#Threats at each other only to go straight back to smiling and 'happily' playing games together when evan turns to face them again

[and-stir-the-stars]

hello i am reading dire consequence on ao3 and i have a silly little question

does mike come back as a ghost and does he get to have more evan bonding moments <3 i love their relationship

oh my gob if that happened imagine peepaw comin in the resturant too and then he finds! both he kids! and is like "hell yeah easy peasy" but uh :D so its like willy consequences but mike is there too and he is sad :D

ooo, cool! Really glad that you and others enjoy the ao3 series; I was a bit nervous about posting it onto ao3 because it's such a hyperspecific au, yk?

In my and @dire-kumori's tumblr posts about the au, Mike does come back as a ghost. His little brother is still traumatized, hurt, and alone, meaning Mike still has a lot of unfinished business attaching his soul to the earthly realm. However, Michael is also extremely traumatized and terrified of Evan after what Evan (unknowingly) did, so he keeps his presence a secret from Evan.

In an attempt to be there for Evan but have Mike also trying to keep himself safe, Dire came up with the idea of Mike possessing a plushie inside the Freddy's location because he thinks Evan doesn't really need a "brother" so much as he wants a "toy" to play with. (link to my rb of that post). This is a really fun plotline and I don't see myself changing it for the ao3 stories of the au, so you can safely assume that that's how I'll write Mike's ghost if I ever write a Dire Consequences post-death scene.

Evan doesn't actually realize that the talking plush is Michael, but to Mike's horror, Evan likes to *pretend* that the plush is Michael because he misses his big brother so much. Evan's having a hard time coping with the belief that Michael's ghost didn't come back, meaning his big brother chose to abandon him. Plush Mike tries getting Evan to just play games and forget that the big brother who abandoned him even exists because "your brother was awful and mean and isn't worth missing," but Evan is overcome with a little bit of guilt (he doesn't understand *how* he is responsible for Mike's death since he doesn't understand things like hunger or blood loss, but feels like he is responsible for hurting mike somehow and for making Mike choose to leave) and is overcome by a whole lot of grief.

I'm not sure you can consider any of that "brotherly bonding" though, lmao. But Mike tries his best to make Evan feel safe and cared for, and maybe through conversation, Mike starts seeing WHY Evan cares for his big brother so much beyond just "he's my brother" as the reason why. Maybe Mike gets a glimpse at himself through Evan's eyes, and the person he sees there isn't all that bad. Evan must have looked up to and loved Mike for a reason while Ev was still alive, even if Mike eventually turned from "grumpy and rough-around the edges but still kind older brother" to "blatantly cruel."

And to address your last paragraph: I hadn't put any thought to where William would be in this version of Dire Consequences, but the idea of William entering the location after Michael's death is so friggin cool??

Dire sent me an ask once and I responded by saying that maybe Plush Mike tries giving Evan "human lessons" and teaching Ev things what will and won't hurt humans, so that what happened to Mike will never happen to anyone else who should happen to stumble into the building (or to himself, should Mike ever choose to leave the plushie). Now I'm thinking about Plush Mike putting all this time and effort into teaching Evan what things will and won't hurt people and why he shouldn't want to hurt people, then William enters the location and Mike is like. "Hey Ev. Remember everything we've been talking about? yeah I'm gonna need you to forget all that just this once while we go play a game with Father, okay?"

Tho, I imagine Mike would be horrified and would want to keep Evan as far away from William as possible. Unfortunately for him, maybe Evan doesn't know about William's murders/isn't terrified of William from how William abused his kids, and Evan leaps at the chance to have his father back just like he wanted Mike back.

I'm also thinking about the absolute drama that would occur from William exposing Plush Mike's identity to Evan.

Evan didn't put the pieces together about this random plushie coming to life after Mike died, but William absolutely would. William might use the confusion, hurt, and betrayal Evan feels upon realizing Mike lied to him for so long to try manipulating Evan into doing what he wants.

Or, he could threaten Mike; Mike has some level of control over Evan now, so William could easily tell Mike "I will tell Evan what you are if you don't get him to comply with my wishes." That way he would have both Mike AND Evan under his control.

Gosh, how would William even respond when he walks into this location and finds Evan's ghost and Mike's corpse? If Evan told William what happened or if William put the pieces together himself, would Will immediately decide Evan can't be controlled and try getting himself out rather than risk his life? Although, Evan might not let him go. it depends on how scared of William Ev is from William's abuse when he was alive.

Would Michael try killing William before he can hurt Evan, or anyone else? Or would Mike be too afraid that William's soul wouldn't move on; would Mike be afraid of trapping William's ghost with them forever? Or would he not think about that until it's too late?

You have given me so much to think about, bestie; this is lovely

#Would also be hilarious if mike and william were like. Trying to save face and not upset evan (william bc he doesn't #Want to die and mike bc he wants Ev to be happy) so they're trying to 'play nice' with each other #But the *second* evan has his back turned plush mike and william are glaring and making nonverbal death #Threats at each other only to go straight back to smiling and 'happily' playing games together when evan turns to face them again #dire consequences au #willy consequences au #evan afton support center #evan afton #mike afton #michael afton #william afton

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

I’ll Take X-pecting for 200, Alex

Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid plays a trivia game at the request of his wife, Y/N, but he’s in for more than some heaving hitting questions. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Wife Reader 

Word Count: 1.5k 

Author’s Note: I really don’t think that this summary does this justice

I’ll Take X-pecting for 200, Alex 

Shuffling the cards with a shake in her hand, Y/N tells herself to just breathe. This is something that Spencer and her have been looking forward to, dreamed about, and constantly discussed. Regardless of how much she knows Spencer loves her, there’s a lingering seed of doubt that only grows with the sound of Spencer walking into their house. 

“Y/N!, I’m home, darlin’,” Spencer calls from the hallway, dropping the “g” because he knows that Y/N finds it endearing. 

“Baby,” Y/N yells from the table. “I’m in the dining room. I made us a trivia game! Come play with me, I need your brains,” she finishes, smiling at her husband, who has been away for nearly two weeks.

“You know do I love trivia, Y/N,” Spencer says. He takes a seat next to his wife, but before he can kiss her, she pushes him out of his chair and motions for him to take the seat opposite of her.

“Before we start, how was the case? Everyone make it home in one piece?” Y/N asks concerned over the wellbeing of some of her closest friends. 

“Everyone’s fine, Y/N. The unsub ended up being a team. Two women hellbent on getting revenge for their children’s murders. One of them got away,” Spencer explains, solemnly. 

“Oof,” Y/N says, letting out a sigh. “It’s at times like these that I’m glad I don’t have your job. I’m kinda glad she got away, between you and me.” 

“It’s hard, sometimes we don’t really know who we’re bringing justice too. But, I’d do anything to protect my future children, and you. Anything I needed to do to keep you safe,” Spencer tells her, leaning across the table and kissing Y/N’s hand. She gives him a sheepish smile, but inside her mind is eager to get this trivia game started. 

“You’re a charmer, Dr. Reid,” Y/N flirts. 

“Just for you, Y/N. Now you mentioned something about trivia,” Spencer says, clapping his hands together excitedly. 

“I just thought you’d like to rest your brain after a case but shifting though all those facts you got stored up there. And I always said you should try out for Jeopardy,” Y/N says as she collects the cards with the clues. 

She spreads out the categories, Child Psychology, Children’s Books, Labor & Delivery, Nursery Rhymes, X-Epecting, on the table. They were all handwritten on different colorful pieces of cardstock and decorated with baby animals and block letters. Y/N read the categories aloud to her husband, allowing herself to steal a glance at his face while he concentrated on the categories, as if he already could answer the questions. 

“All right, Spencer, you pick first,” Y/N says, in her best Alex Trebek impression. 

“I’ll take Child Psychology for $200,” Spencer chooses, looking up to smile at Y/N. 

“This is the substitute mother that baby monkeys formed an attachment to in Harlow’s psychological experiment,” Y/N asks.

“Terry-Cloth,” Spencer interjects. 

“Not uh, Spence, you need to answer correctly,” Y/N teases. She looks up at him expectantly to choose the next clue. He rolls his eyes at her, but secretly he enjoys the playful banter they still share even after all these years. 

“Um, Children’s Books $200,” 

“This is the story of the clever spider that can weave words in her web,” 

“What is Charlotte’s Web?” 

“Correct, pick again please,” Y/N says, as she tries to maintain a stoic composure. 

“This is the average of days that newborns keep up their sleepless parents,” Y/N asks, sure that this question would stump her genius husband. But to no avail, Spencer answers the question correctly. 

“Okay! Next time try-outs are around, I’m forcing you to take the test,” Y/N says running over to kiss Spencer on the cheek. 

“You know judges are supposed to remain impartial, Y/N” Spencer tells her, putting his arm around her waist as if he’s signally her to sit in his lap. 

“I can’t help it, how about you win kisses every time you get a question right, Spence,” Y/N proposes. 

“I guess it’s worth more than fake money,” Spencer teases.

“You offend me, baby!” Y/N pretends to be hurt by Spencer’s words, but urges him to continue the game. 

“You only got a couple more left, Spence,” 

“Okay, how about X-Expecting for $200,” Spencer chooses. 

“This chromosome is linked to the baby’s mother,” Y/N quizzes, finding it difficult to keep her smiles and secrets at bay when Spencer’s arm tugs around her waist tightly and his fingers draw patterns under her shirt. 

“What is X-Chromosome,” Spencer answers before Y/N can even finish the clue. 

“You know that you’re supposed to wait until the clue is read, Spence. I should redact kisses,” Y/N fake threats. 

“No! Y/N I’ll die without your kisses, please!” Spencer cries out in pretend disain. Much to his amusement his goofy behavior leads Y/N to plant small pecks on his forehead. 

“There, that should hold you over,” 

“I doubt it, Y/N. I miss you already,” Spencer mutters into her shoulder, as if he’s trying to get closer to his wife more than he could already be with her sitting on his lap. 

“Two more clues till Final Jeopardy,” Y/N announces, ignoring the fact that she’s bypassing the rest of the clues and totally disregarding Double Jeopardy. 

“Hmm, let’s go to Nursery Rhymes for kissing for the rest of my life,” Spencer picks, peppering Y/N’s shoulder with kisses. 

“Huh! Look at that, Spencer, you got the Daily Double, so whatcha going to wager?” Y/N asks, knowing she’s pulling this Daily Double straight out of the air, but Spencer’s affection for only one lifetime is not nearly enough for her. 

“I’ll make a true Daily Double, darling. That means double the amount of kisses,” Spencer tells her, ticking the sides of Y/N waist. 

“Here’s your clue, Jack is urged to be nimble & quick, helping him do this,” Y/N reads from the card. 

“What is to jump over the candlestick?” Spencer guesses, closing his eyes to be assaulted by Y/N’s eager lips. 

“Yay! Double kisses!” Y/N yells happily as she pecks Spencer’s eyelids and nose, causing him to laugh at her light affection. 

“Next question, it’s the last one so you don’t get a choice, but I have so much confidence in you, my genius husband. These are the names of the 3 stages of labor?” Y/N questions, looking over her shoulder to get a glimpse of Spencer’s mind at work. 

“What are dilation, expulsion, and afterbirth,” Spencer answers, once again perfectly. 

“Okay, Dr. Reid you’ve accumulated a total of double kisses for the rest of our lives. Your Final Jeopardy category is, Ready For It…” Y/N announces. 

“Last one,” Spencer says, and Y/N wonders if Spencer’s figured it out by now. She hands Spencer the small cardboard box. He looks at it curiously and Y/N can feel her heart in her stomach. He must know by now, she thinks. He’s brilliant, but sometimes he can be a little clueless when it comes to things like that. Y/N thinks back to how they danced around each other for years before Derek practically had to force them out on a date. He must know. 

“You’re clue is inside the box, Spence,” Y/N tells him, her voice shaky and unsure. 

Spencer carefully opens the cardboard box and reaches in to pull out the small pregnancy test that lay hidden inside. He looks it over, reading the test twice, three times, maybe even four times. He honestly can’t remember taking longer to read something. Spencer looks up at a terrified Y/N. 

“You’re pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?” Spencer asks, desperately wanting to believe what he holds in his hand. 

“You’re gonna be a daddy, Spence,” Y/N tells him, her smile struggling to conceal itself in between the bouts of happiness and joy that courses through her veins. 

“A baby! Oh Y/N. A baby!” Spencer shouts rushing over to where his wife stands in between the entrance from their kitchen to their dining room. 

“You’re happy, right Spence. You want this with me-” Y/N starts, a sudden rush of fear lodging itself in her heart. 

“Of course I’m happy, Y/N. I’m so happy to be a dad. You’re going to be a mom! You’ll be the best mom, Y/N. I love you, Y/N,” Spencer says, crouching down to rub his hands on Y/N’s belly. 

“Hi sweet baby,” Y/N says softly, looking down at her belly and covering her hand over Spencer’s. “I want you to meet your daddy. He’s going to take care of you so well, he might talk a lot but you get used to it” 

“Hey, baby. It’s your dad,” Spencer murmurs quietly into Y/N’s belly. “I’m so glad that mommy told me about you. You gotta do some growing in there before you can meet us, but we love you so much, baby,”

“I really love you so much Y/N,” Spencer says as he sits up to kiss his wife. 

All his life Spencer’s loved science. He loves discovering the undiscovered. Memorizing all those theories and facts and methods could never prepare him for the awe that sat before him. He realizes that he’s looked at science all wrong. There's a beauty in science- a natural, unadulterated beauty that’s so rare to find. But he’s found it and he’s never letting go.

Thank You for Reading!

Taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ 

If anyone wants to be tagged in new posts, feel free to comment and I’ll be thrilled to tag you <3

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fics #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid deserved a happy ending

[minteyeddevil]

hello hello! ii saw you did a post with an mc whos afraid of tthunder storms (or tthunder more specifically). ii was wondering iif you could do tthe opposite!

mc could be going down tto tthe human world with [character(s)] and a dangerous happens tto pop up, only ffor mc tto go out running iinto tthe rain tto enjoy tthe storm despite tthe danger! (ii have a big ffondness ffor tthunder storms iif you couldn't ttell llolol) ffeel ffree tto do any characters you ffeel comfortable with, honestly ii jjust want diavolo iin iit llol. gn!mc please!!

on another note, your works are really good'!! ii ttend tto re-read tthem because ttheyre so well written! ( also, sorry about tthe ttyping quirk! ii know iit can be hard tto read :] ) hope you have a nice day!!!

(No worries about your typing, doesn't bother me at all :) an do appreciate you enjoying my writing, it means a lot! I have a giant fondness for thunderstorms as well, and I hope this comes out well for you!)

Also fair warning, this will have a few spoilers from Season 3! It's rather subtle, but still!

---

Lucifer:

He was sitting with MC in the common area, when a loud thunderclap rang over head. He didn't think anything of it, until MC bolted to their feet and ran to the window, looking up at the clouds with an excited expression. Before he could ask what they were doing, they ran out the front door, reveling in the light drizzle that soon turned it a rough downpour, jumping around and laughing as they played in the rain.

He immediately scolded them for running out into the middle of a storm, yelling at them about how they could get hit with a lightning bolt or catch a human cold because of being so drenched; but they simply continue to run around in the rain without a care, nagging at him to join them instead of lecturing them so much.

He frowned and stood at the top step of the house's entrance, just watching them run around until they let themselves fall into a puddle and sigh happily up at the sky. He gets an umbrella and walks out to them, standing over them on the ground and asks if they are done playing around and ready to get back inside where its dry and warm. They reluctantly follow him back inside, but make him screech out when they give him the wettest and coldest hug of his life.

Mammon:

Curled up on the couch while both just playing on their phones, Mammon jumps a bit when he hears the loud thunder boom overhead. He mumbles about a storm rolling in when they start to hear the rain splatter on the windows, and MC gets to their feet, completely excited. They grab him by the arm and drag him to the front door, swinging it open to watch as the rain comes down.

Okay, this is fine, he thinks, just standing around watching the rain together. Totally not...totally not romantic or anything! But he panics a bit when MC bolts outside and starts playing in the rain, spinning in circles while getting absolutely drenched. He calls for them to come back inside cause the wind is picking up a bit, but they seem to ignore him, just jumping into puddles and dancing around.

Ugh, he always has to look out for this human. He grabs an umbrella and walks out into the rain to grab them by the arm and drag them back inside; but instead they wrap their arms around him and get him just as drenched, 'begging' him to stay in the rain with them.

Well...fine, MC. Only cause you asked so nicely.

Leviathan:

Gaming in his room, they are sitting next to each other when the thunder rattles overhead, making some of his figures shake. He shutters at the storm rolling in, praying that the power doesn't go out in the middle of their gaming, only to be surprised by MC getting to their feet and practically bolting out of his room. He reluctantly follows (also because he is a little sad they ditched him and wants to see what is so much more important than him) and finds them standing in the doorway as the rain begins to pour.

They notice him approach and he sees how excited their face looks when they see the rain pick up, and before he can say anything, they run outside and start jumping in puddles, getting completely soaked. He watches them for a little bit and originally think 'Ugh, stupid normie, doing dumb things that'll get them sick...'; but eventually gives in to his own want and runs out to join them.

They jump around together, laughing and playing, until they hear Lucifer's voice booming from the front door for them to get back inside immediately.

Satan:

The thunder above draws him out of his reading revelry, and he notices MC sitting by the window looking out at the sky. He can see their features light up when the rain begins to patter on the glass of the window, and soon they are standing and running out of his room. He gets up right away to follow close behind, and when they swing open the door to run outside, he freezes.

Oh. They are going out into the rain? His inner cat comes out at the thought of getting drenched and he warns MC that they could get sick or even hurt with how much the storm is picking up; but they wave off his worry with a smile and just go about splashing in puddles and dancing around. He sighs and stands at the doorway just watching them for a while, before grabbing an umbrella to go and fetch them.

Ugh, giant mistake; they pull him into a soaking hug and make him dance around with them in the rain, the useful umbrella soon lost to the wind as he gets absolutely drenched along side them. He makes MC promise to help dry him off once they are inside.

Asmodeus:

A giant frown graces his features when he hears the thunderclap, saddened that his plans for the day have been ruined. He can't go shopping in the rain, it would ruin all the work he put into making his hair behave the way he wanted it to. But when he notices MC leave his room and quickly head outside, he follows and stops dead at the front door, watching in horror as they head straight into the rain and begin to splash around in it.

He calls out to them about how they are going to get the worst cold ever being in the cold rain and dealing with the chilly wind, and begs them to come back inside so he can help dry them off. When they step back up to the door, they are drenched head to toe and his frown only deepens. When he is about to drag them back inside, they tug him without warning and pull him out into the rain, making him screech.

He tries his best to not show his anger and annoyance, but they simply smile at him and tease about how rain water is actually incredibly good for their hair!

Beelzebub:

They were curled up on his bed watching videos on MC's phone when they both jumped at the thunder booming overhead. He noticed how excited MC seemed to get and asked if they liked thunderstorms. They enthusiastically said yes and asked if he would like to go out into the rain with them, since they enjoyed being out in it. He kind of shrugs and agrees, laughing a bit when they get up right away and drag him by his wrist outside with them.

They jump in puddles and dance around as the rain comes down, and he just stands there for a bit watching them with a giant smile on his face. They take his hands and spins him in circles for a bit, laughing loudly at how much fun they are having with him.

Eventually they lay down on the pavement and sigh as the rain comes down, and he joins them, just kind of listening to rain hit the ground, until Belphie calls to both of them to come back inside and stop being weirdos.

Belphegor:

Oh, thunderstorms are the perfect setting for a nice, long nap. He was fully intending on dragging MC to his bed to curl up with them and take said nap, but frowned when he sees them book it towards the front door. He reluctantly follows to see what they are doing, only to panic when they run out straight into the rain. Does this human have a death wish? The lightning alone is a giant threat and they become a giant conductor getting soaked like that!

But his warnings go ignored as they run around in the rain, laughing and smiling as they get completely drenched. He gives a long sigh before plopping down in the doorway, fully intending to keep an eye on them and make sure they will be okay, but the pattering of the rain lulls him to sleep.

He wakes up later feeling rather cold and wet, confused by the sensation since he hadn't gone into the rain; only to find MC curled against his side, softly snoring. He rolls his eyes and picks them up, planning to lecture them on being more careful and also not to get him so damn wet.

Diavolo:

He came up to the human world to visit Serenity Manor, reluctantly with work in mind to discuss with Lucifer. In the midst of said meeting, a thunderclap rings out and initially he ignores it, until he sees MC heading for the front door of the manor. They run out right away and his curiosity gets the better of him, excusing himself from the meeting to go see what they are up to.

The door is still open and he first looks for them on the large front of the manor, before looking out onto the pavement and see them splashing in the rain, letting their entire being get soaked to the bone. He chuckles and watches them for a moment, before giving in and running into the rain to join them. They take his hands and dance around, laughing and fully enjoying themselves.

They end up sitting on the steps together, talking for a bit as the rain continues to come down around them, until Lucifer comes outside and lectures the both of them for being foolish and possibly getting themselves sick.

Barbatos:

He and MC were sharing some tea and sweets together while he was visiting the manor with Diavolo, when the thunderstorm rolled in. He ignored the thunder, enjoying his conversation with MC, when their eyes lit up at the rain beginning to fall. They politely excused themselves, apologizing, but their excitement over the rain was winning. They walked quickly over to the front door, opening it and rushed outside.

He stood and followed, standing in the doorway as he watched them hop down the stairs and straight into the rain with no jacket or umbrella. He frowned, sure they were going to fall ill, so he mentally noted some human world medication he would get for them once the sick hit them. Though, he had to admit, he did enjoy seeing them so happy out in the rain.

Once they had their fill of playing in the storm, he was ready to greet them with some warm towels and a hot drink to warm them up. They teased him about missing out on all the fun, but he simply smirked at them and dropped a towel on to their head, telling them he had just enough fun watching them be silly.

Simeon:

MC was visiting the cafe, Simeon enjoying the fact that the flow of customers was slow enough for him to sit and have a conversation with them. Though when the thunderstorm began to roll in, customers began to file out more, rushing home to avoid getting caught in the rain. When he asked if MC was going to head home, they simply shrugged and looked outside, before heading right out into the rain.

The angel was taken aback by them just rushing out, grabbing an umbrella to go retrieve them; but they stayed in their spot, turning up their face to let the rain fall on them. They explained how much they loved thunderstorms, and how being in the rain always made them feel so happy and free. He stood out there with them while they danced around, watching them closely to make sure nothing would happen to them.

Once content, and absolutely soaking wet, he helped them back inside and grabbed some towels from storage to help dry them up a bit. He had them wait in the cafe a bit longer until the storm died down some, and walked them home to spend more time with them.

Solomon:

In the midst of a study session between apprentice and master, a thunderstorm boomed above them. Solomon didn't think much of it, continuing to go over notes with MC, but soon realized they were extremely distracted by the rain. He chuckled and asked if they wanted to go out in the rain, and the way their face lit up was enough of an answer for him.

They didn't even bother to wait for him and bolted outside, right into the downpour, laughing and jumping around as they splashed in the puddles. He stood at the top step and watched them for a bit, before going against his better judgement and ran out into the rain with them. He performed little magic tricks with the rain drops, reveling in how fascinated MC looked while watching him.

They ended up laying together on the pavement while enjoying the rain coming down on them. He had never really enjoyed the rain that much until now. He also laughed out loud when MC forced him to promise he would teach them how to do those 'magic tricks' he showed them earlier.

#obey me #shall we date obey me #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #diavolo #barbatos #simeon #solomon #request #headcanon #o-o-l-o-n-g

[buckyssoldat]

The one (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Summary: Sharon confesses her love to Steve and his girlfriend accidentally hears it, which leaves her insecure and confused. Does Steve love her or Sharon?

Word count: 2650

Warnings: fluff mixed with angst and sadness, alcohol consumption, strong language, mentions of sex, implied smut

A/N: Hope everyone likes this! Also, please check my fic ‘Forsaken - The Fallen Soldier’. Feedback is always appreciated, don’t be shy to share your thoughts on this :)

Her eyes pooled with water as she watched her best friends in the living room of their apartment. She and Steve had been together for almost two years and everything was great, well, except for one thing – Sharon Carter, her best friend in the whole world, was in love with her boyfriend.

Both Sharon and Steve thought they were home alone. They started drinking late at night, which led them to play some games. The one being played at the moment was to tell their deep and darkest secrets. They didn’t hear her come in, so they continued playing the game. And she entered her apartment right when Sharon was exposing hers.

“Steve…” she heard Sharon say while looking at him, “I have always loved you…”

It was in that exact moment that she felt her heart break into million pieces. Sharon was one of her best friends and she trusted her with her whole life, but there was always a part in her that felt jealous of hear, even though she didn’t show it, or at least she tried not to. Having the perfect boyfriend, one of the best agents at Shield, being so beautiful and strong, and the way Steve would sometimes look at her. She had noticed it since she first joined the team. She even thought he was in love with Sharon, but those feelings went away when they finally started dating. She would sometimes feel a bit jealous of their close friendship, but she knew Steve loved her and would never leave her. Seeing Sharon professing her love for him made her feel insecure again, especially after the way Steve looked at her, as if he were ready to confess his love for her as well.

After that unexpected confession, she entered the living room, pretending she didn’t hear what had happened. The best way to deal with it was not dealing with it, or at least that was what she thought. When Steve noticed her presence, he went immediately to her arms, happy to see her home. She did hug him back, but Steve noticed something was wrong with her, especially after seeing her reject Sharon’s hug and giving her a smile instead before going back to the kitchen to make herself some coffee. He decided to speak with her once Sharon left, which happened just a few minutes later. She sensed her best friend was acting strange, so she decided to leave the couple alone and go home.

“You were acting weird” Steve said as he took another bite of the pizza they had ordered for dinner, “Did something happen at work? Was Nat too hard on you during training? She can be like that sometimes, but she doesn’t mean it.”

“I wasn’t acting strange” she answered without looking at him.

“You were. I felt it when I hugged you and then you rejected Sharon’s hug. Did I do something wrong? If I did, please tell me what it was. I hate seeing you like this.”

she sighed before finally locking eyes with her boyfriend, “You did nothing wrong, Steve. I’m just tired from training all day, nothing more.” She got up from the couch and patted his shoulder, “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Steve.”

He didn’t even have the time to answer her, as she was already inside his bedroom, ready to go to sleep.

Once she was inside their bedroom, she took off all her clothes and picked an old t-shirt from his closet. As she laid down on the bed, she was engulfed by his scent, which was the final straw for her. The tears she had been trying to hold while she ate dinner with Steve were finally running down her cheeks and falling on the pillowcase. Why was she so insecure? Steve loved her more than anything and would never intentionally hurt her. Sharon was not a threat to their relationship, she was happily in a relationship with Frank and would never leave him. So why was she feeling so sad and insecure, afraid to lose the only person she ever truly loved? Steve entered the bedroom only a few minutes later, making her clean her wet cheeks as quick as she could before he noticed. He took off all his clothes, except his boxers, and laid next to her. As usual, he stretched his arms so they could fall asleep cuddling each other, but she immediately moved away from him.

He called her name, trying to figure out what was happening with her, but she didn’t answer him. Deciding that it was best to let her sleep, he shifted himself around, turning her back on her. And for the first time since the couple started dating, they slept with their backs to each other.

 It was almost nine in the morning when Steve woke up. Luckily, the entire team had the day off, so he didn’t have to worry about going to work. He turned around, ready to meet his lover, but he only found an empty side of the bed and a note on top of her pillow.

Going off the grid for a few days. Already talked with Nat. Be back for Tony and Pepper’s wedding. I love you.

At first, he double checked the calligraphy in the note to make sure it was hers. Then, he thought it was a prank and that was gonna be waiting for him in the kitchen, but when he got up and didn’t find her there, he started to panic. Picking up his phone, he tried to call her, but she had left her phone on top of the coffee table. Next option was to call Natasha since she said in her note she had already talked with her, but her phone was off, so he got dressed and went to her apartment.

After ringing Nat’s bell for almost a minute straight, she finally opened the door, wearing a robe and yawning.

“Cap? Is everything alright?” she asked as she motioned him to come in.

“Where is she?” he questioned, already inside of her living room.

“Um, I don’t know Steve” Nat started to get worried about her friends. “She called me at 6am saying that she needed a break until Tony’s wedding. I thought she told you.”

“She didn’t.” Steve was pacing back and forth in front of the couch, nervously running his hands through his hair. “I woke up this morning and she was already gone. She left me this.” He handed the note to her. “I’m worried about her, Natasha. She was acting strange yesterday, but I was gonna talk to her about it today and now she’s gone and she-”

“Steve,” Nat interrupted him, “She is okay, I’m sure of it. The wedding is in just four days and she will be back by then. Whatever she’s going through, you’re gonna solve it together, but if she needs space, you gotta give her space, otherwise she will never come back. You know how she is, she doesn’t handle pressure well.”

“I just… I just wanna know what’s bothering her so I can help her get through it.” Steve’s voice was much calmer than it was before.

Nat went to his side and put her hand on his shoulder, “Just wait until Tony’s wedding and then you’ll talk to her.”

 The next four days were like hell for Steve. He couldn’t stop worrying about her, thinking about where she was and if she was safe or not. The morning of Tony’s wedding, Steve got dressed and went to the venue. When he arrived there, he saw her happily speaking to Thor. There was a time where Steve was extremely jealous of the god of thunder. When he joined the team, him and her immediately started flirting back and forth. Back then, Steve and she weren’t dating yet, but he loved her. He accidentally found out that she and Thor were sleeping together when he went to her place late at night. It was something they usually did, go to each other’s apartments when one of them couldn’t sleep. That night, Steve was so distraught about Thor that he didn’t even text her he was coming over. When she opened her front door, she was only wearing a big white t-shirt that barely covered her bottom. The first thing Steve noticed was how effortlessly beautiful she looked; the second thing was that she wouldn’t wear that kind of t-shirt; the third thing was the t-shirt was a men’s shirt.

 “I’m sorry, I forgot to ask you if I could come over” Steve cocked his head to the right, getting a clear view of her living room, where clothes were scattered all over the place. That was when he noticed the hammer on top of her coffee table. And then he remembered Thor was wearing a white t-shirt that day. “I didn’t know you had company. I’m sorry, I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“Yeah, um…” her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. She knew Steve noticed the clothes and the hammer on her living room and the men’s t-shirt she was wearing, “this isn’t really a good time, but I can get dressed and we can go to your apartment. It’s fine Steve, really, I just gotta-”

“No,” he interrupted her, “it’s okay. I should have asked if I could come over. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay? Have fun.” Steve immediately left, not giving her an opportunity to answer him.

 Since she and Thor stopped sleeping together, Steve never felt jealous of him again, especially after the Asgardian reassured him he didn’t have feelings for her and that he should tell her how he felt about her.

When the couple finally locked eyes, she looked away, continuing her conversation with Thor. Stee went to Sharon so they could finally talk about her confession a few days ago. Little did he know was that she saw them together and got closer to the pair without them noticing so she could hear the conversation. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop on her boyfriend and her best friend, but she had to. What if Steve was telling Sharon he had always loved her as well? It was possible. Sharon loved Steve even though she had Frank. What if she was like Frank?

It wasn’t the conversation that broke her heart even more, but the look Steve had on his face as he watched Sharon walk away. In her mind, he looked at her as if she was his whole world, as if she was the only person he had ever loved. She thought Steve looked at Sharon like she thought he looked at her and that broke her completely, but she couldn’t ruin Tony and Pepper’s special day, so she had to hold it together. Every time Steve tried to approach her, she would sneak her way around and dodge him.

After telling a couple of funny stories about Tony to Pepper, she made her way to the bar so she could grab another drink, but the bartender wasn’t there. She decided to sit in one of the stools and wait. When Steve saw her alone, he went to her. This was his opportunity to finally talk to her for the first time in almost five days.

“Hey” he said as he sat next to her.

“Hi” she mumbled as she fidgeted with her fingers.

“I’m sorry.”

She let out a snarky laugh, “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for, Steve, so why are you apologizing?”

“I don’t, but-”

“Do you love her back?”

“What?” Steve asked confused.

“I know what Sharon confessed to you that night. I know how she feels about you. My question is, do you love her back or not?”

“How do you-”

“Just answer me, Steve.”

“No, I don’t love her. I mean, I do love her, but not like that anymore. I stopped loving her as soon as I saw you walk in into the tower.”

He tried to put his hand on top of her, but she quickly dismissed his touch. She didn’t believe what he had just said, not after seeing the way he looked at Sharon. Steve loved Sharon and she was just a replacement since he couldn’t have the real deal. She got up, but he gently grabbed her wrist.

“Please, I’m telling you the truth.”

“Let me go. This is Tony and Pepper’s day, I don’t wanna cause a scene, so let me go, Cap. Now.” Steve did as she asked and let go of her wrist. “Call me when you decide to stop lying.”

She left him alone at the bar. Sharon didn’t hear their conversation, but she noticed the way she looked as she made her way to Tony and Pepper to apologize for leaving so early. Sharon wanted to go to Steve, but she knew it would only make him feel worse about himself. She was sure he was in love with his girlfriend and that she was the love of his life, but she was also sure that her confession had left him confused.

 She took off a couple more days. No one knew why, only Steve. Sharon suspected it was because of her, but she didn’t say anything. She got the confirmation when she didn’t visit her at the hospital after she was hurt in a mission. The only thing she got from her was a text saying “Glad you’re okay” and nothing more.

After almost one week and a half, she finally decided to text her boyfriend.

I’m ready to talk, you can come over. If you want to.

As soon as he saw that text, he sped up to their apartment. Truth was, he missed her like crazy and couldn’t go on one more day without her. Bucky was right – she was the one.

When he got there, she was sitting on their couch in the living room, a cup of coffee between her hands, waiting for him to arrive.

“Hey” he said as he joined her on the couch.

“Hi” she replied.

“So…” Steve began, “I just wanted to come clear with you – Sharon did tell me she had always loved me, and it’s true that I loved her in the past, but that changed the second you entered the tower. I fell in love the second I laid my eyes on you. And you might think I’m lying, but I’m not. I wouldn’t do that, not to you. If I loved Sharon, I would be with her. But I love you, and only you. You’re the only one and you will always be. You’re the one.”

“Steve…”

“Please, don’t leave. I can’t live without you.”

“I’m not leaving. I wanted to apologize for my behaviour. What I did was stupid and childish, I should have never run away from you, or Sharon. I just got… insecure.”

He put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him, “You have nothing to be insecure of. You’re the most beautiful person in the whole world for me and I love you more than I can ever explain.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. I really am.”

“I know you are, but I’m not the only one who deserves an apology. Sharon has been worried about you, she loves you and misses you. She was really upset when you didn’t come visit her at the hospital.”

“Don’t worry” she smiled at him, “I already talked and apologized to her before I got here. She said she was sorry for sharing that secret. We’re cool now.”

“That’s good, sweetheart” Steve grabbed her by the hips and pulled her on his lap, “Now let me show you how much I love you.”

She giggled before she grabbed him by the neck and kissed him on the lips, happy to be by his side again.

masterlist

#steve rogers fic #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #captain america one shot #captain america fic #captain america x you #captain america x female reader #captain america x reader #captain america x y/n #steve rogers fluff #captain america fluff #steve rogers angst #captain america angst #steve rogers sadness #captain america sadness

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Three

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1740

Warnings: Nosy (and well-meaning) friends acting like nosy siblings, angst, bad language words

A/N: After I originally posted this chapter on AO3, I got some comments that exacerbated the beginnings of a year long depression. Please be kind. I intended this chapter to come across as the gang being like siblings...always being in each other’s business. Is there a breach of privacy? Yes, but without the ill-intent. 

DO NOT copy or replicate without permission

Bucky clutched his phone in his flesh hand as he made his way down a long hallway to the communal kitchen and eating area. A soft, crooked smile rested at his lips as he entered the space. Natasha and Sam were sitting at opposite ends of the rectangular table separating the kitchen from the lounge, enjoying a late breakfast. Steve was at a kitchen counter fiddling with the Keurig machine. He pulled another mug from the cupboard when he saw Bucky approach. “Mornin’, Buck. Sleep well?”

Bucky’s grin broadened as he leaned his backside against the countertop. “I did, actually. Thanks for asking,” he answered, looking to his phone at the incoming text.

(Y/N) Would you rather have skin that changes color based on your emotions or tattoos appear all over your body, depicting what you did the day before?

He missed the way Sam and Nat looked at each other in suspicion at his answer to Steve. He was too busy pressing the keys on his touch-screen.

Bucky The tattoos would be awkward, speaking from a male’s perspective, so I think color changing would be better. Not by much, though.

Bucky Would you rather have edible spaghetti hair that regrows every night or sweat maple syrup?

Bucky saw Steve slide the new mug, now filled with coffee, across the granite-top toward him from the corner of his eye. He glanced up quickly from the screen and nodded. “Thanks, buddy.” Steve answered with a smile.

“What, no grunted thanks or mumbled acknowledgment?” Natasha quipped, standing from her seat to place her plate in the dishwasher.

“Yeah, man. You have been using way too many words lately. I miss the grumpy dude that would brood in the corner,” Sam added, crossing his arms at his chest. “Are we even sure this is the right Bucky?”

Bucky’s phone vibrated again.

(Y/N) I love me some spaghetti! Can you imagine sweating sticky, gooey maple syrup during a humid New York summer?? Your clothes would be toast.

(Y/N) Mmmm, french toast.

Bucky chuckled at the reply, drawing the attention of three sets of eyes.

Sam wasn’t wrong; he wasn’t the same Bucky.

It had been five days since (Y/N)’s first drunken texts. Five days. He couldn’t believe so little time had passed. Somehow, (Y/N) had wiggled her way under his skin.

He had noticed after only a day or two; he was smiling more, less volatile. He felt lighter, happier. He wasn’t skulking about the compound like usual, trying to avoid the rest of the team. Some might go as far as to say he was friendlier than usual.

It felt good to have someone, a friend, learning about the real James Buchanan Barnes, for once, without the threat of The Soldier clouding their perception of him.

“You’re freaking me out, man. Straight outta Invasion of the Body Snatchers or some shit,” Sam declared, rising from his chair.

“Hold on, Sam,” Steve placated, lifting a hand to the advancing man. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation to Bucky’s good mood lately.”

Bucky set his jaw in frustration, the muscles ticking. He wasn’t a Pod Person. He was just happy, for the first time in seventy-five years.

His phone went off again.

(Y/N) Would you rather sneeze once every hour, on the hour, or burp every time you saw an attractive girl?

A wide smile split his mouth as he scanned the screen.

Bucky Am I sneezing in my sleep or just when I’m awake?

When Bucky brought his gaze back up to his teammates, he noticed Natasha’s own eyes flick down to his phone. The slightest smirk curved the corner of her lips.

“It’s curious,” she said, a perfect eyebrow inched higher to her hairline. “All the people you text are in this room, yet, you haven’t been able to pull yourself away from your phone.” Her eye contact never wavered from Bucky’s face. “Don’t ya think that’s odd, fellas?”

“Natalia,” Bucky warned, his voice gruff. He knew she was fishing.

Sam laughed boisterously. “Yeah, I noticed that the other day. It’s glued to your hip nowadays.”

“It could be anyone from the team, guys,” Steve reasoned. “I bet it’s Tony.”

Bucky became increasingly agitated as the redhead slinked closer, passing his phone back and forth between his hands.

Natasha shook her head in the negative. “Nuh-uh,” she said, leaning against the counter directly beside Bucky. A hair’s breadth of space separated their shoulders from one another. Tipping back, with her elbows propped against the hard surface, she kicked her legs out casually and crossed her feet at the ankle. “Those two have barely said two words to each other since the good Sergeant here was welcomed back into the fold. It’s not Tony.”

“That still doesn’t prove anything,” Steve replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I bet it’s a girl,” Sam said in a sing-song voice. “But, where would Ice Man here meet a girl?”

Natasha smiled while looking at Sam as he stepped closer to the trio. “Let’s find out, shall we?” She nodded to Sam and, without batting an eye, lunged at Bucky.

She tapped the underside of the hand holding the phone, causing the device to flip up into the air.

Though he hadn’t seen the attack coming, Bucky’s reflexes were cat-like, and he easily caught the phone in his opposite hand.

Unfortunately, Natasha was just as quick and knocked the phone from his hand again. She effortlessly swatted it out of the air and into her hand. As Bucky clamored to retrieve the cell phone, she swung her arm behind her back and tossed it into the waiting hands of Sam.

By looking at Sam’s broad smile, Bucky knew he was having a field day at his expense. He pounced on his teammate, grappling for possession of the device. He wasn’t sorry for elbowing the other man harder than he ever would if they were sparring each other. He needed his fucking phone back!

Sam managed to flick the phone over his other shoulder in the process of Bucky grabbing ahold of Sam’s wrist and twisting the same arm behind his body. It clattered to the ground at Steve’s feet.

As everyone stared at the cell phone lying prone on the tile floor, Sam backed Bucky into the cabinets, trapping him with his body. “Let me go, Bird Brain!” Bucky huffed.

Steve bent to pick the phone up, holding it in his hand. Bucky could see the war playing within Steve’s blue eyes as he struggled against Sam. Steve was just as curious as the other two but didn’t want to betray his friend.

Natasha quickly snatched the device from Steve and started thumbing at the screen.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Steve protested.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you to put a passcode on your phone, Barnes?” Natasha tsked as she navigated to the messaging app.

Bucky knew the exact second she found what she was looking for because her eyes became comically wide. A feral, shit-eating grin crossed her mouth as she raised a brow again.

“Tell me about (Y/N).”

“What?” Steve questioned, crowding the red head. “Lemme see.”

Bucky felt his cheeks go aflame as Natasha angled the screen so Steve could see the message thread. They burned hotter as Steve looked up with his own shit-eating smirk.

“Well, well…” Sam piped up. “If your faces are anything to go by, Vanilla Ice’s still got game.” Bucky twisted his arm back further in retaliation causing Sam to grunt in discomfort.

Bucky watched as Natasha’s thumb skimmed along the screen to delve deeper into past messages. Her thumb stopped as she read a passage; her green eyes rapidly followed the lines of text.

“I always kinda figured you’d be into someone that would call you out on your BS. She sounds fun,” Natasha said as she continued to scroll.

“No one’s into anyone. We’re just friends,” Bucky murmured.

Steve’s head shot up to stare at his best friend, sorrow painting his features. He edged away from Natasha. “Does she know who you are?” he asked.

Bucky shook his head no. “And she never will.”

“Aww, but you guys sound so cute together,” Natasha pouted. Bucky frowned at the insinuation. It couldn’t ever happen.

“There aren’t any rules saying we can’t date,” Natasha mentioned. “Hell, you know how many times I tried to set up this big lug?” She motioned to Steve with her thumb.

“That’s different,” Bucky said after a few moments. He eased up slightly on Sam’s arm.

“How so?”

Bucky rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, the blush starting again. “He’s Captain America, and well, I’m not. Not exactly everyone’s favorite.” He downcast his eyes to the floor.

“Buck, you know that’s not true,” Steve said woefully. “It’ll just take some time.”

“I know, Stevie. Until then, though, I’m still a pariah.”

The super soldier serum couldn’t have been given to a better person, but Bucky always felt like he would be trapped in Steve’s shadow, no matter the amount of good he did. He would still feel weak for what Hydra did to him, or not good enough to be labeled Captain America’s best friend.

Feeling the room take a considerable turn toward somber, Natasha called out, “Holy shit, Barnes! You used Wilson’s toothbrush to clean your toilet?”

“What?!” all three male voices cried out.

Sam rushed forward, trying to see the proof for himself. “You’re a dead man!”

Freed from the weight of Sam’s body, Bucky leaped forward toward Natasha and Sam. Slamming into Sam’s back, he snaked an arm around the other man, reaching frantically for his phone. He was done with them spying on his non-existent personal life.

Bucky smacked against Sam’s hands and arms, trying to dislodge the device.

“Stop!” Sam bellowed. “You’re hitting me like an eleven-year-old girl!”

“Gimme back my phone!” Bucky shouted.

Suddenly, the sound of ringing filled the small space of the kitchen. The scuffling stopped in an instant as everyone tried to figure out where the noise was coming from. Sam glimpsed down at his hands and jumped apart from Bucky as if he’d been burned. He looked horrified!

“Oh, shit!” Sam exclaimed, shoving the phone back at Bucky.

“What did you do?!” Bucky screeched when he realized the ringing was coming from his phone on speaker.

The sound ended abruptly, only to be replaced with the gentle tinkle of a woman’s voice.

“James?”

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

Tag List:

@hommoturttle @courtneychicken @vidzbyemz @vicmc624​ @shawnie--jo​ @redbarn1995​ @learisa​ @austynparksandpizza @ddowii​ @comeasyoudar​ @notsoinnocentrebel @i-have-no-life-charlie @champagneacademiaproblems

Send an ask to be added to the tag list!

#drunk texting is(n't) bad for your health #dtibfyh #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

[melzula]

how about a fire liiies blurb about princess reader, zuko and iroh coming across azula after the invasion of the north?

a/n: the first half is so much longer than the second oh goodness but I hope you enjoy!

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

“Run away with me.”

“We’ll go wherever you’d like, it doesn’t matter as long as we’re together.”

“We’re going to be so happy together, y/n.”

“You’re going to be happy with me.”

The ocean breeze that flows through your loose locks of hair is a bittersweet reminder of the home you’d left behind three years ago today. The quiet island you’ve found to rest on is beautiful, but it’s hard to enjoy the peace and tranquility that surrounds you after having grown accustomed to living a life of constant action and chaos. It’s in the moments of stillness that your mind is able swirl with thoughts of guilt and doubt until you begin to feel nauseous and homesick. You love Zuko, and that seems to be the only thing you‘re ever one hundred percent sure of nowadays. The rest is fuzzy and uncertain, but you try not to let it get the best of you.

You’ve kept your distance from Zuko for most of the day, wanting to allow him the necessary amount of space and respect needed to lament over the anniversary of his banishment, but the invisible barrier that separates you both only seems to make things more depressing. You feel guilty for having such thoughts, but you can’t help the small bit of resentment that sits in your heart as you are reminded of the fact that you should be in Ba Sing Se right now instead of sulking on the dock. If you had known you’d be traveling fruitlessly in search of the Avatar, you might have rethought your decision just a bit more. You can’t say you regret your choice, however, because it got you out of an unwanted marriage and gave you an opportunity to grow as a bender, something you never would have gotten at home. Your mother used to say that things always had a funny way of working themselves out, and you had to hope that this piece of advice was true.

A quiet presence seats themself beside you, and you don’t have to look to know that it’s Zuko. There is no tension or awkwardness to the silence you sit in, but there is a bit of nervousness that radiates off of Zuko. He knows today is important to you just like it is to him, though for partly different reasons, and he wants you to feel understood and appreciated. Spirits know he hasn’t done a very good job of that lately.

“Do you like it here?” Zuko asks quietly.

“It’s beautiful,” you hum in response. “I’ve never been anywhere like it.”

“I’m glad,” he nods before opening his palm to you and revealing a beautiful cherry blossom. His cheeks are dusted with a light shade of pink as he clears his throat and gestures to your hair. “May I?”

A gentle smile graces your features at the offer and you nod, allowing Zuko to carefully tuck the flower into your hair. He’ll never be able to understand how someone as beautiful and precious as you could love someone so flawed like himself. What was it that kept you around even after all he put you through? He knew it wasn’t for money nor for a chance to climb your way to the top; you were a Princess who chose to throw everything away to live a simple life as peasants with him in Ba Sing Se. He knew you loved him, but so had his mother and she had still left him. You don’t know it, but Zuko fears the day you decide you’ve had enough and leave him behind.

“You’re beautiful,” Zuko admits with a small smile, and you happily rest your head upon his shoulder and look out at the crystal blue ocean before you. “Thank you for being here with me. I know it hasn’t been easy.”

“Things never are,” you note knowledgeably, “but I don’t mind it. Not when I’m with you.”

“I love you,” Zuko professes, and it occurs to him then that he hasn’t said so in a long while. Yet another fault you seem to ignore because you truly do care for him in a way that no one ever has.

“I love you too. And I truly do believe things are going to get better from here.”

“Let’s go inside,” Zuko says after a moment’s beat. “Uncle should be back from the beach by now.”

Rising from his seat on the dock, Zuko holds his hand out to you and helps you up from the ground before guiding you back up the hills and into your temporary shelter. Neither of you are sure how long you’ll be able to stay here, but with the beautiful cherry blossom trees and kind people who reside on the island, it isn’t exactly a bad place to live. Maybe you can get your fresh start here.

Iroh is there to greet when you return to your little refuge, a vast collection of seashells laid out to admire on the table.

“Look at these magnificent shells!” Iroh exclaimed, handing you a particularly pretty blue conch. “I’ll enjoy these keepsakes for years to come.”

“We don’t need anymore useless things,” Zuko reminds him exasperatedly. “You forget, we have to carry everything ourselves now.”

“Hello, brother,” a voice suddenly interrupts, starting the three of you. “Uncle... Princess.”

“Azula,” you gasp quietly, and Zuko is quick to push you behind him and shield you from his conniving sister.

“What are you doing here?” Zuko asks gruffly.

“In my country, we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions,” Azula sneers. “Has surrounding yourself with...” she pauses, eyes glancing towards you, “poor company made you become uncivilized so soon, Zuzu?”

“Don’t call me that!” He yells. “And don’t bring into her this.”

“I’ve come with a message from home,” she says casually. “Father regrets your banishment. He wants you home. Family are the only ones you can really trust.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the news, fingertips digging into Zuko’s bicep tightly in apprehension. Home? After all he put Zuko through he’s willing to let him back in just like that? Despite the news he says nothing, makes no move to react, and Azula finds his lack of response unnerving.

“Where’s my thank you?” Azula muses. “I’m not a messenger, I didn’t have to come all this way.”

You narrow your eyes slightly at the Princess when the words leave her mouth; yes, she didn’t have to come all this way, and knowing Azula she wouldn’t have for something so small and unworthy of her time. Why not send a messenger hawk or a soldier or anyone of lesser importance to retrieve Zuko and Iroh? Why send Azula? This whole thing isn’t sitting right with you, and your watchful gaze never leaves her even as she excuses herself for the evening and allows Zuko to mull over the news on his own.

“Father wants me home,” he murmurs quietly, and you and Iroh both exchange uneasy glances with each other.

“I’m going to find some dinner for the night,” you announce, but Zuko doesn’t even seem to hear you or notice your departure. There’s much to think about, and you’d like to do so alone.

The cherry blossoms aren’t as pretty as they had been in the morning, now seeming to loom over you tauntingly with the uncertainty of the future. Even if this wasn’t some sort of trick, you doubt you’d be welcomed with the same warmth Iroh and Zuko would be given. You were an outsider, a water bender, a threat, and a distraction to the Prince. You simply couldn’t see yourself living a life amongst the very same people who threaten the ways of your tribe. It would be wrong, and if you felt guilty now you’d feel utterly awful then. You love Zuko, but you aren’t about to willingly follow him and his sister back to the Fire Nation. After everything you’ve been through, this could be the end of your journey together.

“I have to say, I’m surprised you’ve stuck around for this long,” Azula notes offhandedly as you pick through the fresh fruit of the local market.

“You know how much your brother means to me,” you reply calmly, refusing to let her play her little games with you. “But I know you don’t approve of me, and I know you’ll be happy to hear that I won’t be coming with him.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m going back to the Southern Water Tribe, and I’d appreciate it if you could take me there on your ship. I won’t be in your way and I’ll keep to myself, but if not I can find my own way.”

“Oh, I’d be happy to take you,” Azula replies with a glint in her eye. “After all, as Princesses we have to look out for each other.”

“I suppose that’s true,” you murmur, attempting to pay for your groceries only to have Azula wave you off and do so herself.

“I want you to enjoy your last meal with my brother,” she says with a snide smile. “Once he’s back home I’m sure ZuZu will forget all about you.”

“If that’s what you do want to believe,” you reply emotionlessly before turning to venture back home. You stop in your tracks as Azula calls after you, voice lilting with each syllable.

“You’re not the only girl who has her heart set on being with Zuko,” Azula informs you smugly. “My friend Mai has had her sights on him ever since we were children, and as the daughter of a very power politician I’m sure she’d have no trouble winning him over.”

Your shoulders tense slightly at the information but you don’t give Azula the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of you. Instead, you keep your gaze set straight ahead and let out a small breath of air.

“Thank you for the groceries, Azula,” you reply, then continue on your way home.

Dinner is a silent affair as you quietly pick at your noodles, and it’s only until Iroh leaves the two of you alone that Zuko speaks up.

“You’re upset about something.”

“No I’m not.”

“Your nose gets twitchy whenever you’re upset or troubled,” Zuko points out, and it’s times like these where you wish he didn’t know you as well as he did.

“I won’t be going with you,” you say after letting out a sigh.

“What are you talking about?” He replies with a furrowed bro.

“I know you’re going back home, and I’m not going to stop you from doing so. But I can’t go with you. I’m returning back to the Southern Water Tribe.”

“You can’t do that!” Zuko argues. “What about us?”

“There’s still the secret tunnel,” you remind him, “we can still see each other. I just think this is what’s best for us.”

“I thought you’d want to come with me,” Zuko murmurs dejectedly. “Don’t you want to stay with me?”

“I do. I really do. But do you honestly think I’d be welcomed in the Fire Nation?”

Zuko’s silence is enough of an answer for you to finalize your decision, and with a small sigh you rise from your seat at the table and collect the leftover dishes from dinner.

“I’ll come with you on the ship, but I want to be taken back home.”

Defeated, Zuko watches with a forlorn face as you walk out of the room to wash the dishes. It seems your journey together is coming to an end, and the uncertainty of what lies ahead troubles him greatly. He wants to return home, but he also wants to keep you by his side. What is he to do?

~~~

“We’re taking the prisoners home.”

You knew it was all just a dirty little trick; Azula was capable of anything, even turning in her own brother. It looks like you won’t be returning home any time soon, and neither will Zuko.

You fight off the Fire Nation soldiers alongside Iroh while Zuko handles his sister, using the vast ocean around you to your advantage as you topple men left to right. Thanks to Iroh you’re familiar with their movements and understand their approach, thus making it easier for you block and avoid their attacks before retaliating with your own.

With a final wave of water that washes them off the dock, the three of you are quick to run off as far as you can until your legs are too tired to carry on any further. You stop by a nearby stream, and only once you’re sure you’re safe do you stop to take a breath.

Zuko stares out at the water with a solemn expression on his features, and you watch in quiet admiration as both he and Iroh cut off their top knots. You know what this means, and you know how important and symbolic the action is to them both. Their ties with the Fire Nation have been severed, and there’s no going back now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer lamely, but Zuko still takes your hand in his own and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“You shouldn’t be,” is all he says, and you watch quietly as his severed hair floats along the river.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox |

#zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #zuko and the princess #azula #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla x reader #fire lilies #forbidden lovers au #request

[riversongg]

Here With Me

Summary: What if Dean had never died? What if Eileen had come back? What if Sam and Dean had been allowed to visit their loved ones and grieve the ones they lost? What if they had saved Cas from the empty? What if they got to live their happily ever after? Chapter 1: exile Word Count: 1757 Read on AO3

The first day after Chuck is defeated is a good one. They’re free. They’re finally free. For the first time in years Sam feels like he can finally breathe. That first day they take some time for themselves. They sleep. A lot. They eat, drink some beer. They go for a drive and feel the breeze on their skin. Sam cries a bit too, the tears of relief escaping after holding in so much tension for so long. There had always been one thing after another. Another problem, another monster, another evil deity trying to take over the world.

So yes, for that first day, they exist and do nothing else.

On the second day they have work to do. First, Sam calls Eileen. They’d texted a whole bunch already, Sam ecstatic beyond belief that she was back, but she understood that he needed time, time to realise that everything was okay, that this new reality wasn’t going to be ripped from under him, before reaching out. But one day without seeing each other is more than enough time before they are talking face to face, Sam breaking down in sobs at only eight in the morning. She’s back.

The air feels cleaner, the weight on Sam’s shoulders lightened. It’s even easier to breathe than before. He longs to reach out and hold her in his arms, but there will be time for that. They have all the time in the world.

Day three finds them on the road. Dean driving, windows down, head rocking to the Zeppelin he has turned right the way up. Sam’s knee keeps bouncing with anticipation. Dean tells him to “Cut it out, man” a few teams before he gives up, allowing Sam this moment of excitement.

They pull over for gas around noon and that’s when Dean finds the dog. Miracle, he had called him back before the end of Chuck. Sam remembers seeing the dog when Jack brought everyone back, but seeing him again, for the third time in only a few days, it’s evident to the brothers that this dog is meant to be theirs. Miracle sits between the two of them, peering through the front window of the Impala, tongue lolling out of his mouth as they draw nearer to Eileen’s.

When Sam and Eileen reunite, Dean and Miracle wait in the car. There’s a lot of crying as Sam scoops her into his arms, lifting her up and squeezing tight. He takes in her scent, never wanting to forget the way it feels when she is with him. There’s lots of kissing too, but mostly they’re just happy to hold each other.

The weight lifts a little more, every moment he’s with her he’s a little more free.

They arrive at Jody’s the next day. As the three of them, and Miracle, pull up to the house they are greeted with love and warmth. Sam’s heart swells seeing his family alive and well. Claire has her arm around Kaia’s shoulders, Kaia giving them a little wave as they get out of the car. Patience and Alex give them bright smiles and Jody runs up to hug the two of them. When she gets to Dean Sam sees not only that she squeezes extra tight, but Dean holds onto her for a little longer too, almost reluctant to leave the hug. Donna is there too and she’s the first one to hug Eileen. She speaks to her in the little sign language she knows and Sam notices Eileen light up, her whole body becoming a little less tense.

As they make their way inside, Dean lingers behind. Sam turns to call him in but notices the sadness in his smile. Sam tells Eileen and the rest of the girls to go on in without them. Eileen smiles, understanding.

Sam goes back to his brother at the curb, patting Dean’s shoulder.

“They should be here, man,” his brother tells him, his voice quiet and tight. Sam sighs. He still doesn’t know what happened when the Empty took Cas; Dean won’t talk about that day. As for Jack? Sam knows he’s okay, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less that he will never be able to hug the kid again, never again hear his laugh or see his face light up in a smile.

“I miss them.” And that’s all there is. There’s peace, and there’s pain, and there’s a part of Sam’s family that will always be gone, but he knows more than anyone that there’s always a way to move on and be content, knowing that the pain will always be there, but one day it won’t feel so big.

They stay like that for a few moments, thinking about the ones they lost, before Sam makes his way into the house, ready to exist in the joy and laughter these wonderful women have to offer.

At some point Claire disappears, and she shows up a few hours later with an exhausted looking Dean. Cas may have been Sam’s best friend, but Claire and Dean had a connection to Cas like no one else. It was good that they talked, Sam thought. Maybe it would help them both say goodbye, knowing that they’re not so alone in their grief.

They stay at Jody’s for two days before they decide to head home to the bunker. Of course, they take a couple of detours, visiting Charlie and Garth and a few other hunter connections on the way. It’s nice spending time with their friends without the constant threat of danger around every corner. Having fun should not be a novelty, but going to the park with Garth’s kids, playing arcade games with Charlie, these are the things Sam has been missing, the things he didn’t know that he needed.

When they get back to the bunker, things go back to normal. Well, as normal as can be. Eileen stays with them for a while, her and Sam spending lots of time in his room. Dean takes Miracle on lots of walks and one day even takes Sam to a nearby lake that he likes. It has become a new favourite spot for the two of them, Dean often spending hours near the water, Miracle by his side.

Two weeks in, Dean starts eating less. It takes Sam another week to notice. Eileen has moved home by this point, though they video chat every day. Sam plans on visiting her in a week or so, but one day he notices that Miracle is asking for his daily walk and Dean is nowhere to be seen. Sam finds him in the garage, passed out in the front of the Impala, an empty bottle of whisky at his side.

He carries Dean to his bed that night, his brother too drunk to wake up as Sam hastily pulls him out of the car and into his arms, bridal style. He knows Dean would knock him senseless if he knew, but Sam didn’t care. They never talk about it. Dean wakes up the next morning, chugs a bottle of aspirin thinking Sam wouldn’t notice and gets on with his day.

A slice of toast.

A walk around the lake with Miracle.

A beer before lunch.

Not actually eating lunch and heading straight into research looking for a case.

Not finding anything.

Another bottle of whisky.

Another night in the Impala.

Sam knows then that he can’t leave Dean. He starts cooking, like, really cooking. Dean has always been the one with the culinary skills, so it takes Sam a few attempts to actually make a half decent burger, but day by day he pushes a sandwich, a salad, a bowl of cereal towards Dean and doesn’t leave him alone until his plate is completely empty.

Six weeks after Chuck, Dean stops speaking. He stops walking Miracle, stops watching movies. He eats because Sam forces him, drinks because he wants to. He does research, for what Sam doesn’t know, and sits and stares as though waiting for something to appear. Sam realises now that he had been foolish to believe that everything would be okay. Life is never that simple for the Winchesters.

Eileen decides to visit one weekend after Sam explains that he’s worried about leaving Dean alone. They’re just coming in from a date, Sam heading to the kitchen to get them some drinks when he hears it. Crying. No, sobbing. Huge, gut-wrenching sobs that ricochet throughout the bunker. Sam freezes. He has never, never, heard Dean cry like this. This is something so raw that Sam feels like he’s intruding. This isn’t something anyone should ever have to endure.

He knew Dean was not okay, but this? Sam could never have imagined to hear something like this coming from his brother, broken or not.

He makes a decision on instinct, and rushes down the hallway towards Dean’s room. The door is open and he sees Dean rocking back and forth on his bed, a pillow held tight to his face. For a second Sam thinks the crying has stopped, but then Dean lets out an abominable scream, the hair on Sam’s arms standing alert.

Sam has experience Hell and then some, but this is the worst thing he has ever heard.

He rushes forwards and reaches towards Dean. Dean jumps at Sam’s touch and starts to pull away when he realises he has been caught, but Sam climbs onto the bed behind him and pulls him tight.

“Shh,” Sam says, arms around his brother, Dean burying his face into Sam’s chest. “Let it out, Dean. Let it out.” And he does. Sam doesn’t know how long they sit there but soon Dean’s sobbing settles into steady tears and Eileen appears at Dean’s doorway, not wanting to invade.

“Whatever it is Dean, we will fix it. We will find you some help.” He strokes Dean’s back to the rhythm of his breathing, keeping him calm.

“This is the one thing that can’t be fixed,” Dean mumbles into Sam so quietly Sam barely heard him.

“What is, Dean?” he asks softly. “What can’t be fixed?”

“He’s gone,” Dean says, his voice breaking. “Cas is gone and he’s never coming back.” Dean takes in a shaky breath and holds it. Sam is afraid of what might happen when he lets it out.

It’s there, in Dean’s room, his big brother helpless in arms, the love of his life at the door that he decides it: one way or another, he’s getting Castiel back.

Read on AO3

#my writing #wizardinpyjamas #mine #deancas #destiel #fic #destiel fic #15x19 #15x19 coda #fix it fic #fix it #finale fix it #kind of #destiel fanfic #destiel fan fic #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #fic; here with me

[olivinesea]

Play it Right

a/n: I’m back! We’re in the single digit countdown to the end of this godforsaken school year aghhhh. So excited I can’t even tell you. Here’s some Hotch being sad but trying to be a good dad. ~3.3k

Hotch & Sean take Jack out for his birthday.

Memories of childhood were hard to come by, often only wisps of faded colors that he couldn’t completely resolve into images. There were light drenched afternoons with disembodied fingers pulling up blades of grass. Other partial scenes where dirt stained knees crawled into dark spaces where the world was cool and damp, following a trail of ants as they slowly dismantled some lifeless form. There was the sickened twist of fascination that accompanied the discovery, watching the way it was transformed from something into nothing with only the help of a few thousand tiny insects. Individually inconsequential in size, collectively a force of nature unstoppable as they reduced the abandoned shell into a small drift of feathers. The pale structure stirred and blown away easily by the air displaced when he reached down to take a single one. He dreamed about the ants coming to him, taking him away piece by piece until there was nothing left but traces of bone dust, dispersed by a midnight breeze. For any other child this would have been a nightmare but to him it was a promise. A promise of order and structure, an indication that time did in fact move forward and wasn’t trapped within stagnated pools hiding in the dim recesses of closets. That it wasn’t a continuous loop of threats and tears, of lies worn so smooth they slipped out of mouths unaware. It won’t happen again. He loves you. I love you.

It was far better to let his memories of childhood be lost. Easy enough to do with no one else who had been present at the time around to reinforce them with retelling. No one else to share with over a drink, bouncing stories back and forth, refreshing the dilapidated structures with a new coat of detail. As he let them dissolve they became defanged, passive enough to believe they were not even about him but possibly a story he’d once read and allowed to mingle with his reality. He had always been told he had a vivid imagination, maybe he could allow that to be true retroactively. It didn’t matter anymore anyway. He was still here and none of them were.

Except Sean.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose impatiently. They’d been waiting for Sean for at least half an hour. His brother, never punctual, was cutting it close once again. They were supposed to be taking Jack to the Mets game. Originally conceived by Sean, the idea was floated as a birthday gift for Jack’s tenth birthday—double digits, a big deal for any kid. Somehow this “gift” had become something Hotch had organized entirely, buying the tickets, getting Jack and himself to New York, filling in the rest of the weekend with kid-friendly activities. He’d made it so easy for Sean, all he had to do was show up and he wasn’t even getting that part right. He glanced at his watch again, resisting the urge to double check the time printed on the tickets. It was a baseball game, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if they missed the beginning.

He looked at Jack, sitting on the bench, fiddling with the laces of his glove. The glove was a hand-me-down of sorts. He had found it while helping clean out their parents’ house after their mother passed away. Sean swore it wasn’t his but it couldn’t be Hotch’s either, it was for someone right-handed. Plus, he couldn’t pull up any memories connected to it. He’d never been a team sport kind of kid. Too silent, too reserved to fit in with the loud boys who jostled each other playfully and banded together with unnecessary vitriol for the opposing teams. Hotch never understood team rivalries. Of all the many sources of hatred he’d learned, going to a different school didn’t make the list. It didn’t make any sense to create tension, to whip up emotions that had no basis. He knew enough of hate not to go looking for it where it didn’t need to exist.

Rather than argue with Sean about it, he’d taken the glove home and held on to it until Jack was big enough to use it. He wasn’t exactly sure why but he made up a story for it, weaving a collection of happy moments to accompany the time-softened leather. He told Jack the stories he felt he should have had, the kinds of stories fathers should tell their sons. He hadn’t bothered to do this when Jack was younger, hadn’t worried about his son’s perception of the past. But as Jack got older, as life took more and more away from him before he’d even had a chance to be aware of what he had, Hotch felt the need to give him pieces of a family history. He felt they should be stories that would make him feel normal, if that were at all possible with a life like this. Like he was any other kid with parents who were once kids themselves, chasing the same simple joys. He thought it might be comforting, I’ve known happiness and so can you.

Hotch would do anything to make Jack happy and even though it often made him crazy, this meant including Sean in their lives. His relationship with Sean had always been tense. There were several years after Haley’s death, after his absence in the aftermath, when things were beyond strained. Hotch, once he had surfaced enough to feel things, had burned with a white hot anger, tempting him to sever their tie permanently. It was an anger he didn’t trust himself with, strong enough to break through his control without a second’s notice. So he didn’t call, didn’t make the effort he knew was required to pull his brother back into his orbit. He never spoke of it of course but Jessica noticed. She heard Jack asking about his uncle, saw the muscle in Hotch’s jaw jump as he ground his teeth together to keep from saying something he shouldn’t. When she felt enough time had passed, she started to push him in little ways to reach out, to reconnect.

So he’d ended up here, once again, waiting for Sean, unsure if he’d even manage to remember his nephew’s birthday. Hotch was internally cursing his younger brother and considering leaving on the next train with or without him when the younger man appeared. He looked a little disheveled, hair sticking up in odd places, the shirt under his leather jacket not altogether clean. But he was smiling and calling their names, sweeping first Jack and then Hotch into a hug, almost certainly intending to irritate his brother with the uninvited contact. Hotch could smell the beer on his breath and gave him a sharp look. Sean shrugged it off and turned his attention to Jack.

“Alright kid, are you ready for this?” he ruffled the boy’s sandy blond hair as he asked. Jack grinned up at him, nodding his head a little too vigorously. Sean never failed to charm.

Hotch frowned at them. “Come on, let’s get going. We’re cutting it a little close.”

Sean scoffed and made a face at Jack, mimicking Hotch’s serious features, only to stick his tongue out and make Jack giggle. “Relax, it’ll be fine.” He punched Hotch’s shoulder, earning another glare, but they all started walking toward the platform. Hotch followed just half a step behind, keeping a close eye on Jack in the thickening crowd. He watched Sean weave confidently through people, happily becoming the lead adventurer. Hotch, who had regretted this from the moment he’d agreed, felt his stomach twisting on itself, anticipating what kind of unnecessary chaos Sean would lead them into today.

They made it to the ballpark without too much difficulty. With some shuffling, they arranged themselves in the hard stadium seats, Jack between the two men. This checked two boxes for Hotch—in the middle Jack was both protected and protecting him from being too close to his brother. If Sean had been a little tipsy when he’d shown up he could now be considered fully inebriated. He hadn’t stopped drinking beer since they got there. Hotch, already on edge, was exasperated by this behavior. However, his pointed glares got him nothing but a grin and a lifted glass waved in his direction.

Jack didn’t notice, just happy to see his Uncle Sean who was always so fun and wild. He was the only family of his dad’s that he had ever met so there was something extra special about this man, so different from his dad but somehow his nearest relative. Jack was chattering to him about kid things, filling Sean in on all the art projects and field trips and other critical moments of his life. He proudly showed off the glove, talking about how his dad told him of Sean’s skill as a baseball player and how he said he used to go watch his games and cheer him on.

Sean almost spit out beer he laughed so hard at this information. “You’re kidding. Is that the kind of BS your dad is feeding you?” He looked over at Hotch, who might have been trying to literally kill him with the look he was directing his way. “That damn glove was never mine and you know it Aaron.”

Unrelenting in his disapproval, Hotch shrugged slightly, “Maybe I have some of the details mixed up.”

“Details?” He looked back at Jack, “That glove was your dad’s and for some stupid reason he tried to throw it away one day and your grandpa kicked the shit out of him for it.”

“Sean!”

“What?” Sean was an expert at faking innocence. Jack was wide eyed, looking between the two adults, not understanding what was happening.

“Can I speak with you?” Hotch’s words were clipped, gritting them out between clenched teeth.

“Oooh Agent Hotchner, yessir,” Sean sat up straight, faking a snap to attention but the effect was lost as he swayed slightly. Hotch pressed lips together and grabbed Sean by the jacket shoulder, pulling him to his feet and pushing him out into the aisle.

“What are you thinking? Why would you say something like that?” Hotch tried not to raise his voice but he was barely succeeding.

“You think it’s better for him to believe in some bullshit you made up?” Sean spat back at him.

“Why not? I’m protecting him. He’s lived through enough, he deserves to have some happy stories.”

“So you lie to him,” Sean said, voice flat.

“It’s not lying.”

Sean wasn’t playing anymore, he was angry, every bit as angry as Hotch. His face was flushed from alcohol and emotion. He looked directly at Hotch, making sure his words sank in. “It is lying, just like you lied to me.”

“I never lied to you,” Hotch protested but the words barely made it out of his mouth.

Sean laughed meanly. “You lied to me every fucking day in that house Aaron. I saw everything, heard everything only for you to turn around and tell me it was all fine, that our dad was a good man.” He paused for a moment, looking down at his clenched fists. “I thought I was fucking crazy.”

“I just wanted to protect you.”

“Bullshit. You were being selfish, just like you are now. You think you can just change the facts and no one will know, that it won’t affect anyone else. I have bad news for you: we don’t all just exist in this world you made up in your head. Jack is a real person, I am a real person. Refusing to admit what was happening didn’t make it any less real, it just meant that I was alone with it. Just a little kid alone trying to understand why someone who was supposed to take care of me would hurt my brother and why, why my brother would lie about it. Did you think I was stupid?”

Hotch didn’t know how to respond, stunned by the bitterness of Sean’s words.

“I’m not going to sit around while you lie to someone else about our shitty father. What’s even the point of protecting him anymore?”

Hotch frowned, “I wanted you to have a normal life, a normal relationship with him. He liked you. I thought if I could keep that side of him away, you could have the kind of father I saw other kids have. I thought I could give you that.”

“You’re an arrogant bastard. Always have been.”

“Please, Sean,” he tried to find more words, some way to make Sean understand. He’d only ever wanted to keep him safe.  

“I won’t lie about this Aaron and you shouldn’t either, Jack’s going to learn everything someday, whether you like it or not. Do you want him to be able to come to you? Or do you want him to be afraid, afraid he can’t trust you to tell him the truth?”

Hotch hung his head. “I’m sorry Sean. I didn’t realize—”

Sean cut him off, “I’m done with this.” Clumsily he pulled something out of his pocket. “Here, give this to Jack, tell him I said happy birthday.”

Hotch wanted to ask him to stay but he’d already turned, walking up the stairs, grabbing the railing every once in a while to correct his balance. Hotch looked at the coin in his hand, a Kennedy half-dollar, remembered giving it to Sean on his tenth birthday. It was the same coin his father had given him when he turned 10, just before Sean was born. He remembered the time of his mother’s pregnancy as being particularly bad. His father had been careful with her, solicitous even, trying to ensure that this baby, this wanted baby, would make it safely into the world. But his temper hadn’t gone anywhere, he simply focused it all on Aaron. He'd had to miss a lot of school that fall.

But then, for no reason discernible to him, his father’s mood had shifted a couple months before the baby was due. He started coming home early, bringing gifts for both of them. Some were even wrapped (by the shop clerk no doubt, but wrapped). The glove had been one of these gifts. It hadn’t fit him right but he had said thank you and hoped he could keep this version of his dad around as long as possible. It lasted until Sean was about six months old. The first night his dad came home drunk and angry, yelling at his mom who just stood there holding Sean, too petrified to move away. Seeing that, the frailty and futility in his mother’s stance, he knew that he had to get in between them. He knew then he would do anything he could to protect his baby brother. Sean was the most perfect thing he had ever seen and he intended to keep it that way. He’d done what he could but all he really knew how to do was lie. It was all he’d ever been taught.

The glove became a nightmare that repeatedly came back to haunt him. His dad would go through fits of wanting to be a “normal family.” He would drag them out to the lake for picnics, would insist Aaron play catch with him in the yard. But he was never coordinated enough and it would always end with his dad frustrated and cursing him. When he was thirteen he started to experience overwhelming fits of anger. They came on suddenly, could be set off by anything. His vision would blur and he would feel a desperate need to lash out against the brutally indifferent world around him. During one of these fits, he threw the glove in the garbage, sick of being humiliated by it. Then, the emotion gone as quickly as it appeared, he promptly forgot about it.

Unfortunately, being an angry adolescent did not lead to the smartest decisions. His father found it in the trash and immediately went looking for his ungrateful son. He’d found him with Sean building tiny forts out of sticks in the back yard. Aaron hadn’t even had a chance to remember that he’d thrown the thing away before it was being used to leave marks on his exposed skin. Hotch wondered that Sean could even remember it, he had been so young. He wondered, too, how he could have forgotten, the sting of his failure to protect his brother from that knowledge making itself clearly felt now.

The coin, however, had been a treasured gift, inspiring him to begin a collection that he hid carefully in the back of a drawer. Something he could pull out and remind himself that there had been good moments. That he hadn’t just imagined them. Looking at his coins offered rare moments of peace in the continuous turbulence of the Hotchner household. When he was twenty and Sean only ten, Aaron had felt guilty for not being around as much. The kid had recently lost his father and was living with a quickly deteriorating mother. So he gave Sean the original half-dollar, hoping that his little brother would be able to find the same comfort in it, maybe even develop his own interest in the hobby. Unsurprisingly, coin collecting never caught on with Sean. He was too loud, too rough to spend hours inside, inspecting tiny characters and noticing slight variations in markings. Hotch had assumed Sean had lost the coin years ago, had even felt a little sad thinking about it being lost. Sean was many things but he never failed to surprise Hotch. He shook his head, clearing the lingering thoughts, needing to focus on what he was going to say to Jack. He turned to walk back to their seats.

Jack watched his approach over his shoulder, “Where’s Uncle Sean?”

“He wasn’t feeling well, he said to wish you happy birthday.”

“You made him leave,” Jack’s small face was contorted into an accusing scowl.

Hotch shook his head, ready to commit to this stretching of the truth but he stopped himself. “He was upset,” he started then paused. He really didn’t want to explain this story.

“Why?”

Hotch rubbed the coin with his thumb, “Well, he didn’t like the story I told you about the glove.”

“Why not?”

“It isn’t the truth and he thought that it was wrong of me to lie.”

Jack was quiet, thinking about this. Hotch waited patiently for him to process. “What’s the true story?”

He hesitated, “It’s not a very nice story Jack.”

“But it’s the truth?”

Hotch nodded, the muscles around his lungs constricting too tightly to speak. Jack looked too serious for a ten year old. “Then that’s the story I want to hear.”

A mix of emotion spread through him, partly anger at Sean for forcing his hand, but also pride in his son’s strength. He sighed, “And I’ll tell you, but not today ok buddy? Today is about you and about good memories.”

“Ok Dad but you have to promise.”

Hotch smiled, “I promise. Here, Uncle Sean wanted me to give you this, it’s your birthday gift.”

Jack took the offered object and looked closely, trying to figure out what it was. The metal was aged making the words hard to read through the patina. “It’s…old?”

Hotch laughed. “It is very old, you’re right.”

“What is it?”

“Well, do you want to hear the story of where it came from?”

“Only if it’s true,” Jack replied, a little smile revealing that he was teasing his dad. When had he gotten so mature?

“Of course, nothing but from now on,” Hotch held up his hand in mock solemnity. Without warning, Jack leaned over and wrapped his small arms as far as they would go around Hotch, pressing his face into his chest. Hotch hugged him back, thankful that despite everything, every stupid mistake and unforgivable failure, he had managed to get this one thing right.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #sean hotchner #jack hotchner

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 54]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22

It’s a cleaning day and then maybe an editing day later for what I wrote last night, so we might be doing this for a while (assuming nothing gets in my way.)

Chapter 23

Logan was unsurprised that after showing Virgil the large courtyard, Patton almost immediately decided to instigate a game of tag. They were, after all, here with the goal of getting Virgil a bit active after having had him only in Logan’s room for weeks.

He was also unsurprised that Virgil seemed confused about the concept of tag, and Patton had to explain the game in detail to him.

It made him wince, but he still was unsurprised when Virgil went about inquiring after the consequences of losing the game.

He was, however, very surprised when, after getting all of the facts about tag settle, Patton was chasing after Virgil trying to tag him and suddenly the boy disappeared.

 Patton almost ran into a wall in his confusion. He stared at his hands stretched out and just a couple of inches from touching the wall for a moment, before slowly looking up.

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed. “What?”

“What?” he asked.

“…What are you even hanging onto?”

“The wall,” Virgil replied.

Logan walked closer to the two of them and tilted his head up to look at him. Virgil had jumped up and somehow managed to find hand and foot holes on the seemingly smooth wall. He climbed about 5 meters above their heads and was peering down at them curiously.

 “Okay,” Logan said. “New rule. Virgil is not allowed to scale walls during tag.”

Virgil frowned down at him. “Why only me?”

“Because Patton and I cannot do that anyway,” Logan said. “We would not be able to actually play if you remain up there.”

Patton glanced over at him and reached over to touch Logan’s shoulder. “No tag backs,” he said. Logan glared at him. “Why don’t you come down sweetie?”

“But Logan will tag me,” he said.

“Well, honey, that’s part of the fun,” Patton reasoned. “Don’t you want to try being it?”

Virgil seemed to consider this for a long moment. “Okay,” he agreed.

 To Logan’s terror, he simply let go of the wall, falling straight down and landing crouched. He blinked at Logan. Right. With a start, Patton took off, so he’d have a head start. “No tag backs means a 10 second head start for me,” Logan reminded. Virgil nodded, and Logan reached out to poke him in the arm before immediately running off in the opposite direction as Patton.

Logan’s strategy worked out since, knowing he couldn’t go after Logan for a few seconds more, he chose to turn and go after Patton. After finding one of the statues to hide behind on the edge of the courtyard, Logan risked glancing back.

 Virgil was faster than Logan (and likely Patton) had accounted for. Patton had gotten a good head start on him, but Virgil closed it quickly. Patton shrieked as Virgil barreled into him, bringing them both to the ground.

“Virgil!” Logan heard Patton giggle. Logan figured he was more than okay despite the tackle. “This isn’t how you play tag!”

“I combined tag and tackle hugs,” Virgil declared, making Patton giggle more.

“That’s very innovative, honey,” Patton said. “Now are you going to let me up?...Virgil… I’m counting down your 10 second head start in my head, and if you don’t let me up I’m going to tag you again.”

 This did not seem to have the intended effect as Virgil did not remove himself from Patton’s person. Patton laugh when it became clear he was not going to move and began counting down “7, 6, 5, 4, you’d better let me go sweetie, or you’re going to get tagged again.” Virgil did not seem to care. “3, 2, 1.” Patton reached up and bopped him on the nose. “Tag!” he declared.

Logan was surprised when Virgil instantly jumped off Patton at that. He whipped around.

‘Oh,’ Logan thought as the boy’s eyes narrowed in on Logan immediately, ‘I see.’

 “Virgil was already halfway across the courtyard towards him before Logan could even think about running away. There was no way that he was fast enough to outrun him. Perhaps he could outthink him, he thought. His eyes scanned his environment in the seconds he had left and landed on a large square piece of stone that held flowers in the spring. It was just full of dirt now, but it was still about waist high. Perhaps if he kept that between them, he could outmaneuver him. He sprinted towards it and scrambled to the opposite side from where Virgil was heading.

 He really should not have been as surprised as he was that Virgil did not even slightly slow as he approached the planter box, instead grabbing ahold of the side of it and vaulting over it. Logan stumbled back, bracing for impact, but instead he just got a quick tap on the shoulder.

Logan blinked at him.

“I don’t know if you would be okay with tackle hugs,” he explained.

Logan considered him. “I would be okay with a nontackle hug.”

Virgil happily jumped forward to hug Logan, pressing his nose into Logan’s shoulder. Logan chuckled and patted the top of his head. “Six,” he said, “5, 4, 3…”

 Virgil bolted away suddenly, actually making Logan stumble a bit. He paused just out of reach of Logan, looking at him with anticipation. “2,1,” Logan finished with a raised eyebrow. He already knew he was being played with, but he indulged him by starting towards him. Virgil danced out of the way, eyes alight. Logan sighed. “Is this truly how it’s going to be?” he asked.

Virgil didn’t answer, but to watch him with wide, excited eyes.

“Fine,” Logan said. He dashed towards him again, only to have him continue to maneuver just out of Logan’s reach each time Logan went forward. He’d call it taunting if there was any sign of malice in it.

 They ran around the courtyard in spirts of Logan charging at him and Virgil expertly dodging. Eventually Patton came closer to them. Logan could tell that Virgil was aware of his presence, by how he glanced back at him briefly, but considering he was not ‘it,’ it seemed he chose to disregard him. However, he was not aware of the way Patton winked at Logan as he walked up behind Virgil.

Logan, on the other hand, knew exactly what was happening. He went to spring for Virgil again, and Virgil again moved to dodge, but this time Patton grabbed him around the waist, allowing Logan to actually tag him.

 He turned slowly to face Patton who started to giggle immediately at the perplexed look on his face. It cleared into something else as soon as he heard Patton laugh. “Traitor!” he claimed. “We were on the same team and you betrayed me.”

“I just thought we should probably have mercy on poor Logan,” Patton replied.

“Hmm,” Virgil said, eyes again full of that playful mischief Logan had not seen until today. “Plea for mercy not accepted.”

Patton once again half-shrieked half-laughed as he was pounced on. The two of them went rolling across the grass, Virgil clearly keeping the rolling going longer than it should have as they made it a good few meters.

 Virgil sprung off of him a few moments later.

“Oh, is it my turn?” Patton inquired with a huge smile. He slowly got to his feet. “Hmm, I’m probably at about 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” He took off after Virgil, but Patton had a bit more endurance than Logan, so instead of doing quickly calculated lunges at Virgil as Logan had done, he just ran at him full tilt without stopping.

Virgil ran from him, though Logan was pretty sure he was intentionally slowing himself down a bit so Patton had some amount of a chance. He kept turning to check behind him and make sure Patton was still somewhat close as he ran.

Which is why he didn’t see the imminent disaster in time.

  Chapter 24

Thomas should have been paying more attention, but his mind had been on the meeting he’d just had with the castle guards about increased security in the wake of the possible threat from Mocnejsi. He’d decided to take a brief walk around the courtyard to clear his head but was still distracted with mulling over the options that had just been presented to him. He stepped into the castle courtyard and did not have time to step out of the way of the much smaller body rocketing towards him. Virgil slammed into his front, but not before Thomas got a good look at his face.

 Virgil’s expression changed dramatically in the few seconds between him registering Thomas was there and running into him. For the briefest moment, Thomas could see that he must have been having a lot of fun. He’d caught the wide smile and sparkling eyes as Virgil turned his head back from looking at Patton who was chasing him across the greenery. He’d looked very happy which made it all the more painful to see that happiness die in and a few instants. When his head had turned back towards Thomas, there was a flicker of confusion at something being in his path.

 Then, clearly everything about the situation registered, because his eyes blew wide in horror as he tried to stop himself, but there was no way he’d be able to in time. Thomas saw that fact register on his face the moment before he hit. Gone was any trace of happiness or joy in that split second. All that was left was dread that had no place anywhere near a children’s game of tag. It was the expression Thomas would expect from someone who felt ice give way under their feet in the middle of a lake they had thought was frozen solid.

 He hit hard, but he wasn’t nearly big enough to actually harm Thomas. Thomas was thrown slightly off balance but managed to stay on his feet. He reached out a hand to his shoulder automatically to steady the child. There was a moment of pseudo calm where they both absorbed the impact and stilled.

Then, the boy’s shoulder slipped out of Thomas’s grip as he went crashing to the ground in a move that made Thomas wince for the state of his knees. Thomas couldn’t quite grasp what was happening for a moment as Virgil face planted onto the ground in front of him, but when he did, Thomas couldn’t help but flinch and take a step back from him.

 Thomas had been bowed to before, of course, seeing as he was a king, but this was not out of respect or courtesy or even just tradition. This was out of terror. He was begging for mercy and it made Thomas feel sick.

“I’m sorry,” he said, meek and shaky into the ground, and there was almost something worse about the fact that he did not beg for forgiveness with his words, but only his posture. The way his breathes came far too quick and shallow said he was likely on the verge of a panic attack, but he was not blubbering through apologies or even not speaking at all. He gave a clear, if shaky, apology, and waited for whatever he thought Thomas planned to do to him. There was no way that was not learned.

 “You don’t…” Thomas stuttered. “You don’t have to do that. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he reacted in no other way. He did not even react when Patton made it to his side and knelt down next to him. Patton’s hand hovered over his back, clearly wanting to touch down, but he pulled back on that instinct.

“Virgil, honey,” he said softly. “It’s okay. No one is mad. It was an accident.”

Virgil did not react to this at all.

Thomas caught Logan’s eye as he hurried over to them himself. “Sorry,” Thomas mouthed. Logan just nodded and turned his attention to his friend.

 “There is no reason for any of that,” Logan said, his voice firm, almost clipped. “You are not in trouble. Now sit up.”

Virgil did respond to that, slowly shifting back on his knees. He kept his head down looking at the ground. “Sorry,” he said again.

“I…” Thomas said, surveying the three kids on the ground in front of him. Thomas slowly sunk to the ground to be at their level. Virgil was tracking his movements out of the corner of his eyes, his head still bowed and his shoulders tensed. “Hey,” Thomas said softly. “Were you three playing tag?”

 Virgil hesitated, eyes flickering as he debated whether he should respond or not.

“Yeah, we were,” Patton answered for him after a moment of stressful silence.

“Well that’s fun,” Thomas said. “I’m sorry for interrupting the three of you. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Virgil glanced up at him for just a moment before looking away again. Patton apparently felt it was safe enough to touch Virgil, because he settled a hand on the boys shoulder.

“Yeah, we’ve just been having a fun day,” Patton said, carefully matching Thomas’s light tone. “We went to the garden and did some reading. Then, Mr. Deknis gave us some apples.”

 “That’s nice,” Thomas replied. “He’s been talking about the new apples he’s been growing. He’s been working on them for years and they’re just beginning to bare fruit this year. I haven’t gotten a chance to try any yet. Are they any good?”

“They’re very good,” Patton told him. His hand rubbed slowly on Virgil’s back. “Isn’t that right, Virge?”

Virgil nodded a bit, a little less tense now, but still nowhere near calm.

“Well, I’ll have to try them soon,” Thomas said with a smile. “Thank you for the information. Now, I’ve got to get back to what I’m doing, but I hope you three have a good day.”

 “I’ll see you later, Dad,” Logan said.

Thomas nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “Goodbye you three,” he said before turning away towards the door back into the castle. He paused to take a breath when the door closed behind him, cutting off the courtyard. There were a lot of thoughts to shirt through in regards to that conversation. He hated that Virgil was so obviously terrified of him. Both of their two interactions had ended with the poor thing panicking on the ground. He wished he had some idea of how to help him or at least someone to talk to about it.

Maybe he’d go visit Mr. Deknis himself and not just for the apples.

  Chapter 25

“Alright,” Patton said, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “I’ve got to go back to my room for the night. Will you two be okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Logan said. “It won’t be particularly different than the last two weeks.”

Patton nodded and leaned to the side to squeeze Virgil in another hug. He’d been clingy since the incident in the courtyard, and Virgil had been appreciative considering he was still pretty shaky from it. He was still surprised he’d touched the king of Prijaznia (let alone ran into him) and lived to tell the tale.

“Goodnight, Pat,” Virgil said because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t leave if Virgil didn’t.

 “Night Virge,” Patton said with a smile before standing up from where they’d been sitting on the ground. He reached over to hug Logan who was sitting on a chair. “Night Lo! Put the book down and go to bed.”

Logan looked up from his book with a frown.

“It’s almost midnight,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and set his book down. “Very well,” he agreed. “We will get ready for bed.”

“You better! I’m going to come and wake you up early in the morning.”

“Early in the morning for you is 9am,” Logan scoffed.

Patton stuck his tongue out at him as he walked backwards out of the door.

 Logan gave his book a mournful look once the door closed and Virgil almost giggled. “I won’t tell on you,” he said.

Logan thought about it for a few moments. “No,” he finally said. “We should probably get some sleep.”

Virgil nodded and pushed himself to his feet.

“We should probably both take a bath after sitting in the dirt today,” Logan said. “Do you want to go first or should I?”

“Don’t care,” Virgil answered.

“You can go first,” Logan offered.

Virgil felt himself smile. “You just want to finish the chapter in that book,” he accused.

“Perhaps,” Logan conceded.

 Virgil just grinned and walked over to his closet to grab one of the outfits he’d been given for pajamas. He chose a pair of baggy shorts that went past his knees and the huge soft black sweater Logan had found in the back of his closet. He headed into the bathroom, noting Logan had already picked up his book again.

Logan may have declared the both of them dirty enough for bathing a few minutes before, but Virgil was cleaner than he thought he’d ever been before coming to the castle. Logan had taught him how to use the tub and what soaps to use for what a couple of days after he’d arrived and had suggested he clean himself regularly.

 Virgil didn’t mind. The tub was enchanted to warm the water inside of it and Virgil loved it. Though, that had the negative affect of making it very difficult to leave.

He cleaned himself up quickly, so he’d have a few minutes to just sit in the water before he felt like he needed to get out and let Logan have a turn. He changed into his pajamas, pulling the crescent shaped protection charm out of his day clothes pocket and storing the warm to the touch stone in the short pocket. He used the clip Patton had made it to pin it to the cloth to make sure he wouldn’t lose it.

 Logan was engrossed in his reading by the time that Virgil exited the bathroom. He did not look up as Virgil approached.

“Your turn,” Virgil said to him.

Logan clearly just barely managed to tear his eyes away from the book. “Right,” he said. “Yes.”

“The book will be there in the morning,” Virgil reminded.

“I know,” said Logan sadly as he set the book aside.

Logan never took much time in the bath, so Virgil quickly went about getting ready for bed the rest of the way. He put his day clothes in the basket Logan had for that purpose and started to straighten out the blankets and pillows in the closet.

 He heard Logan come back into the room a few minutes later.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “What are you doing?”

Virgil looked over at him. “Getting ready for bed,” he answered, confused.

Logan frowned at him. “You don’t sleep in the closet anymore,” Logan said. “That’s only for when we were worried you might escape.”

“Oh,” Virgil said blinking over at him. “Right.” He felt a slight pulling at his chest. He liked the closet. It was warm and soft. Patton had taken a lot of care with how he’d arranged all of the pillows and blankets. It was the best place he could ever remember having to sleep in his life. Yet, he did not argue. He knew getting to sleep out in the open was supposed to be a reward and he wasn’t about to reject it.

 Virgil stood and closed the closet. He tugged on the bottom of his sweater, stretching the fabric between his hands as he watched Logan pull down the covers of his bed and settle down onto it. Cautiously he walked over towards the bed. He wasn’t sure where he should lay down exactly. He dithered for a moment before bending down to sit on the floor near the right side of Logan’s bed and then laying down.

There was shuffling on the bed above him and then Logan’s head popped over the side to squint down at him. “On the bed Virgil,” he said.

 Virgil looked up at him in shock. “But it… I’m…” He trailed off and there were a few seconds of silence.

“It is just a bed Virgil,” Logan said.

But it wasn’t ‘just’ anything. Virgil was pretty sure touching the bed of a royal family member without permission would be considered a capital offence. At least, it would in Mocnejsi. Yet, Logan was expecting him to just… crawl into it?

“Please just get up here,” Logan said. Virgil’s caution at touching something he was definitely sure he should not be allowed to be touching wared with his resolve to repay his literal life debt to Logan by doing whatever he wanted.

 Feeling honestly a bit sick to his stomach, Virgil slowly pushed himself back to his feet. Logan scooted back over to the left side of the bed, and Virgil cautiously sat down on the empty side of the bed. After a second of hesitation he slowly laid down, his head hitting a soft fluffy pillow. He jumped when Logan flopped the covers on top of both of them.

Virgil took a long moment to absorb the situation while Logan took off his glasses and reached over to turn off the light next to him. He’d never slept in a bed before, or if he had he’d been too young to remember. In the orphanage there was a lack of actual beds due to overcrowding and there had always been someone bigger and stronger that Virgil didn’t dare fight for the use of them. During training, none of the kids had a bed. Only a few of the higher ups had ones at the more permanent training sites. There were very few situations where any of the assassins, at least a Virgil’s level, would be allowed to touch a real bed.

 The light switched off, plunging them into darkness.

“Is this…?” Virgil said, eyes still pointed towards the ceiling even though his eyes had not adjusted to the darkness enough to be able to see it. “Do you want… things?”

“Things?” Logan asked.

Virgil did not move his head, but he did reach over and put his hand slightly above Logan’s knee. Logan didn’t move, so Virgil slid his hand up.

Virgil’s wrist was grabbed immediately and pulled firmly away from Logan’s inner thigh. He did not let go afterwards, his fingers squeezing hard, but not quite painfully. “Never,” Logan said, his voice harsher than it had ever been even on the day when Virgil was nothing more than an intruder with deadly intent. “Never offer anything like that to anyone ever again.”

 “I was just…”

“I know what you were doing,” Logan said, voice icy, “and it inadmissible. Never offer that again for anything. Do you understand me?”

“I... yes.”

“Promise me.”

Virgil took a short moment to think. “I promise,” he agreed.

“Good,” Logan said, releasing his hand. His voice got softer too. “Good.”

They were silent for a long time after that, though Virgil had no delusions that Logan had fallen asleep. He could almost feel the tension.

“Sorry,” Virgil finally said softly.

“It’s not something you should be apologizing for,” Logan replied. The bed moved as Logan shifted and a hand lightly touched the top of his head. “Just… never.”

 “Okay,” Virgil said. He shifted slightly after a moment until his head was in the crook of Logan’s arm. Logan brushed the hair out of his face with the hand that had been on his head.

“Goodnight Virgil,” Logan said.

“Goodnight,” Virgil responded. They were quiet after that, though Virgil was still awake for a while yet and Logan’s hand slowly stroked through his hair for a while. Eventually though, Virgil relaxed into mattress. He stuck his hand into his pocket and curled it around the charm in his pocket. The bed was nice, he thought. It was soft and warm… and safe. He finally fell asleep.

  Chapter 26

Patton did their new special knock on the door so Logan and Virgil would know it was just him and they didn’t need to hide the fact that Virgil was sleeping in the prince’s room. He didn’t wait for a response, however, and just shoved open the door. He was surprised to see that Logan was not already out of bed and wondered for a moment if he had broken his promise stayed up way too late reading like he was sometimes known to do. Yet, then, Logan spoke from the bed. “I’m awake,” he called.

Confused, Patton stepped into the room. Logan wasn’t one for lazing around in bed; usually he was out of bed the moment he woke.

 He stepped over to the bed and had to stifle a smile when he recognized the problem. Logan was awake, but Virgil was still sleeping, and he was half on top of Logan, his arms wrapped around him.

“Why don’t you just squirm out of his arms like you do me?” Patton asked, keeping his voice low.

“He isn’t like you,” Logan said. He did not bother to quiet himself at all.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked amused.

In answer, Logan started to move as though to squirm out of Virgil’s death grip on him. In response, Virgil made a pitiful mewling sound in his sleep that landed like a piercing blow straight to the heart. Logan stopped moving immediately and Virgil shifted to grip Logan tighter.

 “Aw!” Patton said.

“It’s not cute,” Logan insisted. “I’ve been stuck for hours and I have to pee.”

Patton chuckled. “Alright, alright, I’ll save you.” He rounded the bed to Virgil’s side and crawled up on it. “Virgil, honey,” he entreated softly. “I think it’s time for me to get cuddles so Lo can get up.” Patton softly touched Virgil’s shoulder and pulled at him gently. He reached forward to carefully pry Virgil’s arms off of Logan.

Virgil made a more confused than heartbreaking sound this time, turning towards Patton so Patton could wrap his arms around him. Logan managed to scoot towards the edge of the bed.

39448

Logan made it off the bed and dashed towards the bathroom as Virgil’s arms came around Patton and squeezed. Patton laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. After a few moments, Virgil’s eyes started to flicker a bit.

“Good morning, honey,” Patton said softly. “Did you sleep good?”

He hummed sleepily. “Beds are nice,” he said. Patton felt a slight pang at that because it implied he didn’t get to sleep in beds very much, but he chose to shove that aside.

“They are,” Patton agreed. Virgil’s eyes started to close again. “Honey,” Patton laughed. “I think it’s time to wake up now.”

 Virgil made a sleepy whining sound, squeezing Patton tighter. “Don’t you want breakfast?” Patton asked. That question managed to make Virgil open his eyes again. “I was thinking we could go down to the kitchen to eat that way it’s nice and fresh and I can introduce you to Mama real quick.” He neglected to mention the fact that they really did not have a choice. Mr. Deknis had blabbed to Mama about Virgil, and worse, had apparently mentioned that Virgil was skinny. As soon as he’d gotten home yesterday, he’d been met with an already worked up Mama firmly insisting that she meet Virgil sometime today.

 He wasn’t going to tell Virgil that though, because he thought it might scare him away from both Mama and Mr. Deknis.

Virgil thought about the prospect of breakfast for a long moment. “Fine,” he agreed. “I’ll be awake.”

“Good,” Patton said. He reached up to bop him on the nose. Virgil narrowed his eyes and then bopped him back making Patton giggle. He sat up then, and Virgil let him. “Let’s get you something to wear and do your hair,” Patton suggested. Virgil nodded and reluctantly got out of bed, just as Logan returned to the room. “We’re going to go downstairs for breakfast,” Patton told Logan. “That way Virgil can meet my mom.” He gave Logan a significant look and Logan nodded once in understanding that this was not a choice.

 Logan and Virgil got dressed, and Patton did Virgil’s hair up nice, before Patton led them out of the royal wing. They went down the main staircase instead of the spiral staircase that went right to the kitchen, mostly because it would be very busy, and Patton thought they should probably eat in the main dining room anyway. He could feel Virgil getting more anxious as they entered the busier part of the castle, and he stuck close to either Patton or Logan from the time they hit the top of the steps all the way to the main dining room.

 There were a few people in the dining room already eating breakfast when they arrived. Virgil’s curiosity seemed to temporarily overwhelm his anxiety as he looked around the large hall and at all of the people there. Patton looked around trying to see it through his eyes. He’d been running around this place since he was little, so he never really thought about how big the room was or how grandly it was decorated, but Virgil was just seeing it for the first time. Patton smiled at him as he guided him to one of the seats. There was already muffins on the table so Patton grabbed one and plopped it in front of Virgil.

 Virgil frowned down at the muffin dubiously. “You just… keep food out in the open?” he asked.

Right.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Patton promised. “No one here would have put anything in it.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes and looked around at the other occupants of the room suspiciously.

“Honestly,” Logan said. “No one even knew we would be down here for breakfast. Nobody would just put something in random people’s food for no reason.”

Virgil gave him a look like he’d just told him people could in fact breathe under water. Virgil was really from a… whole different world, wasn’t he?

 “It’s really fine,” Patton said. “Logan and I have eaten things on the table like this a lot.”

“I’m surprised your not dead yet,” Virgil said.

Logan rolled his eyes and reached for a muffin. Virgil slapped it out of his hand and onto the floor. “Really?” Logan asked.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at him. “No eating unsecured food!”

“Virgil,” Logan groaned.

“I bet you don’t even know what common poisons taste like.”

“No,” Logan said. “I don’t because I don’t worry about being poisoned on a daily basis!”

“You should!”

People were starting to look over at them. Patton shot an awkward smile at the woman a few chairs down.

20285

“Just don’t eat the muffins Logan,” Patton said under his breath.

“I do not understand why-”

“Because it’s stupid as he-”

“Shush,” Patton commanded out of the corner of his mouth, “people are watching, and Virgil is just a normal castle resident.”

That shut the both of them up at least.

“No muffins for now,” Patton said. “I assume it’s okay to eat the things they bring straight from the kitchen.”

Virgil looked a bit leery of this still, but he nodded.

“Good,” Patton said, “then we’ll just wait for that to get here and then everyone will be happy, right?”

Logan opened his mouth and Patton turned to glare at him.

“Right?”

 Logan closed his mouth, though clearly, he did not want to give in so easily. They’d be doubtlessly rehashing this conversation once they were alone again.

Patton caught sight of one of the kitchen workers he knew fairly well come out of the kitchen and deliver food to a group of people who were there before them. She caught sight of them and walked over likely to ask them what they wanted for breakfast. Patton watched out of the corner of his eye as Virgil tensed, eyeing her approach suspiciously and she slowed under his glare.

This was going to be a long breakfast.

  Chapter 27

After an, honestly quite aggravating, breakfast full of Virgil’s cognitive distortions about the likelihood of being poisoned, Logan was relieved to finally be able to leave the dining area. In consideration to those serving breakfast, Patton did not lead them through the door in the back of the dining room that went directly to the kitchen, and instead took them out of the room and down the hall to a different entrance. This one had a guard stationed across from it as, despite what Virgil may believe, the castle workers did consider the possibility that someone would want to sneak into the kitchen for nefarious purposes.

 Said guard, of course, saw nothing wrong with the prince and the head chef’s son entering the side door even with the bonus stranger. In fact, he may even have known Virgil could be coming through this door if Ms. Heart had mentioned him.

Though Virgil hadn’t managed to catch it, Logan knew enough about Patton’s mother that he’d surmised that she had insisted Patton bring the boy to meet her. It was bound to happen at some point anyway, Logan knew, and he wasn’t particularly worried. After all, this was Patton’s mother. Virgil himself didn’t even seem particularly concerned.

 Logan had seen him panic and, while he tugged a bit at the sweater he was wearing, the motion was not particularly fervent, so he was likely just slightly nervous.

Of course, that may be because he did not know Patton’s mother specifically wanted to meet him and just assumed that they were starting the necessary process of introducing him to castle residents with a low risk person.

When they entered the hallway, Logan could already hear the usual noises of the kitchen: the clattering of plates, the bubble of conversation, and the sound of Ms. Heart’s voice calling out instructions.

 He did see Virgil hesitate, but Logan couldn’t sus out why and Patton was already ahead of them and opening the door into the kitchen. It was fairly calm for the kitchen considering it was meal hours. Logan imagined that Patton had chosen the time between when the day guards ate breakfast before their shifts and the night guards after their shifts on purpose. There was still a bit of chaos as dishwashers attempted to catch up during the lull and a few orders were still being made, but overall the mood seemed, to Logan at least, to be light as Ms. Heart ordered her kitchen around.

 Yet, Virgil clearly did not see the situation the same way that Logan did. He froze when the kitchen door swung open and some of the workers turned to look at them. He took a step back, bumped into Logan, startled violently, realized it was Logan, and then side stepped to hide behind him. Logan looked back at him in confusion, but Virgil said nothing, proceeding to mutely peer over Logan’s shoulder.

Patton had moved over to greet his mother as she wiped her hands off on a rag. She glanced over at Virgil and Logan and Logan saw Virgil shrink back a bit.

 Logan could see Ms. Heart’s eyes soften as she tracked his movement. She turned to the woman next to her and said something before moving to remove her apron and hang it up in its designated area. Virgil’s hands clenched in the fabric of Logan’s shirt when she turned back to him.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Logan told him, but Virgil didn’t seem to believe him. Luckily, Patton had turned back and seemed to realize something was amiss.

He stepped back over to them. “Hey, honey,” he said. A plate clattered in the kitchen and Virgil just about ripped Logan’s shirt.

 Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “You are digging your fingernails into my skin.” Patton shot Logan a glare. “What?”

“How about,” Patton’s mom suggested. Virgil’s fingernails dug more into Logan’s skin. “We go to my office.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mama,” Patton said. “Come here, Virgil.” He reached over to touch one of Virgil’s hands and had to pull a bit to get him to release Logan. “It’s back that way, away from the kitchen,” he said when he managed to twine their fingers. He stepped around Logan, probably so there was still a buffer between Virgil and the kitchen and tugged him in the correct direction.

 Ms. Heart shot a glance at Logan and Logan felt irrationally like she was trying to read his thoughts. Logan smoothed his features out and turned to follow Patton and Virgil towards her office.

As head chef, Ms. Heart had a small office where she could plan menus without the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and have meeting with people who needed to discuss dietary needs and restrictions. It was very well organized, but still looked fairly messy because of the numbers of decorations she had in it. She had a tendency to keep everything that Patton made her, thus she had his childhood drawings on the wall and little projects stacked on her desk and on the shelves. A lumpy cat statue acted as a paperweight on a stack of papers on her desk and there was a vase of fake flowers (as it could not actually hold water) sat near the window.

 By the time Logan entered the room, Patton was trying to coax Virgil into sitting down on one of the two mismatched chairs, but Virgil was having none of it. He had turned to face the door and was yanking at his sweater in nervousness.

Logan noticed that Ms. Heart did not come far into the room, instead pausing near the door. She did, however close the door to give them privacy, and that seemed to distress Virgil more.

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment. “Hello,” she said, her voice softer than Logan was used to hearing. “You must be Virgil.”

 It seemed as though he were willing himself to magically shrink, but he still replied. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Patton’s mom.”

“I know, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Virgil.”

He hesitated. “Okay,” he said somehow quieter.

Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and it seemed that she decided to result to her default way of making people more comfortable. “Would you kids like some candy?”

Logan saw Patton’s hand squeeze Virgil’s lightly. “That would be great, Mama.”

She nodded and walked forward towards her desk. Virgil turned so his back was never to her. If she noticed, she didn’t react. She just grabbed a small tin off one of her shelves and took the top off. “How about a peppermint candy?” she asked.

 She offered the tin out to them. Virgil stared at it like it was a venomous snake. Logan decided to act, stepping forward and taking three of the pieces of peppermint candy from the dish. He stepped over to Virgil and Patton and held out his hand, offering Virgil first choice out of all three.

He hesitated before glancing between Patton and his mother. He must have decided that Patton’s mom wouldn’t risk poisoning Patton and took one of the pieces. Patton took another one of them and popped it into his mouth. Logan ate the last piece.

“Thanks,” Virgil said to Ms. Heart before placing his piece in his mouth.

 Logan watched Virgil’s eyes light up a bit when the flavor registered. His posture didn’t completely relax, but he seemed at least a bit less like he was contemplating jumping through the window. His trust was almost worryingly easy to buy sometimes. All it took was a not poisoned peppermint.

Ms. Heart seemed pleased by his reaction. “I’m actually going to be making some new ones soon and I’m trying to get rid of these. Would you like to take another one for later?” she asked, holding out the tin.

He looked at it warily again, but he still stepped closer slowly and took another piece. “Thank you.”

 “Anytime,” Ms. Heart said, eyes looking over him intensely. “You look like you could do to with a few more sweets every so often.”

Virgil tilted his head in that way he did when he was particularly perplexed.

Patton giggled a bit. “She means your skinny.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Logan already gave me a malnutrition potion for that.”

“Did he now?” she asked, her eyes flickering to Logan. Logan winced. He was definitely in trouble for not bringing him directly to her. He was sure he’d hear all about it as soon as she caught him without Virgil in the room.

 She turned back to Virgil with a smile, and Logan imagined Virgil had no idea how dead Logan was. “Well, that’s a very good start, but if there was need for a nutrition potion, we should be careful to make sure you get enough calories and nutrients every day going forward.” She sat down at her desk. “Why don’t you and I talk for a bit about making sure you get some good food.”

He still looked cautious but was predictably enticed by the promise of food. He did not sit still, but he did put his hands on the back of one of the chairs and slightly lean on it. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.

“Okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to have a few more specific questions, but let’s just start with what are your favorite foods?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Virgil replied immediately.

“He really likes chicken alfredo,” Patton contributed.

Virgil perked up at the name of the food. “I did like that,” he agreed.

“Alright,” Ms. Heart replied. That’s a start.

  Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

 That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

 Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

 “And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

 “Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

 “Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

 “We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

 Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

 “Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

43410

“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

 “Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

 “You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

 “That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

 Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

 “I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

 Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

 “Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

 Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

 He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

 It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

 Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

 Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

  Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

 Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

 “Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

 “Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

 “Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

 “Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

 “Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

 “Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

 Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

 “I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

 Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

 “Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

 He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

#proofread stories #not writing

[kevindayisafrog]

Part 4 of the Kevaaron thing (does it need a name??)

Don’t expect this to be good, I have the imagination of a pebble

TW - R*ko and anxiety

“I told you not to come in today”, Wymack stood up straight as he saw his son walk into the room behind Andrew and Neil. “He’s stubborn, what did you expect?” Neil rolled his eyes and followed Andrew to their couch. “I’m fine to play”, Kevin didn’t look up from the floor when he spoke, he didn’t want to look anyone in the eye. “Fine, but if it gets too much for you then you come straight off”, Wymack stared at Kevin a little longer until Kevin gave a small nod. “Why are you moping? You should be celebrating Riko’s death”, Allison frowned across the room as she rested her head on Renee’s shoulder. “Shut up”, Wymack glared at Allison after watching Kevin wince at her words. “Anyway, I just wanted to quickly say that I’m proud of you for winning, etcetera, etcetera and that this doesn’t mean that you get a day off just because you won the championships. You still need practice”, he shot Nicky a ‘shut-up’ face as he groaned and tried to protest. “Now that we’re all happily on the same page, get changed and get on the court before I make you do extra laps”. He nodded to the Foxes as they groaned and left the lounge, all but Kevin and Aaron. “Are you deaf? I said move it” Wymack clicked his fingers at the two but Abby slapped his hand away and made it over to the remaining Foxes. “Aaron, why don’t you go get changed. I’ll send Kevin in in a moment”, she smiled at Aaron who flicked a side eye at Kevin before nodding and leaving the room. Abby waited for Aaron to leave before crouching down in front of Kevin and squeezing his thigh. “How are you today?” her voice was soft and Kevin had to look away to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “I’m fine” he murmured whilst picking at the scar on his left hand - the scar that was proof that Kevin should be glad of Riko’s death, but was a reminder of how he let Riko down. “You’re not Neil, so you can’t get away with ‘I’m fine’. How are you really?” she pulled his hands apart and squeezed them lightly as Kevin bit his lip. “I don’t know”, he finally answered. “That’s okay, you don’t need to know how to feel right now. As long as you give yourself time to process everything”, she watched as Kevin frowned and bit his lip harder. “It doesn’t feel okay”, he barely whispered and cleared his throat. “No, I know. But just allow yourself to feel something”, Kevin didn’t let her finish as he shrugged her hands off and left the room.

He felt his cheeks flush and the room felt unbearably hot with the weight of her stare. He hated when people tried to make him feel things, it always ended the same way with him locked away in the bathroom alone. The same dead weight in his lungs. He pushed the locker room door open and breathed deeply to try to even out his breaths. He didn’t look up at the others on his way to his locker, just walked past and watched himself wring his hands. He swung open his locker and used the door to hide himself as he leaned his head on the cold metal. All he needed to do was keep himself together for the next four hours and then he was free to hide in his bed until morning. “Are you getting ready or not?” he looked down at Aaron’s pint sized body leaning on the row of lockers. He didn’t answer as he rifled through his locker to pull out his kit. He felt the room burn hotter as Aaron’s stare burned into the side of his head. “Can you stop fucking looking at me!” He slammed his locker shut and stormed away to get changed with the others. He ignored Matt’s question and Nicky’s confused stare as he tried to change as quickly as he could. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Aaron left the locker room and slammed the door behind him. “What happened there?” Matt whispered loudly to Nicky and Kevin felt a muscle twitch in his temple. “Mind your fucking business”, he glared at Matt before turning back to clip on his neck guard. His breathing became shallower and his fingers were trembling over the clip; his temper growing worse as each second passed. He gave up and threw the guard onto the floor as Matt and Nicky left for the court. “We don’t have time for your tantrums”, Neil threw the guard back at Kevin and followed Andrew out of the locker room. Kevin felt his legs wobble beneath him as the numb feeling trailed up his body. “Four hours. Keep it together for just four fucking hours”, he whispered to himself as he clipped the neck guard in place. He pulled on his top and walked out of the locker room whilst strapping his gloves on. “It’s about time”, Matt shouted as Kevin picked up his racket and walked onto the court. He felt his body itch all over as everyone stared at him expectantly. “Are we playing or what?” He stared them all down before making his way across the court to stand beside Neil. He looked up as the others started to move into place and caught eyes with Aaron. He opened his mouth to say something but Aaron just looked away and fiddled with his racket. He turned to stare at the target goal in front of him and decided that it didn’t fucking matter if the others hated him. Nothing really mattered anymore.

The game passed as it always did: arguments, fights and Kevin lecturing Neil on how to be a better striker. When Wymack called practice to an end Kevin went to argue but was just waved off to get changed. He forgot about everything for just a while and kept his head in the game; no feelings and no thoughts invading his mind. He dragged himself to the changing room and pulled off his sticky clothes. He grabbed a towel and went into an empty shower cubicle, locking the door with a sigh. He turned the water on and rested his head on the back wall, letting the water run down himself without interference. He heard Nicky talking over the water to Matt and heard Neil’s light humming, wondering how each of them got to where they were today. He let himself get wrapped up in their lives to distract himself from his own as the shower water slowly turned cold against his skin. “Have you drowned?” Nicky knocked on the door and wiggled his foot under the door. “Fuck off”, Kevin kicked his foot away and turned off the shower. “I can help you dry if you’d like”, he could hear Nicky’s giggle behind the door and Aaron groan from the next room. “I said fuck off”, he dried himself and pulled on his underwear and jeans before unlocking the door. “I was hoping you’d be in just a towel”, Nicky winked at him before rounding the corner to join Neil and Andrew at the door. “Perv”, Aaron muttered as he finished pulling on a baggy hoodie. Kevin hesitated to watch Aaron for a second before clearing his throat and throwing his dirty kit into the laundry pile. “We’ll meet you in the car”, Nicky waved at Aaron and Kevin before following the others out into the corridor. Kevin pulled on his Palmetto hoodie and watched Aaron tying his shoes. “So you’re allowed to stare and I’m not”, Aaron pulled his laces once more before sighing and looking up at Kevin. “I’m not staring”, Kevin slipped on his faded black boots and headed for the door. “I’m waiting”, Aaron followed Kevin into the corridor. “For what?” he looked down at Aaron with a frown. “For my apology”. Kevin snorted and shook his head, “you can wait all night”. They walked past Wymack’s office as he nodded a goodnight to them before turning back to his paper work. “I’m sorry for lashing out”, Kevin spoke so quietly that Aaron wasn’t sure if he heard him right. “I’m sorry, did I just get an apology from Kevin Day”, Aaron stopped walking and placed a hand over his heart. “Don’t expect another one”, Kevin stared over his shoulder at Aaron but didn’t slow down on his way to the door. He pushed it open and relaxed as the cool night air hit him. “Fuck it’s cold”, Aaron muttered behind Kevin as he pushed past to leave. Kevin watched Aaron’s small frame hunch over to keep the cold out as he made his way over to the car. He grabbed a fistful of his own hoodie and wondered what would happen if he offered Aaron the hoodie. He stared as the monsters climbed into the car as if he were a spectator of this small group of misfits. Why did he want to see Aaron curled up in his hoodie? He stared until Andrew honked the horn and walked over whilst reminding himself of Thea’s smile and Riko’s threats. He couldn’t allow himself to name his feelings. He’ll only end up alone on the bathroom floor.

#aftg au #aftg hc #incorrect aftg #aftg fic #kevin day #kevaaron #aaron minyard #neil josten #nicky hemmick #andreil #andrew minyard #nora sakavic #headcanon #riko moriyama

[heliads]

Inked Wrists Chapter 7: Back to School

When you turn eighteen, your soulmate’s name appears in a tattoo on your wrist. What happens when the name on your wrist reads Theo Raeken, and when you have to hide your identity from him?

previous / series masterlist / next

It’s good to have Theo back. Words can’t even describe the happiness you feel when you wake up each morning and sense that he is close to you again. After everything you’ve been through in the past few months, it is paradise to know that he loves you and you love him. It’s funny, saying you love him, because you’ve been hiding it from yourself for so long. You don’t know why, but you felt like you couldn’t love him while you were using the fake name- you kept walls between you two and you weren’t even sure if he wanted you at all. Now, you’ve allowed all your barriers to come crashing down and live happily with your soulmate.

Speaking of living with him, you talked it over with Theo and he decided that he wanted to go back to high school with you. It’s been a few weeks since the incident with the hunters, but you think it’s finally safe to return to normal life. After the hunters’ plan to take down both Scott’s and Satomi’s packs failed, they retreated to their bunker in shame. They launched a few more misguided attacks, but you and your friends were able to repel them, especially thanks to Nolan’s help. At first, you were surprised when the former hunter had showed up at Liam’s door, but he explained that he’d had a change of heart and was more than willing to provide you with information regarding the hunters. He’d been a valuable ally and instrumental in the decline of the hunters’ power over Beacon Hills.

Now, life is back to normal. Most of the hunters were just ordinary people, and they’ve been able to move on from their time as hunters to coexist with werewolves. The few extreme hunters, like Monroe, that couldn’t accept life with supernaturals have fled Beacon Hills. You’re not sure when they’ll come back, if ever, but you know that you and your friends will be able to easily defeat them if they try.

So, with the threat of the hunters eliminated and you and Theo left with no life-and-death conflicts to fill your days, you two decided to return to high school. It wasn’t that difficult to get Theo back in-he had left around halfway through the last year and so he could pick up in about the same place. You’d asked him if he was worried about forgetting everything he’d learned from last year, and he’d just responded with that signature smirk on his face: “I’m not worried about anything. I met this really pretty girl, and I know I can count on her for anything. I even wrote her name down on my arm so I wouldn’t forget it.” He holds up his soulmate tattoo, and you can’t help but laugh.

Thus, you find yourself walking down the halls of your school once more. You pause at your locker, opening it and reaching for the books inside. Down the hall, you see Theo walk towards you and move more slowly so he can catch up with him. Out of the corner of your eye, you see another girl walk up to Theo, wrapping her arm around his and smiling at him through pink glossed lips. “Hey, handsome. Where are you headed?” She oozes confidence, but her smirk turns to a frown when he untangles himself from her. “I’m going to meet up with my soulmate, actually.” The girl puts on a fake pout. “She doesn’t have to know.” Theo stops walking and turns to the girl, looking her straight in the eyes. “You know, one time I was dating this girl who pretended to be my soulmate so we could be together. Do you know what happened to her?” The girl winks at him through lowered lashes. “You enjoyed her company.” Theo grins. “I killed her.” With that, he walks the rest of the way to you, leaving the girl with her mouth hanging open in shock. “You know, I don’t think you have to go out of your way to terrorize every girl who flirts with you.” You laugh at him. “Maybe I just wanted to. Did you see her face?” He grins, and you two walk down the hallway to your next class, talking all the while.

It’s good to be back at school. You finally get to feel like a normal teenager, going to class and doing all the things everyone else does. After you leave class, you head to the lunch table your friends always claim, and sit down next to Lydia. Liam flops down across from you. “Why did Coach Finstock become a teacher? Like honestly, why?” Stiles grins. “Don’t you love his unique teaching style? If he wants to be head coach for lacrosse, he has to teach at least one class, so he chose the one he thought would be easiest.” Liam just groans. “If it weren’t for the fact that I’m on the lacrosse team, I’d just skip all his classes.” Theo walks up from behind you and sits down on your other side. “Are we complaining about Coach Finstock? Guy just told me I look like I have the biceps of a mountain lion. How am I supposed to respond to that?” You can’t hold back your laughter. “A mountain lion? Seriously?”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Get used to it. He gives out weird compliments to whoever he wants on the lacrosse team. He’s always talking about getting new players, especially since Kira left to go train with the Skinwalkers. Coach won’t leave you alone until you either join the team or find some excuse to get out of it, like breaking your arms and your legs and also being dead.” The table dissolves into laughter and friendly chatter breaks out amongst your friends.

On the way back from lunch, though, you can tell Theo’s lost in thought about something. Finally, he turns to you. “I’ve been thinking about what Liam said. Do you think it would be alright if I tried out for the lacrosse team? Like, would they mind?” You smile up at him. “I think it would be a great idea. They’d welcome a new player, and as long as you don’t try to challenge Scott for the title of team captain, you’ll fit right in.” Theo nods. “There’s another practice this Friday. I might go talk to Coach before then and see if he can let me join.” 

Before you know it, Friday has come around. Theo’s delighted- Coach took one look at him and told him he could join the team for as long as he wanted. They have a practice during lunch today, and Theo made you promise that you’d come watch. “I need moral support on my first day.” Thus, you find yourself climbing through the bleachers to sit beside Mason as the lacrosse players warm up on the field in front of you. Mason leans back, grabbing a notebook so at least he can pretend to study. “This is my favorite part of the day.” You laugh at him, taking a notebook of your own out of your backpack. “Shameless.” You tease, and he pretends to frown. “Can’t I support my soulmate in peace?” “Sure, if I thought you were only here to support him and not anyone else.” Mason rolls his eyes. “Yeah, it would be nice if Eight-Pack Brett were here, but we can’t have everything.” You groan. “I don’t know how you can stand the guy. He’s totally not worth your time! I think his ego’s even taller than he is.” As the two of you laugh, you see Theo on the field. He looks up at you and waves, and you return the gesture, letting a light smile cross your face.

Theo ends up really enjoying lacrosse. You’re not sure whether it’s because of the comradery between his teammates, the excitement of the sport, or just because he gets to tackle anyone and everyone who stands in his way. Coach is thrilled, of course, and so the number of kids he sends limping to the sidelines just grows and grows. You don’t mind his liking the game yourself- you’re glad it makes him happy and you’re glad you get to watch him run around on the field during practice, sometimes with his shirt off. Whoops.

You also get to flaunt his jersey in the halls. You’re not sure why, but something about wearing his number on your back makes you feel even closer to him. Theo certainly doesn’t mind, and so you keep stealing it from him.

Before long, it’s time for Theo’s first lacrosse game. The stakes are high- Beacon Hills is playing Devenford Prep tonight, the one team they can’t always beat. You’re sure that with Theo playing, Beacon Hills should have no trouble crushing them, but you can still feel the unease radiating from the lacrosse team when you show up to the game that night.

You’ve snuck around back to visit Theo before the game starts, and he’s only got a few more minutes with you before Coach Finstock starts one of his famously awful speeches. You wish him luck and kiss him goodbye, then run up to the bleachers to sit with Mason, Lydia, and Malia. Lori’s sitting a ways away from you with her friends from Devenford Prep, and you give her a quick wave before turning your attention back to the field.

“Do you think we’ll win?” Malia asks from beside you. Mason scoffs. “Of course we will. If you check the numbers, we’ve got two werewolves and two chimeras against only one werewolf. It’s simple math.” You laugh at that. “Devenford’s got some players who are good without being supernatural.” Mason raises his eyebrows. “Your school spirit is sorely lacking, Y/N.” You shove him playfully. “Don’t get me wrong, I think Theo and everyone else is going to crush them, I’m just saying. It’ll be an interesting game.”

As the players run out onto the field, you make eye contact with Theo, who grins up at you. The Devenford Prep players take their positions opposite them, and before you know it, the game is started.

It’s a fairly even game, to your surprise. You can tell your friends aren’t using their supernatural abilities- they prefer to play fairly, although the same cannot be said of Devenford Prep’s team captain. You swear you can see the yellow glow of his eyes from here. Your friends still manage to keep their cool, until Liam and Theo are sprinting side by side towards the goal. Liam’s got the ball, and he’s about to pass it to Theo until your soulmate gets knocked down from behind by Brett. Instantly, you’re standing, hands pressed to your mouth in horror. The referee is yelling at Brett, something about an illegal move, but that doesn’t change the fact that Theo was knocked down pretty hard. Brett is about to walk away, but decides to whisper one last thing to Theo. You can’t make out exactly what he said, but you could have sworn you heard your name.

It’s the mention of your name that finally unlocks Theo’s anger. He stands up quickly, glaring at Brett. Without a word, he lines up at the starting line, lacrosse stick in hand. When the referee’s whistle blows to start the game, he’s running faster than you’ve ever seen him run before, already in possession of the ball thanks to a quick throw from Scott. Before you know it, he’s already scored! 

Cheering, you clap as loudly as you can. Theo goes on to score again and again, and there’s nothing Devenford Prep can do to stop him. By the time the game is over, he’s helped Beacon Hills maintain domination over the other team. When the players finally leave the field, you run up and throw your arms around him. “You were amazing!” Theo shakes back his sweaty hair from his face. “Thanks, babe. Only for you.” You can’t help but smile.

Once Theo’s showered and finished with post-game rituals, you’re waiting for him at home. You’re finishing up a text on the phone when you hear him come into the room and greet him with a kiss. “How’s the lacrosse superstar doing today?” He grins at you, exhausted but pleased with himself. “Not too bad, actually.” You talk for a while about the game, then settle down for a late night movie.

 It’s odd, though- you’ve barely started the movie long enough for the opening credits, but you hear a loud knocking on the door. You’re not expecting anybody, but the knocking is insistent and echoes throughout the room. You and Theo exchange glances, then get up together to see who it is. The second you open the door, you can’t help the stunned gasp that leaves your mouth.

Standing on the doorstep, covered in mud and scratches as if he’d run through the woods for hours, is a member of your old pack. One who you thought was dead.

Your older brother.

tag list: @linkpk88​

#teen wolf #theo raeken #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken imagines #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf x reader #theo raeken series #teen wolf series #soulmates au

[bakugohoex]

chapter three ➺ slim triumph

pairing: pro hero katsuki bakugo x pro hero female reader

cw: language and angry boi, some violence

word count: 2500+

a/n: anything in italics in this fic means a flashback, tbh all my fics and one shots if its italics its either a though that you’ll be able to see or a flashback if its consistent and looks out of place, hope you guy’s liked it

summary: in which the fates of both you and bakugo are determined by one detrimental night, chaos and showmanship is put to the test and by the end of the night you’ll be the most hated people in all of japan

chapter two | masterlist | chapter four 

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

“He’ll love it, if he doesn’t, I can always just manipulate him” You spoke sadistically, Bakugo raising an eyebrow as he gave a what the fuck face.

“You aren’t doing shit Y/n.” You pout both glaring at each other before hearing Hawks fly back in landing right in front of you.

He raises an eyebrow before collapsing on the chair, his legs on the table as he leant back looking at the two of you. He played with his hands before finally speaking to make you both stop uncomfortably glaring at each other “You got a plan then or what?”

You take a breath about to speak, just missing your chance as Bakugo interrupts you. “Yeah, we want it to happen at the gala.”

Hawks crosses his arms, “what will you two do?”

This time you were the one to interrupt the boy, “make a show of course.”

Hawks smirks as he watches the both of you, you both looked at him waiting for any sign that he would agree to even hold it in a place so public and less secure. He broke the uncomfortable atmosphere by nodding, “tell me what you need, and it’ll be done.”

The car drove right up to the gala venue, the cameras flashed and screams, and shouts came from all directions. They had been discrete in the car but as Bakugo opened the door for you, they had become a lot louder. “Y/n, Y/n is it true you and Pro Hero Bakugo are dating.” The comments flooding through, asking about the two of you, wanting to get photos of both of you. It was chaos, the only perk being that there were cameras everywhere helping with the mission.

You didn’t speak rolling your eyes, the long black dress hugged you perfectly, your hair swept to the side and your make up made everybody drool, except Bakugo who couldn’t care less. His black suit fitted him perfectly, but you would never tell him, “If you read my mind tonight, I will shoot you.”

“You’re no fun, you haven’t even complimented me yet.” You pouted trying to gain some attention from the loud boy who gave a dumbfounded look.

“Why would I? You look normal.” You huffed at the boy as he grabbed your arm, you latched onto him as a leach would.

“Keep an eye on the clock Bakugo.” You both had a rough time of when everything would be occurring, but you knew the only sign you properly had were when the flickering lights would occur.

“Yes Y/n, I’m not stupid.” It was like talking to a child, an irritated big manly child.

You turned and looked at him raising an eyebrow, “could’ve fooled me.” You snickered; you could almost feel the anger boil inside of him. “Heel boy, we might need to get you a muzzle.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you Y/n.” You smiled at his empty threat as he guided you inside.

The inside was large, spacious, and started to get filled up very quickly. You could spot the lights and different exits and entrances. But most importantly the cameras that were stationed everywhere, as much as you hated becoming your worst nightmare a thrill of excitement came from within. Your friends came up to you both, having not seen them in a while, you all began to talk trying to find a table to get yourselves comfortable for the long night. 

“We didn’t expect you two to come together.” Mina was almost gushing at how cute you both looked together, a scowl was placed on Bakugo’s face, the red shirt he had worn with the black suit made you almost find him pretty. Almost, his face needed changing for certain. His arm leant against the back of your chair, you didn’t notice, nor did you care, it was nothing more than a show to make it seem like the two of you had gotten closer.

“We…” You interrupt Bakugo before he can say you’re not. You had a better thought to make this plan work out, you had thought about the night before not being able to sleep, your bag with your hero costume inside of it sitting on the chair. Hawks said he would get a way of giving them to you, somehow. 

It would be better to be closer with Bakugo to benefit the plan and make the possibility of this plan working a lot higher than it already was. Sitting at a 70% chance of success you needed it to be higher and with your relationship with Bakugo it would increase by 15% at least. But even then there was always a risk of a slim triump occurring.

“Well, stuff happens.” You seemed to speak calmly but the cold nature was sensed by Bakugo as he grabbed the drink that Kirishima had just brought for everybody. You spot Hawks in the corner, a twinkle in his eye as he looked at you. You gave a small nod, unnoticeable but Bakugo saw and he knew it was soon coming that the plan would be occurring.

The event began the commission president speaking and saying gratitude, even Midoriya having his own little segment, they both spoke about how glad they were about how far the pro heroes had come and how they were grateful. Of course, you would have to put on a show that it was all bullshit.

You saw Hawks walk to the back of the large room, straight to where the bar was, the speeches continued it was the same bullshit every year. Your normally cared and listened but your nerves were getting the better of you.

You felt Bakugo grab your hands under the table, he nodded, and you knew it meant he was letting you inside his head. ‘Don’t you fucking start being a wus now.’

‘I’m not’

‘Y/n you’re hands are sweatier than mine are’ You didn’t think anything and before you were about to stop listening to his mind, you heard him again, ‘you look nice, that’s the only compliment you’re getting so stop being a pussy, okay?’

His hands removed from your own, and you hadn’t realised you had been holding in a breath, you softly thought an okay into his head before tuning out. You didn’t want to hear anything more in his head, instead turning back to the president. The spotlights on top of her and around the room beginning to flicker, a sign to both you and Bakugo that it was time.

You got up pretending to go to the bar, to get a drink Bakugo following, nobody questioned it assuming you both were having a normal friendly conversation. You met Hawks at the bar, he didn’t say much, instead slipping a note into your hand. Opening it up, you and Bakugo read it, all it said was side. You noticed there was a door to the left of the stage were the speeches were occurring and you knew exactly what was happening.

You grabbed Bakugo by the sleeve he undid a few buttons to get some air on his body before you went through the door. “If we go through that door, then we’ll get on stage.”

“You ready, you’re not going to back out on me, are you?” He spoke not looking you but glaring at the door. The earlier conversation fresh in your mind you needed to prove to him that you weren’t acting like a pussy.

“What you don’t think I’m capable of something like this?” You questioned; you knew you had a couple minutes before the lights would turn off completely both standing in front of the door.

“You want to what?” The president spoke, Hawks, Bakugo and you were all standing in her office, she raised an eyebrow at what you had just asked of her.

“You want us to get into the Front, we need to prove that we’re allies of theirs.” You paused trying to say your words carefully.

“Fucking hell Y/n, just say it or I will.” You went silent at Bakugo’s frustration, “we’re going to kill you.”

“Bakugo made it sound a lot worse than it actually is, but we planned it all out. Please just hear us out.” You pleaded trying to salvage the plan, you knew Hawks would agree but the president herself you had been a lot more vary of due to both yours and Bakugo’s past with the attention you both craved.

“Seem’s like we’re having some technical issues.” At the sound of the president’s voice you both knew it was time, your stomach churned in anxiety. You were both becoming something you never expected to become, but now you saw a tense Bakugo, all your thoughts were calm. He was as worried as you were and you both were defiantly not going to admit it.

Bakugo blew the side door open, Midoriya had gotten off stage and it was just the President left. She had crouched down at the sight of seeing the door explode, a smirk knowing the explosion had made everybody draw attention to the two of you and not the president. Both Bakugo and you walked happily in like sadists ready to murder.

“You’re probably wondering what’s happening.” Bakugo spoke with a smirk, his sleeve of his shirt had been ripped off, left in the waist coat and opened red shirt.

You had a smile plastered on your face, “let’s make everybody see.” Your quirk activated, the necklace around your neck making your powers more stable, you made the cameras face the two of you. It was like a game and you had started to enjoy this façade.

Every years the camera’s broadcasted this gala live, both you and Bakugo had once watched it back in your UA days with the rest of your class, you knew how it worked. How each camera was positioned, and you made sure that it was live for the whole of Japan to see.

“We’ve come to kill the president.” Bakugo almost laughed out, at the silence and looks of horror from everybody. Your old classmates in shock, pro heroes quirks began to activate as you could see them all getting ready to kill you both. It was a simple action, everybody’s hands in front of them, ready to capture you both.

“Aww look Bakugo they think they can kill us.” At the sound of your mocking you quickly controlled everybody, it was easier to control a mass group to stay still than control them to move. And as they stood watching, unable to move, you moved a single camera forward with the flick of your fingers.

“We’re putting on a show for out lovely viewers at home.” You made the camera move along with both you and Bakugo. Bakugo smirked as the president had started to crawl backwards, trying to get away in fear.

“Funny isn’t it, she thinks she can run.” You could feel the hotness coming from Bakugo’s hand, a maniac smile on your face before Bakugo threw the explosion right at her. Her scream filled the room, you could almost feel the horror emotions in everybody but all you could do was grin at the sight. The explosion had been powerful, Bakugo using both hands and this ultimately made you knew that if it were real, she would be dead on impact. 

Of course this was always the plan, but she was never going to die of course, it had always been a body double that had taken her place at the time of the first explosion.

It would bleed and die out and both you and Bakugo would have your fun. Which it evidently was doing, the blood poured out, your quirk allowed you to move a bit of the broken glass from the door closer to her body. It was almost horrifying at what you were doing, carving the fake, everybody watching and seeing the gleeful look you had on your face. “Now whose next, Y/n let fucking Deku speak.”

Bakugo jumped off the stage going towards the green haired boy, you laughed allowing his mouth to move. “Kacchan, Y/n, please what are you two doing?” He was unable to move and you knew suppressing this amount of people would take a toll on you soon, but you kept it up just to see their little scared faces look at you.

“He didn’t here Bakugo, why don’t you repeat yourself?” The cameras were still rolling and by now the whole of Japan would have been notified, you knew it as well would be any moment before more pro heroes would come and try and stop you.

“We came to kill the president, and now we’re going to kill more people.” Bakugo’s quirk was right in front of Midoriya’s face, he would never harm the boy, but the smug look he had made you know it was almost a win for Bakugo to have some power of the boy.

“Bakugo, she’s bleeding on my dress.” You whine out, Midoriya’s face was in shock at your callous behaviour, you kicked the body making her lie on her front.

Bakugo runs back up to you smirking, he hears the sirens and helicopters above, grabbing your waist to bring you closer to his body. “Well we’d love to stay but we have somewhere to go.”

“Come and find us.” You weren’t saying it to the pro heroes, you winked directly into the camera saying it to the Liberation Front. You had made a scene and as your arms wrapped around Bakugo, his explosions coming from his hands as he smashed a window flying out. You both knew this was the start of something a lot bigger than you had anticipated.

Your quirk out of their reach, as they could move and feel, Hawks had been the first person to go to the president, he took her to the men who had known of the plot, declaring her dead-on site. Your friends had tears down their eyes, confusion across their face.

���How could they…How could they have done something like this?” Mina spoke, Sero held her shoulders, they were all in shock.

As hawks watched over unable to explain he heard Midoriya be the first one to speak. “Maybe… maybe they were under control.”

“Midoriya, I think it was out of their own will, they were having fun, they didn’t do it because someone made them do it. They enjoyed doing it.” Kirishima spoke softly, he didn’t want to admit it, but he knew what he had seen.

“I’m going to find them both.” Midoriya muttered barely audible, Hawks had heard, and he knew this would become a bigger issue if Midoriya got in the way. But as he saw your distant figures due to his own quirk, he was glad you two had each other on this undercover mission. But the full plan had not been accomplished yet, the Liberation Front may have not even seen the charade and that would be detrimental for everybody. 

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alaina-rose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage​ @jennammaee​ @cathy8taffy @sugacious​ @moonlightaangel

#bnha bakugou #bnha headcanons #bnha #bnha x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x you #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #mha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugo x reader #mha katsuki #mha x y/n #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero headcanons #my hero academia x you #katsuki bakugo fanfiction #imagines #fanfics #boku no hero academia #bakugohoex

[obaby-me]

Your writing's really good! (~^-^)~* Can I get strong MC carrying their demon around bridal style?? (just an idea but imagine Levi being carried by MC in his favorite male character/ruri's cosplay :o, and for Belphie, maybe, him falling asleep during movie night or smth and MC just casually scooping him up to get him to his room?? For Mammon maybe rescuing him and running away from witches?) but u can think of smth by yourself ^^ can't wait :D

Thank you for the compliment anon. ♡

Manhandle the boys?  I got ya covered.  You had some great ideas, by the way.  These turned into basically mini-stories.

Lucifer

“Chicken fight?” Diavolo asked you with a glint in his eye, always eager to learn more of the human world.

“It’s a pool game, where two people carry two other people and try to push the carried person off their person.”  You explained, or rather tried to.  Even for a mostly sober Lucifer, the explanation was a mess.  A tipsy Diavolo found it impossible.

“Show me,” Diavolo asked. “Just show me.”

“It takes a minimum of 4 to play.  And it’s done in a pool.”  You laughed.

“You can’t do it outside of a pool?”  Diavolo whined with a frown.

Never wanting to disappoint, you quietly considered it.  “I mean…” Your eyes travelled to Lucifer, lighting up in a way the Avatar of Pride knew meant trouble.  But with a shake of his head, knowing what was to come, he stood from his seat, and rotated his shoulders.  Carrying you would be a simple task for him.

“If you can lift Barbatos, and I lift Lucifer, we could do a little demonstration.  But we can’t actually play.  Without the water it’s like, dangerous.”  You suggest.

“Lift me?”  Scoffed Lucifer, looking a little incredulous, while a delighted Diavolo barked out a laugh.

“Okay!”  The prince agreed enthusiastically.  His gold eyes flitting to the avatar of pride giving a silent, mortifying, order that sealed Lucifer’s fate.

Groaning into his drink, Lucifer quickly chugged down the last of his drink.  You kneeled down to the floor, and Diavolo followed suit, as you instructed Barbatos how to climb on to Diavolo’s back.

“Like this?”

“Yes!”  You nodded happily.  “Lucifer, your turn!  Hop on.”

The word no sat on his tongue but Diavolo’s expecting gaze wouldn’t allow for the word to pass his lips.  “Perhaps I ought to be the one to—”

Suddenly one of his legs was yanked out from under him as you swung it over one side of you.  You made no move to grab the other.  “Stop worrying.  I can lift you easy!”  You assured him with a cocky grin.

“I don’t know—”

When you ignored his protests and attempted shift yourself between his legs to grip the remaining foot tethering him to the ground, in fear of losing his balance, Lucifer finally complied.  He threw his leg over your shoulder, gripping on to your head and wrapping his thighs about your neck.  He shot a glare at his liege.  If you broke your neck, he refused to be held responsible.

To his surprise however, you stood straight up with ease, balancing him on your shoulders.  He was rather impressed.  Though that was sort of overridden by his unease at the sudden lack of control he had by being on your shoulders.

“Okay, now in a pool, Barbatos and Lucifer would have to shove each other off.”

A look of determination flashed across Diavolo’s face, and it took all three, Lucifer, Barbatos, and you to reiterate that this was not a game that could be played outside of the water.

Mammon

The witches call at the most inconvenient times.  But Mammon knows he must answer.

“I’m sorry,” he grumbled in apology to you as he dropped the shopping bags he’d been carrying into your arms.  “I’ll be right back,” he promised.

“Should we call someone first before you go?”  You asked, waving a hand at the plaza that surrounded you filled with demons.   Eyes flickered towards you occasionally, however they quickly averting upon recognizing the Lord of Greed.

He didn’t have time, but he also knew you were right.  Groaning and grumbling he texted a request to his brother’s chat for someone to come and get you.

But there was no immediate response.  Calls to several of the brothers also went unanswered—even when you made the calls.  Mammon grew impatient—because he knew the witches were too.

“Looks like I’ll just have to take ya with me,” he sighed.  “Ground rules, first.”  Looking serious and he holds his fingers up, “Don’t say anything,” he begins, dropping one finger. “Don’t touch anything.  Anything I say, ya agree with.  Anything I tell you to do, you do—no questions.  If I say run, run.”

You looked nervous—as you should be, so was he.  It was a bad idea to take you.  But it’s a worse idea to leave you alone.

Seeing the witches generally made Mammon a little queasy—but he can handle anything they throw at him. It’s you he worries about.

“Got it.”

“Don’t you worry, human. The GREAT Mammon won’t let anything happen you,” he said with a grin, trying to rid you of your worries.  You give him a small smile in return and he throws an arm around your shoulder as he begins to lead you away.

Meeting with witches didn’t seem to terrify you as they invited the two of you in for tea and treats. Mammon however, declined for the two of you, getting right to the point of their requests.  They made their demands rather politely, but the undertones of a threat obviously present.

The nature of their demands however, no matter how honeyed the language, were insane.  Limos, and dresses, and jewelry, and tools used by witches, made of luxury woods and metals.

“There’s no way I can get all this!”  Mammon shouted as he estimated the total.

“You can, and you will. We trust you’ll find a way,” one of them said sternly.

Another slid herself to your side, an arm drifting to wrap about your waist.  “And while you do so, we’ll just enjoy some tea with—”

“Don’t you touch my human,” hissed Mammon.  His eye flit to you, a dangerous glint in them, and he nods his head to the door in a silent order.

“Don’t you talk that way to us,” another witch hissed in return.

“Your pact is with me, not—” Mammon started to argue in return.

“Yes, it is.”  One witch calmly stated, “and by our pact, I order you to—”

Before her order could be completed, she was thrown back, the literal rug ripped out from under her. Mammon’s eyes widened and turned to see the edge of the floormat sitting in your hands.

“Time to go,” you told him.

Suddenly laid out over your shoulder, hefted about like a sack of potatoes as you ran the two of you of the building.

Mammon wasn’t sure how to feel.  He was surprised, that was for sure.  Thankful to some degree, but humiliated as well—for being the one in need of saving, for the way he was being carried (ass up).  And though he dared not admit, turned on.  He could only hope you were too busy running the two of you out of trouble to notice him at half-mast.

Leviathan

A convention has come to the Devildom and ecstatic was a massive understatement.  When the convention was announced months back, Levi was already including it in every conversation somehow.  As the weeks grew closer, his fanaticism was getting so out of control Lucifer banned him from bringing it up in the group chat, the dining table, and specifically, in Lucifer’s presence.

“Today’s the day!” Shouted Levi, as was his morning ritual of the countdown.  While he was not technically in the dining room, everyone could hear him from his room. Annoyed but relieved that finally the day had come that perhaps he’d finally shut up about it, the brothers gave a sigh of relief.

“Come on, come on, Normie!” He pounded at your door.  “We have a very strict schedule to keep!”

“Levi, you sound like Lucifer.  Give me some time to get dressed!  Honestly, if you’re this excited you might accidentally transform.”  You scolded him with laughter dancing behind your door—still refusing him entry to drag you out.  “It’ll ruin your cosplay if you do you know.  Have you even gotten changed yet?”

“I will once we eat breakfast.  I don’t want anything to get stained.  And you shouldn’t either!  Come on out!”

“Levi, I’m already half into the costume.  You want me to come out there half naked?”

Levi blushed at the thought. “N-no!  Just take it off, normie.  Get changed after!  We need a perfect picture together as Henry and the Lord of Shadows!  And we can’t have one if you’ve got food all over it.”

He heard you sigh and grumble, but he knew he was getting his way.  You had been supportive of all his enthusiasm, despite the numerous reprimanding your received from his brothers for “encouraging” and “enabling” his behavior.  You always had his back, just like Henry.

Why, you even agreed to cosplay as his Henry to his Lord of Shadows!  He thought he was having the most blissful heart attack when you suggested it.  You suggested to be his Henry.  

He could hardly wait to see you dressed, but the reveal was something he would savor, dressed in his own costume.  And it would be worth it.  Additionally, once he got his picture of the two of you in your perfectly pristine cosplays, he would be posting it and using it everywhere.  As his profile pictures, in his icons, framed in his room. He had it all planned out.

He rushed you through breakfast, through packing, and through the door.  But you took it all with a smile.  He knew you weren’t as excited about the convention as he was, but the fact that you had the patience to put up with him on this day meant the world to him. He’d already put some Grimm aside to buy you whatever you wanted at the convention as a gift of thanks.

The line was agonizingly long, even with his pre-purchased pass, and changing into your cosplays in your shared hotel room took a while more than expected.  He missed an early morning panel and went hysterical.

“Levi, you’ll ruin your cosplay if you transform,” you warn him again from the bathroom as you adjusted make up on your face to get some details just perfect for your Henry imitation.

“We should have gotten here sooner!”  He complained.  “We should have-“

“Levi, I’m ready.” You called out, interrupting him before he could rant any further.

He swallowed hard, eager to see the result.

You looked perfect.

“Well?”  You asked as you gave a small twirl for him to let him see it in whole.

“Every detail i-is, is—” His heart raced, his face reddened. It was not that your outfit was revealing, but you were cute.  You were really cute.  You were cute and in cosplay with him, for him.  It was just an outfit, but the implications hit him like a ton of bricks. He was overwhelmed, practically in tears.  Too overwhelmed, really.

He passed right out.

When he finally woke up, he realized he was slung over your back, carried through the convention halls. “W-what is happening?”  He screeched in embarrassment into your ear.

You faltered and nearly dropped him.  Quickly you adjusted him, bouncing him with your grip on thighs to get him balanced properly against you again.  “Don’t shout,” you hissed your ear ringing painfully.

“The next panel was about to start and I couldn’t let you to miss it.”  You explained as you trudged along to your next destination.  “You’ve been looking forward to this one most of all.”

Touched by the sentiment, Levi tucked his burning face into your shoulder mumbling ‘thank you’s and praises that you were a perfect Henry.

Satan

The Devildom archive is massive, and yet given its size it is still overfilled with books and shelves that line the walls up to his high ceilings.  Tall ladders that slide across the rooms on tracks in front of the shelves, to allow easy maneuvering are available, but not many.

“I can see it just there,” frowned Satan as he stared up at the dusty covered volume, embossed letters with faded and chipped gold foil labelling its spine.

On his tiptoes, reaching upwards, his fingers just barely above the shelf and his fingers graze the binding, only to push it further back on to the shelf and out of his reach.  He cursed.

“I’ll have to fetch a ladder,” he spat, turning his from side to side to spot on.  On the farthest ends of either side of him he could see a few unoccupied steps.  The trek just to fetch the damned things was an exercise in itself.  Why the hell was the archive this size with so few ladders between them?  Or rather, why wouldn’t they restrict ladders to certain sections?  Why did they have to make the process so difficult?

“Seems hardly worth the effort,” you commented, as you slipped your arms around his waist.

The action was sudden, but welcomed.  Having you wrapped about him was instantly soothing, and his temper dropped immediately. He sighed, letting out the tension, and his hand came to rest on yours.  “To get as perfect score on this essay, all efforts are worthwhile.  This time I will be top Lucifer’s standing for sure.”  He said with a nod.

With a light blush, he pushed his fingers between your digits in an attempt to hold your hand, but your hands instead tightened and gripped tight together, as if rejecting him.

Actually, your entire hold on him tightened.  His eyebrows furrowed curiously.

Next thing he knew, his feet were no longer on the ground.  His first instinct was to struggle as he was suddenly lifted into the air.  “What do you think you’re doing?”  He whisper-shouted, wide eyes trying to peer at your face behind him, rage rising with his embarrassment.

“I’m just helping!” You laughed, rubbing your cheek into his back in a reassuring gesture.  “Can you reach your book now?”

“Ah, right,” he muttered, his face heating to a deeper red as he hastily tore the book from the shelf and patted at your arm to let him down.  “A little warning next time,” he chastised with a small smile, his anger clearly evident in the way he punctuated his request.

You gave a quick “sorry” but your smile showed no real apology.  Well, he’ll have to wretch a real one out of you in a bout of punishment later.  He hoped you’ll be looking forward to it as much he was thinking of it.

Asmodeus

Your ball ensemble for Diavolo’s ball was magnificent, and Asmo, as your date wore its perfect match.  He could not be prouder of his efforts to make you both look stunning for your evening out.  He designed the outfits himself, weeks before, and today he’d spent all day preparing the two of you—hair, make up, nails, last minute tailoring.  It had been exhausting, but it was well worth it.

All eyes were on the two of you the moment you’d entered the room, and he couldn’t have been more pleased. Not that it was unusual for people to stare at him—but tonight, you were on his arm, and he felt a sense of pride that was new to him.

Because I have you. And they can only dream to.

It took a few drinks to loosen you up to the idea of dancing.

“Just one song,” he begged throughout the evening.

You smiled and promised him just the one, and at three drinks, he had finally could lead you to the dance floor for at least a slow one.  Having you in his arms was a delight, though you seemed so focused on your dancing that you were forgetting to have a good time yourself.

To lighten the mood, he made it a point to spin you, and then himself, rocking together with you before repeating the process.  A spin for you, a spin for him.  The two of you looked childish, almost ridiculous.  The type of dancing a 5-year-old’s interpretation of a fairytale dance. Asmo, a man of allure and the pinnacle of sexy, was happy to play goofy if it meant making you smile.

It took another drink to get you on the floor again, but this time it was song that was much more upbeat.  There was less concern in you now for your steps, a little sloppy, but full of joy, which is all Asmo wants.  He gave you a cocky grin before lifting you slightly into the air and spun you.

Your laughter was the best song all night.

Much to his surprise, you locked your hands on to his waist and lifted him in return, mimicking his spin. Giggling in the thrill.  Almost like a child, he asked for another spin and another, posing each time he was held up high for all to see until the song ended.

“Let’s see what else we can do with that strength of yours,” he panted, catching what breath he’d been losing in all his laughter.

“This one’s a bit of a slower one,” you commented.  “Spinning might be—”

“Oh, no, honey.  We’re done with dancing.”

Beelzebub

Beel’s a quiet guy but that didn’t mean he wasn’t affectionate.  He was a hugger and he different types of hugs for different occasions.

He gave short but firm for hellos.  He held a little longer for good byes.  Thank you’s were half hugs and pats on the back.  And I’m sorry’s were engulfing but gentle, never imposing.  For comfort, he was

But this hug was a new one. It wasn’t one he’d ever given you before.  And it wasn’t one his brothers had ever seen him do since he’d been down in the Devildom—not since Lilith.

He’d been gone for about five days—given some business direct from Diavolo to handle an incident on the other side of the Devildom with Lucifer in tow.  Lucifer returned early, but Beel remained for two days more.

When Beel finally lumbered through the door relieved to be home.  He was chilled from the rain pouring outside, hungrier than he’d ever felt in the past two decades, and in desperate need of some time to relax.

The first thing he heard was the patter of footsteps, running to meet his arrival.

“Beel, welcome home!” You shouted from the top of the stairs, laughing heartily as you came down to meet him quick as you could. Trailing behind you came Belphie, eager to meet him, but slowed down by his sin to reach him as fast as you did.

It was as if his exhaustion disappeared at seeing your smile, and your rush to meet him was so endearing, it warmed him—at least his face—instantly.

“Glad to be back,” he said with nod, opening his arms.

To his surprise you launched yourself into him, the momentum knocking into him.  To keep balance, he gave you a spin, chuckling at your excitement.

“I missed you!”  You shouted as he spun you about.

“I missed you too.”

He held you tight against him, and in response to his grip, you gripped him tightly back.

It’s an affectionate game of mimicry you two play often.  If you tap a beat on his hand, he’ll tap it back with an addition.  If you give him a kiss, he’ll give you two.  Back and forth until one of you gives.  It was a game generally played behind closed doors, but this was a special occasion—he missed you too much.  Now it was game of who can give a tighter hug.

And he was determined to win.

He adjusted his arms around you to hold you just a little lower—and then lifted you off the ground.  You giggled, pleased.  It was only for a moment before he set you down.  He grinned at you.

But his smile soon turned to shock when you in turn put your arms about his waist, lifting him and spinning.

Too stunned to respond, Beel lost the round.

“Never expected that out of you,” whistled an impressed Belphie, having finally descended down the stairs.

Beel could only nod, wide eyed in agreement.

You gave him a cocky grin, planting your hands on your hips and puffing your chest with pride.  Beel too beamed with pride at his partner’s strength.  He begins to invite you to workouts together, curious to see just how much you could lift.

Belphegor

Movie nights followed a very specific pattern.  It was a scramble to get the boys together, and just when you think you’ve settled in, someone remembers something they’ve forgotten:  popcorn, blankets, phones, chips, drinks, coasters, pillows.  And of course, the matter of seating arrangements was always a battle.  You had your designated seat, but the demons around you didn’t—each fought to take the seats beside you in some way shape or form.

“You had your turn last week!”  Fumed Levi, glaring daggers at his younger brother Belphie.

It did little to persuade the seventh born who seemed to instead nuzzled his face deeper into your lap, a hint of a teasing smirk his only answer.

Grumbles and protests eventually died down as Lucifer threatened each one into settling in.  Finally, they could all relax as the movie began to roll.

Lucifer fell asleep midway through.  Mammon and Levi shouted out quotes in bouts of laughter.  Satan shushed his elder brothers, and Asmo sighed and provided commentary on outfits and hair styles.  Beel ate most of the popcorn and chips, munching away happily.  Belphegor managed to last to its ending, but the minute the lights were brought back up, he went right to sleep, skipping the inevitable post-movie debates and commentaries by his brothers.

As it grew later into the evening, the boys slowly trickled out to their rooms to bed.  You however, remained a pillow to the cat-napping avatar.

“I’ll carry him up,” offered Beel, the last of the conscious.

“No, I’ve got it.” You told him with a smile, a hand slowly stroking through Belphie’s hair as he slept.  “I’m not quite tired yet.  I’ll leave him undisturbed for just a bit longer.”

Beel nodded, and returned to his own room.

You browsed your phone for awhile longer, one hand mindlessly running through Belphie’s soft locks.

When you were good and ready for bed, you slowly sidled out from below Belphie.  Carrying him was the easy part.  The only difficulty you had was trying not to disturb him as you slipped your hands beneath him to lift him.  You seemed to have succeeded, and Belphie was determined to let you believe it, amused that you were going to such lengths for him.

He’d been awake for some time, mostly from the time you started trailing your fingers through his hair. He didn’t dare move and let you know he was awake.  He feared you’d stop if he did.  So instead he laid and enjoyed your gentle petting him the way you might a beloved pet.

When you moved out from under him, he considered waking up to walk himself up, but the thought of you lifting him amused him greatly.  He assumed you couldn’t, and to have you try and fail to do so would be the perfect time for him to wake up and tease you.

Much to his surprise however, you lifted him with ease, carrying him all the way to his room. He would be keeping this in mind for the next time he decided it was too much trouble to make the trip himself—play dead and he can get a free ride.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #headcanon #guess who's back #took me awhile to do this one #but it was a lot of fun #tryin' to come up with ways to have the boys lifted up #as well as get them some varied reactions was an interestin' challenge #i'm so sorry this took so long

[impishnature]

Acolyte

Another quite big one! But more I’ve just been too busy, sorry! Will get another session of writing in this weekend c:

Imptober Prompts so far

AO3 Fandom: Good Omens Rating: T+ (Warning for blood, maybe some body horror?) Prompt: Forced to knees Summary: Set in @sightkeeper‘s Chosen Faces AU. (Because I have no self-control and love sandboxes and seeing if I can make them happy) An unwelcome visitor to the shop makes Aziraphale rip off his mask and show everyone just what he truly is. Crowley will not stand for this. 

.

"Tea?"

"How could I refuse?"

Crowley, busying himself with cups and drinks, preened as lips brushed his cheek, a grateful warm peck that he gladly took and leaned into. But before he could reciprocate, the other backed away from him, setting up the small kitchen table for their impromptu lunch date behind him. He could hear the clack of crockery and cutlery, the soft hum drum of domesticity that he drank in greedily, happily addicted to the shift their world had taken. He tried not to smile too widely at the small trills of joy from behind him as Aziraphale opened the bakery boxes one by one, finding all the spoils of Crowley's foray into the bustling London café that Aziraphale loved so much.

"Oh. You do spoil me, dear."

"Nah." Crowley threw back over his shoulder at the chastising tone, cheeky grin well and truly glued to his face. It was obvious when there was no sincerity in Aziraphale's words, as much as he tried to scold him, and he refused to let him play this game. "I give you exactly what you deserve, Angel." 

"Is that so? Well-" 

Whatever Aziraphale had been about to quip back to him was cut off by the sudden chime of the front door opening.

Crowley turned to him again, ever so slightly, just enough to catch his eye. His eyebrow raised slowly as he looked over his glasses at him to convey every ounce of exasperated disbelief he had in him.

"...I was sure I flipped the closed sign."

"Uh huh?"

Aziraphale huffed, looking for all the world like his feathers had been ruffled as he smoothed down his jacket. "I did! Blasted customers and ignoring signs-"

"I, for one, think you just got distracted by the thought of lunch and forgot."

Crowley chuckled as Aziraphale walked away, deigning him with a withering look as an answer before scowling deeply and shuffling into the public space of the book shop. He rolled his eyes, turning back to the kettle, sure that the poor person who had interrupted them was about to have a rather stern lesson about etiquette.

If he wasn't entirely convinced that it was Aziraphale's fault and the sign wasn't set to closed like he so obviously thought it was then he'd have had half a mind to go do it himself. But then again- he was completely sure that whoever it was out there was about to be completely blindsided by the fire that was his irrational angel.

So instead, he minded his own business- just this once- and pottered along with his own task, safe in the knowledge that a bashful Aziraphale would slink back in a few moments and he'd be able to playfully tease him with the faux pas for at least a little bit before their date. He found himself sighing happily at the scent of his favourite coffee, one that Aziraphale always made sure to have well stocked for him, as he waited for the other's inevitable shamefaced return.

He should have realised something was wrong when he didn't hear an immediate and startled apology from the shocked patron.

He blinked, a fizzle of energy sparking at the hairs on the back of his neck, pulling him from his languid thoughts and making him stand up straight. It was a strange energy, moving in odd stilted motions across his flesh like it had a mind of its own, and his tongue unconsciously slipped out to taste the air in response. It wasn't a familiar tang at the back of his throat; nothing like the mess of sulphur that accompanied demons, nor the sharp clear ozone that preceded an angelic intervention. 

This felt... older. 

Less definable. 

It didn't sit in a clear cut box and refused to stay still long enough- morphing and twisting, breaking and bending- for him to really catch hold of it.

And sure this wasn't entirely new- he'd come to terms with the fact that technically his angel wasn't what he had made himself out to be.  That maybe 'angel' wasn't a term that he should be called but suited him nonetheless. He'd worked harder than any of them to become one, to exist peacefully among them, never being caught out, so who was he to deny him that moniker? Especially when, in reality, all of them in their lofty ivory towers could never compare to Aziraphale?

Regardless though, Aziraphale's miracles were familiar to him. They were laced with everything he wished for, propped up with love and hope, and wrapped up so tightly that they were almost indistinguishable from any other miracle any of them might choose to perform. 

So Angelic or not- this was not Aziraphale. 

His pupils contracted, vision sharpening to points as his hackles raised. 

There was a threat in the bookshop. One fuelled with energy that tasted of soil and stardust, and smelt of something archaic that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It stretched back, eons and eons, barely definable even to his long time walking the earth, and filled him with a dread that seemed to seep in from outside rather than inwards, ringing through his ears as if he was hearing something he was never meant to hear.

Whatever this was, it meant to cause fear, meant to latch on and linger, cold and cloying so that fighting back was futile. 

It sharpened like a lightning bolt, a crackle of energy that caused goose bumps to dance across his skin.

And just as quickly, the energy abated, a loud yelp and a sudden thud from the adjoining room cutting the strings that it had held him by.

"Angel." He spun wildly, limbs moving faster than his brain really allowed, as gnawing, aching fear bit into his chest and ignited his nerves.

Whatever it was, it wasn't after him.

He propelled himself into the bookshop, refusing to let his brain stop him and try to persuade him to take a better route; no thoughts on safety or ambush able to coalesce when Aziraphale was in dire danger. He didn't care how much noise he was making, nor what he was walking into, only that he got there in time to help. 

Actions which promptly had him skidding to a halt as he took in the scene before him with utter perplexity.

They were just... humans.

Though at this moment, he knew better than to underestimate them, even if none of this made any sense at all.

They might not be Angels or Demons, but in this instant, they were humans who had somehow managed to bring Aziraphale to his knees. Without a struggle, without an injury to themselves. Three humans standing over his Angel, who had his arms curled around his waist in obvious pain, legs useless and splayed beneath him. He was breathing heavily, listing forward so that he could only stare down at the ground. He looked on the verge of collapsing, swaying ever so slightly with each exhale. Crowley swallowed painfully at the sight, not sure what to do or how to help, especially when the humans seemed to have frozen at the sight of him as well.

"What's... going on?"

Aziraphale groaned, one hand dropping to the floor to keep him from crumbling entirely. "The book." The words came out garbled, pained hisses through gritted teeth, but there was also something else there, something Crowley had never heard before. It was like a reverb, a tight distortion, like his mask was slipping and his human vocal chords couldn't keep up with the manifestation that might soon follow.

And as much as Crowley wouldn't care about him shucking those restraints, he refused for it to be forced by anyone.

His eyes snapped to the central figure, the book open in his hands. He hadn't even noticed it, body too focused on checking on Aziraphale, but now he knew what was causing him pain, he wouldn't be taking his eyes off of it or the one holding it anytime soon.

The man glared back at him disdainfully, grunting to the other men behind him. "Great, it has an acolyte. Should have guessed it wouldn't be alone. One of you make sure he doesn't get in the way, while I finish the ritual."

He was so... nonchalant, so calm, as if the fight had already been won. As if Crowley wasn't a threat at all and he'd already broken Aziraphale to the point of no return.

Crowley wanted to sink his fangs into him. 

How dare he.

Quick as a flash he was in front of the man, the book crashing to the floor in shock as he backed him up against a bookcase. His forearm locked against his throat, pinning him tightly as he bared his teeth.

"Who do you think you're calling an acolyte?"

The words came out as a harsh hiss, forked tongue lashing out to punctuate the words. His adversary- prey- paled, the colour leeching from him as his jaw slackened.

"Shit! It's another one! Grab the book!" 

He felt more than saw as one of the others launched for it. He snapped his fingers quickly, the book vanishing from sight with a soft puff of air, and the man who had pounced for it smacked painfully into the wooden floor. Crowley made sure to kick him for good measure to drive home the point that it would be best for him to stay down and instead turned his gaze to the last remaining enemy, one eyebrow raised, practically begging him to try something. Fortunately for him, though rather disappointing for Crowley's vicious urges, he seemed intelligent enough to know that they weren't winning this round. 

Not intelligent enough to have not come on this foolhardy mission in the first place, but that wasn't something Crowley really cared about.

He let his head roll forward again to stare at his still held victim. He wanted answers, but before he had a chance to ask for them the man seemed to shake himself, stuttering out a mantra through his constricted throat.

The ringing returned to his ears, the loamy breeze of power fluttering on the edge of his senses as it brushed ineffectually past him and dissipated into nothing. 

He pushed forward further, watching the fear cross the other's face as his words did nothing and his throat closed all the more. Crowley's grin turned vicious, his free hand slowly removing his glasses to give the man the full force of his sharp slitted gaze.

"Oh, you really have no idea what you're dealing with, do you?"

Brimstone simmered around his sharp edges, bubbling out of his very core and seeping into reality. His anger hissed out of him with every breath, smoke and ash billowing between sharp fangs, and igniting the air around him. It was hard to contain when he could still hear the pained gasps and stuttered breaths behind him. It would be so easy to be done with this, to tear them to pieces for what they had done and rush to Aziraphale's side. But he wasn't sure that would be the end of it. He needed to know what they had done. Needed to know if killing them would break whatever spell it was that coiled through his lover's bloodstream. 

But even as he tried to think clearly, to pull back, he could feel his teeth baring, the points growing thicker and sharper as scales erupted down his spine, ready to snap and lash out, his body poised to spring into action at the smallest hint of movement. 

The man in his grasp choked, the sound a diminutive wheeze as he thrashed half-heartedly at his arm. 

The sound seemed to grab someone else's attention.

"Cr-Crowley, stop."

Crowley tried to swallow the viscous anger lodged in his throat, the constricting mass that wanted him to snarl and hiss instead of vocalise his thoughts cohesively. "Why should I?"

"Because I-I need-"

And just like that the anger broke.

Nothing mattered more than what Aziraphale needed. 

Crowley took a step back, letting the man drop, panting and heaving, to the floor in a heap. "Don't move." His head snapped to the only one still standing, who flinched, cowering at the sudden movement. "That goes for you too."

And with that warning given, he ignored them all, rushing to Aziraphale's side, the desperate need to do so finally winning out now that he'd been called for. He knelt before him, pulled him up to prop against his arms from his curled position, and stared deeply into his eyes, willing him to let him help. "What do you need, love?" His gaze shifted from place to place, swallowing down the burn of fury that wished to take hold of him again. He took in the pallid complexion, the sheen of sweat across his brow- the white glow of barely restrained power illuminating his eyes. He combed his hand through his hair, slipping an out of place curl back behind his ear even as it vibrated against his fingers. "I'm here, what do you need?"

"I need-" Aziraphale swallowed, closing his eyes as another spasm of pain swept through him. He cursed. "They've set off a chain reaction. I can't- I need to heal." He said the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth, like the mere suggestion was disgusting, too disturbing to even think about.

"That's good. Healing is good." The words came out of him fast, pouring out in a thick wave of comfort as he ran a hand up and down Aziraphale's twitching arm. "So what do we need to do, to do that?"

Aziraphale took a deep breath in, steeling himself as he locked eyes with Crowley, determined and commanding. "You need to leave." The moment broke just as quickly as he looked away from him, face guilty and pained. "B-But make-" He winced, eyes screwed shut. "Make sure they can't."

That... wasn't what he had been expecting.

"I'm not leaving you alone with them."

There was no debate in his assertion. It was as simple as needing air to breathe. Aziraphale was not dealing with this alone, plain and simple.

Aziraphale's shaking hand found his, where it had dropped to the floor, and gave it a soft squeeze. "I... I don't want you to see me- not... not like that." 

Oh.

Of course.

As much as Crowley knew, Aziraphale still only ever showed him the face that he had chosen. 

But right now, he wasn't sure whose benefit that was for.

Crowley turned his hand so that their palms were together, giving a tighter, reassuring squeeze in return.

"Whatever you need to do, I'm not going to judge you. They attacked you."

Aziraphale growled, a deep reverberating sound that vibrated through Crowley's teeth and made his jaw ache, echoing with the power of all the eons that he had kept it in check. His bright glimmering eyes locked with Crowley's, a sudden surge of power breaking through the pain as he tried to desperately convey everything that he was trying to, with as little words as he could stand to force through gritted teeth.

"Crowley. I need- I need to feed."

Crowley stared right back at him, feeling the energy in the room shift and bend ever so slightly. There was a spike of fear behind him, but the pair just continued to stare at one another, ignoring them as they silently questioned each other. Aziraphale seemed to be waiting for his permission, some kind of sign, his eyes glowing brighter and his aura stretching further and further around them, tendrils slipping unseen through the air to slink and shuffle towards his meal. But it was obvious from the hesitance, the slowly permeating atmosphere, that he would go no further than this until either Crowley left or approved.

So Crowley gave him exactly what he needed.

The locks to the doors and windows clicked loudly one by one, snapping to attention as the curtains closed and the room descending into an unnatural darkness.

Crowley's eyes gleamed gold in the light that Aziraphale cast off, the moon reflecting the suns rays, locked in their own miniature universe. 

"Then feed."

It was like a switch flicked with his words.

The room hushed, a cold dampness filling up the empty spaces. The white light took on a strange unnatural hue, a shift that made Crowley's eyes burn ever so slightly like he was seeing something he shouldn't; colours that he had no right to perceive. It was an intangible thing, like they had slipped to the bottom of the ocean and it was clogging up his senses, his lungs filling with water, the taste of salt sticking to the roof of his mouth and the back of his throat with every uncomfortable suffocating breath. 

And before him Aziraphale was an angler fish, eyes bioluminescent as they grounded him in place, humbled him as he powerlessly knelt against the wooden floor.

But he didn't feel afraid, not like he was sure that he was supposed to.

Aziraphale watched him intently, eyes flicking ever so as if drinking it all in. He felt seen, in a way he never had before, so very vulnerable if it weren't Aziraphale that was reading every inch of his psyche. But instead he just saw his Aziraphale, not a monster, not something wishing to tear him down piece by piece. This wasn't some horrifying realisation or proof, it was just- Aziraphale. So, he stared back at him defiantly, his heartbeat thudding in his chest and willed him to see deeper, to know that no matter what happened here, nothing between them would change. He would still see him as he was, he accepted all of him, angel or not. 

And with that acceptance bleeding out of every pore, Aziraphale leaned in for a kiss, far more biting than he ever had before.

"Please try not to look, my dear."

 And with that, Aziraphale stood. It was a disjointed affair, like his body was a puppet that he was haphazardly forcing along strings he was unfamiliar with. Crowley found it hard to look at him, though still tried, regardless of Aziraphale's soft plea. The image doubled, tripled, conjoined, overlapping versions of him that snapped back to one solid piece only to melt apart all over again in strange erratic bursts. There was a buzzing at the base of his skull, growing louder and louder the more he stared even as the other walked past him without looking back. 

He could still see his Angel, at the centre of the haze of power, but it was hard to keep track of him amongst all the sweeping swirls of that same strange power that he had felt from the book before. It was still inherently Aziraphale however. The sharp smell of ozone still slipped through the air at intervals to mix with the scent of earth and that same solid tang of archaic power that reminded him of the darkness before the stars.

And even though he knew he should be horrified, should be fearful of all that Aziraphale was, he couldn't help but notice the hints that made this power so him. Where the book had smelt of dirt and decay, this felt like life. Soil after the rain, cut grass- 

The mingling energy of an eldritch being that so desperately wanted to choose to be good-

An angel that had earned his place-

Crowley couldn't ignore all of that, just because of what he was underneath his mask, when you peeled back the layers to his core. 

Because underneath all those layers, he was still just Aziraphale- plain and simple.

And these people had hurt him.

What kind of demon would he be, if he didn't encourage him to defend himself? To punish them for their sins?

A sharp cry brought him back to reality.

He didn't really know what was happening, only seeing Aziraphale's back, moving in and out of focus, but whatever he was showing to the humans was making quick work of their mental states. They seemed to be contorting, doing everything they could to move away from the view before them but with nowhere to go.

More fool them for trying to hurt him.

The buzzing in his ears came back the longer he stared, stretching around his skull in a band of vibrating discomfort. Perhaps it wasn't what they saw so much as the aura that he was producing, the energy pouring out of him in waves that hit him the longer he tried not to blink. One by one, the men crumpled without so much as being touched and he heard the breath in that Aziraphale took, the one that seemed to suck the life in with it and pulled at his essence in an uncomfortable manner.

The atmosphere slowly dissipated, as if the plug had been pulled out and it was spiralling inwards, withdrawing back into Aziraphale's frame as he took another unsteady step and started to collect himself. Crowley felt something warm run down his neck, shivering at the sensation as he rubbed at it in disgusted confusion. 

"I told you not to look, dear."

Aziraphale sighed, shaking his head exasperatedly before looking at him with concern and slight worry.

"You told me to try." Crowley gave him a toothy grin, before glancing down at the red, viscous liquid he was smearing around his fingertips. "Didn't expect to bleed from it."

"Well, I wasn't quite sure what I would do to a demon." Aziraphale was in front of him in an instant, eyebrows furrowed as he produced a handkerchief and began to run it over Crowley's neck and up towards his ears. "As you can see, I drive humans quite mad. Not that I make that a habit." 

"Angel." Crowley's hand found his, making him look him in the eye for the first time. "I know that. You wouldn't have done this if you didn't need to."

Aziraphale's hand shook beneath his, the handkerchief dropping to the floor before he leant forward resting their foreheads together. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to- whatever they did to me hurt. I've never felt like that before, so close to actually- and I couldn't just heal like I normally would, I needed to give in to-"

"Shh." Crowley pulled him in closer. "Shh, It's OK." 

"It's not but thank you." Aziraphale pulled back, still shaking. "We need to deal with them-"

"Not right now." 

Aziraphale huffed. "At least let me seal that book up."

"Can't. It's already burning." 

"Crowley." Aziraphale gave him a disappointed glare. "You can't just burn a book like that. It's probably one of a kind, rarer than most books I have in here."

"Yeah, well, I let you do what you had to do, so-" Crowley punctuated his sentence, drawing the word out petulantly, before looking back up at him. "-you'll have to let me do what I have to do too." His face softened, concern filtering through as he cupped Aziraphale's cheek. "I don't want anyone to be able to hurt you like that ever again."

Aziraphale melted against his palm, Crowley inwardly crowing at the victory. "Alright, you do have a point. Perhaps I should let you dispose of similar parchments I have hidden away throughout the years." 

"Sounds like a plan, but one for later. For now-" Crowley gave him a grin as Aziraphale tiredly looked back up at him. 

"How about we have that lunch we were meant to be having?"

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #crowley #Aziraphale #imptober 2020

[siren-queen-imagines]

What Happens On the Announce Table...

I’m going through the Wayback Machine and bringing over some fics that I wrote when I was imaginingwwesuperstars!! Well, at least what they have archived…and has been edited since the original post…I hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist

**SMUT WARNING**

You sat on top of the announce table, just hanging out, as you watched Dean and Roman messing around in the ring when they were supposed to be warming up. This was one of their rituals: before the doors open, they would get into the ring, run the ropes, practice some moves on each other and what not. You sitting on the announce table watching your friends became a ritual too. It calmed you down to sit and watched what went on in that ring…it helped clear your mind.

“Hey you.” A soothing southern drawl called to you. You looked over to see your boyfriend, AJ, walking over to you and sitting next to you. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I’m doing good. You?”

“Yeah, same. So you ready for your match tonight?”

Tonight, you were set to face Alexa Bliss and your best friend Naomi in a triple threat match to become number one contender, alongside Becky Lynch (who had beaten Natalya and Carmella), to become Smackdown’s first Women’s Champion. The winner of your match would face Becky at Summerslam…and you wanted that championship…really bad. You hadn’t gotten to be NXT Women’s Champion so it just made you hungrier for it.

“Yeah. As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You talk to Naomi yet?”

“Yup. We both know that no matter the outcome, there’s no hard feelings and if one of us wins, we’ll be cheering on the other…even though we love Becky to death.” You and AJ exchanged a chuckle. “What about you? You ready for Cena on Sunday?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’ve been waiting for this one for a while.”

“Good. If anyone can beat him, I know it’s you.”

You leaned over and rest your head on his shoulder. AJ turned to kiss the top of your head as you watched Roman land a spear on Dean. You cringed, knowing how much that one hurt Dean as he laid on the mat with his arms around his midsection.

“Good one.” Dean grunted, his eyes squeezed shut. “That was a good one.”

“Come on, I didn’t hit you that hard.” Roman said, smiling as he remained on his knees, catching his breath.

“Sounded like it was hard enough, Rome.” You called out from your spot.

“Yeah. Hard enough.” Dean agreed, turning to lay on his side.

“You’re supposed to be on my side here, Y/N. Always.” Roman replied to you. “We had an agreement.”

“Yeah, but look at him. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet.”

“Because you broke the rules of the agreement, when we get back to visit my parents, you’re not allowed to have any of my mom’s famous brownies. They go to me now.”

“Oh, come on, Roman! I love your mom’s brownies!” You lifted your head from AJ’s shoulder, your hands going over your heart.

“You should’ve thought about that before you broke the rules of the agreement. You agreed that if you didn’t honor the rules, I could decide your punishment.”

“Oh…dammit.”

You pouted as you laid your head back down on AJ’s shoulder. You didn’t have a viable comeback because you knew he was right. There was an agreement in place only because you had done something super embarrassing that you didn’t want anyone outside of Roman, Dean and AJ knowing about…Dean and AJ only knew because Roman needed witnesses to the deal made to keep things quiet.

Now because of the deal…when Roman took you and Dean to visit his parents (you guys met Roman’s parents because you had been travel buddies after the Shield debuted and his parents wanted him to invite you guys to a barbecue they were having on your days off. They wanted to meet who he’s been spending so much time with and Roman thought it was a good idea), you had to miss out on Roman’s mom’s famous brownies. You loved those damn brownies too…so flavorful and moist…the way a brownie should taste.You wished that Roman had decided to wait it out until next week so he wouldn’t have even thought of this despicable punishment. He wouldn’t have even been here, he would’ve went straight home after Raw last night.

“Alright, we’re gonna head back now. See you in a while?” Dean asked, finally getting up and directing the question at you and AJ.

“Yeah, man. We’ll be there in a bit. I’m gonna run through some moves with this one anyway, to make sure she’s ready for tonight.” AJ replied.

Dean nodded as he and Roman left the ring and went to the back.

“I didn’t agree to that.” You told him.

“I know, Y/N.” AJ said, moving to stand in front of you and in between your legs. “I just thought we could have a little fun before the show starts.”

“Out here?” You asked as AJ started placing gentle kisses on your neck. “What if someone sees us?”

“Don’t worry. Before I came out here, I let everyone know I called the ring next. They won’t bother us.”

You ran your hands through AJ’s hair with a sigh as his hands ran down your chest and went to your waist. He lightly sucked on your spot as his hands went under your shirt, eager to feel your soft skin against his hands. You tugged on AJ’s hair to pull him away from your neck so you can join your lips with his.

AJ’s hands left your skin as he pulled away from you to remove your shirt. He then lowered the straps to your ring top, kissing down your shoulders as he pushes to down to your waist, freeing your breasts from their confines.

“Oh, so these are the moves you planned to teach her, huh?” Dean asked, grabbing the water bottle and phone he had left in the corner of the ring, with a smirk on his face. “Had I known that, I would’ve stuck around and watched.”

AJ was standing in front of you, already covering you so you had no reason to worry. You closed your eyes for a moment, slightly embarrassed at being caught by Dean but also weighing out an option. Maybe AJ would go for it considering that it was a fantasy of yours…you had voiced it out loud to him and AJ didn’t sound too put off by the idea. To be honest, you always believed Dean would be the perfect choice to try it with.Your eyes opened and you gave AJ a look and he immediately knew what you were thinking. He smirked at you for a moment and gave you a short nod, leaning in and kissing your neck, continuing where he left off.

“Why watch, Ambrose? You can just join us.” You told him, lightly moaning when AJ began to play with your breasts.

Dean’s smirk faded for a moment. You caught him completely off guard.

“What, are you serious?” Dean asked in surprise.

You couldn’t help but smile at him and motion him over with your index finger. Suddenly Dean seemed to turn giddy as he got out of the ring and came over to you and AJ. AJ had lowered down and kissed his way down your stomach as your lips met Dean’s.You ran your hands through his messy, but soft hair, moaning into his mouth when AJ’s fingers crept their way into your shorts, playing with your clit as he kissed the inside of your thighs.

You reached down, palming Dean’s erection through his pants, earning a moan from him while his fingers combed into your hair. AJ came back up and watched you and Dean for a moment, pulling you off the table. Your kiss with Dean broke as AJ stood you up, pulling down your shorts. Dean unbuckled his belt and undid the button on his jeans as AJ did the same. You kissed AJ once more before kneeling down between them, grasping at both their cocks. You stroked on Dean’s cock as you turned to lick the tip of AJ’s, his groan filling the air between the three of you. You took the head of his cock into your mouth, suckling for a moment before taking as much of him in your mouth as possible. Dean put his hand over yours, guiding you to slightly quicken your strokes as he watched you suck on AJ’s cock.

You continued to work on AJ’s cock for a few more moments before turning to Dean’s and giving his the same treatment. You stroked AJ as he watched you busying yourself with Dean. He threaded his fingers into your hair and pushed you to take Dean’s cock a little more into your mouth. Dean had unconsciously began to gently thrust into your mouth, causing you to take even more of him. 

AJ seemed to be enjoying the sight of Dean’s cock in your mouth because he increased your speed for you. It was one thing to watch you with his own in your mouth but it was a whole new ball game for him watch you with someone else’s….he found it so erotic to see you in your position. He wasn’t even worried about jealousy anymore.

AJ pulled you away from Dean and bent you over the table. He positioned himself at your entrance and immediately buried himself inside you. You cried out, smile on your face as he grabbed at your hair.

“Fuck…”AJ drawled as he took a moment to feel you around him.

You moaned at the feeling of AJ deep inside you, watching as Dean positioned himself in front of you on the table, stroking himself. You didn’t need to be guided as you took Dean’s cock back into your mouth, your movements being guided by AJ’s thrusts. Your moans vibrated around Dean, adding to his pleasure as AJ reached around you and played with your clit.

“Fuck, Y/N…you mouth is fucking magic.” Dean said as your moans became more frequent.

You looked up at Dean, watching as his head fell forward, his eyes closed with concentration etched on his face. It looked like he was trying to think of something else so that he wouldn’t cum just yet. Before you knew it, you felt AJ pulling out of you and helping you onto the table. Dean turned you around, laying you on your back in front of him as your head dangled off the side. You cried out in pleasure once more when Dean entered you. You were also at level with AJ’s cock where you happily took him into your mouth.

You joyfully laid on top of the announce table as Dean pounded your pussy and AJ fucked your mouth. How did you get so lucky? You felt so overwhelmed with pleasure that you knew you’d be reaching your end really soon.

“Oh, yeah…yeah, Y/N, I’m gonna cum.” AJ told you, using his right hand to reach and pinch on one of your nipples.

You moaned onto his cock as he pumped faster and faster.

“Shit, I’m cumming too.” Dean grunted.

You cried out over AJ’s cock when Dean played with your clit, his thrusts becoming more desperate each time.

“Fuck…fuck…baby!” AJ moaned as he exploded in your mouth.

You continued sucking him, wanting every last drop that he could give you. He slowly pulled out of your mouth, panting heavily.

“Fuck, Dean!” You whimpered out as you came.

You continuously moaned as Dean kept pounding into you.

“Oh shit, Y/N!” Dean groaned.

Your pussy contracting around his cock became too much for him. He quickly pulled out of you and continued stroking himself, cumming all over your stomach. You laid there for a moment, breathless, but smiling. This was better than you could have hoped for.

Dean pulled off his shirt and cleaned the mess he made on your stomach. AJ helped you sit up before putting his pants back on, Dean following his lead.

“So, that was completely out of nowhere.” Dean commented as he buckled his belt. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Yeah, it was, um…sort of a fantasy of mine.” You admitted, going to grab your ring shorts from the ground.

“By all means, should your fantasies involve anything requiring another cock, please feel free to call me.”

AJ couldn’t help the chuckle that left his mouth. He actually did need his help with you again…not to admit, he kinda enjoyed sharing you with Dean…mostly because Dean wasn’t super selfish and not a douche about sharing you with him. Dean could’ve tried to get you all to himself just to get off and that was it…but he made sure you got off with them. He needed Dean’s help because AJ wanted to try out a fantasy of his that he didn’t even realize he had until your guy’s session. He wanted to see you take them both inside you…he wanted to see you take Dean in your pussy while he took your ass…he wanted to push the envelope a bit for you because he loved watching you in the throes of pleasure.

“Then maybe you should come by the hotel tonight…I have some plans for this one before she leaves with you guys tomorrow.” AJ told Dean, playfully smacking you on your bare butt.

#aj styles imagine #aj styles x reader #aj styles smut #dean ambrose imagine #dean ambrose x reader #dean ambrose smut #wwe imagine #wrestling imagine

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

The Catch [2]

Summary: As one of the best CIA agents, Ethan is tasked with taking out a new target, which gets complicated when he realized his new target is his loving girlfriend.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing

The Catch - Series Masterlist

Life was never black and white for Y/N Y/L/N, she always saw it in various shades of grey and she maneuvered her way through the best she could. She was barely 18 when she realized her potential, her particular set of skills and it didn't take long before she found a way to do what she does best.

Men were easy. She always saw them as puppets on a string, having them wrapped around her finger like a ring. But Ethan Dolan was a dash of different, of color in the grey she had gotten used to. Naturally charming, charismatic and undeniably handsome, Ethan was a magnet that pulled her in close and now? She didn't know if anything was real - if she meant a damn thing to him and the assassin inside her didn't want to know. The assassin wanted blood, to complete her mission.

She took pride in her success rate, undeniably the best, most ominous assassin in the world and when men realized a woman held the title, it only made it better - it gave her immense pleasure and power. She was drunk on adrenaline and sought ways of making herself more infamous every day.

Perhaps that's why she decided to continue her streak and create a trap for her boyfriend. Or is it her ex-boyfriend now? She shrugged as she adjusted her scope, her finger happily twitching on the trigger, hoping he'd soon come home and she won't have to wait for long.

But she did wait.

Hours passed and Ethan didn't come home and her patience started to dwindle. Until she heard a gun cock at the back of her head and her eyes rolled back in her head so far she could see her brain at that point. There's nothing more annoying than your target outsmarting you and for Y/N, there was nothing more demeaning than losing a game so quickly.

"Are you not going to shoot?" She turned around casually, already aware it's Ethan. There's no one on her level but him and she respected his willpower greatly. But she truly loved the way his gear fit him - a little too SWAT-like but she still found it sexy.

"Damn, had I known you have that lying around I'd have role-played sooner." Chuckling, she raised an eyebrow. Licking her lips, Y/N tilted her head to the left, a playful smirk upon her lips, so unbothered as if he isn't holding a gun to her head and it frustrates Ethan endlessly. She doesn't even see him as a threat. She's still acting like a girlfriend, his girlfriend, instead of the murderous assassin he's meant to take care of and it makes it that much harder.

Assuming she's aware of it, Ethan furrows his eyebrows and clenches his jaw, tightens his grip on the gun and presses it against her forehead menacingly.

"I'd watch my mouth if I were you. Last I checked I hold the power here." He grumbled, his voice low and dark and so inviting despite the danger in his eyes. In fact, Y/N found she likes the danger in those dark chocolate orbs she adored.

"Not the first time I'm on my knees with you pointing a hard thing at my face." Retorting, Y/N pulled herself up to stand, brushing her ass from dirt, refusing to break eye contact as she purses her lips to stop herself from smiling.

"You and I both know you won't shoot."

Ethan's gaze hardens and his eyes narrow as his nostrils flare, aware she's baiting him. Perhaps this whole thing was a display of her power over him and he walked into her trap willingly? Either way, Ethan held the gun yet he felt she was holding all the power.

"Yeah? Why not?" His sarcastic, impatient tone alerted her and she knew he was nervous and she was right once again.

Shrugging, she averts her gaze to the left, toward the sunset with a small smile.

"If you wanted me dead, I would be dead before I heard you cock the gun. Or you could have shot me dead the moment I opened the door that night." Slyly, she steps closer and rises her right hand to meet the one he had on the gun. Without even flinching, Ethan allows her hand to linger before he drops his hand by his side to avoid prolonging contact. Her touch is too intoxicating even when it's innocent as a touch of her hand on his.

"This is the second time you could have killed me and yet you failed. Why is that Ethan?"

That was certainly a good question, one he asked himself all the time because this isn't him! He's efficient and capable of controlling his emotions. He's used to numbing himself into an emotionless machine that gets the job done but ever since he saw her photo in that file along with an alias? It killed him - agent Doomsday perished.

"I only had that one chance, while you had two which makes me the better assassin, agent Doomsday." Giggling, she explained. "My failure was singular while yours are becoming a habit which means my record is still better than yours." Folding her hands behind her head, Y/N's chest thrusted forth enough to accentuate her breasts and attracts Ethan's attention. But her words impacted him harder than he anticipated, for the thing he used to boast about? His impeccable record would be tainted if he let her go. It's more than his record and his reputation, but about who she is and what she does. He can't let her walk free and he can hardly stomach the thought of her dying. He's damned either way.

"We took down two of your friends. You're last." Ethan gives her a tight-lipped smile as he lowers his head, whispering.

"And I always complete my missions." Before she knew it, the barrel of his gun pressed against her rib cage, just above her heart.

"Perhaps, but your mission won't end with me. There are a lot more of us around the world. We take care of the scum, the rich fat fucks you and CIA protect at the expense of the world's population. We will never stop. Cut one head off and two more will grow in its place." Y/N spoke quickly with determination, fully prepared to die for the cause, Ethan could tell. She made her peace with it, almost as if she hoped it would happen. And she did. If she had to die, she'd want it to be in his arms. Despite it all Y/N really loved Ethan Dolan and while she never said it outright, she really fucking did.

"Was I just a job?" Ethan's asks quietly, almost like a plea for her to give him a reason not to pull the trigger. He wanted her to apologize, but she had no remorse and Ethan realized it's because she believes she's the good guy. He's the villain in her story.

Pulling back, Ethan forced himself to look into her eyes and the playful assassin was gone. He only saw her - his girl, the one he missed dearly even if an hour passed...the one he wanted to share his life with and though he wanted to tell her he loved her, he never did. Ethan assumed him asking her to move in meant she knew it. He assumed her accepting in their second month of dating meant she loves him too.

He wasn't so sure anymore. He couldn't tell what was real and what was fake. And he really fucking hoped they were more than that because she felt like the realest thing in his life - his anchor.

And while he expected to see the vicious look of a murderer in her eyes, all he saw were tears too stubborn to fall and his own clouded his vision of her - her beauty surpassing the beautiful sunset just behind her.

"I gave you my real name, Ethan. You are the only living human being who knows it now. Does that sound like a job?"

"What am I supposed to do now?! Huh?!" Shouting, more at himself than her, Ethan felt madness slipping in. How could he harm her when he couldn't live without her? How could he let her go when his life was as stake? Both professional and private because he could survive his supervisors demoting him but not seeing her again didn't feel doable.

Biting her lower lip, Y/N boldly cupped his face and gently pulled herself up on her tiptoes. Instinctively, Ethan leans down, his lips brushing hers before smashing together with fervor. Losing his breath as he lets her take over and dominate the kiss, Ethan let his worries subside. She always had that power and he would use it to ease his mind and be in the moment.

Even when she broke the kiss, allowing their foreheads to rest on each other tenderly, their breaths mining and noses touching, Ethan felt their relationship is right.

"I love you." She whispered. "That's why I have to do this." And before Ethan had a chance to react, she let the needle stick into his neck, emptying the contents fully as she laid him on the ground slowly, gently.

The betrayal in his eyes would haunt her, but she had to make the choice for him. He's too straight and narrow to make it himself without losing his mind either way, but she's used to being the wicked one. She can love him and still let him go, even if she's not sure what life is without him. He was the beacon of light and without him the darkness would claim her.

Leaning down to kiss his forehead once again, she decides this isn't her choice anymore - Ethan isn't the bad guy she needs to eliminate, it's someone much higher in the hierarchy. With sorrow, she smiles once more before leaving her love temporarily paralyzed on the roof of a building she was meant to aim for his head, whispering through her doubt and grief as they collide together.

"Don't forget me, handsome."

Tags: @mendesficsxbombay @beinscorpio @peacedolantwins @godlydolans @dolandolll @heyits-claire @ethanhes

#dolan twins #ethan dolan #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan fanfic #ethan dolan au #ethan dolan x you #ethan dolan fanfiction #ethan dolan fic #ethan dolan fluff #ethan dolan angst