#so he grumps in the corner wishing he could fix things

[constellaris-a]

   sometimes i think about how i’d like to see diluc actually find love,  find someone he can trust in and let his walls down around,  but then i remember he’s so closed off and untrusting that he hardly likes talking to people on a good day and he just wants to sleep but is too busy and stressed to even get enough of that.

#⋞ diluc ⊳ in character ⋟ #he's just a soft boy... damaged soft boy... worries about his brother but doesn't know how to approach him #so he grumps in the corner wishing he could fix things #also wants to hold hands w someone.... doesn't feel he deserves it

[tropes-and-tales]

Cute as a June Bug

December 14:  Mistletoe/Hands - Fake dating (Horacio Carrillo x F!reader)

(From the winter prompts found here)

CW:  The post convoluted plot point yet; fluff; pining; no edits, just posted straight from the first draft

Word Count:  1322

AN:  Requested by two separate anons!

It’s humiliating.  It’s a humiliating situation for any man, let alone the head of the Search Bloc.  

He’s not a child.  He’s a goddamned man, and yet…here he is, in this humiliating position.

“You look nice, boyfriend,” you tell him, and then you snort, laugh at your own joke.  You reach out to straighten his tie, but he bats your hands away with a grumble.

“Stop it,” Horacio says.  “Drop the act until we need it.”

“Until you need it, you grump.”  You turn to the mirror in your entryway and lean close to the glass as you study your lipstick.  You drag a fingertip against your lower lip, fix a line.  “Remember, I’m only here because you asked.”

He wishes you wouldn’t remind him.  After his divorce from Juliana, Horacio had enjoyed (maybe not enjoyed, exactly) a period of quiet.  A period of resetting, of regrouping.

And then his mother launched her assault:  Adella Carrillo couldn’t rest until her youngest son was settled in a new marriage, and she had called him constantly with the names of available women she knew.  Women eager to meet her handsome, important son, women willing to overlook his atrocious hours and difficult work…

Horacio Carrillo is a tough man, but he never could withstand the barrages from his mother.  He snapped a month in, lied.  Said he was seeing someone.

The lie, like many lies, spun out of control.  Each conversation with his mother required more details.  He was steadily backed into the corner, and most of the lies…well, he works with you.  It was an easy thing to talk to his mother on the phone from his office while gazing out across the bullpen at you.  

It was easy to supply the lies with details about you.  Your name.  Your job with the Americans, the agent with the DEA who focuses on intel, working with the CIA.  What you look like.

Hell, Carrillo even knows enough of your likes and dislikes to provide those too.

But then his mother pulls her master stroke:  an invitation to the family Christmas party, and Carrillo is trapped like a rat.

-----

He’ll only find out later why you agree to it.  You hide it so well, your crush on him—he never even guesses.  You only tell him later, an entire year later when you’re his girlfriend and soon to be his fiancée.  You only admit it moments before he offers you the ring and moments before you accept it.

When he asks you to pose as his fake girlfriend, though, you give him a sly grin and ask what’s in it for you.  He offers you money, offers you better hours and days off, but you wave him away and say you’ll do it for nothing.

His first clue, then.  He misses it entirely.

-----

“You do look nice,” you repeat now, and your voice loses its teasing edge.  You look at him earnestly, and he feels some of his anxiety bleed off.  You won’t let this go sideways on him.  He trusts you when you’re in the field.  He trusts the intel you give them—always good, golden stuff.

He trusts you now.

“You look nice too,” he replies.  You do:  he used to seeing you in jeans and button-down camp shirts, but you’re in a wrap dress and heels, red lipstick and hair done.  

“So one more time.  How long have we been seeing each other?” you ask, and you watch his reflection in the mirror.

“Six months.”

“And you asked me out.”

He smiles.  “Yes.”

“Our first date.  You took me to a steakhouse.”

“That’s right.”  A beat, and then he lists out the things he’s told his mother about you—all the intel he had at the time.  You nod at each detail and only correct him on one bit, the number of siblings you have.

“Here’s the million dollar question, Horacio,” you say, still watching him in the mirror.  “Why did you decide to ask me out?”

The lies work best when they are nearest to the truth, so that’s what he does.  

“I asked you out because you’re smart and good at your job.  And you make me laugh.”

That pulls a laugh out of you.  “I’ve never heard you laugh in my life.  I’m lucky to get a smile.”

“That’s because you only know me at work.”  He reaches past you and opens your door, then gestures for you to walk through it.  “I’m a different man with my family.”

“Oh, family Carrillo,” you tease, but you let him lay his hand on your lower back and gently steer you out to the street.  “He’s a nicer guy than Search Bloc Carrillo.  That guy could crack granite with his steely gaze.”

He ignores your teasing.  “Remember to be careful with the idioms and slang.  My family speaks English well but it’s formal.”

“So I can’t say that I think you’re as cute as a June bug?”

He glances at you.  “My family won’t know what a June bug is.  I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a giant beetle.”

“Doesn’t sound cute at all,” he grumbles.

-----

You interrogate each other on the drive to his parents’ house, and while Carrillo is nervous, he’s pleasantly surprised to find that it’s not that bad.  He’s not riddled with anxiety.  Despite your teasing, you’ve put him at ease.

At his childhood home, he parks and then comes around to the passenger’s side of the car to open your door.  He takes your hand to help you out, but when he goes to release it, you hold him fast.

“Is this okay?” you ask.  “Too much PDA if we hold hands?”

“No, it’s…”  He clears his throat.  “It’s good.”

Just outside the door, you pause and turn to him.  You offer him a reassuring smile, and there’s a warmth there that dissipates any lingering nervousness.

“This is going to go well,” you tell him.  “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.  Company manners only.”

He returns your smile with his own.  “I know.  I trust you.”  He hesitates and adds, “I appreciate this.”

“Of course.”  You squeeze his hand, then tilt your head at the door.  “Now go introduce your smart girlfriend who’s good at her job and makes you laugh to your family.”

-----

The party does go well, as you said it would.  You charm his family with your good manners, your humor.  You tease him gently, which charms his mother in particular:  she’s always said that Horacio is too serious, so she’s happy that he’s with someone who can chip away at that reserve.

You enter the party as his fake girlfriend, a coworker doing him a favor, but that hard line already starts to crumble.  Near the end of the night when you’re tipsy on wine and he’s loose and warm from the success of his coup and the convivial nature of the party, you catch yourselves lingering in a doorway.  He has his arm around your waist, lightly resting his hand on your hip, and your head is tilted against his shoulder.  You’re watching the party from the sidelines, but one of Horacio’s teenaged nieces notices what you each have missed.

“Mistletoe,” she says, pointing above your heads.  “You have to kiss her, Tío.”

You’re tipsy on wine, and Horacio guesses that’s why you tilt your head up to him with a shy smile.  He’s tipsy on the moment—and later on, after he’s dropped you off at your apartment and he’s home in his bed alone, he’ll admit it:  he’s tipsy on you too.  A surprising thing, how perfect you feel against him.

“It’s the rules,” he tells you softly with a shrug.  

“You’re nothing if not a stringent rule-follower,” you reply, and you gift him with the barest of nods, an invitation.

So he bends his head and follows the rules:  he kisses you.

#horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo imagine #horacio carrillo x reader #colonel horacio carrillo #colonel horacio carrillo x reader #colonel Carrillo #colonel carrillo x reader #colonel carrillo imagine #narcos #tropes-and-tales #winter prompts 2022

[littlemisspascal]

Little Red’s Shadow Part 2

Pairing: Werewolf Pero Tovar x Female!Reader

Word Count: 5500+

Summary: Conclusion and Follow up of Part 1

Warnings: no beta all mistakes are my own, language, werewolf/shapeshifter AU with little red riding hood elements, creepy handsy drunk guy, pining, angst, drama, confessions, reader’s father makes a cameo

Author Note: I am so so unbelievably blown away by the incredible support Part 1 of this fic received. Never ever did I anticipate the encouragement and fanart and kindness sent my way. You are all so amazing and sweet and I love each of you so much it’s ridiculous. Just like the first part, this conclusion is just as self-indulgent and fingers crossed someone out there likes this as much as I do 💗💗💗

“The wolves are never meant to be anything other than defending. They’re not meant to be aggressors.” -- Joe Carnahan

The tavern is crowded tonight.

That’s the first thing you notice when you enter, nervously picking at the hem of your blouse while looking around the dimly lit room for Pero. There are a couple of booths lining the back walls and some tables arranged in the center close to the bar. Overhead the ceiling is high with lightbulbs hanging from strings attached to wooden beams. 

Some of your fellow villagers offer words of greeting when you step past them on your way towards the bar, and you politely smile back at them, trying not to let your disappointment show that none of them are the one you truly want to see. 

William approaches you after you’ve ordered a drink, sliding onto the stool next to yours with a bright enough smile you suspect he’s had more than a few pints already this evening. 

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that your quarrel with Pero is over,” he says while motioning at the bartender for another drink. “His doom and gloom wasn’t good for business.”

You frown, brow creasing with worry. “You didn’t consider firing him, did you?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “He’s a grump, but when he’s focused he works well. Especially after he gets back from his lunch break.”

A snort of laughter escapes you, recalling several times you’d visited the blacksmith shop early in the morning before dawn and caught Pero stuffing his face with breakfast. He ate like he had no clue where his next meal was coming from, ravenously tearing apart strips of bacon with his teeth with the same ferocity as a wild animal. 

“He is quite a fan of food.”

“Actually, he usually takes off into the woods,” William corrects you, accepting his drink from the bartender. He gulps down a few mouthfuls of beer, then licks the foam from his upper lip before adding, “I guess the fresh air clears his head. Do you ever see him out on the trails?”

Rather than Pero, Shadow comes to mind instead, followed by a sharp pain in your chest when you think about his absence, how he hadn’t reappeared to walk you home. It isn’t fair how you’ve fixed one relationship in your life only for another one to fall to pieces. Why did there have to be a consequence for your moment of happiness?

“No,” you answer softly, looking down at your drink with the foolish desire that the amber liquid could reveal all the answers to your problems. “I haven’t seen him.”

William doesn’t linger long after that, heading for the door with a cheeky wink after wishing you good luck on your date. You try to feel bolstered by his belief that the date is, in fact, happening still, but every minute that ticks by without Pero threatens to crumble your confidence into dust.

You scrub a hand over your face, wondering if maybe you pushed too hard for a date. But the way he’d pressed a kiss to your palm doesn’t suggest he’d felt cornered. No, he’d definitely been interested then. You’re certain of that.

The question is, did something change his mind in the hours between then and now? And if so, what was that something? Do you even have a chance to change it back? 

“You’ll give yourself gray hairs worrying about the unknown,” your mother used to warn you before she became sick, teasingly pulling on your braid. “I promise the puzzle pieces life hands you will all make sense if you’re patient.”

Patience has never been your strong suit which leads you to order a second drink, figuring alcohol is a good enough distraction from your worry for the time being. Your future self might hate you in the morning, but your present self is on her way to becoming pleasantly buzzed.

You nearly choke on your mouthful when a hand grazes your hip, fingers sneaking beneath your blouse to touch skin. Turning, you find yourself uncomfortably close to a stranger, clearly drunk and uncaring of personal boundaries. His acrid-smelling breath invades your nostrils and makes your stomach churn nauseously. You mentally curse your bad luck, realizing that yes, things can actually get worse.

“Aren’t you a pretty girl,” the stranger says. His speech is slurred, but the lust in his eyes shines bright beneath the hanging lightbulbs. “Care for some company?”

You lean away from him, teetering on the edge of the stool. “Not yours,” you snap, discomfort rising at an alarming rate.

He smirks, intrigued rather than offended. “I bet I could persuade you.”

Your upper lip curls with disgust, but before you have the chance to retort, a wall of warmth plasters itself against your backside with a threatening growl that vibrates through your chest, rattling your ribcage with its intensity. 

“Back off, cabrón.” Your heart stutters when you recognize Pero’s gravelly baritone instantly. He sounds on the verge of turning feral, his voice laced with fury. “Now.”

The stranger, either emboldened by the amount of alcohol in his system or just plain fucking stupid, rolls his eyes at Pero. “Fine, whatever. Just get the bitch a muzzle for that mouth.”

Pero moves faster than your eyes can track, slamming the stranger’s head so hard against the counter of the bar it echoes throughout the whole room. Shock ripples across the crowd, all eyes zeroing in on Pero. And you don’t blame them. 

He looks downright murderous with his lips twisted into a cruel scowl, eyes blazing. 

“Pero,” you begin, nervously glancing between the crowd and him. “Stop. It’s fine. I’m fine. Trust me, he’s not worth it. Just let him go. Please.”

Pero’s eyes flick towards you, reflecting the light strangely, looking more gold than their usual dark brown coloring, and for a split second you think he’s going to ignore you, but then he leans down and mutters something in the man’s ear too low for you to detect. The stranger’s face drains of color, terror written in every line of his expression, and when Pero finally releases him he takes off on shaky legs towards the door with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

Realizing the drama is over, the crowd gradually resumes their conversations once more, filling the silence with chatter and the clinking of glasses. You move closer to Pero who has his head ducked, avoiding eye contact and glaring holes into the floor, hands flexing at his sides.

You reach for one of his hands slowly, giving him the time to reject your touch, but his fingers clutch onto yours like a lifeline.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, just loud enough for your ears alone to hear. “For being late. For my temper. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s okay,” you say, the guilt in his voice making your chest hurt. You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Pero looks up at you, lips stretching into a slow, pleased smile. You fight the urge to press a kiss against the dimple on his cheek, instead returning the grin with a soft one of your own.

“Can we take a walk, little red?”

You nod, butterflies whirling in your stomach. “I’d like that.”

Stars peer down from the night sky while hanging lanterns and street lamps provide more than enough light to illuminate your path as you and Pero stroll through the village. He has yet to let go of your hand, warmth buzzing through your whole body from the point of contact. 

“Most people who stop by the depot to trade are gone by the next day,” you say, the thought occurring as you pass by the building. “But not you.”

“I didn’t plan to stay,” Pero admits, hearing the unspoken question. He scratches at his scruffy cheek with his free hand as he searches for the right words. “I happened to find something that made me change my mind.”

Although your curiosity immediately piques with interest, you don’t ask what that something is, respecting his desire to keep it vague. “I forgot to say,” you murmur, “but I like your haircut. It’s much better than that shaggy, mountain man look you had when we first met.”

He smirks. “Is that so? You know, you were the first person I’d seen in months.” His expression turns thoughtful, as if he’s begun unfolding the memory in his mind like an old photograph. “It was hard for me, remembering how to use words and talk to humans.”

Specifically referencing humans sticks out in your mind as oddly phrased, but then again, what do you know about wandering the wilderness completely alone for months? Maybe if you were in his shoes, you’d also have forgotten how to socialize.

You bite your lip, trying to think of something lighthearted to say, but instead what comes tumbling out of your mouth is, “Did you ever encounter any wolves?” Seeing his startled expression, you rush to add, “It’s just...The way you looked at my field guide, you seemed like you hated them.”

Pero hums, shoulders losing some of their tension. “I crossed paths with one once,” he confirms, calm and detached. He stops walking, pulling gently on your hand to turn you towards him, and he gestures towards his scar. “It gave me this. I’m fortunate it did not rob me of my sight.”

Unthinkingly, you brush your fingertips beneath his eye along his cheekbone where the scar ends. His skin is surprisingly warm beneath your touch, and he makes your breath catch in your lungs by tilting his head, pressing his cheek firmer against your hand, almost nuzzling it.

Little by little you’re starting to uncover a soft, gentle soul beneath his hard-bitten exterior. And in that exact moment you think, I wouldn’t mind falling in love with you.

“I tried to hate wolves for what was done to me,” Pero confesses quietly when you start walking again, heading towards your home, “but my mamá told me as a child that all things happen for a reason, good and bad. There are no accidents.”

“My mother told me to never believe in coincidences.”

His lips curl at the corners, glancing at you with a fond look that nearly has you tripping over your feet. “We were raised by smart women.”

When you reach your front door, you lean your back against it, reluctant to say goodnight to him. You feel something new and special has formed between the two of you, something precious to protect and cherish for years to come. 

Pero stands close, eyes drifting over your face, as if trying to memorize every detail. His thumb brushes smoothly over your knuckles, a soothing motion sparking warmth up your arms. When his gaze dips towards your mouth, you subconsciously start to lean in, magnetized by his presence.

“Little red,” he murmurs, a note of audible nervousness in his voice that makes you pause. “There’s something you need to know about me. Something important.”

“Okay.” You draw in a shaky breath, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. “What is it, Pero?”

Pero doesn’t answer immediately, watching you with eyes deep and soulful, conveying a silent message you cannot read. You wish you could understand, that you could spare him the discomfort he so obviously feels, but you don’t. And so you say nothing. Silence fills the space, threatening to drown you both. 

“Tomorrow,” Pero says finally, and the word is firm, coated in steel. “Tomorrow I’ll come see you at the depot and we’ll talk then.”

You tilt your head, stomach twisting with nervousness. “Alright,” you say slowly, reluctant to pressure him. “If...If that’s what you want.”

He makes a face at that, like it’s the last thing in the world he wants but he’s not going to admit it. Instead, he presses a kiss to your hand, the roughness of his stubble tickling your skin, and says, “Buenas noches, little red.”

"A howl is as infectious to a wolf as a yawn is to a human."— Kevin Ansbro

Storms aren’t a common occurrence during the spring season, but when they do occur it’s as if the skies open up like a damn bursting and flood the village without remorse. 

You’re warm and dry within the depot, watching the lightning flash angrily across the sky through the window. You hope the storm isn’t a bad omen for your conversation with Pero, your fingers twitching restlessly as you wonder what he plans to tell you. Whatever it is, he’d sounded serious when referencing it. Like it’s something that could permanently alter your perception of him. 

In for a penny, in for a pound, you think, nodding to yourself. 

The incessant howling of the wind outside grates on your ears, but it is not loud enough to muffle conversation between a pair of hunters walking around the depot seeking new equipment to replace their drenched ones.

You don’t mean to eavesdrop, but in your defense, they’re not attempting to whisper and the small size of the room makes it virtually impossible to ignore their voices. 

“Better stock up on silver. Full moon’s coming up,” the older of the two warns his companion. He goes by the title Sir Ballard, claiming he used to be a prodigious teacher in his younger years before turning to a life full of hunting and adventuring. Foreign languages are his favorite subject to discuss, but he’s also an expert on ancient myths and legends. You think his stories of aliens and mysterious beasts are a little too far-fetched to be believable, but they’re entertaining nevertheless.

“What’s so special about full moons?” the other hunter asks.

“Nothing if you’re a human,” Ballard answers, adopting his wise professor voice, “but if you’ve got wolf blood in you, the sight of the moon makes you a savage and mindless creature. If you ever come across one, you better hope you’ve got silver with you and good aim because if their bite doesn’t kill you, it’ll turn you. That’s the curse of a werewolf.”

“How do you tell a regular wolf apart from a werewolf?”

“You can’t. That’s why I kill every wolf I see.” Ballard chuckles, causing a shudder to crawl down your spine, a pit forming in your stomach. “Hell, I killed one last night at my camp. Tried to steal food from me and I stabbed it with my knife.”

Your lungs seize up, feeling as if you’ve been kicked in the ribs. No thoughts float in your head beyond white noise and Shadow’s name on repeat.

“Sir Ballard,” you say, internally cringing at the audible tremble but you’re incapable of fixing it. “Where exactly did you kill the wolf?”

He raises an eyebrow, expression turning concerned, probably wondering why you look seconds away from keeling over, but eventually he admits, “In these surrounding woods. I would have brought its pelt to trade, but the damage from my blade was too severe. I’ve never seen so much blood before.”

The revolting image of Shadow’s perforated corpse with scarlet streams pouring from his wounds is more than enough to send you spiraling into a panic attack. Your clothes suddenly feel too tight, your hands shaking at your sides, and the walls are closing in around you. Inching closer and closer, stealing your oxygen without remorse.

No. No, no, no. 

You don’t realize you’ve moved until fat, icy droplets of rain smack against your skin, drenching you from head to toe, and shocks your system back online. 

You need to find Shadow. Need to see him alive and breathing one more time at least. You’ll never forgive yourself if the last interaction you ever had with him was a heartbreaking rejection.

Blinking away the rainwater dripping from your eyelashes, you set your sight upon the forest and take off sprinting. You probably look like a madwoman, running through the storm, soaked to the bone, but all that matters is your wolf.

Lightning streaks across the sky followed by a boom of thunder that shakes the ground as you enter the forest. The trail is a river of grit and mud beneath your feet and the wind assaults the trees relentlessly, turning the scenery you knew and loved into an unrecognizable nightmare. 

You frantically search for any trace of Shadow’s presence, ignoring the chattering of your teeth and the harsh sting of raindrops pelting against your skin. Your hair is absolutely soaked and you’ve never felt so stupidly helpless in your life. Hell, you’re not even sure the direction you’re heading in is even the right one leading to the grassy clearing.

“Shadow,” you call out, raising your voice to be heard over the storm. “Shadow!”

But your wolf does not appear.

You refuse to give up, screaming his name until your vocal chords are scratchy and hoarse. Panic pulses through your veins and every breath of air gets harder and harder to inhale, black spots appearing in the corners of your vision. 

Another deafening burst of thunder sends you careening sideways, shoulder striking against a tree trunk. Its bark digs painfully into your flesh, eliciting a whimper from your sore throat as pain radiates through your collarbone and backside. 

You sink to the ground, curling into a shivering ball at the tree’s base before looking to the dark sky miserably. The overhead branches look eerily similar to claws, reminding you of your childhood fear of the woods. You had been convinced monsters lived in them. Giant, scary creatures with red eyes and sharp fangs who would steal you away if you got too close.

You remember being seven years old and staring anxiously at the tall trees as your mother hung laundry to dry upon a clothesline.

“Sweetheart, it’s alright,” your mother said, voice gentle and comforting, laying a hand upon your head. “If you ever see a monster, all you have to do is howl.”

You frowned up at her. “Howl?”

“Monsters are afraid of wolves, see, and a wolf can never resist answering a howl.”

An idea sparks, breaching through the swarm of anxious thoughts buzzing like wasps in your mind. I trust you, Mom, you think before tipping your head back against the tree and letting out a howl.

The raspy, prolonged wail that tears itself out of your throat doesn’t match a single note of a wolf’s beautiful song, but you pray Shadow hears it and knows it’s your voice.

You strain your ears to hear his potential answer over the falling rain. You feel breathless and jittery as you wait, but you can’t tell if it’s your body gradually succumbing to hypothermia or if it’s your distressed nerves worsening the longer there is no returning howl.

Your head lolls against the tree trunk, aching muscles protesting against the heavy weight of your skull. The storm has warped your senses, making time seem to stretch on and on, dizzying your brain. You have no idea how long you’ve been out here in the woods, if it’s been mere minutes or over an hour. Maybe even two.

You drift in and out of consciousness, unable to summon the strength to stand despite knowing how vulnerable you are sitting here. You’ve lost feeling in your limbs, the blood frozen stiff, and each breath feels like you’re inhaling splinters.

Then, a low, guttural howl weaves through the trees, bringing the faintest of smiles to your blue lips. You don’t know how you know, if it’s instinct or some strange side effect of the bond you’ve developed with your wolf, but you’re certain with every fiber of your being it’s Shadow calling out to you. 

I’m coming, he seems to say. Hold on.

And you wish you could answer. That you could keep your eyes open long enough to greet him. But the all-encompassing relief swimming through your veins makes it hard to focus and your eyelids are so heavy that it’s an impossible feat.

In the silence that follows as you drift off into blissful sleep, you could have sworn you heard a voice shouting your name. Felt warm hands tenderly press against your face.

“I’m here, little red. I’m here,” the voice said from somewhere beyond the darkness. “I’ll always come when you call.”

“On the ragged edge of the world I’ll roam, and the home of the wolf shall be my home” -- Robert Service

You wake up with a groan, opening your eyes to see a familiar ceiling with wooden beams overhead. The rest of your bedroom swims into focus, the moon casting just enough light through your windows for you to see.  

Rubbing at your eyes, you notice your bed is covered with seemingly every blanket you and your father own. You stare at them, searching your foggy memory for an explanation—and then everything hits you at once. Sir Ballard killing a wolf, the run through the storm, collapsing in the woods.

Shadow’s howl.

Pushing the covers aside, you try to stand only to nearly fall on the floor instead, your legs forgetting their purpose of supporting you. You hiss a quiet curse and grab ahold of your nightstand to support yourself, accidentally knocking over a small object. 

You grab it and hold it up to the moonlight for closer inspection, realizing it’s a metallic figurine of a wolf. Your brow creases as you run the pads of your fingers over the rough edges of the wolf’s fur, noticing the way its head is thrown back, forever howling a silent song. 

How strange and remarkable, you think, deciding to take the figurine with you as you head downstairs to seek answers from your father. 

You find him in the kitchen in the middle of preparing dinner. His shoulders sag with relief when he sees you, pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Thank God,” he murmurs. “You scared the hell out of me, kiddo.”

You hug him back just as tightly, a pang of guilt striking you in the chest. “Sorry,” you say.

“What were you thinking?” he asks, giving you a once-over like he can figure out the answer from looking at you. “If it wasn’t for Pero, I—”

“Pero?” you interrupt, heart jumping in your chest. 

“He’s who found you,” your father says. “He forgot one of his hunting traps in the woods and went to retrieve it. Instead he found you, unconscious and absolutely drenched. He brought you home and told me to make sure you got warm. If not for him, you...” He shakes his head with a grimace. “I don’t want to even think about the outcome.”

Something about Pero’s explanation doesn’t ring true to you. He’s not the forgetful type, for starters. And ever since he started working at the forge you haven’t heard him mention hunting except when he bragged to William about once taking down a bear. 

You recall William telling you at the tavern Pero often ventured into the woods during his lunch breaks. Maybe he had started hunting again during the weeks you’d spent avoiding him. But it’s strange you hadn’t encountered him even once along the trails. Just Shadow.

Just Shadow who showed up in your life the same time Pero moved into the village. Just Shadow who understood every word you said and had a raspy laugh like Pero’s when he teased you. Just Shadow who howled shortly before Pero found you in the rain.

Sir Ballard’s voice echoes in the back of your mind. “If their bite doesn’t kill you, it’ll turn you. That’s the curse of a werewolf.”

If a bite could turn someone…

“I crossed paths with one once. It gave me this.”

“I tried to hate wolves for what was done to me.”

“I have become something no one—not even my own mamá—could ever love.”

“There’s something you need to know about me. Something important.”

“Can’t a man be two things at once?”

…could a scar have the same effect?

You hold up the wolf figurine, the gears in your head turning, reconsidering every memory of Pero. “Did Pero leave this behind?”

Your father nods. “As a gift for you, yes. Is there...something going on between you two?”

Instead of answering, you slip your cloak over your pajamas and stick your feet into your boots, haphazardly tying the laces with trembling fingers. God, you’re a stupid idiot. Shadow is the furthest thing from a normal wolf. All his mannerisms and his fucking ability to understand human speech.

You’re a stupid, stupid girl so blinded by the desire to have a friend you failed to see the waving red flags. 

Annoyance flares, burning hotly down your spine, and you stomp past your father towards the door as he asks, “Where do you think you’re going at this hour?”

“I’ve got to talk to Pero,” you tell him, ignoring his worried protests about your health. “It can’t wait until morning. It’s important.”

The village is relatively quiet once the sun goes down with most people tucked away within their homes or enjoying a drink at the tavern. It should be calming, but instead the silence only adds fuel to your agitation, your skin bristling all the way to the blacksmith shop.

There’s a light on inside the forge indicating the presence of life. It might be William working late on an order, but deep down there’s a sense of certainty too intense and foreboding to ignore. The same certainty you’d felt that very first day your wolf had spied on you in the woods.

Pero’s waiting for you. 

You stand in front of the door to the forge, knowing the second you confront him there’s no going back to how things were before. Whether he confirms your suspicions or calls your werewolf theory crazy, this conversation will have repercussions. You draw your shoulders back and shove your anxiety into a box to be dealt with later in the privacy of your room before pushing open the door, determined to get the answers you came for.

Pero stands at the sink in the far corner of the room with his back facing you, cleaning the rust off some of the forge’s tools with vinegar and water. He’s dressed in a plain, black henley with the sleeves rolled up his forearms—a sight that would normally distract you and send your heart into overdrive. 

You shift in place, suddenly hesitant to draw closer despite determination still burning away inside your chest, demanding you stop wasting time and do something.

Pero beats you to the punch, glancing over his shoulder at you. “You should be resting, little red.”

His calmness is the last straw of your self-control.

“Shadow.”

Brown eyes flash amber-gold.

And your whole world tilts on its axis.

“You’re him,” you whisper, words cutting your tongue like thorns. 

Pero is silent, but you see the tenseness in his shoulders as he turns around, the wariness in his gaze like you’re the wild animal in the room to be cautious of. You might have laughed if your chest didn’t hurt so much. 

“Yes,” he says with an awkward shrug of his shoulders. “I’m your wolf.”

“Oh my God, werewolves are real.” You turn away, pressing your palms against your eyes. Embarrassment starts to bloom as you think of everything you’d told Shadow, all your secrets and dreams. Your crush on Pero. Oh God...

Your breath hitches. “That day in the woods before you came to the depot. You were watching me.” You whirl around, glaring at him through watery eyes. “Did you plan all this from the start? Am I just a worthless toy for you to play with until you get bored and find another girl to trick?”

“Stop it,” Pero snarls, crossing the room so fast you stumble backwards against the door. “You’re not a toy. You’re not worthless. You have become the center of my world.”

He looms over you, so close that it should be scary or intimidating. But his nearness only serves to soothe the raging fire inside of you, a security blanket you want to wrap around yourself. 

You bite your lip, the pinch of pain grounding you back in the present moment. “What do you mean?” 

“There are many myths about werewolves. Some are true, most are not. A bite or a wound inflicted by a werewolf will transform a person—I learned that last fall,” Pero says, gesturing towards his scar with a grimace. “But losing control of our shift doesn’t occur during full moons. It happens when we meet our mate.”

You’re struck silent, blood roaring in your ears and heart throbbing against your ribcage, thinking you might fall over. Mate. As in one half of a matched pair. As in The One all the main protagonists in fairy tales dream of finding.

As in...a dead rabbit being dropped at your feet.

“When I caught your scent, my wolf went crazy. I tried to move on, to ignore you, but once you saved me from that damn trap...I knew leaving would be impossible.” You remember Pero limping when he walked around the forge. Yet another glaring sign right in front of your face you’d missed.

“That first month, I didn’t want you to find out what I am. I thought the wolf would be satisfied just seeing you everyday when you came by the forge. And he was for a while…”

“What changed?”

“That day we were alone in the forge, you said I seemed like a man who concealed many secrets. For a second I let myself think about telling you, and I lost control. My wolf is, well, possessive of you. He recognizes you as his mate and he doesn’t care about subtlety. He wasn’t laughing at you, little red. He was laughing because he believed he beat me in claiming you.”

Your eyes narrow. “First of all, I’m not a trophy or a piece of meat. I’m a human being with my own autonomy.” Although you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the sound of being loved by someone so completely they knew you mind, body, and soul. Someone who would put you first and let the rest of the world burn to ash. Someone who was both light and dark with an inner monster who was tame beneath your touch.

You press an accusatory finger into his chest, finding petty satisfaction in watching him flinch. “Secondly, do you know what I’m hearing an awful lot of? The wolf wants me. Not you. Quit giving me mixed signals, Pero. I need to know how you feel about me.” You pause, insecurity creeping into your voice. “Do you feel anything about me? Or just the wolf?”

Pero’s hands grab your wrists, not tight enough to hurt but enough to pull you forward so your body is flush against his. His eyes have no trace of gold in them—entirely brown and so breathtakingly human.

“I could live a thousand lifetimes and never want anyone more than I want you, little red.”

“Then why did you try to end things?” you ask, desperate to understand. “Why didn’t you reveal yourself when you brought me the rabbit? When I told you I loved you.”

“The only reason I tried to end things with you before they began was because I didn’t believe there was anyone who could love me as a wolf. But after you confessed,” he ducks his head, expression painfully vulnerable, “I knew I had to try harder as a man to earn your heart. I was going to tell you the truth about everything, I swear, but the storm...”

“What a foolish big bad wolf you are,” you whisper, unable to tear your gaze away from his, even when your noses brush. “You never had to earn my heart, Pero. Your appearance--wolf, man, any shape in-between--doesn’t matter. It was always going to be yours.”

Pero looks at you like you’ve just given him the moon and all the stars. He starts to lean in, only for you to stop him for a second time by holding your finger up against his lips. He blinks at you, a mixture of confusion and amusement shining in his eyes.

“There’s a lot we have to talk about still. About mates, and you being a werewolf, and our future. But…” You lower your hand to dig the wolf figurine out of the pocket of your cloak and hold it up for him to see. “This is me saying yes to figuring it all out together.”

He presses his forehead against yours, a pleased growl vibrating through his chest. “Would you say it, please? Say you’re mine.”

You grin and capture his mouth with yours, murmuring the words against his lips, “You’re mine.”

“Wolves and women wed for life.” ― George R.R. Martin

Stories start to circulate over the years about a quaint little village surrounded by a pine forest. What’s so special about it? A wolf calls the forest home, one with fur a unique shade of brown that looks red in the sunlight. And always by her side is her mate, a massive beast who’s as doting as he is protective. 

Hunters know better than to mess with the pair after Sir Ballard meets his fatal end trying to prove mythical monsters exist. 

“Look out for Little Red,” they start to warn one another. “Wherever she goes, her Shadow’s never far behind.”

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#pero tovar x you #pero tovar x reader #pedrostories #little red's shadow #werewolf pero #pedro pascal character fanfiction #the great wall fanfiction #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar #my fic #my writing

[buckysgoldenheart]

Just Us

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry is sick and tired of you bringing dates back to your shared apartment, and he has no problem letting you know. So basically, mega jealous Henry, which I am a pathetic sucker for.

Warnings: mentions of sex, lots of cursing. I think that’s it.

Notes: this is kind of similar to another fic I did, and I try not to do that, but I just really felt the need to write this, so I did.

Words: 2732

Henry’s mood turned sour the second you walked through the door with your date in tow. You came in with a bright smile on your face that he returned with a scowl, but you did your best to brush it off. Your roommate acting like an overgrown child every time you brought home a guest was nothing new; you certainly weren’t surprised, and you had no intention of stooping to his level.

“Don’t mind us,” You called to Henry from over your shoulder as you shed your coat and draped it on the hook. “This is James.”

Henry only grunted in response, not looking up from fixing his dinner; peanut butter about to be spread messily on a slice of wheat bread. You rolled your eyes, took James’s coat and led him over to the couch where he smiled sweetly when you invited him to sit and offered him a drink.

Entering the kitchen, you opened the fridge door and pulled out two beers. “So?” You asked, your eyebrow raised as you searched for the bottle opener in the junk drawer. Henry dropped the knife with a clang on the countertop, then turned to you and crossed his arms.

“So, you just thought this was fine,” He asked, his voice dripping with aggravated sarcasm as he shrugged his broad shoulders and frowned. “Just whatever, no big deal?”

You chuckled at the weak argument you’d had at least three times before. You wouldn’t have given him the chance to say anything about your date at all if you knew he wasn’t going to hang on to it the entire night just to explode in the morning for bringing a stranger into his home. Your home too, you would often have to remind him. So, it was your mission to let him get the anger out early in the night. You’d be less likely to have to worry about it later and could focus your attention on the man sitting in your living room rather than Henry’s imminent frustration.

“Henry,” You sighed and took a sip of your beer. “As of right now, it’s just the continuation of an innocent date. We’re going to watch a movie.”

“As of right now?” Henry huffed deeply. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that if it gets a little heated, I promise not to make out with him in front of you, but at this current time, you have little to worry about.”

He sucked in a long breath through his nostrils. “Ok, that’s—”

“And we won’t fuck on our couch. I’ll take him to my room so you don’t have to see anything scarring,” You teased with a wink.

“Ok, enough.”

“And we won’t be loud, I swear.”

“Enough!” He snapped. You quickly whipped your head around the corner to see if James heard, but he was still sitting there, playing with his fingernails as he patiently waited for you like the gentleman he was. When you looked back at Henry, he was practically quaking with anger. “Get that asshole out of my apartment.”

“Um, our apartment. And no thank you.” You smiled and cocked your head to the side as innocently as you could. “I’d like to be having sex tonight.”

“With him?” Henry pointed a long finger in your date’s general direction. The fury in his eyes could’ve stabbed James through the back of his head if the wall weren’t in the way.

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously.”

“For fucks sake, Y/N. Have some self-respect.”

Your playful smile instantly dropped, and if you weren’t leaning against the wall, you would’ve stumbled. Henry had said a lot of things before; Hurtful things, things that made you want to slap him, but something about this felt worse. Assuming you were devaluing yourself by wanting to have sex with a man who was sweet, and kind and generous, and million other lovely things men, other than Henry, have never been to you, was like a stab to the gut. Henry was your best friend; you were his. You supported his choices and dreams, and it seemed Henry did the same for you unless it came to this very particular subject. He hated every man you brought around, but bringing them around or getting involved with them did not make you a stupid girl who cannot take care of herself.

“Jesus Henry, stay in your lane, would you?” You said, shaking your head and rubbing at your temple with your free fingers. “I don’t need my best friend giving me shit. Why can’t I bring a guy here without you acting like a complete dick to him and me?”

He stepped closer until you had to look up to meet his glare. “You’re a very smart girl, Y/N. Figure it out,” he growled, then moved around you, but you grabbed his arm before he could escape yet again. Every time, he tried to escape. Every time, he stomped away from you like a grump as if you had some reason to be sorry or ashamed, and you weren’t having it any longer.

“We aren’t children, Henry. I’m not playing this game. If you’ve got a problem with me, say it to my fucking face.”

He stared at you for a long beat, but then shook your hand off him and made his way down the hall, slamming the door to his room once he was inside.

 -----------------------------------------------------

James was better than most at kissing you, and you’d kissed your fair share. He knew what you wanted--how you liked things--without you needing to ask, and it was like its own little miracle. There was no fumbling around. His lips were firm and his arms around you were strong. He was confident in his touch on your skin as you straddled his lap, and all of it combined had you a moaning, whimpering mess.

“I wasn’t sure we would actually get to do this,” He said between kisses as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Why?” You lightly chuckled, your fingers skimming down to the little buttons holding his shirt together and easing one open. “I’m certainly having a good time.”

“Believe me sweetheart, I am too, but Superman there looked like he wanted to kick my ass.”

Fucking Superman. That asshole had come out of his room at random, inconvenient times as you and James lightly pawed at one another throughout the movie, and you both could feel Henry’s eyes on you. After the look he gave you the first time he came into the living room, you stopped turning your heads his way when his heavy footsteps thudded against the hardwood.

You made a low humming sound that had James’s cock twitching in his pants, and you moved your head down to peck your lips against his. “Don’t bother with him,” You whispered.

He leaned into the light scratching your nails were giving the side of his scalp, and with a groan, said, “If you say so, babydoll, I won’t give it a second thought.”

“Good.” You smiled, satisfied, then kissed him again but he pulled back barely a minute later.

“It’s just…the way he looks at you.”

“He’s a protective friend.” You snickered and ground your hips down on his a little harder to get him back on track.

He groaned as his fingers dug into your waist, but it didn’t distract him. “No, it’s not only that. It’s like…” His lips pursed trying to find the words. “He looks at you in a way that friends normally do not look at one another.”

“He’s got some weird attitude tonight, ok? It’s nothing.” Grabbing his cheeks, you forced him to look directly at you when you said, “Now keep kissing me before I get too impatient.”

 -------------------------------------------------------------

At two in the morning, you figured you were safe. You figured there would be a direct and easy path to the front door of your apartment as you let James out with a smile and a goodbye kiss and promises to text one another the next day, though you weren’t sure how much either of you really meant it. And you were right, there was an uninterrupted tiptoeing to the door. It was when you turned back for your bedroom that you realized the path had a roadblock.

Henry stood in front of you, the fumes nearly visibly wafting off him, with the harshest look he had ever directed at you taking over his entire face. It was a disservice to his handsome features and made your stomach twist uneasily.

“Is this for fucking real right now?” He growled so intensely it vibrated in your ears. “Did I just see what I think I saw?”

“Jesus, Henry, you scared me.”

“You actually slept with that guy?”

“Wh—”

“Un-fucking-believable.” Laughing half-heartedly, he ran one of his hands down his face, but that was all it took for the shock to wear off and for your annoyance to set in.

“Ok, I’m done with this. What is your goddamn problem?”

The two of you didn’t fight this way. Not for long anyway, and even so, this time was significantly worse than any other. Outbursts happened for the both of you, snapping, and words you wish you could take back, but Henry was still looking at you the way he had earlier in the night; like you were a reckless child he was losing respect for by the minute, and it broke your heart.

He stared at you as if expecting you to have an answer to your own question, but when you didn’t continue, he shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, and said, “I’m going to a hotel. I can’t be here right now.”

“What? Henry, why?”

His keys were in hand, his phone and wallet tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants, when it finally registered to you that he wasn’t kidding. He was leaving so fast he didn’t care to take anything other than the necessities with him. That’s how much he wanted to get away from you, and you hated it. You never wanted to get away from him.

Light from the hall streamed through the doorway as you finally began to follow after him. You grabbed at his t-shirt when he wouldn’t respond to your repeating calling of his name, and he whipped around fast with a frown down at you. Your mouth kept opening and closing, unsure of what to say.

He sniffed once, thinned his lips, and removed your hand from his body, then as calmly as he had spoken all night, said, “I’m in fucking love with you.”

Then door was slammed behind him, jarring you and leaving you to soak the night in.

 ----------------------------------------------------------------

When he said those words to you, the six words that he would never be able to take back, the ones that irrevocably changed your friendship in the blink of an eye, everything inside of you began to tremble and vibrate and beat with such intensity you could almost feel the functions of your body. Your blood was pumping a hell of a lot faster and you heart was ready to burst.

Your brain, your skin, the nerves and veins under that skin; every bit of you was working overtime to help process what happened and keep you alert as you did so, and maybe it was all a little overkill, but he had said the one thing you never thought you’d hear.

I’m in fucking love with you.

It would repeat over and over in your head, bouncing around the walls of your skull as it tried to find a way to escape, but there was no use. You could never forget his confession, or the way he said it. There was something desperate about it, weak. There was exhaustion, as if he were tired of holding it back and had given up on even trying.

It was too much. You’d never dismiss it, and God, when he got his ass back home you wouldn’t let him brush it aside, but for now, it was too much.

You wanted sleep after sitting completely still for two hours, staring into space. So you carried your body to the closest room, his room, crawled into his bed, and tangled yourself within the sheets until you wouldn’t be able to unwrap yourself without effort you did not possess at such an ungodly hour. You were stuck, trapped, engulfed by him, just like you wanted to be. Then you took his king-sized pillow, massive like his body, and hugged it to your chest, tucking your face in it. It smelled like him, all musky and piney and perfect in a way that always made you dizzy when he would sit a little too close and drape a long arm around your shoulders as you watched tv or read a book.

And you cried yourself to sleep, wishing he was beside you.

 --------------------------------------------------------------

Henry came back in the morning, though he wasn’t sure how he gathered the courage. Maybe it was the fact that it was you. Just you, his best friend, his roommate. He loved you in more ways than one, and perhaps it was that knowledge that made him a little stronger.

He’d face you, and he’d do it with the intention of making everything clear. He was in love with you and it wasn’t going to change. He loved you as his friend; that wasn’t going to change either, and no way in hell was he going to lose you twice over.

Taking a few deep breaths, Henry unlocked the front door and eased his way inside. You weren’t around the sunlit soaked first floor of the apartment, and when he traipsed upstairs and nudged your door open, you weren’t there either. He wanted you tucked in your bed, not gone and probably terrified at the thought of seeing him, so running to James’s or Jake’s or Jason’s apartment to avoid him. That would be the perfect painful exclamation point on the disaster of his poor decision making.

Then he found you. Not missing, but snug in his bed, warming the mattress with your body as it dipped the slightest under your weight. Everything about the sight killed him and melted his heart simultaneously. There you were, laying peacefully angelic, right where he had wanted you for months. And it looked so beautifully natural.

Not even stopping to think, Henry inched his way to the other side of his bed, lifted the duvet and slid beneath it. He reached an arm around your waist and pulled you close to kiss your forehead, then tucked his face into the crook of your neck. When you stirred, he leaned back to take in your face as your eyebrows scrunched and your lips parted in a yawn.

You didn’t open your eyes but rose a hand, placed it on his cheek, and ran a thumb along the corner of his mouth. As the goosebumps spawned all over his body, he wasn’t even sure you were fully awake, but then you whispered, “It was always you, Henry. Always.”

Henry swallowed hard as your sleepy voice continued.

“I figured you weren’t an option, and I was doing my best working around that.”

After running a hand over your hair and tucking some behind your ear, Henry pressed a kiss to your lips. A short, soft one to see how you’d react. Then you opened your eyes slowly and met your Y/E/C with his blue.

“Do it again,” You said, and so he connected your lips a little firmer, tightening his hold on you, and rolling on his back until your body splayed over his.

You moaned when he caressed his tongue against yours after opening your mouth an inch. Your heart fluttered in your chest the stupid way dramatic, moony-eyed women often described it in novels. You thought it was a myth, the idea that anyone could make you feel so loved just from a kiss, and you’d lost hope for that kind of thing long ago. But Henry ripped your pessimism to shreds in a matter of minutes.

“I want you to be mine,” he mumbled against your lips. “Just mine.”

“Then I’m yours,” You said without hesitation, tilting your head back enough to look in his eyes. You nudged your nose against his. “Just yours.”

---

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#henry cavill #henry #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill angst #henry cavill fluff #henry cavil fic #henry cavill fics #henry cavil fanfic #henry cavill fanfics #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill imagines #henry cavill oneshot #henry cavill oneshots #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill one shots #henry cavill stuff #jealous!henry #jealous!henry cavill

[petri808]

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Inukag AU

The drive back to the Higurashi home in Miroku’s car was eerily silent. Inuyasha slouched in the back seat with his arms crossed, internally freaking out, and ears buried beneath white fur. His mind was so frazzled with thoughts it sounded like white noise and felt like a staticky screen with a killer ready to crawl through it. What was he gonna say to Kagome?! Would he be able to face the woman at all?! Mrs. Higurashi had called Sango before leaving to let them know they were on the way, but they had no idea if Kagome would be up for this either on such short notice. Should he just throw himself onto the ground, prostrated and begging for mercy? It sounded extreme, but Inuyasha really had no idea what to do.

Inuyasha followed behind Mrs. Higurashi, shoulders slumped, and head hung with Miroku behind ready to grab him if he tried to run— again… like he’d tried as soon as the car pulled up to the house. But in his weakened condition, he was easier to control. She opened the door, moving to the side to let him go first, but he just shook his head and refused to budge.

“Inu, it’s going to be okay,” she gently cajoled. “The hardest part is over, now all there is, is up.”

Miroku put a hand on the hanyo’s shoulder. “We’re not gonna say it’ll all work out, but you’ll never know until you do this and get closure. Both of you need this, Inuyasha.”

“Fine,” Inuyasha grumped. “If I do this and it doesn’t work out, you’ll leave me alone?”

“Yes.”

“So, I can die in peace?”

“Yeah… nice try,” Miroku patted the man’s shoulder then shoved him hard unexpectedly.

Inuyasha stumbled forward into the house and landed on his knees. “Bastard!” He growled.

Miroku just shrugged as he closed the door behind him. “At least you’re in now.” He held out a hand and yanked Inuyasha to his feet. “Come on, they’re waiting in the living room.”

The hanyo trudged and drug his feet despite the constant pressure Miroku had on his back to propel him forward. As they rounded the corner into the room, Inuyasha’s senses were on high alert. His eyes and ears scanning, processing, nose looking for scent variations from the three other people in the room. Mrs. Higurashi was already seated next to Kagome on the couch with their backs to the men as the entered, and Sango was upstairs with the twins. Salt lingered in the tense air like an old melody not yet forgotten and ready to be rekindled. Inuyasha could feel the despair emanating from Kagome and it was enough to send him deeper into a panic.

“You can do this,” Miroku whispered to his friend as he prompted Inuyasha towards the couch paralleling Kagome’s. “Let’s just sit down, and we’ll get through this slowly.”

But as the hanyo sat down, Inuyasha heard an audible gasp come from Kagome. His head whipped up at the sound and instantly the buzzing in his brain stopped when it saw her widened, tear laden eyes staring at him with her hand to her mouth in shock. The pure embarrassment and guilt that flooded his mind in that instant simply destroyed him. Inuyasha sank lower into the couch and averted his eyes to the floor. He knew exactly why she reacted that way. Hadn’t Mrs. Higurashi warned her daughter of his physical state? Obviously not.

“I-I’m sorry,” Inuyasha’s quieted voice cracked. “I wish you didn’t have to see me like this.”

“But… why, Inu…” Kagome’s own voice shook, not in anger, but sadness. “Why?”

Inuyasha searched for the right words that might soften the blow but couldn’t think of any. So, he gave Miroku and Mrs. Higurashi desperate glances, eyes begging for an answer until Mrs. Higurashi finally spoke up and directed him to tell her daughter the truth. “This is not the time to hide anything, Inuyasha. Kagome deserves to know what you are thinking just as much as you deserve to know what she is thinking. Only then can you move forward.”

“I— didn’t think…” Inuyasha closed his eyes as tears instantly broke loose. His voice grew strained and tortured. “Life wasn’t worth living since I lost you, so I just gave up. Stopped eating and let my body give up too.”

“But you didn’t lose me yet. I wasn’t ready to talk to you, but that didn’t mean I was ready to throw everything away too.”

“How would I know that?! You never responded to my messages so what else was I supposed to think?!”

“You cry and sulk like I did! Not try to kill yourself!”

“It’s my fault you left that night! It’s my fault you got into the accident! It’s my fault you almost died and lost your memory! And I screwed up again by not listening to you! So, why should I keep living?! I think you’d be better off without me.”

“Yeah, okay so you fucked up! But who the hell are you to decide about what’s better for me?! Huh?!? That’s my choice to make and I don’t think I’d be better off if you died!”

“Okay, okay,” Mrs. Higurashi leaned forward and waved her hands as the fighting couple instantly sat back with arms crossed in anger. “It seems crazy, but this is good, and you need to get whatever you’re thinking off your chests and not hold it in. But…” she paused and gave each side a look before continuing. “The next step is to start seeing it from the other’s perspective. So, before you respond, stop and think.”

Regardless of the advice, the anger and frustration fueling both Kagome and Inuyasha had them locked away in their own minds. So, they ignored the woman and sat hunched in their seats, arms locked tight, and faces turned away as tears still trickled down their faces. Two passionate souls burdened by guilt and letting it win in a deadlock.

To break the stalemate, Mrs. Higurashi moved from the couch to the floor, sitting between them. She continued with a sigh. “Miscommunication is both of your problems; you keep assuming things without verifying it first. And we get it. Emotional stuff is the hardest to deal with, but that means it needs an even greater amount of communication to take place.”

She turned first to Inuyasha, placing a hand on his knee. “You’re right, Inuyasha. Kagome should have responded to messages, even if it was to say give her time, that she needed to think before she could talk to you. But you also shouldn’t have assumed killing yourself would be better for her, only she can make that kind of decision and I know you know rationally; Kagome would never have wanted such a thing.”

Next turning to Kagome, she placed her other hand on her daughter’s knee. “And Kagome, everyone processes emotions differently. All these months you couldn’t feel any loss because you couldn’t remember it, but Inuyasha has been living with that guilt the entire time. By telling him to just cry and sulk like you did is not taking into consideration the months of pain he’s been dealing with versus a week for you.”

Mrs. Higurashi squeezed both their knees. “It doesn’t matter who is right or wrong or placing blame, it’s about understanding. Taking into consideration the other persons feelings before reacting. Do you understand?”

“Yeah…”

“I guess so…”

“Good. Now forget about this week’s incident for the moment. Inuyasha tell Kagome what you’d told me during our conversations right after the accident, about how guilty you felt.”

Inuyasha’s arms uncrossed and dropped to his sides in an exhausted sigh. His voice teetered and cracked as it held back the sadness still roiling in his heart. “Kagome, I… I can’t change the past. And you’re right. The old me wasn’t listening to you when I should have been. I stupidly thought that because you were the one, I was coming home to, that you’d see how little Kikyo meant in my life. So, when you complained, I thought you were just being jealous. But I didn’t realize until it was too late that her being around was hurting you so much or that she was doing things behind my back to make you miserable. I’m sorry… very, very sorry for being a blind fool.”

“I’m sorry too,” Kagome sighed, “for pushing you away without explanation. You deserved at least that much. While I still don’t fully understand what caused me to snap the night of the accident, I should’ve given you some credit for everything you’ve done since then to make it up, because you did make me really happy all these months.”

“I did?” The surprise was genuine in Inuyasha’s tone.

“You did…” Kagome fidgeted with her fingers, “and that’s probably why I reacted so harshly after the party. The only way I can explain it is, for me… it felt like… I was falling in love for the first time then suddenly having my heart broken, and that really hurt.”

“Y-You… lov—” the words choked up in Inuyasha’s throat as he processed Kagome’s words. He’d hoped to win her over, but assumed it would take time, so to hear her say she was falling in love… “I don’t even think I deserve it anymore for putting you through so much.”

Kagome frowned. “Don’t say that. You’re not perfect, but deep down I know you care a lot about me. If I didn’t feel that from you, I wouldn’t have given you the second chance.”

It was as if Mrs. Higurashi could sense the hanyo’s reluctance to accept what her daughter was saying. So, she counseled him further. “Inuyasha, son, I know right now it still feels like dark times, but keep in mind this is just the beginning towards fixing things. I’m sure there will be times more things come up, trust still needs to be rebuilt, especially when Kagome’s full memories return, but what she… we are trying to tell you is that you are worth it, and it’s by communicating like you’re doing now that the future can be bright again.”

“Do you… want that?” Kagome’s voice quieted. “Or do you still want to give up?”

Inuyasha broke right then and there. He got off the couch and kneeled before Kagome with ears drooping, throwing himself to the woman’s mercy because he still couldn’t look at her face. “I want that— I want it more than anything.”

Kagome leaned down and cradled his face in her hands, raising it so she could look into his eyes. “Then don’t give up because I haven’t. My heart still tells me I was born to meet you…”

Inuyasha’s eyes widened in recognition.

Kagome stopped with a gasp. “I feel like I’ve said that before. Did I… say that before?”

The tears renewed in Inuyasha’s smiling eyes. “You said it to me on our 1st anniversary— a-and I responded that I was born to meet you too.”

Tears gathered in Kagome’s eyes and her hands reached up to cover her mouth. “I remember it. Oh, my kami… I remember that.” She looked back to him. “It was next to the Goshinboku— at sunset, because I remember the colors were pretty too.”

“Your hair looked like it was on fire with that lighting…” Inuyasha smiled, taking her hands into his own, “and I kissed you for the first time,” he kissed her fingers. “You were the light in my dark world after losing my mom, and I knew then, that I could never love anyone else more than you, Kagome. I’m so sorry for putting you through hell.” His eyes softened into a hopeful puppy-dog look. “Third times the charm?”

“You big dummy!” But Kagome’s eyes softened into a smile too as she leaned in and hugged him. “It better be!”

Mrs. Higurashi took the opportunity and moved back to the couch while Miroku stood up from his seat and cleared his throat to get the couples attention. “You’re welcome, Inu. Now, that things are settled I should check on Sango.” He nodded his head and left the room.

“Thanks, Roku,” Inuyasha mumbled back.

“Do you want to stay for dinner, Inuyasha?” Mrs. Higurashi asked. “If not, Miroku can take you home.”

“I’d like to stay if that’s okay. I think my appetite is coming back.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Higurashi smiled. She stood up, but before leaving placed her hands on their shoulders. “I’m so proud of both of you. Just hang out here and keep talking things out. Dinner will be ready in about 30 minutes.”

“Thanks, mom…”

“Inu?” Kagome brought his attention back to her.

“Yeah?”

“This might sound crazy, especially after this whole crisis we just went through but… I wonder since the memories are coming back quicker, I could come back home and maybe that’ll help to unlock more.”

Inuyasha was shocked but he’d be crazy to say no. He could only pray it wasn’t too awkward. “If that’s what you want, yeah. I can take the spare room if that’ll make you feel more comfortable.”

Kagome smiled. “I appreciate it a lot.”

“Anything to help you get your memories back…”

#inuyasha #inukag #inukag au #kagome higurashi #inukag fan fic #inukag fan fiction #modern au inuyasha #inuyasha x kagome #inukago #ch 12 #missing memories #petri808

[rizlowwritessortof]

Meant To Be - Chapter 7

Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start.

Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor

Word Count: 2537

Warnings: Smut, violence

Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics​ 

Jordan barely saw Dean or Donna for the next two days. She had almost given up and gone to bed when the door opened and they trudged into the room, and she didn’t need to ask how things were going with the case.

Donna held up a hand in a halfhearted greeting and headed for her room, and Dean practically threw himself onto the sofa next to Jordan with a frustrated sigh.

“So it’s not going well,” she stated, reaching for his hand. He shook his head, lacing his fingers through hers, gnawing at his lip as he let his head drop back against the couch.

“It’s like they disappeared. They’re not showing their faces anywhere.”

“Do you think it’s over?”

“No. I’m sure it’s not over. Somebody’s fucking with us, and I don’t like being fucked with. I’m getting a real strong feeling that these kids aren’t at the wheel.”

Jordan looked over at him. “You think there’s someone using these kids to do their dirty work?”

Dean turned his head, nodding his response. “That’s exactly what I think.” His jaw worked for a moment before he went on. “And to make things even worse – that kid, the one Evan was going to shoot? They found his body this afternoon in a dumpster. Shot in the head.”

“Oh, my God, Dean!” She put her hand to his face and he leaned into her touch, his eyes closed. “I know how torn up you are about all of this. But you have to get some rest.” She leaned in to kiss him gently, and he opened his eyes, the defeat there making her heart ache.

“I know. I should head out.”

“No. You should stay.” She kissed him again. “You can go home and change in the morning. Come on, detective, let’s haul your ass to bed.”

“Still so bossy,” he grumped, and she smiled.

“Don’t act like you’re all offended,” she countered, standing and reaching a hand towards him. He shot her a sidelong glance with a rueful smirk, reaching for her hand and rising to his feet.  “Come on. You’re exhausted. Bed time, mister.”

Dean made it to the bed and plopped down, untying his shoes and shoving them off. Jordan changed quickly into her usual t-shirt and shorts, and he was still sitting there, staring into the distance. Wishing she could take some of the burden from his shoulders, she moved to stand in front of him, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off his shoulders. He pulled his arms free, and then pulled her close, his face against her chest, and she rubbed at his shoulders and neck for a moment before pulling back. He gave her a sad, weary little smile before standing up to shed his jeans and socks, and she folded the covers back, waiting for him to climb in. “Need anything?” she asked softly, and he shook his head.

“Just you.”

“That I can do,” she said, crawling in beside him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and giving her a lingering kiss before falling asleep almost immediately.

Dean’s restless twitching and unintelligible mumbling woke Jordan from a deep sleep around 3:00 a.m.  She could feel his heart pounding beneath her hand, and she shook him lightly, trying to wake him. “Dean. Dean, wake up, you’re dreaming...” He let out a muffled cry, half-sitting up as she moved back slightly, his breathing panicked and his eyes wild. “Dean, it’s okay. It was a nightmare,” she said softly,  waiting until he turned to look at her before she reached to lay a hand on his face. His eyes drifted closed as he dropped back down, his arm flung over his head as he forced himself to calm. Finally, he blew out a breath, and Jordan leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Are you okay?”

He stared up into her eyes, his chest heaving a little less as his body adjusted to reality, reaching up to touch her face with his fingertips. He slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her down, kissing her hungrily but gently, his free hand finding its way beneath the hem of her shirt to caress her soft skin. He rolled, moving her to her back, stopping the kiss only long enough to gaze down at her, the question in his eyes answered as she reached down to pull her shirt over her head. Then his lips were on hers again, tongues tangling as he finished undressing her and ripped his boxer briefs off, fitting himself between her thighs.

His fingers were warm, stroking through her folds before he plunged them inside her, then removed them to line himself up. Their moans and sighs were swallowed by their kiss as he thrust forward, her hips bucking up to meet him, her hands clutching at his shoulders. He rocked into her gently, barely pulling back before burying himself again and again, Jordan’s legs clutching at him desperately as she met his rhythm. When she came, it surged through her like a wave on the beach, quiet but powerful until it reached its peak, and as it began to ebb, she felt Dean’s cock swell and pulse as he joined her. She let her shaking legs slip down to the bed as Dean finally stopped kissing her to let his head drop to the pillow beside her, his breath warm on her neck as he panted softly.

She kept her arms wrapped around him, her fingers stroking through the damp short hair at his nape, until he finally moved with a gentle kiss to her shoulder. “Be right back,” she whispered, rolling over and heading to her bathroom to clean up a little, bringing back a cold glass of water for him. He propped himself up on an elbow, drinking it gratefully, then set it aside and pulled her close again as they drifted back to sleep together.

Jordan woke a few hours later as Dean kissed her on the forehead. She looked up to find him fully dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed. He leaned down to kiss her lips, lingering for a moment, before raising up to speak softly. “I gotta go. See you later?”

“You’d better,” she smiled.

“Go back to sleep, it’s early. I’ll call you when we’re done for the day.”

Jordan sat on the sofa, her fingers flying over the keyboard of her laptop as she finished editing a contract and sent the email off to Sam. Only one big job left, the Cranston contract, and she began to read, her brow furrowing a little more as she reached the third paragraph. There were conflicting statements, and it was definitely not something she was comfortable handling without talking to her boss.

She grabbed her cell and dialed, waiting for Sam to answer. When he did, he sounded stressed, a little out of breath. “Jordan, hey.”

“Hi, Sam. Everything okay?” He didn’t answer for a moment, and she said his name again, worry nudging at her. “Sam?”

“Jordan, I’m fine. But – well, I’m at the office. Somebody broke in. The cops called me, they waited here long enough for me to get some plywood to board up the plate glass window.”

“Oh, no… Sam...”

“Don’t even say it. Dean would take my head off if I let you come down here. It’s fixed for now. I just grabbed a few important files that are ongoing and I’m heading home.”

“I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to handle that on your own.”

“It’s okay. I’m locking up now and heading out.” She could hear him fumbling with the keys in the door, and then the sound of his footsteps as he walked to his car. “Son of a bitch!”

“What? Sam, what’s happening?”

Sam sighed heavily, his frustration evident. “My car. They ripped out the wiring.” She heard him slam the hood closed before he continued. “Fucking awesome. Sarah’s out of town, and none of the cab drivers will come down to this neighborhood after the shit that’s been happening. I’ll have to walk a few blocks before I can call for a ride. I’d better let you go.”

“Sam! Don’t be crazy, I’ll come and pick you up.”

“The hell you will. I don’t want you anywhere near here, do you hear me, Jordan?” His voice brooked no argument.

“Okay, okay. But I could drive and meet you farther up, give you a ride the rest of the way. I don’t like you being on foot down there, especially since they already vandalized the office and your car.”

She could tell by his breathing that he was walking, and waited for him to respond to her offer. “Okay. Don’t come any further south than that convenience store on the corner of 57th Street. Even if you don’t see me. You wait for me there, and if I don’t show up, you call Dean. Promise me.” When she didn’t answer, he spoke again, firm and insistent. “Jordan? Promise me.”

She huffed out a frustrated breath. “Fine. I promise. Just – be careful.”

“I will. See you soon.”

Jordan grabbed her keys and her phone and headed out the door, her concern for Sam’s safety all she could think about. It was a twenty-minute drive to the office, and she was hoping that he would have reached the safety of the convenience store by the time she arrived. She had an ominous feeling that he was being toyed with, and she wouldn’t feel better until she had him out of the area.

She pulled into the store’s lot, parking at the outer edge so she didn’t block the gas pumps, and peered up the street. Half of the street lights were broken, of course, but she thought she saw a large figure moving her direction. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she could finally see that it was him, a laptop bag bulging with file folders clutched in one hand. He raised his hand in greeting, walking quickly towards the car.

She unlocked the doors and smiled at him as he opened the back door to toss the files inside. “Thanks, Jordan. Gotta say, I was a little nervous walking...” Before he could finish his sentence, he was surrounded by several dark figures wearing hoodies and ski masks, and he managed to slam the door closed before his legs were swept from under him. Jordan screamed his name, grabbing her phone to dial 911.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“Please send help, there’s a man being attacked! Corner of 57th and Harrison, by the convenience store. Hurry!” One of the attackers rolled over the top of the hood and reached for her door, and she quickly hit the door lock.

“Ma’am, please stay on the line...” Jordan didn’t hear the rest of the sentence as the glass from the driver’s side window exploded into the car and a gloved fist landed a heavy blow to her jaw. A large gloved hand grabbed the back of her neck and slammed her face into the steering wheel. The last thing she heard was the tinny sound of the dispatcher’s voice from her phone. “Ma’am? Ma’am, are you still there?” The words grew faint and distant as her world faded to black.

Dean charged off the elevator, badge in hand, with Donna on his heels. “Sam Winchester. He was just brought in, he was assaulted.” The nurse took one look at his face and the badge, and with no argument began to type the information into the computer.

“Looks like they’re prepping him for surgery. Exam room 8, down the hall to the left.”

Dean rushed that direction, and Donna smiled and thanked the nurse before following. He was being blocked from entering the room by a nurse in scrubs who was patiently explaining what was happening. “Sir, we need to get him into surgery, so it will have to wait.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” Dean dragged his hand down over his face, trying to calm his panic.

“He’ll be fine. We think he may have a ruptured spleen, and his broken arm needs to be set. He’s got some broken and bruised ribs, and he’ll need a few stitches for cuts on his face, but he’s going to be okay.”

He looked at the nurse, fighting his urge to just push her aside and enter the room. “Good. That’s good. Problem is, I need to talk to him. There was a woman with him, and she’s missing. I need to know if he saw what happened.” The nurse closed her eyes for a moment, then let out a reluctant sigh.

“Okay, sir. You can speak to him for a moment. But we have got to get him to surgery.”

Dean nodded in agreement, rushing forward as soon as the nurse moved. “Sammy? Sam, can you hear me?”

“Dean. They took her. They got Jordan.” Sam’s voice was weak and strained, his face bloodied and bruised, and Dean clenched his teeth at the surge of pure fury that washed through him. “I’ll be fine, Dean. You gotta find Jordan.”

“Did you see anything? Faces?”

“They all wore masks and hoodies. All black. Couldn’t tell who they were.”

“Sir, I’m sorry, you have to leave now. We have to finish prepping him for surgery.” The nurse, half Dean’s size, was determinedly shoving him towards the door.

“Sammy, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He grabbed the nurse’s hand as she turned away, and she looked up at him. “Please call me when he gets out of surgery. That’s my brother.” Her face softened a little, and she nodded.

“Give the desk nurse your information, and we’ll let you know.” She gave Dean’s hand a squeeze, then hurried back to Sam’s side.

He turned, long strides carrying him back to the front desk, giving the nurse his contact information. Donna waited by his side, then grabbed him before he could move away. “Okay, now – stop for a second. What’s the plan, Dean? You need to calm down and think.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. Okay. You’re right.” He looked into his partner’s eyes. “They’ll be calling me.”

“Yes, they probably will. Do you want to head to the precinct, get set up for a trace?”

“Yeah. Probably won’t do any good, but – yeah.” He rubbed his hand roughly over his face again, shaking his head. “I should be here with Sam. I just...”

Donna took hold of his arm. “He told you to go. I already called Sarah, she’ll be here in a couple of hours. He knows you need to find Jordan.”

Dean nodded. “Okay. Okay, let’s go.” He looked at Donna again, his eyes full of torment. “Donna, this is all because of me. If something happens to her...”

“No. We are not gonna let anything happen to her. We will get her back, whatever it takes, and we will take down the bastards who did this. Right, partner?”

He blew out a breath, then nodded. “Right.”

“Good. Now let’s move it, Winchester. We’ve got work to do.”

Chapter 8

#meant to be #chapter 7 #dean fic #dean smut #dean x oc #dean x jordan

[poliel]

Fix-It Deaths: Floofty

Content warning: this fic contains major character death.

I had the idea to do this way back when I first played through the bad ends and got disappointed by Floofty's reaction to Shelda's deaths and vice-verse as well as Cromdo and Beffica's reaction to each other's death, and the fact that when one of the Fizzlebean siblings died, the other has no reaction to it whatsoever. I'd drifted away from the idea, pulled by other ideas for this fandom as well other fandoms, but as I said in the summary, the horror of it fits for the darker side of the Halloween spirit so I returned.

As of right now I only have two of these written, this one and the one where Shelda dies. I was supposed to start the Beffica chapter tonight but, uh, it ain't happening. That should be fine though, I have the whole month practically to finish the last two chapters. I make no promises though, other than to try my best, my main focus for Halloween is art so it might not happen.

Happy first day of Halloween regardless though.

~

Being proven right about bugsnax would’ve been a wonderful moment under almost any other circumstance. But as it as, Shelda only desperately wished she’d been wrong instead.

“I feel our decision to split up was a mistake,” Floofty said as they fired the fist, knocking a serious of snax back to splat into the ground more due to luck and the density of them than actual aiming skill.

“One is in agreement for once.” Shelda’s only weapon was a hoe stolen from somewhere after the first wave had come out of the ground. It had been fairly easy to push it back. This second wave though, not so much.

Shelda held the right flank while Floofty guarded their left. Even so they were being driven back, step by step until… Shelda gasped as her back pressed against the rough wooden boards of the barn’s wall. On one hand they couldn’t be attacked from behind, on the other though they had nowhere left to go.

The ground rumbled and shook again, throwing off Floofty’s next shot, making it miss utterly this time. Almost as if sensing the opening more bugsnax grew out of the ground and pressed in.

“Back foul toxins, back!” Shelda screeched as she swung her hoe, whacking a couple strawbys away.

Floofty let out her own wordless battle cry. But Shelda couldn’t afford to pay attention to them. She just had to trust them to hold off the snax on that side much like how they were doing for her. Neither of them were going die here today, Shelda simply would not allow it. They were going to make it through and later once they were safe and sound on the mainland again she was going to make sure Floofty never forgot that she was right and they were wrong.

So, abandoning her pacifism for the first time since she’d taken that vow, she went to town with the hoe. Smashing anything that dared approached until her hoe was bent and dripping in various bugsnax juices. She kept going on even as her arms started to ache and burn, her breathing ragged and heavy.

Oh grumping fuck, how many more could there be? Surely they had to stop coming eventually, right? Hopefully help would come before…

Floofty let out a cry of distress. They’d fallen to their hands a knees, either knocked down by an aggressive snac or lost balance some other way, didn’t matter. They were given no time to even try to right themself before they were swarmed completely.

The bugsnax covered every inch of them as they crawled up and forced their way into their mouth. They choked, gagged, and sputtered, flailing their paws uselessly underneath the mass of bugsnax.

With a vicious snarl, Shelda went at them, whacking as many away as she could. But… all the bugsnax had stopped going for her, instead focusing on the easier already down target. There were too many and they just kept coming. Even if she’d been in her prime, there wasn’t much more Shelda could’ve done.

Far too soon the gagging and sputtering spotted, as did the flailing. The bugsnax pulled back, revealing Floofty, or what was left of them. Their snakified flesh was… oozing off them, revealing white bone underneath as it melted into the ground.

Shelda turned and gagged, probably the only thing keeping her from vomiting was the fact that she hadn’t eaten in a while. Before she could recover the bugsnax were swarming her next, climbing up her legs. This was it, now it was her turn. She was going to share the same fate as…

A very well aimed shot from the fist canon knocked the snax off her chest. She gasped, looking over to see Buddy already aiming their next shot. With no time to thank them, she burst back into motion, quickly knocking the rest of the snax crawling up onto her off.

For whatever reason, the flow of snax was slowing. Allowing Buddy to quickly clear a path, freeing Shelda.

“Go back to the airship,” they said, not even looking at her as they continued to keep the bugsnax away.

“But what about…” Shelda glanced at what was left of Floofty. Just a pile of bones where once, just a matter of minutes ago, there had been a full living breathing grumpus. How was it even possible for someone to be there and then gone in such a short amount of time? No one deserved such a fate, not even them… especiallynot them. “If nothing else we should at least…”

“No time,” Buddy interrupted with a slight growl. “Get out of here now before they start swarming again.”

Shelda’s suggestion that they should gather up Floofty bones for a proper burial later died on her lips. Buddy was right, as much as Floofty deserved at least that, they didn’t have time. Shelda was beyond spent and sticking around while Buddy protected her was only holding them back from rushing off to potentially help the others. So… she tore her gaze away and turned to run back towards the airship.

She encountered a few bugsnax on the way back but nothing she couldn’t just run past. Filbo greeted her as she reached the ship but she ignored him as she made her way over to the ship’s cabin. She didn’t go in though, instead sinking to the deck and leaning back against its wall.

Don’t think about it. …. Don’t think about it. … Don’t think about it. … But in all her years and having known many people who were gone now, she’d never witnessed anyone she’d known well die violently. She’d never known someone who’s death she could’ve possibly prevented. If she’d managed to get the snax off Floofty or hold them off entirely for just a little longer than Buddy would’ve arrived in time to save both of them.

Such an awfulway to go too. And the two of them been starting to get along, sort of anyway. But now that was all gone. All of everything that made up Floofty was gone forever. All of the scientific achievements and discoveries their brilliance might’ve led to in the future to help the world and grumpkind was never to be.

It was unwise to dwell on such things, she’d learned that a long time ago. But despite that and all her years and supposed wisdom, her thoughts circled on it anyway.

~

Snorpy and Chandlo arrived on the air ship next, Snorpy huffing and puffing from the run, though Chandlo looked a little spent too. Oh no. Shelda would have to tell Snorpy about Floofty. … Not now though. Let him not have to bear the knowledge of how horribly his sibling had died for just a little while longer.

But alas, as soon as he was done checking in with Filbo on the airship’s engine, a process that took only a few seconds, he and Chandlo turned and made their way over to stand before Shelda.

“Floofty was with you, right?” Snorpy wasted no time getting to the point, huh? “When I was running to help Chandlo, I’m sure I saw them with you. So… where are they?” His expression was confused as he looked around the ship, seemingly the thought of the worst having happened hadn’t even occurred to him yet.

Shelda took a breath, intending to spout some ‘wisdom’ that would really be just gobbledygook meant to obscure the bad news and hide it for a little longer. But… no, now wasn’t the time for that. “They’re dead.”

His face dropped like a stone. “What?”

Chandlo’s expression almost mirrored his. “Nuh-uh, no way they’re dead… right?” He looked at Shelda as if she could somehow take those words back and make them not true. If only she had such powers.

She could only shake her head. “I tried to save them. I really did but… it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry.”

For a moment Snorpy looked like he was going to say something but ultimately just shook his head and turned away as he shrunk in on himself. Chandlo followed as he went to the other corner to grieve in.

“Wait! Floofty’s really dead?” Filbo cut in. To his credit though he remained by his post.

“Yes,” Shelda said. “Now be quiet about it.” The last thing anyone needed was Filbo being Filbo about this.

“Oh uh… okay.” He shrunk in on himself too and turned away once more. “Sorry Snorpy about… I guess you probably don’t want to listen to me about it but… sorry. … I’ll shut up now.”

And this was only the beginning of having to tell everyone about Floofty. Well at least the hardest part was out of the way. Hopefully everyone else would make it back to the airship okay.

#my writing #bugsnax #floofty fizzlebean #shelda #floofty & shelda #major character death

[chaotic-noceur]

if you love something, let it go

[ day 2 | angstageddon masterlist ]

pairing: Javier Peña x reader

summary: Javier is familiar with the concept of love, but it is not something he’ll allow himself to indulge in.

warnings: heavy angst, swearing, degradation (DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT IN A GOOD MENTAL SPACE)

credits: shout out to my loves @din-damn-djarin @ezrasarm for beta reading and letting me hurt them at too-early-in-the-morning o’clock! Some dialogue was prompted by this shadowhunters clip.

a/n: I AM SORRY. I love every single one of you reading this but I’m an angry sad soul and it had to go somewhere 😬also, im a little all over the place rn so i might be a little slow on replies but im sending all of you virtual hugs!

Seriously, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT IN A GOOD HEAD SPACE.  

gif by @pascvl​

You lose your breath every time he walks into the room. Your heart beats faster when he passes by. Your skin tingles when his breath kisses your skin as he hovers over your shoulder. You think this is the feeling that they talk about in the movies. You think this is love. The thought makes your heart flutter.

His mind goes blank every time he sees you. His heart flares when he hears your laughter and he’s not the cause of it. His mind replays your conversations on an endless loop. He thinks this is the feeling that his father had told him about. He thinks this is love. The thought makes his stomach churn. 

●●●●

The betting pool is started by a new trainee looking to make some quick cash. He bet that he could get a confession out of Javier Peña before the year was through. When word gets out that there’s a wager for the office’s resident grump to finally ‘get his head out of his ass and admit his feelings’, agents from every department are quick to place their bets. It didn’t take a trained agent to see that the pair of you were hopelessly in love.

The pool gets spread so far up the ranks that even Messina hears the whispers. She turns a blind eye to the childish game. She knows that the rumours of their infamous philanderer in love were only that: rumours, half truths, lies. A man with his history wouldn’t know what love was even if it was staring him in the face.

Days turn into weeks, which turn into months but no amount of meddling by the trainees is enough to draw out an admission of his affections. Steve watches you from his perch on Javier’s desk as his partner stabs at the typewriter keys. “You could just talk to 'em instead of destroying government assets.” There’s a smugness in his voice that tells Javier that his meddlesome partner is smirking. 

“Fuck off Murphy.” Your laughter cuts through the bustling office chatter. Javier looks up to see a fresh-faced trainee leaning against your desk, taking up too much of your personal space for his liking. He grits his teeth and once again the sound of his furious typing takes over the room. Steve throws his hands up in mock surrender.

●●●●

The clearing of a throat has you turning your head over your shoulder, coffee pot in hand. Steve is leaning against the door frame with one eyebrow raised. You roll your eyes at him as you return to your coffee making. 

“What do you want, Murphy?” you call over your shoulder, feigned curiosity lacing your voice. You know what he wants. He has that look in his eye, the one that says ‘how many more times do we need to have this talk’. 

“Don’t give me that shit,” he starts. You raise an unamused eyebrow at him in return. He puts his mug down beside you, leans his hip against the counter and folds his arms as he turns to you. “If I have to slap him out of his daydream one more time, he won’t have a face anymore.” You scoff.

“You have no proof that he daydreams about me.” He opens his mouth to speak but your finger strikes his chest before he can. Coffee splashes against the inside of the pot dangerously as you move. “And even if he does, that doesn’t mean he’s in love with me.” Steve snorts at your words.

“Oh, he’s in love with you alright. He talks about you so much that even Connie’s getting fed up.” You shake your head in mock disbelief, an attempt to hide the sheepish smile creeping its way onto your face. The blond man sees right through your charade. “Just, tell him for fucks sake. I need my partner back if we’re gonna take down Escobar.”

You open your mouth to counter him but he’s out of the room before you can organise your thoughts. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his empty cup sitting beside yours. You huff out a laugh, “idiot.”

●●●●

Two months and countless Steve-terventions later, you’d decided that enough was enough. You were getting tired of living in the ‘what ifs’. You wanted to love and be loved by Javier Peña. 

The thought of planning some kind of grand extravagant gesture had crossed your mind but this was Javier you were talking about. He hated grand extravagant gestures. So you settled for just… telling him. No beating around the bush, no carefully-worded metaphors. Just you, your words and your heart. God, you hoped that was enough.

You’re getting ready to leave when the light reflecting off a nearby desk lamp catches your attention. Tracing it back to its source, you find Javier hunched over a heap of files. Spreads of paper are sprawled across every available surface. The corner of your lips turn upwards when he pulls a face at the document in front of him. 

You purse your lips as you contemplate your options: talk to him now, with nowhere to hide from the consequences of your declaration or talk to him during official work hours, where you could be spared prolonged embarrassment. Dozens of scenarios play themselves out in your head, your familiar daydreams altering themselves to fit the scene before you. You let out a puff of air as you settle on talking to him now. Fewer witnesses, for good or for bad. 

You dig around your drawer for your secret stash of snacks before making your way to him. He looks up when he hears the familiar rustling of the packet. A tired smile graces his face as you pull Steve’s chair around, dropping the packet onto his desk as you sit. You fall into the familiar routine and he hands you a nearby file. Occasionally, your elbows kiss and you exchange quiet apologies while pretending you don’t crave each other’s touch.

You’re sweeping stray sheets of paper into your hand when it dawns on you that the ‘right time’ will never come unless you make it. A determined exhale leaves you as you reach across his desk while he files the last of the paperwork. “I need to tell you something and I need you to listen to me.” 

The way you’re looking at him sends a chill down his spine. There’s a fire behind your eyes that he’s never seen before and he doesn’t know what to expect. He nods solemnly instead. This is it, he thinks. She’s going to tell me that I’m a burden or that I’m a fuck up. He braces himself for the news.

“I…” his eyes are fixed on you and you glance away briefly as your confidence wavers. Just tell him. He loves you too. Steve assured you of it. The sheets of paper rustle in your hand as you tighten your grip. “I love you, Javi.” 

Deep brown eyes widen in shock. His heart falters as the weight of your words sink in. He blinks at you hesitantly, wondering if he’d misheard. When you say nothing, fireworks explode in his belly as he searches for his words but- oh.

Why? Why him? Don’t you know of everything that he’s done? He left his high school sweetheart at the altar without so much as a goodbye. He didn’t even have the decency to send her an apology and he can barely bring himself to feel guilty. He’s lied, cheated, and killed without an ounce of remorse. Worst of all, he’d do it all again if it means getting Escobar. He was a monster and a killer. He doesn’t deserve love. Not after everything he’s done. Not after the way he treated his first one. So he does the logical thing. He pushes you away, puts up the barricades and lines them with barbed wire.

“You shouldn’t,” he replies. He jerks his arm away and turns his back to you, moving to store the file in the cabinet behind him.

“But I do. Javi, I-”

“No!” He slams the metal cabinet shut for emphasis. The scraping of rusty metal echoes through the room. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. But Steve had said!

“Just tell me you don’t love me too and I’ll stop. Tell me you don’t feel what I feel. Tell me that your heart doesn’t skip a beat when you make me laugh. Tell me that you don’t count the hours until you get to see me again. Tell me that you don’t wish it was me that you wake up next to instead of-” you choke on your words, instead of your ‘informants’.

He spins around sharply and you fix your gaze on him, desperately willing your heart to stop pounding in your ears. Fiery brown orbs stare back at you instead, void of their previous tenderness. He holds your gaze as he takes curt steps towards you. He’s close enough now that you can feel his breath on your face and your heart clenches in misplaced hope. Your breath hitches as he leans in. 

“I don’t.”

With two words, you see your world shatter before your eyes. You flinch back in response but he keeps going, leaning closer as you draw away. “I don’t love you.” His voice is cold and deadly. It’s icier than you’ve ever heard it and you’ve seen him threaten the devil’s right-hand man. You bite the inside of your cheek in a feeble attempt to stop the tears from welling in your eyes. He doesn’t mean it, you lie to yourself. He can’t mean it. He-

“I never have and I never will. You are nothing but a distraction to me.” He slows his words as he speaks, as if needing to emphasise them. “Do you think you’re important? That you matter? I can’t even tell you what colour your eyes are without looking at them first.” It’s a lie. But you deserve better than a screw up like him. He can’t give you the life you deserve, the life he needs you to live. The life that he wants but can never have. He can’t drag you into the endless pit of darkness that he’s learnt to call home. He won’t. 

He clenches his jaw and brings his lips to your ear, shoving down the urge to kiss you. “I could never love someone as pathetic and weak as you.” He whispers his words like a slow-acting venom, delivering his final blow. He knows he’s hit the mark when he hears the choked sob that leaves your body. He pulls away to see your fists balled at your side as tears glide down your face.

He didn’t have to do that. He could’ve just said no but he didn’t. Instead, he’d rubbed salt into unhealed wounds that you’d made the mistake of showing him. He wanted to hurt you and that made you angry. A quiet voice whispers that he’s hiding behind his words, that there’s more to the story. You silence the voice without a second thought because right now? You don’t care why he did it. All you feel is anger, and pain. 

The fire from before morphs into something sinister and you let the flames grow. It licks at your heart, daring it to explode, to unleash everything you’ve been holding back. So you let him burn in your rage. You let him burn and you drown out the screams.

“Fuck you, Javier Peña!” Your finger stabs into his chest in time with each word. “Fuck you and everything you fight for!” You flail your arms out wide. He flinches but you don’t notice. “All you care about is Escobar. You don’t give a shit who you hurt along the way, as long as you get what you want.” 

You scoff as you fold your arms across your chest. You’re breathing hard out of your nose and you hate the way Javier holds your gaze. You hate the way it challenges you to keep going, almost like he’s enjoying it.

You grind your teeth together as you calm the raging flames inside your chest. “No matter how you spin it Javier, whatever bullshit you tell yourself to get yourself to sleep at night... it’s just that. Bullshit.” You shake your head in frustration as you spin on your heels, turning to leave. 

A picture of him and Murphy falls into your line of sight and something sparks within you. An ember in the dying flames. You drag all the emotion out of your voice before speaking. You need him to hear your words without them being clouded by your fury. “When Murphy walks away from it all, he’ll have someone to go home to. You?” you glance over your shoulder to look at him, “you’ll never have anyone.”

He stays frozen in place until the sound of your shoes tapping against the floor has long since faded. A single tear rolls down the left side of his cheek. I wish it could be you.

——angstageddon tag list

@din-damn-djarin @ezrasarm @chaoticspaceidiot @engineeredfiction @pedropascalito @dreamgirl-67 @hillarymurray4 @wille-zarr @oloreaa @this-cat-is-dea @marydjarin @roxypeanut @cryptkeepersoul @agirllovespasta @wickedfrsgrl @dindisneydjarin  @opheliaelysia @aeryntheofficial @adikaofmandalore​ @goldafterglow​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @chibi-liz05​ @scarlettvonsass​ @rpcvliz​ @cinewhore​ @basura2319​ @theravenreads​ @mxndoscyarika​ @jaime1110​ @f0rever15elf​ @pancakepike​ @phoenixhalliwell​

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #angstageddon #kay writes

[schrijverr]

Raid on Crown of Five (The Bar)

Miekka tells the embellished story of the raid that happened on the Crown of Five down at the bar.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none, tell me if I missed anything

~~~~~~~~~~~~

They’d gotten their new round and settled down again in their chair once more. They waved with their hand and said: “But me jumping of a boat wasn’t all that interesting, more interesting was the first boat I sunk.”

There was immediate indignant replies from the sailors surrounding them. This was a natural response from anyone who worked on a ship, no one wanted to sink.

“Hey, hey, hey,” they called out above everyone, “It is not on me that you all forget what a pirate’s life is like while sitting safe on dry land.”

This was not the right thing to say if they wanted everyone to calm down, because everyone around them only got more indignant. Though, they didn’t seem to mind, just taking it casually as they leaned back in their chair and waited for everyone to sort themselves out.

It took a while, but then everyone did settle down again as one man demanded: “So why did you even sink that ship then, ey, high and mighty?”

More people supported him and they grinned as if this challenge was what they had been waiting for. They shrugged: “I mean, it was just a part of Admiral Teal’s fleet that had been on the edge of discovering Staketown Port, but I suppose you’d rather condemn me still.”

The man, William his name was, grumbled as he had to concede that that was a very good reason indeed to sink a ship.

“Admiral Teal?” Edmund asked.

“You don’t know who that is, lad?” the old sailor in the corner asked. Edmund shook his head and the old sailor grumbled something about the youth.

“Admiral Teal, young Edmund, was a harsh, fighting Admiral. High up in the Navy and ruthless out at sea,” the original speaker took back control, “And after old Gunpowder McGee had dealt him an embarrassing blow, he was determined to eradicate all pirates.”

Looking at their nails casually, they shrugged: “It was the dumbest decision of his career and cost him his life, but none of us knew that back then.”

They let a dramatic silence fall, before they said: “It was a calm day. No clouds, no whirlpools, a steady breeze and a harbor close. You could say it was perfect. Sadly, no good weather can last and neither can peace, for Stephan, our lookout,spotted a Navy ship on the horizon.”

“Which ship was it?” William still wasn’t completely convinced and hoped to trip them up.

“Crown of Five,” they replied without hesitation, smiling when William cursed.

“They’re speaking truth, William,” the old sailor said, “I recall that ship, it was a pride of the Navy way back, suddenly disappeared without a trace.”

“Really, Salim?” William asked.

“You think I wish to deceive you?” the speaker asked, slightly offended.

“Lies is more natural to you than talking,” William spat.

“I would be offended, but I could kill you right now if I wanted, but then my entertainment would be gone,” they said coolly, “Not even Adora, the best doctor I ever knew, could save you then.”

William quieted under the threat. He might be a grump, who had heard enough tall tales not to believe them, but he wasn’t stupid and he heard a threat someone could follow up on when he heard one.

“Great,” immediately cheeriness came back, “So there we were with a Navy ship sailing towards us at full speed. They fired at us the moment theycould and the whole ship rocked.”

They took a big sip before continuing: “I was assigned to bail the water from where we’d been hit. We had a big tank for the sirens below deck and we couldn’t afford the spilled water to pull us under with the water that was coming in from the hull.”

“Cannonballswhizzed around our heads as above us Krut, our gunner, made sure to give them a taste of their own medicine aswe prepared to board,” they were getting into their story, gesturing wildly as they talked.

“Were you one of the people boarding?” Edmund asked.

“No,” they answered honestly.

“Wha- why?” Edmund was confused.

“You have to understand, lad, that I was new aboard and as much as I had already accomplished, they weren’t sending me out without proof of undivided loyalty,” they explained.

When they saw Edmund understood, they nodded to themself, before going on: “Still, you have to understand that the Crown of Five was a big ship. Grade six. 150 men, while we only had 34. We were outnumbered almost 1 to 5.”

There were gasps from the audience, this was not sounding good, most knew out of experience.

“But!” gusto appeared back in their voice, “We had some insane sonsof a gun aboard, who were more than willing to smash their way through. Voyin and Tryke on their own are comparable to a small army.”

“Even so, a small army against a big army isn’t a fair fight and we were loosing by the time I had secured the ship below,” they said, “When I realized, I knew I didn’t have much time. Against my orders, I boarded the enemy ship through the holes in both our sides.”

They nudgeda lady next to them and winked: “All that cannon fire good for something after all, right beautiful?”

The lady blushed and agreed with a giggle.

“And there I was, in the hold of the Crown of Five,” they went on, building up tension, “I hadn’t been spotted yet due to all the fighting above me and if I didn’t succeed, we’d all be dead. It was do or die, with more chance of die.”

“My sword,” the gestured towards the weapon, “wasn’t enough, so a searched through their cargo until I found an axe. I grabbed it tight and hacked into the bottom of the hull and water started to stream in around my feet.”

“Did you get out?” the lady asked, big eyed.

“No,” they answered, much to everyone’s surprise, “The ship was sinking, sure, but it wasn’t sinking fast enough. I had to do more. I ran around almost hacking out the entire underside of the ship and it wasn’t long until they noticed.”

“What did you do?” Edmund gasped.

“I stood my ground, it was not necessarily me versus them, but them versus the water,” they smirked, very pleased with themself, “If they wanted to get me, they would have to fix the hull of the ship and by then that was impossible.”

There were some hoots and cheers at this point, which they accepted gracefully with a bit of glee.

“In the end, I left the Crown of Fivethrough the bottom of the ship and swam back, where I was fished out by Captain Redfright himself,” they said, “Once he’d realized what I had done, he gripped me by my shoulders and told me: ‘Miekka, I had underestimated you, my favor to you grows. Tonight we toast to you.’ And they did.”

“Wow,” Edmund breathed softly.

“We sailed to Staketown Port without trouble and the port was never found by Admiral Teal or any of his colleagues,” they finished.

#RR writing #RR Original #Miekka 'Siren Slayer' Walraven #Miekka Walraven #The Tales of Miekka 'Siren Slayer' Walraven #Edmund #Pirate OC #pirate #pirates #willaim #salim #the bar

[heart-eyes-kippen]

Quick lil tyrus fic

Hello here is a ficlet I suddenly had the urge to write:

TJ Kippen was perfectly content being ‘just friends’ with Cyrus Goodman. 

 There definitely weren’t moments where Cyrus would laugh, uninhibited, and his heart would ache with how much he wished there was something more between them.

 On casual afternoons like this one, when the sun was setting outside The Spoon and they were sat there in a booth together, completely alone, TJ could never help himself from leaning forward slightly.

 Cyrus would always mirror the action, resting his chin on his heads, and for a moment TJ swore the world would stop spinning as if somehow sensing the gravity of the moment

 They wouldn’t say anything, but they both somehow knew. 

 They knew there were unspoken words.

 They knew looking at one another the way they did was probably a little too friendly.

 But Cyrus never said anything, so TJ didn’t either. They would end up sitting there, occasionally glancing out the window, trying to be content with just silence.

 They were friends. 

 Friends that leaned a little too close to one another when they knew no one was watching. 

 ~

 “I’m starting to think you and Cyrus have some kind of telepathy thing going on,” declared Andi one day, handing over a blue bead.

 TJ processed the words for a moment, threading the blue bead, before shrugging slightly and waving her off. 

 “All friends have that.”

 “Well yeah, but you two literally just...communicate silently when we’re all together. It’s kind of like you’re in sync.”

 TJ thought it over some more. He thought about Cyrus, how he had become sensitive to every one of his facial shifts, to every uncomfortable smile, to every genuine smile, to every nod of reassurance, to the way the corner of his eyes would crinkle when he was trying not to laugh. 

 They always did seem somewhat separate from the group in that way, communicating through nods and looks and reassuring squeezes under the table. 

 But they were friends, TJ reminded himself. 

 Friends that always seemed to be in sync somehow.

 ~

 Even TJ couldn’t misinterpret what it meant when he found his eyes wandering down to Cyrus’ lips curiously, imagining what it what it would feel like to lean in some more and-

 “Earth to TJ?” 

 He shook himself out of it, focusing his attention back on Cyrus’ baby tater stage.

 “Sorry,” he blushed, grabbing a baby tater from the basket. “We can start the play now.” 

 No response. 

 TJ looked up curiously, ready to repeat what he had said, but the words died on his lips. 

 Cyrus was looking at him now, except there was a certain fire there that TJ hadn’t quite seen before. The fluttery feeling that began to fill his stomach was almost overwhelming. 

 It was brief, and it honestly may have been a very cruel trick of the light, but for a moment TJ swore that Cyrus’ brown eyes flickered down to his own lips.

 Being at The Spoon alone with Cyrus seemed to bring out some sort of boldness in him, because TJ found himself smirking slightly and lowering his gaze purposely from the boy’s eyes, to his lips, to the baby tater stage between them. 

 “So who’s Romeo and who’s Juliet?” he asked, voice soft. 

 Cyrus cleared his throat and looked back down again, a blush heating his cheeks.

 “You can be Romeo,” he responded. “I’ll be Juliet.” 

 TJ smiled.

 They were friends. 

 Friends that couldn’t seem to stop wondering what it would be like to kiss one another. 

 ~

 TJ looked across to where Cyrus was stood, feeling as though there was an invisible wall keeping them apart with how distant the boy seemed, his arms folded defensively against his chest.

 He tried to make eye contact. Cyrus continued to look anywhere but him.

 “I see you two are having fun,” he choked out, clearly trying to keep his cool. “I’ll just leave.”

 TJ reached out. Kira stopped him. 

 TJ tried to follow. Kira stopped him again. 

 “You don’t need him,” she said, voice low. “You don’t want people thinking-“

 “I know,” TJ responded softly, his head bowed. “I know.” 

 He looked after Cyrus one more time, heart aching with how desperately he wanted to fix things between them. 

 They weren’t friends. 

 But TJ spent every second of every day missing him. 

 ~

 “There is nothing wrong with you,” Cyrus said firmly, his eyes locked with TJ’s.

 They were stood at the swingsets, the wind howling around them and dark grey clouds looming overhead, but neither of them could care less about that.

 TJ let the words sink in for a moment, his shoulders relaxing with relief and his eyes fluttering shut. 

 “I’m sorry for not telling you,” he whispered, voice shaky. “I was scared.” 

 “I get it,” Cyrus assured, and TJ didn’t question it. He just wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him in as close as physically possible.

 “I’ll never do it again.” 

 Cyrus gave him a squeeze. “Okay.” 

 They were friends.

 And right then, that had to be enough for TJ.

 ~

 “You’re such a grump!” Cyrus giggled, twirling right out of TJ’s reach. 

 “Grump?! You stole my pencil!” the boy exclaimed, shaking his head as he advanced forward.

 The backs of Cyrus’ legs hit the couch then, but he made no visible attempt to escape any further. He just stood there, the sun streaming through the window and making his brown eyes sparkle, looking agonisingly perfect. 

 “That’s because you need to take a break from math,” Cyrus explained, laughing slightly and hiding the pencil behind his back as TJ stepped up to him. 

 “No I don’t,” TJ argued, knowing well this was a fight he was destined to lose.

 “It’s science, babe. Besides - math stresses you out too much,” said Cyrus, smiling when TJ gently placed both hands on his waist.

 “Okay, fine. I’ll take a break,” he mumbled, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to Cyrus’ lips. 

 The boy immediately melted, his grip on the pencil loosening just enough for TJ to grab it and step away again with a triumphant laugh. 

 “I win!” 

 “Hey - but - get back here!” Cyrus spluttered, running after him again. 

 They were boyfriends.

 And TJ finally didn’t have to be uncertain anymore.

#Literally have no clue what this is #but I got the idea and i was like YES #I AM WRITING THIS NOW #THIS IS A THING I AM DOING #I hope it's okay! #tyrus #tyrus fanfic #cyrus goodman #tj kippen #andi mack #my fics

[writinginstardust]

Love Me Not?

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader

Request: @x-avantgarde-x asked “Oh, hi! I wanted to request a Kaz X fem reader six of crows oneshot. After having broke up with Inej long ago Kaz and the reader start to build a relationship together, but Inej and Kaz remain having an amazing relationship, and whenever Inej is at Ketterdam they spent a lot of time together. This makes the reader really insecure and self conscious, and eventually Kaz and her have a conversation where she ends up opening to him.”

Warnings: minor injury

A/N: took a bit longer than planned due to a variety of reasons i’m not going into but here it is. it’s set several years after the end of Crooked Kingdom fyi. hope you like it darling! :)

Word Count: 2730

*

They'd broken up. They hadn't worked together. They weren't in love anymore. These were all things I knew but all certainties I struggled to believe as I watched Kaz and Inej embrace on the docks. They looked happy, so damn happy to see each other again after Inej had been away at sea for so long, and I felt an unpleasant tugging sensation in my stomach. I knew exactly what that tug was but it was ridiculous and i refused to name it. I wasn't even sure I had any right to feel it.

Kaz and I had never given a name to our relationship but we were more than just friends, much more. At least, I'd thought we were. Maybe he wasn't really over Inej even after almost two years. Maybe I'd read too much into every interaction and kind word. Maybe it was always meant to be Kaz and Inej not Kaz and me. Maybe that's why he'd never kissed me.

I pushed down my doubts as they walked towards me, arms slung around each other comfortably. It was a strange sight to see. When they'd broken up Kaz had still been somewhat uncomfortable with affection and contact. He could do it, I'd seen him and Inej hug and kiss and hold hands enough to know, but it hadn't felt natural for him. Seeing the ease compared to the last time they'd been this close was jarring. Knowing much of it had been thanks to my help wasn't an entirely pleasant feeling.

I plastered a smile on my face as they finally reached me and Inej pulled me into a hug. There was so much comfort in that embrace and it eased the ugly emotions clawing at my heart. She was one of my closest friends and i wasn't going to let anything spoil our reunion. Not the wind in the harbour chilling me to my bones, not the lingering stench in the air from who knows what, and certainly not my own insecurities.

“(Y/N), it's so good to see you! It's been too long. I can't believe I missed you by one day last time I came back.”

“I know, it's been far too long. I've missed you.”

“I've missed you too. We need to catch up tonight when we're done with whatever Kaz is dragging me off to do.” Well that was new information. He'd told me nothing about any plans with Inej so presumably I wasn't invited. It hurt to say the least.

“Absolutely, and none of the boys are allowed to join us. I need a break from them all.”

“I bet you do. The offer to join the crew still stands you know.”

“It is tempting sometimes but I'm not cut out for life at sea.”

“I'd have thought a little seasickness is easier to put up with than Mr. Grump over here.”

“I am not grumpy.” Kaz interjected with an eye roll.

“We weren't asking you. Anyway, let's get going, I need to get away from whatever this stench is.”

Inej kept us busy with stories from her latest voyage as we walked through the streets of the barrel and I had to admit I was a little in awe of all the things her and her crew had achieved. I could definitely understand why Kaz might still have feelings for her and I wished I could be anywhere close to how amazing she was.

When we reached the Slat I said my goodbyes and got a wave and smile from each of them before they dived right back into conversation, almost as if they'd immediately forgotten about me. Rather than going straight inside I watched them continue on their way for a bit. They were laughing and joking and touching each other casually. It was like they'd never even broken up.

With a defeated sigh I opened the door and walked into the chaos of the Slat. Someone, by the looks of things, had decided to start a fight. Whether it was amongst the members of the Dregs or someone from another gang had come to start shit with us, I didn't know. I just knew I was so not in the mood for it. I very nearly left them to it, they'd give up eventually, but they'd already caused enough damage and Kaz might kill me for letting them get away with it.

An elbow caught me in the stomach and a second in the eye and my my bad mood overflowed. I climbed onto one of the tables that had yet to be broken, an unloaded pistol in hand, and let off a couple of shots. Everyone quickly stopped in their tracks at the sound.

“Alright you rotten lot, I don't know what the fuck you think you're doing but you better knock it off right now!” I yelled, fixing them all with my deadliest glare. It rivalled some of Kaz's and I was very proud of it. “I don't give a shit who started this or why, Kaz and I will deal with that later, but you are all going to clean this mess up now. If it's not done by the time Kaz is back there will be hell to pay for all of you.” I moved to climb off the table and a few of the guys started to protest. “Don't start. I am not in the mood to deal with all of you today so if you want to keep your teeth shut up and get to work.”

I stormed off through the crowd, slightly pleased that everyone moved out of my way with no prompting, and headed up the stairs. I was more than ready for a nap. I paused half way and looked back down at where everyone had, thankfully, started to clear up.

“Oh one more thing,” I yelled down, everyone immediately turning their heads to look at me. “Keep the noise down. Wake me up and I might just kill you.”

*

It was long past dinner when I woke up, the protests of my empty stomach finally becoming impossible to ignore. I was a little surprised no one had woke me earlier, and by someone I meant Kaz. Then I remembered. Inej. Clearly they were still out doing who knows what. A stab of hurt and irritation hit me but I wisely chose to ignore it in favour of finding something to eat.

I found Jesper and Wylan in the Slat when I headed downstairs and did a double take. It was a rare occasion that they came around here anymore.

“(Y/N), hi!” Wylan grinned and waved when he saw me walking over.

“What're you doing here? I thought you'd be out with Kaz and Inej. We've been waiting for you all to get back.” Jesper gave me a quick hug and pulled up a chair for me.

“Thanks. Honestly, I've got no idea where those two are, they went off somewhere after we met Inej at the harbour.”

“You didn't go with them?” Wylan seemed surprised.

“I wasn't invited.” I shrugged, pushing down the hurt that tried to force its way up, and changed the subject to something much more important. “Have you guys eaten yet? I'm starving.”

“We haven't, you want to go get something?”

“Please.”

We left the overcrowded Slat and headed to one of Wylan's favourite restaurants, one I normally wouldn't be able to afford but wished I could. It was handy having a rich Merch friend sometimes.

I felt my mouth watering the second the scent of food met my nose and I couldn't wait to try whatever was making it. My appetite left suddenly, however, and was replaced by nausea when we entered. Kaz and Inej sat in a secluded corner eating and laughing and generally looking every bit the couple they'd once been, though admittedly a little fancier.

“I'm...I'm just...going to go. You two have a nice time.” I couldn't tear my eyes away from Kaz and Inej as I said goodbye to the boys and hurried away before I embarrassed myself doing something stupid like crying.

I went straight to my favourite waffle place and ordered my ‘I'm sad’ size stack which I drowned in syrup. That was where Kaz found me 20 minutes later. How, I wasn't sure, but I suspected Wylan or Jesper had picked up my feelings more than I'd intended.

“I wasn't aware you'd turned into Nina since this morning, should I be concerned about you stopping my heart anytime soon?” His voice came from behind me but I couldn't bring myself to turn and look at Kaz right then. Really I just wanted to be left alone but of course I wasn't going to get what I wanted.

“If only. Don't worry, you're safe from that particular end.”

“Good.” He walked to the other side of the table and sat down facing me, a concern so rarely seen written on his face. “Who gave you that?” His voice had hardened as he caught sight of the bruise blossoming around my eye.

“I don't know. They were having a fight in the Slat earlier and I got caught a couple of times before I could put an end to it.”

“Are you alright?” He reached out to brush his thumb over the injured patch of skin and I winced slightly before giving him a quizzical look.

“I'm fine, I've had worse. When did you become such a mother hen?”

“I haven't, I wouldn't care about pretty much anyone else.”

“I'm surprised you care so much about me.”

“Of course I care about you, why do you think I wouldn't?” He seemed genuinely surprised and a little bit hurt at what I thought. I didn't have an answer for him so I remained silent but that only seemed to concern him more. “(Y/N), you know how much you mean to me.”

“Do I though Kaz?”

It was his turn to be silent this time, unsure with how to proceed. He was far from the best at talking about feelings and this conversation was clearly tough for him. In the past I'd take pity and brush it off, change the subject and leave whatever it was unresolved but doing so was the problem, the reason this talk was even happening. I was tired of being uncertain and tired of letting Kaz not deal with his shit, we weren't kids anymore and this time we were going to talk it out.

“Do I?” I asked again. “Because as far as I can see I mean no more to you than Jesper or Wylan or anyone else you call a friend, even though your uncharacteristic worry right now would say otherwise.” I paused for a second, this was the tricky bit to actually vocalise. “I'm no one special, to you or anyone, not like Inej. She's amazing and talented and just so much better than I could ever be. I know I'm useful and one of only a handful of people you trust but I also know I'm replaceable. So I'm wondering why exactly you seem to care so much. Why you seem to care at all.”

He was silent for a little while longer, seemingly frozen by some emotion I couldn't figure out. I took a few more bites of my waffles while I waited for a reply.

“Is that how you really feel?” I nodded and he buried his head in his hands with a muffled curse. “(Y/N)..., none of that is true. None of it. You're not replaceable, you're so special and you mean more to me than anyone. I wouldn't be the man I am without you, surely you know that?”

“I know I've helped you a lot but anyone could ha-”

“No. There's no one else who could've done what you did, and some people did try. You're the only one I trusted, the only one I let my walls down for, the only one who wouldn't give up on me.”

“Inej wou-”

“Do you really think any of what Inej and I had would have happened without everything you did for me?” That was probably meant to make me feel better but it didn't really. Well actually...one word did.

“Had?”

“What?” He looked taken aback for a moment but it didn't take long for him to catch on. “Is that what all this is about? You think I still have feelings for Inej?” I focused very hard on my waffles suddenly.

“Well, don't you?” Kaz sighed and muttered something about being bad at this under his breath before scooting his chair closer to me and making me look up at him.

“(Y/N), I promise you, there's nothing between us anymore. Nothing. I thought that was obvious, that my feelings for you were obvious. I guess I'm just not the best at showing it.” I was a little surprised at just how tender he was being and, as he took my hands in his own and rubbed soothing circles with his thumbs, that surprise froze me in place. “Listen, I'm sorry if I've made you feel like you're not important to me because you are. You...are the most important thing in my life and I really thought you knew that. I'll do a better job at showing it from now on.”

“So you...uh, how...do you feel...about me...exactly?” I still wasn't entirely sure and, even if I thought I had an idea, I still needed him to say it.

“Well apparently it's obvious to everyone except you, but I love you (Y/N).”

“You do?” I could feel a smile working its way onto my face but I had to be absolutely sure.

“You know, when someone says ‘I love you’ it's usually polite to say it back.” He rolled his eyes but he was smiling too. “But if you need me to say it again then yes, I love you.”

“I love you too,” I said through a grin, so happy at the unexpected twist this evening had taken. The surprises weren't over though, I realised, as Kaz hesitantly moved one of his hands to rest against my cheek and his face to within a few inches of mine. He leaned in slowly, clearly nervous and unsure, and I stayed still to let him have the control I knew he needed.

The kiss was gentle and tentative, softer than anything I'd normally associate with Kaz but all the more magical because of it. He pulled away after a moment but only barely and flicked his eyes up to mine briefly before dropping them back to my lips and closing the distance again, a little more confidently this time. It was perfect. This time when we broke apart it was from a lack of air and as I caught my breath, a question formed in my mind.

“So...if you've felt like this for a while...how come you never kissed me before?”

“I didn't want to mess it up.”

“Well you definitely didn't mess it up. I'd even go as far as to say you did good.”

“Just good?”

“We can work on it.”

“I'm okay with that. Are you alright now?”

“I am. You can go finish having dinner with Inej if you want.” And I meant it. I was okay with their close friendship now I knew how Kaz felt and that friendship is all it was.

“No, it's your turn now. She's desperate to spend some time with you and from the sounds of it I've got to go instill some fear in some of our fellow gang members.” He smiled and squeezed my hand. “Go have some fun and come see me after, I'll wait up for you.”

“Okay. I need to pay for these waffles first though.”

“Don't worry, I've got it. Now go.”

“Thanks, I'll see you later.” I gave him one last kiss and practically skipped out the door. It felt like a weight was lifted. I knew where I stood with Kaz and it was better than I'd imagined, I finally got to spend time with one of my best friends, and the man I, perhaps foolishly, loved would be right there waiting for me when I came home. Everything was just a little bit brighter now.

*

Tag Lists: (send an ask if you want to be added!)

Everything: @wonderfilledness

Grishaverse: @thats-so-bucky

#Kaz Brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x you #six of crows #six of crows imagine #six of crows fanfic #soc #soc imagine #soc fanfic #reader insert

[dgmagines]

yknow, since I’m writing this separately instead of in an ask- I really think we should title it 👀👀 but what to title hmmmm please send in suggestions if you have them!! min’s monkey brain is throwing useless titles at min again and nothing seems to fit uwu;;

Anyways!! Here’s another part of the Bodyguard!AU brought on by Key’s request! owo It’s kinda short but I hope you enjoy!! qq w qq

[First] || [Previous]

“Isn’t it kind of weird to be sending this many personnel just for one person?” Allen mused, sipping on the cup of still-warm coffee in his hand.

“Makes you wonder what kind of information our neighbor has, huh?” Lavi grinned in response, his bones cracking and popping as he lazily stretched. He sighed in relief, dropping down into the chair opposite of his friend as he kept his eyes out on the (h/c) working the front counter.

Barely a month ago, they were sent to keep an eye out for this person – Komui claiming that a private company had hired them to do the job – but for what reason, it was still unknown. After the meet with the Noah clan on the first day of their move though, the higher up called them the next day with an objective change in place.

Their main objective was no longer to protect ______ _______. The Noahs had gotten close, and with them, another company was also fast approaching. The trio’s main objective, effective immediately, was to extract information without alerting the target while also keeping them alive.

Which, generally speaking, was easier said than done.

As ______ disappeared into the back of the shop, Lavi remembered how Alma had yelled at Komui and threatened to speak with this employer if they didn’t give them anything more to work on- What kind of information were they supposed to extract?! Even if it was highly classified, they couldn’t do their jobs with a simple “You’ll know it when you see it” order! That was some bullshit that would get them into trouble.

The eldest of the three was furiously working on pressuring the employers for more information, a scowl alien to his face now permanently etched on it. Alma was still strung high from his last mission it seems.

So far, they had found nothing about _______’s movements that were suspicious. No irregular activity, no shady men- hell not a hair was out of place! They looked like the perfect example of a good Samaritan which confused the agents to no end. No amount of digging was enough to uncover anything illegal.

Either they were really good with covering their tracks, or they just didn’t dabble in such things.

So they resorted to the initial plan of Allen trying to seduce the (h/c), in hopes of getting a whiff of the top-secret information they were supposed to keep out of the Noah’s hands.

“Lavi!” There was panic in their voice that immediately sent the two agents into high alert, their muscles twitching as they sought to move. Lavi was the first to stand already moving towards the counter to check on his fellow co-worker. Allen was working hard to calm his already shot nerves, turning around slowly and throwing an inquisitive look at the (h/c) as they rushed out from the back.

“I have to go, I have to leave-“ they were clearly frantic, shoving their things in their backpack as fast as they could. The (h/c) muttered a couple of incomprehensible words, Lavi shooting a look towards Allen that conveyed his confusion but also a warning to the white-haired boy.

This could be important.

“What’s wrong? I thought your shift doesn’t end for another half hour,” Lavi spoke nonchalantly as he turned back to face their target, a pout forming on his lips as _________  pulled their apron off and tossed it into some corner of the back-room. “Are you gonna leave me here? All alone?”

“Ah shush- you picked up everything really quickly so it shouldn’t be a problem. Besides,” they shrugged on their backpack, fixing their messy hair as they locked eyes with the redhead. “Manager’ll be here in a minute. I already told her about the situation but I’m really sorry to leave you early Lavi!” they threw an arm around him, squeezing him briefly before parting to look at Allen.

“and sorry Allen! Looks like you’ll be walking home alone for today,” grinning apologetically, _______ waved at the two men and dashed out of the café – completely missing the knowing look exchanged by the two friends at as they ran into the crowded street - thanking whatever deity that existed that it wasn’t raining heavily as it had been yesterday. It was hard enough running in that torrential downpour yesterday! They couldn’t afford to do that now; not when they had to get to something important.

A series of ‘excuse me’s and ‘I’m sorry’ flew from their lips as their already messy hair lashed at their face. Their breaths were coming out in short huffs now, panting as they willed their legs to run further – faster – towards their destination. Rounding the corner, ______ almost collided with baby stroller; a quick apology to the baffled woman and a string of curses at their carelessness all that was thrown to the wind.

With their legs burning and their lungs screaming for air, the (h/c) finally stopped in front of a company building. Allen, who had been running after them silently – and at a safe distance – watched as a frazzled brunette practically flew into the (h/c)’s arms, the flow of their conversation seeming rapid and panicked. He watched their neighbor tense as the brunette talked about one thing or the other, brows furrowing as they bit their thumb – a thinking habit he’d recognized from watching them for several days.

As subtlety as he can, the agent snapped a photo of the situation, sending the picture to Johnny to help identify the brunette. Allen was slightly surprised that the newcomer hadn’t just broken down right then and there – they looked like they had been awake for three days straight, had been attacked by a raccoon and wanted to bawl their eyes out if anything.

They stayed outside for all of five minutes before _____ ushered their frazzled friend inside. Allen lingered, watching the building for another couple minutes to look for anyone who might seem suspicious or was in league with the duo. When he couldn’t identify any, he moved himself to a convenience store across the street, hands going for the instant noodles and finding a seat that faced the building.

“Oi Allen! Where you at, man?” Lavi’s voice instantly filled the communication device as Allen turned on his earpiece. He winced at the loudness of his partner’s voice – something he would never get used to he supposed and leaned forward to rest his cheek in his hand.

“Watching our target. They met up with someone earlier and entered X Co. I already sent a picture to Intel so Alma will probably be getting something soon,”

“Nice going Allen!” Alma’s tired voice chirped from the device, the white-haired raising his brow at the apparent cheery tone his voice took on. He didn’t question it though – a cheery Alma is better than an angry Alma. We already had Kanda to be an angry grump.

“Luckkyyyy~ I wish I wasn’t stuck in some out of the way café with no one to tend to,” Lavi whined and Allen could just picture the redhead draping himself over the counter out of boredom. Allen heard Alma laugh at the younger’s attitude, probably shaking his head at why he had to be stuck with a bored Lavi on intercom.

“Oh please- watch duty is just as boring as waiting duty, Lavi!” Allen shot back, laughing at his friend’s boredom.

“Well, if anything happens let us know, yeah? Do you want me to take over? ______ doesn’t know me so it’s probably less suspicious if I was in that part of town,”

“No, it’s okay Alma. Stay and watch the house- who knows what those Noahs could be up to with _______ out of the house,” Allen huffed, ripping open the powder packet and dumping it in the steaming hot water. He stirred the contents of the cup with nonchalance, glancing briefly at the couple who had just walked in and was moving towards the snack aisle.

Didn’t he need to seduce their target soon? If clues pop up with this encounter, there’s a high chance that he would need to act.

He bid goodbye to his partners, turning off the listening device and resorting himself to his thoughts.

For the sake of getting it over with.

The sooner, the better.

Right…?

#imagine #au #alternate universe #bodyguard au #allen walker #lavi bookman jr. #lavi bookman jr #lavi bookman #alma karma #dgm #d gray man #d.gray man #d. gray man #dgm hallow #fanfic #dgm fic

[weeping-petals]

Orchestrating the Downfall

Word Count - 1,817

An au where Spinel is a Crystal Gem. Takes place after “We Need to Talk”  before Steven comes to be.

It startled Greg when the door opened and he was presented with Spinel, looking fed up and done with his mere presence.

“Do I... have the right house?” he began, scanning the threshold, as if he didn’t just stroll up the walk to a front door in the heart of Beach City. Honest, one couldn’t be too sure, with magical beings invested in showing him up at every turn.

“Depends,” sneered the Gem. “What’s your cut and facet?”

“Uhhh.....”

“Kidding.” Spinel swung away in her slinky like manner and strutted through the home, as if she were a natural element. “Vidalia! The boyfriends here!”

“BoYFRIenD?!!  No-no, she and me are just good friends. It’s not like- “ He stuttered on, while Spinel snorted a laugh “ - I’m just giving her a lift -”Spinel’s shape looked on the verge of unraveling.

“Chill out. I meant you and Rose. You and Rose are a thing, right?”

They stopped in the living room. Spinel stretched in close and was giving him a very feline grin, as if relishing some private joke. He hated when she and Pearl did this. He sweated bullets, trying to come up with some winning quip.

“Is it that... obvious?”

That was not a winning quip.

Spinel lost it.

“What are you even doing here?” He brushed past the unraveling noodle, trying to hide how red his face felt. “I thought I had babysitting duty today.”

“Aw, you don’t want company? Rose and Garnet are out on Mission, so you won’t- “ A crash cut through the sentence. Spinel stiffened and bolted from the room. Greg was quick to follow, yelping, 

“Sour Cream!” He took the stairs two at a time, huffing and scrambling, while Spinel scaled them in two bounds. He was in such a rush that he nearly plowed into her, when she halted cold turkey in the room the sound originated.

“If you break these, we won’t have someone able to fix them.” 

Amethyst lay strewn over an upturned stool, a grin plastered on her face and hair disheveled.

“You’ll have to turn into a pole. And that’s where you’ll spend your remaining years, holding up cloth. Doing the... nuclear orb blotty... thing.” Spinel stepped over and plucked up the pole in question, with the drapes attached. The window where Amethyst tumbled from expelled the bright dawn light, the harsh rays caught and refracted through the Gem stones on both of the alien beings.

“Or we could use a broom handle,” Amethyst chirped.

Spinel cocked her head and stood back. “Or we could use a mop handle.”

“Or a tree branch.”

“Maybe a sword.”

“One of Pearl’s spears?”

“One of Pearl’s spears,” Spinel echoed, as if the concept appealed. “Ye. Or, y’know, we could not break the poles.”

“You were taking fooooreeeeveeerrrrr. Hey Greg!” Amethyst waved. Awkwardly, Greg returned the gesture.

It was always nice and very semi-human to see the two helping, though he wished they did this stuff more when he and Rose were out together. Probably the reason why they were here helping, because Rose was busy elsewhere and he was here sort of busy, so no saboteur work was planned. Geez, they could be so nice sometimes /sarcasm.

“I heard the distinct sound of someone wrecking my hovel. That’s the complete opposite of what you said you’d do. ” Vidalia came to the doorway and peered in, while fixing her shirt. “Could you give them a hand? I need five more seconds.” She fixed Greg with a glare.

“Oh, yeah. I’m not really good with handy-man stuff, though.”

“You’ll learn. They’re extenders, anyway. I’m sure you can’t complicate that business more than them.” Amethyst chuckled.

“Please hurry,” Greg called in the void Vidalia left. “Okay, so just pinning up blinds. Easy peasy”

“They’re like sideways flags.” Amethyst rolled over and snatched at the one Spinel held, missing when the taller Gem swept backwards.

“’Can’t complicate this.’” Spinel hissed, rolling up the cloth on the staff. “Oh, pssh-lease, this is so basic.”

“Where are the instructions?” Greg posed, dead-pan.

“There were no instructions.”

“I know. I would’ve eaten them.”

“She would’ve - “ Spinel did a double-take. “Did you eat them and not tell me?”

“No!” Amethyst made another move to grab for the pole. “You said I could help!”

“Helping involves two people.” Spinel inched sideways, this time flipping the pole over her shoulders, and twirling it over the upper area of her lithe arm. Greg took a step back while she continued, the staff a whirling blur above the Gems pigtails. “And when you don’t do like you’re told, you miss out on the fun stuff.” Amethyst looked utterly defiant, and on the brink of shoving Spinel, the way a toddler might glower up at a know-it-all uncle. Or aunt.

“Hey, c’mon, you’re gonna wind up breaking it,” Greg spat. He pressed himself against the edge of the doorway, convinced the staff would go rogue at any moment and spear him. “I’m just here to help!”

Spinel glanced his way, the helicopter of a staff halted braced across her lower back. “What can you do then?” She plucked Amethyst up and dropped the smaller Gem onto her shoulders. “Aside from steal hearts?” She tossed the pole to Greg, and he fumbled to catch it, not so gracefully. Spinel grinned.

Greg set his eyes on the corner, where more of the poles and unopened drapes slanted and waited. “I can... put up more of these curtains, than you both. Combined.”

“We’re not fusing,” Spinel snapped.

“We’re not! - ” Amethyst sprawled herself between Spinel’s pigtails. “⁻ ʷᵉ’ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵘˢᶦⁿᵍ?”

“No, I mean - you two working together!” Greg choked. “I bet I can get ALL the blinds hung, before Vidalia - ”

“Okay, ready.” The so named human returned, casting an unimpressed eye from Greg to the yawning window, and her helpers. “Wow. You guys made progress. I’m impressed.”

Greg sputtered. The Gems snickered at his back. 

“Look after my boy, you two! Or else.” Vidalia waved them off. Not the scorning, intimidating threat she’d given him, the first day he took on the babysitter role.

It was when he was downstairs, barely, that they erupted into a monstrous batch of giggles and unrestrained laughter. All at his expense.

__

“You shouldn’t let them get to you,” Vidalia spoke, at last. She sat with her arms crossed gazing through the windshield. Greg still felt some unseen stare, judging him and smiling at every shortcoming.

“They’re - “

“I JUST DON’T GET IT! What do they have against me? JUST’CAUSE I’M DATING THEIR FRIEND! Pearl especially, don’t get me started on that stuck up bird! GRRR!” He actually said GRR.

“Watch the road.” Technically, he didn’t take his eyes off the road, but he was very-very distracted. “The way Amy tells me, Rose is more than just a friend. The way they talk about each other, they’re all family.”

“Yeah, but - y’know. I really like Rose. I never felt this way about anyone, ever, and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. In a... emotional way. Actually,” He ran a hand through his hair. “The night we, she and I, we danced. I tried some stuff. I was worried she didn’t see me the same way I saw her. Pearl said something really messed up, and she kind of supported the idea - not intentionally. It’s hard to explain.”

“Don’t miss the turn. How so? Give it a try.”

Greg did his best to explain the night, the recording session. And about fusing. He still wasn’t over it. Yeah, he and Rose talked, but he still wasn’t sure about their relationship, though it had been months. Things came a part, and mended, but it wasn’t the same. He was getting better at the relationship thing, and so was Rose, he was convinced. 

Maybe relationships for the Gems was as an alien concept, like the way relationships between human's was. Vidalia called them a family, but they didn’t always act like a family. It was more like a group of people coexisting, because they didn’t have an alternative. From what he gathered in conversations he picked up from, and from Rose directly, they were the only ones on this planet. They only had each other.

“And they’ve been together for ages,” Vidalia surmised, after some discussion. “Not a lot of change happens around them, but they see a lot of change. You come out of left field and sweep their friend, who they idolize, off her feet. The lot of them are going to be a little snippy.”

“A little?” Greg snickered.

“It’s a red light. You should slow down.”

“Huh?” What did she - Oh! A red light! He touched the break.

“They’re probably jealous, and resistant of some change. And let’s not forget, protective. Kids are the same way, and sometimes they’ll reject a new parent. It’s not the same if it’s a friend to their parent, or a loose acquaintance. Building a special bond with someone, in an intimate way, can rile up a family. Have you thought that you’re seeing this as a problem your’re having with them, and not a problem they’re having with you.”

Greg sighed and leaned a little on the steering wheel. “No, it’s kind of hard to be sympathetic with creatures orchestrating your downfall.” He paused. “At every turn.”

“Find some patience. Also, they’re not orchestrating your downfall.” Greg huffed and looked out the driver window, fogging the glass with his breath. “Actually, Spin’s pretty thrilled about you.”

“Oh, is she?” he grumped, voice flat. “Hard to hear that broadcast buried under all those jeers.”

“Yeah, she’s being hard on you. I’ll talk to her, if you want. Subtlety.”

“No. Thanks though. This is probably something I’ll have to get used to. Or deal with.” But man, if Pearl gets into the equation with the terrible two-o, he was done for. Was it really all worth it?

He recalled the night he and Rose danced, and the kiss.

“You’re smiling? What’re you thinking about?”

“Nothing! It’s nothing!”

“Green light, boyfriend. I’m gonna be late for work.”

Begrudgingly, Greg tried to put his focus back on the road. “Geez, Vidalia, when did you get so good at listening and talking?”

“The mom life.” She smiled, and it was warm, and she seemed approachable, understanding, and full of wisdom. Beyond her age. “You think about a lot of eventual things when you’re taking care of a kid. You wanna do it right the first time, because that’s the only chance you got.”

Greg was dazzled by the insight. Yeah, it kind of was the only chance she’d get, to make sure Sour Cream didn’t wind up like his father, or worse, soured by the ideas his father had left.

“Hey, have you... had much contact with Marty, since....” he trailed off.

“Not much.” Vidalia sighed. “And I prefer it that way.”

#su #steven universe #spinel fanfic #steven universe fanfiction #spinel fanfiction #greg universe #vidalia #amethyst fanfiction #spinel crystal gem au #steven universe au #greg universe fanfiction #spinel #amethyst #rose quartz #pearl #garnet #steven universe the movie

[chrysalispen]

kiss prompt fill: “because i’ve missed you”

taking a break from the other thing i was working on to write this thing. i realize this is a trope i’ve done a few times now, but in my defense it’s mostly because this man’s real and true alignment is Chaotic Dumbass and we all know the second the WoL fucked off to the First Reflection he’d be 1000000% back on his bullshit, said bullshit including ‘forgoing basic self care such as eating, sleep, and/or hydration for the chance to get his hands on that sweet sweet Allagan technology’ 

that said i legit don’t know if i’ll toss this one on AO3 or not, because it was mostly a writing exercise in working out how this character would react to everything that had happened once the dust had settled, and i’m not really confident enough to post it anywhere outside my tumblr. maybe. we’ll see ;

anyway, spoilers for end of Shadowbringers MSQ under the cut, don’t read unless you’ve finished the game.

========================================

"Your timing couldn't be better," Cid said as their footfalls pounded up the staircase. "Godsdamned fool gave himself a cold while he was afield, probably sitting out in the elements and tinkering with something. He and I were arguing about... well..."

"His abrupt departure from the Ironworks, I assume," she supplied with a sigh.

"Yes, actually-- and he looked about to drop dead on the spot. Jessie helped me strongarm him upstairs and into bed. He protested, of course. Loudly. I'm fair certain all of the Toll heard him swearing at us."

"You've not called a chirurgeon?"

"He wouldn't let us. You know how stubborn he is." He shrugged, expression tight with annoyance. "I thought maybe he'd cry uncle if we just gave him his wish and let him suffer a bit, but he hasn't attempted to get out of bed even to come rifle through his schematics-"

"That is very unlike him."

"I know. Mistress Tataru let it slip you'd returned, so..."

"You want me to get him back in fighting shape so you can shake Rowena's money out of him," the Warrior of Light said dryly.

"Something like that."

"Guest room?"

"Guest room."

A familiar figure was curled up into a tight ball beneath the thin quilt when they walked through the door. All that was readily visible was a stray tuft of pale blonde hair, disheveled and half-scattered over a down pillow.

"For the last time, go away," a hoarse and slightly nasal voice growled. "Must I repeat myself? This is humiliating enough as it is without your hovering."

Cid crossed his arms, casting his eyes heavenward as if to say you see what I've been dealing with in your absence?  "Nero, I'm not going to have you expire in my godsdamned workshop. You are going to see a chirurgeon whether you like it or not.”

“Like hells I will.” This punctuated by a series of hacking coughs.

“I've brought-"

"I don't bloody care who you brought, Garlond. Bugger off, both of you," the sick man grumped. "I'll be fine with a day's rest."

Aurelia sat down on the edge of the bed. Without looking she reached over Nero's shoulder and pressed her left hand against his brow, right over his third eye, as if checking his temperature. The gesture was a very rude one, but she wanted him to focus on her presence in a way he physically could not ignore (and she figured the two of them were well past concern over etiquette anyway).

As she'd expected, that svelte frame tensed and she felt a calloused hand grip her wrist in surprise. His palm was paper-dry and hot as a furnace.

"Cid," she said calmly without looking over her shoulder, "if you happen to have any pine resin on hand, could I please have two or three cakes? Also, I'll need water and some stones. Flat smooth-sided ones."

"Pine balsam? What are you going to do, hero, mop the floor?" the other engineer muttered between coughs, voice half-muffled beneath his blanket. Cid and Aurelia both ignored him.

"Jess handles procurement, but I'm sure we'll have something that common in storage. The stones will take a bit longer, I think. I'll go have a look myself and leave you two be for now." 

Bless you, Cid. The meaningful look her best friend gave the two of them, his gaze drifting over to the man in the bed, had not been lost on her. Nor was the tiny smirk playing about his lips, crinkling at the corners of his eyes as though he and Aurelia shared some secret jest.

The door had barely shut behind him when Nero mumbled: "Hadn't expected you back for moons yet."

"I hadn't expected me back either." Aurelia sighed, lifting her hand from his forehead to gently run her fingers through his mussed, sweat-dampened curls. "There's some unfinished business, but the immediate threat is gone."

"Threat?"

"The Ascians, you remember them-"

"Black robes, red masks? 'Course I do." Another cough. "What caper were they up to this time?"

"One that very nearly killed every single one of us, myself included, without our knowledge."

When he didn't answer, she decided to just tell him as much of the whole truth as she thought he could stomach. There was no easy way to say any of it without sounding mad, anyroad. 

"Suffice to say some very old academic assumptions about aetherology were incorrect, Varis is an even bigger bastard than I took him for, you lot - the Ironworks, that is - pieced together how to construct a temporal stasis reactor before you all died, Biggs and Wedge's grandchildren used those notes to enter the Crystal Tower and use it as a channeling focus to move its one inhabitant across time and interdimensional space and he's the one who was calling us all this time - you remember G’raha Tia, of course you do - I found out the others are fine and their souls are just trapped somewhere else, I met Solus zos Galvus, who is- was- actually an Ascian and somehow that wasn't even close to the most outrageous thing that happened-"

"Aurelia-"

She held up a hand.

"Then I found out that the Garlean Empire was brought into being specifically to end the world as we know it and make all of us blood sacrifices to Zodiark so the Ascians could resurrect their friends from the dead. ...Also I was very nearly turned into a hideous world-ending monster, but I'm fine now," she finished tiredly, passing a hand over her eyes. "I think that just about covers everything of import. The other Scions say hello, by the by."

"Aurelia."

"What?"

He released her hand, threw one arm around her waist, and rolled over with a pained grunt.

"...What are you doing?"

"Welcoming you back, what's it look like?" His head tilted slowly side to side against her bosom. She heard the wet sound of his inhale, or his attempt at one before he convulsed in another coughing fit. “Hells, I feel like death.”

"Don't expect my sympathy. It's your own fault. I told you you'd catch a cold up there if you weren't careful."

Nero shrugged. "If I die, at least now I can die as happy as any man in this hard old world could expect."

She felt his other hand slip beneath her shirt and her camise, riding up just below the curvature of her breasts. 

Catching him by the wrist, she glared down at him. "Before you even ask, we are not trysting in Cid Garlond's guest bedroom. I don't think you could manage it even if I were game."

"All work and no play as usual." Mock pouting, he rolled over onto his back, but did not remove his hand from its place beneath her shirt. 

Hot fingertips traced light patterns over the surface of her stomach, and she understood that his banter was just banter-- what he wanted was the contact. She relaxed against the down pillows on the headboard and continued to run her fingers through his hair. "Scaeva, you know damned well you'd choke on your own phlegm the moment I sat on your face."

Nero let out a surprised, spluttering cackle that quickly ended in another coughing fit. "Please don't make me laugh," he gasped, rather plaintively. "Feels like a godsdamned gigas is sitting on my chest every time."

"I'm sure it does. You've likely let your cold turn into pneumonia, because you're possibly the most idiotic smart man in all Hydaelyn."

"Ah, how the wheel of time does turn. That Academy-trained bedside manner of yours rears its head once more."

"You should be glad of my training right now. Cid was absolutely correct in trying to force you to see a chirurgeon." She leaned over and kissed him right above his third eye. "I'm going to impose disgusting potions and bed rest upon you, and you can't escape me."

He let out a groan, one arm flung dramatically over his eyes. A stray platinum blond curl escaped to flop sadly over his wrist. "My hero."

"I'm serious. If you try to leave this bed before I say you can, I will find you."

"All right, all right! I will put up with Garlond for a day or two lest I incur the eikon-slayer's wrath. Satisfied?"

"Yes. Now sit up. You can lean on me while I fix your pillows."

"Lean on y-" Nero glared up at her, obviously insulted. "I'm not an invalid."

The flat, unimpressed stare she leveled in his direction would have made Emet-Selch proud. 

After a moment's attempt at defiance and an exasperated muttering beneath his breath which she chose to ignore, Nero finally propped himself up into a half-sitting position with his back against her chest, the expression on his face something approaching mutinous. 

Aurelia patted a cheek made even rougher with stubble than usual-- likely he hadn't shaved in a day or two. He was wearing an old work tunic, half-undone with most of the buttons fastened through the wrong holes, as if it had been done in a hurry. Her palm flattened briefly over the soft mat of wiry hair on his partially exposed chest.

"So..." she said after another beat of silence, "that's that, is it?"

"What's what?"

"You're just... not going to comment on all that information I dropped on you? Not your death? Not Cid's time machine? Not even 'oh yes by the way the Emperor was an Ascian'?"

"Would it make you feel better if I pretend to be shocked by that last revelation? We both grew up in Garlemald's loving clutches," he scoffed, glancing up at her with fever-bloodshot blue eyes. "We have a continent-spanning war machine, darling. It don't exactly scream 'peaceful land of flowers and kittens', does it?"

She poked him in the chest, gently, but with enough emphasis to make him wince. "You were a cog in that machine until fairly recently, Tribunus."

"As were you."

"Yes." Aurelia's amused smile faded. "I suppose neither of us are innocent."

"I suppose not." He shivered, coughing again, and that was her cue to draw the blanket back over them both. She tucked her head against his, both her arms now draped loosely about his shoulders. One of his hands closed over her forearm and gave it a small squeeze.

She leaned forward, but Nero saw immediately what she was about and tilted her chin to the side with two fingertips before their lips could meet. "None of that, love, not unless you plan to join me in this misery. Save it for later."

Aurelia knew he was right--he was in fact being downright sensible, for once--but she felt a stab of disappointment anyway. When she'd entered the Ocular from the Norvrandt side she'd been half-drowning in homesickness and grief, and she'd been looking forward to sleeping in her own bed and bathing in her own house and just... letting all of the stress wash away, really. But she'd been looking forward to-

A hand closed about her wrist and lifted and Aurelia felt the press of his lips, a kiss that was warm and careful and very soft, against her open palm. Then he carefully placed it against his rough cheek and laced his fingers through hers, mouth curved in a faint and rather bleary-eyed smile.

"Missed you," he murmured--then promptly sneezed.

She laughed, despite herself.

"I missed you too," she said lightly. "Now go back to sleep. I've got work to do."

#chrysalispen writes #nero x wol #established relationship fluff #shadowbringers spoilers #in which cid is aurelia's best wingman

[pkmntrashcan]

Dear airplane write something down lonashipping lane, maybe with number 42?

dancing in the moonlight 

complete ☀︎ | AO3

send me things to help break my writer’s block :) | 2. ”Why are you shaking?”

–

“Are you sure you’re not nervous?” 

Gladion’s eyes flickering down to the top of Moon’s head as she nimbly worked on fixing his crooked tie. Her voice soft, calm, almost overly-concerned.

“Why would I be nervous?” he chuckles, meeting her warm gaze with his own knowing one. The preparations for this had been long coming. His official induction to take over Aether after years of preparation, and training, and clean-up. He had practiced his speech, prepared to expect the messiest of questions thrown at him, gone over every possible negative outcome–

Moon just hums, interrupting his train wreck of thoughts, as her hands stop moving and her eyes flicker up to his before she flashes him a smile. And on any other typical day that smile would cause his stomach to feel chaotic Butterfree.

But today wasn’t a typical day.

And Moon was more beautiful up close than he’d like to admit. The welcoming ceremony had both of them dressed up more than usual, the dark blue gown resting on her curves, soft curls framing her face, makeup that didn’t dare cover the freckles splayed out on her nose. But as she gazes at him Gladion wished it was only a twisting stomach he felt. Instead his skin felt hot as her fingers fixed his collar. His heart picked up in pace underneath her stare. His throat went dry at the exposure of her smile..

“So, why are you shaking?”

The usual playful lilt in her voice was missing. Moon’s grin staying genuine and kind, but she didn’t need to know he was nervous for what came after. 

For the portion that couldn’t be rehearsed into exhaustion. Too many factors out of his control. The music, the timing, the  sheer possibility that she would say no.

Asking her to dance with him would be more nerve wracking than any old speech.

But before he could muster up the “I’m fine” he feels her hand move away from his neck and onto his face. The determined look she had throwing him off guard until suddenly he felt her squish. The melodic sound of her laugh not helping his cause at all. She had a habit of finding a way to make his frown disappear.

“Don’t be a grumpy grump, Gladi,” she cooes, her hands not moving away from the pressing of his cheeks. His brow relaxing as an scoff tries to escape his lips. “You’ll do great, I know it.”

He couldn’t help to scan the crowd when he stepped up to the podium. Looking, searching, seeking for a familiar head of dark hair–and when he sees her in the crowd lifting two excited thumbs up in his direction he graced everyone in attendance with a smile for once.

The second it was over and the music could be heard swelling, he moved fast to find her. Body twisted to avoid collisions, head turning in multiple directions. The ballroom was large, and he wasn’t sure where Moon would head to–he saw her in the crowd until the clapping faded. But as he makes one final circle around the dance floor he catches moonlight leaking in from the balcony, and there under the sky stood Moon.

So he calls her name out. Music softly seeping in through the open door. Her hair shifts as she turns, the sparkles of her dress dancing like stars, the soft illumination on her skin not making this any easier for himself.

 He was speechless. Breathless. In complete awe. Moving forward without hesitation.

“Why’s the Champion of Alola standing here all alone?” he teases, watching her eyes roll so easily as the corner of her lips curl up.

“You did great!” Moon answers instead as he stops to stand right in front of her. His looming figure forcing her to look up and be greeted with the knowing look that would pry any real answers out of her. So she sighs in defeat, shrugging her shoulders.

“The Champion doesn’t really fit into this crowd, President.”

“Then I’ll join you,” he responds all too quickly, noticing how her eyes grew wide. How her cheeks were now a soft rose. It wasn’t the first time Moon had grown uncomfortable in the pomp and glamour of Aether donors–it also wouldn’t be the last time Gladion ditched to stand by her side.

“You don’t have to–you have people you should talk to and mee–”

“Moon,” he interrupts, staring at her with resolve and clarity, as her words stumble to a halt.  “I want to,” he announces, his hand now reaching towards her. The shakiness not visible in the low light as her eyes flicker from his face to his hand and back to his eyes.

“I also wouldn’t mind my first dance being with you.”

And when he feels Moon’s hand in his and the teasing “is that a statement or a question, Gladion?” he realized asking her wasn’t as hard as he thought.

And the first dance she was.

And the second.

And the third.

#lonashipping #gladion x moon #pokemon fanfic #myfics

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

Lost in Translation

Title: Lost in Translation

Fandom: Star Trek

Pairing: Mckirk

Rating: Explicit

Tags: minor character death, hurt, little bit of self destruction, stranded, possible smut down the line, new addition... there will be fluff!!

Summary:

    “Attention citizens. This is the crew of the Enterprise asking for your aid. On Stardate 2264.78 a shuttle manned by our captain and fourteen cadets was ambushed by an unknown source and chased out of sight of our ship and into open space. Those cadets as well as our captain, James Tiberius Kirk, are still missing. We are asking anyone with any information on their whereabouts, or regarding the attack, to please contact the Enterprise immediately. Our family would appreciate any assistance you can give.” 

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Special Thanks: wanted to give a huge shout out to my girl Katie, AKA @goingknowherewastaken for being a huge inspiration for this fic as well as for being a huge help (especially when it comes to putting up with my frantic ramblings lol) you're awesome boo <3

A/N: So this is a work in progress but it’s basically finished and I’ve been making great headway with this recently, so this will be the first fic I’ve ever finished! Woohoo!! And I'm thinking that I’ll probably stick to a Sunday post schedule.

    Also a little note for y’all to keep in mind while reading. I have tagged this fic “possible eventual smut” and that’s because right now I don’t have any planned buuuuut… I'm going to leave that option up to you guys! Between the readers here and AO3, if you're still with me by the end of this fic, leave a comment and let me know if you would be interested in an epilogue or end scene with smut. I’ll post a reminder at the end, but keep it in mind while reading.

    And if anyone is interested in being tagged for future posts for this fic or any others I may post, please let me know and I’ll add you to the list! Thanks for reading <3

Chapter 4:

    The storm was raging, and had been now for almost two full days and nights. Now on day three of the torrential down pour Jim was at his wits end. Still with an injured knee, he limped around their crappy shelter as best he could while attempting to patch it up. There were holes everywhere it seemed, and he had run out of shuttle scraps to use for repairs. Water was coming into the shelter from every angle, the ground beneath them was soaked, his already suffering cadets were shivering and with injuries so bad he couldn’t risk moving them, and he was sure his worst fear was coming true.

    After last night’s winds and brutal drop in temperature, two of his young cadets had woken late that day with deep, chesty coughs. Pneumonia. And what could he do about it? Nothing, absolutely nothing, not a god damn thing and he hated himself for it. He had tried to get his cadets off the ground as best he could, tried to keep them warm and dry, but one man could not fight the endless amounts of rain this storm was throwing at them. And it seemed, from what Jim could see, there was no end in sight.

    After one last failed attempt at fixing more holes, Jim ducked into the shelter to check on his crew. They were holding on, they had been for ten days so far, but who knew how much longer that would last. The two cadets who had definitely come down with pneumonia were still coughing, struggling to breathe in the driest corner of the shelter. And of the other five, three were in and out of consciousness, and the last two were more then likely going to be fighting infections as bad as Colten’s was. 

    With nothing more he could do, he pulled himself to lean against the back wall of the shelter. He leaned his head back against the cold metal, the sound of the rain hammering on the metal scraps of their shelter drowning out his worries for the time being. He allowed sleep to take him in hopes that tomorrow would bring the familiar faces of his bridge crew, and the handsome doctor he found himself craving more and more each day. As his eyes slowly closed he thought about strong hands on his face, arms wrapping tightly around him and pulling him close, firm fingers running through his hair as a melodic chant of “Jim, Jim I'm here, it’s ok,” drawled in a sweet southern accent pushed him closer to sleep. And just before his eyes closed completely, a whispered, “Bones…” left his lips and he was finally asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Captains log, Stardate 2264.89. Last night was probably the best sleep I have had since the crash. I had hoped that perhaps today would bring better fortunes for me and my remaining crew, but unfortunately it was exactly the opposite. Some time in the night we lost two more members. Cadet Owen McDouglas had not only injuries from the crash, but possible pneumonia as well. And Cadet Obnerick Niich, I know he had some pretty bad injuries, but the actual cause of his death I am afraid I will never know. He was one of the members I thought might make it through to rescue. His injuries were not as severe as most others, yet he was gone before I woke up this morning…”

    Jim was sitting at the edge of the shelter, looking out into the haze of rain still pouring from the sky above. He was cold, fed up, angry, and soaking wet. All he wanted was to get to the ship, to beam aboard and head straight for his best friend, to Bones, to home. But he had no way of getting there, no way of getting any sort of signal to them, or communication. Getting home was looking more and more like it was never going to happen.

    “I hope that the admirals…” he stopped, shaking his head. At this point who cared what the admirals thought, he certainly didn’t. If they ever found the wreckage and his comm, Jim wasn’t making these logs for them, he was making them for Bones. Yeah, the admirals would want to know what happened to him and each individual crew member that passed in their time on the planet, but that didn’t mean they actually gave a rats ass about any of them, but Bones would. Bones would not only want to know what had happened, but would care about what happened to him. And if anyone knew that grump of a doctor it was Jim, and he knew that Bones would not give up until something was found. And if the only thing he found was this comm, then Jim was going to make sure that Bones knew he was thinking of him too. “You know what, I don’t give a damn what the admirals think. Bones… I'm sorry for this, for all of it. But I want you to know that I'm not sorry that you weren’t on this shuttle with me, things are bad down here, really bad. Most of my fourteen are either dead or… or dying, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if that was you, Bones.”

    Jim reached up with his free hand to wipe away a stray tear before continuing, “But I'm not giving up yet. I’ve still got five cadets counting on me, and I know you won’t let me go so easily. If I can count on anyone in this galaxy, it’s you, Bones. I know you'll find me…”

~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Captains log, Stardate 2264.9-” Jim paused, he felt like he couldn’t breathe let alone finish his sentence. Fourteen days in, fourteen days shipwrecked on this so far deserted planet, fourteen days of hell he wished he never had to experience. All he wanted was the ship, the crew, Bones… he wanted Bones more then he could express, and fourteen days in he was starting to seriously worry that he would never see him again.

    With as calming of a breath as he could manage, he wiped the wetness from his eyes and tried to continue, “Bones… I lost them, I lost them all. I failed every single one of these cadets, our family, I failed our family, Bones!” His voice gave way as the sobs began to take over his entire body. “Cadet M’haka, Cadet Nyara Blanir, Cadet Liam Tyler, Cadet Blake Shaw, and Cadet Dierdra Graff… the last of my crew gone. Some perished from their wreck injuries, others from pneumonia, and a few from I don’t even know what, but I know you could have saved them, Bones.”

    He looked out across the endless empty in front of him, the storm still raging on with no end in sight as he spoke again, “It’s been… fourteen days now since the crash, the storm is still going on, I'm cold, wet, hungry, home sick… alone. I have yet to see any sign of life, no species of any kind, and now with all of my fourteen crew members gone… I'm completely alone, Bones.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

    For the next three days Jim slept. There was really nothing more he could do. He had no more cadets relying on him for aid, the rain was still hammering down on the shelter, seeping through the cracks and running like a river underneath him. He was soaked through to his core and if something didn’t give soon, he was going to be this storms next victim. But four days later he woke to warmth on his skin, a small ray of sunshine came sneaking through one of the cracks in the shelter landing on his face.

    He stretched into it, let his cold skin absorb the welcome heat. Slowly he crawled out of the shelter and into the sun that was already high in the sky above him. Once outside he laid on his back, arms out wide and revelled in the humid air breathing it in deep. Finally, finally his shivering would stop, his clothes would be dry for the first time in days, and his skin could return to its normal non-wrinkled texture. The ground beneath him was already dry and back to its desert like state, but he couldn’t be happier to finally see the sand covered ground surrounding him.

    After what felt like hours of just laying in the sun, Jim sat up and faced the shelter. A pang of guilt and sorrow hit his chest hard, hindering his breathing as he thought about the fourteen bodies inside. He had to face it, there was no getting home for them. There would be no bodies to burry if he was ever found, no closure for their families, no peace for his cadets, hell, no one may ever even know what happened to any of them but what was he supposed to do about it? What could he do? With every fibre of his being he wished with everything he had that he could give them the peace and closure that they all deserved and it killed him that now he wouldn’t be able to do that, or at the very least inform their families of their bravery in the face of death.  

    Bones would know what to do, he thought as he sat up wrapping his arms tightly around his knees, Bones always knows what to do. But Bones wasn’t there, and Jim had to do something. Not only did he have his cadets to think about, but he was also now completely out of food and almost out of water. If he didn’t come up with some kind of plan he would be joining the cadets soon enough. All protocol stated to stay where you were, to never leave the original site if you were lost or wrecked, but he was starting to think that he wouldn’t have much choice soon.

    He looked around himself, seeing desert in every direction. Not a single tree or bush anywhere in between, not even a blade of grass, aside from a small mountain to his right. It was a fair distance away, and he could potentially spend a few days crossing the desert to get to it, especially on a wrecked knee. But there was the potential of finding a water source up there as well as hope that there could be something more on the other side. Maybe people, something he could eat, someone who could help. Normally he wouldn’t take the risk, but at this point he didn’t see any other option.

    He reached into his pocket and took out his comm. “Captains… captains log, Stardate 2264.96. Bones, I know it’s against protocol but I’ve decided I have to move on. The storm finally stopped this morning and I can’t stay here and wait to die. I… I'm out of food, I barely have any water tablets left, and that mountain to the right seems to be the best option. I'm hoping that at the very least I can find water and maybe some better shelter, and maybe there’s more to this planet on the other side of the mountain. If I could find some kind of food that would be great, then at least I could survive a bit longer, and if I could find people, hopefully people advanced enough to help, that would be a miracle. So far the only thing that’s on this side of the mountain is desert. But… leaving the cadets here, it feels wrong, Bones, though I can’t exactly take them with me. I’ve already let them down and now I don’t know what to do.”

    Jim moved the comm away from his mouth, staring again into the shelter at his cadets. A soft wind had started to blow through, cooling the already sweltering heat. When the wind hit the shelter his eyes darted to a piece of metal that began bouncing around, causing a loud bang to linger across the desert. The piece of metal was hanging on by a thread, it must have been dislodged some time during the storm and Jim hadn’t noticed until now. He watched it flap back and forth, continuing to crash into the metal pieces underneath it, and finally Jim had an idea.

    He forced himself up on weak legs, already shaking from lack of food, and slowly limped his way over to the broken piece of the shelter.

~~~~~~~~~~~

    Leonard placed the padd on the table beside Jim's bed, more like slammed it down. What little resolve he had left was gone, he couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and let them take over. Eighteen days and Jim was now alone, the Enterprise at this point was no where even close to finding him, and it was starting to sound like Jim was giving up on the ship and even himself.

    Jim had grieved for the cadets he lost, kids, and so did Leonard. Fourteen young and promising lives gone, but Leonard also grieved for Jim. He knew that if anything had happened to any of those kids while they were missing, Jim would blame himself. Even if there was absolutely nothing he or anyone else in his situation could have done, Jim would blame himself entirely, and now he was blaming himself for the deaths of fourteen cadets. He could hear it in his voice, they way he spoke about their loss, about letting them down, failing them. He knew that even though Jim was here, in this room with him, body warm under his touch, that a small part of him died on that planet along with those kids, and now Leonard grieved for it. If Jim woke up this would be a hard bump to get over.

    The door creaked open then, and without looking up he knew who it was. “Spock.”

  “Doctor.” He came inside and closed the door behind him. He could see that Leonard was crying, that he was holding Jim's hand and running his thumb melodically across his fingers, and that he had abandoned the padd behind him on the table. “Have you finished the logs, Doctor?”

    Leonard shook his head, gripping Jim's hand tighter in his, “I can’t Spock,” he whispered, not looking at the Vulcan, “I can’t finish them.”

    “You must,” Spock spoke not with an air of authority, but an almost plea, which Leonard had never heard in the Vulcan's voice before. “I know this is difficult for you, I listened to the Captain’s logs as well. But I assure you, all will come together in the end, Doctor. If anything, you must finish them for Jim.”

    Without so much as another word Spock silently slipped from the room. Leonard heard the soft click of the door and Spock's steady footsteps leaving the sickbay, then reached back to grab the padd. He let it sit in his lap for a while before he tapped the screen and brought up the next log. Turned out, the next ship log that fell in line with Jim's logs, was one of his.

    He looked at the stardate on the log, the same stardate as Jim's last log. Eighteen days of no Jim, of searching the stars and endless planets for him and the cadets, and coming up empty handed every time. Leonard remembered the feeling of hope that would rise in him every time Spock would take a landing party to the surface of a new planet, the anxiety he would feel for the hours or sometimes days they would spend searching the surface, and the gut wrenching heartbreak he would feel when Spock would walk into the sickbay and shake his head. Every time Leonard would find himself in the bathroom, huddled over the toilet and emptying what little was in his stomach. And it only got worse.

    With each passing day, and each Jim-less planet they searched, Leonard worried more and more that Jim was already lost. That they would never find him, or possibly find him dead. He didn’t know which was worse.

    “CMO’s log, Stardate 2264.96. It’s been eighteen days of searching every god forsaken planet we’ve come across and we haven’t found a god damn thing in this black hell hole up here. No sign of Jim or his shuttle, or the god damn idiots who attacked us in the first place. And now Jim's out there, in god knows what state, on some god damn planet, and surrounded by who knows what kind of bacteria and infectious diseases. And the damn med kit on that metal death trap he was in ain’t got nearly enough supplies for fifteen people to survive on for more then two weeks, and it’s been longer then that already! If we don’t find them soon then… damn it! We need to find him! I need the kid back more then I even knew, actually… maybe I did know, I just couldn’t say it. God, I wish I had… to hell with this! I need a drink.”

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A/N: Little more angst, and next is the chapter I’m pretty excited about.... the Bones centered chapter!! XD

But I also thought I’d let you guys know that I had a bit of a revelation this morning lol. While trying to update this fic for y’all I decided that I’m going to slightly alter the original path I had outlined for this. Not so much alter but rather add to. So, this fic is probably going to be a little longer then I originally anticipated, but who doesn’t love a good long Mckirk fic? lol Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this update, hopefully more to come soon!! And as always your wonderful thoughts are always welcomed, and thanks for reading! <3

Tags: @goingknowherewastaken @bi-e-ne @medicatemedrmccoy @weresilver-in-space @resistance-is-futile81 @0dannyphantom0 @jimboy-mccoy @reading-in-moonlight @flaminglupine @haveyouseenmymind

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