pretty-face-breaker]

You’re in Shock

At last, it seems Hayko is dragged out of the mess he found himself in two years ago. Though, the road to freedom is not a peaceful one and especially when Nick is driving.

c.w. minor character death, guns and descriptions of blood, whumpee going into shock/being unable to verbally communicate, noncon touch (nonsexual), getting carried against will

1 2 3 4 

—

Bang.

Thud.  

Hayko’s eyes snapped open to watch him lower the gun, the blur of his surroundings replaced with a sudden awareness. The man—what had been one—had made a fleeting jerk for his waist when he had seen the barrel between his eyes but too little, too late. Nick had sent him down in less than a second. Then, just as clinically, tucked the gun away.

His mouth was stuck agape. He was unable to peel his eyes from the gore on the ground, make sense of what just happened when he suddenly saw Nick turn and lunge at him. Those green slits were focussed but Hayko screamed anyway and threw an arm up that Nick caught with ease and twisted, earning another wail from his sore body.  

“Hey, shut up,” Nick hissed close to his ear. Hayko felt a spot of blood smear onto his wrist. “Stand, now.” 

If he could obey as easily, he would have. If Nick hadn’t beaten the ability to obey out of him over the last hour, before the gunshot, before the chastising, his involvement in all of this, he would have but all he could do is push himself to his knees and keel at the sudden stab of pain in his ribcage. Hayko gripped at Nick’s arm blindly, hauling himself up through the pain until he was half-standing and could take a better look at him. 

“Ah, f-fuck. Why did you-...wh—” Desperate for an answer, he stammered until Nick was pulling him to the door under his arms. He grunted as his head hit the door frame he was thrown against and slid down on pulse with his heart in his throat. Nick stood, fully visible through the open door and only an inch away. 

He glanced over, eyebrows raised. “Yes?” That cool and unphased fucking tone, like he hadn’t just blown someone’s brains out directly in front of him. 

“Y-you…” Hayko faltered, never before feeling so helpless. “You kill—” Nick’s expression seemed to change mid-question to the dark contortion that shut him up. He didn’t have to specify that if he wanted to live, he should stop asking questions. Besides, Nick was focussed on someone else. 

“Alright Miguel, I’ve got it. I’ve gotta go, yeah.” Eladio sneered the acknowledgement into the phone at the bottom of the hall, one finger twirling the silver on his neck. 

This is happening too fast.

Hayko felt everything in him freeze. On the other hand, Nick just stared ahead, arm ghosting the leather to remove the gun in a few soft clicks and rustles. Too far for the man at the end of the hall to have heard a thing. When his eyes finally did focus on the lone figure standing in the doorway, his lips curled into a knowing smile. 

“Killed him already? Thought you’d go for a couple more hours,” Eladio could be heard lilting through his own grin. Hayko didn’t dare breathe. Through the corner of his eyes, he kept a firm stare on the man in black and recently added red as if he’d disappear as quickly as the other had. 

The one laying a few paces behind the both of them at that moment. 

Nick smiled in return, not one to disappear. “I couldn’t forgive this one, unfortunately. He pushed me too far.” And diligently, he kept his eyes lock-stock through the frame, not once letting them flicker over to Hayko who stared at his enigmatic look with a fear so deep in his bones, it could have choked him. 

Soon enough, Eladio’s eyes travelled to the mess, too. “I can tell, Jesus, right through the face? You surprise me, Sinc—” He was no more than a few feet from Nick, judging by his volume. Hayko swore he could have heard the sharp inhalation which felt louder now than every other sound he’d heard that night, even his own directionless wails when Nick had hit him with the cane and then told him he’d spare his life. Now, he and Eladio both weren’t breathing. 

“You trusted my father and he fucked you over. Honest mistake, right?” Hayko felt Nick’s grip choke the gun as evenly as his cold words wound around the room. He clenched his teeth together so hard from the roar of blood in his head, he thought they might crack when Nick would finally pull the trigger. 

Father?

Nick laughed, watching Eladio arm jerk to realization and go for his waist. “But you were stupid enough to trust me and that one’s on you.” 

The bang erupted before he had seen him raise the gun again. And another, and another, until Hayko had slid down to the ground, shielding his ears from the explosions with his palms tight against his temples. 

The first gunshot had brought him from fading away into the warmth of unconsciousness. Now, he couldn’t differentiate one sound from the other. Eladio talking, no, that was Nick. Eladio had hit the ground, collapsing backwards—or forwards, no difference. He could feel the warmth seeping out and he was so close to them. The air stunk of blood and the residue of the flashes still pulsating every time he blinked and all he did was hold on tighter and tighter, praying it would all end soon. 

Bang bang bang bang—

Eventually, he clamped his ears in hopes that the world would fade away, brushing past him noiselessly. It wasn’t until he felt the warmth of a finger brush his cheek after however long it had been that he cracked his eyes open. 

Nick, with his face and clothes pockmarked with red, knelt at his level with a soft expression. 

“We have to go,” he murmured, scratching his cheek and waiting for a reaction. 

Hayko’s hands shook when all he could return was a blank stare. Feeling nothing stirring, Nick’s eyebrows furrowed and he took his jaw in his hand. Hayko moved his elbows defensively to shield his face as the man surveyed him, recovering from the blasts and blood. God, he thought he’d stare at him with that intensity forever.

“You’re in shock.” He stated it, nothing behind the words but clinical observation. 

Hayko only whispered what mimicked a noise of confusion before he felt himself being lifted and lifted and, finally, slung over warmth—his shoulder. His hair fell in front of his eyes like a curtain and he wanted to sink his fingernails into the flesh of the shoulder as a wait, wait a minute, something to make him understand what he couldn’t say. 

Why can’t I say anything? 

What’s happening? 

Nick, however, hadn’t planned this around his silent protests. He maneuvered out of the room, over what Hayko thought was a body when they both moved up, and rushed through the crushing emptiness of the warehouse. He watched the metallic patterns, let the tools envelop his vision, registering only a faint bouncing of hair next to Nick’s shallow breaths until they jerked to a stop at a door. 

A strong hand pushed it open and Hayko braced himself for the blast of cold night air against the bruises and roar of blood in his ears. Diligently, it came and he winced all the same, screwing his eyes shut as Nick waded into the night. 

“A friend’s going to take us from here,” Nick’s voice rumbled against his ribs and he mewled and shifted, bouncing on his shoulder with each step. 

It seemed that over the past two years, things had stopped happening on cue, instead taking him all at once and winding him, too. Life hadn’t gone the way he had wanted it to and every time he had prayed for something, it had come moments too late to the point where he wondered if he had violated some nameless law to become the target of all the wrath in the world. 

But at that second, a few breaths later, two headlights shone through the darkness. The crunch of gravel poked holes in the night and Nick took off in a sprint, shushing Hayko when he gasped and held on tighter. He ran down the path and planted two hands against the passenger seat window. “Roll it down,” he ordered, breathless.  

Hayko couldn’t exactly distinguish the mumbling through the crack of the window but it was enough for Nick to throw open the backseat and let him tumble down. Groaning in pain, he felt the release of what he hadn’t been able to say since the gun had gone off, and let the little noises slip out into the leather as the driver changed seats with Nick. Doors closed and opened with no particular pattern and he felt himself being jostled, his head lifted. 

A breathless laugh came from the driver’s. “Make him comfortable, Russki.” 

Hayko gasped—wheezed, moreso and stopped himself from a hysterical laugh.  

“I have you, do not worry,” Vladimir whispered quickly. His fingers worked just as fast in adjusting his head comfortably and clicking the seatbelt in place for a meager amount of restraint. Hayko buried his head against the leg, grateful the dark could shield his face from his friend, bruises and all. 

With wheels on gravel flow, the initial acceleration and the feeling of being pushed back, the feeling of leaving everything behind, driving really did become meditation with enough time in the car. Hayko, for the first time, felt a few pounds lighter and even if it was his head, it couldn’t have hurt. He let Vlad cradle his head, smooth his hair back as the three dove into the woods. 

He let things fall behind. 

Before they had left though, he thought he had seen a sea of headlights with dark eyes peeking just enough behind each windshield, maybe a gun or two, and he could have sworn he had heard the pounding of those feet against the gravel as they left the compound behind. Weapons loading, skilled preparation, planned preparation. In the empty warehouse, he thought he heard men organizing themselves, paying no attention to Nick. 

If that had seen him, they had ignored him, Hayko realized dimly but wasn’t able to make a connection. Whatever it was, he could deal with it later.  

And still, he let things fall behind and let the darkness take what was left. 

—

Tagging: @doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome--hunter @whumpsorbet @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus @downrivergirl914 @burtlederp 

Ask to be added/removed!

#whump #whump writing #action #character death #guns #blood #shock #broken whumpee #captivity #whumper #noncon touching #nonverbal #going into shock #noncon touch #implied past torture

[scraregenrecs]

SC Tropefest Fest Rareships/Gen Roundup!

There were so many rare and gen fics in @sctropefest – 26 to be exact, or 31.91% of the total works! We've compiled them here for your reading pleasure, and also spotlighted some honorable mentions at the very end that were primarily David/Patrick, but featured rare sideplots. Happy reading!

A Whole Lot To Gain by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Ted/Alexis, Alexis & David, Patrick & Alexis (background David/Patrick), G, 1,721 words

A story about identity, gender, and coming out.

and my task’s but begun by treepyful, Twyla & her mother, T, 16,109 words

Twyla was seven years old and missing a front tooth when her father left.

A look into Twyla's stories.

Budd is a dud! Vote Sands. by samwhambam, Stevie/Twyla, T, 7,718 words

Her and Twyla are friends. Not great friends. But friends who get high together at parties and have known each other for a long time. And up until right now, she thought they were better friends than a shitty, mean campaign slogan.

The enemies to lovers fic where Stevie and Twyla are both running for the same seat on town council.

(but if baby, i'm the bottom) you're the top by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, E, 3,681 words

Alexis knows what people assume about them.

They see Twyla's bright café smile at work, and listen to how readily she agrees to whatever her customers want. They watch how Twyla hangs back during get-togethers, freeing up room for Alexis to take the spotlight and captivate the crowd. They notice how Alexis towers over Twyla in her heels, and how she's always one step ahead of her steady, cautious girlfriend.

But they don't know what it's like when they're together.

OR: Five times Twyla tops Alexis, and one time she lets Alexis top her.

Captive on the carousel of time by designatedgrape, Stevie/Twyla, Gwen & Twyla (background David/Patrick), T, 11,156 words

The predictability of Schitt’s Creek and the routines of the people who live here have always been a comfort to Twyla. In a life that has been full of uncertainty, she appreciates that there are things she can always count on. So when Jocelyn walks in at 3:07, it isn’t a surprise. At least, not at first.

“What can I get for you, Jocelyn?”

“Oh, I think I’m going to need an extra-large coffee to get through the rest of the day, Twyla. I’m headed right back over to the school to set up for tonight.”

Twyla nods and turns to start making Jocelyn’s coffee. “What’s tonight?”

“Graduation.”

Twyla pauses and looks back at Jocelyn. “Um, I think you might be a little confused. Graduation was last night.”

come home to my heart by davidbrewer, Ted/Alexis, G, 1,822 words

“Oh, my god — Ted?”

Her own voice echoes in her ears and she’s suddenly standing, dumbfounded, outside Cafe Tropical almost seven years ago. Watching Ted step into the bistro felt eerily similar to watching him step off that motorcycle for the first time. It’s the kind of shock that makes the sparkling restaurant tile quake under her Louboutins.

Except, this time, the feelings bubbling to her chest are now far more nuanced than she knows how to process — no amount of personal growth or number of self-care retreats with Oprah could’ve prepared her to suddenly come face-to-face with the first person she ever loved more than herself.

OR: Alexis has a blind date. It's not what she EX-pected.

Deadpool Strikes Back! How One Merc For Hire Sticks It to an Army of Goons, One Annoying Narrator, and The Worst Villain of All: Self-Doubt by doingthemost, Stevie/Ruth, T, 1,340 words

WAZZUP!?@ 🤯 If you're reading this, you're probably thinking, "What the hell? Stevie's Deadpool?!"

The answer's YES! 🤗 And she's pissed, and not just 'cause a bunch of goons hijacked her girlfriend. 🤬 No: the worst thing of all is the narrator she has to deal with all along the way. 🤡 Buckle up, buckos, it's a bumpy ride!

AND DON'T FORGET TO LISTEN TO THE PODFIC!! AND OOH, DID I MENTION THERE'S ART?!

didn’t ask for this--you freely gave it (so now i watch your mouth for both of us) by Yellow_Bird_On_Richland, Alexis/Twyla, T, 6,371 words

Alexis chops her name down to three letters like it's nothing.

Twyla thinks about it a lot.

everyday the hold is getting tighter (and it troubles me so) by budd, Stevie/Ruth, M, 1,228 words

Stevie and Ruth end up sharing the last bed at the newest addition to Rosebud Motel Group.

Gonna Watch You Shine by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Johnny & Stevie, G, 1,127 words

Found Family Feelings: The Johnny & Stevie edition.

heaven is a place not too far away by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, Ted/Alexis (Previous), Alexis/Mutt (Previous), Alexis & David, Alexis & Moira (background David/Patrick), T, 8,267 words

"Oh, but soulmate marks are real." Her mother's expression softens. "Always one-sided, unfortunately. So difficult to know when you've truly met your soulmate without a matching indicator on the part of the other person, or other persons, if you're following." Her mother winks, and Alexis makes a face. "Your father was the exact same way. The poor little lamb couldn't carry a tune until he met me!"

"So you and Dad..." Alexis' head is spinning. "You guys are, like, actual soulmates."

"Very much so." Her mother appraises her carefully. "And you must have met yours, too."

"Yeah." Alexis blinks, stunned to find that she's short of breath. "I guess so."

OR: Alexis' soulmate mark – the ability to sing – triggers when she moves to Schitt's Creek.

i always felt i must look better in the rear view by davidbrewer, Alexis & David, Alexis/Twyla, David/Patrick, Alexis & David & Johnny & Moira, T, 13,152 words

“I have everything I need right here,” Twyla says, and something very fond stirs in Alexis’s chest. “I don’t need to wish for anything else. But you… You have big dreams, Alexis, and… If anyone deserves to have their wishes come true, it’s you. I want you to have it.”

OR: When her family's past stands in the way of a career opportunity, Alexis makes a wish that completely upends their lives all over again... but is it really what she wants?

If Hell Had a Creek by High-Seas-Swan, sonlali, sunlightsymphony, Gen, T, 9,139 words

After losing everything, the Roses are forced to move to their only remaining asset, the town of Schitt's Creek. Also, the town is on the Hellmouth, and Alexis is the Slayer.

If You Could See The Other Side Of Me by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Stevie/Alexis, Stevie & David (background David/Patrick) T, 3,473 words

Stevie has a teeny, tiny little celebrity crush.

It doesn't mean anything.

In The Running by floosilver8, Stevie/Twyla, M, 3,587 words

Stevie and Twyla run against each other for Town Council.

No Dress Rehearsals by kindofspecificstore, Patrick & Ted, Patrick/Rachel, Miguel/Ted, Patrick/David, G, 3,770 words

Life Happens to Ted and Patrick, and music is one of the things that helps them through it. Discovering a mutual love for the Tragically Hip forges a kind of friendship neither of them had before.

Or, just two boys talking about their feelings in a Tim Horton's parking lot.

putting roots in my dreamland by lilythesilly, Alexis/Twyla, G, 4,078 words

“Are roses your favorite flower?” Twyla asks, setting it down.

“Mm, no, but they’re kind of my brand?” she says, picking it up to snap a picture on her phone. “And as cute as it would be to have a peony in my logo, my company isn’t named ‘Alexis Peony Communications.”

“So, Alexis...Rose?” Twyla puts together, the name sounding vaguely familiar. Alexis nods, taking a photo at a different angle. “Well, I’m Twyla. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Twyla,” Alexis says slowly. Twyla loves the sound of her name in Alexis’s voice. “Nice to meet you.”

--

a twylexis flowershop au

Rollin’ With the Homies by doingthemost, Alexis/Twyla, Stevie/Ruth, Ted/Miguel (background David/Patrick), T, 9,917 words

So I know it seems like I live in this, like, super privileged world. Or maybe, like, a rip-off of The O.C. – or even worse, Laguna Beach, ugh! But I swear, I have a totally normal life!

Alexis Rose is just your totally average 16 year old with two annoying older siblings, David and Stevie, and a totally normal crush on her best friend, Twyla Sands. It's completely chill. She isn't, like, totally buggin'.

AKA: the Clueless AU.

Taste of a Poison Paradise by lilythesilly, Alexis/Twyla, M, 15,107 words

“Where have you been?” Stevie yells, kicking someone in the face and sending them over the railing.

“Stealing fireworks,” Rachel grunts, grabbing a stray piece of pipe off of the floor and bringing another one of them to their knees before delivering a swift roundhouse kick to their face.

“Oooh, these are fireworks?” Alexis grins with a small shimmy. “Love that for us.”

Green vines encircle the railings and Twyla jumps over it a second later. “I got the cane plus some other stuff,” she says, tossing it and another bag to Alexis and wrapping one of the ones around a guy trying to climb the railing to get up to them, dropping him onto the floor. “Let’s go.”

--

Be gay, do crimes but make it a Harley Quinn AU

The Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch by Amanita_Fierce, dairaliz, danieljradcliffe, DelilahMcMuffin, doingthemost, fairmanor, fishyspots, foxtails, GodOfLaundryBaskets, hagface, High-Seas-Swan (FangLang), hullomoon, Januarium, KiwianaPods (kiwiana), middyblue (daisyblaine), nontoxic, RhetoricalQuestions, roguebaby, schittposting, ships_to_sail, singsongsung, SparklesMagicLightLove, sunlightsymphony, thetomkatwholived, yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana), Alexis/Twyla, Jake/Rachel, Ted/Miguel, Stevie/Ruth, David/Patrick, M, 26,226 words

Hello, I am Wendy Kurtz, proprietor of the Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch, the world’s premier spot for couples looking to get a speedy divorce and connect with other soon-to-be divorcees.

I’d like to highlight the stories of five couples, who rearranged into five other couples, from some past summer. These ten people came to the Blouse Barn Divorce Ranch with the intention of ending a marriage, and got that and so much more.

I could recount their journeys with 100% accuracy, but where’s the fun in that? Let’s let them tell us themselves.

OR: One crazy summer in Las Vegas brings the heat and then some.

The Devil’s Work is Never Done by doingthemost and schittposting, Alexis or Stevie or Twyla/Reader, Gen, 68 words

If you were faced with temptation, what would you do?

The Guestbook of David and Patrick Rose-Brewer, by sonlali, Gen, T, 900 words

“A home isn't always the house we live in. It's also the people we choose to surround ourselves with.” — The House in the Cerulean Sea

A look through the entries in David and Patrick's wedding guestbook

Through Someone Else’s Eyes by yourbuttervoicedbeau, Alexis & David, T, 1,351 words

It's all Mr Hockley's fault.

The tea was supposed to get him high, not make him wake up in his sister's body.

To the end of the reckoning by dinnfameron, Patrick & Ronnie, T, 1,308 words

He should get David a coffee. He could deliver it to the motel, see how he’s doing. His arm is raised halfway to flag Twyla down when he catches himself. David doesn’t want to see him right now. He may never want to see Patrick ever again. The thought makes him sick.

“Brewer.” Patrick turns at the sound of his name. There aren’t many people in this town who call him that, and sure enough, there’s Ronnie Lee at a table near the front. He’d missed her, somehow.

“You look like shit,” she says.

[art] you know what they say: better late than never by budd, Alexis/Twyla, G, 274 words

While unpacking her boxes to move into Alexis' apartment in New York City, Twyla finds a stash of her old business cards from when she wrote a column for young members of the LGBTQIA+ community in The Advocate.

You’d be the love of my life by doingthemost and sonlali, Alexis/Twyla, M, 6,650 words

Alexis needs a date to a last-minute Interflix party on Valentine's Day so she can make Zac Efron jealous. Naturally, she asks her best friend and crush, Twyla, to pretend to be her girlfriend for the event. What could possibly go wrong?

BONUS CONTENT:

We wanted to also highlight some fics that are David/Patrick centric, but also include a rarepair side plot! These could be a great place to start for those who haven’t dipped their toe into rarepairs yet, but are intrigued by the idea.

I Waited My Whole Life by agoodperson, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, T, 23,402 words

David is just going to have to come up with something, because there is just no way that he can let Patrick Brewer catch him going to another of the town's many weddings on his own.

Wheel of Fortune: New York Edition! by middyblue, David/Patrick and Alexis/Twyla, T, 10,521 words

Patrick spends his evenings with his new roommate Stevie watching NY1's Wheel of Fortune spin-off hosted by Johnny and David Rose, until one day he accidentally bumps into David Rose himself on the train and starts to fill in some of the blank spaces in his life.

You Happened by lilythesilly, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, T, 54,271 words

David Rose is many things: talented, creative, fashion-forward, well read—the list can go on, but at the very top of that list is Extremely Rich. So he doesn’t understand why his father is making him work at Rose Video—or why Patrick Brewer, a boy he's had virtually no interaction with since they were twelve, is suddenly always around.

An enemies-to-coworkers-to-friends-to-lovers high school au.

You Look Like a Movie, You Sound Like a Song by fishyspots, E, David/Patrick and Stevie/Twyla, 18,683 words

David has often wished, at first seriously and then more cynically as he grew older, that his life was a rom com. It takes longer than he'd like, frankly, but the universe calls his bluff.

You’re the star at the top of my tree by schittposting, T, David/Patrick and Alexis/Twyla, 10,392 words

Patrick Brewer comes to Schitt's Creek with a goal: drive Rose Apothecary out of business so Christmas World can take over its space. He's not counting on falling for its owner.

Happy reading friends! x

#schitt's creek #sc tropefest #sctropefest #sc fanworks #sc fanfic #sc fic #sc fanfiction #schitt's creek fanfiction #schitt's creek fanfic #schitt's creek fic #alexis rose #twyla sands #stevie budd #ruth clancy #ronnie lee #patrick brewer #david rose #ted mullens #jake #rachel #miguel #jake x rachel #rachel x jake #ted x miguel #miguel x ted #ted x alexis #alexis x ted #tedlexis #alexis x twyla #twyla x alexis

[thatesqcrush]

Gods & Monsters

Nevada Ramirez x Reader. Sequel to After Midnight.  CW: smut, hurt/comfort, physical violence (slap), language, dubcon references. AN: This fills the cock warming square in my kink bingo.

WC: 1489

He was the relationship that was not supposed to happen. You were the quintessential goodie goodie, the girl next door who never broke a rule. You didn’t do drugs, you barely drank, and you didn’t so much even have a parking ticket.

But you had been through a rash of bad luck – lost your job and got dumped. At your friend’s insistence, you decided to join her at trendiest club in all of New York City. First a round of tequila shots was ordered; the second and third included a mix of cocktails and beers. 

What followed was a one night stand with the club’s owner, Nevada “El Trujillo” Ramirez. The drug lord was a fearsome man who did not let anything get in his way in getting what he wanted. And that night, in his seedy club, with all the men and women that he could have his pick of - he wanted you. 

And now you were the girlfriend of the self-proclaimed King of the Heights.

It had been three weeks since you last saw Nevada. Nevada and his crew had gone on yet another raid in the Heights. It was always the same – you would come home (to his apartment) to an empty apartment with a half-assed note saying he’d be back. At some point he would text you “143” and you knew that he was okay. Sometimes he would come home in one piece, other times, a bit tattered and torn with an occasional shine (no big deal) or a bullet hole (a much bigger deal). 

But he always came back. And he was never gone for more than a week’s time. 

Now, it had been three weeks. No texts. No nothing. Nevada was a powerful man who made many enemies along the way. Miguel, Nevada’s right hand was ordered to stay behind to keep an eye on things – and you. You pleaded with Miguel but even Miguel had no idea of what was going on. “He usually sends me some kind of heads up lil mama, but it’s been radio silent. Lo siento.” 

You crossed your arms against your chest. “I am worried. It’s never been this long.” 

“Me too.” Miguel replied. “Me too.” 

--

 Another week passed by. Then another. And then two more followed. 

You were near delirious with worry. You tried to focus at your new job, but your concentration was off and you felt like you had the memory of a goldfish. With Nevada’s money, you didn’t need to work but he respected that you wanted to earn your own keep. Thankfully, there was always a legal assistant job out there and your line of work on more than one occasion, helped Nevada when he was toeing dangerously across the line. 

You trudged back to your apartment, worn out and weary. Miguel came around to pick you up when you got out as he always did, but you rebuked him, preferring to take the long subway ride from downtown Manhattan to The Bronx. 

The dark silent apartment didn’t bother you anymore. If anything, it offered solitude to quiet your racing mind. You dropped your keys in the little bowl on the table next to the door and shrugged off your sweater. You reached down to take off your booties and you groaned in relief as you rubbed your aching feet. You sniffed the air – something smelled different. “What the fuck?” You wondered out loud. 

“Your voice is like music in my ear ma’.”

You jumped and then squinted. “Nevada?” The apartment lights switched on and there was Nevada in the corner sitting in the corner, one hand holding a smoldering cigar, the other, with a glass of something amber colored. 

“Maldita sea la madre! Hijo de la gran puta! Where the fuck have you been?” You hollered as you marched over. Nevada stood and in two giant steps, had you in his arms. You struggled for a bit and before jerking your hand free. You smacked him across the face so hard, your hand stung. 

“That’s the kind of welcome home I get?” Nevada spat, grabbing your face. He had prepared himself that he wouldn’t get a warm reception but this was not what he had expected at all. And then what followed – he didn’t expect at all.  

You crumpled to the ground, sobbing in relief that he was there – he was real. The smack across his handsome face did occur and you weren’t hallucinating. 

“Oh Y/N,” he murmured. “My sweet princesa.” He dropped to the ground and picked you up into his arms. He sat there on the ground, holding you as you sobbed. Nevada pressed his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent. You smelled like warm vanilla and cinnamon and any hardened resolve he had, melted away.

“I thought you had died.” You continued to sob, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Splashes of warm drops dripped down, soaking his shirt. You pulled away, and you stared into Nevada’s eyes, which were shiny and wet as well. You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. Nevada nodded. “I am so sorry; I got caught up and the Feds closed in and --.” 

You shook your head. “It doesn’t matter – you are here. I love you and missed you so much.” 

“Shh, I am here now. I am not going anywhere.” Nevada rumbled as he stroked your hair. His hands moved up your sides, feeling your rib cage and then to your back, feeling the knobs of your spine. He could feel that you had lost weight. And then, before you could even think your next thought, Nevada enveloped you completely into a tight embrace. You pulled away and moved up to kiss him. Nevada groaned, returning the kiss. The kiss became more heated and he tangled his hands in your hair. You pushed his shirt up, desperate to feel more of him. 

“La cama, ahora.” Nevada growled and you nodded. He stood and you followed, making way to the bedroom. Clothes flew off and you both tumbled back onto the bed, a mess of limbs. Hands touched everywhere. Nevada rolled you, so he was on top and he hungrily kissed you before moving down your body, leaving wet kisses across your clavicle and down your sternum. A small growl rumbled from his chest as he circled your nipple with his tongue, before taking it into his mouth. He used his other hand to pinch and roll your other nipple. Nevada took his time, leisurely playing with your breasts, stimulating you with various intensities of touch. You whimpered and mewled under his touch as he kept going - sucking, touching, rubbing, squeezing, and stroking. Your skin was flushed with arousal. Finally you spoke up, unable to take anymore. 

“Nevada please… I just need to feel you inside of me.” You pleaded.  

Nevada pushed one leg up over you and he fisted his cock. “Whatever mami wants, mami gets.”  He stroked your soaking wet cunt with the head of his cock, before pushing in. You gasped as he filled you and then bottomed out. Nevada let out a deep rumble, having missed the sensation of your greedy cunt taking him. 

“Oh my god ‘Vada, oh fuck! Don’t move.” You gasped. Nevada stilled his movements and leaned down to kiss you passionately. You clung to him and he buried his face in your neck. You each wrapped your arms around each other. Nevada was desperate to undulate his hips and when he moved to do so, you wrapped your legs around him tighter. 

“No…” You panted in his ear. “Quédate así por un ratito. I just want to feel you inside of me.” 

Nevada nodded. “Okay.” And like that, with him inside of you, you both stayed there, enjoying the closeness and intimacy.  It was rare that you two ever had a sweet, bonding moment such as this one. Your eyes were shut, enjoying the feeling of fullness from his cock and the pressure of his weight over you. You shifted and Nevada grunted, desperate for more, but also giving you what you wanted. 

Nevada kissed you languidly and you rewarded him but squeezing your muscles. Nevada grunted again. He trembled above you and you knew this wouldn't last much longer.  

“Please,” Nevada begged and you nodded. It only took a few soft thrusts of his hips before he came deep inside of you. You continued to cling to Nevada, and you whimpered as you felt his cum drip out of you. 

“I love you, you stupid asshole.” You replied, a smile twitching across your face. Nevada’s breath hitched and he felt his heart swell at your proclamation.  

“I love you too. Siempre.” Nevada smiled before leaning to kiss you once more.

 --FIN--

Tags: @mgarner1227   @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @delia26 @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90​ @evee87​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom @blk0912 @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader @rachelxwayne @the-hopeless-haze

#thatesqcrush kink bingo #nevada ramirez x reader #trouble in the heights #nevada ramirez x you

[crimsonheart01]

I Don’t Mean to be Rude (Nestor x OC/Reader)

This is dedicated to my sweet love, @snowyandthewitch. A little bit of Nestor never hurt anyone. 

Word Count: 2,153

Playlist: Tonight (I’m Fucking You) - Enrique Iglesias

Warnings: None. 

She spun around on the stool, leaning her elbows back onto the bar and surveyed the crowd surrounding her. She sighed; these weren’t her favourite types of events. She’d sooner be up in her room, catching up on emails or even indulging in a movie to relax. However, this was a work function. She was expected to be here and mingle.

She tipped her glass back, sipping the strong-tasting alcohol. It was a welcome burn after having to be subject to the wildness of the clubs’ partying ways. Her eyes bounced from person to person over the rim of her cup. She fought the roll of her eyes. Between the hangarounds and the rowdiness of the different clubs, she was tired, and she’d only been here for half an hour at most.

She had to close her eyes and remind herself that her being here was a good thing. She was here to help support Galindo and his business. She deflected the multiple advances from several different members. She really wasn’t interested. It wasn’t that she felt they were unappealing. In fact, quite a few of them were very easy to look at. However, it was more that they weren’t in her particular lane. She preferred a much more sophisticated type of criminal. If she were, to be honest.

Her thoughts had her scanning the area again, hoping to find someone – anyone – to converse with. Someone who wasn’t going to tote his motorcycle as his defining feature. She found herself caught by the presence of one man in particular. He stood in stark contrast to those around him. Posted in the entryway, overlooking the crowd from up on the top step.

His braids were his telltale signifier. She appreciated his aesthetic. He fit the bill of ‘Head of Security’ well. She’d been working with Miguel long enough to know that that title wasn’t entirely the truth. She wasn’t privy to all his comings and goings, nor the real role he took within the Cartel, but she knew he was exceptionally good at that job.

When she was hired as an on retainer lawyer, she hadn’t been expecting a Cartel. It was a bit of shock going from blue-collar work to toeing the line between law and order and lawlessness. She found, however, the politics of the criminal world thrilling. The deeply ingrained loyalties, the rivalries and the side deals. Everything was intriguing. She smirked to herself, remembering why she was excited to make this trip with Galindo.

She was about to witness this side of the life in action. Partying, drinking, and disorderly conduct aside, there was a lot to learn here. If it helped her shape the legal side of Galindo’s business than it would be all for the best. Lost in the tangent her thoughts took, she knocked her glass back only to realize it was empty. She sighed and placed it down on the bar behind her, ordering another.

Her gaze flickered back up to the opening staircase and was disappointed to find him gone. She sighed, her only prospect at some semblance of stimulating conversation was gone. She shrugged to herself, picking up the new drink and drinking half of it in one go. She couldn’t say she knew him well. Even after the many months working in close proximity, neither of them had really gotten past polite conversation.

She wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t want to get to know him, but she was more than aware that they represented the two opposite sides of the business. She was the above board representative and she had a feeling he wasn’t the coiffed bodyguard he portrayed. 

She swirled the liquid in her cup, noting the few open acts of a sexual nature and pursed her lips. This definitely wasn’t her thing. She had respect for those around her. Knew it was their prerogative to act as they saw fit. Men and women, alike.  It didn’t mean that she wanted to stick around. It wasn’t her scene. She was a considerably private person. Over the top, PDA was more than enough for her. 

She dropped her empty glass onto the bar and decided it was time to call it a night. Using the bar to aid her in slipping off the chair, she felt the immediate effects of drinking several rounds while sitting. She gripped the counter tightly, while she waited out the swimming sensation in her head. Once she was confidently collected, she threw her shoulders back and weaved her way through the crowd.

She let out a breath of relief when she walked down the quieted hallway, on her way towards the elevators. Out here she could properly hear her own thoughts. Thoughts that were constantly being led in the direction of the silent, tailored, good-looking, Nestor. The man who she just missed. The man who she covertly searched for as she stepped up the stairs. All to no avail. 

Maybe it was the alcohol - or more realistically - the feelings she’d been repressing since meeting him for the first time. But, the mental image of his braids were something she couldn’t shake. She’d been itching to ask him how they were always perfect. Never a flyaway in sight. Shiny and luscious. What would it feel like to twirl the ends around her hands, as he held in a close embrace? She shivered at her own thoughts and stumbled slightly. 

Unfortunately, the heel of her pumps caught a snag on the carpet, and she teetered. Throwing one hand out, she reached blindly to keep herself upright. Her hand came into contact with something hard and warm and she started. There was a small grunt and then a warm hand curled around her wrist, holding her steady.

“Need a hand?” Nestor smirked, his voice low and gravelly as always.

She let out an astonished laugh. Hadn’t she just been lamenting the lost chance to have a stimulating conversation with this very man? Was she not just having lustful thoughts about him and those braids. Now here she was, a bit more than tipsy, and fighting to keep her heart rate at a regular pace. 

She inhaled deeply, curled her hand into his shirt and used him as an anchor as she tugged her heel out of the carpet. She felt his body tense to accommodate for her added weight and it sent her blood rushing.

Both of them were perpetually prepared and tailored. It wasn’t often that they let down their masks of professionalism. Which was precisely why she was struggling to hide the grin forming as she watched his expression. Not to mention those pesky emotions valiantly trying to make themselves known. 

She placed her foot back down on the floor, balanced herself out and let go of his shirt, letting her hand fall away. He reacted in kind, his hand unfurling and letting her wrist go. He offered her a crooked smile, mirth evident in his eyes. She rolled her eyes at him.

“Don’t say a word.” She warned. 

It wasn’t often that she got to see the relaxed version of Nestor and she couldn’t say she disliked it. There were a handful of occasions that she witnessed his playfulness and she thoroughly enjoyed it. She was glad on some level, that he’d allowed himself a chance to turn off while on this trip. Miguel was well taken care of and she knew how hard Nestor worked. A bit of break was good for everyone. 

He held out his forearm to her, allowing her to choose to take the help or not. She smiled at his arm and then up at him. She linked her arm around his and stepped into his side. 

“I’ll walk you back up to your room?” He asked her, wanting her to know that he wasn’t going to impose on her. 

She nodded, “Thanks, I’d like that.” 

Arm in arm, they walked in silence towards the lobby and she watched as he pressed the call button. She felt his arm shift, the muscles in his biceps contracting around her arm. She chuckled to herself quietly, attempting to keep herself from swooning.

The elevator doors open and together they stepped through. She pressed the number for her floor and as she was stepped back to stand beside him, the elevator jerked and she slipped. She spun on her toes, grabbing the collar of Nestor’s shirt and pulling herself up as his own hands caught her by the waist to keep her from losing traction on the tiled floor. 

Her breathing was heavy as she realized how exceptionally close they stood. She stared directly at his lips. Full and slightly parted. A small kiss, a test, was surely ok? She flicked her eyes up to his and noticed the same emotion being echoed back at her. Was it possible they were curious about the same things? 

Whatever could have happened, didn’t. The elevator came to a stop and dinged, indicating they’d arrived on her floor. Exhaling through her nose, she immediately let go of his shirt and took a slow step backwards. She turned and exited the lift, leaving behind the possibilities of where their night could’ve gone. 

“Oceteva.” She regarded him in a glance over her shoulder, offering a nod as farewell and acknowledgement simultaneously. 

The doors began to close and as she moved to walk away, she noted as Nestor’s hand shot out and caught the door, forcing it back open. She furrowed her brow as she looked back at him. He licked his lips. His eyes darting from her collar down to her shoes and back again. 

“Nestor.” He spoke, “It’s Nestor.” 

He finally met her eyes and held it firm in his own. His eyes reflecting heat and lust back at her. Or, she was reading into her own fantasy and hoping that’s what she was seeing. He stepped forward, out of the elevator and a few feet away from her. 

“Call me Nestor.” He continued, “Oceteva will make what I’m planning to do next seem improper.” 

She narrowed her eyes in confusion when he stepped forward, reaching out a hand and cupping her cheek. His eyes shone in the dimmed light in the hallway. She swallowed, every late-night fantasy she ignored suddenly coming to life. 

“Nestor.” She breathed. 

His eyes tracked the movement of her lips as she spoke his name, “Tell me no, and I’ll walk away. Forget this ever happened.”  

She blinked, registering what he was saying and closed the distance between them. She hooked her hand around the back of his neck and slid one leg between his. She tilted her chin up and met his mouth in an inquisitive kiss. The shock that ran through her at his touch was electrifying. 

His hand on her face cradled her until the heat kicked in. Gone was the curious nature of the embrace. He backed her up, his free hand coming around to grip her hip. Her back hit the wall with a thud and they broke apart, each eliciting a gasp in synchronization. He loomed forward, his eyes black with lust and captured her mouth in a passionate kiss. His tongue slipping out to lick along the seam of her lips. She let out a stifled moan, inching her fingers up into his hair and tangling them. He grunted in pleasure at the tug and pulled back. 

“Room?” He panted, ready to drag her somewhere more private. 

She thrust her clutch at him, indicating her room key was in there and pointed down the left corridor, “435.” 

He abruptly backed away from her, yanking her hand out of his hair and using that hand to tug her down the hallway. She kept in step with him, thankful for the many years of wearing heels. Reaching her door, he made quick work of the large wallet and jammed the card into the lock and shoved it open when the light flashed green. He tossed the clutch into the darkroom at random and whipped his arm around her hips, dragging her back into him. 

He grinned down at her. An expression of mischievousness on his face. She laughed breathlessly up at him. In all her wildest fantasies, she never once pictured him without the mask of indifference. This carefree version of Nestor sending her into throws. 

He leaned down, kissing her hard. Nipping at her bottom lip. She groaned into the kiss, pouting when he moved away again. He backed into them her room before kicked the door shut and cascading them into darkness. He spun her around, pushing her into the wall again. This time he pushed her legs open and lifted the hem of her dress up her thighs. 

“He estado soñando con esto querida.” He murmured. 

She threw her head back, letting out a strangled gasp at his admission. 

“Me too.” 

**translation: I’ve been dreaming about this, querida**

#nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva imagine #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva imagines #mayans mc imagines

[imagineredwood]

Request: Imagine the reader in love with Angel and Miguel 

Pairing: Miguel and Angel x reader 

Warnings: Angst like a mf. 

Word count: 2.1k

*I purposefully left the character unnamed so that the reader can make their own choice. It's left open to interpretation for whoever you think is the better choice or who you prefer, even if they aren't the better choice lol I’ll let y’all live out your own fantasy*

“I got you something, mi amor.”

You turned away from the balcony and the view of the valley to face Miguel as he walked up behind you, a small white velvet box in his hand. It was clear from the box that whatever was inside was jewelry and you tilted your head, pursing your lips.

“Miguel, I told you to stop with the random gifts.”

The man simply smiled, one hand holding the box out to you while the other took away your mimosa.

“Just a little treat. No harm in it.”

You sighed quietly, a frown pushing onto your lips no matter how hard you tried to hide it.

“I appreciate it, Miguel, but I don’t need gifts all the time. They’re nice but,”

You trailed off, already having had this conversation a handful of times with the cartel leader, so much so that he filled in the rest for you.

“They’re nice but they don’t do anything for me.”

You looked away from the box in your hands and up to him, his smile now gone and replaced with a stoic veil. He was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he spoke.

“I do it to show you what you mean to me. It isn’t about the money. I could call an assistant and have them pick up gifts for you that cost ten times that necklace, but I don’t. I pick out these gifts for you myself. I put thought and effort and love into them, and you just…”

The man chuckled darkly to himself, shaking his head as he placed your mimosa down none too gently on the table, the yellow liquid sloshing around in the crystal glass. Some spilled over the edge and dripped down the side as Miguel walked away from you, choosing to lean on the railing of the balcony and overlook the landscape rather than look at you. You stayed watching him though, silent and now knowing what to say. After a moment, Miguel spoke again.

“I don’t know how else to make you see how good I can be for you. I take care of you, I look after you, I love you. I love you. And you brush it off to be with that fucking low life piece of shit. Like he could ever love you in the way that I love you. Like he could ever give you the life that I can give you. Record a mile long, rolling around in grease and junk for a living-“

“That’s enough.”

The sheer venom in your voice had Miguel finally turning to face you once again, his shoulders sagging. A typically put together man now showing signs of exhaustion. He was tired. Tired of chasing you only to know you were with Angel. Tired of demonstrating all of the ways that he could give you the love and life you deserved, only for you to pull away whenever things got too serious. He was tired of being committed to you, putting his all into you, only to know that he was only getting half because the other fifty percent went to the oldest Reyes brother. He inhaled deeply through his nose before blowing it out of his mouth. He tossed his head back, rolling his neck a couple of times before he looked back toward you, and indifferent look on his face.

“I’m not going to continue doing this with you. I love you, but I won’t trail after you forever. I try to be what you need. I try to be more gentle, more patient, more understanding. I do whatever I have to do to show you that you are what I want, that a future with you is what I want and you just brush it off like it means nothing to you. Like I mean nothing to you.”

Miguel huffed and shook his head, taking a step forward and grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

“Miguel,”

He held his hand up to you, cutting you off before shrugging into his navy-blue suit jacket, pulling his sunglasses from the pocket and slipping them on. He took the three steps up to where you were, hand coming up to cradle your cheek as he looked down at you.

“You need to pick who you want, corazon. And quickly.”

With that, he pulled away. No kiss to the forehead like he usually did. Just walked past you to the door of the penthouse, pulling it open and leaving you there to stand in the same spot. Your eyes watered slightly, feeling torn in opposite directions. Hurting Miguel was never your intention, making him feel as though you didn’t care for him wasn’t either, but standing by while disrespected Angel wasn’t something you were prepared to do either. You loved them both deeply and it was clear that the situation was starting to wear on his just as much as it had been wearing on you. Clutching your hand, you felt something in it and realized that you still held the jewelry box, the gift forgotten in the heat of the argument. It only added to the guilt you felt, knowing that he had bought you a gift that you hadn’t even bothered to open or thank him for before shit had hit the fan. Prying the box open, you looked down and closed your eyes sadly. In the middle hung a beautiful necklace, a white gold chain with your birthstone handing from the pendent. The diamond was gorgeous, multifaceted and glimmering in the morning sun. The reflection scattered light patterns along the balcony, and you sighed as the waiter came out to the balcony, a smile on his face.

“Mr. Galindo said he had to go but that you’re more than welcome to stay and enjoy the food and view. Everything is on his tab so just let us know if you need anything.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“You good?”

You looked over at Angel and forced a smile.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Ok. I know you’re lying but that’s ok.”

You chuckled as Angel spoke back, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiled, happy to have been able to get you to laugh. What was weighing on you, he wasn’t sure, but he was able to tell something was off the moment you had walked out of your house and gotten onto the back of his bike. It was supposed to have been just a quick outing for ice cream, but your aura had told Angel you needed a little something more. Now here you were, sitting on the sand at the beach, watching the sunset. You were both smiling, enjoying each other’s company. It was welcomed after the morning you’d had. As luck would have it though, he looked down at your chest and his smile fell as he looked away from you.

“Nice necklace.”

You looked down at your chest, the chain hanging down and stopping above your breasts, the diamond glittering in the sunlight. Looking back over, your eyes fell on Angel, an unreadable look on his face. The only thing you could read was that he wasn’t happy. You stayed quiet, not telling him who had gotten you the necklace, you were positive he already knew. The tone of his voice as he gave the compliment told you he was well aware.

“Thanks.”

A silence fell over you both as you stared at the pink and oranges hue of the sky, the sun almost touching the horizon. You reached over and took Angel’s hand, holding it in yours and he let you, squeezing as you both stayed watching the sunset. The sun traveled down, further and further until it disappeared, the sky now pink, purple and blue. A sharp gust of wind blew, and you shivered at the salty air, pulling your hand from Angel’s and wrapping your arms around yourself. He looked over and shrugged off both his kutte and the flannel he was wearing. He pulled the kutte back on over his white undershirt and then reached over, placing the flannel over your shoulders and running his hands over the tops of your arms.

“We can get going if you want.”

You nodded softly, eyes locked with his. You couldn’t help but wince as you saw the dullness of his eyes, the twinkle he usually wore gone ever since he noticed that necklace. Standing, you snuggled into the garment and followed behind him, trekking through the sand until you got to the parking lot where his bike was. Angel hopped on first, you getting on behind him and wrapping your arms around him, feelings of guilt already tainting the beautiful evening you’d had with Angel. All because you had foolishly forgotten to take off the necklace Miguel had gotten you this morning. Angel looked over at you, waiting for you to get on the bike, his face looking just as tired as Miguel’s had this morning. Holding your hands together in front of you, your fingers messing with the fabric of his shirt, you looked into his eyes.

“I love you, Angel.”

The Mayan nodded, looking away from you and back into the sky, unable to hide a wince.

“Yeah. I know.”

You noticed he didn’t say it back and while you understood, his anger not wanting to extend that kindness back to you, you couldn’t help the pang of hurt that you felt at being denied the words you were so used to hearing him speak. Hanging your head, you walked around the bike and hopped on behind him, arms wrapped around him but your hands holding each other rather than him. It didn’t feel like you deserved to touch him right now. He slowly pulled out of the parking lot and began the ride to take you back home. The fact that he took the quickest route wasn’t lost on you. As he rode, you held onto him and drowned in your thoughts, knowing that you were going to have to make your decision. You loved them both, their personalities being so very diverse and yet their love for you was much the same. Real and raw, passionate and unrelenting. Your inability to pick was hurting everyone involved and you decided then that you were going to have to choose. To decide who you were going to flourish with and who you were going to let down. It wouldn’t be easy, but it needed to be done. Your mind drifted between the two men, their smiles and warmth making your heart clench. Before long Angel was pulling into your driveway and you climbed off as quickly as you could, not wanting to force him to deal with you any longer than he wanted to. You pulled off his flannel, quickly folding it and tucking it into the saddlebag before pulling away, giving a soft and forced smile as you walked toward your front door.

“Thank you, Angel.”

He caught your hand at the last minute, his fingers wrapping themselves around yours as you turned back to look at him. He sighed and shook his head, fingers squeezing yours.

“I love you too.”

His words made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. You settled for saying nothing and simply squeezed his fingers in return. With a sad smile, you nodded, and he let your hand go, arm hanging down by his side as he waited for you to get into your house safely. With the door locked, you heard Angel pull out of your driveway and you groaned, an overwhelming feeling of guilt coming over you. Stalking off to your room, you undressed and started running a bath, looking at yourself in the mirror, hating how today had gone. It was inevitable, you’d known that the moment you had realized you’d fallen for the both of them. You just never thought that it would hurt this bad. Wiping gently at the corner of your eye, you climbed into the bathtub and let your head lull back, eyes slipping closed as you thought everything over in your head. Who would make you happier, who you felt loved you more, who would grow with you best in the future. You sat there until your fingers were pruned and finally you stepped out, going about your nighttime routine in a daze, simply going through the motions while your brain was somewhere else entirely. Finally, you were finished and made your way into your bedroom, sitting on the bed and grabbing your phone, starring down at it.

Making up your mind, you unlocked it and opened your contacts, tapping the screen on the name of the man that had captured your heart just that little bit more. The man that you wanted to grow old with.

#angel reyes #miguel galindo #Mayans MC #angel x reader #miguel x reader #mayans imagine #mayans fx #imagines

[keeponshouting]

After Infection

This is a rewrite and hopefully eventual completion of a massive multiverse mash-up of my OCs with a couple belonging to @whenromancesmoked and a few others from back in the day. I have absolutely no idea if anyone else is going to be interested in reading this (ok, I know a few people who will probably read it) but psh. I’m having fun and want to share.

Note: This is also a George Romero tribute of sorts. Like I started it for giggles because my PB for one of the characters was in the Dawn of the Dead remake and it just snowballed, which I guess means I should throw a WARNING: ZOMBIES sign up here or something. Anyway!

After Infection: Dawn of the Dead

It had seemed like a good idea at the time – or, well, more accurately, it had seemed like the right thing to do. There was a request from fellow hunters in a small town a few hours’ drive south and things had been quiet lately back home so Nate had figured that they could spare the time and energy. Besides, Dennis had been going pretty stir crazy for a while. Even if it was a hunt, it would be a good excuse to get out on the road for a while, a sort of vacation.

It had not turned out even remotely like a vacation.

They had been a little too late to the original party but apparently just in time for things to get much, much worse. Nate had brought a variety of tools just in case but he had primarily been prepared for an infestation of what locals called “hell rats,” a creature that was pretty common in the south and usually pretty easy to handle if you found their nests quickly enough. Sure they were venomous but as long as you were careful… He had not been expecting an infestation of zombies.

“The lot looks pretty clear right now.” Dennis is hunched over at the door, using the peephole to take a quick survey of the goings on outside their hotel room while Nate brews a second pot of coffee to get him through whatever the morning brings. After all, as long as decent coffee is available, he might as well take advantage of it. Lord knows he might have to go without for a while and God help his poor boyfriend’s patience if that happens.

When Dennis stands up straight again, his head is just about even with the top of the doorframe and he yawns as he leans back against the door, arms crossed over his chest. “So, come up with any plans yet or are we still waiting for the caffeine to kick in?”

Nate snorts into his cup and foregoes actually taking a drink for the moment in order to respond. “You ask that like I have any idea what sort of plan to use here. I’ve met exactly zero hunters who’ve actually had to handle zombies in the past decade at least. I honestly don’t think they’ve ever been a problem this far north before.”

“Well, there sure are a lot around here for something that’s never been a problem.”

“Some forms of infection can spread at an exponential rate in populated areas.” He drains a good half of the coffee in hand. “Our best bet is probably just to find out if there are any other non-infected people anywhere around here.”

Dennis flops across the bed, face down, with a muffled grunt.

Nate just silently continues drinking as the percolator finally finishes beside him and he very seriously considers making a third pot, just in case.

---

Zombies – shambling, groaning, flesh-eating, nearly Hollywood perfect zombies. For fuck’s sake. This should have been such an easy fucking job and now there are zombies.

Viktor strings together another line of curses, voice little more than a low growl, as he chambers another cartridge. Beside him, a terrified little girl whimpers. He simply scowls, sets Glock number one aside, lights a cigarette, and pulls out number two. “Zatraceně zasraný vědci.” Leaning over toward the window, he catches sight of a proper target and empties the last bullet into the back of its skull. What a fucking cliché.

This was supposed to be simple. They had agreed on that fact the moment that the specifications of the job had crossed the table. It should have been routine, easy money. Three towns, three targets, each plan the same; get rid of the scientist, call their employer, and let the clean-up crew come in and deal with the rest. The first two hits had gone off without a hitch. So, of course, it just figures that last one would have to be so much more complicated than it should have been.

“I—I—I w-want m-m-my d-da—daddy.”

Viktor’s jaw clenches as he exhales – slow and even, two thin streams of smoke – as he reloads the gun in hand and wills himself to remain calm. His patience is wearing thin at this point, though. He had not planned for going into this as usual and coming out as a babysitter. The target’s five-year-old daughter was not supposed to be in the house at the time of the hit. She only stayed with him on the weekends. What an absolutely brilliant turn of events that this was apparently the first Monday that she had ever spent with her father.

Dropping his half-smoked cigarette on the floor, he shoves himself up to his feet. He had lost contact with Miguel some time earlier, likely as a result of the scientist’s neighbor backing into an electric pole at full speed after one of the zombies had rushed her car. The impact had cut power to the entire neighborhood and he can only assume that it must be the cause of the interference. With long-range communication down, that leaves only one alternative: he needs to get within the functional range of their radios. Unfortunately, the hit had been planned for the late evening and he had only been able to make it as far as a vacant apartment building a couple blocks away before night had started to set. From here, short-wave does him about as much good as a water pistol.

“Come on.” Viktor has already reached the door and taken quick stock of the corridor beyond by the time he bothers to look back. Unsurprisingly, his unwanted charge remains unmoved, still curled up as small as she can possibly make herself, which is pretty damned small.

“A-are you g-g-gonna take me b-back to da-daddy?”

God give him strength but that stuttering is getting real old real quick. “Ne.” He swings the door open as quietly as possible and waits for a moment, listening for any movement outside, before carefully stepping out and making his way to the stairwell. With the knowledge that their escape route is currently free of hostiles, he takes a deep, centering breath and heads back to where he began.

“Look, holčička.” He crouches down in front of the child and tries to sound as reasonable as possible. Given his current level of frustration, he thinks that he is doing a fairly decent job. Miguel, however, would likely disagree. “Either you just come with me and go wherever I go, quietly and without complaint, or I leave you here. Your choice.” Yeah, Miguel would definitely disagree.

From the way that the little girl’s eyes go so much wider than he would have ever imagined possible, he feels safe in assuming that she disagrees as well and, five minutes later, they are creeping down an alleyway with more stealth than Viktor ever would have expected of a kindergartener.

---

What was taking so long?

That is the question that had led Alex out of the band’s bus and that was the question that he now wants to keep from crossing anyone else’s minds. This is all way too fucked up, like the should not be real kind of fucked up. None of this should be happening.

On the ground, backed up against the flat tire of the car that their driver had originally gone to help, Alex kicks hard into the jaw of what may have once been a perfectly lovely young woman and sends her sprawling backward where she lands on top of the monster still gnawing on the corpse of a man who should have still been living and breathing and driving their goddamn bus. Alex’s hand gropes around behind him for anything even remotely useful as a weapon and lands on the tire-iron just in time to smash it into the face of the dead woman once more lunging in his direction. Another strike as she tries to get up and he cringes and almost loses his lunch at the feeling of her skull cracking open and her brain splattering across the pavement. Hell, he really might have lost it if not for the howl coming at him far too fast. This time, he opts not to look as the hears the wet crunch and just leaps to his feet and starts running back toward relative safety.

“Alex?”

Oh fuck. “Stay on the bus, Val!”

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do, Niccols! What the fuck is going—”

Alex fails to hear the rest as he spins around to slam the tire-iron as hard as he can into something else behind him. This time it gets yanked right out of his hand as the body drops and he scrambles back onto the bus, practically picking up a protesting Val in order to get her out of the way of the door that he immediately slams closed. He lets her go as he collapses into the driver’s seat, wide-eyed and hands shaking, and it takes him a moment to register the sound of his dog whimpering by his knee, let alone that of his own name. When the world comes back into focus, though, Val is staring at him in horror. It takes him another moment to realize why.

“Alex? What the fuck happened?” Whether she sounds more panicked or angry, Alex is far too dazed to tell. Her hands reach for his face, his shoulders, moving down to check every inch. “Are you okay?”

Taking a deep breath, he raises a hand to wipe at his face. No. No he is not okay. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Val does not look like she believes him at all. “Is that—Fuck. That—That’s blood! Why the fuck are you covered in blood?”

Breathe, Alex. Always a good plan to breathe. “Shh. Don’t…” Never mind. Telling her to keep it quiet is pointless. Everybody else will have heard it already.

He shoves himself back to his feet, legs weak and wobbly, and stumbles as he makes his way through the curtain that separates the cabin from the rest of the bus. It is instantly evident that the rest of the band did, in fact, hear all of that. All three of them are already staring at him before he even properly steps into view. He is pretty sure that Sasha is the one choke out an “on shit” and it is definitely Macy whose response comes out as barely a squeak.

“Blood?” On his feet now, Macy rushes in to cling to Alex’s shirt, bodily fluids not withstanding. “None of it’s yours, right? You’re not hurt? You’re okay?”

Again, Alex reminds himself to breathe, turning just enough so that he can see where Val still stands in the doorway, Parker lying on the floor a foot or so behind her, his ears back and expression scared. For her part, Val is gripping the doorway so tightly that Alex can only assume that she is trying very hard not move and crowd him any further.

“None of it’s mine.” He looks at the faces around him, all of them staring, all confused and various degrees of frightened. It brings everything right back into focus. “We need to—” It takes a deep breath in and a slow breath out to get his thoughts back in line. “Everybody grab a bag, pack food, necessities, just—just whatever.” Stepping a little closer to Val, just near enough to pull one of her hands down from the wall and give it a quick squeeze. “We gotta get outta here.”

---

Nate leans out of the passenger side window just far enough to level his sights on one of the creatures that already looks less human and fires. One shot, between the eyes, and it hits the ground and disappears beneath the feet of its companions. He hears a quiet gagging sound come from the driver’s seat and finds himself feeling a bit queasy in turn. They are both going to need to make some real changes to their perspective re: what constitutes a monster and they need to make those changes really quickly because as of right now, it is going to be really difficult to get out of this mess without completely rewiring their conscience.

“Um, Nate?”

With barely a glance spared toward Dennis, Nate focuses himself on reloading. “Yeah?”

“How many, uh—how many of them are back there?”

The question gives him pause but Nate squints to get a count anyway. “About a dozen in view. Why?”

“Because we need to, uh—we have to stop for a minute.”

Nate drops back into his seat so quickly that he nearly smacks his head off the door. “We what?”

Not even bothering to look at him, Dennis simply peels one shaking hand off of the steering wheel to point at something ahead. “We have to stop.”

Nate has to squint but he starts moving the moment that he sees exactly what Dennis is looking at. “I’ve got the door.”

It was rather obvious even from a single glance at a decent distance that the man up ahead, standing stock still in his torn slacks and a blood, rolled shirt-sleeves, was staring straight past the car speeding toward him and cursing the sight of the ever-growing number of zombies trailing behind. Dennis hits the gas and is slamming the breaks in what feels like no time.

Nate shoves the back door open and feels like there is really no room for argument when he shouts to the man to get in but he has been wrong before and apparently he is right now. Instead of heading straight for them, the guy curses in a language that they are now close enough for Nate to tell is definitely not English and turns away.

“Hey!” Dennis spins in his seat to look behind them, which Nate is sure that he immediately regrets. “What the hell? What’s he doing?”

“I don’t know. He’s just—” And that is when the stranger pulls his gun, takes out three approaching zombies in relatively rapid succession, and finally turns to sprint back toward the car. “—getting a little girl.”

The child is practically flung into the back seat and their new passenger wastes no time slamming the door behind himself and snapping, “Go. Now.”

Dennis really does not need to be told and floors it the second he knows the door is closed.

“Take a left onto Carver,” the man continues, his tone speaking volumes regarding how unwilling he would be to hear any question or protest. “Follow signs for the mall plaza.” He leans out the window to pick off a few more of the monsters before Nate’s slightly incredulous look catches his attention and his scowl is honestly pretty terrifying. “You’ll be out of gas before the edge of town so, under the assumption that you wish to live—”

Nate’s eyes narrow in suspicion but Dennis has absolutely no qualms against following the orders of anyone with a plan right now and practically takes the aforementioned turn on two wheels when he nearly misses it.

---

“Are you sure you can hotwire this piece of shit?”

“It’s not a piece of shit, it’s a fucking classic.”

Val rolls her eyes at that as she continues trying to calm the utterly panicked Macy currently clinging to her so tightly that he might as well just climb into her goddamn skin. “Fine. Can you really hotwire this ‘fucking classic’?”

Two seconds later, the engine revs up as Alex sits back in the driver’s seat with a trin and a waggle of his stupid eyebrows. Sasha squeals in relief and flings her arms around him from her place in the back seat, as he laughs. “My mechanical genius is wasted on this red wire green wire bullshit.”

He pops the trunk just as something begins to stir inside of the nearby diner and Val shoves Sasha aside to squeeze Macy in so that she can help Nico load their bags at record speed. By the time she flings herself into the front passenger seat, there are already zombies starting to stumble out of the woodwork. Fuck seatbelts. “Gun it!”

Alex hits the gas and they peel out of the parking lot just as the diner’s doors give way.

He had tried to explain what had happened while they packed. It had felt impossible for Val to actually wrap her mind around it at first but once she had seen the mess outside? She had practically dragged Alex and Macy off in search of the nearest source of potential transportation. They needed to find something quickly and it needed to be something fast and she needed to not think about how painfully familiar the blood and gore looked, though she had only ever seen anything like it in her nightmares. When Alex had needed to stop and vomit into the nearest garbage can, she had a feeling that she understood why and a little pocket of rage flared to life in her chest – not because he had to stop but because he never should have been the one to wind up with someone else’s blood on his hands.

“Where are we going?” Macy is the one to finally ask, almost inaudible from where he has curled up against Sasha now, and Val catches his eye in the rearview mirror before she looks toward Alex.

Alex, however, is entirely too focused on driving to really think but so much and instead catches her eye before clearing his throat. “Nick?”

In the back, Nico turns away from the horrors outside of his window. “What?”

“How do you defend yourself against a zombie invasion?”

“Wha—Zombies aren’t exactly my specialty here.”

“No,” Alex agrees, “but zombies are supposed to be a helluva lot dumber than, say, Reavers, right? You know Reavers.”

“So?”

“So how would you defend yourself against an invasion of retarded Reavers?”

The drummer just stares at him for a moment with an expression that plainly says that he may consider that to be the dumbest question that he has ever heard. Eventually, thought, there is an answer. “I’d find the most well-stocked, easily-fortifiable location I could think of and hope I could wait out the attack or find some other way to get through them.”

There is silence in the car and then Alex shrugs. “All right. So, where’s the most well-stocked and easily-fortifiable location we can think of?

Five minutes later, they find themselves screeching into the parking lot of the local mall. The location almost seems somehow normal, given the situation at hand. In fact, were it not for the shrieking horde behind them or the knowledge that Alex is currently doing seventy into a public lot, it might almost feel a little reminiscent of home. Val almost finds it funny, really. What’s funnier to her than coming to a mall for safety, however, is the fact that they were obviously not the only ones with that idea, as they are definitely not the only ones pulling into the place with a bunch of undead goons straggling along behind them.

---

“Miguel.”

There is a burst of static in his ear as Viktor leans out to empty his 22 into the crowd of creatures still chasing behind the car that had picked him up on the highway. Once within range, he takes out a couple of the ones latching on to the other car that had pulled in to the lot at about the same time, too. When his magazine clicks empty, he makes a snap decision to save his 20 for later and drops back into the seat to reload. The driver glances at him in the rearview, looking a little bit frightened, while the original passenger only eyes him for a moment before leaning out of the other side with a freshly loaded shotgun. His fellow gunner might not be terribly trusting but at least Viktor can respect that. Besides, who needs trust? The guy’s a fairly good shot.

“Zatratím tě, Miguel!” The little girl still curled up beside him whimpers. He can hear it over the gunfire, the static, all of the goddamned zombies. It is grating on his very last nerve. “Odpovídáš mě!”

He could hope for no better response than to lean back out just in time to watch as a line of four hostiles drops one by one.

“En ingles, ’mano.” Another line of undead hit the ground as the line sputters out then clears up again, leaving room for easily the most welcome voice he has ever known. “Now where the Hell have you been?”

Viktor nearly laughs. “We can trade stories later, miláčku. Right now, I need cover fire while I try to get these people into the posraný mall.”

“Going shopping?”

“Sklapni. We try the mall or they come to your shop.”

“How many?”

Viktor glances toward the other vehicle still circling around the parking lot with them. “Eight plus me.”

“Well, if they dropped you—”

“Miguel.”

“Sí, sí, the mall sounds like a plan. There’s a garage off to your right. No good angle for me to shoot the lock off but I can keep the number of uglies down while you get in.”

“Děkuji.”

“That means thank you, sí?”

Viktor rolls his eyes. “Sí.”

The line bursts back into static with a laugh.

---

As it turns out, the garage door does not, in fact, require a shot to the lock. It rolls up just enough for the two cars to through before Dennis’s little hatchback even hits the ramp. On the other side, a young woman motions for them to hurry while two men in security uniforms stand to either side of the entrance to help keep the monsters at bay, though it appears that this Miguel guy really only needs the most basic of assistance. His precision is honestly kind of terrifying and Dennis is just as glad not to see any more examples of it as he swerves off to one side so that the other car has room. Nate and their scarier passenger are both out before he even has the damned thing in park, seeing to it that nothing gets in the way of girl at the door to slam the thing shut.

“We saw you on the security cameras,” of the security guards explains as he climbs up to try and jam the gears.

The other car’s driver takes a moment to collect himself, then grabs a wrench and makes his way over to the ladder. “Here. Let me have a look at that.”

“Figured we couldn’t just leave you out there.” The guard climbs down to let the driver up. “Then Shannon said she thought you were headed this way.”

“Thanks.” Dennis finally climbs out only to stretch over the top of his car.

The woman now known as Shannon simply smiles. “No problem. Mercy for your fellow man or something like that.” She laughs and shrugs, looking slightly flustered, though that is probably to be expected, all things considered. “Anyway, come on. Let’s get you all inside. We’ve got food, clothes, relatively comfortable furniture… We’ll get you poor things all cleaned up and sorted out in no time.”

There is a general rumble of agreement as the little group follows her to the door that leads into the connected store, allowing themselves to be ushered toward where another girl is waiting somewhat impatiently. That is, they all follow along aside from one man, anyway, who simply mutters something into his headset before switching it off and making his way back over to the hatchback. Shannon looks back, confused, as does Nate, though he looks more suspicious about it.

Dennis just sighs. “The little girl.” Then he ducks through the doorway and drags Nate away after the rest.

---

“Come on, holčička.” Viktor crouches down beside the open car door with a sigh as the child remains curled up in the center of the back seat. Children. How did anyone actually deal with children, let alone have them by choice?

The little girl simply whimpers and mumbles, “There are monsters out there.”

Well, at least the stuttering has stopped and he supposes he can concede that she has a fair point. “The monsters are outside, not with us.”

Before he can receive a response or think of anything more convincing to say, there is someone else coming up behind him, bending down to look the child in the eye with a painfully sympathetic and all too sugarcoated smile. He might be able to handle the sight of it at any other time but right now, with everything that he has just been through and the way that she has the gall to place one of her hands on his shoulder as if—God, he would really like to wipe that smile off of her face.

“Hi, there,” she says, voice floating in a way that speaks plainly of a familiarity with appeasing people under the age of seven. “I’m Shannon. What’s your name?”

Caught slightly off-guard, the child squeaks. “Um. I—I’m—” The little girl shoots a quick glance toward Viktor then, almost as if asking permission to speak with this new stranger before she finally answers. “I’m Amanda.”

Shannon’s smile becomes even brighter, even sweeter, if that is even possible, and Viktor has to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself from taking out her kneecaps when she leans even further over him, hand squeezing his shoulder. “Amanda? Well, that’s a pretty name! Are you hungry, Amanda?”

The little girl nods.

“Well, we’ve got all sorts of food inside. We’ve got toys, too, and games and books and all sorts of neat stuff.”

“And—and no monsters?”

Shannon laughs. “And no monsters.”

Still curled up in the seat, Amanda chews worriedly at her lip for a moment longer, eyes flashing back and forth between the two adults still there in the door. Shannon keeps smiling, encouraging. Viktor just stays crouched there with a clenched jaw and a headache starting to build behind his eyes. When the girl finally moves, though, it does not go entirely as expected. Rather than reaching for Shannon’s offered hand, she instead launches herself forward to wrap her little arms tight around Viktor’s neck and duck her head in under his chin, completely unaware of the rather undignified look of surprise that he is entirely unable to keep off of his face. Unhelpfully, all Shannon does in response is giggle.

#otto writes #original characters #zombies #violence #lol wut #writing: after infection

[amberfawzy]

Un-expecting the Expected | Para

Featuring: Miguel & Amber Hernandez (with Alexandre Reyes & Dr. Zoie Barlowe; mentions of Sofia & Demetri Hernandez) Location: Pure Space, Portland, OR & Providence St. Vincent Hospital, Portland, OR Time Frame: Friday March 26 & Saturday March 27, 2021 Notes: The evening takes an unexpected turn while at a launch party for Titan

Miguel:

Even though Miguel hadn't wanted to admit it, the Spectre launch party felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. After all the work that he had done, in addition to all of the drama that had come with the lead up to the launch, it was glad that it was finally out there in the world. In a way it let him feel like he had finally won - after Apple had cost him his first marriage and almost his fourth, after he had had things stolen, even with the lawsuit, it was the first time that he really felt like he had come out on top.

And it felt fantastic.

So he let himself enjoy the party, feeling like he had accomplished so much more than just launching a new product, and with it came a joy that was rare to see in Miguel. He had worked on the speech for a week, insisting on writing it himself.  And taking to the stage, he let himself take a breath before smiling out at the crowd and starting.

Amber:

The launch party was a beautiful spectacle. Amber was enjoying their time out with Miguel and celebrating his and his company's hard work and successful premiere. It wasn't lost on them that all of this was nearly derailed a handful of months ago but they were forever grateful that the truth was uncovered and that Miguel had such a damn good legal team. In addition to their pride, they were happy to have a reason to get a little dressed up and go out with Miguel one more time before the twins were born.

After a bit of mingling about the room, conversing with some of their husband's colleagues and friends, Amber decided to sit down. Their back was aching and the Braxton Hicks had started up again. Amber took it as a cue to sit down. With a hand resting on their ballooned stomach, they picked up their water glass and took long sips, watching people gradually take their own seats as the emcee prepared to introduce Miguel. Amber smiled softly over to Andre as he sat at the same table, and then they drank some more water.

Unlike past times, however, the Braxton Hicks didn't seem to subside with the water consumption. Amber tried ignoring it so that they could listen to Miguel, but the contractions were intensifying. Brows furrowing, they took a slow, deep breath while keeping their eyes on their husband. That was, until they felt a warm gush spreading fast beneath their dress. They had read about pregnant women peeing on themselves but Amber felt fairly sure that this wasn't it. Panic quickly set in as their eyes went back to Miguel, unable to shake the alarmed expression from everywhere on their face, except for the smile stuck on their face.

Miguel:

It was hard to look out at the crowd, the lights were bright, and truthfully it took awhile for his eyes to adjust. So he focused on his speech, the tablet that he had it up on, and once he was used to the atmosphere, Amber.

They were in one of the few seats that Miguel could see, and at first he could only see their smile. And then the next time he looked, it seemed almost as if Amber was in pain. Though with the Braxton-Hicks and the fact that the twins could easily be kicking somewhere uncomfortable.  But the third time that Miguel looked at his wife, it was clear that something was wrong. They didn't tend to stay uncomfortable this long and the way that their eyes looked, it just made Miguel worry.

Which the fact that it was during his speech just made it all too real.

Miguel had to find a stopping point, which wasn't easy, and reluctantly went into an ending that seemed rushed, but still wrapped things up. At least the best that he could. And as the applause walked him off the stage, he immediately went over to Amber. "Are you alright?"

Amber:

Before Miguel's speech had swiftly concluded, the pain had steadily subsided but Amber was sure that this wasn't Braxton Hicks, and she was becoming more and more sure that she hadn't accidentally peed herself. With the panic pretty firmly set in and wheels trying to turn in her mind, she tried to think of the best plan of action while drawing the least amount of attention to herself; here and now was about Titan.

While everyone applauded Miguel for his speech, Amber's expression finally fell as she exhaled, cradling her large pregnant belly. She made herself take a few deep breaths and when Miguel approached and checked on her, her voice hiked up an octave from its usual tone while she gave a few small shakes of her head. She kept the volume of her voice relatively low, "Nope! Nope, mm-mm, no. Either I've peed myself or my water broke, and I'm pretty sure it's the latter. And I'm pretty sure I've been having contractions tonight. Like real deal, non-Braxton Hicks."

During Amber's response to Miguel, Andre made his way over from the other side of the table and caught the tail end of what Amber was saying. He picked up on what was going on and said, mostly to Miguel, "I can take you both to the hospital, or I can stay here and cover for you. Whatever you need."

Miguel:

It took Miguel a few seconds to comprehend what was happening - especially that the twins had decided that NOW was the best time to come. Mentally he ran through everything else that there was supposed to happen that night, assigning what could be done to various people on the staff. Did he like it? Not really, he had been looking forward to this night ever since things with Apple ended in his favor.

But at the same time, he was excited for the babies and finally getting to meet them that for once delegating wasn't as hard as it usually was for him.

"I can get people to cover for me, I can text them from the car. Plus Mari is here and she did enough with me when we were married that she'll make sure to keep everything going. But I think driving us would be the biggest help," Miguel nodded, squeezing Amber's hand.

Amber:

While Andre and Miguel figured out next steps, Amber was rushing through a moment of anxiousness. Were they ready for this? It didn't really matter, since the twins were already exercising their independence. Until now, in their mind, they still had another couple of days before the twins were to arrive, but now that it was just a bit sooner--and starting tonight of all nights--Amber had to speed up their preparedness.

With Miguel accepting Andre's offer to drive them to the hospital, Amber returned the squeeze to their hand and took another deep breath. They picked up their clutch and carefully raised to their feet, offering their husband a brief smile. "I guess these two wanted to see what all the fun tonight was about, huh?" Keeping their hand in Miguel's and staying at his side, they followed Andre through the venue with as convincing a look of calm as they could muster while they passed guests by.

When the cool outside air hit them however and Andre approached a valet attendant to get his car, Amber dropped the calm facade, shoulders drooping slightly while the pain of the contractions started to swell again, starting across their back and swiftly gripping across their front. Before the pain could become too unbearable, Amber said, "We don't have any of our stuff. Should we stop at home first?"

Miguel:

Miguel chuckled at Amber's words, though really he had to wonder if that had something to do with it. He knew that there were some things that had a tendency to set off labor, and Miguel wondered if excitement had anything to do with it. Though while he was curious, he figured that was something that he could look up after everything was over.

There were much more important things to think about.

As the contraction hit, Miguel squeezed Amber's hand, not really sure what they needed to get through it. Sofia had been induced, so everything there had a schedule, this was completely different and in the process Miguel found himself thinking probably a little too much. "I don't think so, we can have Sofia pick up our stuff later. Or Andre can pick it up after he drops us off at the hospital, he has a key."

Amber:

Hearing Miguel chuckle helped keep a light smile on Amber's face for a bit. They used thoughts about pleasant things like that--Miguel's laugh whenever he found something funny, Demetri's genuine excitement when he did well in school, the fun they and Sofia shared at their cooking class the other month--to try and help them through the growing return of labor pain while waiting for the valet.  Amber leaned a bit into Miguel, teeth pressed together as the contraction crescendoed. Their grip on Miguel's hand was tight and as they forced themself to exhale, a small groan escaped. "Hooooooooo...yeah, this is..." They couldn't think of a word to describe the feeling but about a minute after the contraction started, the pain was subsiding again, just in time as Andre's Range Rover was parked on the curb in front of them. Andre was quick to retrieve the keys and moved fast to set the car's navigation system for the hospital.

"It's a good thing I didn't drive the Corvette tonight," he commented lightheartedly, settling in the driver's seat and prepared to leave the moment Amber and Miguel were ready to go. Thankfully it looked like it wouldn't be a very long ride for the expecting couple. "Et oui, I can call Sofia and work out a plan to get your things to you as soon as possible."

Amber nodded while getting in the car, thankful to be sitting down again after getting the seat belt around their belly, they rested their head on Miguel's shoulder for the duration of the ride to the hospital, giving his hand a more tender squeeze than before. After gently reminding him, "Don't forget to text Meredith," Amber soon added, "I'm excited that we'll get to meet the twins tonight or tomorrow, but I'm sorry about your speech, hon. I know this was already a big night for you."

Miguel:

Miguel tried not to wince with how hard that Amber was squeezing his hand, because no matter how hard this hurt whatever Amber was feeling was probably worse.

"Thanks, I would appreciate that. Sofia's still inside too, so she might figure out something's going on before you get ahold of her," Miguel warned, as he sat in the car next to Amber.

"Right, thank you," Miguel said, pulling out his phone as he sent a text to Meri as well as everyone else he figured that he should let know, "I'm excited to meet them too, and don't worry about it. I'm glad that we're going to meet the twins too. So it's still going to be a big night."

Amber:

Andre nodded, peeling away from the curb and heading straight for the hospital. “We will handle it. You two focus on your little ones."

During the ride, Amber focused on breathing as steadily as possible. Only one other contraction hit during the trip to the hospital but this time, they tried not to squeeze the life out of Miguel's hand, opting instead to ball their fingers into a tight fist, nails digging firmly into their palms.

Just as Andre pulled up to the entrance, the pain faded again. Amber thanked Andre repeatedly for his help and then scooted out of the back seat with Miguel so they could get checked in at the Labor and Delivery ward.

Some time later, the two were brought to a delivery room where Amber was given a gown to change into; they were hooked up to an IV and monitors while Miguel was given paperwork to fill out. They were checked on for their progress and then given some privacy before the next round of being checked in on. Now laying in a mostly reclined hospital bed with ambient music playing low in the room, Amber spoke to their husband in between the pain and spikes in discomfort. "Can you do me a favor? If any of the nurses tries to ask me something during a contraction like nurse whatsherface kept doing, can you tell them to kindly put a sock in it until I can actually answer them?"

Miguel:

Getting to the hospital had been a big help for Miguel. He had calmed down on the car ride, and everything else once they got to the hospital had been things he had prepared for.

So his primary focus was Amber and making sure that they had everything they needed to be comfortable. He chuckled at their words, especially when he had noticed the nurse doing that. "Gladly, I'm not quite sure how she didn't notice what she was doing," he commented, "Do you need anything else? Water? Ice chips? Pudding that I am considering stealing?"

Amber:

Although Amber knew that labor wasn't going to be easy, knowing and experiencing it were entirely different, as she was discovering. She was nearly dilated enough for the epidural but not quite when they arrived, and she'd hoped that it would progress for her to get it soon. About an hour after their arrival, Andre had returned with the bag she and Miguel packed for this very occasion, and after briefly checking in on the couple once more, he headed out with a promise to return if they needed anything else.

Deeply thankful that she wasn't going through this experience entirely alone, she nodded at Miguel's words and only briefly thought over his question before saying, "Ice chips sound nice. But steal the pudding too." Another contraction started soon after she answered him, and to avoid squeezing Miguel's hand, Amber made very focused efforts to clench her fists and spread her fingers back and forth through the pain. She tried to remember to breathe but found herself holding her breath often instead.

Miguel:

Miguel nodded as he helped Amber through the contraction - only for the nurse to come back in and start talking almost as if on cue. "Can you please stop talking for a moment," Miguel asked, using the voice that Sofia called his "CEO voice" that had the tendency to command attention. And as it expected it worked. "If you would pay attention, you'd be able to tell that Amber's in the middle of a contraction and they aren't really up for answering questions. So we would both appreciate it if you would wait until after it was over and they'd be more than happy to answer then."

It seemed to work, as Miguel turned back to his wife to coach Amber through the rest of the contraction. "Okay, I'm going to go get the ice and the pudding now while the nurse is in here," he said once things started to settle down.

Amber:

Though Amber had heard Miguel address the incoming nurse, Amber only partially heard his words as they worked through the contraction. Thankful though that the nurse heeded his words, Amber put their full focus back on breathing and repeatedly flexing their hands until the pain was more tolerable. They opened their eyes and left them open, looking to Miguel and nodding with gratitude in their gaze, "Okay," and gently squeezed his forearm before he departed from the room.

Not long after speaking with the nurse, the doctor came in and checked on Amber, delivering the news they had been waiting to hear ever since arriving; things had progressed enough for them to get the epidural. That process in itself was unpleasant but much to Amber's relief, once everything had been done and the anesthesia started to kick in, they were far more at ease for the long hours that followed.

As the night went on, Amber talked a bit to Miguel, imagining what features the twins might inherit. Eventually, they were overcome by sleep and managed to get a little more than a couple of hours of light rest collectively, on and off before night turned early morning. The doctor came to periodically check on them again after they were awake to see how far their labor progressed. Amber managed another nap of sorts, late in the morning but not long after they awoke again, their doctor returned once more.

A new wave of anxiousness washed over them, waking them right back up again however, when the doctor informed them and Miguel that, after roughly 14 hours of being in the hospital, Amber was fully dilated and  it was going to be time to start pushing soon. While the doctor spoke to the three nurses who had suddenly joined her in preparing for the delivery, Amber reached out for Miguel's hand, "Oh my god. This is it. This is.. it's about to happen," Amber said, their voice an uneven mix of excitement and obvious nervousness.

Miguel:

Miguel had always known that labor was a game of hurry up and wait. When Andre had come with their bags, he'd changed into a new set of clothes. And from there,  there wasn't much else to do. He supported Amber, he napped when they did, and overall he just tried to imagine what it was going to be like once the babies came.

It was true, he was a lot older than he was the first time around, but he had experience, and it really had come to realize how much he had wanted more kids than only Sofia. Sure, life decided to make him wait for two decades before he got the chance to actually get there, but it was well worth the wait.

He squeezed Amber's hand as the doctor told them that it was almost time to push.  "It is. You're going to do great," he stated, giving Amber a quick kiss on the head, "Just breathe with me, and squeeze my hand, and it'll all be fine," he assured them.

Amber:

Amber softly smiled to Miguel and gave a brief squeeze to his hand when he'd lovingly assured her. Nodding, Amber affirmed, "Okay. I've got this. We've got this," and set her mind to what she knew she would have to do from here. It didn't take long after that for the nurses to position Amber's feet out of the stirrups while Dr. Barlowe began coaching Amber, instructing her to bear down and push during contractions while she, the doctor, counted. Holding onto Miguel's hand while her other hand gripped the hospital bed's side rail, Amber dropped her chin to her chest, squeezed her eyes shut and, upon command from the doctor, began to push.

She very quickly lost count of how many times she had pushed or how much time had passed since the delivery started. Despite the doctor's encouragement and reassurance that she was doing a good job, Amber felt the anxiousness and excitement transforming into exhaust and frustration. Still being numbed from the epidural, she could only rely on those around her to know what was going on. Tears pricked at her eyes and blurred her vision as she pushed through yet another contraction. This time, however, relief and steady praise soon fell over the room as a small weight was placed on Amber's stomach and chest. She opened her eyes and saw one of the nurses quickly rubbing the back and clearing the mouth and nostrils of a tiny, dark-haired newborn.

"One down, one to go, Amber, good job! Take a minute and then we'll get you're other little one out here with her sister," she heard Dr. Barlowe say as Amber's  head fell back against the pillow behind her. Tears streamed freely but she quickly wiped them away and brought her free hand to their firstborn twin's back at the same time that tiny chipmunk-like trills passed through the newborn's pink, plump lips. "Oh my God, hiii," Amber quietly cooed. She squeezed Miguel's hand and watched as the nurse wrapped the little girl in a blanket and carried her off to a nearby  bassinet while Dr. Barlowe asked Miguel if he wanted to cut the umbilical cord. "We're gonna get her sister out here soon. It should be a lot easier this time around, Amber." to which Amber gave a sigh of relief, "Thank goodness," and wearily smiled, ready to take hold of Miguel's hand again and bring their next child into the world with some renewed energy filling her.

As Dr. Barlowe had said, the second go around had been an easier, or at least, shorter labor than the first time. Some eight minutes after the first baby had been born, her sister joined the world. Instead of the quiet little trills, however, she exercised her lungs, seemingly to their full capacity once her mouth and nose were cleared of fluids. "Congratulations Amber and Miguel," Dr. Barlowe said to both parents before inviting Miguel to cut the second umbilical cord over at the bassinet while she helped Amber through the afterbirth and cleaning up from the delivery.

Miguel:

There was nothing like the birth of a child - Miguel had thought that when Sofia was born and he thought the same thing now.  There was something miraculous about it, seeing life get to come into the world at the start. And now he got to see it twice over with their daughters.

And as the first of the two came, a giant smile came to his face as Miguel looked over her features.  He teared up a bit, blinking to not let the tears fall as he squeezed Amber's hand back, before going to cut the girl's umbilical cord.  He used the moment to stroke the girl's face, and really look over her features.

"She's beautiful," Miguel smiled as he walked back over to Amber's side, preparing to meet the second twin.  It was like everything happened all over again, though the second girl wanted to make her presence known to the world in a way that the man could already tell that she was going to have a huge personality. "You're going to be a problem, I can already tell," Miguel whispered to the girl, with a teasing smile before cutting the second cord.  He then took a picture to send to Sofia and Demetri, letting them know that the twins were there.  "You did great," Miguel smiled at Amber, once the picture sent.

Amber:

Both girls were here. Amber was filled to the brim with a myriad of thoughts and emotions. As Dr. Barlowe and one of the nurses finished tending to the afterbirth and cleanup, Amber wiped their eyes and thanked everyone in the room who helped bring the twins into the world. Their eyes then moved back and forth between the two bassinets, briefly catching the tender moment between Miguel and their youngest; a soft smile came to Amber's face at the sight.

When Miguel came back to Amber's side, they reached and squeezed his forearm with tender pressure. "Thanks, hon," and then looked back over as both girls were now crying, though the second was still noticeably louder than her older sister. The nurses were getting their measurements and finishing their initial exam before the girls could be given to their parents for skin-to-skin bonding. In what felt like an eternity later, the room was being cleared of the nurses while Dr. Barlowe carried one twin over to Amber first, and then the youngest twin to Miguel.

"The girls look healthy and are at a healthy weight for twins. We'll give you guys some time in here to bond, and then a couple of the nurses will move you and the twins up to a recovery room where you'll stay until you're discharged. Those rooms are smaller but there's more amenities in them. One of the pediatricians will come there to check on the girls periodically, to make sure they are both ready to be discharged when the time comes. Congratulations again, both of you."

With one of the twin's tiny cheeks resting against a bare space beneath Amber's chin, they softly replied, "Thank you so much, Zoie. I really can't say that enough." They smiled while giving feather light strokes of their fingertips to the the newborn's back, and then, not long after the four were alone, Amber turned carefully their head in Miguel's direction, keeping their voice low for the girls' sake while smiling to their husband, "You know, we have to figure out who's who here."

Miguel:

Miguel nodded at the nurse as he held the youngest girl close. It was surreal as he touched her, and watched Amber with the other baby. They were here, and they were perfect, and it was exactly what Miguel had been hoping for. "You know we could name #1 Isobel and #2 Jessamine just to keep it in alphabetical order," he commented, rocking the crying girl, "It seems kind of like the logical way to go about it."

Amber:

Amber gave a playful roll of her eyes at her husband, still smiling through his answer. "Leave it to you to go the logical route with naming our kids." She softly chuckled and continued to gently stroke their eldest twin's back. After mulling over his answer, she said, "But it beats calling them Baby A and Baby B." Shifting the position of the baby in her arms, she was able to tilt her chin down a bit and then said, "So I guess that means I've got you in my arms, Isobel," and smiled right up through softly kissing the top of her dark-haired crown. "Happy birthday, Isobel," she whispered.

Miguel:

"Well, I've always been logical," Miguel chuckled, kissing the top of Jessamine's head, "Though I have to say I'm pretty sure it was little miss Jessamine who decided to interrupt my speech earlier. It seems like something that would be her idea."

Amber:

With a small hum, Amber noted, "You have a creative side too. I'd say that both come with the territory of being at the head of a successful tech company." They watched Miguel and Jessamine and grinned again, giggling a bit at Miguel's assertion, "Probably, given how much she wanted to be heard when she was born. Maybe she was hoping to give her daddy a few pointers." While keeping as much skin-to-skin with Isobel, Amber had their eyes on their husband and youngest, adding a, "Happy birthday, Jessamine," in before saying, "I can't believe they're here now. They're both just the tiniest babies I've ever seen."

About an hour after they were given some skin-to-skin time, the nurses came in, preparing to transport the family the floor above to recovery. Isobel and Jessamine were swaddled and placed back in their individual bassinets, each baby being wheeled out by a nurse while a third nurse maneuvered Amber's hospital bed behind the twins to an elevator.  The room they were taken to wasn't too far from the elevator, and after hooking Amber back to the monitors in the new room and making sure the family was settled and shown where to find everything in the room, in the nurses cleared out yet again to give the newly grown family some privacy for the time being.

#Unexpecting the Expected para #M Hernandez

[1989dreamer]

In Your Little Werewolf Oven

On AO3

Summary: Danny moves to New York City and ends up opening a bakery called Little Werewolf Oven and most of his clientele ends up being supernatural.

As his reputation grows, Danny finds himself overwhelmed, so he advertises a position and gets not one, but two blasts from the past in the form of Derek Hale and his boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski.

Things work out great for Danny because now, not only does he have more time to do the things he wants, but he also meets his future husband through Derek and Stiles.

Life couldn’t be greater, Danny thinks.

Note: Andrew Erickson would be played by Aldis Hodge if on screen.

Main relationship: Danny/Andrew

Background relationship: Derek/Stiles

                                                                                                                     ~ * ~

Danny makes his break with Beacon Hills when he chooses colleges. He graduates high school a semester early and then heads out.

No one even notices that he’s gone.

Well, no one except cousin Miguel who asks if he feels safe, if he thinks he needs help with the supernatural, and if he wants to keep in touch.

Yes, no, and not really.

Derek Hale is simultaneously the kindest and most fearsome person Danny knows. Mostly because there was a rumor floating around school before he left that Derek had killed both his uncle and a junior at the high school, Vernon Boyd, the third. Well, the uncle was still alive, but Boyd wasn’t, so Danny kindly turns down Derek’s offer of protection and then promptly fucks off to the other side of the country, hoping the distance will be enough.

And it is. For seven years. Long enough to get two bachelor’s in science, physiology and computer science, and to accidentally walk into a cooking class and end up in culinary school just so he can open his own bakery.

He is a bona fide business owner now.

He has no one working for him, so he is only open five hours a day and the rest of his time is spent baking.

It is, in a word, exhausting, but it is his work and it makes him happy.

Business is good for about three months, and then some big name celebrity comes through, orders some of his haupia—which he only made because it was easy and he could set it aside once it was done and not worry about it—and raves about it online.

After that, there is no peace.

Danny can’t get anything done aside from baking and making haupia, and he becomes despondent, trudging from one minute to the next, not even enough time or energy to swipe right on his dating app.

Yes. While Danny was in college, he had also taken time to create a new dating app for LGBTQ+ people. He has gone on a few dates using the app, and the experience is far superior to Grindr or just meeting someone at a bar. But now he doesn’t even have time for that.

He is horny and tired and he really needs help.

Well. Online applications are a thing. So, all he has to do is find three minutes to post something. He finds the time the next morning during breakfast, so he types up a job requirement and application and posts it.

By that afternoon, he has sixty-some applicants.

Okay. So it will take more than three minutes this time.

Great.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Three weeks later, Danny still hasn’t sifted through all the applications. He is desperate, yes, but also too busy. It would be nice if he can just point at someone and assign them to work with him.

He has, however, managed to make an update to his app, and has received favorable feedback. So, while he is still unable to take a moment to breathe, at least he has money to hire someone to go through the applications for the bakery.

It’s a selkie named Ryliegh, visiting her cousin who lives in the apartment across the hall from him, and she is fantastic at everything except baking.

Danny feels a little more at ease with her watching his back. His store, while crowded with humans of every shape, size, and color, is also filled to the brim with supernatural beings who like to take pictures with the bakery’s sign, get something to go, and then hang out on the minimal furniture Danny had grudgingly added a few months back to compete with the Starbucks two blocks away from him.

Why he is a supernatural draw, Danny doesn’t know. Could be the sign.

There are very few things Danny has kept from his life in Beacon Hills, but a stage-whispered conversation between Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall made the list, and his bakery is named Little Werewolf Oven.

Anyway. Danny views the supernatural as closeted. They don’t want the world to know they exist because the world would respond negatively. Hell, the first week he’d been open, a hunter had stopped by to ask him about the sign, and Danny had pretended to be obsessed with Jacob from Twilight—not that Taylor Lautner isn’t a hotty-mchotty who Danny had actually crushed on for a quick minute.

After the hunter left, it had taken everything in him to 1) not call Derek Hale to come make sure he was okay (not having Derek’s number helped) and 2) to remain open. What if the hunters came into his bakery all the time? They seemed set in their ways, and he knew it wouldn’t just be the supernatural population that was in danger. He himself might be targeted for “being different.”

Anyway. That hunter hasn’t come back nor has he told his friends about Danny, and so the supernatural and LGBTQ+ populations have claimed him.

And then Danny made haupia and never has peace anyway.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Ryleigh corners him a month after he hired her and slaps a stack of papers into his chest.

“What’s this?” he asks, amused if a little sad that they had reverted to this non-technological way of doing things. It’s so much easier to look at his phone than to read physical texts.

“Reviews,” Ryleigh says. “And an application. I suggest you hire him. He’s perfect.”

“Reviews of what?” Danny flips through the stack quickly. Ah, the bakery. It is now officially on some site that directs tourists around. Great. He is going to be swamped.

Then suddenly, in the middle of the stack is a job application, generic, hand-filled. Pretty script. Neat words. Derek Hale.

Danny drops the papers.

“What?” Ryleigh demands. “What’s wrong?”

“I know this guy.” Danny picks up Derek’s resume. On paper, Derek does sound perfect. And he even has work experience in a bakery. Who knew?

“Is he bad?” Ryleigh asks.

“Not exactly,” Danny replies, still studying Derek’s skills. “In fact, why don’t you give him a call, see if he can make it in for a test run soon.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Ryleigh wanders away, phone already on her ear. Danny picks up the rest of the reviews and sticks them in his office for when he, maybe, will have time to read them. Some of them look so sweet.

For now, though, someone’s gotta make more haupia because someone announced, on their social media no less, with about 10,000 followers, that tomorrow is the official day of the week that they will have it.

Well. At least it’s just one day a week. Danny can deal with one day.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Derek Hale returns Ryleigh’s call by the following afternoon, and she patches in Danny so they can talk.

“How soon can you start?” Danny asks, prepared for anything from a week to a month.

“Is tomorrow too soon?” Derek asks instead, and Danny can’t believe his good fortune.

“Sure, yeah,” he says, and then realizes he sounds desperate. Well he is, so fuck it. “Okay, Derek, you’re hired. Just bring in your social security card, driver’s license, and a bank account number with routing information so that I can direct deposit your paycheck.”

“Wonderful,” Derek deadpans. “See you tomorrow.”

Ryleigh gives him a thumbs up before she heads out for her night class. She’s taking computer science because she likes designing mobile games. Danny supports her wholeheartedly except he never downloads her apps. He doesn’t need the distraction. He still doesn’t have any time for dates, much less wasting time on his phone.

Derek will be such a relief. Too bad it isn’t tomorrow yet.

Whatever. Sleeves up. Maybe if he gets done before 9:00 pm, he can treat himself to that new Italian fine dining restaurant that opened around the corner from his apartment building.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Derek is already at the bakery by the time Danny rolls in at 6:00 am. The Italian was delicious last night, and Danny’s in a good mood which only gets better when he starts showing Derek the ropes. Derek is easy to train and easy-going. He has a bit of sharp wit that comes out when he’s not guarding it, and Danny feels honored that he gets to see it.

Derek’s smile is quick and easy. Danny doesn’t ever remember seeing it in Beacon Hills.

“So why’d you leave Beacon Hills?” he asks once he’s made up an employee file for Derek, noting that although it’s good, his license is fake. “And how old are you anyway?”

Derek rolls his shoulders. “Beacon Hills got too small,” he says, tightly. “The Argents no longer have jurisdiction over hunters there, so another hunting regime moved in. And I’m 28.”

“Yeah? Why does your I.D. say you’re thirty then?”

Derek refuses to make eye contact when he says, “Since my birth certificate was destroyed in the fire, Laura added two years to my age so that she could leave me on my own while she worked. I haven’t changed the I.D. yet because I don’t want to lose that part of her.”

“Understood,” Danny says. “Well, do you have a new I.D.? ‘Cause this one’s about to expire.”

Derek smiles, relief evident in his eyes. “Yeah. I’ll get that done in a couple of days when Stiles gets here.”

“Stiles is coming here too?” For some reason, Danny thought that if Derek left Beacon Hills, he’d leave everything behind. To bring Stiles is to bring the essence of Beacon Hills.

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of rude to leave your boyfriend behind.”

“Boyfriend?!” Danny can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him. Derek glares at him. “Sorry. I just. I didn’t ever think Stilinski would get a boyfriend. Or laid, for that matter.”

“Yeah, well, he’s excellent in bed.” Derek stiffly turns back to the breads, kneading just a little too hard to be human.

“Easy on that,” Danny warns him. “I don’t need to replace these counters.”

“I don’t need you to hassle my boyfriend,” Derek returns, but he does lighten his touch.

“So, Stiles is coming here. Cool. What’s he going to do?”

Derek shrugs. “Beats me. He got his degree in anthropology and zoology. He’s trying to prove that certain supernaturals evolved as a missing link between humans and some older species. It’s really fascinating, but he loves talking about it, so you’ll probably get a rundown on it if you see him.”

“That sounds cool actually,” Danny says. “Now. Have you ever heard of haupia?”

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Stiles does indeed arrive within a couple of days and Derek takes an hour to run to the DMV to update his license.

Then, when they get back, Stiles asks Danny if he still needs help.

Danny looks at the sea of people and then back at Derek and Stiles. “Yes,” he says, and Stiles hands him the same documents he’d asked Derek for.

“All right, you’re hired.”

Stiles grins, tying on an apron and jumping on the register. The line moves quickly, and suddenly the bakery is empty, for the first time in what feels like years.

“Cool,” Danny says. And then heads into his office to read the reviews from Ryleigh.

By the time he surfaces, the bakery is closed, Derek and Stiles have cleaned up, and Derek is prepping for tomorrow while Stiles sits on a stool and chats at him.

“Hey, thanks for coming out here,” Danny tells them. “It’s really awesome that you’re here.”

“Yeah, well,” Stiles says, “Beacon Hills kind of imploded on us. Did Derek tell you about the new hunter family that moved in? Right bastards, the lot of them.”

“He’s mad because they saw my eyes and decided that I needed to die.”

“Aren’t you mad about that too?”

Derek shrugs. “Yeah, I mean, that’s where I grew up. But Beacon Hills itself hasn’t been kind to me in a long time. I’ve got friends out here from before I followed my sister back. We’re actually going to meet one of them today.” Derek shares a look with Stiles. “Do you want to come with us?”

“You realize that I’m gay, right?” Danny says. He can’t help giving Derek a knowing look.

Derek snorts. “So is he. Do you want to come with us?”

Danny thinks of his lack of love life and lets it influence his answer. “Yes. I’d like to meet him.”

“Settled then,” Stiles says. “We’re meeting him at that deli on 23rd. His name is Andrew.”

“Are you going to tell me anything else about him?”

“He’s six feet tall, likes to dress well,” Stiles says. “He works as an analyst for a company close by. And he loves your baked goods.”

“So I have already met him?”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “And he thinks you’re cute. He hopes you think he’s cute too.” Then, Derek dusts off his hands, puts away everything, and washes up. “We have about an hour before we’re supposed to meet Andrew.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Danny says, waving them away. They leave, exchanging knowing smirks. Whatever. It’s cool.

It’s a stretch to think he’ll get laid today, but the potential of meeting someone makes Danny a little giddy. He needs a quick shower, a touch up of his cologne, and then maybe he’ll have some time to clean out his inbox.

Oh wow, he has time tonight! Who knew that having employees would make his life so much more manageable.

Anyway. He doesn’t want to be late to meet—or rather, re-meet—Andrew.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Derek and Stiles are standing outside on the sidewalk when Danny comes running up. He’d gotten wrapped up in his emails, unused to having even five minutes to do something like that instead of being too tired to function when he got off work.

“Andrew is already inside,” Derek says, pulling Danny close so he can run a hand over his back, something Danny used to watch him do with his pack before they were forcibly disbanded. Danny shivers under the touch. No lie, if Derek wasn’t with Stiles, Danny would be climbing him like a tree. As it is, he still has to will away a boner.

Derek smiles like he knows what just happened, and Danny shrugs him off.

Then, they walk into the deli. Derek leads the way, heading for a booth tucked near the back, a tall, suited man already sitting there, phone in one hand, the other resting on his head, fingers tangled in his curls. Danny stutters to a stop. He recognizes this man. He was one of the first people to visit the bakery. He’d made some mention of the name, something like, “Reminds of my best friend,” before winking and buying a dozen cookies.

Yeah, he was definitely cute.

“Andrew,” Derek is saying, “this is Danny. Mahealani. I think you’ve met before.”

Andrew looks up, taking in Danny standing there and nods. “Yeah. He’s an awesome baker.”

“And he’s gay,” Stiles remarks, sliding into the booth across from Andrew. Derek waves Danny to the table, and Danny sinks down next to Stiles. Andrew stands up and lets Derek sit so that he’s across from Stiles.

“Danny,” Andrew says, extending a hand, “Andrew Erickson.”

“Pleasure,” Danny says.

“Yes,” Andrew remarks, eyes sparkling. “It is.”

“Shall we order?” Stiles asks. “I’m starving.”

Danny doesn’t know if he’s hungry for food or for affection, but he knows either way, he’ll get what he needs tonight.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

The sort of date goes so well that Danny and Andrew walk back to Danny’s apartment together and then spend most of the night talking.

They don’t have sex, but it’s a near thing. Instead, Andrew spends the night on Danny’s couch and they exchange numbers and kisses.

Then, they both drag themselves to their respective jobs the next morning.

Stiles cracks a joke about the walk of shame, and Derek smacks him.

“Go well?” he says, as if he can’t tell. He’s a werewolf. He’d be able to smell if Danny had done anything.

“Yeah, it went really well. I think we could really work out.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Derek hauls Stiles into the kitchen.

Danny is thankful, but Derek and Stiles must have gotten in early because there in nothing for him to do.

Wow. This is going to give him so much time.

“Hey, you realize that you don’t have to do everything, right?” he calls out as he walks into the kitchen. Derek shoots him a blank look accompanied by a thumbs up. “Seriously, you can leave stuff for me to do.”

“Hey, werewolf here,” Stiles says. “He moves at two speeds: fast and faster.”

“Yeah well, you’re making me feel lazy here.”

“When’s the last time you had time to yourself?” Derek asks. When Danny doesn’t answer, Derek points at him. “Exactly.”

Danny looks to Stiles for help, but Stiles just shakes his head.

“Hey, you hired him,” he says. “Which reminds me: do you want me to do anything other than run register?”

Derek shakes his head, so Danny says, “Uh, no? That’s okay, Stiles. You did awesome yesterday. It’s probably going to be that busy again today.”

“That’s good, right?” Stiles asks. “I mean, it means that people like your business.”

“It also means that I can pay you.”

“And go on dates with Andrew,” Derek adds. “By the way, he really enjoyed last night. I think he’s definitely going to ask you out again.”

“Are you going to be okay with me dating your best friend?”

“Yeah. I mean, you and Andrew deserve to be happy. What kind of friend would I be if I got in the way of that? Maybe you’ll break each other’s hearts, but you won’t know unless you follow your path.”

“He’s gotten really Zen lately,” Stiles says. “Sometimes it’s really helpful.”

“Unless your name is Stiles and you don’t like to listen to your boyfriend.”

“I listened, honey. That’s why we’re in New York City.”

“Okay,” Danny interrupts before Derek can respond. “I’m going to go open now. Stiles, you wanna come with?”

“Yeah, sure. See ya, honey-baby-love-of-my-life.” Stiles throws an exaggerated kiss at Derek, who mimes catching it and tucking it into his pocket. It’s cute. Far cuter than Danny would have given either of them credit for seven years ago.

Maybe one day, he and Andrew can be like that.

It’s a goal. But first. Get through today. He needs to do an update for his app, reinforce some firewalls that keep out the bigots. If Derek and Stiles can handle the bakery, then he can get a head start on it. And meet with Ryleigh about financials.

It’s so nice to have employees.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Andrew calls him two days later, on a Sunday, and asks to see him again.

“Been thinking about you a lot.”

“Me too.”

“Can’t wait. Can we meet now?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Cool, let me in.”

“You’re here already?” Danny looks around his apartment, but it’s neat. He’s clean—showered after a run with Derek this afternoon. He even changed the sheets on his bed.

And he remembered to buy condoms when he was at the store earlier.

“Um, sure. Let me just.” Danny throws on a light jacket and jogs down to the street. Andrew grins at him when he pushes the door open for him. They walk back up to Danny’s apartment in silence.

“So, I know this is kind of out of the blue, but do you want to have sex with me?” Danny asks once they’re inside again. Andrew pauses mid-step, shooting a puzzled look at Danny.

“Sex, on the second date?” he asks.

Danny shrugs. “We’re both adults. As long as it’s consensual, why shouldn’t we?”

“Do you think we’re even compatible?” Andrew asks.

“If you’re asking, you’re already thinking about it. Now, I’m vers. How about you?”

“Vers too. I prefer to top with partners on the first time. Is that okay?”

Danny nods. “I was going to play later,” he admits. “So, I’m ready to go. I’ve got lube and condoms in the bedroom. Will you join me?”

Andrew nods, reaching out for Danny’s hand.

He’s reminded sharply of Derek grabbing Stiles’ kiss. “Are we going to be cutesy and couple-y?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Andrew says. “I mean, some partners like it, some don’t. I know I like pet names, but I’m not much for showing affection in public.”

Danny understands. As a gay black man, it has to be harder for Andrew to show his feelings or who he is without being attacked. “We won’t hold hands in public if it bothers you,” he says, “but I do like to call partners sweetheart and love. But not out in public.”

Danny isn’t under any illusions that Beacon Hills was an anomaly and that homophobia is still the norm in many places. He doesn’t like endangering either his partners or himself unnecessarily.

They sit on the bed, and Andrew studies Danny with kind eyes. “So, we’ll be cutesy and couple-y but only in private. Is it okay to walk with you, to stand near you?”

“To be caught looking at me, you mean?” Andrew nods. “Yeah, as long as it’s okay for me to do the same to you.”

“Definitely. So, this lube?”

Danny laughs, pushing at his chest. “Get undressed and I’ll give you a show.”

It certainly is a show when he gets down to it, and the sex is fun, messy, and only sort of good because they need to learn each other, but he doesn’t hate it, and he actually likes the way Andrew curls around him after they’ve cleaned up, and they sleep.

Danny wakes up in the middle of the night, sees Andrew still in his bed, and smiles before going back to sleep.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Derek obviously smells when their relationship changes, but he doesn’t make a big deal out of it, and he doesn’t let Stiles do it either.

In fact, they go on a lot of double dates, and Stiles tells horror stories of the first time he bottomed for Derek.

“Never again,” Stiles sing-songs. “Derek doesn’t mind, do you, honey-bunches?”

“I mind you discussing our sex life,” Derek retorts, “sugar-sweet-on-top.”

They jibe each other often and throughout the day. The customers love it. They also seem to love it when Andrew manages to come in for lunch and he and Danny usually hide in the office.

The bakery does so well with the extra help that Danny hires an additional four people and extends the hours. He also starts making more traditional Hawaiian goods, which go over just as well as the haupia.

Then, suddenly, he looks up to find that he’s been dating Andrew for a year and he knows that he absolutely wants to marry this man. Andrew has already moved in, and his suits don’t look out of place in Danny’s closet.

Everything fits.

There’s some small fights. And once Andrew spent the night at Stiles and Derek’s apartment while they cooled off and reconciled.

But, still, 365 days. Danny definitely knows he wants to plan a proposal, plan a wedding, and spend the rest of his life with the beautiful creature that sleeps in his bed.

To celebrate their anniversary, Danny enlists Derek and Stiles’ help.

Derek whips up more than baked goods, and Danny is thoroughly impressed by the spread he prepares. Everything is on the table, literally. Way too much food for just two people.

Derek sees him eyeing the table. “You know how you’re thinking about implementing a donation of unused foods to the homeless shelters nearby? Yeah, this is the test run.”

“That’s wonderful,” Danny says. “Thanks, Derek.”

“Hey, I helped,” Stiles says, jabbing himself in the chest. “I made some of the dishes.”

Derek nods. “He did. They’re good too. Traditional Polish dishes, like pierogi, pączki, żurek, and naleśniki.”

“Andrew’s had them before,” Stiles points out. “I’ve never cooked for you, so I don’t know if you like them.”

“I’m sure I will.” Danny gives them both grateful hugs. “Thanks so much for doing this for me.”

“It’s not a problem,” Derek says, grabbing Stiles and tugging him along as he heads for the door. “Let us know how it goes, yeah?”

He nods and then they’re gone.

Danny swallows hard when he’s all alone. He’s suddenly nervous even though he and Andrew have been together for a year now.

An anniversary dinner is nice, but is it what Andrew wants? Should Danny have purchased a ring? Should he be proposing tonight?

Before he can do much more than worry that he’s not doing this correctly, Andrew steps into the room.

He takes in the table and whistles lowly. “They really know how to cook, eh?” he remarks. “They really support us, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Danny agrees. He hugs Andrew and then pulls out his chair for him. “I haven’t tried Stiles’ cooking, but Derek says it’s good.”

“It is,” Andrew confirms, “although, I can’t pronounce half of what he makes, so he makes fun of me. We can’t all be secret linguistics, like Derek.”

“I’m going to come right out and say this,” Danny says, “I don’t have a ring. I meant to get one, and then I lost track of time.”

“You’ve been really busy,” Andrew agrees. “So I guess it’s a good thing I did get a ring.” He pushes back from the table and drops to his knee, holding a ring box in front of him. “Daniel Mahealani, I love you. I don’t want to spend another day without you, so will you accept this token of my affection and marry me when the time is right?”

Danny slides out of his chair so that he can kneel with Andrew. He picks up the ring and slides it on his finger. “Andrew Erickson, I do accept your ring and give you my promise to marry you when the time is right.”

They stand and sit back at the table.

“Twelve months,” Andrew says. “One whole year. It’s been a great year. And I can’t wait for the rest of the years too.”

“Yeah. That’s.” Danny blows out a breath. “That’s what I want too. I can’t wait for tonight, tomorrow, next week, the rest of our lives.”

“But right now, we have to do something about this spread. Certainly we can’t eat it all.”

“No, the plan apparently was to donate what we don’t eat down at the shelter.”

“Oh,” Andrew says, his smile slow and steady. Danny’s stomach flips a little, anticipating the celebration already even though they have dinner, donating the leftovers, and heading back to the apartment before they can even entertain the notion of sex. “That sounds wonderful.” He studies Danny with a knowing look. “How about we pack something up for later, drop the rest off at the shelter, and head home?”

Danny has to go around the table to kiss him because there’s too much food to lean over the table. But, hey, that’s good. So much food that won’t go to waste.

“I’ll grab some containers. Why don’t you pick out the things you think I should try from Stiles and then we’ll take care of the rest?”

“Divide and conquer,” Andrew says. “That’s why I love you.”

“That and I swallow,” Danny shoots back over his shoulder with a wink.

Andrew lets out a startled laugh. “Just go before you kill me with your quips.”

“I live to please,” Danny returns. “Just you wait.”

It’s hard to wait the two hours it takes to box everything up and deliver it. But somehow, they both survive right until they get into the apartment and the door is locked. Then they crash together, locked at the lips as they put away the food they kept, trying to undress as they move like some awkward, two-bodied creature.

They fall into bed without any injuries, and then proceed to make love at the slowest pace they have ever done so. It’s nice, but Danny is glad that the second round sometime around midnight is faster and more their pace.

Danny falls asleep afterward, sated and beyond happy. He’s got a wedding to plan with his fiancé.

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

Stiles and Derek get married around Thanksgiving. Danny and Andrew both attend as best men.

It’s the first time in eight years that Danny has seen anyone from back in Beacon Hills, and he is surprised that it isn’t as awkward as he’d thought it would be. For one, Scott doesn’t come. Stiles makes some bullshit excuse, but Danny can see how hurt he is. And another thing, everyone has grown up and matured. Sure they all have a few more scars than he remembers, but for the most part they seem happy.

After, once the vows are exchanged, the grooms kiss, the toasts are done, the food is eaten, the bouquet lovingly handed to Danny by Derek, and the guests gone with the couple departed to their honeymoon, Danny sits with Andrew on their balcony, watching the moon rise over the rooftops.

“That was a beautiful ceremony,” he says. Andrew nods in agreement. “If you don’t mind, none of those people aside from Derek and Stiles will be at our wedding.”

“Obviously,” Andrew says. “Do you want something similar?”

“Small, intimate?” Andrew nods. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

“How about New Year’s? All we need are a few suits, witnesses, rings, and some of your haupia.”

Danny laughs. “I knew you were only marrying me for my prowess in cooking Hawaiian desserts.”

“Oh sure, yeah, that’s what attracted me to you in the first place.”

“Yeah? And what attracts you now?”

“Hmm,” Andrew pretends to think about the question, before sobering quickly. “Everything,” he answers honestly. “I love everything about you. I love the way you are so smart, the way you cook, I love how you treat your friends, and how you’re not afraid to let someone know when they’ve hurt you. I love the way your face lights up when you laugh, and most of all, I love the fact that you’ve let me share your life with you.”

“Aw, babe, you’re going to make me cry.” Danny rests his head on Andrew’s shoulder. “I love you too. I love the way you always know what to say in any situation and how you know to give me space when I’m mad. I love the way you always hang up your clothes. I love the way you hog the covers at night. But most of all, I love that I get to share your life with you.”

They share a few sweet kisses.

“Shit, we should have recorded those,” Andrew says suddenly. “They would have made the perfect vows.”

Danny laughs again, sure his face is a bright beacon in the cold November air. “Yeah. We should have. How about we go write them down instead?”

“That works too.” Andrew stands up, offers a hand to pull Danny up. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too. Now move, I’m freezing.”

                                                                                                                    ~ * ~

New Year’s day dawns bright and cold. The perfect day for a quick wedding.

Danny stands in front of the courthouse, Stiles to his right, fluttering about like a nervous moth. Ryleigh would have been here too, but she’s off visiting some of her others cousins, back in Ireland. She sent her love and congratulations in a confetti- and glitter-filled envelope that Danny had the foresight to open in his kitchen on the linoleum instead of his fully-carpeted living room. He’s still finding bits of glitter even after a deep clean.

“Why are you nervous?” Danny asks. “You weren’t this nervous when you and Derek got married.”

Stiles shrugs. “You realize this is the longest I’ve been apart from my husband since we first got together, minus the time he flew out here to get the job at your bakery. I’m just.” Stiles sighs. “Sometimes I think I’m going to turn around and he’ll be gone. Do you ever feel that way about Andrew?”

“No,” Danny shakes his head, “never. I trust him to come back to me, even when he leaves mad. Do you not trust Derek the same way?”

Stiles nods, but it’s clear he doesn’t.

“Why don’t you talk to your husband about it? I’m sure he’ll explain things better than I can.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Danny. You’re a great friend. Andrew is so lucky to be marrying you.”

“And I’m lucky to be marrying him,” Danny says. “Thanks to you and Derek for introducing us.”

“Oh hey, I think I see them.”

Indeed, it is Derek and his fiancé walking toward them. Andrew has the bouquet from Stiles and Derek’s wedding.

“Something old,” he murmurs as he comes astride of Danny.

Danny pokes his tie. “Something blue.”

“All right,” Stiles directs, “let’s get you inside and married before I lose any more feeling in my toes.”

Derek holds the door for them, and Danny swears he hears him hum “The Wedding March” under his breath.

Well, he and Andrew did pick out a playlist for the reception at the bakery after this, and they’ll dance to their song then, but it is nice to have some form of acknowledgment for what this day is.

Well, that is aside from the fact that this building is only open for the purpose of filing marriage certificates today and only for about two hours.

Six other couples have already been here. And now it’s Danny and Andrew’s turn.

“Got the rings?” he asks Stiles as they line up before the justice. Stiles nods, tossing one to Derek while Derek hands Stiles a folded piece of paper.

And then it’s off to the races. Vows exchanged, rings exchanged, kiss exchanged, paper signed, objections null and void, and it’s over.

Danny stands on the steps again, Andrew next to him, matching rings on matching fingers.

Derek and Stiles wave streamers of crepe paper in both his and Andrew’s favorite colors, clapping, and in the case of Stiles, whistling loudly.

As Danny surveys the mostly empty sidewalk in front of him, standing next to the love of his life, two good friends sharing this moment with them, he thinks life can’t get any better than this.

~ The End ~

#Teen Wolf Fanfiction #Danny Mahealani #OMC #OFC #Derek Hale #Stiles Stilinski #My Story/My Writing #Danny-centric

[pengychan]

[Coco] Nuestra Iglesia, Pt. 14

Title: Nuestra Iglesia Summary: Fake Priest AU. In the midst of the Mexican Revolution, Santa Cecilia is still a relatively safe place; all a young orphan named Miguel has to worry about is how to get novices Héctor and Imelda to switch their religious vows for wedding vows before it’s too late. He’s not having much success until he finds an unlikely ally in their new parish priest, who just arrived from out of town. Fine, so Padre Ernesto is a really odd priest. He’s probably not even a real priest, and the army-issued pistol he carries is more than slightly worrying. But he agrees that Héctor and Imelda would be wasted on religious life, and Miguel will take all the help he can get. It’s either the best idea he’s ever had, or the worst. Characters: Miguel Rivera, Ernesto de la Cruz, Héctor Rivera, Imelda Rivera, Chicharrón, Óscar and Felipe Rivera, OCs. Imector. Rating: T

[All chapters up are tagged as ‘fake priest au’ on my blog.]

A/N: Hey, remember when I said this story was going to be about 90% humor? Good times, man. Good times. Art by Senora_Luna. [There is some somewhat graphic violence described, and brief mention of past sexual situations with dubious consent at best. Just a heads-up.]

***

Padre Fernando Mendoza did not like Americans.

It was nothing personal - he’d met a few decent ones - but as a whole, he suspected his country and arguably most of the continent would have fared much better without them. Even so, the telegram that reached them that morning had been entirely unexpected. 

Americans attacked Veracruz. Battle ongoing. 

It was all everyone in the Archdiocese was talking about, and it had taken precedence over everything else, because of course the last thing Mexico needed at the moment was hostility from a foreign power and the attack could not be ignored. However, not everything could come to a standstill, and Padre Fernando was expected to deal with menial tasks. 

Which included replying to a letter that had just arrived from Sant Cecilia. And, ironically enough, it came from an American. That American. 

Fernando had groaned when he’d opened it to see the signature. He didn’t much like that gringo; truth be told, even among clergy few people appreciated the foreigner who kept telling them at every turn how they were doing things wrong, bemoaning the persistence of pagan fetishes in Mexico like they were not already aware of it, muchas gracias. 

But he had been sent in good faith, and he did uphold the Catholic Church’s official position - not realizing that the Vatican was, quite literally, an ocean apart - so they had to support him. He’d even had the blessing of their own Archbishop Eulogio Gillow y Zavalza, who’d had to flee Mexico and had found refuge in San Antonio first, then in Los Angeles.

“I am loath to offend traditional sensibilities,” he'd written. “It might turn people away from the Church rather than towards it. But I am concerned idolatry and too rampant religious disorder might weaken faith. This young man is eager to prove himself - it is fair to give him a chance.”

The letter didn’t add ‘if an American causes offense it won’t be on us’, but it may as well have. So far, it seemed that the one to truly take offense at… everything was the gringo himself. And it seemed that the sun and heat had gotten to his head, judging from the contents of the letter Padre Fernando was reading now. 

“... Lastly, I find the new parish priest to be, quite bluntly, severely lacking. I do not question his faith, but his methods are concerning - likely due to inexperience, as perhaps the seminary did not adequately prepare him for his first task as a man of God. I will gladly assist however I can, but I would suggest you consider sending a more experienced priest…”

Ay, he’d lost it, hadn’t he? Fernando had been present when news had come of Padre Edmundo’s death, and when his replacement had been chosen. He’d never met Padre Joaquín, but had only ever heard good things about him. What was the gringo going on about?

Normally, he might have handed the letter to someone above him for consideration; but right there and then, with everyone busy discussing the possible ramifications of a conflict with the very country their Archbishop was currently living in, he felt it would be a waste of their time. So Padre Fernando sighed, took pen and paper, and took it upon himself to write a response to that idiota, who thought he was smarter than anybody else but was so up his high horse he couldn’t even tell a parish priest from a novice.

With all due respect, we believe - as certainly you have by now realized - that you’re mistaken. Padre Joaquín is no novice, his seminary days far behind him. He was highly recommended for his strong leadership, a very important asset in such turbulent times, when faith is tested. Is there a possibility you met one of the novices instead? Language can be a barrier…

***

“Hola, Juan! How’s your back?”

“GAH!”

All right, maybe Ernesto should have knocked before throwing the door open and calling out, but to be fair he was rather nervous for what was most likely going to be a very awkward meeting. And to be honest, considering his track record when it came to making wise choices, this wasn’t even the worst. This time, he hadn’t even patted him on the back as-- wait, what had he just dropped?

“F-father Ern-- what-- what are you doing here?” 

Juan very nearly shrieked, getting Ernesto’s full attention before he could try to get a closer look at what looked like a handful of pieces of paper on the ground next to the bed. The wounds on his back were beginning to heal, most having scabbed over, but he was still on his stomach on the mattress, sheets up to his waist. At his sight, he seemed to be trying to shrink. Not a very successful attempt. 

Ernesto smiled the way you would at a man who has absolutely not been whipping himself raw in sheer horror at his own desire to fuck you, and held up the tray. “Lunch,” he said lightly.

“But why you!” Padre Juan choked out, only to catch himself when Ernesto raised an eyebrow. His face began turning red almost immediately. “I-I mean, I-- I mean no disrespect but usually… the sisters…

“They were busy, and asked me to do this on their behalf,” Ernesto said, and went to put the tray down on the nightstand. Juan quickly reached down to pick up whatever it was he’d been looking at when Ernesto had come in.

“Wait, I’ll pick that for yo--”

“No!” Juan almost screamed. “No, I-- I got it, I got it, no need--” He snatched everything up quickly, but not so quickly that Ernesto couldn’t see it was photographs… and get a glimpse at his own face, smiling at the camera. “This is just-- these are just-- bad photos, the ones I couldn’t mail out, I was… I was…”

Juan stammered, and Ernesto couldn’t help but feel some pity for him. “Trying to figure out how you can take better ones next time?”

Juan gave him a look of pure relief. “I-- yes, of course. Yes,” he said, shoving the photographs under the pillow. His face was almost purplish. “Practice makes perfect a-and… I can’t say I aim for perfection, only God is perfect, but--”

“But you wish to properly portray His wonders, I am sure?” Ernesto said, feeling just a little smug. That, however, went well over Juan’s head: he just nodded, and cleared his throat. 

“I… thank you for the meal.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, and smiled, sitting on the chair. Juan stared at him, then at the door, then at him again. Ernesto leaned back, still smiling. The hopeful look on Juan’s face faded, replaced by utter confusion and some desperation. 

“Aren’t you-- leaving?”

Ernesto raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“I-- it would be best for us both.”

“Oh?”

“As a matter of… of safety. Your safety,” he added quickly, and looked down. His voice was quieter, weaker; his shame evident, plus something else that was a lot like fear. 

Ernesto’s smile faded; it wasn’t much fun, all of a sudden. “I think I’m perfectly safe, Juan.”

“You are not. I am... grateful that you have told no one of my sins. But I fear you don’t quite grasp-- I desire you, and the devil is in me,” he choked out, blinking back tears. “I heard things in the seminary - I heard confessions in my journeys - such heinous crimes on unwilling victims. I am terrified of what it would make me do if I drop my guard for only one moment.”

Well, now it was... no fun at all. Ernesto almost pointed out that Juan couldn't overpower him if he tried with all his might, but he paused, knowing full well that was… not the real issue.

Don't think about the barracks, he told himself. Don't think about the barracks. Don't think-- ah, too late for that, wasn't it? He couldn't not think about the barracks, about what men who live and breathe war will do once the lights are off and they're so far away from everyone they care about. Anything for some relief, anything not to think for only a few minutes. A toss of the coin and maybe you were lucky - if not, you had to grin and bear and hope to be the lucky one next time.

Pray to be the lucky one next time because ah, it could hurt.

"... You wouldn't," Ernesto found himself saying; his voice sounded distant to his own ears. Juan seemed too lost on his anguish to notice.

"You are kind, but naive. You don't know that. The Devil--"

"Forget the devil, never met him. I know you. You would never."

Juan blinked, taken aback. Some tears fell down his cheeks; his lips were pulled in a tight line, but oh, there was just a hint of hope that maybe that odd priest might be right. Ernesto could see it for a moment before it was squashed and the gringo spoke again. “The things I’ve heard-”

“I have seen what you have only heard of,” Ernesto cut him off, without thinking. It wasn’t a smart thing to say, for a man who wished to leave his past unknown, but it only occurred to him after it left his lips and ah, it was late. He cleared his throat and straightened himself, staring back at Juan, whose eyes were suddenly wide, mouth slightly agape.

“I have met men like that, Juan,” he said. Somewhere in the back of his mind, there were screams of women. Men were not the only ones who had reason to fear soldiers when they came swarming, after all; officials turned a blind eye, and… and so did he. What else could he do? Confront them and risk being shot dead? He wanted to survive that war, and surviving is easier when you mind your own business.

Nevermind that now, in Santa Cecilia, he had ended up making everybody’s business his own. 

“You have?” Juan asked, his voice barely audible, like old paper.

"Sí.”

“When-- where…?”

The truth - the army - was not an option. “Seminary,” Ernesto said instead, causing Padre Juan to pale.

“Were you… were you hurt?”

“... That doesn’t matter,” he said, voice dry enough to discourage further questions. “I’m not naive as you believe. I have seen more than you think."

Juan swallowed. "Then you should know how… how dangerous those like me--" 

"None of them was like you. You would never," Ernesto cut him off, with the certainty of a man who's stating the tenets of the universe. Juan… stared, hope a little more plain on his face now. Ah, that was… sad. Just plain sad. 

"You... truly think what you're saying?"

"I do."

Juan blinked again, and more tears spilled out. This time he acknowledged them, and reached up to wipe his eyes. "Ah, I-- my apologies. I just… that is not… do I not disgust you?"

“... No.”

"I harbor an unholy desire for you."

"Well, that's rather flattering."

There was a choked-back noise that was almost, almost a laugh. Juan wiped his face again, smiling faintly, and he even managed to chide him. "Heh. Pride."

"None of us is free of sin, no?" Ernesto grinned a little. The faintest smile curled Juan's lips, but ah, it was so bitter.

"My father feared I would taint my younger brother, when he cast me out. I never would have, I couldn't even imagine, but… it haunted my dreams, the idea that I would turn into-- that-- if I failed to rid myself of this sickness."

“That was never going to happen.”

“... That’s what my mentor said. Father Joseph - he was kind, too kind, he called me son and I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t listen to him. I was so sure-- what my father said, and the letter...”

Ah, right. The letter - Sofía had mentioned that, but of course Ernesto had to pretend not knowing what he was talking about. “A letter?”

“Yes. I wrote to my family when I was about to take my vows - I told them I had converted, that I planned to remain celibate and dedicate my life to God. I hoped for their blessing. But my father wrote back to tell me to never contact them again. And so I didn’t. They told my siblings I was dead.” A pause, then a sigh. “Michael was so young, I don’t know if he even remembers me. I don’t even know if they’re all still alive. It’s been so long.”

Ernesto paused to think of his own parents, back in his hometown in the middle of assfuck nowhere. He hadn’t seen them since he’d been drafted; he had no idea how they were faring. Not a huge loss when it came to his father, but… he would have liked to have some news of his mother. “I see.”

“I hoped that if I could make a name for myself… become someone important, perhaps even a Bishop, then maybe they’d hear about me. Maybe they’d…”

“Want you back.”

A sniffle, and Juan simply nodded, shutting his eyes. “I told you and… and myself that I was here to do God’s work here in Mexico. I do hope I have done good, but what I really wanted was to leave a mark. So that I could become someone my family could be proud of again, and… and go home. I could go back, to visit - they could tell my siblings that I was disowned for converting to Catholicism, but that all was forgiven.”

“... I see.”

Juan stayed silent a moment, then finally looked up. He looked immensely sad, but the tears were gone. “That’s never going to happen, is it? No matter what I do, I can never go home.”

"Well… it's their loss.” Ernesto reached over to pat his bare shoulder, noticing all too well the small but sharp intake of breath at the touch. “We’ve got you now. You can stay here.”

“I… I truly can’t.”

“Why not? No offense, but I think you’re going to stay a maricón regardless of where you are.”

He half-expected fury at the statement, but no such thing happened. Juan just blushed furiously. 

“You know why I shouldn’t be in your presence, Father Ernest. This is still a-- a sin, something I need to cure. Or if Father Joseph was right, then… then it is a cross I must bear. But I should avoid all temptation. I will leave as soon as I can travel.”

Ah, damn, and there he’d hoped he could convince him to stay that easily. Holding back a sigh, Ernesto raised an eyebrow. “Am I that tempting?” he asked. Maybe he could, after all, use that to make him stay in Santa Cecilia. 

Padre Juan’s blush grew redder. “W-well, I-- I--”

“The suggestion to help is still up,” Ernesto pointed out, and Juan suddenly choked.

“F-father Ernest!” He stammered, eyes wide as saucers. “I could never-- you should never-- that suggestion was outlandish even when you thought it was Gustav I lusted after, but yourself-- surely you jest!”

“I am perfectly serious.”

“It is a sin, Father Ernest!”

“No worries, I got everything covered.”

“What?”

“Once the deed is done, I can absolve you and you can absolve me. Easy.”

“That’s… not how it works.”

“Oh, come on. That is exactly how it works.”

“W--well, regardless, I...I…”

Ernesto shrugged, leaning back against the seat. “It might turn out you despise it,” he said, knowing full well that was impossible as long as he was involved - no matter what Sofía said. “And in that case, the urge might be gone for good.”

Juan swallowed, barely daring to look up. “And if I, God help me-- if I enjoy it?”

“Then you’ll at least know something about yourself. And I’ll still absolve you,” Ernesto added quickly. Hell, maybe he’d pushed too far, maybe it was too early to bring up that suggestion again. He braced himself for refusal, trying to think up of more rebuttals… but Padre Juan just fell quiet, and lowered his gaze again. When he spoke again, it was in a whisper as he stared at the pillow.

“I… need time to think,” he managed. Ernesto - who counted the fact he had not ran off screaming a success - supposed it was the closest to a ‘yes’ he could get out of him at the moment, and mentally patted himself on the back. 

Not that he was that eager to do this, because Juan would probably turn out to be a pain in the ass in bed and for all the wrong reasons, but with some persuasion he could just be able to convince him to stay and not wander across Mexico, telling all the wrong people about one Padre Ernesto from Santa Cecilia. And by the wrong people, he meant specifically the Archdiocese.

And besides, he did sleep better with someone sharing his bed.

“Of course. No pressure.” Ernesto said lightly, and stood. “Might want to eat your stew before it goes cold-- er. Colder.”

“Ah. Of course.” John moved as though to sit up, but he paused, clearly uncomfortable. Ernesto took it as his cue to leave.

He suspected that was about as far as he could push it in one go.

***

“WE CAN’T WITHSTAND ANOTHER ASSAULT! WE’RE SPREAD TOO THIN!”

“Let’s get back in the Academy! We can barricade in!”

“Where the hell is Maass?”

“Fucked off to Tejería with his soldiers!”

“Not all of us!”

“Great, so there’s what, fifty of you left?” 

The cadet’s laugh, a mixture of horrible amusement and just plain horror, was barely audible through the sound of cannon fire, but still enough to make Santiago’s blood boil. He could have gone to Tejería with Maass and most of his comrades, away from the fight and keeping his own ass safe, but he’d chosen not to - how much was it was desire to help and how much a thirst for blood was hard to tell - and that was the thanks he got?

“Be thankful we stayed behind then, cabrón!” he snapped, grip on his rifle tightening. 

“Stop arguing-- Chago, for fuck’s sake, stop arguing and keep shooting!” Nando screamed somewhere on his left. On his right a man - a civilian who’d probably never used a gun before that day - was struck by something and fell back, blood splattering across the ruins of what had been a house until minutes ago. Everything around him was gunfire, screams, dust. 

“Pier Four is lost!” someone was screaming. “It’s crawling with gringos!”

“Fall back! Fall back! In the Academy! We can shoot them from above-- José! Come here!”

“I’ll stay here, I’ll use the machine gun! You go in! I’ll cut them down!”

Nando reloaded his rifle, lips pressed together in a thin line. “We stay outside, too?”

“We stay outside. Let’s move someplace high up, we’ll do better shooting from a distance. The muchacho with the machine gun has better chances here, ” Santiago confirmed, wiping the dust off his brow. Nando groaned, and followed him in a side street. 

“It’s not looking good.”

“We’re fucked. But we can take as many as we can down with us.”

A sigh. “I don’t know what else I expected from you,” Nando muttered, and gave a slightly unhinged laugh. “I’m almost out of ammunition, too. Guess I can use it this thing as a club.”

“And be shot dead before you can approach a single gringo?” Santiago reloaded his own rifle, and lifted it up. It was hard to see a thing; dust covered the sun, it covered them, it covered everything. “Once we’re out, we’ll fall back towards the deposits and see what we can find. Don’t waste bullets. Only shoot if you can see them clearly.”

And it worked, for a time: the few cadets left and civilians were a lot more helpful shooting while barricaded inside, especially with the enemy stupidly advancing in formation… to be met by heavy machine gun fire. The young man manning it - Commodore Azueta’s own son, Santiago would know later - was brave almost to the point of insanity, and kept firing and firing despite being hit several times… but he eventually collapsed, and had to be taken away. 

And then came the heavy artillery, again. It was aimed at the Naval Academy. It hit the building they were on first. With a deafening noise Santiago would never forget.

“Mierd--”

“Move move move move!”

Half the building collapsed immediately, in a sea of dust and debris, the roar of the cannons barely covering the screams. Santiago fell, hit something and rolled in the remains of a broken-down wall, and came to a rest on his stomach. He lifted his head, coughing up dust. His ears rang, his side hurt from hitting something hard, and he had to blink several times before he could see a thing. A few feet before his face, there was an arm. Only an arm, the rest of the man buried in rubble, but what Santiago’s eyes paused on - all he could see - was the watch.

He knew that watch, he’d watched Nando win it at a card game. 

“Nando?” He coughed again, and threw his rifle aside. Around him it was chaos, but he barely heard it. Gringos could be coming gun in hand, and he wouldn’t have known: he focused on digging through the debris, trying to pull out his friend - the only friend he had left, now.

Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead.

But of course he was dead. Santiago knew Nando was gone before he even saw the faraway look in his eyes and the caved-in skull, the blood coming out in rivulets from his head and nose and mouth to mix with the dust. He felt it in the heaviness of his limbs, the complete limpness as he pulled him out from beneath the debris and lifted him in his arms. 

He had done the same for Alberto when he’d found him, that day in the desert. But Beto had been stiff, and what blood he had left in his body had set; he barely bled at all anymore, lying face down in red sand. But Nando was still warm; he still bled, turning Santiago’s uniform red.

When he’d found Beto, Nando had been there. Telling him to let go of the body, helping him up, holding him up when Santiago’s knees threatened to give in. Now, there was nobody standing by him. Nobody to help him up. 

He had to get up on his own, and he did. He leaned Nando down, stood slowly, and walked away through the dust and the debris and the screaming, trapped men. Somewhere in the distance, there was an explosion he barely reacted to. His ears still rang, his gait uneven, his mind a blur. What snapped him out of it was the outline of a man running through the dust, towards him. Santiago raised his rifle without thought, as practiced countless times, and the man threw up his arms with a cry.

“Don’t shoot! I’m a civilian, I live here! Don’t shoot!” he cried out, almost sobbing. He stepped closer, hands raised; he was covered in dust, blood on his face his tears couldn’t manage to wash off. Not an inch of his skin was visible and his Spanish was perfect, but his accent gave him away - he was American, one of those who’d made themselves a life in Veracruz, who called it home. 

Do rats call the house they infest their home, too?

“Please, help me,” the man choked out, stepping closer still. “My-- the building was hit-- my family is trapped, please--”

Santiago pulled the trigger, and the man’s face exploded into a fine mist of blood, brain matter and bone. He fell back with a thud Santiago did not hear: he was already turning his back to the body, reloading the rifle, looking through the dust for more enemies to appear. Soldiers or not, it made no matter now. They were enemies. 

With Alberto’s death, he had one man to blame; one man he’d hunt down and kill someday, somehow. But for Nando, there was no individual to blame - so he blamed them all. Invaders, every one - who did they think they were? What right did they have to intrude in their war, to kill the only friend he had left as easily as you’d swat a fly?

He’s started out that war thinking he had something to defend. Now he had nothing left. 

Traitors and invaders. They have no mercy. They deserve no mercy. 

Santiago Hernández narrowed his eyes, lifted his rifle, and kept on fighting.

***

News of the occupation of Veracruz were no longer that new by the time they reached Santa Cecilia. With no telegraph line yet, they mostly relied on letters - and they travelled slowly - or occasional visitors for most news from the outside world. The visitor in question was a travelling leatherworker little cart from San Luz to offer his services and, most of all, the stunning news that American forces had attacked and occupied Veracruz.

The man, who was a mediocre leatherworker at best, had probably never received so much attention at once; within an hour of arriving, he was in the middle of the plaza, surrounded by people who had all but forgotten the market stalls around them… merchants included.

“Wait, what?”

“What do you mean, Americans? What do they have to do with… with anything?”

“So Veracruz is lost?”

“It is. They attacked on Tuesday. I heard that by Friday, all fighting had ceased. The gringos have occupied it."

“... What, the entire State?”

“No, idiota, only the harbor.”

“Haven’t they had enough of our land? Wasn’t taking the north enough for them?”

There was a lot of talking, a lot of speculation, and Miguel could barely understand a lot of it. Most of all, he couldn’t understand why Americans had suddenly decided to invade one of their harbors. But he wanted to know, so he’d done what seemed the most logical thing to do: ask the only American he knew. 

It occurred to him just a moment too late, after knocking and then stepping in, that he wasn’t supposed to see or know anything about the wounds on his back. Thankfully, he didn’t have to pretend to be seeing them for the first time: at the wounds must have mostly healed, because while he rested still on his stomach, reading the Bible, Padre Juan did have a blanket on him.

He smiled when he saw Miguel walking in. “Oh, Miguel. It’s nice to see you again.”

Miguel managed to smile back, like he didn’t know what his back looked like under that blanket, like he didn’t know he had done that to himself for some reason he couldn’t begin to imagine. “You look better,” he said.

“... I do feel remarkably better.” Padre Juan closed the Bible, and put it down on the nightstand. “Sister Sophie told me you asked about me. It was very thoughtful of you. I do appreciate it,” he said, and he sounded so sincere Miguel felt rather bad for him. It occurred to him that he was probably the loneliest man he’d ever met. “She didn’t quite keep me up to date with the latest in town, however. How are things going? How do you like Héctor’s Latin class--”

“Americans attacked Veracruz,” Miguel said, and Padre Juan fell silent, staring at him like he’d just spoken in a foreign language to him. Well, technically he was, but… like he’d just spoken in a foreign language he didn’t understand all that well. 

“The city with the harbor, Veracruz,” he repeated, hoping he could give him some insight to the actions of his country. “Americans took it. They attacked last Tuesday. Why did they do that?”

Padre Juan stared at him for a few more moments, seemingly stunned. Finally, he shook his head. “I am afraid I have no clue, Miguel,” he said slowly, and immediately sat up, blanket around him. “... I need to talk to Father Ernest,” he added. Miguel chose not to point out that they did, by the way, have a mayor.

Everyone he always turned to the priest first, anyway.

***

“This could be a good thing--”

“It’s never a good thing!”

“He’s right,” Ernesto spoke up, causing the other three to pause in their discussion and look at him. “Huerta counted a lot on that harbor to receive supplies. And now that route is gone.” 

“Are we supposed to believe they did it out of the goodness of their heart? To help?” Sofía asked, sounding all the world like she was asking him if he really believed El Sombrerón was real, or that size did not matter.

He shrugged. “Of course not. But however you look at it, this is a blow to Federales. Veracruz was of huge strategic importance. And the enemy of my enemy… you know.”

He had… a point, Imelda had to concede. Still, it all felt wrong. “Only because they’re accidentally useful for once, it doesn’t mean we have to appreciate another country occupying our land. And God knows if they even are going to leave once this is all over.”

“That makes two of us,” Ernesto conceded. “Dealing with one gringo is enough of a hassle. I’d sooner stick my hand in a wasp nest than deal with more, believe me.”

Sofía shrugged. “I doubt you’re the only ones to think that way. I expect any gringo currently in Mexico is going to have a much harder life from here on. Huerta won’t take it well. Nor us. Let’s be honest, no one is happy.”

“But there could be a silver lining to this, if it weakens Huerta,” Héctor said, and sighed. “I guess we can only hope that’s worth the trouble, at least.”

“We can hope, I guess. Hey, what about our resident gringo? What are the odds someone is going to take it out on him?”

Imelda, Héctor and Ernesto exchanged a glance. “... They wouldn’t,” Héctor finally said, sounding nowhere as certain as he wished to. “He’s a priest, after all. People respect priests.”

Ernesto raised an eyebrow, glancing towards Imelda and Sofía. “With how I’ve been treated, I beg to diff-- ow!”

“You don’t count,” Imelda informed him, digging her heel into Ernesto’s foot another moment for good measure before pulling back, ignoring his complaints. Within moments, he would be very grateful she hadn’t said anything more specific aloud. “Someone should tell him what his countrymen have done. Just so he knows it’s in his best interest not to be too annoying.”

“Duly noted,” a very familiar, rather dry voice rang out. All three of them turned to the door to see Juan, of course, wearing the cassock again although the collar was missing. His hair was still ruffled from the pillow. 

Sofía raised an eyebrow. “That’s not a promising start.”

“A promising start for what?”

“Being less annoying.”

An unimpressed look, and Padre Juan’s gaze turned Héctor and Ernesto. It was funny how he was still under the delusion it was them to take all decisions. It was annoying, but Imelda knew she had to pick her battles, and at the moment that wasn’t one she had time to pick. 

“I believe you should try command more respect in the sisters, Father Ernest,” he said. “I don’t think they show you the reverence a parish priest deserves.”

… Come to think of it, what she was going to pick was an empty bottle to smash over his head. Her hand moved towards it, only for Sofía to grasp her wrist. She glanced at her sideways. 

I hate him, she tried to communicate through her eyes alone.

Who doesn’t, Sofía somehow managed to respond without a single word. 

Across the table, Ernesto was clearing his throat. “Ah-- well-- emotions are running high. I don’t know if you heard the news, but--”

“I have,” Padre Juan replied, his voice quiet again. “I promise you, I… I knew nothing of it.”

“None of us is so stupid to think an obscure priest would be informed on the decisions of his country’s government,” Imelda said, her voice cold as frost. She expected a retort, but the gringo just seemed to flinch at the remark, eyes still on Ernesto - whose expression became unreadable for a few moments before he spoke. 

“What Ime-- Sister Gisela means is, we know you had nothing to do with this.”

“We’ll make sure that’s clear to everyone,” Héctor added quickly. Padre Juan gave a weak smile, but it did not reach his eyes. 

“I have no intention to cause trouble. I did plan on leaving once I was better, so--”

“Too dangerous,” Ernesto shut him down quickly, causing Imelda to raise an eyebrow. He was a good actor, she had to give him that; if she didn’t know he had less than selfless reasons to keep the gringo in Santa Cecilia for the foreseeable future, she might have even believed he was concerned for his safety. It made her feel… slightly less foolish for falling for his priestly act

She didn’t notice how Sofía, sitting at her right, was very obviously biting the inside of her cheek in an attempt at keeping her expression neutral. Neither did Padre Juan who, unaware of it all, tried to argue. “I am no stranger to the dangers of travel. If God wills it, I will be safe.”

Ah, if not for the fact he might end up exposing Ernesto, Imelda might have wholeheartedly and loudly agreed, encouraging to leave Santa Cecilia as soon as possible. She really, really hoped the idiota currently posing as their parish priest knew and appreciated how much of an effort it took her to keep quiet.

“This is out of God’s hands,” Ernesto muttered, unaware of her thoughts. To his credit, the gringo flinched but did not launch into a full lecture on why what he’d just said was sacrilegious. He listened, eyes wide, as Ernesto went on. “Things are going to get more complicated for Americans in Mexico. Huerta will be pissed because they took an important harbor from his grasp, so you’ll have to watch out for Federales. And everyone will just be pissed because… well, come on. You-- they invaded us. We like it better when the States don’t do that.”

Padre Juan hesitated, gaze shifting from Ernesto to Héctor, who smiled. “We’d love you to stay,” he said, purposely avoiding to look over at Imelda and Sofía, who had raised an eyebrow each in perfect synchronicity. “People know you here. You’ll be safe.”

“And besides, we didn’t go through all this trouble to bring you back from the brink to watch you head out and commit suicide,” Sofía added, a seraphic smile on her face. Imelda held back a smile. Ernesto gave her an exasperated look. 

“We might still need your help,” he spoke up quickly. “If this, uh, development makes it harder for resources to come from the States, we will need you to put in a good word for us.”

That seemed to hit a chord, and after a long moment Padre Juan gave a nod that was more of a bow of his head. “... I understand. Thank you. I will stay, if… if you want me to.”

As Imelda bit her tongue to hold back a retort, Ernesto smiled at him. When he spoke, his voice sounded startlingly sincere. “We do,” he said quietly. “I do.”

Juan was very quick to mumble his thanks and leave the room - giving Imelda no time to notice the sudden redness spreading on that pale, tired face.

***

Twenty-one dead. Twenty-two, if you counted the idiota who drowned while trying to get on land. 

Twenty-two dead American soldiers, and they still couldn’t put a number to the Mexicans who had died in the attack. Some said two hundred, some said three hundred; it was hard to tell if civilians were included in the count, because they had taken up arms, too. 

Soldiers probably accounted for at least half of the total. One-hundred and fifty at the very least. One-hundred and fifty like Nando, and the gringos had only lost twenty-two. And he had perhaps killed… one or two. Or maybe he had only wounded them, impossible to know. The only man he knew for sure had died was the civilian who’d had the galls to turn to him for help.

Not enough to avenge Nando. Not nearly enough, but oh had he tried.

They outgunned us. If not, we would have killed them one by one. Have they already counted Nando among the dead? Have they found him? Has he already been buried? He should be buried. He deserves it. I need to write to his family. If only I could tell them I have avenged him...

Resting on his back on a bed, his right leg ablaze with pain, Santiago shut his eyes not to see the cracked ceiling above. Somewhere on his left, a young man whined about not feeling his legs anymore. Somewhere on his right, a woman was talking. 

“... Commodore Azueta’s boy was so brave. The American admiral with that funny name wanted to visit, but he said, ‘if the American enters my house, I will either kill him or me’. Doctor Xicoy said-”

“Good answer,” Santiago rasped, staring at the ceiling. It caused the nurses fall silent, turning to him. He barely noticed them. “Shame he passed up the chance to actually do it.”

“Oh, you’re awake.” One of the women walked up to his bed, tall and somewhat imposing. She looked tired, but managed a smile. “We took the bullet out of your leg. Nothing broke. You’ll walk again and probably won’t even limp. Now we only need to keep your wound clean, and then we’ll send you home.”

Wait-- what? “Home? I can’t go home. I’m in the army.”

“You don’t have to. You fought bravely and were wounded. You earned an honorable discharge.”

No, no, no, no, no. “I have to rejoin my battalion. The 19th Infantry. I have--”

“They’ll have been moved somewhere else by the time you recover, and--”

“Then I’ll join another,” Santiago snapped, making an effort to sit up and causing her to recoil. “I am not done with this war.”

She stared at him a few moments, stunned, then slowly her expression turned bitter. “You mean this war is not done with you.”

“I don’t care how you put it. I’ll recover and return to duty. I’ll join another battalion - any battalion,” Santiago snapped, and turned towards the wall. He kept silent for the rest of the evening, gaze fixed on a corner where a few uniforms had been thrown, drenched with blood. His own was among them, probably, stained with Nando’s blood as well as his. 

There was barely any blood on Beto’s. The sand soaked up it all.

I never avenged him. I couldn’t avenge Nando. What am I still alive for?

Ah, but he could still do something, couldn’t he? He had one man only to blame for Beto’s death. One target only, and the last thing he knew was that he’d gone south, towards Oaxaca. So, once his leg had healed, he’d join any battalion heading there. He’d find him, make him pay. He’d see his blood run down his hands and all light go out of his eyes, he thought, and the idea was so soothing. 

When the nurse returned to check on him Santiago was asleep, a serene smile on his lips.

***

“So. How is the seduction plan going?”

“There is no seduction plan and I’d really appreciated if you stopped blabbing about it where anybody walking in would hear you. We only talked. I made an offer. Up to him whether to take it or not. He’s staying in Santa Cecilia, anyway, so--”

“He was turning red when you said you want him to stay here yesterday.”

“So what? We know it’s me he wants. Unsurprisingly.”

“... You thought it was Héctor.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“You thought it was Gustavo, too.”

“That was, er… last week. He turned out to have better taste than I anticipated, is all.”

“Well. I guess he could have made worse choices.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. But really--” A knock at the door of the sacristy, and Sofía fell into blessed, blessed silence. Ernesto breathed out a sigh of relief, and turned to the door. 

“Come in!” he called out. The door opened, and… well, speak of the gringo. 

“Father Ernest - Sister Sophie,” John Johnson said, his voice quiet, and stepped in. He was almost back to normal, if… quieter than ever before. “I was wondering if I could have a word with you, Father,” he added, eyes resting on just about… anything across the room except them. Which was a good thing, really, because Sofía did precisely nothing to hide the grin that spread across her face. Not until Ernesto elbowed her, anyway. She recoiled. 

“Oh! Of course! I was just leaving,” she exclaimed, sounding much too chipper, and walked past Padre Juan to the door. She turned on the doorway, with the expression of someone who is about to eavesdrop on every single word, and made a rather explicitly gesture from behind the gringo’s back. Ernesto held back from rolling his eyes.

“Close the door behind you. Gracias,” he droned instead. As the door shut - undoubtedly with her ear pressed on the other side - Ernesto turned back to Juan with a smile. “Can I help you?”

Padre Juan seemed to… well, shrink. He kept staring at the floor now, hands folded anxiously in front of himself, face quickly going from white to increasingly bright pink. “I have… thought about what you suggested. Long and hard. If you’re… still willing… if you’re certain…”

Ernesto bit the inside of his cheek not to make a ‘long and hard’ joke, laugh, or a combination of both. Through a supreme effort of will, he kept his expression neutral. He could easily imagine Sofía on the other side of the door, stuffing a fist in her mouth to keep quiet. “I am,” he said.

Padre Juan swallowed, his skin now red. Ernesto suspected it would feel burning hot to the touch. “I have… fought my urges for my entire life. I hadn’t felt a thing for a long time, I thought-- I thought I was rid of it. Until I came here and… and…” he swallowed again, and finally dared to peer up at his face. “Is it possible I will-- if I try-- hate it, and never long for it again?”

Well, now that would be a blow to his pride. Still, he wasn’t bothered. “... It is. You never know.”

“I might-- not hate it-- but then I’d know, I suppose--” he paused, and drew in a long breath. “You’d absolve me. And I’d absolve you. Right?”

“... Yes.” Not that Ernesto’s absolutions meant anything, but he didn’t need to know that. “I will.”

A sharp intake of breath, and Padre Juan gave him a quick nod before staring back at the ground, uncharacteristically silent. He hardly spoke to anyone for the rest of the evening. 

And when Ernesto came to his room that night, he let him in without a word.

***

In case you're wondering how the night goes, here you go. Mind the rating.

***

[Back to Part 13]

[On to Part 15]

#pixar coco #ernesto de la cruz #miguel rivera #hector rivera #imelda rivera #coco #fake priest au

[emms-jules]

Catch Fire - Chapter 2

Chapter 1: https://emms-jules.tumblr.com/post/618618103720509440/catch-fire-chapter-1

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24269344

If Emma was asked that question five years ago, she would have easily said numerous reasons.

"I want to be with Julian. I want to officially be his. I want to spend my travel year with him. I want to answer his calls. I want to reply to his messages. I want to say I’m sorry. I want to take care of the kids with him. I want us to damn our lives as long as we got to live it."

But this was a different time now. She may still want the same things, but the person she wants to be with might not want it anymore.

Chapter 2

A week later...

“Last chance to back out, Carstairs.” Mark said, as the portal of the Mexico Institute opened before them. He was holding the small duffel bag he brought in Mexico, as well as Cristina’s luggage. Cristina was holding on to Emma’s free hand.

The blonde girl rolled her eyes. “Screw you, Blackthorn.” She replied, as the image inside the portal turned into a familiar scenery. The distant sound of the waves and seagulls hit her with a feeling of homesickness and nervousness. Cristina must have felt her tense, and she tightened her hand around Emma’s for comfort.

Mark started toward the image, and with a last salute to Cristina’s mother, who was waving them goodbye, was sucked to the portal. Emma was starting to feel doubts about her decision. Maybe I should’ve listened to Mark. Maybe I’m better off here. Maybe-

“For Helen and Aline and their daughter. For Mark. For Ty. For Dru. For Tavvy.” Cristina said, a firm grip on her hand. Emma looked at her, and nodded understandingly. Julian was not the only family she left. There were others, and they were waiting for her after so long. With a single breath of courage, the two girls advanced to the portal, and vanished.

The first thing that hit her was the smell of salt, and as she landed on her feet, she felt the soft sand on her boots. Cristina landed a few feet away from her graciously as well, and looked around. The next thing she heard was a squeal, and a body throwing itself at her. Emma stumbled a bit and righted herself, realizing who hugged her.

“Drusilla!” She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around the girl. She grew taller, she thought, reaching me now. Dru pulled away from her, and this was when she really saw how Dru’s features changed through the years. She gasped, a bit of tears in her eyes.

She cupped Dru’s face affectionately. “You’re even more beautiful now, Dru.” She said, to which the girl replied with a teary smile and shook her head. “If only Livvy was here-”

“I don’t want us to wail here. Maybe another time, when not everyone can see us.” Dru cut off, gesturing to the doors of the Institute.

Emma followed her gaze and saw everyone waiting for her. Helen was holding her baby while Aline was waving, Ty was smiling whilst carrying a bag, Emma assumed he just arrived from the Scholomance, Tavvy was beaming, Mark was gesturing for the three girls to come, and Julian was leaning against the handrails of the Institute. Julian. 

Emma couldn’t help but do a double take upon realizing that he’s there, but quickly looked away afterwards. Seeing the others made her burst with excitement, but seeing him gave her a stronger feeling of uneasiness. Damn it, Carstairs, she thought. 

“Are you girls just gonna keep standing there or what?” Aline shouted, growing impatient but chuckling afterwards. Dru took her hand and Cristina’s, and pulled the two girls to a run towards the others. This sent the two girls laughing and when they reached the doors, was embraced by different pairs of arms. 

Ty got to Emma first. “We missed you here, Emma.” He said, ruffling her hair. Emma pulled away and glared at him while fixing it, but eventually laughed. “I missed you too, Ty.”

Next thing she knows, a baby was put in her arms. She held onto it in surprise. Helen kissed her cheek. “Emma, meet Olivia Eunice Blackthorn-Penhallow!” She introduced, to which the baby reacted with a wriggle. The small bundle had blonde hair like Helen’s and when she looked at Emma, had lavender eyes. Emma gasped.

“Pretty eyes.” She whispered, “And Olivia, close to Livvy.” She looked at Helen and Aline, who both nodded proudly. Emma kissed the child’s forehead, which earned her an excited squeal from the baby. She giggled as she put her back in the arms of Helen.

Next, a rapid-talking Tavvy dragged her to a hug. “Emma, I can’t wait to show you my moves with a dagger! Julian has been teaching me, but I think you’re better so I need you to teach me!” He exclaimed, showing her a few techniques, to which she laughed at. She decided to not recognize her reaction to Julian’s name being told.

“Now Tavvy, I don’t think that’s how you should thank me for saving your ass whenever Aline sees knife marks on the ceiling.” A voice said behind her back. Emma froze, before Julian appeared next to Tavvy, ruffling his hair. Tavvy swatted his hand away, and looked at Emma pleadingly, “Don’t tell Aline or Helen”, before scurrying off. Julian chuckled before turning to face her.

She wants to embrace him so tight and say sorry repeatedly until she deems it enough. Instead, she just looks at Julian, not knowing what to do. Julian also seems to be studying her, looking at her up and down, but nothing can be read from his face. I hate this, Emma thought. She used to know whatever Julian was feeling, with no need of a reaction. Now, she is just uncertain and uneasy. She still doesn’t know if he’s still angry with her, or if he ever was.

A set of firm but familiar arms wrapped around her. Emma gasped in surprise, hoping he did not hear it. Julian was hugging her, and after all this time, she felt a sigh of relief escape from him. 

“Welcome home, Emma.”

Without knowing, Emma wound her arms around him as well. He was taller, and his muscles were bigger than the last time she felt them in her own arms. Still, she smells the familiar scent of cloves, and she feels tears building up her lids. She never thought she would get to feel and smell those things again. Unfortunately, Julian pulled away shortly after.

She was about to ask him a question, but Julian took her bag from her hand. “I’ll get this to your room. You should go with the others in the dining room.” He said, already walking inside. 

She stared at him blankly, not understanding anything. Cristina approached her and took her hand. She looked at Julian’s retreating figure then turned to Emma.  “Mark also took our things upstairs. Let’s go eat.” 

Emma let Cristina pull her to the doors entering the Los Angeles Institute.

-----

The food prepared was not homemade, but actually take outs from Canter’s, their go-to diner in Los Angeles. Emma guessed that since four of them just came home, it was best to order something they missed. Emma greedily took a couple of waffles, some chicken wings, and a coke.

After a few minutes, Mark and Julian both emerged from upstairs. They both took a seat across from Christina and herself. She was happily munching on her waffles while Cristina was telling a story of how they encountered a couple of demons a few days ago. Tavvy was the most impressed, asking question after question. Emma thinks he can’t wait to be out in the field, which was cute. After that, Aline was asking the two girls if they could recommend any places to visit in Mexico, since she and Helen were planning to travel with baby Olly, that’s what they call her, for a month. 

“Mexico has outstanding beaches, such as Playa del Carmen or Cancún. But I figure with the proximity of the coast here in the Institute, I suggest you go to San Miguel de Allende.” Cristina replied, Emma nodding in agreement.

“It’s said to be the most beautiful town there, and I agree. Cobbled streets, the arts, authentic Mexican food, and the Spanish architecture, it’s a perfect place for a romantic getaway.” Emma explained, stuffing her mouth with chicken after.

Her answer earned a raised eyebrow from Helen. “You sound like you’ve been there a couple times.” She said slyly, and Aline’s eyes widened in realization. Emma, not noticing, shrugged casually and drank her coke.

“So, Emma tell me,” Aline started, leaning a bit toward the table. “How many boyfriends did you have there? Or just one? What’s his name?” She asked.

Emma choked on her drink. Mark’s hand stopped midair as he was about to bite  strawberry. Cristina immediately helped Emma, rubbing her back and offering her water. When Emma was able to collect herself, Dru spoke.

“Emma, you dated someone?! And you didn’t tell us? Who is he? Is he hot?!” Dru asked successively. The rest of the table was still eating, but all of them seemed intrigued and awaited for her answer. Except for Julian. He was quietly eating his pasta across from her.

Emma shrugged her shoulders and nodded. “I did go to a few dates.” 

Helen seemed unsatisfied with her answer. “That’s it? None of them seemed worth your time?” 

Instead of Emma, it was Cristina who answered. “There wasn’t really anyone remarkable there in Mexico. Also, there aren’t a lot of Shadowhunters our age there except for those who visited in their travel year.” 

“Huh.” Aline said, then shaking her head as if to change the topic. “Well, good for you, Emma. I mean, you’re hot, so it’s good to play the field a little more before settling down with someone in marriage.” She added in encouragement, which got a glare from Helen and a horrified look from Emma.

“What’s that supposed to mean? We got married around her age!” 

“Marriage?! What makes you think I’ll ever get married?!” 

Julian’s head rose and looked at her. Instinctively, Emma turned to him too, her horrified look softening. Julian quickly looked away. Aline, realizing how Helen took her statement, started explaining.

“I-I’m just saying that it’s a big deal, hon. Emma should be sure of who she wants to spend her life with, and if she needs to go to a thousand dates or turn 30 before settling, she should do it.” She explained, then affectionately puts her hand above Helen’s. 

“I’m lucky to have found you at such a young age. You know that.” Aline turned her head to Julian. “Look at what Julian’s doing. He’s playing the field well. And he should. He’s a handsome guy, and an artist at that. It’s time that he takes care of his own needs, you know? Good for you!”

Julian’s cheeks turned red. Helen’s eyes widened and put her face in her palm in embarrassment. Tavvy seems to be the only one oblivious to what the conversation is about, while the rest were uncomfortable in their seats. If all of them wanted to leave the dinner table, Emma wanted to be swallowed by the ground. So he’s been busy, she thought. She avoided looking anywhere near Julian.

“Honey, you know I love how outspoken and confident you are of everything you believe in, but there are some things better left unsaid. Especially at the dinner table.” 

-----

After dinner, everyone went to their own rooms. Emma threw herself down her old bed, embracing it. She recognized the laundry soap Julian used, and smelled it greedily. Once she deemed herself satisfied, she stood up and looked around the room. The room still seemed cared for after all these years. There were no dust stains or cobwebs, the sheets were new, and the clothes she decided were not worth bringing to Mexico that she left on the floor were neatly folded in her dresser. Apart from that, all items inside her room were left untouched. She wondered why they never cleared her room out.

“Dru insisted that you were gonna come back one day.” 

She looked at her open door and saw Julian leaning against it. He already changed into his sleeping clothes, which are composed of sweatshorts and a loose tank, exposing his biceps. Normally, she would stare at it, except seeing him right now made her remember the dinner conversation. She just decided to laugh lightly and continue rummaging through her things.

“Dru seemed overconfident, don’t you think?” She asked. 

She saw Julian shrug. “Well, you’re back now, right?” He indicated her and her luggage.

Emma turned to him and asked, “And what about you? Did you think I was ever coming back?” 

Julian’s face was unreadable as he stared at her for a moment. Finally, he answered. “After two years, I wasn’t really hoping anymore.”

His answer hit like a blow through Emma. A flash of the first two years in Mexico entered her mind. It was probably the worst two years of her life. She tried seeing any recollection of those events in Julian’s eyes, but still found none. It looked like his words didn’t affect him at all, despite its weight.

“Listen, Jul-” “But you know what happens to those who leave this Institute; they always do come back.” Julian cuts her off, shrugging. “First Mark, then Helen, then you and Cristina, I guess.”

Did he just avoid the elephant in the room? Emma thought. She wants nothing more than to clear the air between them, since their conversations always seem to have an uneasiness in it. But if Julian wants to prolong this, she’ll take it. She wasn’t even sure if she’s ready to know how much he hates her yet. Julian must have sensed that it was the end of their chat.

“I’ll be heading to my room now. Feel free to knock if you need something. You know where it is.” He said, slowly closing the door behind him. 

Emma breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t even know she was holding it. Since when did I become anxious in his presence? 

There was a knock on her door and footsteps leaving. She stood up from her position and opened the door, only to see an envelope lying on the ground. She took it to her room and opened it, seeing the old photos and items from her “Wall of Crazy”. Written on the envelope was a small note.

It’s good to have you back. 

-J

#tsc #tsc fic #tda #tda fic #jemma blackstairs #emma carstairs #julian blackthorn #shadowhunter chronicles #the shadowhunter chronicles #the dark artifices #lady midnight #lord of shadows #queen of air and darkness

[tessxomarie]

Saving You - Part Fifteen

*GIF Inspired by the fact Leah is a total BAMF in this scene, thank you Liz Gillies for my Leah inspiration.*

*TRIGGER WARNING: This scene discusses sexual assault, rape and self-harm, also some detailed scenes that relate to the how Mayans & SOA “handles” certain situations are portrayed. If you need to skip this part, please do so. Also, please remember if you need or want to talk, please message me as I am always here to listen!*

Coco soon departs, and Angel and I walk back into the bedroom.

“Leah, talk to me babe. I can’t tell what you’re thinking, and it’s scaring me. I know you want this to end, but I can’t let you go if you’re not in the right headspace.” Angel says to me with a nervous voice.

I take another breath, and I look at Angel in the eyes as he stands right next to me, cupping my face with one hand, running his other hand through my hair.

“It doesn’t feel real, Angel. This is all going to end, tonight. I’m going to be free of the pain, the fear, everything.” I admit as I look up into those warm and inviting eyes.

Angel then presses his forehead to mine, “Yes, you will babe. I promise, this is going to end once and for all.” He tells me and we just share a moment, both of Angel’s hands now cupping my face, our foreheads still pressed together, eyes closed.

I place my hands on top of Angel’s, and slowly breathe.

He is my calm.

He is my peace.

He is my safehaven.

Angel Reyes is a force I didn’t see coming, but I am so fucking grateful it did.

We both slowly withdrawal from our embrace.

I continue to gaze up at Angel, and he quirks a look at me, “Thank you, Angel.” I begin, and he gives me another confused look.

“Thank you for everything the last day and a half, I mean, I know I’ve already thanked you but I feel like I need to thank you for a lifetime – you’ve done so much to help me, I don’t know where to begin to express my gratitude.” I softly say looking up at him.

Angel’s mouth then forms a big cheesy smile, and he uses one hand to cup my face and bring me in one more time.

“Anything for you, My Leah.” He whispers softly as he presses his lips to my forehead.

Angel then pulls out his phone and checks the time, “If this is what you still want, we need to get going now, babe.”

I nod my head in agreement, I scatter to gather my bag and phone.

“I need to call Kendra, I need her there, Angel.” I inform, and I prepare for a battle but to my surprise, Angel simply nods his head in agreement.

“Just give me a few minutes, please?” I ask.

Angel grabs my keys and informs me he’ll pull my car around for me as I’ll be following him on his bike.

I dial up Kendra in hopes of her to answer.

“Lee?” She says breathlessly.

“Kenz, are you okay?” I ask with worry.

“Uh, yeah. It’s just, EZ just told me the news.” She says in shock.

“Yeah, they found Erik.” I confirm.

“Are you still going there?” She asks.

“I need to Kenz, I need this. I also need you, I need you with me.”

“I want to be there for you, Leah. You know I’ll be there.”

I take a deep breath, as I am relieved to hear Kendra will be by my side. But I’m also super nervous, because I need her to bring me something and I know she will freak out.

“Real quick Kenz, I need you to bring something for me.”

“Whatever you need, I gotchu.” She replies.

“I need a razor blade.” I spit.

Silence fills the phone.

“Kenz?” I ask, wondering if the call dropped.

“Aleeah, I will not contribute to self harm. This is not the answer, I –“ She starts going on before I have to cut her off.

“Kendra! I promise you, on Jax and Tara’s graves, I will not use the blade for self - harm. Please, I need you to bring me one. Please trust me.” I plead.

“I trust you, Lee. I do, I’m just nervous.” She admits.

“I’m nervous too, but we can do this, we need to do this.” I hang up with Kendra a few moments afterwards.

We were informed to meet at the clubhouse first, then we would be instructed on where to go.

Angel locks up the house and I follow him in my Jeep to the clubhouse.

The drive feels like it takes six months, the build up of tonight’s events are getting to me.

It feels like I’m in a dream, a dream where I’m unsure if the ending is going to be a happy or scary one.

Before I even realize it, I see Chucky opening up the gates for us to enter.

Everyone is already here, including Marcus and the Sons. As soon as I park my car, Kendra rushes over to me.

“Lee!” She shouts as she quickly walks to me and gives me a huge hug.

“I needed to hug you, I needed to know you’re okay and that you really meant that we can do this.” She says to me as she buries her face in my neck.

I’ve seen Kendra worried and scared a handful of times, two times were when I hurt myself, and another time is right now. She’s worried sick.

“Kenz, are you alright? First and foremost…” I trail off as I cup her face.

“I honestly never thought this would happen, but also, EZ filled me in on other details, you need to go talk to Marcus and Bishop, I’ll be fine. I’m here for you, Aleeah, always.” She assures me with a tight squeeze of my hand.

Angel guides me over to Marcus and Bishop, I see Chibs and Tig join our small crowd.

“Aleeah, we’re glad to see you.” Marcus says to me.

“It’s a once and a lifetime chance, I have to be here.” I say looking at all of the men.

They all nod in agreement, but I can sense tension.

“What’s going on? You all look extremely nervous, and no offense, that’s not helping me.” I interject.

“Leah, sweetheart, we had to involve some other help – in order to take care of Erik.” Bishop starts out, and I give Angel a concerned look.

“What do you mean, Bish?” Angel eagerly asks.

“We had to be smart with the way we dispose of the bastard.” Chibs replies with an eye roll.

“It was a tough decision for Chibs and I to agree on, given the history however, Alvarez and Bishop made a good case and most importantly, it’s a decision we all agree that Jax would have done the same thing.” Tig continues.

I give the men the same confused look, and Angel’s face relaxes a bit as I have a feeling he must know where this is leading however I remain in the dark.

“Miguel Galindo is going to help us out. He offered us his Pew, it’s a safe and private location. We dropped Erik off there first, and let his men babysit him for a few hours. Miguel was mortified when I told him of what had happened Aleeah. He wants to help you in any way he can right now.” Marcus explains, and although I should be terrified of hearing the Galindo name, I’m ultimately relieved.

I met Miguel along with Emily a few months back, just as I was getting settled in Santo Padre, Marcus had reached out and asked if I could help out a friend and their son with my nursing abilities.

Cristobal, Miguel and Emily’s son, he had come down with a slight fever and a cold. Emily was refusing to take him to a doctor, and their pediatrician was out of town and could not make a house call. For whatever reason, Marcus felt I was certified enough to help the Galindo’s out.

Emily and I got off to a great start, I was more nervous to formally meet Miguel.

All my worries were gone once I was checking out Cristobal, a happy baby even with a 101 fever. Turns out, he was simply teething, and some babies like to spike fevers when doing so.

Emily felt stupid, as Cristobal had run a minor fever a few months prior due to teething. But she explained to me a brief summary of what chaos the family has endured, and she did not want to take Cristobal out of the house.

My first meeting with Miguel went extremely well, he was just happy that his son was in good health and that his son felt safe in my care.

“Aleeah.” Miguel said as Marcus lead me to the front door, “Please, Leah will do.” I nervously correct him.

“Leah, thank you from the bottom of mine and Emily’s hearts for coming out here to check on our son. As my wife explained, it’s been chaotic with our family lately and we just don’t feel comfortable taking Cristobal out and about just yet.”

“Of course, Mr. Galindo. It’s been a pleasure and honestly, thank you for trusting me to care for your son. That above all means a lot to me.” I graciously say to Miguel, because I do mean it.

“If you ever need anything, Leah – any sort of help or advice even, please do not hesitate to reach out. Marcus speaks highly of you, and he’s a man I trust with my life. I value that very much, so because of that, you are now important to us.”

The Cartel now considers me important and they therefore trust me, woah.

The Galindo Cartel is something I was made aware of back when I was around Jax and Tara. Anything Cartel related freaked me out, because one does not simply fuck with the Cartel – no links to the Cartel are the best links.

Yet here I am, tossed into the MC world which has collided with the Cartel.

I understand why Chibs and Tig were weary on this deal, but I also understand why it had to be done. Miguel and his men are the best ones to properly clean up a mess of this size.

I snap out of my flashback daze and return my focus to the men standing before me.

“I just want this all to end, I want to have peace.” I announce. Angel then wraps his arm around me and brings me in close.

“Then let’s go take care of this sick bastard, aye?” Chibs chimes in, which causes me to let out a chuckle.

The men gather on their bikes, meanwhile EZ and Gilly drive Kendra and me, in the van. The drive to the warehouse where Galindo’s Pew is at goes by rather quickly. The drive was silent, but again, not an awkward silence. More of, we all know what’s coming and we just have to get shit done, kind of silence.

It isn’t until EZ puts the van is park when my stomach starts to do flips. Kendra senses my nerves and instantly reaches over and grabs my hand.

“We got this, Lee.” She strongly affirms, and I nod my head and look her in the eyes.

We do got this, this is going to fucking end.

The men help us out of the van, and Angel once again rushes to my side.

No words are spoken, just looks exchanged.

His eyes are still warm, but I can see his concern. I intertwine our hands and give them a squeeze.

I need him to believe that I’m alright, and I can handle this.

I am strong, I am brave and I am going to end this once and for all. I tell myself silently as I stare into Angel’s eyes.

“My Leah, so strong, so brave.” Angel whispers to me as he places another kiss on my forehead.

I chuckle to myself which catches him off guard, “What is it?” He questions.

“I literally just told myself the same thing in my head, a little pep talk if you will.” I tell him which leaves him laughing too.

The brief moment of laughter is cut short when I’m quickly reminded why I’m even at this warehouse.

“Aleeah, Galindo is ready for us.” Marcus announces.

I simply nod in his direction as Angel continues to hold my hand and we begin to walk towards the door.

“Ladies, we want to see the situation first before we bring you in.” Bishop informs Kendra and myself.

“But Bishop, you told me I could be here, that I could have my closure!” I begin to raise my voice.

“Shh, shh, Leah, sweetheart – you will, darlin’. We just want to make sure the asshole is where we left him, and that he’s still breathin’ or else Bloody Sunday is about to happen a little early.” Chibs says to me.

“You’re going to get your moment, Aleeah. I promise, mija. But the guys are right, we should check the situation out first, I don’t need you to witness any other trauma.” Marcus assures me before he, along with Bishop, Tig and Chibs enter the warehouse.

Angel takes a few steps back from me to chat with the other members, and that leaves Kendra there next to me.

“Breathe, Lee. You gotta breathe.” She tells me.

I take a few deep breaths.

“I want to slit his throat, Kenz. I want to hurt him so fucking bad.” I admit, and Kendra simply nods her head.

She then whispers, “Is that what the blade is for?”

I shake my head, “I don’t know yet. I’m just so fucking angry and pissed off and sad and just fifty shades of a hot mess.” I answer.

Kendra remains at my side, holding my non-bandage wrist.

“Remind him of the pain he caused, and do what you feel is right, Lee. I’ll be cheering you on.” She says with a small smile.

Before I can respond, we hear the door open and Chibs motions for us to enter.

The men enter first, Angel looks at me before he goes in, but I nod for him to go as he sees I have Kendra by my side.

Right as we are about to enter the warehouse, Chibs stops me and gives me a half hug and kisses my temple.

“I love you, darlin’.” He says with a tight squeeze.

I look back at him and tell him what I’ve been telling myself all day, “I got this.” I say with a smile.

Chibs smiles, and I can see a quick tear forming in his eyes. He nods his head and gives me a look, a look of comfort. “Yes, you do and I know Jackie Boy going to be here helping you out. Opie too.”

To hold back my emotions from hearing those names, I nod in agreement.

I know I have an entire support system, in the living world and in the after- life. I just pray that my number one hope and wish is granted, and that Erik will leave here dead.

Kendra and I follow the MC as Miguel greets everyone.

I hear groans and slight screams from behind where Miguel is standing, but I cannot make out who it is coming from.

“Leah.” Miguel greets.

He makes his way through the crowd to me, and he has a somber expression.

“Hola Miguel.” I say above a whisper.

“I don’t know what words to say to you, there’s nothing that can I can say to erase what has happened. I am truly sorry that you had to endure such a disgusting act.” He says to me as he meets me face to face through the crowd of bikers.

“Thank you, Miguel.” I say quietly. He nods his head in an understanding way.

“Erik Rodrigo has been looked after by my men and has been in the best care.” Miguel announces as we all slowly turn to see Erik sitting in the Pew.

My stomach starts to do flips, as I finally see Erik sitting on the bench.

He’s moving around, and it looks like he’s already been beaten up a bit.

“Leah, come with us.” Bishop whispers and motions for me to take a few more steps forward.

I’m now standing in front of the crowd, Kendra is still right behind me. I’m by Marcus, Miguel, Bishop, Chibs and Tig.

Angel is right behind me as well, I can’t see him but I can feel him.

This calming feeling, I can literally sense it and before I can confirm he’s right behind me, Angel moves towards me and kisses the top of my head.

“Mr. Rodrigo, for the record, is it true that you assaulted and raped Miss Parker not only last night, but on the night of February 18th, 2017?” Miguel asks Erik, and again my stomach does slips.

“Raped?” Erik scoffs while remaining restrained in the pew.

“I never fucking raped that bitch, she was begging for it all night long.” He states, and my blood begins to boil.

“You lying mother fucker!” Angel shouts, but before I can I hold him back and look at him, Angel has made a b-line to Erik and starts to punch him with great force.

“Oh, Angel are you jealous? That I got a taste of that sweet pussy before you did, she sure is a good fuck.” Erik continues, and that adds to Angels’ rage. EZ is able to grab Angel and restrain him, as I now begin to cry.

“Fuck you, you sick Bastard!” I shout as I take a few steps forward, “I told you, ‘no’” I shout as my voice begins to shake, “I fucking told you ‘no’”. I whimper.

Erik begins to laugh, “It’s a shame I didn’t listen, huh?” He retorts in a snarky fashion, and before I lose all of my emotions, Kendra scoops me up as EZ walks Angel back to me.

“Erik Rodrigo, I have no other words for you. You are a poor excuse of a human being. The only way to get any sort of resolution for your heinous crimes, well, I guess I’ll just your fellow bikers do the talking. But before that, I’m going to leave you with this.” Miguel states before he hauls off and punches Erik in the face.

Erik continues to laugh, it must be his defense mechanism because part of me truly believes he is scared – that this is not how he pictured his life turning out, yet we are here.

I wouldn’t wish this torture on anyone, but right now, it feels like this is the only fair way.

Kendra and Angel continue to hold my hand and rub my shoulder. My support system that I never knew I needed.

Marcus then walks up to Erik, and Erik’s facial expression changes.

“I patched you in, Erik. You had so much promise, I was excited for you. Then, I find out you hurt someone who I look at like a daughter, so basically you hurt my daughter and that will not go unanswered. You’re going to fucking die, ese. I’m here to make sure of it.” Marcus states as he is now face to face with Erik as he crouches down to Erik’s level.

All Erik does is spit in Marcus’ face, which then results in Marcus punching Erik in the face. Marcus begins to take a step away, but he pulls out his weapon and shoots him in the thigh.

“This is just the beginning.” Marcus says as he turns and walks back.

I look at Kendra and motion with my hand for the blade, “Now.” I whisper, and without hesitation she pulls it out of her pocket and I charge over to Erik determined.

“Alee-lee-lee-ah, my my, work up the courage to come talk to me with all of your body guards? So brave of you.” He tells me.

I look him in the eyes, and I laugh for a second because his sarcasm is beyond irritating at this point.

“First off,” I begin as I haul off and smack him across the face with all the force I have. “I don’t need body guards, and secondly, I’m braver than you.” I continue.

I pull out the blade but now, I manage to walk behind the Pew.

“Nestor, could you be a gentleman and come over here and make sure Mr. Rodrigo’s hands remained restrained?” I ask Nestor who is one of Miguel’s trusted security men, he walks over and confirms with me that his hands are still restrained.

“Free one of his hands please, this is where my fun begins. I just need you to hold it in place.” I instruct and Nestor obliges.

“Leah, baby, you want to get risky now? This is how you like it? Damn, mami.” Erik comments, which results in another punch from Nestor.

“Erik, Erik, Erik, you poor, unfortunate soul.” I say as I now lean down to his level as I’m now next to Nestor.

“You see Erik, you thought that you owned me You thought you could do whatever you want to me, that you had a right to violate me, assault me, rape me. YOU WERE WRONG, ERIK! See this, right here…” I explain as I point to the razor blade in my hand, up in sight for everyone to see, ready to use.

“This is what you did to me. You made me resort to this, slicing my own fucking wrists!” I shout as I then dig the blade into Erik’s right wrist that Nestor is holding, and I make sure to drag the first cut as slowly as I can, he needs to feel this.  

“Do you feel anything, Erik? Do you feel the pain? The pain of the sharp edge slicing through your skin to make you bleed? I didn’t. I was numb, ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!”

I’m not done yet, as I finally lift the blade, Erik finally cries out in pain.

I can’t lie, it’s music to my ears.

I go over to his other wrist, and I slice that one too.

“That is all, Nestor. Thank you.” I whisper as I lift up the blade.

I stand back in front of Erik for the final time, “You don’t own me, you sick coward. I fucking own you.” I affirm, and before I part ways for the final time, I spit right in his face before I turn back and walk away.

I take one last moment before I turn my back to him, I look at him in the eyes only this time I have confidence. I got my fucking revenge, Erik will never hurt me again.

Right as I rejoin everyone, Kendra has a smile on her face, and Angel has a smirk on his. Kendra gives me a quick side hug before Angel sneaks me from her, he cups my face and presses his forehead to mine.

“I am so fucking proud of you.” He whispers, and a smile creeps up on my face.

I take another deep breath as I hear footsteps, Chibs and Tig now get their say.

“Erik Rodrigo, you know you fucked up with the Mayans but you should have done some research, brother. You see, Leah is not only protected by the Mayans but by us, SAMCRO.” Chibs announces.

“You see, Leah has been under our protection since she was a teenager. We promised her she would be safe, and that she could rely on us and the Mayans to help her when she needs it. You done fucked that up, but guess what, we’re here to help her now and we’re going to fix this.” Tig tells Erik.

“Chibs, you have that knife on ya?” He asks.

“Knife? Another one?” Erik asks in horror.

Chibs and Tig look at each other, and they both have these wicked smirks plastered on their faces which causes me to smirk.

Kendra gives me a questionable look, I look at her and smile, “They got this.” I tell her, and she continues to hold my hand.

“What is it Erik? Are you scared?” Chibs asks nonchalantly.

Tig takes the knife from Chibs, “You see Erik, you thought you were a tough guy or whatever, when you hurt Leah. Well, newsflash dude, men don’t touch women, and they definitely don’t rape them. Therefore, you don’t deserve a dick.” Tig tells Erik as Chibs helps Erik stand up, and at this moment Erik is screaming in terror.

My stomach starts to flip again, and this is too much for me to handle.

I turn to face Angel and he engulfs me in a hug.

“It’s almost over, babe.” He whispers to me as I shut my eyes and just hug Angel as tight as I can as Erik’s screams grow louder and louder.

Tig’s job is finished when I hear other members gasp and groan, “He really cut his dick off?!” I hear Creeper ask from behind Angel.

I let out a really small and low chuckle, because I know Tig isn’t shy from doing things in a disgusting yet theatric manner.

“Oh Erik, don’t be so dramatic. It’s not like you were going to need that anyway.” I hear Chibs say.

“Is that it?” I hear Bishop ask, and I hear muffled voices in the distance.

I think to myself, I surely hope this is it, I mean Erik is bound to bleed out.

I then hear Chibs clear his throat, “One more thing, from beyond the grave, a message from Jax Teller – be thankful he’s not here to do this instead.” Chibs announces and before I can process everything, I hear a gun shot and then a body drop.

“Gun shot in the forehead. It’s over.” Angel whispers to me.

I slowly lift my head up, and turn around slowly to see the scene that played out behind me.

Sure enough, Erik’s lifeless body is now on the floor.

Chibs slowly walks back, but then looks up and says , “Jackie Boy, I hope you’re proud.”

Marcus walks over to him and shakes his hand, “No doubt in my mind, Jax is very proud. Especially of our Aleeah.” He announces as he now turns to me, and everyone makes way for the guys to gather around me.

“Leah, how are you sweetheart?” Bishop asks.

I take a deep breath, and soak in the moment.

This is all real, Erik is gone…he’s dead.

“It’s weird, like I see that he’s dead but like, it doesn’t feel real.” I admit, and it slowly feels like shock is taking over my body.

“Let’s take you outside for some fresh air, Lee.” EZ speaks up.

I nod my head and EZ, Kendra and Angel take me outside.

“Babe, tell me what you’re thinking.” Angel softly says to me as we reach outside and nightfall is upon us.

I run my hands through my hair, “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” I say with a shaky voice again.

Angel hushes me and brings me in for a big hug. “It’s over babe, you’re safe again.” He tells me.

Before I break away from his hug, and I kiss him on the cheek. Angel is taken aback by this move, but he smiles.

I then take a step back and look at Kendra. “Kenz, can I stay with you tonight?” I ask because when I’m feeling like this, the need for best friend time is dire.

I know I’d feel safe with Angel tonight, but right now, my gut is telling me I need my best friend.

“Of course, Lee. You can stay whenever you want.” Kendra says to me.

I turn back to Angel, and I feel bad for not staying with him tonight but I had to remind myself that this isn’t a permanent thing, me staying with him although I want to. “Please don’t be upset that I’m staying with Kendra.” I plead in a whisper, Angel starts shaking his head profusely.

“Leah, stop that. I’m not upset at all, babe. You just did some crazy bad-ass shit tonight, you need rest and you need your best friend. I completely understand. One thing, actually two things…” Angel starts before looking over at EZ, “EZ stays or looks out for the both of you, just to ease my mind and I’m sure Alvarez would want the same thing and secondly, I’ll be over at 9am with coffee and bagels.” He states with another kiss on my forehead.

“That sounds perfect.” I tell him as soon as he moves his lips from me.

Angel and I part ways as EZ takes Kendra and myself back to Kendra’s apartment.

I still feel torn, that I should have just stayed with Angel, but I know I need Kendra tonight.

I need to be smart, if that’s even possible right now.

I can handle my feelings for Angel in the morning, when he brings me a bagel and coffee. For now, I plan on crying to my best friend about the fuckery that just occurred, and I honestly cannot wait to do so.

#Saving You #Leah Parker #Angel Reyes #EZ Reyes #Mayans MC #Sons of Anarchy #Jax Teller #My Writing

[fanesavin]

The Driftwood Prince and Lady Florent share last words and a creature is loose in the castle.

[ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (x) | (x) Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 (x) (x) | Part 7 | Part 8  (x) | Part 9 (x) | Part 10 | Part 11 (x) (x) | Part 12 (x) | Part 13 (x) (x) | Part 14 (x) (x) | Part 15 | Part 16 ]

@thatwhichbindsus​ @ianncardero​

Iann paced. He could hear the cries and calls from outside of the Keep. After the funeral, which both placated and incited the commonfolk, the gates of the Keep were now open, to an extent. People were allowed in, Nobles were allowed out. The Inquisition was drawing to a close, the Cloverry on its way to choosing another High Raj. The funeral was perfect, in a way - as was the destruction of the Kesleys, as was even that incredible assassination attempt in the Lower City on the Queen of Dark Woods. People got the burst of excitement (and since it happened in the Lower City it wasn’t too alarming; terrible things happened to poor people all the time), they got the closure they wanted in the might and majesty of Sharma’s funeral. And now they wanted to move on. But the needed the Castle - and the Sunlit Throne in particular - to tell them how they were to move on. Prepare for war, or settle into peace? This middle-state of anxiety could go one way or another. The crown was now removed from the Sunlit Throne itself, and Iann headed to the Great Hall, to look at the empty throne, no longer guarded. There was no more need. It sat there, in a sliver of sun, as if aching for someone to be seated in it. With the boldness of an impatient man, Iann took a step up to the dias, then turned to look out over the Great Hall, if only to understand that vantage point.

“Not quite the same view as the Driftwood throne is it, my Lord?” Ciara asked, approaching him as if she had always been just beside him. Her hair was twisted up - she had been working, until not so long ago. Black dress and black gloves, each befitting her grief as Lady Florent, the little known lady, not as the master of whispers. Her face was fixed as stone, as she looked him over, standing up. He hadn’t been standing much further than this when he had slit the throat of that herald. It had prevented panic, but at what cost? What a fine act it had been too. Cast himself as one of the heroes of the hour. Be interrogated early, when all the pieces were still hidden, rather than later on.

Iann was gazing at the spot on the floor, so near the flagstone of the Forty Isles. The blood from the herald had almost reached it, but not quite. “You know your way around this Castle better than I,” Iann replied with a glance at the Lady, words intending to imply that she was very good at sneaking. “This is no view for me,” he added, casting his gaze back over the Great Hall. He looked to the left of him, which opened up to the ocean. “I get news of my father almost every day, now.” He turned to look to Ciara. “I believe the new Coronation will be swift, once a High Raj is chosen and then we shall all be on our way again, under whatever manner of peace we can take.” Like feeding off meagre scraps, rather than a full belly after a feast. Perhaps it was better that way. “You’ll plan to remain in the Castle, I assume.”

“Does his news concern you?” She asked, sidestepping his comments as easily as she sidestepped bodies. Ciara had her hands clasped before her, her head tilted, watching, her eyes seeking. “Perhaps. Who would you see on the throne, that would give us peace?” She stepped aside, glancing to the sea also, and wondered whether it called his name out loud, or only whispered it in the dead of night. “Wherever I am wanted.”

“No, not wherever you are wanted,” he said with a smile, recalling their last conversation. “You feel most useful here, don’t you?” It wasn’t an accusation, just a mild realization. As a Prince he had the luxury of feeling wanted, and useful, everywhere he went. He took it for granted that people would want his company (while others detested his presence but had no choice but to accept it). Third daughters of fallen lands didn’t have that advantage, of course. She needed a purpose, whereas he could drift on a whim. “I want who ever the people would find peace and contentment in…” But then Iann frowned when he said it. He’d observed Cassandra’s actions, since the High Raj’s death. Although Iann honestly couldn’t fathom that she was behind Sharma’s demise, he did notice her political manoeuvring towards becoming beloved by the people, ingratiated to the Cloverry. He’d been prepared for that possibility. He’d even been planning to offer Cassandra his ally-ship and support. But then he’d heard news that perhaps Miguel had gotten to Cassandra first. And on top of that, Miguel and Ciara were also seen together, heads bent towards each other. “My father’s news always concerns me. That much should be obvious by now,” Iann said, his voice sounding heavy.

“Where I am wanted is usually where I am useful,” Ciara replied in measured tones. Here, she had evidence. Here, she had the capacity to shape a new era of peace, to help Miguel help people (even if that was to Lord Iann’s loss), to forge trade and bring in a new era of prosperity. Bring her family honour. It was selfish, but also kind. His answer was plain and diplomatic, his face as revealing as a thunderstorm. The thought vexed him, as it did her. “I did not mean to diminish your father’s health,” she said softly, and found herself walking closer once more.

“I’m sure you don’t,” Iann said drily. How much reach did Lady Florent have, exactly? She held secrets, that much he’d known for years, ever since the secret she held for him. How likely was she then to help Miguel do what Iann never would: patricide? His father was ailing and weak, but he’d been a good ruler. If Iann was impatient for the man to die, it was only so Iann could rule properly. But he would wait. He wasn’t sure his younger brother would, especially now that the Inquisition was drawing to a close. Iann grew colder, like a Northern sea. He thought of the Inquisitor, likely longing to return to that predictable, unforgiving cold. “Is there something you need from me, my Lady? I’m at your service.”

“Your observation skills perhaps,” Ciara replied, as he became cold and sharper still. Her bones ached - like everyone else, she was tired. She lay asleep at night with guards watching every corner, and since she had soaked her hands in the blood of lord kesley, she could think of nothing but. “Have I done something to offend you, my lord?”

Iann turned to look at her. “Don’t presume to answer my question with questions of your own, Lady of Florent,” Iann replied. “You wear innocence and naivety like a flimsy veil that does nothing to hide your scars.”

Like all men, he snapped and snarled, a rabid dog baring its teeth in warning. Ciara raised an eyebrow, and did not once shift in the breeze. She could not ask him to mind herself, nor threaten him. She had no armies, no true power. Just the servants in the walls. “Perhaps, but my veils suit you well, do they not?”

There was no snap or snarl to his voice. Iann wasn’t behaving rabidly, nor was he baring any figurative teeth in warning. Why would he need to, when their ranking was so distinct and far apart. The Lady heard what she wanted to hear, to justify her own sense of defense. “Answer my question, what do you want.”

That was an order, and Ciara lowered her head just so in respect, although as with all things, it came with a small edge. “It is no great thing, my lord. One of my servants has a daughter who cleans bedrooms in this castle. Lately, she hasn’t heard from her.” Ciara lowered her voice slightly, as she was about to discuss baser things. “Of course, with this many people in so small a space, it is not so surprising. I wondered if perhaps you knew anyone whose tastes leant that way. But do not let me take more of your time if it does not suit you. You have a great deal on your mind.”

A servant? Iann blinked, not expecting any question to do with a servant. He wasn’t stupid of course; he understood that servants could be just as useful as anything else, when it came to information at least. What he had been, was ignorant. Of course - of course a Lady of this Castle who was held in high esteem by the late High Raj, concerned herself with the business of servants. It all fell into place in Iann’s mind now: servants and secrets. “Why would I know anything of the sort. That is gossip, and I don’t think you need to come to me for that sort of illicit gossip,” Iann stated. He stated again, wording it differently yet again. “Ask me what you want to ask me, Lady.”

“I assume you know a great many things, my lord, of whatever may serve you.” Ciara tilted her head, but as she did, the door to the great hall opened, and one of the Rajisthangard stood, staring at her, one hand on the hilt of his sword. “It appears you’ll have to excuse me, your lordship.” Ciara said, with a tone suitable for any nobility interupted by the commonfolk.

“As you wish,” Iann replied, watching her leave, at the cue of a Rajisthangard who’d clearly come to speak to her.

Ssssnek wasss cold. Lossst. Confusssed. It’s bifurcated tongue flickered out over the cold stone of the palace floor, trying to capture a familiar scent, if one existed. It found none.

Scared Lords and Ladies shrieked and scuffled away at the sight of the snake slithering down the corridor.

Ssssnek slithered down the edge of the corridor. It’s tan, slim body was nearly five feet long, and even though it blended well with the stones, it was hard to miss such a creature. It sensed warmth ahead, and the vibrations of… prey? The warmth neared, but it was not prey. The humansss feared ssssnek, so they ran. Ssssnek was glad for thisss. For it had been drained of its venom by the woman, and would need time to replenish it’s stores.

Scared Lords and Ladies trampled and shoved one another to get away from the terrifying creature slithering the halls. “Help! Help!” their calls echoed down the corridor as they rushed and panicked shoving one another out of the way to try and get ahead down the narrow corridor.

Unsupervised NPC child was nearly trampled as the crowd of adults ran by. He thought it a game however, and turned to follow. Until he saw the curious creature moving down the corridor.

Fane heard the commotion coming from one of the corridors and frowned, heading in that direction to investigate the disturbance.

Ssssnek curled up slightly, startled at the shrill cries of the humansss as they ran from it. It nearly struck at them, but they did not come back. After a tense moment, ssssnek loosened itself and moved on.

Scared Lords and Ladies didn’t care if they trampled one another, all they cared was getting away from the snake nor did they care about the little child lost amongst the crowd. Some, thinking to get rid of enemies grabbed tunics and yanked them back to the floor to clamber ahead to survive.

Unsupervised NPC child saw the ssssnek. He smiled. His father had a book that showed drawings of them, and the boy had been fascinated since the first time he sat on his father’s knee and learned their names. But his father had never seen a serpent in his whole life. Not a real one. Perhaps he could capture this one and take it to him.

Fane seeing the rush of people coming out of one of the hallways frowned, gesturing for a couple of the guards who followed at his heel to come with him. He let some of the panicking crowds pass until there were less left in the corridor. Only then did he see the child and the ssssnek. “Lad, why don’t you come here,” he called to the child eyeing the reptile warily.

An open door along the corridor took the sssnek’s attention. It lifted it’s head slightly, flicking it’s tongue into the new space. There was warmth here. Warm stonessss… smell of… othersss. It smelled of furwearers. The serpent slid across the threshold, oblivious to the child that was reaching for it.

Unsupervised NPC child wondered why all the grownups were so frightened. He looked back down the corridor at the chaos, glad they had passed him over to run away. They always thought they knew better. But he knew about serpents. Books made you intelligent, after all. That’s what his father said. so intent was he on his quarry, that he did not see the Inquisitor as he reached for the tail of the serpent, who’s attention was on something or someone in the room (who the child also did not see), and wrapped his hand around it…

Scared Lords and Ladies continued to panic and scream into the rest of the castle their cries and wails echoing in their wake.

Fane seeing the child go to reach for the tail of the snake didn’t hesitate, he launched into a sprint stooping to catch the child under the arms and heft him out of the way before he could be bit.

Unsupervised NPC child made a sound of protest as he was snatched up. The serpent jerked it’s tail briefly as the child’s fingers brushed it’s scales, but otherwise did not turn towards him. “My Lord, I nearly had him!” the boy protested. “He was lovely. Did you see him?? And now he’s gone…” The boy sagged. “My father will be so disappointed…”

Ssssnek could feel the vibrations of the still panicking humans. They were timid creatures usually. And if the serpent had been capable of forethought, it might have realized that news of it’s escape would spread like wildfire.

Fane lifted the child out of the way despite his protests, “I know you did lad,” his words were soft but concerned as he drew him away from the serpent “but that there’s a very dangerous beastie.” He glanced at his guards who were eyeing the serpent warily, “don’t just stand there find a way to contain it, a cage or… box or something.” He carried the child down the corridor, “is your father here in the castle lad?”

But being a serpent, it’s only thoughts were of finding somewhere warm to hide, and perhaps a meal of mice. But it could not eat if it was cold. Though the smell of furbearers was strong. It slipped slowly through the room, among crates and tables and baskets, tongue flicking as it followed the scents it had picked up. Soon it had disappeared altogether, into the walls and the crevices of the keep. It would find it’s back out eventually. Perhaps in the night, when things were quiet.

Unsupervised NPC child pouted as he pointed the Lord Savin in the direction of his father and was carried away, serpentless.

#got au #got scene