#these facts come from feds and settled science

[contentment-of-cats]

Ba'kif: Chronicle of the Ice Bear

For @admiral-arelami by request and with delight. I love me some Ice Bear.

~

When he was Labaki, standing on the cusp of captain and major, he went to Lamiov and had the hardest discussion of his life. He had a new baby daughter, a little blue moonfruit in a fleece cuddler. His wives were many, and his 'Kifies' at oldest were ensigns.

"I do not wish to marry again, or to father children I might have to leave behind." Colonel was next, and unless one fucked up horribly, field rank was after that. "I never want them to see the back of me, and know that I had the choice between family and Ascendancy."

Stybla'ba'kifodo was Blood-Born going nine generations back, honored and honorable, he committed young to the Ascendancy and joined the Marines right out of secondary. Lamiov tried to assure him that whatever happened should he don the white uniform, his wives and babes would be cared for.

Labaki pursed his lips and blinked hard. "But not by me, Patriarch. Not as I promised. If I must break my word to them, let it be with the least pain for them all going forward."

No warm lover next to him in bed, no nest of wives and children sleeping around him safe and warm. No hand on a rounded belly, feeling the life moving within. No sweet-smelling bundle of baby in the crook of his arm, no little one on his knee, no young adult who knew everything rolling eyes at hopelessly old ticsi. No skinned knees, no milestones to celebrate, no star days with cake and delight at toys. Despite his yearning, he would be a piss-poor example of honor and duty if he shirked, but he'd be a father who left if he upheld his duty to the Ascendancy.

Lamiov sighed. "The Universal Analysis Group would take you in a heartbeat. Labaki, it's not all or nothing, nor as binary as you see it."

Lamiov was an optimist, and Labaki loved that about him. However, after rising through the ranks of the army, Labaki had very little optimism left.

"I know my duty, cousin. The Ascendancy needs people in those white uniforms who live their vows, not just give lip service to them."

Lamikav sensed his mood when he came back home, and all his wives gave him a wide berth. He burgled Lataem from her cradle and stole out to the garden with her travel bag. Tae was a 'surprise' baby, the next youngest of his child-herd was starting the sciences junior academy this year, and soon little Tae would be the only one at home. The little moonfruit was fat and round as a baby should be, her deep blue flecked with pink and purple across her cheeks. Her mother, Mir, was a former sky-walker and merit adoptive, and some of her mother's serene demeanor was present in Tae.

Tae made a soft grunting noise and pushed at his chest with an impatient fist once freed from her swaddle.

"I know for a fact you have been fed. You are playing me for a sucker." Unimpressed, his child gave him a look that conveyed an insubordinate 'so what?' and pushed on his chest again. "Fine, fine. You'll make me get up in the middle of the night to burp you when you're so gorged you can't move, then you'll puke all over your Tati."

Labaki took out a nursing pack, broke open the heating element and allowed it to come to the proper temperature.

"I spoke to Cousin Mio. He's trying to convince me to go to the UAG. Part of me wants to, since it means I could stay and watch you grow up." Offering the nursing pack to his daughter, he settled in with her in the crook of his arm. "But that means not standing against things that ought to perish. Patronage, self-dealing, corruption, duplicity. But that doesn't mean anything to you right now. All you want is to be warm, drink milk, and be told you are the most beautiful baby to ever exist."

Her Majesty ignored the flattery and he had to break the latch to slow her down.

"I do not want to leave, but my promotion makes it likely that I will see that white uniform in the next ten to twelve years. You won't be grown by then."

-

Five years later, after the Siege of Bogo Rai, Major Labaki became Colonel Labaki. His family welcomed him home, new honor chains bright on his chest, and a long medical leave to let him heal the rest of the way. His first grandchild, Kiwu'lai'torus, was a fat little moonfruit in a cuddler and Tae was a curly-haired cyclone in the garden, always ready to claim his knee and the only one still of age to do so.

"Baba!"

He could still toss her in the air, only a little unsteady as he caught her on the way down. They could talk over the secure comms, but not see each other. The Chaos disrupted comms signals unexpectedly, and the only true secure method was by using courier ships.

"Some men came to see me after I took some tests at school and a nice lady."

It was unworthy of him not to want his own children to become sky-walkers. He knew that. "What did they want to see you about?"

"I don't know, but I didn't like them. They were all slippery and slimy when they talked. They went away."

Labaki looked at Mir, her lips thin and fists clenched in her robe. "They-?"

Mir shook her head, lashes wet. "They test all children starting at age five up to age seven on entry to primary. It was a decision of the Syndicure and the Admiralty. No exemptions for anyone."

Labaki held Tae close, his heart hammering in his chest. Only command bridge officers and flag rank were supposed to know about sky-walkers, but he had married one. He saw the bodies of two of them carried off the Saber after Bogo Rai.

"But I'm not going." Tae stomped a foot that didn't touch the ground. "The lady said I was too stubborn for induction."

Mir smiled, but it was strained, and Labaki knew the signs of a dazzle headache. He picked up Tae and slung her over one hip, then slid an arm around Mir. "Tae, Mir, come and have a lie-down with me. I'm tired from my trip."

"Will you read to us, Tati?"

"Of course."

It was not until many years later that he understood what 'induction' really meant.

~

The day came.

Ba'kif sent a prayer of thanks to his ancestors that Tae had been accepted to the Academy of Sciences on Sposia and would leave before his ceremony. By now she knew what the white uniform meant. Once he left, his family would mourn as if for his death. Even if he should die in the line of duty, he would have a memorial on Naproar.

"I don't want to go." Tae's arms held to his middle and her tears soaked his shirt. "Can't I stay until it's time for you to go?"

Ba'kif's tears fell on her head. "No, love. I'm sorry. You need to start your life, not cry over mine. When it's time for me to retire, you'll be a grown woman. I hope you'll remember me."

He'd likely end up on Sposia, but not anywhere near the academy. The UAG facilities were the most highly secured in the Ascendancy, much to the irritation of the Syndicure, the Nine, the Forty, and the CEDF.

"I will always remember you. Why do you have to go?"

His heart broke inside his chest. Yai, his oldest, was weeks away from having her first child. His wives would be treated as widows, his children as orphans.

"Because before you or any of your brothers and sisters were born, I made a promise to protect the people of the Ascendancy. When I become a general, after my ceremony, I must protect them all as I would protect you." His voice didn't break, and he could be proud of that. "I hoped that this wouldn't come until you were ready to fly on your own. Please, just remember that I am so proud of you, and love you still so much."

Mir pilots the shuttle that will take Tae and Lamiov to Sposia. When the ramp went down, he bid them farewell, and watched as the ramp went up again, and the shuttle lifted into atmosphere. He said his farewells at the homestead, where the mourning lamps were lit once he left the boundary stones. The Admiralty shuttle waited for him at the CEDF post in the secure section of the spaceport.

~

When he was Supreme General, he got a taste of what it was like to raise young ones again. Only this time the young ones had a Taharim education and were additionally too smart for their own good. He took them aboard his vessel and managed to persuade Ja'fosk to give him a free hand with both Ensign Ziara and Ensign Thrawn. Ziara stuffed Thrawn through a four-year education in three years, and essentially took him everywhere she went like a child with a favored plushie. Wags joked that the boy was the Irizi Blood-Daughter's first command, and that he had a fine future ahead of him as a trophy husband once the Mitth let him go.

After dealing with both of them at the academy, Ba'kif knew that Ziara didn't dare to let Thrawn out of eyeshot. He and Ja'fosk were quick to learn that lesson, and set to making sure that both young officers were crosstrained on every station aboard the Ferocious.

In time both moved on to their own commands, but where Ziara rose high Thrawn stuck at senior captain. Dy'lothe, also known as the Late Admiral Dy'lothe for his habit of getting there when the battle was over, stopped Thrawn's promotion to commodore with Ers'ikaro. Both men openly flaunted their connections with the Syndicure and their allegedly former families - the Clarr and the Dasklo. Both men voted to exile Thrawn, along with Af'arilk, agaainst Ar'alani and Ja'fosk.

Thrawn agreed to the intel insertion from his world of exile, and he'd be picked up in three years. But no humans came to that world for five. Thrawn could rightly believe that he's been abandoned and Ba'kif had broken his word. Indeed, Ar'alani confirmed that for him in a visit to Sposia after his return to being Labaki and elevation to Patriarch.

~

The Syndicure passed down the sentence.

Ar'alani, Ba'kif, and Thrawn would be executed at dawn. Their heads would fall under the sword. The Syndicure under Thurfian and the Admiralty under Dy'lothe had been unanimous. Now they could only wait in their cells as the hours ticked toward dawn. Ba'kif sent farewells to his family that he hoped they'd received. It was unheard of to depose a sitting Patriarch, Indeed, it was tantamount to a declaration of war, but he'd named Tae as his successor and Thurfian would kiss Dhav'uul dealing with her.

The ground shook hard and Ba'kif frowned.

That was not an icequake.

He could hear nothing from his cell, but some hours later the ground shook twice more in quick succession and the lights went out. The north glacier reservoir had been shored up ten years ago to handle excess melt. If it had breached, he wouldn't have to worry about losing his head or even drowning - the water was so cold he'd die of shock.

The door to his cell handcranked open, and a squad of guards gestured him out. One moved to put shackles on him only to be shoved back by the sergeant. He moved slowly - the questioning had been hard on him at the age he was now. He could see two more squads ahead of them, Thrawn on a stretcher and Ar'alani in a four-hand carry. Thrawn opened his eyes, smiled, and closed them again.Ba'kif vowed to peel the skin from Thurfian, Dy'lothe, and all their little brown-nosers, then roll them in salt and stake them alive over ice-roach nests.

They exited the Mitth compound into a dark so thick that Ba'kif could have spread it on toast. If memory served, they were heading toward the commercial spaceport and customs instead of the Admiralty or government center port. He was with Ar'alani and Thrawn in one transport. The guards answered no questions, only drove, through they passed over a medikit when Ba'kif asked for one. Ar'alani and Thrawn were in rough shape.

The headlights of the vehicle picked out something that made him blink.

"That's a Gozanti."

"It's one of theirs," the driver spat. "They interdicted the whole system along with the Stybla fleet. She didn't bother to open communications, but cratered the Syndicure as soon as she was in orbit. Then she did the same to the Admiralty and the Mitth reservoir - drained the whole thing into the agriculture caverns."

Thrawn was smiling and Ar'alani rolling her eyes. "Thrawn. She didn't even open negotiations first."

"You don't even know it was her, Ara."

"Shoot first and ask later. I know who it is."

"Captain Little Dragon of the Chimaera." Pyron'di. "And Commodore Old Lion." Pel'laeon.

Ba'kif shut his eyes and breathed out a long sigh of relief. "I shouldn't have worried, Thrawn. I knew they'd come boiling out after you like a nest of firewasps."

They stopped near the boarding ramp, but Ba'kif was almost bowled off his feet by Tae.

Who yelled at him. Shook him. Cried and hugged him. Yelled at him again. "Sesi's so mad at you!"

Medical crews surrounded each of them as the Gozanti lifted off, escorted by a dozen TIE-D fighters for the quick flight to the Chimaera. Ba'kif didn't fight being laid down in the medsled. He was old, tired, and hoped meanly that the Syndicure had been in session when Pyrondi cratered it.

Once they locked onto the Chimaera's docking ring, the captain came to see them. "We'll be taking the prisoners off first."

"Prisoners?" Thrawn lifted his head and Ar'alani pushed it back down to the pillow.

"Mm. The Nine have been deposed. Thurfian, Zistalmu, the Clarr, Dasklo, and Obbic patriarchs, speakers, and syndics prime have been turned over to-" Tae coughed and looked amused. "Old Lion and Little Dragon." He might have some explaining to do concerning Il'yana, but Ba'kif wasn't too worried. "Tati, the UAG is foaming at the mouth to get hands on those ships not to mention that bac'tah..."

Ba'kif closed his eyes, pain medications easing his injuries, the medics already starting work.

#5 for 5000 #admiral-arelami #ba'kif #thrawn #ar'alani

[angelofrainfrogs]

Going Back: Ch. 10

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: Things are looking up for Gregory. After putting the soul of a formerly-immortal killer to rest, he and his new family can finally begin their lives anew. Sure, Gregory might have been cursed with mysterious Remnant in exchange for being involved in this mess—not to mention his caretakers consist of sentient robots and ghosts… But there’s no doubt that the bond they share is unbreakable. They love him, and he in turn. 

All in all, life is finally starting to go right for once. 

…Unfortunately, true peace is a hard-won battle. There are other things to contend with besides William’s decrepit soul, and Gregory will learn that his role in the lives of the Aftons and Emilys is far greater than anyone could’ve imagined. 

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

The group parted ways as soon as they entered the Pizzaplex the next evening. Finding Michael waiting by the front door, as he'd slipped out early to do some mechanical work, Charlie hooked their arms together to track down Sam.

Meanwhile, Freddy took Gregory to the basement so he could play with the other kids—the tour of the Pizzaplex would be continued later with Hannah in tow. After parting ways with his son, Freddy made a beeline for Bonnie Bowl. To his pleasant surprise he found the bunny already wandering the central atrium, so it was a short walk to Rockstar Row where the old friends would settle on the couch in Freddy’s room to discuss everything Bonnie missed… This time focused on the bad things.

Freddy told the rabbit everything he knew, the information coming out in a steady stream like water from a fountain. He revealed events in chronological order when he could, starting with Evan’s birthday in ‘83 that triggered it all. There were certainly areas he was lacking information for, but Freddy did his best to tell Bonnie all the details. The rabbit needed to have as much context as possible before the big reveal of why he’d been feeling these human emotions since being powered back on. 

“…And therefore Henry burned the diner to the ground, trapping William and taking the Aftons, Cassidy, and Charlie along with them,” Freddy said, bringing the penultimate chapter of the child murderer to a close. He watched Bonnie carefully, trying to gauge his stress level before he revealed the most harrowing part of the saga—at least with regards to the rabbit himself.

Patting his old friend’s shoulder, Freddy asked: “How are you feeling, Bon? There is one more part to this whole debacle, but I must warn you that it will be far less pleasant for you to hear than everything else, if you can believe it.”

Turns out you should never meet your heroes—or in Bonnie's case, even hear about your heroes. The man who made him murdered children. The most disgusting part was the feeling it gave Bonnie in retrospect, how that blind worship of a man he'd never met before made his mechanical chest ache like there was a ton of bricks bearing down upon it. After the long explanation, Bonnie looked as if he was still gathering his thoughts before he could even register that Freddy had yet one more thing to tell him—and that it was going to be the worst bit of information he'd hear. Bonnie twiddled his thumbs in his lap, careful and collected as he thought of the poor kids and dwelling on the fact that Gregory was nearly an equation inside a messed up science experiment.

“S'pose so, Fred. I doubt it's worse than any of that mess...,” Bonnie said with a raised eyebrow. Surely it couldn't be worse than any of that. It took everything in him not to sound shaken up and scared from the mere thought of more kids going missing.

Freddy's heart ached watching his best friend struggle with so much horrible information. Whereas the bear had a few days to learn things in piecemeal, Bonnie was essentially being force-fed the information in one go. Perhaps there was a better way to approach this, but at the same time Freddy knew the rabbit wouldn't leave him alone until he knew everything. Taking a deep breath, Freddy clenched his fists atop his knees, steeling himself for delivering the final blow.

This was going to hurt.

“Obviously I am telling you this for a reason, and that reason is to explain how we got mixed up in everything,” Freddy continued somberly. “Unfortunately, Henry's plan failed. William escaped and was somehow able to digitize himself, essentially becoming a virus that could infect computers and humans alike. He gained influence over a staff member employed in the Pizzaplex and forced her to do horrible things...”

Here the ursine man paused again, looking into Bonnie’s eyes. He didn’t want to reveal Vanessa’s name just yet, though he was sure Bonnie could figure it out eventually. 

“She sent out malware that infected all the animatronics, causing them to become... to become bloodthirsty, willing to attack anyone who opposed them—even children—as soon as night shift began.” Freddy winced, thinking of Gregory's close encounters at the hands of his former bandmates. “Though William had another goal in mind first: he wanted a new body, and a very specific one at that. He was the reason for you being decommissioned. William’s virus worked its way into Monty’s systems, causing him to summon you to the golf course under false pretenses and attack so he could—”

Freddy’s voice broke off, the fact of what William had done still so terrible after all this time. However, it was clear by Bonnie’s expression that the swift rabbit was putting the pieces together.

Bonnie’s hands lifted to his mouth, unable to explain why he felt nauseous when he didn’t even have a stomach to throw up from. But he didn’t need to justify it; Freddy had already done that for him.

He is—no… was William Afton, if only for a few nights. It explained far too much, and Bonnie took to pulling on his ears to relieve the stress. He tugged on them harshly, looking back to Freddy. It was clear whatever evil he was capable of when he was in a coma-like state hadn’t been too bad, though. Surely, Freddy would tell him if it was…

“N… No more. I-I get it, old hat…,” Bonnie replied, shuddering out the unshakable notion he still had that evil lurking inside him somewhere.

Just out of view of his friends, and undetectable by his virus scan, Bonnie feared William Afton’s return to take his body and use it for his nefarious deeds. Worst of all, that man who was supposed to be their loving creator had turned and hurt Freddy, Gregory, and all the others in ways that could never fully be repaired.

“I surely can’t believe it… You all went through too much,” Bonnie said, fighting the self-doubt in his head. Had he put up a fight up until the end, or had Bonnie's mind been torn from his body kicking and screaming? Either way, he failed to protect any of the children.

“Did... Did I hurt any of y'all…?” Bonnie meekly asked. 

Freddy opened his mouth to answer, then let it slowly shut. Bonnie hadn’t laid a finger on them, but William hurt Michael and Charlie on multiple occasions, and nearly jabbed a Remnant-infused needle into Gregory’s neck—which he’d indirectly succeeded in doing in the end.

“…It was not your fault,” was all Freddy could say, voice slow and measured as he got to his feet. He couldn’t lie to Bonnie and say everything was fine, but he could at least reassure that his friend’s consciousness was innocent.

Moving to Bonnie’s front, Freddy wrapped him in a hug. Their heights were more equivalent now with the rabbit still seated, so Freddy easily slipped his arms around the lagomorph’s neck and held on tight.

“You did absolutely nothing wrong, Bonnie,” he went on. “No animatronic was safe from William’s influence—the only reason I was spared is because Michael latched onto me. If he had picked someone else, it likely would not be me sitting here telling you this. But I can assure you that William is gone—we made sure of it.”

Now Freddy pulled back, offering the tiniest smile. “The fact that you are powered on and back to your old self is proof we trust that horrible man was rid from the world and my dear friend is back. Please do not doubt yourself, as hard as it may be. No one blames you for anything.” 

“But why ME?” Bonnie asked, raising his voice just slightly. He covered his mouth, smacking his paws over his snout as he forced his voice box to manually reset, the outburst only serving to feed his paranoia that there was something wrong with him.

Bonnie forced himself to sit still, but only for a few seconds. He crossed his legs and anxiously bounced his foot over the edge of his knee, a habit now birthed from his new nervous disposition. Is that where those awful emotions were coming from? The man who previously possessed his body and computer system had given him complexes, and all Bonnie wanted to do was give himself a hard reset when they made themselves known. Bonnie ran his hands up his face, massaging it as if stressed skin and muscle were there instead of wires and fur.

“I'm not a bad bunny...,” Bonnie reinforced like a mantra, shutting his eyes. “I'm not a bad bunny...”

Freddy would never lie to him just to spare his feelings, he reminded himself. Most of all, Bonnie just felt violated; being burdened with consciousness only amplified these feelings.

“Bonnie, relax,” Freddy soothed, gripping the rabbit’s paws and stilling them before they did actual damage to his newly-refurbished face. Freddy was thankful yet again for his robotic strength, as he could feel Bonnie’s wires pulled taught as he strained to relieve the internal stress.

“You are not a bad bunny,” Freddy repeated, meeting Bonnie’s flighty gaze when he could, holding his hands in an iron grip between them. “You are a wonderful rabbit, and everyone knows that. I know that, and I trust you implicitly. You are not a danger to anyone.

“As for why it was you, I am afraid I do not have an answer for that. We were all simply caught up in one man’s delusions. I am sorry you bore so much of the burden, but… all we can do is move past this and look to the future.” Releasing one of Bonnie’s paws, Freddy gently patted the top of his head. “We had a discussion yesterday about what it was like to have human emotions—now you know why you have been feeling so strange. Yes, not all of them are pleasant, but so many of them are—and we will be here to help you through them. Alright, old friend?” 

Bonnie couldn't find it in him to answer Freddy. While it felt like the end of his whole world not a few seconds ago, Bonnie was reeled back to reality by his pragmatic friend. He’d always been a little melodramatic—though his current outburst was justified. He may dwell of this for a long time, but at least Freddy and the others were here to help him navigate this sea of emotions and lead him back to the shores of sanity.

Bonnie too was happy for Freddy's android strength. It made it less awkward when he leaned into his friend in the world’s laziest hug.

“My chest feels heavy,” he admitted, still holding onto the burden, though less loud about it now. “But... thanks for bein’ here, Fred.”

Everything would be alright eventually. And when it wasn't alright? Bonnie could call Freddy, or Monty, or anyone that would listen—anyone who’d remind him he wasn't insane and that he wasn't going to hurt anyone again.

Freddy kept the embrace as long as he could, though eventually he pulled back. The action was slow, trying to assure Bonnie that his new feelings were all understood and valid. Only when they were fully disconnected did Freddy realize there was one more thing he wanted Bonnie to know before the night was out.

“Bonnie, I have one final thing to tell you, and then I promise I will drop the topic until you wish to talk about it again,” Freddy said. “It is about Monty—I know you could tell he was acting off yesterday, so I wanted to reassure you that it is not because he is afraid of you. He… he does not truly know what happened, save for the fact there was a malware attack that caused everyone to act out.”

The ursine man’s smile slipped the tiniest bit. “I will leave it up to the two of you to have a conversation, but I can at least say that Monty seems strange because he knows he was the one who decommissioned you. He does not remember anything—none of the animatronics will. But there were rumors from the beginning that he was the cause of you going missing, and when he found out the truth he was beside himself. He is simply afraid of hurting you again.”

When it came down to it, Monty and Bonnie shared at least that much in common—the fear of slipping back into an uncontrolled state and lashing out at those they care for. 

Bonnie, strangely enough, didn’t seem so upset about it. Like Fred mentioned, it wasn’t as if anyone was in control of their full mental faculties these past few months. Honestly, Bonnie was more upset that Monty was able to beat him at their game of wrestling…

Still, at some point, it became less of a game and more of Bonnie fighting just so his face wasn’t ripped from his body, or his limbs torn off one by one until he was an incoherent mess of wires, parts, and broken casing.

“Aw, shucks, that’s Monty for ya, huh? He makes one mistake and now he’s gonna hold it against himself forever…” Bonnie sighed with a shake of his head. It was something he was gonna have to talk to the old gator about. Hopefully they could sweep all this unpleasantness under the lily pad with a few rounds of golf or bowling. “He’s such a sensitive lug… I’m fine now.”

“Monty will be pleased to hear that, I am sure,” Freddy said, the usual brightness returning to his demeanor now that the initial unpleasantness of things was past. With a grin, Freddy tugged the rabbit forward, urging him to his feet.

“Now, as I said I will move past this topic until you are ready to speak about it again,” the redhead reassured. Once Bonnie was upright, Freddy released him and checked his phone, noting the time. “I promised Gregory that I would take him and a few of his friends on a little tour of the Pizzaplex tonight. I am sure they would be ecstatic if you joined us.”

He glanced up at the comparatively tall rabbit questioningly. “There is a good chance we will run into Henry Emily when I pick them up—but I guarantee he will be kind to you, as that is his nature. Would you like to come along?”

Bonnie couldn't look happier. He’d take anything fun to distract him from the horrible truth he just learned. He just knew the moment he saw Gregory and those poor kids, he'd give all of them a great big hug! He couldn't mention knowing the truth about their shared demises and various tortures, but he'd try to help ease the pain with one of his famous hugs.

“I sure would, Fred! I think that's a swell idea.” He beamed, slipping his arm around Freddy's shoulders to get their journey going. His jolty movements made it clear he was a little shaken and quick to push everything back into the closet of his mind again. The next time he'd speak of this dreadful incident would be when he talked it all out with Monty, then no more for a long time.

“Besides, I couldn't possibly pass up the chance to meet THE He—nry Em-Em-ily...” Bonnie found his voice box needing another manual reset. There goes that weird tick again...

Freddy spared a raised-eyebrow at the glitch but said nothing, simply slipping his arm through Bonnie’s as an anchor. He had to admit, he was just as relieved that their conversation was over for now; he hated dwelling on such topics, too.

It was a slower trip down to the basement than usual due to Bonnie's inclination to pause every once in a while and look around or comment about how he never knew such things like the old, burned down diner even existed in the Pizzaplex. When they finally made it to the workshop door Freddy dislodged himself, flashing Bonnie a smile. “Henry is just inside this room. Let me get him.”

“One sec!” the jovial voice called after Freddy's knock. After some shuffling and heaving, Henry managed to push the android he was working on refurbishing into a corner of the room, away from potentially sensitive eyes. He soon threw the door open, grinning up at the kind-faced creation he'd put so much heart and soul into. “Hey, Fred—oh.”

There was a pause, in which Henry stared up at Bonnie with a slightly lax jaw. However, he was quick to slap himself with a gentle swat of his cheek, mouth flipping back into a smile before the robots could even register his minor internal crisis. “Well, well! If it isn't Bonnie the Bunny!” 

That was him. It was really him. Wow...

Bonnie himself was in quite the tizzy. Grasping his head and making his ears flop to the side, he let out a short, albeit star-struck laugh, the expression on his face matching Henry's own micro-crisis.

“Mr. Emily, I presume?” Bonnie asked, feeling his voice box cut in a strange way again. His thick country accent sounded clear, though a tad forced. “I really don't believe my scanners, but it's you! Wowee—it's an honor!”

The normally charismatic bunny was abnormally shy, trying to make himself a little smaller as he talked. Henry knew the man that possessed him; knew what he did. Hopefully he could look past that and accept the paw Bonnie jutted out for a somewhat awkward handshake.

Henry let out a jovial laugh, shaking Bonnie's hand thoroughly. Honestly, he praised Sam for making this version so far removed from the golden springlock suit Henry had come to associate with his former business partner. It was easy for him to see Glamrock Bonnie as just another animatronic; despite William's possession earlier that week, Henry had been assured by multiple sources that his “old friend” was gone for good.

“You can just call me Henry; everyone does. I even got Fredbear to, after a bit of needling,” the ghost said, releasing Bonnie's hand only to playfully jab Freddy in the side. He ushered the pair into the workshop proper, closing the door behind them. “The kids are playing in the diner with Puppet, so we have the place to ourselves for abouuuut—” Henry mimed looking at his nonexistent watch. “—five minutes before they bother me again.”

“We will take some of them out of your hair in a moment,” Freddy assured, settling near the workbench.

“Oh, I'm only joking; I love those little terrors,” Henry chuckled, then glanced up at Bonnie. “It's good to meet you, Bon! How are you feeling? Er, is 'Bon' okay? I guess I should be asking you all these things...”

He scratched the back of his head, mumbling this last part to himself. He'd gotten so used to Freddy looking human that it was easy to forget the Glamrock line was known for its sentience—and Bonnie in particular had much more human qualities than most due to extenuating circumstances.

“Oh, Bon is just great! Bon, Bonnie, that big ol' purple Bunny—” The rabbit laughed, warming up well to their original creator. “—you can call me anything ya like!”

The amiable rabbit offered a smile and a wink. He hoped that it didn't come off in the way he spoke to Henry, but there was an odd need for Henry to like him. Though it didn't seem to be something he'd have to vie for so desperately; Henry was a nice guy, and Bonnie could tell already that they'd make great friends.

The way he spoke about the kids reminded him of the way Freddy talked about them. It was the warmth in his voice, he reckoned. He and Fredbear seemed to share that affinity.

“I'm feeling ter—iffic!” His voice box glitched out, trying to change its pitch all on his own. Bonnie laughed again, scratching lightly behind an ear. “Well! That keeps happening, but besides that I’m all better now!”

“I can take a look at that, if you want,” Henry offered with a questioning tilt of the head. “Sounds like something might've slipped out of place; shouldn't be a hard fix. I'm quite the mechanic, if I do say so myself.” His faux-haughty demeanor softened as he looked at the rabbit's confused mix of facial expressions. “Only if you want—no pressure.”

Bonnie didn't feel afraid; who else would be a more perfect candidate to look over his functions besides from Sam himself?

“Well if you'd kindly, I'd appreciate it.” Bonnie hopped onto the workbench faster than two shakes of a lamb's tail, then laid down to relax his neck joints and his disconnecting jaw. He laid still, disabling his mechanical features to allow Henry easier access to his voice box. After a series of humming and what appeared to be squinting in measured frustration aimed at his odd wiring, Bonnie was then given free range to sit up and click his face plating back into position.

“So what's the prognosis, Doc? My head screwed on wrong?” he teased, batting his eyes playfully to let Henry know he was just joking.

“Only a bit,” Henry joked right back, gently knocking a fist against the top of Bonnie's noggin right between the ears. “Really, though, I do think it's just a few wires that slipped out of place—not a major repair, but it might take a few minutes to fix up. Honestly, Mike or Sam could probably get it done faster than me; hate to say it, but I'm not as familiar with the Glamrock line!”

“We can ask for their assistance later tonight,” Freddy suggested, although before Bonnie had a chance to respond a tiny voice sounded from the recesses of the basement.

“Uncle Henry!” Evan called, floating into the room and making a beeline for the elder ghost's side. “Uncle Henry! Can we bring Puppet up with us tonight?!”

“I don't see why not,” Henry responded, his eyes softening as they always did when talking to the (usually) sweet-tempered Evan. Besides, he had no doubt Puppet would go anywhere she could if the kids asked her to. He gestured to Freddy, who the boy had completely skipped over in his focused mission. “Good timing, too—you're chaperone's here.”

“Oh! Hey, Freddy!” Evan gave the ursine man a bright wave, then did the same to Bonnie when he realized the rabbit was staring down at him from the workbench. Since their time at the bowling alley last night, Evan had no more fear of the purple bunny. “Lemme go get the others. Gregory! Your dad's here!”

With that the boy took off like a rocket, phasing through numerous walls as he headed back to the old diner to gather the crew for tonight's tour, now including Hannah and the Marionette. Henry shook his head with a chuckle, arms crossed in front of his chest. It was good to see the kid in high spirits after so long. 

Gregory was walking with the lanky Puppet draped across his shoulders, her wrist limp in his as he gestured her hand wildly at Hannah. As they laughed together, walking through the door at Evan’s call, he waved Marionette’s arm at the group.

“Hey, Dad! Puppet wanted to come and look at Henry’s blueprints!” he shouted, prompting the Puppet to slip off his frame and slink towards the work table.

Bonnie marveled at the silent animatronic. Her movements seemed advanced for her apparent age as she made her way over, unabashedly using Bonnie to climb up onto the workbench besides him with an aura of excitement.

Gregory, now that his hand was freed up, decided to take Hannah’s instead. Not for his own gain—though holding her hand like this was certainly a special occasion in itself for him. Gregory just gleaned that Hannah wasn’t the most comfortable around new people—whether that involved new animatronics she hadn’t met before was unclear, but judging by the way she clutched his palm back, Gregory knew she didn’t mind.

“Bonnie! This is my friend Hannah; come say ‘hi!’” he beckoned, leading her further into the workshop. Bonnie hopped away from the table, fixing the collar of his shirt and pretending to check the smell of his breath as he walked up to greet the kids. The silly rabbit knelt to one knee to meet the children on their level and said

“Howdy, guys! It’s sure swell to meet you, Hannah. Aren’t you two just little peas in a pod?” Bonnie remarked at the close knit friend group he found oh so adorable. In the peripheral of his vision, the strawberry-blonde girl he’d met yesterday with a huge red ribbon in her hair peaked from behind the door, currently glaring holes into Bonnie’s head.

Lizzie was hiding her scowl around the corner, wishing she could simply explode the rabbit with her mind. She hadn’t given Bonnie much thought last night, too wrapped up in the magic of the Pizzaplex itself and their rousing game of Gator Golf. However, now Lizzie had time to think on things—and as usual, when her thoughts were left to wander they also tended to fester.

Looking upon Bonnie now, she came to the conclusion that everything about him irked her, from the heavy accent to his quirky mannerisms. It all reminded her too much of him, and immediately soured her good mood. The dumb bunny must have felt her weak attempt at a psychic onslaught, because he glanced up to look at Liz with a bewildered expression.

“Uh—howdy, little lady!” Bonnie greeted with a wave. “Lizzie, right? You were smokin’ Monty at golf yesterday!”

“Lizzie…” Attuned to his sister’s distress, Evan clung to her shoulders like Puppet had done to Gregory moments before, pressing his cheek against hers as he eyed the rabbit and murmured in her ear. “I don’t sense anything weird, Liz; I think he’s okay… He was nice last night, remember?”

Hannah, on the other hand, seemed a bit star-struck. Bonnie had always been her favorite, starting from his part in the old cartoons she’d watched as a little kid, but by the time her parents actually took her to the Pizzaplex, Bonnie was decommissioned shortly after. She’d only gotten to see him live once, performing on stage with the rest of the band. Never did she think she’d get to have a personal conversation with him—her parents could never afford such a luxury package. 

In retrospect, it’d been far too easy for Vanny to lead Hannah away with the promise of an encounter with the rabbit. Her fingers clenched tight around Gregory’s, pushing down the memories under a little smile as she directed the animatronic’s attention back to her. “Hi, Bonnie! It’s super awesome to meet you! I’m like… your biggest fan!”

Something so simple shouldn't have made Bonnie's heartstrings pull like that. It was a sentiment he heard a hundred times by other fans, and normally he'd give them one of the usual responses without deeper thought. Coming from this girl—a ghost if he wasn't mistaken—it felt more real than before he’d gained consciousness. He was someone's favorite member of the band, their first choice and a star in her eyes.

“That's a good thing I get to come hang out with y'all today! I can get to know my new friend better,” Bonnie said to specifically hype Hannah up, trying his best to ignore Elizabeth's more abrasive response.

She screwed up her nose and muttered under her breath. Gregory at least looked happy at his offer to come play with them. While he was sure it was due to their previous day's bonding, Bonnie might not’ve caught on that his huge grin was because of how tight Hannah was gripping his palm still. Bonnie leaned into the mixed group slightly, pointing to the youngest ghost.

“And you’re Evan! I remember—you look just like your lil’ twin over here! And my biggest fan is Hannah,” he reiterated, making sure he knew their names by memory. Then, his index finger pointed to Liz, who still glared at him in hopes he would soon burst into flames. “And miss sour-patch is Lizzie.”

“Yup!” Evan confirmed, absolutely no fear or hesitation in his demeanor. He moved from Lizzie’s shoulders to her side, grabbing one arm with both hands and trying to tug her forward. “Come on, Liz! Stop being a grouch!”

“Evan, do not push her,” Freddy gently warned. When Evan opened his mouth to protest, Freddy continued with an understanding smile. “Everyone processes things differently—you know that. I am sure she will warm up in time.”

This last sentence was partially directed to the girl herself, who turned her narrowed eyes on Freddy. However, the ursine man was completely unfazed by her fierce attitude. After a few seconds Evan released Lizzie’s arm, though he stayed attentively by her side. Freddy had a point—though they both knew their father‘s rabbit obsession forever tainted Bonnie the Bunny, it was easier for Evan to separate his grudge against William from the animatronic in front of them… Much more so than Lizzie, it seemed.

Despite the tense reaction from Liz, Hannah was still entranced by the rabbit. He was even friendlier than she’d imagined! Lightly swinging Gregory’s arm, she asked Bonnie:

“So you’re gonna hang out with us in the Pizzaplex?!” At his conforming nod, she clenched her fists excitedly, squeezing Gregory’s hand in the process as the smile on her face grew impossibly wider. “Yessss!”

She was coming to realize that being dead and stuck in the Pizzaplex wasn’t all bad… Getting exclusive time with the animatronics was certainly one of the best perks.

Henry had been listening in on all of this of course, though only with one ear as the rest of his attention was directed to Puppet who meticulously scanned the blueprints.

“So, what’s the verdict?” the old ghost intoned, giving her a gentle pat on the back as her slim frame crouched over the workbench. “Think you can deal with this body, or does it need any tweaks?” 

Puppet gently picked up the blueprints and held their intricate designs to her chest, swaying excitedly. To be able to express these new feelings and thoughts she had would be amazing, if just for a little while. Mari was careful not to crumple the papers before placing them down and showing her gratitude through a gentle hug squeezed around Henry's shoulders. Right now, she appreciated him more than he could know. The design was perfect, and soon she’d understand completely how Charlie and Michael felt in their androids.

Despite Liz's unwillingness to cooperate, she tried to wipe the frown off of her face. She’d simply have to avert her gaze from the rabbit to avoid feeling so blue. Bonnie's image made her heart hurt, and she couldn't help but lash out in a silent anger—anger that indented her nails into her synthetic skin as she clenched her hands.

“So what's our first destination, pals?” Bonnie asked, hands placed confidently on his hips as he stood.

The kids looked at each other expectantly, waiting for one of them to speak up. It was Hannah who talked first, finally releasing Gregory’s hand with the tiniest blush to clasp her palms together behind her back. 

“Evan and Liz, where do you guys wanna go?” she asked, tilting her head questioningly at the Aftons. The siblings shared a look, before Evan shrugged.

“I dunno… What else is there to do around here?” He posed the query to the room, knowing someone would be able to provide an answer. “We already checked out mini-golf and the bowling alley… Oh, and the Daycare!”

“I believe you would be most interested in Roxy Raceway or Fazerblast,” Freddy suggested, though his gaze was fixed on Gregory. The boy had traumatic experiences in both attractions, so it was up to him whether he was ready to tackle them. A slight frown creased the redhead’s face. “Although I do not know if the raceway is functional yet… So perhaps Fazerblast? Or an arcade… We could also simply wander and stop by whatever area catches our fancy.”

“What do you think, Gregory?” Hannah inquired, also wanting his opinion. The two of them had the most experience at the Pizzaplex out of all the kids, so she was curious as to what he thought would be a good place to check out first. 

Oh, the Raceway. Gregory seemed to have a particularly nonplused stare as he remembered their close call, Michael bleeding all over him and using himself as a fleshy shield... If it weren't for Ennard, they wouldn't be here to make the choice of where to hang out today. In a way, it would be a triumphant return to the very place they had conquered. And while he heard Hannah, it took him a second of thinking to decide.

“Maybe we'll check out the arcades?” Gregory suggested. “Then we can swing around the Raceway and see what's going on with it.”

Bonnie rubbed the side of his head with a broad paw, smiling at the thought of racing their little karts around the track. “Ah, Roxy Raceway—brings back such good memories. Right, Fredbear?”

How Monty and Fred laughed when Roxy's naturally competitive nature made her cross with Bonnie, who only wanted to take a leisurely drive around the track.

“It's a Raceway,” Roxy had argued to the brick wall of a bunny. “We're not taking your grandma shopping. Put the pedal to the metal, rabbit!”

Bonnie couldn't wait to see them all again. Thankfully Michael, Sam, and Henry were hard at work as they spoke tuning up their friends—and currently restoring old ones.

“It does indeed,” Freddy agreed with a soft smile, then gestured for the little band of ghosts and animatronics to follow him. They’d wasted too much time thinking over the past when they could be having fun already. “To the arcades it is; we will see you later, Henry!”

“Have fun!” Henry replied, feeling Puppet dislodge herself so she could slink over and latch onto another friend who’d be making their way upstairs. Clapping Bonnie amiably on the back, he grinned up at the rabbit. “It’s good to meet you, Bon; we’ll definitely catch up more another time. Oh, and don’t forget to ask Mike and Sam about that voice box of yours!”

“Oh you know it, Henry!” Bonnie told him, now brave enough in front of his hero—his good creator—to reach for a quick hug around his shoulders. Weirdly enough, it felt... homey. Familiar and comforting in the way it was when showing Fred quick bouts of affection.

He didn't think about it too hard, merely focusing on one of the good feelings and letting go when that synthetic serotonin wore off. The children were already being wrangled by Freddy, and the former bear looked like he needed help with the rambunctious children. So with a wave goodbye Bonnie met them by the door, happy to hold it open and let everyone through.

Evan was currently being wrapped up in Puppet's hugging arms. She clung to his shoulders as the shortest Afton unintentionally dragged the lower half of her body behind them.

“Don't drag her like that, Evan! Her legs will catch on something,” Liz gently scolded, bending at the waist to pick up Puppet’s limbs while speaking. Gregory couldn't help but crack a smile at them.

“She survived the garbage chute, 'Lizabeth. Mari's tougher than a jawbreaker,” he praised, much to the Puppet's joy.

“Yeah—besides, if she wrapped all around me I couldn’t walk, so what else am I ‘sposed to do?” Evan deadpanned, though his grin showed he appreciated Lizzie’s help nonetheless. Puppet was certainly a long animatronic, apt to converge around a child completely when all her limbs got involved in an embrace—all the better to protect them with her own body if necessary, as was her design.

While the Aftons chatted, Hannah hung back slightly to fall into step with Bonnie. It was still hard for her to believe he was up and running after all this time. With a questioning tilt of her head and hands still clasped behind her back, she inquired: “So, Bonnie, are you gonna be back in the band now? I know Monty took your place, but like… can’t you both play the bass? Or one of you go on drums or something?”

Freddy had slowed his pace as well to better watch the kids, and he glanced over his shoulder briefly at Hannah’s question. He felt strongly inclined to speak up on Bonnie’s behalf, wanting to save his friend from potentially thinking back to any negatives… but as hard as it was to stay quiet, Freddy knew it was best to let Bonnie answer for himself. Now that his old friend knew everything, there was no need to respond for him. Besides, one way for Bonnie to get used to his new emotions was to deal with them head-on, just as Freddy had.

“Huh, you know what? I didn't rightly get to thinking about that,” Bonnie replied, scratching beneath his chin. It'd sure be nice to perform in front of a crowd again! It was just a question on whether management wanted that from him or not.

Maybe now was the time to start flexing his creative muscles—to go back to his roots and practice for an instrument they've been needing in their little ensemble. Bright pink eyes glanced down to Hannah and the expressive robot smiled with them to her.

“I've been meaning to pick up a new instrument! Heck, I might take Fred's old job! Singin' has always been my secret talent.” He mentioned that last part specifically as he saw Freddy listening in, knowing the bear would appreciate the joke. 

“Say Hannah, do you play any instruments?” Bonnie asked, offering the girl his hand as they walked. The younger kids liked to hold onto his paw, and though Hannah was a little older he figured being cordial to his biggest fan was only good manners.

Hannah was over the moon at this gesture, her feet floating off the ground slightly in her excited haste to latch onto her favorite bunny’s paw. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but Bonnie’s grip was comfortingly soft for such a big metallic robot.

“Um… I was actually trying to learn guitar,” the little ghost admitted, sounding a bit embarrassed. She hadn’t wanted to learn just because Bonnie played—at least, that wasn’t the only reason. A slight frown crossed her face. “My big sister was super good at it, and he started to teach me a little before—”

She cut off with a distant stare at the ground. However, the motion of her arm swinging along with Bonnie’s quickly perked her up enough to give a small laugh, pushing away the memories of her old life as was becoming a habit. “I’m not good at all though!”

“I am sure with more practice, you would be a wonderful guitarist,” Freddy commented, and Hannah beamed up at him. Freddy’s blue eyes flickered to Bonnie’s, a smile turning up his lips. “Perhaps we can find an extra guitar around here and someone could give you a few pointers…?”

Bonnie knew exactly what she was getting at. She must miss her family so much... Bonnie's empathy was going haywire, and he firmly squeezed her hand to garner her attention.

“Heck—I'll teach you guitar! I know a little thing or two about it. But we gotta get you to meet up with Chica. Boy howdy, she can really rip on the strings!” he offered, simultaneously praising their friend's talents for the electric guitar shredding she often was want to do. He refused to let this girl be sad on his watch. The next time they swung by the stage, Bonnie was sure Sam wouldn't mind them taking a guitar or two to teach Hannah how to hone her skills a little more. “You and I could start our own little band if the Glamrocks don't take me back!”

In the group ahead, Lizzie had asked Evan quietly: “Do you think Hannah's going to write a song about Gregory?”

She said it just to tease their newest friends. Though it earned her a well-placed elbow to the side from Gregory, making her shriek out in a bubbly laugh as she successfully got under his skin.

“That’d be awesome!” Hannah gasped, her eyes shining with the thought of playing with the Glamrocks. She loved them all, but Chica was definitely her second favorite without question, so the chance to have a jam sesh with her and Bonnie was filling her cold little heart full to bursting. She shook Bonnie’s arm, floating higher and completely unaware of the conversation happening a few feet away. “You’ve gotta tell me as soon as Chica’s back so I can meet her, too!”

Snickering at Gregory’s reaction, Evan leaned into his sister conspiratorially and replied: “Hannah’s gonna write him a song, and Gregory’s gonna draw her a picture on that electric notepad thingy Sam gave him.”

Gregory had shown off his tablet briefly the other day, though Freddy opted to take it for safe keeping when the kid started running around. The ursine man might not know exactly how much it cost, but judging by Michael’s reaction to the cell phones he reasoned the CEO spent a pretty penny on family gifts. The last thing they needed was for it to get broken in a prank gone awry…

“You promised you’d show us that again, Gregory,” Evan reminded eagerly. The years of being stuck inside outdated Pizzerias—and even more outdated animatronics—were starting to reveal their effect the more time Gregory spent around the old ghosts. “I still don’t believe it’s a computer! It’s waaaay too small!”

Gregory had taken a cursory glance behind them, content to know that Hannah was preoccupied with her conversation with Bonnie to even recognize her name was being said repeatedly. Though their affection was quickly becoming mutualized, Gregory still hadn't had the guts to say anything to Hannah yet. Evan's playful jeer did give Gregory an idea though—making Hannah something would show her that he thought she was special to him.

What to draw her, though? Maybe something with Bonnie... He'd have to use the rabbit as a model.

Gregory sent the Aftons exaggerated glares before raising an eyebrow to Evan. His sister and brother were robots, plus they themselves were ghosts—and Evan couldn't believe that computers could be small? Then again, these two came from a strange world of technological marvels. Recreational computers just weren't anything like the things they had now. Still, a smile eventually found its way to Gregory's face and he told them:

“I'll show you guys when we get to the arcade! I... I should draw her something though.” He laughed, admitting what the group already knew without actually having to say it out loud. “All of us can draw and play video games together.”

They opted for the East Arcade, allowing Music Man to rest another night without being awoken to blast some more tunes for screeching children. The attractions had all been opened up to allow staff easy access wherever and whenever they needed, so the slated garage doors rose automatically upon the group's arrival. While Hannah tugged Bonnie forward towards her favorite console, Evan stopped dead in his tracks. The flashing neon lights reflected off his huge eyes as he stared around in jaw-dropping wonder. This place had nothing on any Fazbear restaurants he'd seen before—and it was apparently just one of several arcades throughout the building. Sammy had really outdone himself.

“Whoa,” the ghost breathed out, not even sure where to go first. At least the arcade cabinets themselves were familiar, although surely most of the games were new to him. Plus, there were just so many of them! As his gaze swiveled rapidly around the room, Evan noticed a massive prize counter stuffed to the brim with plushies and other gifts to be won with an exorbitant amount of tickets. He tapped the Puppet's arm with one hand, pointing the prize counter with the other. “Look, Mari! You can hand out a buttload of presents from there!”

Elizabeth was frozen solid, her eyes unblinking before she could wiggle herself free. The nearly endless feeling of all the game titles and challenges was making her head swim with all the possibilities. Watching Gregory draw would have to wait; Liz simply couldn't keep all of these games waiting for her. It figured that a former child raised within the confines of the Fazbear diners would have a vision so grandiose.

“This is only the east arcade?” Liz dared to ask Gregory, amazed that there were more of these goliath entertainment centers around the Pizzaplex with even more challenges and titles to test their skills at.

The Puppet slowly slunk off of Evan in favor of performing her little programed tasks. She may partially have a human's consciousness now, but there was something about the simplicity of handing a kid a toy after a hard day’s work of earning tickets that felt satisfying.

“Yeah! We won't get through all of them today, so we got to do the classics and THEN do the new ones,” Gregory said, walking towards Freddy to tug on his shirt. “Dad? Hey, do you have my tablet?”

“Ah—I believe I left it in Sam's office since it was inconvenient to carry,” Freddy replied, patting down his pockets just in case the device would magically appear. With an apologetic smile, he ruffled Gregory's hair and told him: “I can fetch it for you; it will only take a moment. Bonnie?”

The rabbit had already been pulled to a far corner of the arcade by his superfan, who'd finally released his paw so she could show him her talent at her favorite Pacman-like iteration. Freddy's expression softened at the display and he placed a hand on Gregory's back, gently urging him towards the still overwhelmed-looking Evan. “Go play, superstar; I will be right back.”

When Gregory moved towards his surrogate sibling, Freddy headed towards Bonnie and Hannah, stopping at their side and reaching up to tap the rabbit's shoulder. Hannah was fully engrossed in her game, barely acknowledging Freddy's presence as he told the lagomorphic robot: “I am going to grab Gregory's tablet from Samuel's office—do you mind watching them for five minutes, old friend?” 

Bonnie had his attention pulled from Hannah for just a short moment. With the confidence and experience to watch groups of kids, he didn't have a worry in the world. With a lazy smile, Bonnie waved him off.

“Sure thing, Freddy! Tell the Boss-man I said 'Howdy', will ya?” he asked, turning back to place a hand on Hannah's shoulder as she played her game. She was impressing the old bunny with her skill on the old joystick and button console. “How are you this good at Balloon Pop?! You're going to make the high score roster for sure!”

A cursory glance over to the Afton kids let Bonnie know the kids were still adjusting from the shock of the more modern Pizzeria. Gregory meanwhile began to shake both Elizabeth and Evan from their stupors.

“GUYS! Come on! We should play bug stomp before Freddy gets back!” he tried to encourage, only managing to move them a few inches before they loosened up on their own accords. He needed to get some gaming in before his dad returned, or he'd likely not get a chance to play at all tonight with the picture he wanted to make for Hannah.

Evan finally got the wherewithal to start forward, following after Gregory as the boy directed them to the game in question. Evan tried his best to take in all the new titles and artwork of these modern day machines, but everything blended together in a big blur. He vaguely registered Puppet's slim frame lounging in the netting above the prize counter, relaxing in a pile of plushies until her first “customer” came over to trade tickets for gifts. A wistful little smile crossed the ghost's face at this. At least Mari was happy; she deserved it, after everything she'd done for them.

Mari was a relatively carefree animatronic on the surface, her lackadaisical repose inside the netting giving her the air of a sentinel amidst the various toys and gadgets. She waved to the kids as they frantically passed her by, happy to watch them from the sidelines to make sure everyone was safe.

It's why she did everything. First and foremost, her central programming was to make sure Charlie was safe. But with every missing child that came after her, Puppet had slowly righted every tragedy. Her Gifts were finally being enjoyed to their fullest extent, and those children could relive their happiest days forever...

Yet it always seemed something wanted to place themselves in the way of that perfect, picturesque life.

Hardly anything got past the Puppet. Not one sound or motion that wasn't analyzed critically. And the shadow passing just outside the hall had drawn her attention quickly. It could be Monty, but the shadow itself was smaller—Freddy was a rather tall man in his human form, and even with this stretched-out darkness just lurking quietly outside, she could see it wasn't their friend. Her music box clicked, starting out of old habit. Above the sounds of various arcade games being played, the old melody played as she slowly slunk down from her precarious perch to investigate.

Bonnie had hardly noticed. His attention was either fixated solely on Hannah, or having called out in asking what game the others were off to go play.

There was that music box again. It played for various reasons—to soothe, to help a child drift off to sleep, to announce when a big prize was won... But it could also play when the Puppet was curious.

Having spent so long by her side, Evan was particularly tuned into Mari's lullaby. Cassidy was the same, but seeing as she was nowhere in the vicinity it was only Evan who turned his head, watching the slim, striped Marionette slink across the floor in a fluid search. He started to ask what she was looking for, but a tug on his sleeve from Gregory distracted him enough.

Puppet would let them know if there was danger about, he was sure of it. There was no need to stress; he was here to have fun, and that's what he was going to do.

***

Meanwhile, Freddy arrived at Sam's office only to find it locked. He must be off gallivanting the Pizzaplex with Michael and Charlie. Freddy sighed, wishing he could connect to one of them in an instant like he used to be able to do with his bandmates... Until he realized that he could, in a way. Finally, he'd get to use this cell phone Sam so graciously provided.

Slipping it out of his pocket, Freddy scrolled through the few contacts Sam preinstalled until he found the CEO, upon which he'd press the “call” button as Michael showed him the other day. He held the device up to his ear, thankful to hear it ringing on the other end and even more relieved when Sam's familiar voice picked up.

“Hello, Sam,” Freddy said, speaking a bit louder than he needed to with the microphone so close to his mouth. “I would like to get Gregory's tablet from your office, but it is locked; I apologize for the inconvenience, but would you be able to meet me here? It should only take a moment!” 

Sometimes Sam wondered if he designed Freddy far too politely. It didn't grate his nerves by any means, though he hoped it eventually didn't lead to some kind of complex. Regardless, he answered with a happy sounding: “Fredbear! No, it won't be a problem. I was just showing Mike the newest upgrades in the security system, but he'll be fine while I'm gone.”

Sam would give the guard in question a thumbs up in case he was wondering why Freddy called. It was by no means an emergency, but that didn't mean it didn’t require Sam's attention.

“I'll meet you there,” Sam said decisively, briefly looking down at his nails before wishing him goodbye and hanging up. Oil and dirt came clean from under the whites of his nail bed, and he flicked the dirt to the floor with the dismantled Chica parts. Another robot was almost ready to go, and the more Sam worked with Michael the more thankful he was to have the guy back in his life. He had so much experience inside the company, Mike by all means should be running it with him.

“I'll be right back—Gregory needs his tablet and it's inside the office.” Sam raised a bushy brow towards his friend at the security desk. “You're going to be good while I'm gone?”

Whether he meant ''good' as if fine mood and work wise, or 'good' as in no causing harm or mischief seemed to be left up to Michael. Now clad in the standard white button-up and black pants of the Fazbear security uniform, Michael leaned back in the swivel chair and tipped his hat with a jaunty grin.

“I’ll be fine, Boss,” he replied, still amused that his childhood friend was now technically his employer. Gesturing to the multitude of camera feeds on the monitors, Mike added: “I’ve done this a thousand times—trust me, I know what I’m doing. If there’s any trouble on either end, we’ve got walkies and cell phones to contact each other. Just leave it up to your night guard to keep things running smoothly.”

Was this mild pontificating a way to cover up his nerves at being left alone at a security desk again?

…Possibly, though Michael would never admit it. For literally the first time since he’d started working security guard positions, he would not be on the lookout for possessed, bloodthirsty animatronics. In fact, everyone he’d able to see on the cameras—robotic, ghostly, or human—was his friend in some capacity. Well, except Ennard, though they clung to the vents and would be hard to spot on camera anyway.

With a grimace, Michael glanced up to the grated vent opening in the wall in front of him, hoping he wouldn’t get a surprise visit. No promises he wouldn’t instantly taze the now-helpful amalgamation due to traumatic flashbacks…

Flipping his expression back into a casual smile, Michael kicked his feet up on the desk and gestured lazily for Sam to go. “You’d better meet Freddy before he starts freaking out because you’re thirty seconds later than he expects you to be; we’ll be in touch.” 

“You're the best, Mikey.” Sam smiled, throwing up another thumb in the air as the pneumatic hiss of the security door whooshed up and over his head. Samuel walked leisurely, checking his phone on his walk to the office. There was never a break for work for him; when not actively tightening bolts on an animatronic, he was always checking emails or texts from business suppliers and partners.

As Samuel arrived to his office in search of the drawing tablet, Mike would probably notice the movements on the other cameras. With several sections of the mall to flip through, he could catch glimpses of their friends in Daycare. Charlie was currently blowing up his phone with memes she'd found from 2008, now fully entrenched in the culture of that time.

Scrolling through the feeds, something struck Michael as odd: the sound of a familiar music box, growing closer and closer no matter which camera he checked.

***

Previous Chapter ~~ Next Chapter (Coming soon)

Looking for more? Check out the Chapter Masterlist on Tumblr!

Or check out the entire Wires that Bind Us Series on ao3!

#fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #fnaf #fnaf au #five nights at freddy's #michael afton #charlie emily #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #angelofrainfrogs #zeitghest #spend the night #going back #the wires that bind us au #sammy emily #gregory #glamrock freddy #puppet fnaf #elizabeth afton #evan afton #crying child #cc afton #glamrock bonnie #henry emily

[mysticstarlightduck]

Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday!

How prevalent is 'foreign' culture, in any of its forms from cuisine to media, in one society in your Setting? How well do its members take foreign people living amongst them?

Happy WBW! Thank you so much for the ask, @thetruearchmagos! I'll answer this one for Enchanted Illusions!

How prevalent is 'foreign' culture, in any of its forms from cuisine to media, in one society in your Setting? How well do its members take foreign people living amongst them?

This is one of the core themes of my WIP Enchanted Illusions actually! A lot of the worldbuilding and story elements hinge on the fact that, before the main story, humans and Myths (magical creatures, such as faeries, elves, vampires, werewolves, etc) had been trapped in a bloody war that spanned generations, until they came to a truce and peace treaty a couple of centuries ago. Thus, the capital city of Ansburke became a symbol of this newfound peace between both humans and Myths, a melting pot for all of their cultures to converge, ushering in a new era of progress and peace into their world - or so it should have been.

The problem is, that resentment and prejudice were still present amidst some very influential parts of the population - especially some humans who still saw Myths as monsters that should be kicked out of the city. And while the city did become a place where both humans and myths could coexist in peace and find new ways to make a better future, some of those prejudiced people still remained, and little by little they fed the disorder and prejudice amongst common people, looking to profit off of the chaos of another civil war. This is the origin of the villains, the dreadful Hemlock Society who seeks to eradicate myths and ""save humanity"" (which is basically their euphemism for becoming tyrannical dictators). Those villains have spent a lot of time undermining the foundations of peace in their city, and the heroes/protagonists of the story will have to race against time to prevent the Hemlock's Society corrupted plans from coming to fruition.

In a general sense, however, when we're not talking about the structural prejudice of the city of Ansburke and the villains seeking to create chaos from it, the relationships between humans and the mythical beings (since the city of Ansburke is said to have been founded by humans, myths are considered a foreign culture - many of the myths hail from other kingdoms or villages such as the Faery Courts or the Firstgrove cities, where the banshees, werewolves and elves come from. Some vampiric clans, however, have existed in Ansburke under human radar since long before the peace treaty, only now they do get to live openly as vampires and not hide) are pretty chill for the most of it. Magic is a part of daily life as common as can be in the day-to-day lives of the citizens of Ansburke, with magical creations sometimes replacing human inventions (In Ansburke most of the tech comes from a mix of science and magic, there's nearly no exceptions to that rule. e.g Instead of electricity as a light source - for the most part - they have an infinite magical light source, which is basically enchanted sunlight stored in tubes connected to the lamps and candelabras of most richer establishments)

Because magic and science became so entwined, the city of Ansburke is actually more technologically advanced and steampunk than the actual 1800s period it is inspired in.

Humans and Myths co-exist in the same city, as much as the villains try to make it otherwise, peacefully since the truce was settled. There are sirens singing in cabaret bars, a faerie who owns a baking shop, basilisks/gorgons as hairdressers, vampire physicians who have collected a vast amount of knowledge through their eternal lifetime, Shapeshifters who use their talents for acting, and even a Banshee trying to become a painter (this Banshee character is actually a part of the main cast! his name is Oisian and he is a close friend of the MCs, especially Agatha and Harriet). They're very much an integral part of the city, and at this point are the source most of Ansburke's true culture and magic.

That underlying tension in the mind of the few humans who haven't been able to let go of the war or get over it and accept each other's differences to live with other people in peace, is the perfect target for the Hemlock Society's villains to exploit, so - by the end of the book - tensions get so high that the risk of a civil war is actually true.

#wip enchanted illusions #wbw asks! #asked and answered! #asked and answered #writing #fantasy writing #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writer #writeblr

[kamreadsandrecs]

Title: Sundial Author: Catriona Ward Genre/s: horror, science fiction Content/Trigger Warnings: physical and emotional abuse (adult and child), animal experimentation and death, animal attack (dog), portrayals of severe mental illness, pregnancy, childbirth, blood, gore Summary (from publisher’s website): Rob has spent her life running from Sundial, the family’s ranch deep in the Mojave Desert, and her childhood memories. But she’s worried about her daughter, Callie, who collects animal bones and whispers to imaginary friends. It reminds her of a darkness that runs in her family, and Rob knows it’s time to return. Callie is terrified of her mother. Rob digs holes in the backyard late at night, and tells disturbing stories about growing up on the ranch. Soon Callie begins to fear that only one of them will leave Sundial alive... Buy Here: https://bookshop.org/p/books/sundial-catriona-ward/17086617 Spoiler-Free Review: So I picked this up because I needed a bit of a break from the Pink Carnation reread I was doing, and what better to cleanse my brain than a horror novel right? So I fed a handful of picks through a randomizer, and Sundial was the one that popped up, so I settled in and got started. And did any of you know it was possible for horror to have layers? BECAUSE THIS BOOK HAS LAYERS. IT IS A VERITABLE LAYER CAKE OF HORRORS. AN ONION EVEN. First layer - What it’s like being in an abusive relationship, and what it takes to survive in one, and then later, what it takes to escape from it. Second layer - Learning that what you thought was your past, your history, was utterly untrue. This is utterly terrible because so much of what makes us who we are is our past. So if you find out that what you thought was your history is, in fact, untrue? That sort of thing is horrific - especially so when you learn that your ACTUAL history is nothing short of nightmarish. Third layer - Learning that you were altered without your knowledge, and that it was done “for your benefit” and “for the benefit of the world.” First, imagine finding out that who you thought you are is NOT who you actually are, and then follow that up with the whammy of learning that you were ALTERED in order to, supposedly, keep yourself and everyone around you safe. Imagine not having this explained to you. Imagine not being ASKED if this is what you wanted. It was just DONE to you. Fourth layer - Finding out that you may in fact be a monster - and that the monster inside of you might be coming out once more to destroy everything you love and care about. Fifth layer - Looking at your own child, and wondering if the monster you harbored inside you is also in them, and that said monster is beginning to manifest. When I finished this novel I kind of stared at the ceiling of my room because WHAT IN THE ACTUAL EVERLOVING FUCK? What makes this even more powerful is that the above layers of horror are also twined around themes of siblinghood and motherhood: how it’s possible to love, hate, and even fear your siblings and/or your parents, and how parents can love, hate, and fear their own children.. Most media portrays the sibling and parent/child dynamic as straightforward, but this story really tackled the complexities and nuances of those relationships. So overall, this book is an amazing, nightmarish read. The slow reveal of the utter horror of the truth at the heart of the story, the peeling back of all those layers of history were immense fun, especially backed by the themes of siblinghood and parenthood that formed the thematic backbone of the story overall. The twists were great too: I didn’t see them coming, but they also made sense in the overall context of the story. This was absolutely the cleanse my brain needed, and I’m also going to have to shovel more of Ward’s books onto my TBR, because this was INCREDIBLE. Rating: five cow bells

#book review #book reviews #sundial #catriona ward #horror #books

[vctlan]

Food HC - Kyrie. What is the first meal Kyrie remembers eating? Who made it? How did it affect her views on food from then on out (pickiness, preferences, value)?

Food HC - Kunsel. What's the worst thing Kunsel has ever eaten on assignment?

ᴋʏʀɪᴇ ᴅɪ ꜰᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴀ

The earliest memory of food Kyrie has is of eating risotto at her grandmother's home, late in the evening -- she can't quite recall the day surrounding it, mostly that it was filled with the same dotting yet not morose feeling that she associated with her grandparents, who were tasked with raising them after the untimely death of her and Credo's parents until they too would pass. She has the feeling it was the day of, if not the following, her parent’s funeral, but isn’t entirely sure.

Regarding the meal, the mushrooms were freshly picked, and the rice had been cooked down to a near porridge, her grandmother trying to accommodate to a girl that had once been terribly picky as a toddler. Still, Kyrie did not eat, meekly sitting at the dinner table with her head low, scrunching and pulling at the table cloth. Trying to talk her into it did nothing, only getting meek head shakes in return, and her grandmother didn't push it further, only letting her know that it would get cold soon.

And then Credo, who'd quietly eaten without a fuss in hopes of incentivizing his sister to do the same, scooted his chair closer to hers, and grabbed her spoon for her, and brought it up to her face. She still didn’t feel like eating, but not wanting to be a bother, she allowed herself to be spoon-fed -- only to find that she was hungrier than she’d even realized.

At the time, the flavors were a little too heavy for her to distinguish, but she appreciated the warm complexity of it, and the way her grandmother sighed in relief didn’t go unnoticed -- it drew her out of her thoughts, and into the moment, the very first time she considered food something more than just fuel for the day. It could have sentiment, it could have depth, it could be healing... or at least, having a full belly distracted her from the dark ache that had settled by her heart.

ᴋᴜɴꜱᴇʟ ᴢᴀɴᴛᴏꜱ

Not counting an outlier situation where in literal poison had gotten into their food supply in a “freak accident” that people called him paranoid over for declaring it an “undocumented experiment by the science department” there’s really one assignment that comes to mind if we’re looking for the actual worst.

Sure, he’s eaten his fair share of dubious items over the months and years in the program, but it’s a pretty well known fact that SOLDIER’s are extreme omnivores, their stomach acid comparable to battery acid... if not stronger. Being told that you can and should eat bones now is easy, reminding yourself that you can and go against years of learned habit is hard. Food-borne illness is simply not a thing once you reach SOLDIER level enhancements.

So picture this: you’re Kunsel, there’s a month left to your solo assignment, and you only have food left for... one week, and all HQ tells you is you’ll be taken to care facilities once you come back. Basically, telling you to suck it up and that you wouldn’t die, even if it felt like you were starving. Reassuring for sure, but absolutely useless in helping the situation.

Still, Kunsel is nothing but practical, and unlike SOME PEOPLE he’s capable of sitting still and not burning calories for the hell of it. He just had to ration it right and --

... The moment he opened the last box of provisions, he was met with the sight of the supposedly vacuum sealed meal packs inflated. Every single one of them? Has slowly been going off over the last two months he’d been on assignment in the remote parts of fuck-all nowhere. And that was supposed to be his food for the month.

He tried avoiding them for as long as he could, but eventually the hunger won. It was just him, alone, stuck with a meal plan consisting of cold and rancid food, doing his work and then lying about in misery that was more mind than body... Not recomended, he swears he can still smell it sometimes.

#thank you for the ask bestie 🥺 #i see the bias for kyrie and against kunsel and i respect it dskfhsd #( ask reply ) #( kunsel zantos : meta ) #empyrcal #｢ headcanon ｣ 𝘒𝘠𝘙𝘐𝘌 𝘋𝘐 𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘛𝘜𝘕𝘈

[anthrologies]

two spiritual-ish thoughts in my head this morning

while i was driving to work today i thought about nature's cycles and the continuous cycles of life and death and rebirth- the sun rising and setting, the lunar cycle, menstrual cycles, seasons changing and the circle of life. every single day and every year and every lifetime is a cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth and i think it's really beautiful that nature always returns to life. the sun rises, peaks, sets, and night falls but the sun always comes around again. the moon waxes until it is full and then it wanes and disappears but it always waxes again. my uterus creates a space for a baby to grow each month and when no baby arrives, it sheds that pillow and creates a fresh one for the next month. trees and grass and animals fall asleep every winter, only to reawaken in the spring, find full life in summer and then prepare to rest again in the fall. and humans are born and take in nutrients and resources from the earth and the plants and animals and elements around us, and then when we die we return to the earth to feed the worms, who then feed the plants and the animals that we once fed on ourselves. every cycle has life and death and no one part of that is more worthy than the other, every phase is equally important to the balance of nature. it's very beautiful and brings me an immense sense of peace.

on a semi-related note, i'm in a discord server with my boyfriend and his friends. a lot of his friends are in stem careers, specifically computer science. and this morning they're sharing AI generated texts with each other. in my private chat with my bf i called the AI posts "offensive" and it was a half joke but the more i thought about, the more i settled on this stuff actually being offensive! not to me and not in any like popular meaning of the word, but i think that AI is an offense to nature. the beauty of art, in all its forms, is that a human created it. the works of great painters and sculptors, great composers, great writers are all so special not just because of their outstanding skill but because they were created by, ultimately, just some guy. Van Gogh and Austen and Mozart were human just like anyone else. they had flaws and insecurities and made mistakes and died just like anyone else. the fact that a human can create something, anything! let alone something so enduring that it speaks to our souls centuries later. THAT is what makes art so amazing! i think that the act of creating art is a way for humans to connect to a godly power that lies within us all (whether that's a traditional capital g god or something more abstract is up to you). to create something beautiful, something meaningful that speaks to our souls for no reason other than the love of it is divine. i hate AI-generated art, and in this specific example AI-generated marketing copy, because of its inherent soullessness. it's being done by robots for the sake of making profit and increasing the bottom line. like yeah it's always annoying to be on the receiving end of marketing no matter who makes it, but at least in most cases it was done with a level of care and love by an actual person, and i can appreciate the beauty in that. once all of this creation is done by robots, what do we have left to make us human?

#rambling

[moemammon]

When I was in High School, my crush and I got into a fight and neither of us were talking to each other. One day I was headed up the stairwell to get to my science class, when I saw them coming up from behind... I don't think they had even noticed me yet considering that they were busy talking to their friend BUT I am slow going up stairs so even if I rushed up the stairs roadrunner style they would have caught up to me, well; the little corner that connects the steps going up to the second floor and the steps heading down to the ground floor had a large open window... and I jumped out, like I literally just jumped out. I didn't even think it through, I just saw the window and my body was like "Yep, IK what to do." I landed on a bush or tree? It's too big to call a bush but too small to call a tree, landed in a squat before my feet gave out and I fall onto my knees and got two large grass stains on my jeans knee part, couldn't walk right either after that landing, I was shaky all day lol but it was a risk well calculated bc the whole thing would have been so awkward. I mean we used to be like BFFS before the rumors began and then they started and we just stopped talking without warning, we couldn't even look at each other. Our science partners, bc we were in groups of four, literally got fed up of our bullshit bc we literally refused to acknowledge the others existence... anyway, I digress...

Anyway, this whole story is a long winded way of me requesting how the brothers would react to an MC that literally just jumps out windows to avoid awkward moments, or to dodge people that want to ask them for favors, or when they straight up want to avoid someone?

And sorry about the large ass message, but thanks for letting me vent

You have a special place in my heart, window-jumping anon. Just uhhhhhhh look down next time okay? Ily

The Demon Brothers react to GN!MC jumping out of a window to avoid an awkward moment

(Mario jumping sound effect)

Lucifer

He approached you after class to ask exactly what you were snickering at your D.D.D. about during class.

Must've been real funny if you weren't listening to your lecture, huh?

"I imagine you've somehow found something worthy of laughing about in Demonology 101?"

You do not have the guts to tell him that you and Mammon were texting back and forth, abusing a new photo editing app to alter pictures of the eldest himself.

I mean, take a wild guess about how he’d react to seeing how big you edited his head to be-

The avatar of pride lets his eyes pierce into you, like he's trying to stare a hole through your blanket of "uh"s and "um"s,

You don't exactly see a way out of this one, but you can NOT let Lucifer see your photo gallery.

So you glance to your left to the open classroom window, and do the only thing you can think of: you jump.

Luckily you're on the ground floor so you??? really didn't have to jump so dramatically. But the fact that you yeeted yourself into a bush JUST to escape has left Lucifer speechless.

Honestly? He so impressed with your dedication that he's not gonna stop you. Besides, he's gonna see you back at home anyway so-

Also thinks you might be hanging around Mammon too much because that 100% seems like a stunt he’d pull.

Mammon

GIVE GOLDIE BACK RIGHT NOW

He KNOWS Lucifer told you to bring the credit card to him, and he demands to know where it's hidden! He's positive you know where it is!

But you don't really though?? You just brought the card to him like you were asked. If anything, you're the victim here!

But Mammon isn't having that. The avatar of greed is circling around you like an angry cat, patting you all over like airport security to see if you've got his beloved card.

"Where is it, huh?! Ya really think you can steal from THE Mammon?! Even if Lucifer told ya to, who do ya think you are?!"

When he has confirmed that you don't in fact have his previous Goldie, he's now cornering you up against a wall.

If looks could kill, you would've exploded into a fine powder

And you feel like your mental strength is about to do just that. So what do you do after you notices the slightest of breezes caress your face?

You jump outta that open window, before Mammon can even finish his "Wh- Oi! What're ya-"

Even though you just face planted into the garden, you're up on your feet and making a mad dash for somewhere that wasn't here.

Mammon lets you run for ten while seconds before he's hopping out after you. You think you can outfox the Great Mammon?! Think again!!!

Levi

You... weren't interested in this movie in the slightest, but you didn't have the heart to tell Levi that. Especially not after he’d begged/harassed you for the past week about watching it with him!

Reluctantly you agreed, and now you were suffering,,,But Levi was ecstatic! This movie was a classic! Sure it was an old one and the acting was a little bad, but you could overlook that if you watched it with your heart, not your eyes!

According to Levi.

You managed to keep your eyes open for the grueling one and a half hour movie, enduring every corny line of bad acting, horrible CGI, and lame sound effects straight out of a 90s super hero movie, and now the hell was finally over...

Or so you though, until Levi followed that up by immediately pulling out a cosplay outfit worn by one of the supporting characters in the show.

Funny how it seemed specifically tailored to your measurements. Even funnier how Levi was looking at you with those damned eyes.

You knew what he wanted without him even having to say it. But one look at the gaudy outfit he presented to you made your heart burn with a sudden indescribable urge.... to escape.

Honestly you caught him so off guard by suddenly getting up and sprinting out of the room, that he makes a sound that's pretty much the noise equivalent of "?!?!?!?!?!?"

He watches you run down to the end of the hall, throw the window open, and fuckin JUMP. Pretty sure he just witnessed your death??

Also this kinda solidified his 'gross otaku' mentality, seeing as you literally jumped out of a window to get out of cosplaying with him. A simple no would've sufficed, MC.......,.,,..,,,

Hey gamers... can we get an F in the chat? 😔✌️💦

Satan

Satan lent you a book to read last week that he was sure you'd be interested in! He found it pretty interesting himself, so he wants to see if you'd like it as much as he did.

That being said, you don't have the heart to tell him that you,,, didn't read any of it. Well you kind of did, if the cover counts for anything.

You doubt he would accept that as an answer, considering how you told him how much you appreciated receiving the book, and how you'd definitely read it and let him know how it was.

So now, Satan had come into your room with two cups of tea, ready to settle down and have a nice, long talk about your thoughts on the riveting plot that you promised you would indulge in.

"I'm really glad you decided to read it. I found that the protagonist reminded me a lot like you. I'd like to know what you thought about it."

Satan sets down the tea cups, and one sip tells you that he brewed it exactly the way you like.

His expression is eager and warm as he waits for you to begin gushing about just how deeply the story touched you... how absolutely moved you are by the sheer majesty that was the book he lent you...

Okay yeah, you're sweating bullets. You can't imagine how the sparkly eyed avatar of wrath would react to learning that you chose the company of your D.D.D. over Satan's book.

You don't have such an ice cold hard that you can just crush this book nerds dreams like that! And every time you look at his expectant face, the weight of your crimes weigh heavier on you until... you break.

Satan watches in shock and awe as you almost perfectly reenact the big scene where the main character leaps out of the window of a building rigged to explode, before making their escape. And you did just that.

Wow.. he never thought you could be so moved by a story, but he completely understands...

Asmo

How many outfits, Asmo. HOW MANY OUTFTITS WILL IT TAKE TO APPEASE YOU?

He's made you model TWELVE outfits so far, and you swear if you see another ascot, you're gonna lose your mind.

Asmodeus doesn't seem to notice the way the light slowly fades from your eyes, because he's pulling out outfit number thirteen with that cheery smile of his.

"Isn't this one absolutely adorable? Look, this part will look lovely around your waist! This part here hugs your body in all the right places, and this-"

You can't do it. You've gotta get out of here. You'd love to stand around and get mild rug burn from trying on a billion different clothes, but-

Actually no you wouldn't.

You DID promise Asmo you'd hang out with him today, but this wasn't really your idea of a good time.

"-Oooh, just thinking about it makes me want to eat you up~! Here, put it on for me, will you? I'll give you a kiss as a reward!"

You would do no such thing.

You make a mad dash for his ornate window and push it open. He has no time to stop you as he helplessly watches you vault yourself out like the room was on fire.

"MC?! Wh-where are you going?? Come back here! Grass stains are impossible to get out of that fabric!!!"

Beel

He means well. I swear he does. It's just that Beel can be a little... overbearing when he's worried about you. He cares, okay?

But he hasn't seen you eat anything all day! You tell him it's because you've got a stomach ache from who knows what, and you promise you've had little snacks here and there to keep from starving, but he can't accept that!

Eating is important, and you need it to survive. So Beelzebub was currently trying to nudge your mouth open with a pizza slice, while you vehemently refused. "Just one bite. And then another after that. You have to eat, or you'll go hungry... and I don't want that."

Beel knows the true pain of being hungry, and he’d never wish that on you! So just forget about your stomach ache for two seconds and open up-

Not that you really can. The aroma of that pizza was not sitting well on your stomach, and you were pretty sure you needed a fast escape or you'd risk losing your lunch. Greasy foods didn't exactly mix well with sour stomachs...

Beel still won't let up. He has a strong hand planted firmly on the small of your back, as if trying to prevent you from leaning back any further in your attempt to escape the pizza.

"If you eat this, I'll treat you to dessert at Madam Screams," he says, as if bribing your refusal of food USING food will somehow work out.

You can't break his heart, but you seriously can't eat that! Your head is spinning, thoughts racing, face becoming greasier and greasier from the pizza pressed against it, and-

You snap. In a sudden burst of strength you break free from Beel's grasp, and sprint toward the nearest window. All you see is your chance for freedom, and you're taking it.

You leap out and tumble into the ground, all while Beelzebub wonders what?? Just happened???? Did you really hate pizza that much...?

He never knew you were such a picky eater... To think you'd go so far as to jump out of the window though...

Belphie

You thought it was cute at first, when Belphegor wanted you to join him for his naps. And you didn't mind much. It was the weekend, you were tired, and he makes a pretty good body pillow.

But you didn't realize he planned for this to become an everyday thing. The youngest might not act it, but he sure could be spoiled.

But seriously, if you slept any longer, you might never have a normal sleep schedule again! It never occurred to you just how often Belphie sleeps.

He's definitely not human, because there's no way you can keep up with that, and maintain a normal lifestyle.

But the way he quietly, gently grabs your sleeve to cue your next nap session makes your heart clench. Why was it so damned hard to say no to this gremlin??

You were trying your best though, but the words always seemed to get caught in your throat. Belphie picked apart your excuses, doing everything in his power to take you back to the attic.

"You can study when you wake up." "Mammon wants to go shopping? Reschedule." "Lucifer told you not to be late to the board meeting? Just hide."

You're starting to get sucked into the sleepy lull of his voice, and it feels like your entire body is becoming heavy with fatigue. But no.... you resist!

Since there's no escaping this through words, you have to think fast. Fortunately, your fast thinking has led to an amazing solution!

Jump out of the window, baby

Belphie is just??? Did you fuckin???? Are your legs okay??????????????

He probably stops asking you to nap with him for a while, since you're willing to almost break your legs just to get out of it. You're gonna make him have weird dreams....

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #shall we date obey me #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #mammon #obey me belphie #obey me! #obey me! levi #obey me! satan #obey me! belphegor #obey me lucifer #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me Asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me! shall we date? #shall we date? #shall we date #shall we date? obey me! #shall we date om #om swd #om shall we date #obey me! beelzebub #obey me mc #list

[boldlyvoid]

36 Questions to Fall in Love

Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day

warnings: strangers to lovers, blind dates, betting, talks of: drug use, drug addiction, abusive marriages, rape, sexual assault, abuse, attempted murder, mass shootings, parental death, love confessions, elopements, opposite of slow burn

word count: 8K

A/N: this is based on a request I received a while back about this article

Derek was a betting man, to say the least. He knew Spencer was from Vegas, he also knew Emily couldn’t say no to a challenge and that Rossi had enough money to burn. Betting at work was the best way to have fun when he worked there, and now he can’t stop.

“I’m not saying con a woman into loving you, I’m saying let us find a girl and let’s see if she can fall in love with you, take a week off from work and just spend time wooing her, and in a week, me or Emily will hit on her, if she turns us down for you, then you’ve won.”

Derek explained it like it was simple, and yet the mere thought of being set up with someone was horrifyingly nerve-wracking. But he got Spencer to agree… unbeknown to him that he had another bet going on the side.

You see earlier that day he was invited to Penelope’s apartment, her younger sister was moving in for a little while and they needed a big strong man to help move the boxes. And like Penelope, Y/N was really chatty and overly friendly really fast. It was like he’s always known Y/N Garcia.

She explained to Derek how hard it was in California to find good men who want someone to love them, she’s tired of guys thinking she comes on too fast, she wants someone who wants to settle and have kids and be a dad. Not a Vain narcissist who only cares about what the city can offer him.

“The last guy I went on a date with literally ran when I mentioned I read a New York Times article about 36 questions to make you fall in love… I just want a person to love? Is that really so hard?”

A lightbulb goes off in Derek’s mind, and Penelope almost reads it.

“Spencer.” They both reply with the same cheeky grin.

“I bet you, you could be as insane as you say you are and he’d still be in love with you by the end of the week.” Derek teases, and the way she smiles shows just how interested she is.

—

Woo her.

The words have rattled around in his brain every second of every moment since Derek said he found a girl for him.

She was free on Saturday, all Spencer had to do was tell Derek where she should meet him and all Penelope had to do was not mention to Spencer that she had a sister, it was up to Y/N when Spencer learned that fact.

She’s already there at the restaurant when he arrives, he’s not sure what he was expecting when Derek said he found the perfect girl but it wasn’t this. He was thinking it was going to be a joke, that either no one would show or Derek was hooking him up with some hot blonde who was way out of his league.

She was beautiful in a nice dress, her makeup was stunning and she looked so content sitting there, waiting for him. Starring her ice water with a straw, she wasn’t paying any attention to the room, she barely knew he was there.

“Hi?” He said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Hi,” she beamed up at him, that same unsure look on her face. Neither of them was expecting anything from the other, but they were pleasantly surprised.

“Spencer Reid,” he says, actually extending a hand to shake her’s because it’s the chivalrous thing to do.

She reaches out her hand, watching him take it and kiss her knuckle softly, she’s so surprised. “Oh, um, Y/N Garcia,” she whispers the name and his eyes go wide.

“Garcia?” He panics a little, sitting down in the booth and facing her as her face drops at his reaction.

“Did he not tell you I’m Penelope’s sister? I knew Derek was up to something,” she looked like it was all too good to be true, upset almost.

“He didn’t, he probably wanted you to tell me, I mean this all so we can get to know each other,” Spencer shrugs it off, interested in seeing why Derek picked her of all people.

“I guess,” she smiled again, “so what do you do?”

“I work with Penelope, I specialize more in psycho-linguistics and geographical profiling.”

She nods in approval, “I’m a high school English teacher.”

Spencer laughs lightly, “what’s that like?”

“Interesting to say the least, especially in California. Every kid there wants to be on TikTok, no one cares about reading any of the books I ask them too,” she just shakes her head. “I’m worried about the next generation.”

“Me too, it’s almost alarming how many kids are unsubs,” he agrees. She’s so easy to talk to, he’s suddenly not nervous anymore and the waiter is coming to take their order.

He never even opened the menu, “what looks good?” He asks Y/N, nervous and she can tell.

“I think I’m going to have the lobster, let’s go all out?” She shrugged again, both of them feeling more adventurous than normal.

“I’ll have that as well,” Spencer smiled, keeping eye contact with only her as she handed the menus back to him.

They ordered sides and appetizers, stuffed mushrooms and fresh bread, it was amazing. They traded small facts about each other, Spencer noticed a lot of Penelope’s quirks in her, she was very friendly and kind and funny. She loved to tease him and make him laugh, his stomach hurt by the time their lobsters came out.

“I’ve never done this before,” she admits, putting on her bib and holding the claw cracker in one hand.

“Neither have I, but I think it’s fairly simple you just need to apply the correct amount of pressure,” he demonstrates by picking up the crustacean and cracking it at its weakest point before twisting it open.

He’s surprised he did it, so is she as she copies is movements and struggles a bit. “You got it, come on,” he encourages her as she squeezed so hard her hands shake but the shell does eventually crack.

She smiles like she just won the science fair, overly proud as they stare at each other. Enamoured already by just how cute the other was.

“So, what do you do for fun outside being a fed?” She teases between bites.

“I like to spend my time finding new things, I tend to go to the same spots often but I’m always looking for new places. I like the theatre, the old cemetery is nice, I’m excited for the new phantasmagoria to open this fall,” he explains all his interests as he cracks away at his dinner. “I just like to try and appreciate what’s out there, after everything I see.”

“That’s really nice, I’ve always wanted to go to a phantasmagoria actually, science magic is the best kind of magic,” she says it like it’s nothing, almost embarrassed by the interest.

“Me too, I love magic,” Spencer lights up, “I can actually do some magic, hold on.”

He digs his NA chip out of his pocket, showing it to her quickly before making it disappear and reappear behind her ear and she was so smitten, “how the heck?” She asked as she reached for her own ear, shocked at the fact he could do it.

“Do you always keep a coin on you for that?”

He thinks about it for a second, not knowing if he should tell her or not. “No, I keep this on me for support.”

He places it on the table, she picks it up instead and inspects it carefully, “2 years is a really long time, I’m really proud of you.”

He feels like he falls in love with her in that moment, she places the chip back in his hand and smiles, “it’s not easy to admit nor recover from, it’s something you should be really proud of Spencer.”

“Thank you,” he blushes, “um, is there anything else you want to know about me?”

She bites the inside of her lip as she thinks, “actually I was reading an article the other day that said there are a list of personal questions you can ask someone and by the end of all of them you should be in love with the person.”

He thought it was a good opportunity to take a sip of water, upon hearing the word love he realizes it was a mistake. He chokes lightly, coughing as he puts the glass back down and apologizes.

“Love?” He repeats the word.

“I’m going to be real honest here Spencer, I don’t date to get my heartbroken, I date to find my life partner so if you’re not interested in marriage or kids one day tell me now,” she’s very stern about it and he can tell she’s gotten her hopes up and heart broken before.

“I want that too, I just didn’t expect you to be so upfront about it,” he’s honest, because clearly that’s what she wants from him. “What was on the question list?”

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She asks, remembering the questions easily.

“Wow,” he takes a moment to think about it, “alive or dead?”

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs.

“Probably biological Eve,” he comes to the decision rather quickly. “I’ve always been fascinated with the fact all humans can be traced back to one single women. I’m sure she was amazing, it must have been so interesting being the first women on earth.”

“That is the coolest answer anyone has ever given me,” she smiles, “I think I’d be boring and have dinner with Julia Roberts.”

“She’s a very talented actress,” he smiles, recognizing the name from Penelope’s movie nights. “Um, I have an eidetic memory, do you have the list I can just read it once and then we can spit it back and forth easily.”

She looks at him with wide eyes and a growing smile, “yeah hold on.” She takes out her cellphone and pulls up the article before handing it to him.

He reads it quickly and then hands it right back, she was amazed, surely it was a joke? “Would I like to be famous?” He repeats the next question to himself.

“No,” he’s very certain. “I’ve had some encounters with psychopaths who think they are my biggest fans, perfect match or my only rival, and it’s not fun. I’m sure being adored is lovely, but I don’t like the attention if it’s not from a good place.”

“So you want praise but you don’t want a stalker?” She dumbs it down slightly with a smile, “I definitely don’t want to be famous because I don’t like other peoples opinions about me.”

“That’s incredibly fair.”

“Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say?” She asks the next one.

“If it’s for work or my mother, yes,” he answers it completely honestly. “I prefer not to make phone calls, so when I have to make them I typically spend the day before panicking.”

She smiles, “well, if you ever need someone to call tech support and pretend to be you, I am really good on the phone.”

“Like Penelope?”

She nods, “we spent a lot of time talking on the phone when she moved to Virginia for your team.”

“That must have been really hard, I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned you yet?”

“I’m not really her sister,” she smiles, “I wish I was. I met her during a really abusive relationship and I didn’t feel close to my parents anymore, so my old name didn’t feel right either. Penelope and her brothers were the closest thing I had to family, so I took their name after my divorce.”

“That’s beautiful,” his smile is so soft, she wonders if he feels the same about Penelope.

“What do you consider a perfect day?” She moves on before she can pry into his personal life further, just to pry into his personal life further— in another direction.

“Nobody dies.”

“Even the bad guys?” She squints as she asks it, wondering if that was an appropriate topic for the first date.

“I’m not a fan of the prison system, and I’m really not a very big fan of suicide by cop, let alone lethal injection,” he explained. “Just because you’re a murderer or a psychopath doesn’t mean you have to die too, there is rehabilitation and a way to keep them sane and alive while keeping people safe. I just hate when people die.”

“Me too,” her smile is sad, “my perfect day would be having my parents back, I’d like to show them my degree and go out for ice cream and give them another hug.”

“We should have our perfect days back to back,” his voice is low, he was nervous to say it. “Cause then once you bring them back, I stop people from dying and they can stay forever.”

He sees her heartbreak as the tears well in her eyes, “that would be nice.”

“Um,” he clears his throat and then takes a sip of water. “When was the last time you sang to yourself, or someone else?”

“I was singing in the car on the way here,” she smiles with a sniffle, “I sing a lot actually. I’m always humming or tapping as well, if my mind is wandering then it has to make some kind of noise.”

“What is your favourite thing to hum?” He can’t stop himself from asking it, “I personally do the muppets, duh duh nanana, manamanah.”

She laughs again, and a tear slips out as her eyes close. She hurries to wipe it away, “I often find myself doing the teletubbies song, you know; ‘Tinky-Winky, Dipsy,’” she sings the words before humming the tune to match.

“That’s a good one too,” Spencer is really enthusiastic suddenly, the way he would be with Penelope. He was really comfortable. “If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

“Mind, because that’s how you keep a good body. If I can keep the strength and willpower to get up in the mornings and go to work and remember why I love being alive, I’ll be young forever,” she answers like it’s rehearsed.

“I was going to say I’d want my mind too, but the way you said it is a lot more elegant,” he teases. “My mom has Alzheimer's, you were honest about wanting kids and you should know that's genetic. I can also pass on schizophrenia and any other mental illness, like depression, bipolar disorder and most definitely anxiety—

“Spencer,” she reaches across the table for his hand, “breathe, that’s not scary to me. My grandma had it too, I’m not optimal gene-wise either.”

He takes a deep breath, “Sorry.”

“It makes you real to react like that, I don’t mind seeing that side of you. Fake strong men and men who compensate are the worst, in my opinion.”

“Mine too,” he agrees. “I am an anxious worrier, I barely sleep, I’m terrified of the dark, I have PTSD nightmares about my short stay in prison, and I cry a lot when I’m alone.”

“It was a mistake clearly? The prison stay, that is.”

“Yeah,” he nods, moving to the next question. “Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

She laughs through her nose at the switch topic change, “well until I was 19 I thought my husband was going to kill me, then I thought maybe it would be myself, now I’m content dying in my sleep when I'm old.”

“It is ever-changing,” he agrees. “I have died before.”

“What did it feel like?”

She doesn’t ask how, she knows he was sober, she knows he’s been to prison, she knows he’s an agent. It wasn’t a surprise. Penelope even almost died once before, it was an unfortunate part of the job.

“Warm.”

“Like soothing warm, like drinking a hot chocolate, or that uncomfortable warm like being in a hot car?”

“Like a hug.”

Her lips purse, she hums a bit. “Yeah, my answer stays the same.”

“Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.”

“You like to learn,” she smiles again. “You enjoy the mysteries and the horribleness of the world because it keeps you grounded. You love your mom.”

“We love Penelope, our hearts have similar scars, life has been mean to us for no reason,” he adds 3 more for good measure.

“What are you grateful for in life?” She asks the next question.

“I’ve never said this before,” he prefaces, “but found family. If it wasn’t for my team, no matter who was coming and going over the years, anyone who has had my back. Anyone who loves me in any capacity. That’s what I’m grateful for.”

“We’re not even through the first set of questions and I can see why everyone loves you,” she admits. Moving far too fast, doing exactly what Derek wanted from her.

To scare him and see if he still stays.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Spencer stops the questions, “I can’t continue if I can’t tell you this.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Derek and Emily bet me $20 that I couldn’t get someone to fall in love with me, he wanted to set this up and then hit on you in a week and see if you picked me over him, and it feels like a really shitty thing to do to you. It’s making me feel like you’re an object more than a person and I feel really bad about it.”

She just laughs and he has no idea why. “He bet me that I could be as insane as I am with most of my dates and you’d still want to stay with me after a week.”

“You’re not mad?” He worries, by passing her words and the implications of it all.

“No, did you truly mean how you feel?”

“Yes…”

“Then I accept your apology, you’re really kind Spencer. I believe you when you speak, I trust you,” she explains her reasoning and he settles once more. “You’re the most real man I’ve ever met, I think.”

“Thank you,” he smiles again, reaching out for her hand once more, “do you want to finish these questions?”

“Not really,” she smirks, “I think they were wrong about all 35 of them making you fall in love with someone.”

“How so?”

“It only took me 9.”

It’s so absurd they start to laugh, making eye contact, they feel delirious. His hand in hers, she squeezes it lightly and he never wants to let it go.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Sure, did you drive?” She asks.

“No, I walked over.”

She gets up from the table and takes his hand once more, “well, are we going to mine or yours?”

“Are you living with Penelope?”

“Yours it is then,” she teases, bumping his shoulder. This was going to be fun.

Spencer pays for their meal and meets her out front, he gets in her passenger seat and gives her the directions. “Do you want to finish the questions on the drive?” He asks.

“Hmm, well, 11 is a long one, if you want to start telling me your life story in graphic detail? Or we can jump to 12 and you can tell me what super ability you’d like to wake up with?”

“Have you ever watched star trek?”

She’s not expecting that, it makes her take a double-take, she laughs lightly, “Yeah, why?”

“Deanna Troi can sense peoples emotions, I think that would really help with my job,” he explains it easily. “And in times like this.”

“I can just tell you,” she offers, pulling into his apartment complex, she can tell why he walked.

“You don’t have to yet, let it simmer,” he smiles softly, he’s not ready for her to make a decision like loving him when she really doesn’t know everything yet. “Come inside?”

She nods, getting out and taking his hand again for the walk inside. His house is green, and it makes sense. There are door wooden bookshelves and the distant smell of old books and spilled coffee, it’s dusty and old and very Spencer.

“Can I tell you some of my story?” She asks as she kicks her shoes off.

“Absolutely,” he follows her lead, “do you want anything, wine, water?”

“Wine would be nice,” she smiles, following him to the kitchen, “you know my favourite place to talk to someone is in the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“It's the heart of the house,” she smiles slightly, “that's what my mom used to say. This is where all the love happens.”

He loves her and he knows it already, she makes him happy and calm and if she’s in the heart of his house she might as well know all of his own heart.

“I was born in Vegas,” Spencer admits, pushing his life story past his lips before she can stop him or else he wouldn’t.

“My mom was a professor, my dad is an attorney, I have always been really smart and not so athletic, I enjoy chess and reading and I had big thick glasses as a child. My mom participated in a murder and my dad covered it up and that ruined their marriage but they blamed it on her schizophrenia when he left. And then I was left to raise her when she was supposed to be raising me. I cared for her until I turned 13, I left her during the weeks and my aunt would make sure she was okay and I would travel back and forth from CalTech and Vegas on the weekends.”

She can see the exhaustion on his face at just remembering it.

“I got my licence at 16, and then I took her car and it was easier. When I was 18 I put her in a sanatarium and sold her house and took a road trip with my friend to Virginia to go to the academy. He didn’t like it after a week and asked me to go with him to New Orleans and I didn’t— I met my mentor and joined the BAU instead. I was kidnapped and drugged by a man with DID… I died and then his personality switched and Tobias brought me back. I had an addiction to Dilaudid for a few months after, then I got sober after visiting Ethan in New Orleans.”

“Was he good to you?”

“Wonderful,” he smiles, “he was my shoulder to cry on for a long time and I didn’t realize how much I needed him in my recovery until we got a case and I had a reason to see him. I missed a plane and ignored my friends to just be with him. He’s the reason I got clean, not anything else… he told me that I was too special to hate myself, and he was right.”

“He was,” she smiles. “He sounds lovely.”

“And then, the first time I saw my mom after putting her in the sanatarium was because she told parts of our case to a man who lost his daughter, and he did a lot of messed up stuff… like he shot my co-worker. She was another special person to me—“

“I’m so sorry.”

He smiles, “she lived, don’t worry. I loved Elle, she was amazing but the bureau didn’t see that. She was a broken toy to them, we all become one eventually. I miss her a lot.”

She walks into his space and wraps her arms around him, giving him a hug as he rests against the counter, she makes no attempt to move back. Holding him in the heart of the house, close to her own. He holds her back just as tight.

“Maeve, she was another person I loved who got shot, she died. I see her sometimes when I sleep, she visits me when I’m in the most need. I’ll always love her, but she’s gone. The only other woman who claims to have loved me was a psychopath who is dead now too, she framed me for murder, had me drugged, kidnapped my mother and the list goes on and it’s not pretty. In prison she had a lot of bad things happen to me, I have scars that will never heal and a part of me was lost but I’m okay now.”

They have a moment of silence in the middle of their stories, she absorbs it while preparing her own, rubbing his back as her cheek stays pressed to his chest.

“I was born in California, my parents were high school sweethearts, they made me at prom. Learned that from the scrapbooks,” she laughs against his chest, “they were great and then they died when I was 14, it was a mass shooting at a mall, and I went to a foster home. I married the oldest son in the home after he groomed me for a few years… I met Penelope when I was 20 and she helped me get divorced and back on my feet and her brothers protected me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry you relate to loss.”

“It's the one thing that unites us all, really,” Spencer’s voice is barely a whisper. “When you think about it, we’re all born and we all die, the only difference is how we fill the middle.”

They never get to that bottle of wine he mentioned, she pulls back and asks the next question as she drags him to his bedroom. “If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“If I get to have kids.”

She drags him into the room and closes the door, “that was going to be my answer.”

“Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?” He asks as she starts to take her clothes off.

“Sleep beside the love of my life.”

“I’ve never woken up beside the love of my life,” he replies with a soft smile and follows suit, getting undressed down to their underwear before climbing in bed.

“Greatest accomplishment?” She asks as they settle in, laying her cheek on his chest once more.

He takes a moment to think of everything he’s done that has been good, and one really stands out. “there was a case a few years back, we found a bunch of kids who went missing and returned them to their families and gave answers to the families of children who didn’t make it. Days like that feel like a reward.”

“Getting divorced,” she pushes the words out quickly.

“Most valued friendship?” He asks, knowing she doesn’t need to explain herself.

“Penelope.”

“Derek.”

“Most treasured memory?”

“When JJ placed her son in my arms and told me I was his godfather,” his voice is hushed and she knows it’s because he doesn’t want to cry. “It's the closest I’ve gotten to being a father so far.”

“I got an end of the year present when I was first starting out, this girl told me that I was the reason she enjoyed reading again and it was the reason I started teaching, I’ll never forget her. Tammy Brownlee, she graduated in 2009 and we’ve been Facebook friends ever since.”

“Most terrible memory?”

“My parents dying.”

“You’d think mine would be dying right?” He asked, she nodded against his chest, “it was actually being held down by 3 men, getting a sock shoved in my mouth while they beat me.”

She kissed his chest softly, “I’m sorry, I know that feeling. Mind you, he was only 1 man, it’s not a good feeling.”

“If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?”

“If it’s definite; not like a chance or a cancer statistic, if it’s like this is the day you die no ifs and's or butts, then I’d just continue as normal and have 1 really awesome day right before,” she smiles against him. “Make the most of it all.”

“If I was dying a year today, I’d ask you to marry me.”

“Already?” She laughs, thinking he’s kidding.

“You want a nice husband and a kid? I will be good for you as long as I know you, and I’ll have as many kids as you want me to help you make.”

She’s silent as she thinks about it. “What does friendship mean to you?”

“Someone who is there for you even when they don’t want to be, even when it’s hard,” Spencer whispers, thinking about his friends.

“It means hacking the government and voiding a marriage and changing someone's name so they can escape,” Y/N whispers. “don’t tell the feds she did that too.”

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“I crave it and hardly receive it, but I give it out like it’s a sample at costco,” she snickers at the example she gave. “It’s something that people have always admired about me and yet it’s also the thing that scares people away. When I love, I love hard and it’s full and annoying and you will feel suffocated sometimes, but just tell me when and I’ll back off.”

“I don’t know how to ask for what I need,” Spencer whispers. “But I need someone to love me like that.”

“The next one is to alternate 5 good things about each other,” she rests her chin on her hand as she looks up at his face in the darkness, “soft.”

He pauses for a moment, bypassing the easiest one and saying pretty, instead, he says; “you’re honest.”

“You’re very caring,” she replies.

“You see beauty in the world still.”

She smiles at that one, “you make the world beautiful.”

“You are beautiful.”

“And you’re handsome, that’s my 4th,” she keeps track in her head.

“You’re true, to your heart, your promises, everything.”

“And you’re real, you see the world for what it is and you don’t try to change it for the better. You want to make it manageable,” her explanation is the longest one yet. “Was your childhood happy, and do you feel close with your family still?”

“I write to my mom every single day and I drop the notes off weekly, and no,” he doesn’t want to cry, but he feels like he might again. “It was liveable, I made it.”

“Mine was happy until I was 14, then I was alone, I have 1 living aunt and she is strange but I get a card from her every Christmas,” Y/N adds. “I’d like to think your lack of love and my need to fill the world with what I miss from my parents will make a really good family dynamic.”

“Me too.”

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” She asks, “I think I know already, but it’s the next one.”

“She hit me a few years ago because I made her take some medicine, she hit me once when I was a kid too…” he whispers them so that they stay a secret, if they can’t be heard else where then they don’t exist in his mind. “She was a wonderful mother but the worst memories stick out the most now. She’s forgetting everything and all I can remember is how hard it’s been on me, like a bad son.”

“My mom was my best friend, and I still talk to her every day, I bring her and my dad around with me in my necklace,” she pulls the chain on her neck and shows him the little jar. “Mom, Dad, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my mom and dad.”

He holds it in his hand and tips it gently, “nice to meet you.”

“The next one is weird,” she changed the topic again.

“Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "We are both in this room feeling…" Spencer says it verbatim. “We are both feeling understood.”

“We are both hopeful.”

“We are both falling in love,” Spencer ends the feelings with the most prominent one.

“We are,” she agrees with another smile.

“Finish this,” he insists on moving forward, “I wish I had someone I could share…”

“The rest of my life with,” she whispers this time. “If we become besties, what’s something I should know?”

“I think I’ve told you all the important stuff so far,” Spencer thinks hard, pausing for a moment. “My butt is ticklish?”

It makes her giggle, “that is a good one. My sides and the bottom of my feet are ticklish too.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met,” Spencer reads the question back from memory, “don’t be afraid to be too honest.”

“I like that you know how I feel but I hate that you’ve been hurt. I like how you listen to me, and I really like how comfortable you make me feel. I’m almost naked in your bed right now and I know you’d never, ever hurt me, and I haven’t felt that in a really long time.”

“I like that you are indulging me in the dream of becoming a husband and a dad one day… most people say it’ll happen but they never picture it. No one has ever said yeah id have your kids. I like that you know what you want and you’re actively looking for it.”

She moves up so she can hold his face in her hands, “only 7 more. Is it working?”

He nods, “my most embarrassing moment is the time I had a wet dream on the work jet.”

She laughs and then covers her mouth in panic, “I’m sorry that’s not funny.”

“It is, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I was dreaming about kissing this actress we helped, she actually did kiss me in the pool, so I guess it was bound to happen.”

She leans in and presses her lips against his, holding his cheeks in her hands his wrap around her waist as he holds her there. She peppers smaller kisses to his lips before pulling back, “we both cried in front of each other already today, so next question.”

“Tell me what you like about me already?”

Her hands trail his chest and down towards his boxers, he’s hard again from just kissing and she smirks, “this is promising.”

His hand on her back unclips her bra, “I love boobs, not even going to lie. They are my weakness.”

She pushes the straps down and tosses her bra aside, pressing her naked chest against his, she moves on. “What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“Being called insane, saying I'm seeing things, or acting crazy, those are things I don’t like to be told because they make my anxiety worse.”

“Noted,” she smiles. “I talk to myself a lot so get ready for that.”

“Okay,” he smiles, she’s way too easy to be real.

“I don’t want to mention my last husband from here on out, I think if I get married again I will never tell anyone I have a first husband,” she’s firm in her words.

“Technically, Y/N Garcia has never had a husband,” he reminds her.

Her face lights up at the realization, “you’re right.”

“If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?” Spencer asks.

“I regret not screaming at my ex before I disappeared but I wanted to live.”

He hums, understanding how it feels. “There isn’t anyone in specific I’ve wanted to tell this to, but I wanted to kill people when I was in prison. It made me really angry being in there and I let myself dream about killing people who hurt me and then I almost did kill someone.”

“Remember what you said about bad guys?” She whispers a helpful tip, “even the worst people deserve to have a chance at life. And you’re not hardly as bad as the worst people you’ve met.”

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Thank you.”

“This place burns down, what’s one thing you’d run back inside for? Outside of people and animals…” she asks the 3rd last question.

“The book Maeve gave me.”

“The girlfriend who died?” She confirms, and he nods. “If my place with Penelope burned down, I just want my necklace and I don’t take it off that often.”

“The next question is interesting,” Spencer thinks about it, “Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing, and why?”

“I’m glad I wasn’t at the mall with my parents, if I saw them get shot it would hurt more,” she whispers. “I’m sorry you had to see Maeve die like that.”

“In a way, I’m glad I saw Maeve get shot, otherwise I wouldn’t have believed it. She never felt real to me and then she was dead…”

She just hums, “Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it,” she whispers the last question.

“Also, ask your partner to reflect to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen,” Spencer adds in the second half.

“I need to find a place to stay now that I’m here, I don’t want to keep living with Penelope. As much as I love her, I want my own place,” Y/N admits.

“I think I’m in love with this girl that I just met and I don’t know if it’s too soon to ask her to look for a house with me?” Spencer pretends to sigh, “she’s super cool and I think we’d make some nice kids. I would love some advice.”

“Has she told you she loves you yet?” She teases.

Spencer shakes his head. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she replies, leaning in one more time to kiss him.

It’s deeper this time, she breathes him in and rests her forehead against his as she breathes between them.

“How did that work?” She whispers, truly amazed at how easy it was.

He shrugs, “it’s a good questionnaire.”

“You were really honest, your heart is really pure and I would like to get to know you more, but I feel like I know everything?” She shakes her head while she talks, overthinking all the things she has learned, “I don’t even know what could be left?”

“My birthday is October 28th?” He whispers, “we have a lot to discover yet.”

—

When she doesn’t come home in the morning, Penelope knows she’s at Reid’s house. She just doesn’t expect to walk in and find them naked in Reid’s bed, out cold and cuddled together with their clothes all over the room.

It looks like something happened. If only she knew the truth.

“Oh my god?” Penelope’s voice wakes them up and Spencer scrambles to make sure they are covered by his blankets.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N shouts as she wakes up.

“I came to see if you were okay. I expected one of you to be on the couch, I didn’t think it went this good?”

“We just slept in the same bed, I promise,” Spencer turned bright red as he panicked, “we just got to know each other and talked all night, in what we normally sleep in.”

“Uh-huh,” Penelope smirks, “so I take it the 36 questions worked?”

“Perhaps,” Y/N smirks back at her sister.

“Do you use it on many people?”

“No one has made it past the first question,” she smiles at him instead, kissing his cheek as Penelope watches.

“That’s my queue to go, um… yeah, wow, I didn’t see this happening so fast,” Penelope is shocked but in the best way.

She leaves just as fast as she arrived and Y/N settles back into Spencer the second she closes the bedroom door. “You know, if she’s not going to believe us we might as well do it? If you accidentally get me pregnant then we can move fast and no one will question it.”

He laughs, “accidentally, is the key word there.”

“My parents made me at prom after crushing on each other for 2 years… I think knowing each other for 2 days isn’t the weirdest way to start a family?”

“Honestly,” Spencer lets out a sigh and her happy mood drops to a more serious one. “I was a little worried that we’d wake up this morning and you’d change your mind.”

“Why?”

“In the heat of the moment, learning everything about each other and saying I love you was really exhilarating, but I have a hard time believing it,” he admits, “not many people mean it, or stay around after they tell me they love me.”

She cuddles back into the crook of his neck and holds him as tightly as possible, wrapping a leg around him for optimal coverage, “I am staying right here, because I love you, Spencer.”

“Okay,” he whispers. Sounding like he still doesn’t believe it.

“I love you because you’re honest, you want what I want and you’re truly kind. You’re friends with my sister, you’re smart, you would make a great dad, you won't hurt me, you are really nice to cuddle with, and I know you mean it when you say you love me because it’s not a word you use lightly.”

“Are you my girlfriend now?” He wonders aloud, “cause if you really want to have a kid, I have my mom's old wedding ring in my closet, and I would rather be married to you before we do that?”

“Okay,” she whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she hides her face in his neck, “the courthouse is literally just down the road?”

“We can get breakfast together after?” Spencer adds, rubbing her back as they plan, he wasn’t scared anymore.

“Penelope will kill me if she’s not there, can we have her as our witness?” Y/N finally sits up to look at him, pulling away to sit on the bed, still shirtless.

His smile while he tries to keep eye contact with her is so funny, she giggles a little as she hides her nipples behind her palms and cups her boobs.

“I’m pretty sure she’s still in my living room,” Spencer giggles, “Penelope!?”

She comes back in then, “yes?”

“We’re going to the courthouse to get married, wanna come?” Y/N asks with an embarrassed smile.

“Yes!” She cheers, “I’ll go get you a dress!”

And then she’s off again, this time actually leaving Spencer’s apartment. “What if we don’t tell Derek, and let him hit on me next week anyway?

“Then you can say ‘sorry I have a husband,’ and he’ll body slam me to the floor,” Spencer laughs nervously, “the whole team is going to be so pissed they missed my wedding…”

She frowns, “send out a mass text, tell them to meet us at the court house, it’s their day off right?”

“You’re right,” he smiles.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Walking out of the courthouse, hand in hand, she’s in a white dress, he’s in a suit he’d probably wear to work, Penelope is crying and the whole team is waiting outside for them.

At the bottom of the courthouse steps, they all clap and cheer, throwing rice at them like an old movie, Spencer’s smiling so hard his cheeks are burning. Y/N introduces herself to everyone, hugged over and over by everyone she should have met 15 years ago.

Derek is tapping his foot, waiting for Spencer to come and hug him, “what the fuck?” He asks as Spencer steps into his space, wrapping his arms around him and shaking his back and forth.

“Nice try, I’ll give you $20 as a thank you,” Spencer teases as he pulls away. “She is perfect.”

JJ and Will are busy talking to Y/N when he turns around, Mike and Henry not far behind them. Spencer walks over and wraps Henry up in his arms, the kid was growing way too fast, Spencer loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

“Y/N, this is my godson,” Spencer introduces them, “Henry, this is Y/N.”

She gives him a big hug too, “do you have any cousins, Henry?”

“No, but I was 8 when Michael was born,” he smiles, “and I’m getting old enough to be a good babysitter?”

Spencer laughed, messing up Henry’s hair quickly with a smile, “I’m sure by the time you’re a cousin you’ll be great.”

They take a group photo outside, Spencer and Y/N in the middle, everyone was smiling. It was the first time all of them had been in a photo together, the entirety of Spencer’s found family. Now they were Y/N’s too.

She hyphenated her last name, Y/N Garcia-Reid, and their kids would share the same one. He was not only about became a father thanks to Y/N, but Penelope would also become an Aunt once more. It was like a gift that kept on giving, seeing Spencer and Y/N create a little family of their own.

—

She cried her eyes out when she met Diana. She wasn’t expecting to be so emotional, but then Diana was lucid and very welcoming and sweet.

“It’s going to be a pleasure having you as my daughter,” Diana smiles, thinking it was just a nice thing to say.

Y/N cries and holds her so tight Diana almost can’t breathe but she lets her hold her as long as she needs to, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome?”

“I haven’t had someone to call mom since I was 14,” Y/N whispers, “if that’s okay?”

Diana hugs her just a little too tight in response, “you can call me mom whenever you want.”

“Just until you become a grandma,” she whispers again as she pulls back and Diana’s attention snaps to Spencer.

“Are you trying?”

He nods, “we want kids, we’re not getting any younger.”

Diana wraps him up in a hug and he almost falls off his chair at the sheer force of it, she was so happy for him. She knew this was all he’s ever wanted; because he would be good at it, he had all this love in his heart, and he wanted to show his father how easy it is to stay.

“You’re going to be a great dad, Spencer,” she holds his cheeks as she pulls away, “I’m proud of you.”

He cried. It’s all he’s wanted from her, and now he has everything right here in this room.

—

When they find out they’re pregnant after the first try, it’s really funny to them. It was all working so well, it was a little too much for them at first. They were looking for a house, she was looking for a permanent teaching job but Spencer convinced her to wait until after the baby is born to go back.

They name her Morgan Garcia-Reid as a thank you for Derek’s little bet, and before she’s even 6 months old they’re pregnant again. By the time they have 4 kids under 5 they take a break and just enjoy their little family.

To think Derek gave them 7 days to fall in love… and then they lived happily ever after.

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

[fayeimara]

Miya Osamu || Little Delights | First Meeting

SUMMARY. Osamu can't help but be intrigued when his daughter starts bringing home delicious desserts prepared by her best friend's mother.

PAIRING. You x Miya Osamu

GENRE. Fluff <3

WARNINGS. Suggestive content

Haikyuu! Anthology Series | It's Fate When Your Kids Are Friends

OSAMU | First Meeting > Second Date > Third Time's The Charm > Four Is Our Family

Osamu's made it just in time, right as the bell tolls to signal the end of his daughter's second day in her new school year. Standing back as a swarm of kids rush out of the brick building and into the arms of their waiting parents, he takes a moment to breathe and relax. Juggling his burgeoning restaurant with being a single parent isn't an easy job, but he wouldn't trade it for anything.

He stands taller than many of the other adults around him and it's evident his little girl has no problem seeking him out as a black, red, and grey blur races towards him, a thrilled, "Papa!" reaching his ears and splitting his mouth into a wide, happy grin.

His arms are already open in a silent but enthusiastic response as he crouches down and then the bite-sized impact of his daughter is rocking him back on his heels, his reaction overly exaggerated as he pretends to almost fall over from the small force of nature that's all Miya Izumi.

Standing back up, Samu catches sight of another little girl who was trailing behind, wide eyes studying him before shifting to Zumi, his daughter turning back around to wave at her, proclaiming the girl as her 'bestest friend in the whole wide world'. The girl returns Zumi's enthusiastic wave with a quick raise of her small hand before her attention is caught by a pretty young woman, her own wide smile replacing her previously hesitant expression as she's warmly enveloped into welcoming arms with kisses peppered on her cheeks and forehead.

Her delighted giggles reach Osamu and his daughter as they turn around, hand in hand, to walk back to his car, small interaction soon forgotten as his little munchkin lists off the snacks she's looking forward to having on their return to his shop. She won't be able to finish half that list, he bets to himself with a quiet chuckle at his daughter's inherited exuberance for food as he securely buckles her into car.

It's not until they reach his second pride and joy, Onigiri Miya, that he finds the first little surprise tucked away in Izumi's not so empty lunchbox. When he inquires about the remarkably delicious looking set of biscuits he certainly didn't pack for her that morning, his daughter's response is that it's a thank you gift from her bestest friend, Reina, for the lunch she'd shared with the girl on her first day.

Well, a six year old certainly didn't bake these from the looks of it. It's only confirmed by his first taste, the texture and flavour beyond even most consistent home bakers, let alone a young child. Right? But a more pressing thought flags his attention, first.

"Did your friend not have her own lunch?"

"She did! We split because hers wasn't so good, even though her mama put so much love into it. But the treats were so much better so we decided to go halfsies and have best of both!" His daughter giggles with the oblivious sweet innocence of a child.

"And what about today?"

"Mhm. Same. But I liked the chocolate brownies yesterday much much better!"

Samu chuckles at her excitement and can't help but tease his precocious daughter, "Oh, and was it better than papa's food?"

Zumi's eyes widen as she contemplates the question with all the adorable seriousness she can muster, but loyalty must break free and run because her reply is, "Almost! So close, but I love papa's cooking more than anything in the whole wide world."

It seems the whole wide world is the current standard of measurement for first graders, but he appreciates the heartfelt sentiment behind her loving words.

After another moment of consideration, Osamu settles on the thought chewing at him and decides that tomorrow his daughter won't be giving up a portion of his food which she loves so much. No, she'll have double the amount to do with whatever she may please.

So briefly, that he doesn't even ponder on the sudden image, he's reminded of the warm reunion he witnessed between the little girl and the woman who he'd assumed was her nanny, but concludes is probably the girl's young mother. Based on the number of treats Zumi brought back, Samu's certain the woman had to have thoughtfully made extras of these baked goods for her daughter to have more than enough to share with friends and then some.

Well, it's definitely no skin off his back to make his daughter even the slightest bit happier by being able to help her share her savoury little delights with her new bestest friend.

It's on the third day of your daughter's return from her new school year that you're able to confirm that something is indeed amiss. The previous two days, the small portions of her lunch left uneaten were questionable, given her voracious appetite, however, when she returns with the lunch you made for her today still sitting wholly untouched in her cute little lunchbox, you finally sit her down to ask about it.

Her response is far from what you expected, "My friend's papa made extra lunch so we could both have something yummy to eat!"

You press your lips together to hide your amusement as you teasingly inquire, "Oh? Is that so? And I guess that means mama's food isn't so yummy after all."

Her eyes widen in dismay and mouth opens in an immediate denial that you know would be a lie to soothe your feelings. Even at such a young age, your beautiful baby girl is truly a kind and compassionate soul, she would dutifully eat anything you prepared no matter how lacking the meal might be and never utter a word to tell you the obvious truth.

Before she can manage to find the right words to faithfully express how much she loves your cooking, you lean in to kiss her on the forehead and pull back with a laugh, gathering her in your arms for a warm hug. "Oh baby, I'm so sorry I can't make you the food you deserve. But please don't ever feel the need to say otherwise to spare my feeling, okay? You should always be honest about what you like or don't like."

Her little arms find their way around you as she snuggles in, voice soft and words like a wise, old soul when she denies, "But your food is made with so much love mama. Zumi says some people are just better at other things. We both think you make the best yummies."

"The best yummies, hm?" You think about the various baked goods you add in to balance out for the healthy but tasteless lunches you're able to prepare.

They are indeed good, but baking has always been something that comes more naturally to you than cooking. An interesting distinction not many people might accept, but for you the former has always been an effortless science whereas the latter is more of a difficult art.

"Well I'm really glad you like those, but we do need to figure out what to do so you're not picking at your friends' food or going hungry."

She pulls back to send a serious look your way, exclaiming, "But I'm not picking at it, I promise. Zumi said her papa made extra just for me!"

You take a moment to consider her words. She made a similar implication in her earlier statement, that her friend's dad had made extra for them both. What does that mean? Did his daughter ask him to because she was sharing her food with Reina? Or did he somehow grasp the situation and is simply being generous?

A warm burn threatens your cheeks as you consider the awkwardness of accepting such a gesture from a complete stranger. While you appreciate the kindness of Reina's friend and her dad, it still somehow feels like a terrible imposition, as if you've burdened them somehow with your lack of skills to keep your child happily fed.

It's not like you can't cook good, healthy food. You're just painfully aware how bland the food you make can be, unless you spend three times the amount of time as anyone else would need to in order to prepare similar meals. But... studying the smile that's on your daughter's face, you can't help the twinge in your heart that reminds you how much more her happiness is worth than your pride.

You won't assume this will be a daily occurrence and you'll continue to make your daughters lunches so she never goes without, however, it'll be no extra trouble for you to make double the batch of baked goods than usual. After all, you usually account for the fact that she'll be sharing with friends and classmates anyways.

However, you're now determined there will be enough delicious snacks for Reina to share not only around at school, but also some treats for her sweet friend Izumi to take home for her generous parents. Perhaps, you think, it might be prudent to include a short message, thanking the man for his thoughtful effort.

Silent gratitude isn't very much to anyone ~ (So I hope you and your family will accept these.) Thank you for your kindness, Miya-san.

Osamu blinks, unaware of the small smile that curves his lips as he reads the delicate, handwritten note carefully wrapped around one of the cupcakes Izumi brought back home today. There are only three of the original twelve left, apparently, but the one he's just bitten into is as incredible as expected.

If he's correct in his assumption from the note addressed directly to him and included with today's delightful treats, then the little girl's mother has picked up on his small action and is returning the gesture to convey her thanks. The thought is confirmed by his daughter explaining that one of each of the three cupcakes is for their family.

Three for their family? Hm. Well, it's just him and Zumi, but he's sure his brother will be all over the remaining offering when he visits tonight. If there's any left for him that is. Probably won't be, it's really just that good and anyways, he doesn't need Atsumu nosing his way into this simple exchange as it is.

The following day, Friday morning, Samu pens back his own note, assuring the woman that no thanks is necessary. There's no reason for her to express her gratitude over what's really such a simple action for him.

That evening, he and Zumi enjoy some quality mochi delivered in a white, rectangular box with a pretty decently hand-drawn background scene at a spring festival on the cover. Two little girls, one that looks remarkably like his daughter and the other like her best friend, hold hands in the centre of the street dressed in traditional yukata and sharing a box of what he assumes is mochi.

As they much into the chewy treats, he watches and listens as his daughter points out the bright colours she and her friend chose to fill into what was apparently initially a blank canvas for them to colour on. Her delight at having a pink and grey yukata, even if only in a drawing, prompting him to make a mental note about looking into the clothing and any upcoming festivals.

Osamu makes a point of saving the box, childlike scribbles over the simple sketch leaving a warm feeling in his chest and a slightly wider smile gracing his mouth.

The response he receives the Monday evening (from his penned message the Friday before) is enough to prompt a full smirk that, this time, doesn't go unnoticed by him. The woman showed an interesting sense of humour and gracious acceptance with the first cupcake note. Then, a sweet and thoughtful disposition with the drawing included as part of the soft treat for the girls Friday.

But now, Samu sees a challenging firmness in her reply to his easy brush off of her thanks, delicate lines yet again adorning the small card carefully tucked into a pretty red ribbon that's tied around and decorating another white, rectangular box.

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it ~ So please accept this gift without concern.

Sitting inside are four differently coloured, rounded treats that look familiar but he can't place off the top of his head. A quick search identifies the delicate confections as macarons, the colorful delights an absolute wonder as the airy crunch of the top and bottom shells simultaneously give way to a firm filling with the first bite, the sweet flavour almost dissolving on his tongue.

He and Zumi finish the box off in minutes, three of each flavour included to a total of four different flavours, so both he and his daughter each get seconds of their respective favourites.

The next morning, filled with anticipation at what new surprises you might include with the goods you send today, he's fully aware of the grin that stretches his face as he writes out a note of his own for you to receive later this evening.

The macarons were inspiring. Izumi and I definitely won't turn away any gifts you'd like to send our way. I wonder... what other surprises do you have up your sleeve? I sent a little something your way to inspire you too. - M. Osamu

The neatly written note returned, once again, on the back of the small rectangular card you'd last sent, brings a warm smile to your face. The various onigiri that came along with it, apparently with specific instructions communicated from Izumi to Reina that today's additional quantity is set aside for you specifically, stretches the amused curl of your lips into a delighted grin.

You split each of the four different types of rice balls with your daughter, listening to her input on the delicious food as she points out her order of most to least favourite. Although there's not a single one you wouldn't eat on any given day if given the choice, the food is simply divine.

Your note the following day is a compliment to the chef, with a cheeky inquiry as to what deities one must pray to in order to make food like that. His response is a swift rebuttal asking what cruel gods bless some with the skills to cook but others with the skills to bake, ironically echoing your own thoughts from the previous week.

So goes the back and forth for weeks, notes getting cuter, sassier, and more personal as jokes, challenges, and encouragements alike are enclosed among the lunches of two excited little girls, their own bond strengthening with this unique camaraderie between their parents, until you feel the peculiar sense that you know the man on the other end, without ever even having actually met him.

Then, one day, three weeks into the first exchange, you receive a note that makes your heart beat in your throat at the unspoken challenge which raises the stakes of the now familiar routine. It's a simple response to your unassuming request for the onigiri recipes you initially received as the first returned delight, a meal you and Reina have been craving since the first taste.

I can do one better and teach you. xxx-xxx-xxxx. - Osamu

There's no reason to be shy or hesitant, is there? After all, it's a kind offer that will only serve you and Reina well with your future attempts at her lunches. You can't count on Miya Osamu's kindness forever.

Fingers still shaking, you dial the number enclosed within and find the call picked up before the first ring even finishes.

"I wasn't sure ya'd actually call."

Oh, wow, that's a voice to melt hearts alright. You're still smiling as you immediately reply in beat, with the easy familiarity of your shared repartee over the last few weeks, "With an offer like that, how could I not?"

He's quiet for a second and you start to lose your smile, suddenly worrying that perhaps you've acted too familiarly with a man that's all but a stranger and offended him. But his next words, slowly expelled in a lazy but thoughtful drawl, have your heart beating fast for an entirely different reason, "I had a feeling ya'd sound as pretty as ya write."

Now you're the one that's silent but it's entirely because you're at a loss for words, this quietly charming man having stolen them right from the tip of your tongue.

A low chuckle breaks what you realized was actually somehow still a remarkably comfortable silence and then his delicious voice reaches you again, "I hope I didn't scare ya voice away. It'd be a shame now that I've only just heard it."

Okay so he's maybe much more of a flirt than the subtle hints you'd noticed over the notes, but then again, they were delivered through your daughters as messengers so it would be reasonable he would have toned it down. Then again, what kind of man flirts with a woman he's never met previously? He doesn't even know what you look like. Have you captured his interest solely through your mutual correspondence?

You almost snort, catching your thoughts and feeling like you're the main character to some historical romance. Maybe during a world war era. Mutual correspondence. Right. What are you even thinking? He's got you flustered already.

"Funny. I would never have imagined you would sound so pretty from the way you write." You're tempted to arch an eyebrow with your audible smirk but then you remember that it's not like he can see it.

"Ya think my voice is pretty, do ya?" His tone is full with soft satisfaction, "Maybe ya can tell me if it's better in person."

"And here I thought the offer on the table was for learning a delicious recipe."

You swear you hear the smile in his response, "Sounds like yer in either way."

"Sounds like I am." You concede in mock resignation but you're painfully aware that your words and following sigh sound more like a promise.

You and Reina find the charming storefront quite easily from Samu's instructions. It's finally the weekend, several days since your first call with him, and your handwritten notes have now upgraded into convenient, daily text messages.

He's definitely confident and teasing but not quite the overt flirt you briefly considered he might be from a few days ago. In fact, he's more calm and grounded, even if he can be a smooth talker, but you've quickly found that what came across as flirtatious was actually just him being honestly direct. Which is both exciting and flattering enough to make you nervous for this first real meeting today.

A soft chime sounds as you open the door to usher Reina through before following her in yourself. The first thing your eyes land on is a small girl running to your daughter like a heat seeking missile and the two collide in an adorably sweet hug, somehow understanding each other while seemingly talking simultaneously.

With a small smile on your face, you take a moment to survey your surroundings and find your bearings in this unfamiliar space. It's not an overly large area, focusing more on a cozy, comfortable atmosphere emphasized by the deliciously welcoming smell of various foods that make you feel right at home.

Your eyes run over the bar with stools lined against it before you do a double take, finally noticing the dark haired man that's leaning with his arms crossed against a door frame beyond it, watching as you examined his space.

He must be able to tell he's slightly startled you as an amused smile stretches his lips and he dips his head ever so slightly in greeting. "Welcome to Onigiri Miya."

"Thank you for inviting us, Miya-san." You bite your lip at your automatic formality, already certain what he's going to say next.

And he doesn't disappoint, eyebrow arching as he uncrosses his arms and, finally, steadily makes his way towards you, "I already told ya to call me Osamu. Or Samu."

Now you're smiling again because the situation is definitely out of the ordinary, the level of familiarity you feel with a man you're seeing for the first time can only be considered unusual. You take a moment to study him as he stops just before you, tall build with broad shoulders and a handsome face that looks like it belongs on a heartbreaker not a homemaker.

Your fingers itch to push back the locks of his hair peeking out from under his dark cap and falling over on side of his forehead, if only to have an excuse to run your hands through it. But that's definitely not appropriate no matter how comfortable you might already feel with this easygoing man.

"Right... Osamu, then. And of course, you can call me Y/n."

"Yer name and looks suit ya, just like yer voice and handwriting." He's got a small smile on his own face now and you're not sure if he's aware he basically just called you pretty. He doesn't really seem to do this on purpose, from what you've gathered.

You beam at him regardless and volley back, "Well, I can say the same for you too."

And for a brief second, that small smile splits into a quick grin that stutters the already erratic beat of your heart. Oh yes, this man is certifiably lethal in all the best ways.

"I'm happy to hear it. Now, let's sit ya down with the girls while I grab some things."

Izumi has already led Reina to a table by the window and Osamu gestures their way as he moves to lock the door behind where you came in and then moves off to the kitchen behind the bar again.

You notice with a little apprehension that the girls are sitting next to each other on one side of the booth still giddily talking together (although not over each other anymore) about friends and weekend plans and such, but you're not going to be the anxious oddball that separates them for seemingly no reason. Even if you're already sure of the overthinking you'll be doing at the thought of Samu sitting next to you in the booth.

He doesn't seem to think about it at all as he easily slides in, smoothly setting a plate and a tray with cups, glasses and a couple pitchers on the table just as you feel the left side of his body line up against your right. Okay, yeah, because this is totally normal for you. Not.

You hope neither he and especially not either of the kids can tell you're flustered, even as you feel the heat creep up your neck and flirt with your cheeks. Yup, normal day, normal day. Just a regular day with a new friend.

"Here ya go." You just hold yourself back from jumping when he hands you a cup from the tray and then leans over to pour what looks and smells like tea from one of the pitchers. If you're not going crazy, he's pressed even more against you for those long seconds, completely in your space even if it's not unwelcome.

He either knows exactly what he's doing or he's just one of those people that's never paid mind to polite social norms and rules of conduct that many prefer. While you're calming yourself down, he's already poured the girls juice from the second pitcher into their glasses and set out quarter plates in front of everyone.

You finally focus enough to take in the still steaming gyoza on the plate he'd placed down in the middle with confusion and ask, "I thought we would be making onigiri and eating it for lunch?"

"Of course, but I couldn't put ya to work on an empty stomach."

"Mhm." You give him a dubious look, you might have mentioned your early breakfast in one of your texts to him this morning, but you have a feeling that this is also an effort to make you and Reina feel comfortable in this space together instead of getting right into the cooking lessons planned for the day.

It's an incredibly thoughtful effort and that warm flush is threatening you again so you choose to tease him and deflect instead, "Somehow, I feel it's more about your empty stomach but okay, let's go with your version instead."

You lose the fight with the flush and flutters when he chuckles at your sassy retort, especially since you literally feel the vibrations melt from his body and into yours with the way he's still somewhat pressed into you. Does the man not have enough space in his own booth? Actually... you notice you can move closer to the window yourself since there's quite a bit of space on your side too but, then again, it would be a little obvious to shift now.

The girls pick up the fried dumplings by hand with happy exclamations as they bite right into theirs, you and Osamu following suit but not before placing another two on the plates in front of each of them and then splitting the remaining ones between you.

With a dip into the soy and vinegar sauce (chili excluded for the girls), you quickly bite into the first one and savour the sudden burst of flavour in your mouth. Oh wow, yes, this is exactly what your cooking is missing. This addictive, tasteful quality that makes you want multiple helpings of whatever's being served.

With a glance from the corner of your eye to the right, you meet Osamu's eyes studying your reaction and decide to ask the question on your mind, "You made these yourself right?"

"I did."

"Okay, they're hands down the best gyoza I've ever had." You compliment him genuinely before giving in to the urge to  tease him yet again because the flutters are back, if they ever even left, and you can't have him knowing just how much he affects you, "But who ever heard of serving gyoza in an onigiri shop?"

He must catch the light, teasing tone because he just smirks and throws right back, "Well if they're as good as ya say, maybe I should expand the menu."

"Oh no, don't do that!" You laugh with wide eyes, "Then Reina and I will never find space when we try to come back here during regular hours! Actually, I'm sure you're already always packed, hm?"

"Some days and times less than others, but there will always be space for the two of ya whenever ya want to visit again."

Oh yeah, it's a losing battle, the flutters are a full on tsunami of feelings now. Just push it away and chill. But then he adds, "And I can teach ya this recipe too. Anytime there's something ya like or want to try, just let me know. I'm sure we can make an amazing cook outta ya yet."

Your mouth drops open followed by your blurted question, "Why are you helping me so much? I'm sure this is a lot of time and effort for you too."

You hear the girls' conversation pause as they pick up on some subtle change in either your body language or demeanour, but Osamu's calm eyes just meet your wide ones, his lips sliding into a soft smile, as he simply answers, "Because I like ya."

You feel like you're back in grade school because you want to ask if he means that he 'like' likes you or just... likes you. But there's no way you're going to ask that question, not only because it feels a bit asinine but because that's not a conversation to start in front of both of your daughters.

You look over to the girls who are watching with beaming smiles, maybe happy their parents are good friends just like the two of them, and you return their wide grins with a reassuring one of your own before looking back into steady grey eyes. "Well, I really appreciate your help. Thank you, Osamu."

"I'd say no thanks needed, but I've been down that road before." Another quick, heart-stopping grin graces his face, this one almost as roguish as his tone is playful. He's definitely referring to your initial correspondence when you made a firm point against his initial brush off, as if his actions in making extra lunch for your daughter to enjoy wasn't incredibly thoughtful and certainly out of his way.

"Well you certainly catch on quick. Let's just hope I can say the same." Your playful smile turns into a grimace at the thought of how difficult it might be to actually improve your skills. Maybe it's just a question of talent? Maybe you're just never going to be able to reproduce food like him.

But he glances over to catch your frown just in time and reassures, "I know what I'm doing. Soon enough, you will too. Just say you'll keep supplying me and Zumi with yer baking every once in a while when ya don't need us anymore."

You know he's probably joking with the last part but you hadn't planned on stopping. You love to share the goodies you bake with the people in your and Reina's life, it makes the two of you pretty happy so you're sure Izumi and Osamu will be able continue enjoying your baked goods to their heart's content.

"Izumi will definitely get her share of sweets and snacks every day." You send a smile her way when she hears you and bounces excitedly in her seat but then you force yourself to drop it and face Osamu with a challenging look instead, "But you... well, I guess we'll have to wait and if you're as good as you say and maybe then you can get some too."

He places a closed hand to his chest as if he's been struck, the girls laughing at his overdramatic reaction, but his widening smile gives him away. You look at each other for a suspended moment, with shared amusement but also the teasing heat of something else reflected in his achromatic eyes, which makes you certain he picked up on the unintended double entendre in your words.

"Sounds like a promise." Then with an arched eyebrow at the empty plates and cups in front of everyone, Samu asks, "So shall we get started?"

You agree, helping him clean up the table and he takes the opportunity to help you and Reina familiarize yourselves with the kitchen. The rest of the afternoon is spent in an equally easy cadence as he does indeed walk you through the steps of making his recipes, flavours included.

He starts with the simplest option, yaki onigiri, which is just fried rice shaped in a triangle or oval, and then demonstrates how to make and add a few of your and Reina's favourite fillings in to change and enhance the flavour. The girls enjoy making their own mini rice balls alongside the two of you and the time flies until you're all back at the table and having the onigiri you've just made for lunch.

You can't deny there's an improvement already but your little rice balls are still nowhere near the level of skill and flavour of Osamu's, even though he and the girls all assure you that you've done a great job. You accept their compliments with a smile and the determination to keep at it on your own time until you improve even further because Reina deserves better than even this.

By the time you finish eating, the girls are unsurprisingly tired out and choose to stay at the table to watch a Disney movie with Izumi's iPad. You can't help but smile in amusement while watching Osamu grab the thing from behind the bar, tapping away on the clunky looking device which is perfect for Izumi with a thick, pink rubber cover protecting it from grade-schooler level damage.

After the movie's been set up for the two worn out little munchkins, you and Osamu head back into the kitchen for him to show you how to make the gyoza and the next hour slips away with more teasing jokes, increasingly heated looks, and slightly bolder touches.

You can close your eyes and now know the feel of Osamu's hands on yours, demonstrating how to properly fold and pleat the wrappers. You can still feel the heat of his chest brush your back from when he leaned around you to pick up an empty bowl to place in the sink, and you're pondering on what feels like a heated brand on your hip where he lightly curved one hand to shift you over.

You can't deny your attraction to the man, a slow fall that you should have seen coming from the excitement of receiving his words every day until you were eagerly expecting the notes, to this first meeting where he's everything you expected from reading between his lines and even more.

Since the girls are pretty much full, you and Osamu clean off the new batch of gyoza between the both of you - him more than you, which you tease him about again. All the while, you're panicking about this new realization of your feelings, given that you're seriously crushing on a man who might only mean to help as a newfound friend and maybe you're the one reading too much into his interactions.

It's not until you've helped him clean up, collected the girls, and are watching him lock up the shop that you get some semblance of an answer.

"Thank you again Osamu. This was not only very instructive but Reina and I had a great time today."

He's holding Izumi's small hand in his, similar to Reina's in yours, and his other hand stretches up to rub at the back of his head, his arm bent at the elbow. When he speaks, it's not a direct response to your gratitude but a question instead, sounding somewhat unsure himself for the first time today, "How about next time we have a date that's more fun than instructive?"

Your jaw almost drops in surprise but you quickly collect yourself because he's still looking a little worried, maybe because he thinks he's overstepping by calling this a date or maybe because he's not sure you'll want another one even if you do accept that.

Your smile is quick to light up your face and, with a light squeeze from Reina's hand to yours accompanied by her and Izumi's giggles, you happily reply, "Just let me know when and where, and it's a date."

He grins again, the third time today your heart stops at what you're sure is usually a rarer sight since bodies aren't always dropping to the ground around him (that you've heard of). "I think I might already have something in mind."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, but let me look into it and get back to ya."

"Sounds like a promise."

With your final reply, a borrowed echo of his words to serve as a temporary goodbye, you and Reina split away from Izumi and Osamu. Heading for your car with once last look behind you, you're pleasantly unsurprised to find a flash of gunmetal grey also glancing back your way. Later that night, finished with your and Reina's joint skincare routine and having tucked her into bed, you find the expected message waiting for you.

A/N: Okay wow I had SO much fun with this one! I hope you all do too <3 It's not triple edited per usual so please do let me know if you catch any errors or issues. No promises but probably dropping Atsumu’s First Meeting next ;)

Taglist: @yatoatyourservice, @crayonwriting

© 2021 fayeimara. All rights reserved. Please do not repost, modify, or claim as yours.

#miya osamu #osamu x you #osamu x reader #osamu x y/n #haikyuu osamu #osamu scenarios #osamu fluff #miya osamu scenarios #hq osamu #miya osamu fluff #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu osamu x reader #haikyuu miya osamu #osamu fic #miya osamu fic #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu fic #osamu series #miya osamu series #osamu imagines #it's fate when series #it's fate when haikyuu series #haikyuu series #it's fate when #osamu miya

[disloopy]

𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐞

i wanted to write a college au but i was also horny so this came into existence.

tendou satori

word count: 6199

genre: smut but with a plot??

It was hard to study with your parents constantly bickering in the living room downstairs. Ever since you moved back in with them, you've found it hard to concentrate on virtually anything besides their frequent, yet petty, arguments. Sometimes you'd stay at college late into the evenings under the guise of classes and assignments but really you just hated being around them. The stress of school was already a mounting threat without the emotional toll of your parents' nearly shattered relationship.

Scraping your chair back as you stood up, you decided you'd had enough. You shoved your textbooks, notebooks, and some random clothing articles from the top of your drawer into a bag and ran down the stairs. Your mother twisted her body around to face you from the couch, an eyebrow raised.

"Where are you going, young lady?" 

You didn't look at her in the process of yanking on your shoes. "I'm going to Sam's house or am I not even allowed to visit her without you breathing down my neck?" you asked sharply, feeling your heart hammer in your chest. You were fed up. "I'm twenty and under no obligation to listen to the two of you arguing about whatever movie you want to watch just because you don't have the cajones to discuss the real issue!"

With finality, you slammed the door shut behind you and hopped onto your bike, pedaling as fast as legally possible out of the neighborhood. You always knew that the main reason your parents had urged you to move back in with them was to fill the empty void their failed marriage left in the house. At first, even you were convinced that your presence would revitalize their marriage and they'd remember why they loved each other from the start.

However, their own child wasn't enough to give them a reason to put aside their differences and love each other for what they were - a family; a family, you knew, should be willing to sacrifice a part of their individual lives for each other, that's what it meant to be married.

But your parents weren't even willing to confront the problem -- not being in love with each other anymore -- much less work it out. At your age, you were aware of the fact that love wasn't all a marriage needed, there was responsibility and sacrifice and with a little understanding, the love could be rekindled, not just once but multiple times throughout the life spent together. The last thing you'd want was for them to separate and you were quite certain that with a little communication this hellish nightmare could be put past them. They were immature, you concluded. Your parents wanted to ignore it altogether, which would only leave them stumped at this obstacle, growing angrier with each bland dinner and mismatched grocery.

You couldn't take it anymore. Stopping your bike at a nearby convenience store to pick up a few snacks, you texted your boyfriend, Tendo. He was usually around, and usually free -- plus, he lived in a dorm all by himself. It was the perfect escape from your exhausting household. Without waiting for a reply, you journeyed across a few streets to get to the college residence and parked your bike anywhere. It wasn't worth enough to get stolen and even if some desperate thief decided to have some fun, it would only serve as an excuse for your parents to finally get you a car.

After the long and silent elevator ride which seemed to compress you on all sides, you arrive at the seventh floor and felt your shoulders relax almost immediately. You'd been here so many times it was like a second home to you. Tendo's place always gave you the relief you wanted after a tiresome day of school, or your parents, or both.

Struggling to keep the strap of your heavy bag filled with books, clothes, and food on your shoulder, you lightly knocked on the front door. There were sounds of incomprehensible yelling and laughter coming from inside which you thought was strange but not enough to question it.

When there was no answer and you were fed up with waiting, you decided to try the knob which was surprisingly unlocked. So, you entered the house and called out loudly, "Tendo? It's Y/N". Not even a step later, a strong scent of weed hit your nose directly and you winced.

"Y/N?" said a voice, followed by Tendo rolling back in a computer chair, tugging his headset to his neck with the hand that wasn't latched onto the controller, his eyes wide in pleasant surprise. 

"Hey," you said quietly, smiling at the sight of him. "I texted you . . ."

"Oh, sorry. I was in a game so I didn't check my phone," Tendo murmured, throwing a distracted glance at his phone on the couch before immediately returning his attention to the screen, his headset back on his ears. "I SAID COVER ME!" 

"He's been yelling all match," someone said and you startled, looking back at the couch to see one of Tendo's friends, Semi, sitting cross-legged on the couch, a hoodie covering most of his head and a bong tucked between his thighs. It was unusual for Tendo to have friends over. Even at school, he rarely sat with a large group of friends for long. On weekends, it was mostly just you and him when it could be.

"I swear I'm playing with 11 year olds," Tendo remarked as the screen flashed red, signaling his team's failure. He spun around in his chair and glanced between you and Semi. "Sit down, Y/N, what the fuck. Semi got kicked out of his parents house so he's gonna be here for a while."

You widened your eyes. "You got kicked out?"

The ashy-blonde haired boy nodded, seeming casual as he fiddled with the bong. "They caught me smoking in the basement and said they didn't want me back till I quit," he explained with a shrug. "I miss my drum set but I'd rather be free to smoke, if I'm being honest."

Tendo shook his head, amused. "Get a fucking job, Semi -- then you can pay for half of this place and we can live together."

"Really?" Semi's eyes lit up and he seemed attentive for the first time that night. "I totally should, huh? I can work at some government institute, you know? They'll see that I'm smart since I major in political science . . ." 

"Tendo, can I get in the shower?" you asked and Tendo nodded of course. As you were about to disappear down the hall before turning around and feeling blush creep onto your cheeks when Tendo gave you a questioning look. "Um . . . I also . . . Wanted to stay here for a bit. My parents are just really . . ."

"You can!" Tendo said with an enthusiasm that made your heart jump with pleasure. "It'll be fun with the three of us. I'm sorry about your parents though." 

The shower was warm and almost therapeutic with the muffled sounds of Tendo's frustration with his team and Semi teasing him about it. You even sat down on the porcelain for a bit, the soothing water sprinkling down on your bare body. When you had finally decided to come out, you found that Semi was eating the snacks you'd brought along with you. Although you were initially doubtful of him staying over with you and Tendo, you quickly grew more open about it. He was normally quiet and serious, but the weed seemed to open him up to being actually friendly and talkative, not failing to make you laugh several times that evening.

"Yo, if you make my girl laugh that much I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," Tendo said, throwing a cheeto at Semi's head. 

You eventually fell asleep on the couch, Tendo and Semi's voice almost serving as a lullaby. You'd rather hear their weed-inspired symposium in your sleepy stupors than the sound of your parents arguing. Some time that night, unknown to the dizzy you, Tendo had hauled you into his arms and transferred you to the warm security of his bed, wrapping his covers around you, and then wrapping his arms around you. 

The next morning, Semi was already gone for an 8am class. Despite sharing Tendo's major, he had registered very late and got the worst schedule a student could ask for. You and Tendo, however, were able to fool around in the bathroom (no, not like that. Tendo spit toothpaste on you), and eat lazy bowls of cereal before heading out, walking under the warm morning sun to get to campus.

When you'd arrived at your own class, Tendo let you know he'd wait for you at the college center after class. You checked your phone while the professor was setting up his stuff. Disappointment settled in your chest at the realization that your parents hadn't bothered to check up on you. You hadn't given them the heads-up that you would be staying over at "Sam's" house and although you declared that you weren't under their jurisdiction, you half-expected a "should we wait up for you?" text from either parent.

You tried to push your dejectedness and self-pity in order to pay attention to your lecture. The anger formed into a kind of resistance, telling you to stay as contactless from them as possible, waiting for one of them to care about your absence, or at least notice.

After class, you stopped by the vending machine to buy Tendo and yourself two bottles of juice before walking with your head down to the college center. You didn't want to see any of your friends or anyone for that matter. You wanted to be alone . . . With Tendo. He knew how to give you the reassurance and comfort you needed without uttering a single word. Sometimes you wondered if he was even aware of the effect he had on you. Did he know how his mere presence could reduce your anxiety? The man was like a remedy.

You spotted Tendo slumped on one of the couches, thumbs tapping away on his phone and you were almost certain he was engaged in a game of COD mobile. Then he seemed to notice you and he lifted his bright red-haired head up, shoving his phone in his pocket.

"Damn bay-bee!" Tendo whistled and you rolled your eyes as an instant reaction to his typical attention-drawing behaviour. "Hot girl alert," he announced, grinning at you.

"Shut up!" you yelled, chucking a juice bottle at him, which he caught with extraneous ease. You would've been surprised if you weren't already familiar with the fact that he, along with Semi, were on the volleyball team of a prestigious high school. He never failed to remind you and always talked about a mysterious "best friend" named Ushijima who he strongly believed would be famous one day.

Grateful that no one was staring at you two anymore, you collapsed next to Tendo, resting your head on his shoulder. He had produced his phone once again and you realized he had been texting Semi. You didn't want to intrude on his messages but you couldn't help catch parts of the conversation. He was going out drinking with Semi later because they had both received excellent grades on one of their tests. This also didn't come as a surprise because although you've never actually seen Tendo studying, he always did well on his tests.

Tendo turned to you. "You can go ahead back to my place," he suggested, twirling his dorm keys around his finger as he handed them to you. You gave him a small smile when he left you with a parting kiss on the lips as you separated for your next class.

You didn't see him again before leaving campus to return to Tendo's house. As you walked, you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. Why hadn't Tendo ask you to join him? You shook your head, why were you even thinking of such a thing when you knew you hated drinking? But some uncomfortable tug in your chest left you questioning whether Tendo even wanted you at his place. Maybe he had accepted to be polite, or because he felt sorry for you . . . or because he didn't want to say no to you in front of Semi.

The biting thoughts bounced around your head, a reminder that Tendo loved you popping up every now and then to shoot those thoughts into a corner but not doing much to quell your worries.

You spent your evening studying, getting excited only at the occasional text from Tendo, making sure you got home fine, or that you knew you could eat anything in his fridge, or sleep in his bed if you were tired, or play on his PlayStation if you were bored. You did neither of those things, not touching a single thing in his kitchen even while your poor stomach cried with hungry grumbles.

You felt sick to your stomach, opting to switch on the television for background noise as you hugged your knees on the couch. There was an aching fear building up inside of you, fear that you were as unwanted to your boyfriend as you were to your own parents. You knew you shouldn't have been insecure, he'd always been there for you and never gave you a reason to doubt him.

But it had been quite a while since he'd last told that he loved you, sincerely, from the bottom of his heart. A lot could change within a person in that sort of time. And the last time the two of you had sex or even really made out was several months ago before you moved in with your parents. You could blame that on the chaos of school, both of you being in your second-years with exams and pressure to find jobs keeping your heads under water.

Nonetheless, the fear of Tendo falling out of love with you the same way your father fell out of love with your mother still existed and was still very real. You could always untangle this very confusing frustration with Tendo, he'd never shied away from important conversations. However, despite the many insecurities he'd helped you through, this just wasn't one you wanted him to hear.

And maybe you were like your parents in that way . . .

You dropped your head into your lap, feeling the burn of tears in your eyes, your chest tightening under the pressure of the worries you knew had no foundations but still pushed their way into your system. Eventually, your eyes had drooped and your brain was shifting in and out of focus with the screen before you.

Before you could really fall asleep though, you heard the sound of the door opening and Tendo's voice informing you of his presence. You hummed in response and Tendo furrowed his brows at you, jumping in next to you on the couch. You could tell he was still a little delirious from drinking but not enough to turn you away from him, as you usually did when he got completely wasted.

"Y/N, I went to the corner store on the way back and got you the cake you said you really liked," Tendo mumbled, putting his arms around you and pulling you closer. You wanted the cake, sure, but to be truthful, you wanted him more than anything.

"I just wanna fuck," you blurted out and Tendo's head instantly snapped up to look at you, a lazy grin pulling at the edges of his lips.

"Uh? You wanna what?"

You blushed, tugging your knees to your chest but Tendo's hands were already on them, pulling them apart. "I said I wanna fuck," you murmur.

"That's right, baby," said Tendo, settling himself between your thighs as he licked his lips. "I knew what you said, I wanted to hear you say it again."

"I got it, stupid," you told him, curling your fingers around the shoulders of Tendo's shirt and bringing his chest to yours before connecting your lips. The effect was immediate. You simultaneously relaxed and tensed up underneath the weight of his body, completely winded by the effortlessness with which his tongue moved past your lips and pressed to your own.

"You're right, I deserve this," Tendo breathed against your lips, a hand going to your thigh and guiding your leg around his waist. You hadn't said that but didn't care enough to point it out. "I can't call it a treat without wrecking this pretty body of yours." Your heart fluttered with his words and you watched him trail his lips down your chin, jaw, and neck toward the now exposed skin of your chest as he hooked a finger over the collar of your sweater and forced it down.

You shut your eyes, drowning in the anxious ecstasy of what was to come, the outcome of all this; him inside of you, filling you up, and fighting off all your worries with each sway of his hips against yours.

His teeth grazed against your skin and you pressed your lips together, knowing it was going to be followed by a bite and it did. Tendo bit and tugged at your sensitive skin, earning a pained gasp from your lips before smoothing over the sting with his tongue. It hurt but in that good way you never wanted it to stop, not until every inch of your body was covered in marks from him and only him.

Tendo had always liked to take his time. Even now, with you practically squirming and wordlessly begging for him. You could tell by the way he rubbed the seam of his jeans right against the very spot you craved him most, knocking the air out of your lungs and making your hips snap up against his, which caused you both to moan (Tendo's turned into choked laughter). He usually opted to wear sweatpants or, at best, trousers, but the roughness of his jeans really did amplify the feeling and although it made you throb almost everywhere, you were starting to get impatient.

"Jinx," Tendo groaned, dropping his head into the crook of your neck as your fingernails raked through his messy hair.

"Shut up, Tendo, just . . . Fuck . . . Get inside already," you said between shallow breaths. Tendo was already doing that, wedging a hand between both your bodies to unbutton his jeans. But between making jokes of your desperation and dry-humping you right on his couch, Tendo (and you) failed to realize that you had company.

The sound of the door swinging open almost completely shattered your preoccupation with each other. Tendo dragged himself off you and onto his knees while you propped yourself up, slightly embarrassed but more so disappointed when Semi walked into the living room, squinting at the two of you.

"Oh," he said, realizing what he had interrupted with a nod. High Semi was a lot different than this not-very-drunk or just-sober-enough Semi, who was stoic and didn't laugh the awkwardness off like you expected. "S-sorry about that," he stuttered and made to head towards his own room.

Tendo turned back to you with a smile that told you he didn't mind continuing what you two had already started. He didn't mind . . . But that probably didn't mean he wanted to. Neither did you with Semi in the next room. The heavy feeling from earlier took residence in your stomach once more, unwarranted and so quick you felt tears spring to your eyes.

Pushing Tendo off, you ran to his room in order to cry without his prying eyes, kind as they were. But you knew you wouldn't have the room for very long. The five minutes you really were alone, you were quite sure Tendo was trying to give you space or wonder what he'd done wrong. Then the door opened and he stepped in and you buried your head in your hands.

"Y/N, what the fuck is up with you?" He asked, but in a gentle tone before you felt his hand on your back, rubbing soothingly. "Why are you crying, hm? Look at me." Tendo tugged on your forearm and practically forced your head up. You stared at him through tear-blurry vision.

"Why didn't you invite me to come with you and Semi?" You stuttered dumbly and Tendo blinked in surprise.

"I-I didn't think you'd want to come," he answered with a shrug and a look of guilt marred the fond carelessness of his face. "Usually you say no . . . I'm sorry, I should've asked."

You shook your head quickly and realized you were doing exactly what you hated about your parents: avoiding the problem. But how could you not avoid the problem when the problem was questioning his love for you? Maybe you were the immature one, thinking talking about those things was so simple. It wasn't.

So you just said, "Sorry, I've been having a rough week . . . "

Tendo nodded, understanding. "Do you want Semi out of here?"

"W-What? No, no, no," you said quickly, wiping your wet eyes. "He needs somewhere to stay, I-I don't mind. It's mostly just . . . " you braced yourself to finally voice your fear out loud. Tendo's eyes on you, full of concern and attention. "I'm sick of my parents," you ended up saying and then cringed with your whole body.

"They fighting again?" Tendo asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and maneuvering the two of you against the bed frame to lean back. You leaned into his chest and relaxed in the comforting scent of him.

"They haven't checked up on me," you murmured, feeling slightly embarrassed for needing your parents attention this much. Tendo just stroked his fingers through your hair, intently listening. "I didn't tell them I'd be away from home and I usually never am. But they haven't even texted me to ask. I just feel like I'm not wanted there."

"They're probably just lost in their own issues to even think about dealing with you," Tendo said and he seemed to have the simplest answers to the complicated worries in your heart. "Stay here with me, just until they really get worried. Besides you're wanted here all the time."

You lifted your head and smiled. "Thanks Tendo, I-I love you," you mumbled shyly and Tendo grinned, shaking his head in amusement.

"I love you too," he replied without hesitating. The two of you soon fell asleep, Tendo changing out of his jeans first and yelling at you to get in your pajamas, before throwing a shirt at your head. You were too tired to get up now and Tendo knew that but it didn't stop him from trying. He gave up shortly and muttered something about you being a stubborn little bitch before sinking into the mattress next to you and shutting off the lights.

The next week flew by just like that. You were getting quite used to living with Tendo and he seemed to be happy with that. Most days were just busy with school and assignments, the slower days were spent in wondering if Semi would be home now or then to gauge how long the two of you had alone. But in that worry itself, you and Tendo would miss the opportunity Semi seemed to have intentionally been giving you each time. Dinners were nice since the three of you got along very well. Tendo would usually make the jokes, vulgar or downright shocking, causing you to almost choke up your food and Semi to roll his eyes yet smirk all the same.

Semi had found a job as a male receptionist at some package delivering company, which was a grounds for all three of you to celebrate. Tendo explained that they probably only wanted Semi because he was eye-candy  for anyone entering the building. You agreed that Semi was very pretty and Tendo pouted at you.

Friday night, the bong was reintroduced and you surrendered to the thought of really forgetting all your stress and just getting high. Which you did. And it was really relieving. So the next day, you decided it couldn't hurt to have another session. Semi had gone off to work and he wouldn't be back till very late, which gave you and Tendo time to smoke a little and fuck a lot.

But neither of you were really in the mood that evening and you could tell by the lack of foreplay Tendo usually invested in before putting it inside. He was out of focus and so were you, lying in his bed and occasionally moaning when he hit the right spot.

And when he'd pulled out so quick, you couldn't help lifting your head in confusion. "T-Tendo, what—" but the question was cut off with warm liquid spraying over your bare chest and splashing onto your mouth, droplets almost hitting your eyes before you shut them.

"Ah shit!" Tendo gasped, giggling breathlessly. "I'm s-sorry about that. I just wanted to cum on your tits."

"I'm gonna get pink-eye!" You complained, wiping your eyes and mouth with the back of your hand.

"Don't be dramatic," he said dismissively, hopping off the bed and disappearing into the closet. You blinked, heavy breaths living your lips and slightly disoriented. But Tendo had really just . . . Done that, without bothering to ask if you'd finished (he never really asked because it was quite obvious you had every time, but not tonight).

Before the worthlessness could settle in, a towel was thrown directly at your face and now you were just . . . Really angry. Your own boyfriend seemed to have used you and discarded you, you thought, furiously wiping yourself down with the towel and watching Tendo from the corner of your eye light up a joint and take a deep drag from it.

You slipped your shirt back over your bare chest and stared down at your lap as he breathed out, smoke filling the air and your nose. You just wanted to turn around and sleep.

"Y/N," said Tendo, prompting you to glance up at him. You shifted your gaze to him and saw that he was dangling a pair of handcuffs in one hand and a collar with a chain attached to it in another. Tendo grinned lazily, the joint hanging from his lips as he tossed both on the bed, you gazing at them in wonder.

"Do you wanna try these?" He asked, setting the joint aside and crawling onto the bed. "I ordered them a while ago, they're cheap as fuck but if we like them — if you like them — we can get something proper."

You licked your lips, excitement rising in your stomach. "I . . . Um . . . Yes! I'd like to try . . ."

"That's my girl," said Tendo eagerly, clicking the collar around your neck with a sly smile. "You look pretty fucking hot, if I'm being honest." He turned your head to the side so you could see yourself in the mirror. You couldn't help but agree with your boyfriend. The presence of the collar on your throat did wonderful things to your conscious.

Then there was a rough tug on the chain, squeezing the collar around your neck, and a whimper tumbled past your lips as Tendo forced you to face him. Tendo's eyes widened in wicked surprise as he stared at you and felt yourself blushing.

"This chain comes in handy then, I bet," he muttered with a smile.

Once your shirt was off and the handcuffs were locked around your wrists, both behind your back, Tendo pushed you to the ground in front of him and swung his feet off the bed. He reached one of his large hands towards you, fingers immediately tangling in your hair as you made quick work of him. The constant yanking on your hair and the choked grunts Tendo made was really adding to the rush of it all. Especially when he pushed your head down and forced himself deeper into your throat. 

"Take all of my cock," he hissed out the order, the chain of your collar wrapped around his free hand, tugging at it every now and then when he wanted you to look at him. You accepted every  praise that followed, tears forming at the edge of your vision with each thrust. "You look so pretty like this, baby. God, I love face-fucking you . . . You're so good . . . You're the best." 

After he'd shuddered and his cock twitched, sending a warm stream of cum down your throat, Tendo didn't stop there. He pulled the chain up, your head rising with it as the collar squeezed your neck. "Let me see," he whispered, gently gripping your jaw as you opened your mouth, feeling the liquid drip down your chin. "Good girl. Now swallow." The instruction was followed by the harsh slap of his palm against your ass, prompting you to obey.

"Ah!" you cried out, biting your lip. "Y-Yes, sir." 

Tendo smirked and yanked the chain again, bringing your lips down upon his and the saltiness from earlier was wiped away as he sucked on your lips, grasping your hips and sitting you down on top of him where you could feel his cock pressing right against your entrance. 

"Tell me what you want, baby," Tendo groaned as you moved your hips against him, your head buried in his neck along with your lips grazing his warm skin. Your wrists were sore and aching and all you wanted was to latch onto him but Tendo didn't seem to want to take them off just yet. 

"Fuck me," you whispered against his ear.

Tendo didn't waste time, moving back so he was lying down on the bed, shirt off and you, on top of him, wanted to touch the tanned skin of his bare chest so bad. He watched your every moment with a dizzying intrigue, allowing you to fuck yourself on his cock while his fingers pressed bruises into your hips. 

"Just like that, Y/N," he grunted through a clenched jaw, pushing you all the way down as he lifted his own hips and thrust up into you. 

"Tendo!" You gasped, your head falling back, eyes shut tightly as the pain and pleasure shot up your body, releasing breathless moans from the base of your throat. "Fuck . . ."

Tendo grinned. "You ride me so well, Y/N . . . Ugh, fuck!" He pulled the chain towards him, swallowing your moan with the careful, wet kisses of his mouth. "You look so hot on top of me." You could feel the tight knots in your stomach slowly unraveling, the new angle doing mind-shattering things to your insides. 

"I-I . . . Tendo . . ." You stuttered, blinking rapidly as the feeling overcame you. 

Tendo's hands went to your thighs immediately, throwing you off of him and the sudden feeling of emptiness shocked you. "What the fuck?!" You cried, shaking the hair off your face as your wrists were still faithfully behind you. 

"Let me fuck that pussy," Tendo muttered, shifting you onto your hands and knees before sinking into you from behind as your head pressed into the pillow beneath you. "You're so tight . . . I love this pussy . . ." Tendo bent over you, till his chest was pressed to your back, his hand still clamped around the chain of your collar, making sure you were being choked how he liked you. 

"Moan for me, Y/N . . ." he whispered, lips and teeth clashing against the skin under your ear, your neck, your shoulder. You should've been embarrassed with the sounds leaving your parted mouth but you really couldn't focus on much besides the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you. 

The mindless euphoria and muffled pain of it all drove every thought out of your head, the uncertainty and unease. You wanted to be as close to Tendo as possible and he wanted to be deep inside you. As your vision blurred and you were so close to completely losing it, Tendo pulled out of you again. Your jaw fell open but he'd flipped you around and frantically uncuffed your now throbbing wrists, tossing the handcuffs to the side, before sliding back into you. 

"Fuucckkk . . ." He moaned, eyes fluttering but he tried to keep them open to watch your flushed face, your back arching until your breasts were pressed right up against his chest. The sound of profanities leaving his swelling lips was smothered as he sucked on your neck, your arms finally able to loop around his neck, yanking at his hair as he slipped his fingers between your legs. "C-Cum on my cock . . ." Tendo stuttered.

But you'd begged him to come inside and Tendo had to pull his head back to look at you with surprise. After the painful edging and denial, those words were enough to snap every knot in your stomach completely. Tendo had grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "I wanna see you when you cum," he managed to choke out as you tried your best to keep your eyes open, focused on his gaze and the way it sent goosebumps all over your sweat-glistening body. Tendo had sped up and groaned a string of curse words as he released inside of you, and you had given to defeat, throwing your head back, mouth open in a silent cry before Tendo's hips slowed down and the room was filled with shuddering breaths and occasional whimpers. 

"Holy fuck," Tendo whispered, unclipping the collar from around your neck and examining the red and almost bleeding skin before tossing the item to the side. "I'm so sorry . . . Did it hurt?" 

"K-Kinda," you squeaked as he kissed your neck softly. Truthfully, you hadn't noticed it then but the pain was coming back to you in short bursts as you trembled underneath Tendo. 

"I should've known considering it was like five bucks," he responded, dropping down next to you. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his chest. Tendo seemed surprised by this as you two normally cleaned yourselves up first before cuddling. 

"My parents are falling out of love," you blurted out. 

Tendo scoffed, pushing your hair out of your face. "I just fucked you like you were a bitch in heat and the first thing you say is 'my parents are falling out of love' . . . What the fuck am I doing?" he murmured, leaning down and kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry to hear that, Y/N."

You licked your lips, trailing your fingers over Tendo's bare chest. "I-I'm scared that . . . That you don't love me anymore either."

"Oh . . . This fucking girl, you can't leave her alone with her thoughts for a second," Tendo teased. "I can tell you this, Y/N; sometimes it doesn't work between people and forcing it will just make it worse." 

You nodded, shifting into a seated position so you could look at him properly. Tendo smiled at you, the mere action causing your heart to jump into you throat. "You're right . . . I'll have to hope for the best between my parents."

"That being said," Tendo continued, tucking your hair behind your ear gently. "I fucking love you and I don't plan on stopping so you can get that silly thought out of your head." There was a distant sound of the front door opening and when you'd glanced at the clock, you knew Semi was home. He'd announced his arrival and said,

"Keep fucking if you guys are fucking! I don't wanna ruin your relationship!"

Tendo rolled his eyes and hugged you closer, putting his chin on your shoulder. "You were amazing and I'm sorry about before . . ." You giggled. It seemed sort of trivial now. "You're beautiful by the way," Tendo said and you blushed. "Your face and body but also on the inside . . . and I'm not talking about these sweet insides I just ruined . . ."

"I know," You laughed as Tendo tickled your thigh with his fingertips. 

"Y/N," said Tendo suddenly and you glanced at him. "D-Do you want to try something new?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I guess the handcuffs weren't enough, huh? Yeah, let's do something new!" But you weren't expecting Tendo to call for Semi. To your own surprise though, you didn't stop him and even smiled widely when the boy pushed the door open and froze, blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

Tendo hadn't said anything further but your heart was pounding furiously again, especially when Semi's eyes shifted from Tendo to meet your own. He opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it.

A second later, he was tugging at his own hoodie, the only two words that left his lips "fuck it" completely forgotten once the door shut and Tendo dimmed the lights. 

#anime #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #anime smut #haikyuu tendou #tendou satori #tendou smut #smut #semi eita #tendou imagine #tendou drabble #tendou oneshot

[nelllraiser]

hell’s true north | adam & nell

TIMING: current. LOCATION: hellscape number ??. PARTIES:  @walker-journal & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: adam follows his compass home. CONTAINS: sibling death (brief references to the bea plot), mass poisoning (from inhospitable domain), parental death mentions.

Vines with the texture of withered leather fingers writhed under Adam’s feet as he stumbled out of a brackish puddle of ichor. Disaster response boots that’d been designed to weather fire, acid, and radiation had eventually yielded before the onslaught of otherworldly environs. Now the ragged soles barely clung to his feet, wrapped tight with bloody strips of bloody demon hide. The most cutting edge kevlar, environment-resistant tactical gear, breathing apparatuses, and deadly military firearms had been gradually ravaged into uselessness by universes full of chemicals and alternative laws of physics that Earthly science had never imagined. As the tactics, preparation, and martial science Adam had once relied on was stripped away in the nonstop battles with demonic flora and fauna, the title of Hunter had become brutally literal. 

Adam spelunked through caverns that formed from the innards of sleeping elder things, scaled cliff sides made of solidified light and shadow, jumped across archipelagos of bone islands floating in stormy skies, climbed up trees the size of skyscrapers whose fruits were embryonic sacks in which monsters gestated, hiked across the savannahs with rolling plains of scalpel-sharp obsidian grass, and tightroped across worlds that were just spider webs of tentacles stretched across abyssal gyres. 

Adam was now a ragged figure where a dauntless soldier had once been, the shreds of his tactical uniform stitched together with leather and pieces of chitin. Once the olympics-ready peak of health, the footballer’s veins were stained with dark lines across his skin and he stumbled across the landscape of grasping roots and tide pools of black blood. His breathing was shallow treks through world after world had wracked the Hunter’s body with alien toxins that even the mutant’s regeneration was failing to fight off. Adam’s vision was blurred with the edges and everything muscle in his battered body begged to just lay down in darkness. 

But the compass in Adam’s hand pointed the way across the hellscape of fire, floating islands of tentacled flesh, and geometric monoliths to old gods that's already sunk into dreaming torpor long before humankind had discovered fire. Adam fought back agony and followed the compass needles across the poisoned land. 

Everything had blurred together by now. Nell couldn’t even clearly remember how she’d gotten to this realm, just that she’d fallen through far too many holes in the ground, off cliff sides, or out of sky-hanging oceans to even begin to remember what world this was. The red skies she’d originally arrived under were long gone, barely a memory after all the worlds that had followed, and all the attacks she'd scrambled to come out of in one piece. Though perhaps calling herself one piece was being generous when she’d resorted to packing the missing chunks of her flesh with whatever she could find that didn’t instantly sting and burn at her open wounds. She didn’t know how long it had been since she’d slept, time still immeasurable in places like these— just that she hadn’t done it since the baykok’s attack. The lack of sleep meant she hadn’t been able to replenish a single shining grain of her magic after she’d been quite literally drained and fed from, her body having nothing but sheer determination to keep her wavering feet from falling out beneath her. 

Something was the very definition of fundamentally wrong with this world in terms of survivability. Nell could feel it in the way each breath felt sharper than the last, and the ugly coughs that had her spitting up black specks on the palms of her hands. None of the places she’d seen could have been described as friendly, but this one felt like it was digging her foot deeper into the grave with every second she stayed. She needed to find a way out if she wanted to make it another hour. Nell was far past the point of finding a way back to White Crest, ready to settle for a hellscape that wasn’t killing the witch with every inhale of her lungs, and go from there if she could manage to last that long. How long had she lasted already? How much longer could she last? She’d always been a fighter, refusing to go down without taking at least a part of her attacker with her. But how could she carve out a piece of a world? How was she meant to rage against an entire realm? Maybe sometimes there was simply nothing to fight against, the hand of Fate snuffing out her life whether she liked it or not. 

And yet she kept walking, limping along as the injury on her leg oozed with some otherworldly infection that promised to kill her if this air didn’t. There was no direction, no plan, just the foolish hope that she’d stumble into a place where she could properly breathe. She walked until she could barely make out a figure on the horizon, squinting her eyes against the bright green and dingy brown of this place while she wondered if this would be the final creature to kill her. But the figure grew closer, and despite her best judgement an uncontrollable wave of hope flooded her chest. “Adam?” she dared to utter, even though she knew it was far too good to be true. Nell and the hellscape had done this before in the form of a tikbalang sending her astray with the perfect illusion of her hunter. “We’re doing this again?” she asked the air in a tone that was resigned to the disappointment of finding another falsehood, the high instantly giving way to a low. “What is it? Another tikbalang?” But this Adam was different. He looked sickly, and past the point of battered— like he’d already knocked on death’s door only for death to tell him to come back in ten or so minutes. They’d call him when they were ready. Why would an illusion-caster show her this? 

Hallucinations had become ever more common as toxic environs and constant otherworldly stimuli wore down Adam’s nervous system. 

Sometimes it was dad, gently reminding him of past lessons as Adam fought his way through nightmarish creatures and tried to find his way through landscapes only possible in other realities. Other times it was James or Terry, come to chat idly about football and girls as Adam trekked across wastelands whose sloping yet flat contours didn’t obey the rules of time and space. Dave gruffly reminded him about knots and the perils of marine warfare as Adam journeyed through rivers that flowed up into the sky and seas of sentint poison. Regan gave pointers on splinting a broken arm with a demon’s bones all while primly reminding him she wasn’t that kind of doctor. Orion nervously recounted facts about obscure demon types as Adam ducked claws and spines while trying to find a weak point. Ariana punched Adam in the arm and reminded him to buck up and put on a tough grin when everything was just pain. Athena gave advice on slowing the poison’s spread through his body with her mixture of tenderness and steel. Kaden brusquely correctly Adam on his stances as the younger Hunter’s limbs trembled with neurological damage, before reminding him to stay alive. Mina kept him vigilant, pointing out dangerous movements and sounds even when every fiber of Adam’s body wanted to sink into oblivion. Morgan spoke gently to him when the horror became too much, her hand on his shaking shoulders when the mental strain of glimpsing elder things sent Adam into seizuring convulsions. Dani reminded him of duty and their ancestral oaths with a concerned smile when ancient deceivers whispered in Adam’s brain, offering easy miracles in his moments of weakness. Luce yelled at him to get the fuck back up and fight when Adam could barely stand and death’s release drew close. Beatrice demanded that Adam remember who he’d come her for, when poisoned dreams threatened to swallow reality entirely. 

So this was not the first time Adam’d met Nell and had to hold back tears when stabbing yet another shapeshifter to death or felt crushing emptiness when it turned out he’d only embraced only empty air. 

Adam looked down at the compass needle, pointing unerringly forward. 

“Hey Nell,” Adam rasped through cracked lips, taking a green stone with a hole through its center from a cord around his neck. He held out the Adder Stone in one hand, gory knife clutched in the other. “When’d you give this to me?” 

Nell looked to the Adder Stone held in Adam’s hand, her solemn resignation to the illusion disrupted by the flickering of uncertainty in her eyes. The compass was a new addition as well, though she recognized the daffodil bloom she’d carefully laid into the face of it, the magic and flowers they’d made together under a full moon. “But I didn’t- I was gonna give you that after the date,” she mumbled, already chiding herself for how easily a couple of emotional trinkets could sway her mind towards what the demon world wanted her to see. But the compass wasn’t what he was asking about. The Adder Stone. Of course she remembered when she’d given it to him- the first of many things she’d gifted in an attempt to keep him safe. 

“After Bea- after we...brought her back.” Nell had masqueraded the gift as a thanks for Adam’s help in bringing her sister back from the ether, but the truth had gone deeper than that. “I said it was for helping protect my family. But I just- the carachs had just given you those visions, and the somnivore thing wasn’t that far off.” It’d been nearly a year ago that she’d delivered the stone, nearly five months after their first meeting at the Ring, and by then she’d already gotten soft for him. “You were hurting and- I didn’t want you to hurt.” Taking the Adder Stone between her fingers, she swallowed hard as she held it before her face, already dreading the moment he’d disappear before her eyes. The motion sent her into a brief coughing fit, the heaves long and loud as her lungs desperately tried to dispel the poison in her system. At the end of it she finally raised the stone’s center to her eye, knowing this vision and her willingness to linger with even a false Adam had already shaved precious moments off the stopwatch that was ticking down the seconds until the poison got the best of her. “Let’s just- let’s get this over with.” It was silly, and she shouldn’t have said it knowing he was nothing more than an exhaustion or demon induced delusion. But she couldn’t help herself as the next words whispered from her lips, trying to find a moment of peace in a land that had never known it. “I miss you. I’ll miss you.”

Finally Nell looked through the stone’s center, still surprised at how solid it felt in her hands, wondering if that was another lie to be chalked up to feeling dead on her feet. Except Adam didn’t fade from view, didn’t disappear into nothingness as she locked her gaze onto his familiar and brown eyes. She gasped, still hardly believing it but reaching out nonetheless, letting the Adder Stone thump unceremoniously against his chest while its cord slackened and her hand found a gentle resting place alongside his cheek. Warmth. Perhaps a little too warm, as if he were running a fever. But there was the unmistakable feeling of life beneath her fingertips, and she didn’t hesitate a moment longer to close the space between them, slipping her other hand into his. Her knees grew even more unsteady, either from shock, barely having the energy to hold herself upright, or both— and for a moment she rested a little more weight against him than she probably should have considering his state. But it was impossible for her not to sink into the first safe place she’d found since the onychorror had snatched her. She’d finally found a place where she was safe in the hellhole. A place where she’d always been safe to crumble, to relieve her walls of their nearly ever-present duties. A place where she knew it was safe to fall because he’d never once stumbled when it came to catching her. “How- How did you- you’re real? Please- either this is a really good mindfuck or-” Or Tate had made good on his deal, and managed to get her hastily doctored sigil back to White Crest. Was it possible something had actually gone right? Had gone so right as to bring the man she loved to her side?

Adam let the knife fall from his hand onto the writhing ground and put his arms around Nell. There was a moment of tenseness, of resigned expectation. But she didn’t turn to mist, slip right through him, or boil up into some hungry thing. Tidal waves of relief and shock at something too impossibly good to be true collided in Adam’s chest. Nell was solid, real. Just a moment Adam couldn’t feel the heat of the burning sky or the poisons of alien worlds killing him cell by cell. 

“I’m real,” Adam assured holding her tight with what strength was left in him. “I’m really here.” He entwined the fingers of their free hands. “I don’t want any other life except one with you in it,” the Hunter confessed, wasting precious water as the tears slid down his bloody and battered face. 

“So uh...here I am.” 

Nell could feel her own tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, an avalanche of relief washing over her near-ravaged spirit, almost still waiting for this moment to break in a way that left her spinning. But the moment never came, and Adam was breathtakingly solid within her arms. For a long breath she savored the peace he brought, like a salve over an open wound. She wanted to bury herself against him, to hide from the world around them and pretend like it didn’t exist, but the fear that he’d disappear if she so much as looked away from his gaze was too great, afraid to even blink lest the break in their eye contact be the blip of time needed for him to dissipate from under her hands. 

She could feel her pulse gain a few extra beats while Adam made his declaration, heart in her throat while she ran his words on repeat through her mind. It was wrong. So wrong that such beautiful words should have to be uttered in a world as ugly as this one, spoken between the gasping breaths of a dying pair. Nell had always known that loving Adam wouldn’t be easy between his constant brushes with death, and the conditioning that often made him feel the need to put humanity’s welfare before anything else in his life. She’d done it nevertheless, having made peace with the fact that maybe he wouldn’t ever wholly be her’s, a part of him always belonging only to his mission. The pieces of him she’d been given had been more than enough. But that didn’t mean his admission didn’t tug at her heart, didn’t make it soar in a way that made a fluttering bloom in chest that had nothing to do with the poisonous air slowly killing her.

“Here you are,” Nell finally managed to repeat in wonder. Hadn’t he been the one trying to convince her to leave him behind should the demon apocalypse commence? He'd told her that she was a part of humanity’s hope for survival, that she should abandon him for the sake of the world. It was his own words that made her know the gravity of him choosing to come for her, to potentially sacrifice one of humanity’s hopes in the form of himself by searching for her in the endless worlds. And that was enough to keep her voice steady and sincere while she spoke. “I don’t want a life without you either.”

Part of Nell wanted to be upset with him, to scold him for being so foolish with his own life by following her into the portal, but she couldn’t manage to speak the words through the temporary moment of solace they’d found in the middle of hell— unwilling to break it. Unfortunately there was something else that needed to be said that would do just as good a job at shattering their moment of quiet. Something she couldn’t ignore. “There’s...something else I need to tell you.” Let her hold onto this shining feeling for just a few more seconds before she brought them back to reality.

Adam had grown up with the knowledge that his life wasn’t his own. It belonged to humanity’s destiny, a merciless idol that generations upon generations of his family had been sacrificed to appease. The abnegation of the self had been soothing in a way, it’d made him brave in a way. It doesn’t hurt to suffer and risk your life again and again if it isn’t truly yours to lose. He tried to never deceive the women in his life. Nobody deserved to be given only part of someone to love. 

Mom and dad had loved each other intensely, and Adam had seen the aftermath after the needs of humanity had demanded yet another sacrifice. At the time he’d thought he’d learned a lesson from Esther Walker’s sorrow, and was determined to never hurt someone the way his father had. 

But after three years of complete radio silence, Adam had spoken with mom and learned too late that he'd gotten it all wrong. As he’d grown, so had she, and neither mother or son were the same broken people that’d parted at Gehena 19. 

Penelope was a person he shouldn’t have loved. She practiced demonology, the very art that’d fucked up the world in the first place. She’d participated in human trafficking and slavery. She’d performed ritual human sacrifice. She’d hunted down bounties without any concern for morality or a higher cause. She aided and abetted supernatural criminals simply because of her personal feelings. When these actions reaped consequences, Nell responded with personal wrath and revenge rather than seeking resolution, splintering tragedy into ever more fractals of repercussion. 

Basically, by every standard he’d been raised to believe in, Penelope Vural was evil, and if she hadn’t been born human Adam would’ve been obligated to kill her. 

But that’s not what happened. At first it’d just been that she was a useful ally. Next it'd just been typical horndog Adam, thinking with the head in his trousers rather than one on his shoulders again. Physical attraction and wary partnership had explained things for only so long however. She was brave, self-sacrificing, vivacious, and free to act according to passion and her free will in a way Adam had never dared to be. Eventually Adam was sharing things with her that he’d never dreamed of telling anyone else. 

He wasn’t supposed to care about someone like Nell, to give her so much of what belonged to the mission. Adam could only love someone also sworn to fight the same war, no one else could understand the sacrifices necessary and what’d inevitably come sooner rather than later. Adam had been introduced to Huntresses his age with the unspoken understanding that eventually he’d find someone to fight alongside and raise children with to pass the sacred charge onto the next generation. 

Adam had drank, partied, and screwed his way into forgetting for a while. Until suddenly, he ended up loving the wrong person, someone who wanted Adam for just himself, war be damned. 

It wasn’t the right thing. 

But what if he just….did y’know?

What he just loved Nell like she deserved without holding back, fight for his own humanity for a change?

Adam just wished he'd had the courage to take that plunge earlier. 

Adam looked parted the embrace slightly so that he could meet her gaze  “What is it Nell?” 

Nell hadn’t planned to fall for Adam Walker, hadn’t even entirely noticed how close she’d let him get until she’d felt like she was on the edge of losing him, delivering the news that August Thompson had died a death far from peaceful— that Adam’s hand had been directly involved in the spellcaster’s demise. Of course she’d known he was one of the people she’d trusted most, one of the only people she’d ever let see her stripped to the core while he’d held her after Bea’s death. It was why she’d asked him to help in the first place. But she hadn’t realized just how much there was to lose until she was standing on the precipice. She’d been convinced that it would be the end, that she’d managed to ruin something before even really letting it begin, and that he wouldn't come back. It turned out she didn't need to worry about him coming back, because he’d never left in the first place. And he kept not leaving, something that had been rare in the life of a witch who had an overzealous temper and a reckless streak a mile wide. 

So when he’d done things others might condemn or draw the line at— killed a werewolf in cold blood, admitted his own bloodlust beneath a full moon, gone on a murder spree fueled by the same moon, considered a demon pact, left her on read in the middle of feeling as if she were about to lose him...there’d been no choice of whether or not she’d grant him the same loyalty, to stay with him just as he’d stayed with her. She’d just wanted him to come home. And he always had. Even now, after fighting his way through literal hell, he’d come home.

Selfishly putting off her bad news for one moment longer, she let months of feeling the sun on her face when he smiled fill her soul, holding onto that feeling as she tried to find the words for what she wanted to say. What needed to be said if they didn’t make it out of this hellscape, and what she should have said much sooner despite being scared. She’d been worried about what he might say in reply, always thinking of that part of himself that she knew he felt he couldn’t give, not sure if she wanted to hear the ‘I’m sorry, but’ that she might get in response. But the man who’d dived into hell for her deserved to hear it, and she wasn’t scared anymore. “You know I love you, right?” He didn’t need to say it back, she’d finally realized that while he’d been walking towards her, knowing loving words could never speak as loudly as his actions had. “I just wanted you to know,” she assured him, letting him know she didn’t need to hear it in return. It wouldn’t change anything. 

Now for the less charming of her news. “Not to...instantly bring the mood down but...the other thing I needed to tell you…” Nell glanced over her shoulder, as if the soul-snatching creature would be there even now as she divulged news of it. “There’s a...slaugh. I think it’s been following me.” Adam would know what it meant, that such creatures only went after those who were generally mere hours from dying, waiting to devour their souls. Nell had glimpsed it as she kept rubbing elbows with death in the hellscape, the being momentarily coming into focus while she’d barely escaped a demon encounter with her life still intact. The creatures were nearly as good at predicting death as banshees were.

Adam followed her gaze towards the burning horizon where plasma storms corrustated in lightning rainbows over living plains of crawling flesh. Slaugh were vultures of the spirit world. As a kid he’d been terrified of the invisible presences that set off his Hunter senses whenever there was a clash between militia forces around the Levant. It’d felt like a blizzard of dark wings, choking him with claustrophobia on empty arid plains covered in bodies shredded by shrapnel.

Mom had assured her son he wasn’t crazy. He could just feel the demons glutted humanity’s senseless wars against itself.  

Adam‘s mind went back to Regan’s prophecy and felt an iron dread settle in his stomach, adding bittersweetness to the joy and relief coursing through his enervated body. 

Adam let the future go and drew Nell close against him again, just letting this moment exist for as long as hell allowed. “We’ll figure it out when we get back to Earth ,” he murmured.

The tension in Nell’s shoulders melted as Adam pulled her back, savoring their togetherness for as long as she could, feeling true hope for the first time since...she wasn’t actually certain how long it had been, not even knowing how many days she’d been stuck in these hell-worlds. She drew a long breath while she was pressed against him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze to assure herself that he was still here- still real even though it seemed impossible that he was. When they got back to Earth. It seemed like a far off hope, like shooting for the moon without any of that bullshit optimism of landing among the stars. “Then you can tell me the plan when we find a place that’s not suffocating us.” He wouldn’t have come without one, right? It was one thing to condemn himself to death, and she wouldn’t be entirely surprised given his generally self-sacrificing nature, whether that had been taught, was natural, or a combination of the two. But it was another entirely to forfeit the life of her as well by diving in without an extraction plan. He wouldn’t have risked the person he was saving.

The slaugh was worrisome enough as an omen of death, but there’d been more to consider when it’s eating of souls was brought into play. Nell still wasn’t all that sure whether she’d want to be raised from the dead in the first place should she perish in the next twenty-four hours, but if the slaugh ate her soul...she wouldn’t have a choice to begin with. You couldn’t raise a body without a soul. 

Again Nell fell silent while she drank in as much as this as she could, the dread in her stomach a constant reminder of how far there still was to go. But with Adam- at least she stood a chance. With Adam they could at least sleep, taking varied watches. And then maybe some of her magic would come back and Adam could heal, and then...well then they’d at least have a fighting chance together, always stronger together. Nell used her fragile strength to bring herself to the tips of her toes, trying to press a gentle kiss to his black-veined cheek before feathering across his lips. “We’ll figure it out when we get back to Earth,” she echoed, recognizing it as another promise they could hold between them. They’d go back to Earth together in the same way they’d fought the dolorphage, the way they’d faced an unknown future beneath the full moon all those months ago, and the same way they’d taken on a demon cult and lived to tell the tale— always together.

#// DON'T LOOK AT ME IM EMOTIONAL #as alwAYS tapir just gives me a GIFT of a chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy #ch:adam #hell's true north #sibling death tw #mass poisoning tw #parental death tw

[anxiouslyfred]

Blackberry Delivery Service

Summary: Where soulmates get plants that reflect what is done to each of them at unpredictable time of their lives, schools teach it’s about maturity. Virgil has known this is wrong since he got his plant at the young age of 8.

Remus never learns this before the night everything goes wrong gets followed by a day out of Roman’s daydreams.

/\/\

Nobody had figured out yet how the delivery service worked. There were classes in schools covering the history of soulmates and the plants connected to them which could go over how when people roamed the lands or lived in small villages and tribes they'd be drawn to the plants when they were ready for it. That still happened in a lot of the indigenous cultures, where spending time among nature was a larger part of their way of life.

For the people in cities though a delivery service had opened with the advent of a postal service. When a person became ready to care for their plant it would be delivered at a time they were alone at home and then the van would disappear for somewhere else. No base was known of for the Soulmate plants delivery, nor any greenhouses and plenty of legends surrounded the vans but nothing could get confirmed.

Virgil had read everything he could about them regardless. Originally it was dreaming that he'd get his plant one day and learn how he can find his soulmate with it. Receiving it when he was just 8 years old had grown the interest into the reasons people claimed they got their plants.

What schools taught was that if you are mature enough to care for someone, or something, living other than yourself and put their needs on the same level as your own then the plant would be delivered. The forums and multitudes of orphanages and care homes gave out different lessons, leaflets filled with personal stories about people getting their plant so they had something to look forward to, a reassurance there was somebody out their for them.

That was why Virgil received his plant. His parents had busy jobs and rarely spared a thought for their son, so long as he was fed, clean and his clothes were the good quality expected of reasonably wealthy parents. He'd gotten lonely and used to being ignored, or a second thought to everyone but the blackberry bust he received was a promise that wouldn't continue forever.

And that was how he continued on, looking after the plant and trying its best to help it grow. The thorns were longer than a normal blackberry bush and grew in a higher number but the berries were a wonderful balanced of sweet and tangy. It was soon Virgil's favourite treat, as long as the berries came from his soulmate plant. If only he could tell his soulmate was looking after theirs as well, but nothing changed except what Virgil did to the plant.

/Years Later for Remus\

It had taken far too long for Remus to save up the money for his own flat. Still, 10 times fired is 20 people he knows can't accept who he is, and he could finally move out from Roman's apartment.

He'd thought there could be a celebration, him and his brother having a game night or something to mark the achievement. Sure Remus would have liked to do more than that, go to a bar, or maybe bowling and see how many innuendos and dirty jokes he could make around it, but with Roman back in rehearsals a night in, getting him settled into the flat would have been nice.

Instead they argued, Remus hurt over the dismissal Roman gave. “I can't just fritter away hours with you. This could be a big break for me if it gets the presses attention so I have to be responsible for my time.”

“It's one night, Ro. One night to get that stick out of your arse, loosen up and just be silly again. Fuck, we could find an adventure on a hike and play dragons and princes again like we used to. Toast the fact I'm making it on my own now.” Remus had pleaded, just needing something to mark the change.

“Yeah and then in a month, possibly two, you'll be asking for an adventure or night out to celebrate you moving straight back in.” Roman scoffed, dismissing the idea and Remus's long standing dream of independence in one sentence.

Remus had slammed the door to his flat open then. He'd made the offer when they finished moving all his stuff over to the apartment and there was something darkly satisfying that he could now actually kick Roman out now. “Fuck you, Get the hell out of here! You've watched how fucking hard I've worked to get this and now you think I'm going to throw it all away for what?” He made no attempt to keep his voice down, too hurt and angry to care.

“Yeah, cause you're so mature. You haven't even received a plant to look after yet.” Roman had started to protest but as soon as Remus's missing plant was mentioned he was getting manhandled out of the door.

“I'm blocking you everywhere. I fucking trusted you!” Remus screamed, throwing cushions from the sofa at the door as soon as he'd slammed it shut, locking it behind Roman.

Remus had tried. He'd done everything he could think of to be mature enough to get that soulmate plant, but it still hadn't been delivered. Every day he hoped that perhaps finally it would come; that whatever spirits created and delivered the plants would finally realise he was ready for the soulmate plant.

He'd even kept a garden on the balcony at Roman's house. That was Remus's space and he'd kept it alive, thriving even. Every plant he'd had there had now found a place on window sills around the apartment, as specified to their requirements as Remus could manage.

For Roman to have thrown his missing soulmate plant back at him was too far, and his brother should have known that. It had turned the first night in his apartment which Remus had been so excited to finally afford from being a celebration to one of near destruction.

Remus had agreed with fix and redecorate the apartment for a reduced rent so he decided to move the screaming in his brain to chipping the cracked tiling away from the walls of the bathroom. The landlord had offered it when learning he was a joiner after his most recent building course. With every strike he wished it was a stem he could yank away from Roman's lavender bush, make him realise just how it felt to be missing something everyone insisted was important.

Mud, plants and carpentry could only get Remus so far until he was collapsing onto his new bed, and the tears came.

A new home, but an even lonelier life than before now he couldn't face the last person to try and stick with him again.

/A New Day Comes\

Remus thought the knock on his door must be Roman, trying to apologise or just explain himself. There were always more explanations from Roman than spoken apologies. The apology was shown in his behaviour and the time he cut himself off.

He definitely didn't expect the knock to be a blackberry bush and a van driving out of sight.

An apartment with no balcony or attached garden was probably the worst possible place Remus could try to grow blackberries, but he didn't have much choice, not over what his soulmate plant was, or where it could grow. There was at least a large window in his bedroom that he could find space for it in.

Remus gave it a small smile as he carried it through, leaving it at the foot of his bed for a moment. “Well I guess you were finally ready to come to me then. You just wait here while I shift some of your new friends around to give you a nice spot to rest in.” He says, stroking the leaves lightly before turning away.

“This isn't the ideal space for you, I know, but it's what I have and what's mine is yours, Buddy. Well for you and all my other plant friends of course. I don't care if your connected to my soulmate, these guys get all my love just as much as you do.” Remus was rambling, still mostly talking to the blackberry bush but nuzzling into the other plants he had as they were moved, some closer together and a couple taken to one of the other windowsills.

“I'm no more mature than I was yesterday so it seems like the teachers were just saying more bullshit to us all. Wonder why you're actually here though. Unless it's because I'm completely alone in the world now, and this is all just a complete scam. What makes me being completely alone the trigger when Roman got his years ago after a night moping that he's never be someone's hero?” They'd still been living with their parents when that happened, but now Remus was focused on being lied to by schools.

He shook his head, moving the bush to the new spot. “Maybe I should have tried mixing those chemicals in science labs given everything else they've lied over. I bet it wouldn't have caused anything fun to happen anyway. Now Buddy, you need a frame or some support to hook onto and then I want to start checking online if there are any people around caring for blackberry bushes. If my soulmate already has you then I'm gonna be telling them off for not caring for you properly. Lack of gardening knowledge does not mean you're unable to research a singular plant.”

Remus fell to humming as he started rooting through the boxes that hadn't yet been unpacked for his gardening supplies. He'd need to trim the bush a bit and get it tied onto a frame. There was plenty of time before he had work to get that done.

/Over to Virgil\

After growing up with his blackberry bush, Virgil never expected anything to change with it. He wasn't sure if that was because his soulmate was content to let him look after it or if they just hadn't received their plant yet.

This morning was proving they probably hadn't received it until now and were very knowledgable about how to look after their plants. Virgil had watched as the canes were cut, thorns trimmed away in the busier areas of the bush and then as a frame appeared in the pot, stalks being tied to it from the bottom upwards.

It had been a relaxing if confusing scene to watch but Virgil hadn't wanted to look away. There was evidence he had a soulmate and apparently one who's a very avid gardener.

Part of him wanted to cheer, to dance around his home screaming for joy. He had a soulmate out there, and now their plants were more identifiable than the wild growth that was all Virgil understood enough to achieve. There was a chance he could one day find someone who wouldn't just be talking to him for his family name, or in the hopes of getting a higher role in his mother's business.

It just made Virgil want to go out and start actually trying to find whomever they were, but what if they were annoyed that he hadn't taken better care of their plant? What if they had their life all put together and only cared about the plant because soulmates were meant to be important to them and he'd just disappoint them?

There were hundreds of what if questions that Virgil was now coming up with, stilling his hands as he went to search the 'match my plant' websites there were.

Instead he just double checked his Blackberry bush was watered enough and drew a V in the soil, washing his hands before finally heading into the restaurant his parents wanted checking on today. They'd decided Virgil should have a role as site inspector for the restaurants while they were refurbished or put together for a new site opening at some point and Virgil didn't mind the role. It gave him the chance to meet normal people in the builders, electricians and other skilled jobs as well as avoid special treatment from the restaurants staff since most of the time they'd never meet him officially.

Today the site was having fitted counters installed as well as the tables secured for the private booths. Virgil would really just be checking everything looked right and hoping to avoid chatting to the joiner for too long.

“Hey there, Are you the boss man for the site?” There was a man in fluorescent overalls trying to peer through the windows of the restaurant, knocking on them as Virgil walked up to it.

Most of the builders had been given the morning off so they didn't get in the way but the actions of the man had Virgil checking the time and realising he'd set off late after watching his plant get looked after. “Yep, that's me. Sorry I ran a little late. It seems like my soulmate has gotten their plant and was doing a lot of gardening for it this morning. I got distracted watching it.” The explanation was far more than the joiner needed to know, but it felt deserved given Virgil was late.

“Cool thing, Patches. I got mine this morning too. Must be a busy day for the delivery guys. You planning on letting us in or should I break a window and replace it on my way out?” The man had walked back to the van that was parked on the pavement in front of the restaurant as he spoke, but leaned back to wink at Virgil when he suggested the vandalism.

Virgil shook his head, snorting a little at the idea. It didn't seem serious so he wasn't going to treat it as such. “First, I'm gonna need to see some ID, preferably your traders license. Can't just trust people who ask if I run the building without introducing themselves at all.” He did pull the keys out of his pocket though, waiting beside the door as the other bounced back over.

“Well, I'm Remus, here's my card, call me whenever for whatever cause a body like yours I ain't gonna refuse.” Remus definitely checked Virgil out as he spoke but still handed over his license, a business card behind it that Virgil pocketed.

Unlocking the door, he shook his head again. “I'm Virgil and will need to call the company doing the rest of this place to complain about the state they've left it in. Sorry it seems to be chaos. I did order them to leave it clear yesterday but apparently my instructions were ignored.”

Remus didn't seem to care, already carrying various boards and his toolkit, just making large steps over any equipment or items left in his way. “I got a blackberry bush this morning. You said you thought your soulmate had got theirs today too so what's yours?”

“Oh, yeah, same. It's blackberries too. I've been scared that I'll hurt it if I do anything though so have mostly left it to grow its own way once I got a mini greenhouse to look after it in.” Virgil agreed, pulling his phone out, and falling into mumbles over how to make the call.

It was only moments later when Virgil looked up to actually double check the number, ever doubting his phone had saved it correctly, that he realised Remus had frozen and started watching him, large siding board still balanced on his shoulder. “Did I say something wrong? Is there something I need to raise as a big issue to like health and safety that I've missed?” He asked.

Remus bounced between his feet for a moment, almost falling before he remembered the siding and leant it against the wall. “No Dude, but like, does your plant look something like this now?” He pulled his phone out while speaking, flicking through a few screens before showing a picture of Virgil's blackberry bush, except it was surrounded by dozens of other plants on a windowsill that was in dire need of fresh paint and probably new frames all together.

“That's – That is my plant! Even down to the frame that appeared!” Virgil exclaimed, almost snatching the phone away to look closer at the picture. “I watched everything getting trimmed and tied onto the frame this morning.” He muttered, all thoughts of scolding the builders leaving his mind in the moment.

“So you're my soulmate then?” Remus asked after a minute of waiting for that connection to be made.

Virgil didn't think his eyes could get any wider or that he could be any more shocked than he already was, but that sentence would have managed it. “Well, must be, this is my plant so yeah.” He nodded frantically through the explanation.

He was a bit confused when Remus's expression darkened to a scowl. “This entire soulmate thing is fucked up. Nothing against you but is this stupid damnable universe telling me I had to go through losing or falling out with everyone I know only to get my plant and meet my soulmate on the same fucking day? It's ridiculous and stupid. If it wanted to pull this fairytale bullshit with anyone it should have been with Roman. This feels like he's fucking writing the story of my day just to spite me after throwing everything I've been trying to do back in my face yesterday.” The rant had Virgil backing away a little, sitting down on one of the benches as Remus carried on.

“I did every fucking thing I could to be whatever stupid ideal of mature this world wants before letting people have their plants for years! I scraped through course after course, job after job just trying to find one which I could make a career out of, earn enough to get even a ratty apartment I need to fix up for the landlord and then have the universe fucking telling me to speed run the entire process. Not just, hey Remus, you can finally have the soulmate plant to look after since you've been looking after your hundred plant babies so well, but hey Remus, you brother is a fucking bastard so you're all alone but here's a plant and hey, here's your entire fucking soulmate too.” Remus was screaming at the walls, the ceiling, anywhere that wasn't Virgil, looking like he was two steps from destroying the next thing he looked at closer to ground level.

Virgil usually felt panicked by watching displays of anger like this in real people. He'd usually do everything he can to get out of that situation but instead he just listened and waited, learning more from the rant than he'd expected to.

The yelling must have been audible from outside or something because there was soon a knock on the window of the restaurant, although Remus didn't seem to hear it. He did notice when Virgil stood though, falling quiet to watch him as though expecting him to say something.

With a gesture to the door Virgil went to open it, only to blink as someone almost identical to Remus stood on the opposite side, holding what he guessed might have been a peppermint plant. “Hi, um, sorry if I can't do this, but Remus hasn't been answering my calls and had mentioned doing some work here today. Is he still around?” The man asked, shifting to try and see further into the store.

“Who are you, first? And what's with the plant?” Virgil held a hand up to keep them outside, raising an eyebrow at their discomfort.

“His brother, Roman. I said something I really shouldn't have and have come to beg for forgiveness. The plant is part of my apology.” With that explanation, especially following the rant he'd just heard Virgil held one finger up before shutting the door in his face.

Remus seemed to have started getting his work tools out now his rant had been cut off when Virgil sat down again. “So that was some rant you had there and given I've had my blackberry bush since I was 8, I might be able to explain what actually seems to be the time the plants come to us. Before that though, are you going to start screaming again if I say there's someone at the door holding a plant and asking if you're here so they can beg for forgiveness?” He explained, watching as Remus turned to him and then deflated.

“He literally said I wouldn't last more than a couple months in my new apartment before having to live with him again, threw the fact I hadn't got my plant yet in my face last night and is now trying to apologise with a fucking plant?” Remus muttered, but sighed as he stood up.

Roman was let in silently and he seemed to watch Remus as if expecting something to be said first. Remus was watching his brother just as carefully, before glancing over to Virgil.

“Seriously. Are we sure the universe hasn't stolen one of Roman's stories and decided to dump me into it?” He asked, taking the peppermint from Roman and placing it in front of the window.

“I have literally known Roman for all of 2 seconds so have no clue what those stories might be like to say.” Virgil pointed out, knowing his expression was probably reflecting how crazy he found the question to be.

Remus rolled his eye, “I see no prostrating yourself on the floor to beg for forgiveness. This apology so far sucks worse than Mrs PeePee's apple sorbet.” He glanced over to Roman who was looking between them confused.

“Yes, of course dear Brother, except there isn't exactly space on the floor for that to be possible. I spoke entirely out of turn yesterday and should have never even considered speaking to you the way I have done. You have my deepest apologies and I swear that I will do everything I can to help make it up to you. In fact I would be honoured if tonight you'd accompany to the indoor mini golf course that's opening on the edge of town. It's rainforest themed and I hear rumours they've included a swamp area.” Roman bowed as he was speaking, actually glancing around to see if it was safe for him to kneel.

Virgil couldn't help snickering at it though, and Remus was soon to join in the laughter. “Let's all go actually. I need to know if this idiot is entertaining beyond cheap jokes and loud rants to tell the universe off.” Virgil agreed, before glancing at the sideboard and the time. There was still a couple of hours before the rest of the builders should arrive, hopefully enough time for Remus to do some of the work he was actually here for.

“Sure, you're forgiven and I think the universe has done pretty much everything I would have asked you to do or try to do already.” Remus agreed, jumping over a few things back to where he would be fitting the counters. “By the way, this is my soulmate and I got a blackberry bush this morning. Only figured that it was the same as his like 10 minutes before you got here.”

“Was that what the screaming was about? I thought someone was injured?” Roman asked, moving to the bench when Virgil shrugged and patted it.

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, Remus has a few things to say to whatever does soulmates about how today has gone for him. Not sure the universe listens to people screaming in restaurants-to-be though.”

Eventually Virgil would get Roman to share one of the stories Remus had kept referencing and had to agree: The day they met really did seem to come out of Roman's imagination.

#dukexiety #soulmate au #virgil sanders #remus sanders #creativitwins #roman sanders

[come-on-shitty-boys]

// fatherhood headcannons //

Characters: Kozume Kenma / Akaashi Keiji / Oikawa Tooru

Request: Heyyy merry xmas (if you celebrate it) can I request kenma fatherhood hcs I saw you other ones before and it was so cute (and maybe him having a daughter )

Warnings: some swearing

Word Count: 1.8K (~550 a piece)

Notes: bokuto with stretch marks. That’s all. That’s the note.

Kozume Kenma:

Oof how to put this nicely . . . 

He was terrible. Absolute t r a s h during the pregnancy.  And it wasn’t on purpose.  He wasn’t just sitting there purposefully dismissing your aches and hormone-induced cries.  Kenma just didn’t know that it was actually a big deal.  He didn’t know that you were genuinely in serious amounts of discomfort.

You would say that your back was hurting and he’d be like, “yeah, mine too.”  Which is v a l i d.  He has videos to edit, so he spends a lot of time hunched over his desk, but you’re also carrying a child. H I S C H I L D so he could stand to be a little more sympathetic.

Morning sickness? He’s not about to be there to hold your hair back.  He’s still fast asleep.  Probably didn’t even know that you weren’t feeling well.  Kenma isn’t a total jerk about it.  He does care about you! I need to make that clear.  He does care.  He’ll ask you if you’re feeling better when you mention that you were sick earlier that day, ask if you need anything from the store, etc etc.

It’s really more or less the fact that he’s going to be a dad in less than nine months hasn’t fully set in??  He knows that you’re pregnant.  He’s been there for the ultrasounds.  He’s heard the heartbeat.  He knows that there will be a baby, but it’s like his brain hasn’t processed that it’s his baby yet.

And it doesn’t fully hit him until you wake him up in the night, hitting his shoulder frantically, saying that something doesn’t feel right and in his sleepy haze he can only think to ask-

“Is the baby okay?”

bitch i don’t know that’s the problem 

But he’s out of bed faster than you are, practically shoving shoes on your feet to get you out the door and into the car. pspsps there was no problem just l a b o r

Kenma didn’t cry when the baby arrived, honestly he didn’t even make any moves to hold his little girl when you offered her out to him.  He was just so in awe?  He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.  She was so tiny and he was so scared that he might break her if he tried to hold her.

It takes him awhile to settle into the whole fatherhood thing, but once he gets it, he gets it.  He becomes some kind of expert multitasker.  He’s got the guys on discord through his headset, heating up formula, daughter strapped to his chest with one of those baby holders, ready to get back to gaming with his little girl right there.

She makes a few guest appearances during his streams, because she’ll start crying, wanting attention or to be fed, which brings him to sitting at his desk, bouncing his baby on his lap, continuing on with his stream like it’s the most normal thing in the world, watching as his chat blows up with people obsessing over how cute his daughter is.

Akaashi Keiji

I’m sure this a shock to everyone, but Akaashi is fucking clueless.  He was an only child and his best friend is the youngest?  He never really had to think about babies before.

He tries to research, but he gets so caught up in, ‘Is this a credible source? Can I trust what they’re telling me?’ that he learns absolutely nothing.  Like he knows all of the actual science behind what’s happening, but he has no idea how to take care of a baby.  What kind of diapers are the best?  Should you breastfeed or would formula be the better option?  How quickly should you be trying to teach them things like speech or walking?

Lucky for Akaashi, when his female co-workers, especially the ones who were mothers themselves, found out the exciting news that Akaashi was expecting a baby with you they were giving him every piece of advice under the sun.  “You need to establish a sleep routine!  It’ll take a while, but the baby will get it eventually!” “I know they say that you shouldn’t run to your baby every single time they cry, but that’s actually really harmful for their psyche in the long run.” “Make sure to play lots of classical music, especially early on.  It helps with development!”

When it comes to you, he’s pretty hit or miss?  He’s observant! Absolutely! But, he’s not really sure how to help you when you’re feeling insecure about your body or scared that you’re not going to be a good parent.  He can tell you that you’re beautiful or that everything will be okay, but it never fails to make the situation worse because, “You’re my husband.  You have to say that.”

The hormones.  They do be throwing hands with him smh

Akaashi spent the entire last two months of your pregnancy baby proofing the entire house.  If you wanted a glass of milk, it took you nearly 10 minutes.  You know he means well, but he definitely went a little overboard.

He used to give your forehead a kiss every morning before he left for work, but now Keiji will lean in to kiss your forehead before squatting down to place a kiss on your stomach

He also helps you get ready in the morning.  Your range of motion definitely isn’t what it used to be now that you have a baby bump, so he’s more than willing to help you tie your shoes or hook your bra if you need him to.

PANICKED BOY DURING DELIVERY

Everything that he was told just left his brain and he suddenly forgot everything that he had been told.  He was holding onto your hand just as tightly as you were holding onto his, but he’s trying his best for your sake.

But the first moment that he sees his little baby all swaddled up in that blanket, you swear that you’ve never seen Akaashi’s eyes so wide and his face so blank.  It’s like you could see the gears turning in his head, trying to process everything that just happened.  

He’s absolutely silent.  He doesn’t say a single word or make any noise when he finally has the opportunity to hold his son for the first time.  He can do nothing but stare.  It’s really a sight to see.  The two best things in your life just staring at one another with absolute wonder.

Akaashi takes his baby’s development very seriously.  He wants his son to be just as smart as the both of you some day, so he takes it upon himself to read to his son before every single nap.  

Poor Keiji has read Green Eggs and Ham more times than he would like to admit.

Oikawa Tooru

Now listen. I know we all want to give him shit, but my god is he the only one who knows what the hell is going on 

He has a sister who has been through this whole pregnancy thing at least once. He’s not helpless.  He knows how to take care of a kid.  Oikawa Tooru can rock a baby to sleep faster than you can say Seijoh.  He’s just that good.

Tooru bought you the ugliest pair of sneakers when your feet started to swell and your other sneakers started to get uncomfy, but god damn they were the best pair of shoes that you ever put on your feet.  Well, that he put on your feet.  It’s kind of difficult to put shoes on when there’s a uh . . . big ol’ bump in the way.

He frequently talks to your stomach in Spanish and has already given the little bean a nickname to match the Spanish one he gave you.  He also hums little songs while he rubs your stomach ugh lots of sweet vibes from oikawa

And it’s literally because his sister sent him P A R A G R A P H S just to tell him how to take care of you while you were pregnant.  All of these little things that he never would have thought of like getting one of those grabber things so you didn’t have to bend over so much or keeping snacks and anything you could possibly be craving on a low shelf so you didn’t hurt yourself climbing for the bag of pretzels.

While Tooru loves you and would do anything for you, he absolutely refuses to rub your feet.  Do not even bother asking.  He will turn up his nose and look at you like you’ve lost your mind.

He’s always telling his teammates about you and how big you’ve gotten, what size his little baby is, what names he was thinking about.  Ah it’s so cute.  He invites some of them over to help him put together the nursery, asking them if they prefer the elephants or the bears?  Should they choose yellow or maybe a nice grey?

When it came to the actual delivery of the baby, he was so calm???  Like?? Unnervingly calm?  He just held your hand, running his other hand over your head, pushing your hair back, reminding you to breathe just like he had practiced with you, telling you that you’re doing so well, that it will all be over and worth it soon.

And it really was.  Seeing his face light up with the most adoring smile that you had ever seen as he took his little one into his arms was one of the most beautiful sights you had ever seen.  He was absolutely in love and all it took was one little look and he was already cooing and making silly faces.

But those goofy faces and cute voices were just to mask the tears that had welled in his eyes at finally being able to hold the most beautiful thing on the planet.  He never thought he’d get to be a dad, settling down was something that had always seemed so distant and strange to him until he met you.  And yet, here he was.  A full-fledged dad, on the verge of sobbing as he held onto his first-born as if his entire universe would crumble if he looked away for even a second.

Please don’t even get me started on when his kiddo wrapped their hand around his finger.  SOBBED.  He’s gone.  Absolutely bawling his eyes out.

Ugh i could go on forever about dad!oikawa he’d just be so 10/10

{taglist: @moncymonce​ @nicka-nell​ @lovinnoya​ @celosiiaa​ @ush7jima​ @deephasoceanmagic​}

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #kenma #oikawa #akaashi #kenma kozume #kenma x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #x reader

[manicdean]

Taang Week Day 2: Modern AU

“Thursday, never looking back,”

[ @taangweek​ Day 2: Modern AU

After only two weeks of spring semester, Aang is fed up and ready to drop his geology class.]

A/N: i wanna redo this and make it better and i really struggled with the world-building here ngl so I couldn’t really come up with good names for the buildings or profs.  what can you do¯\_(ツ)_/¯  Inspired by tumblr user @rllyjohnrlly’s modern au, specifically this post.

Read on AO3

***

Science, as Aang was learning, was absolutely not what he had thought it would be.  When he was still in high school, he excitedly declared a zoology major on all of his college applications, thinking he would turn his love for animals into a lifelong career.

All it took was his first college-level biology class to quickly bury that idea.  Between that and chemistry for non-majors, he felt resigned to the idea that all science classes were a bad idea for him, and that he’d better just pick the easiest one in the catalog to round out his general requirements.  Which is how he found himself enrolled in the Introduction to Geology class his freshman spring semester.  He’d learned the three types of rocks and the basics in high school, how hard could it be?

(the answer was very hard)

(but slightly less hard than biology)

After the second week of class, he sat on the floor of Katara’s dorm, textbook draped across his lap as she sat at her desk, diligently working on her homework.  She really excelled at the very classes that almost killed him and he admired that about her.

“Ugh!” Aang groaned, slamming his textbook shut and throwing his head back onto her bed.   “Katara, this is awful.” 

She set her pen down and shifted in her chair to face him, the look on her face one of confusion and concern.  “What’s the matter?” 

“I can’t do this!  I hate this class,” he replied, pressing his palms into his eyes.

“Aang, what are you talking about?  You can’t hate a class already, we’re only two weeks into the semester!  What could possibly be so bad about it now?” Katara asked, getting up from her chair and walking over to sit across from him.

He sighed and let his hands fall back into his lap.   He rolled his head to look at her.  “Because it’s awful!  I knew it probably wouldn’t be much fun, but I thought at least it would be pretty easy.  And it’s not!  It’s so hard and so boring and the professor is the most lame professor I have ever met.” 

(she couldn’t help but smirk at that)

“Okay, well, you’re not going to find a class that’s easy, especially in your weakest subject.  It’s just not going to happen.  Maybe it’ll get more interesting after the first few chapters.  Those are always just introductory anyway, they’re way more boring than the rest of the class.” She could see he wasn’t convinced and added, “The drop period was over Friday, anyway, so if you’re going to take a withdrawal, you might as well wait until after the first test.  Maybe it won’t be as hard as you’re expecting.” 

Aang sighed.  She was right.  He hated when she was right.  “Fine.  I’ll stick it out through the first test, but can we please take a study break now?”

***

Thursday morning, Aang walked into the lecture hall, trying his best not to drag his feet.  It took all of his determination that morning to make his way to class instead of staying holed up in his dorm, playing video games until he got hungry.  But he’d promised Katara and he knew he would get an earful if he broke his promise.  Maybe if he just pretended he was Katara for a period, he’d have more ease with the class.  Katara wouldn’t sit in the back, as was his first impulse, she would sit in the very first row.

He compromised and sat about four rows back.  Earbud in one ear, he set his notebook on the table and pulled out his phone, scrolling through the texts from his friends that he’d missed on his walk.  He didn’t notice when a dark-haired girl sat in the seat next to him until she tapped on his notebook.  Startled, he yanked out the earbud and looked at her.  “Um, hello?”

The girl looked at him 

(he couldn’t help but notice how pale her eyes were and the weird quality to her gaze that he couldn’t pinpoint)

and said, “You normally sit all the way in the back.  What are you doing up here now?  We haven’t even had a test.  Did you get in trouble or something?” 

His cheeks felt warm and he knew he was blushing.  “No, I just felt like maybe I’d learn better closer to the front.  This stuff has been kind of hard for me so far, I guess.” 

The look on her face was a little unsettling, like she was staring straight through him.  She finally shrugged, turning away from him.  “What’s so hard about geology?”

“I don’t know.   I guess science classes just don’t come very easily to me.”

“Well lucky for you, geology is, like, as easy as they get,” she said.  He didn’t feel especially reassured, but smiled a little anyway.

“So what you’re saying is you’ll help me study?”  Aang asked sheepishly.

She snorted, but replied, “Maybe I will.  What’s your major, anyway?”  

“Oh, um,” he stuttered, feeling the redness in his face deepening and rubbing his neck in embarrassment.  “I was a zoology major, but right now I’m undeclared.” He wanted to ask her the same question, wanted suddenly to know everything about this brazen, somewhat guarded girl who had sat next to him (and had noticed that it was not his normal seat), but was cut off by the professor calling the class’s attention to the lectern.

***

Seventy-five painstaking minutes of trying

(and failing) 

to pay attention to the powerpoint in front of him instead of the dark-haired girl leaned back in the seat next to him later, the class was dismissed.  The girl had stood, grabbing her bag, and Aang panicked for a moment, trying to think of something to say.  He finally settled on asking if he could walk her to her next class.

She paused, turning her head towards him.  “Well, it’s all the way over in the Humanities building.”

“That’s okay, that’s on the way to my dorm, and I don’t have another class for an hour, anyway.” He swore he saw her smile as she rolled her eyes and said, “Fine.  You can walk with me.” 

They talked the whole way there, never seeming to run out of topics.  He was disappointed at how short the walk felt, having so much more to ask her.  He’d found out she was an architecture major with a lifelong special interest in geology, lived in the freshman dorms by the Physical Sciences lecture hall, and that despite being blind, she was as in-tune with her surroundings as anyone.  It was only after they said their goodbyes that he realized he’d never learned her name.

***

Her name, as it turned out, was Toph.

Every Tuesday and Thursday over the next three weeks, they sat next to each other and Aang walked her to her next class.  He actually found motivation to study his notes for the first time, if only for the fact that the recordings she shared with him featured their conversations in the background of the lecture.  

Once, he had been running late after sleeping through his alarms, and while his first impulse had been to go back to sleep and skip his first class of the day, he bolted out of bed and rushed to get dressed, worrying that someone would take his seat next to Toph.

(or worse, she wouldn’t even notice)

He nearly ran all the way across campus.  Heart pounding, he snuck through the doorway as the professor lectured on and slipped into his usual seat next to Toph.  She lifted her head; something he couldn’t quite place flashed over her face.

(relief?)

“Finally decided to show up, huh?” she whispered.

He started to explain himself, but stopped short, deciding on a better way to embarrass himself.  “Yeah.  I got caught up trying to figure out why you’re so good at this class.” 

“Did you figure it out?” 

“It’s because you don’t take anything for granite.”  He looked over to catch the way the corner of her lips tugged upwards through the taken-aback look on her face.

“That was awful.  Don’t do that again,” she hissed at him.

“Okay, okay,” he conceded, chuckling to himself.  “You know what I would’ve been if I hadn’t shown up today?” 

“What’s that?”

“A skipping stone.” 

The irritated expression she wore intensified, fending off the smile he so desperately wanted to see.  “Seriously, you have got to stop doing that.  I don’t like puns, especially when they’re that bad.” 

“My sediments exactly.”  He almost expected her to hit him, but was delighted to hear a giggle escape.  A warm feeling spread through his chest and he knew then that he would spend every last moment he had for the rest of her life trying to make her laugh again.

***

“You guys!” Aang exclaimed, slamming the door to Sokka’s apartment closed a little harder than he had meant to.  He continued into the living room, all but throwing himself onto the couch next to Katara without so much as a “hello” to her, Sokka, or Suki.  “I had the most amazing date today.” 

Sokka looked up from where he sat, getting his hair braided, between Suki’s legs.  “You had a date?  With who?” 

“Was it that girl from your geology class?” Katara asked. 

“Yes!  Her name is Toph and I finally got her number and we’ve been talking, like, non-stop,” he blurted all at once.

“Slow down!” Katara giggled.  “Are you going to tell us about the date?” 

“Right, so I’ve sat next to her in geology since I’ve been wanting to do better in that class.  That’s been a bad idea as far as paying more attention, but spirits, it’s been the best.  I was almost late this morning because I slept through my alarms.”  Seeing the admonishing look on Katara’s face, he added, “I actually got up as soon as I realized and went to class, don’t worry, Momtara.  Anyway, I got to class just as the prof was starting the powerpoint, and when I first walked in, I was worried someone else might have taken the seat next to her that I’ve been sitting in, but no one had.  And she actually seemed like she was looking for me.  I mean, she can’t see, but still, when I finally got there and sat down, I swear it looked like she was happy to see me.” 

Not leaving room for Sokka to make a disparaging joke, Aang recounted the jokes he’d told her,

(which he definitely stayed up several nights in a row to come up with) 

how she’d acted like she’d hated them, but he’d caught her snickering a few times.  

“So you asked her out after class?” Suki asked.

Aang blushed and ran a hand through his short hair.  “Not exactly.”  He held up his hands in protest of his friends’ exclamations.  “I always walk her to her next class because it’s on the way to my dorm and I always want to keep talking to her.  Well, we get all the way to the Humanities building and she looks at me and says, ‘I don’t really feel like going to this class today.’” 

“She skipped class?” Suki asked with a mock-scandalous tone.  “Maybe you two are meant for each other.” 

“I know!” Aang said, ignoring the jab entirely.  “And, Katara, don’t give me that look.  I would have convinced her to go to class, but the opportunity was there and I couldn’t pass up taking her to lunch.” Grinning, he told them about how Toph had loosened up while they ate, even agreeing to try his favorite vegan restaurant in the main commons, how cute she was when she smiled at him.  She had even agreed to a study date the following night.

He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face when he asked, “So would you guys be okay if she came to hang out with us this weekend?” 

#ok sorry im on mobile the read more broke #taang #atla #taang week #taangweek #taang week 2020 #my fics

[pinnithin-writes]

The Valley

The beginning of an original horror I submitted for grad school. 4503 words.

A thin howl stretched lean across the New Mexico dusk. The desert was sleepy, its hot sand settling into a gentle cool like the ticking shutoff of a pickup engine. Porch lights flicked on in time with the stars as the town of Lonely Valley drew inside for the night. This was the hour of dogs.

Lonely Valley was a small town, a generational town, circulating bloodlines and traditions and ghost stories like the pinwheel of stars overhead, and its residents knew not to travel the old dirt roads late at night. Stay inside, leave a light on, let the tumbleweeds pass by, and sweep the paw prints off the porch when the sun comes up.

Jude Garcia knew the whispers, the stories that passed from mouth to ear to mouth across grocery lines and over glasses of whiskey. He was born here, had grown up here, and would likely die here, with Guadalupe County clay permanently under his fingernails. It was later than comfortable to be out walking. The scent of sagebrush sighed in on the cool wind as he crunched down the road toward his house.

He was safe, probably. Safe for now. Even with the distant sound of dogs wailing from the desert beyond, he knew how to avoid them. He remembered his mother’s advice, and her mother’s advice, and so on. Don’t look over your shoulder. Don’t shine a light in the dark. Don’t worry, don’t worry, don’t worry.

And, if all else failed, run to the inn.

Jude didn’t have much to worry about. At least, not much more than the average resident of Lonely Valley did—stuck in the middle of nowhere, living in a rut of habit so deep it was impossible to climb out of. Shitty cell signal. Shittier roads. He jammed his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans, using the emerging moonlight to guide him as he trudged home.

No, he wasn’t worried, just frustrated. He’d already settled in for the night, kicking his feet up on the ottoman to watch Seinfeld reruns when he remembered he’d left his phone at his workstation. A couple beers in, he didn’t feel up to drive, and the thrift store was only a few blocks away, as everything was in Lonely Valley. So he walked, kicking up dry, dusty clay all over his jeans, goatheads embedding in the soles of his sneakers.

Darkness gathered quickly. He was almost home.

He wasn’t worried. He wasn’t. Concerned, perhaps, since he’d gotten the news of his sister’s condition earlier that week, but she was going to be fine. She was folded into the practiced hands of the Santa Rosa hospital staff, and she had a real job with real money in a real town, so she could afford it. Her heart was stronger than his, even with a hole in its tissues.

It was easy not to worry in the daylight, when the eggwhite sun burned hot on their heads. When the nearest beast was the toothy, painted dog sign at the visitor’s center. It was much more difficult now, with the cool air lifting his collar and his worrying forbidden through bloodlines.

A shift of dry sand, a panted breath behind him, and suddenly Jude was no longer thinking about his wallet or his job or his sister. He froze mid-stride on the dirt road, hair on his neck prickling. In the absence of his footfalls, only the sigh of wind and the chirrup of night creatures could be heard, but his heart rate climbed all the same. Don’t worry, he told himself, don’t worry.

Still, nothing came, so he kept walking, alert now to his surroundings. Straining to catch a long black tail, a reflected pupil in the dark. He stopped and started and stopped again, hearing the quiet snick of claws on gravel, or maybe imagining he heard it. His hand found the iron cross in his pocket, and he gripped it tight.

They were following him now. How could they not be, with the emotional racket he had been making? Jude worked his stride up to a faster clip, shoving away the cold pit of dread in his stomach. Squares of yellow melted out into the streets from the houses he passed, banding him with light and agitating the animals that pursued him.

The dogs didn’t like the light, didn’t like to be seen, sticking like tar to the shadows as their breath condensed on his heels. Jude Garcia whispered a prayer under his breath, guessing too late his faith made them hungrier.

There. His house. Leaning wearily in the darkness up ahead. A rush of air left him, and he fished in his jeans for his keys. A fumbled jingle rang out in the night, stopped short by the pair of eyes that met him on the front porch steps.

The black dogs of Lonely Valley weren’t necessarily dogs but something like them, with long legs and long ears and long red tongues hanging from their pointed jaws. They kept to the shadows so their limbs could not be counted, and one could never quite be sure of how many eyes they had, twin rings blinking white and watchful from the dark.

Snarls and snaps came from the surrounding night, and he realized he was encircled by a whole pack of them.

He ran.

---

Ramona used to tell people she knew the desert better than she knew her own mind. Growing up, this had always been the case—she’d spent hours in the sagebrush and sand, learning the names of the wildlife, the sound of the wind, and the smell of an infrequent storm rolling in from the west. She knew every rock in Guadalupe County and every creature that lived underneath them, and she did not know herself.

At eighteen, she’d since stopped saying this, as it was no longer an impressive boast but a sad fact.

This was because she was a Lopez, and every Lopez knew Lonely Valley intimately but were strangers to themselves. This was so with her two brothers, father, and her mother, she assumed, though she never knew her. The four of them lived and worked at the Black Dog Inn, hub of Lonely Valley—or, at least, that was what the sign said. The red and blue neon still worked even after seventy years, flickering and humming out hope in the canine darkness.

On most mornings, Ramona would sweep up the dust in the front lobby and knock the spiderwebs from the corners of the rooms, but today was unusual because they had a guest. This was heralded by a pounding on their door around ten o’clock last night, when the moon was thin and the night was close and purple, and Jude Garcia had come tumbling in their front door. Ramona and Luca, her younger brother, had been working the front desk—if chucking a stress ball back and forth over the counter qualified as working—when it happened.

It wasn’t the first or last time the desert dogs had hunted someone all the way to the inn. Their family had a reputation for protecting the townspeople and the secrets they ran from. Luca handled the guest—the patient, really—and Ramona handled the dogs. This was how they always did it, because Ramona was bad with people and Luca was bad with dogs, not necessarily because either of them preferred their respective duties.

She’d swung open the screen door and rang the old iron bell the animals hated so much until they melted back into the darkness. They’d be back, but not for a while. When morning broke, safe and silent, Ramona made herself scarce while her father checked on the guest. Most often when they had visitors, they’d stay a night, recover in the morning, and return home safely that day, trusting the Lopez family to keep their secrets as they always did. Sometimes, when the dogs were especially hungry, the person they fed on would have to stay for weeks or months, remembering who they were, but that hadn’t happened since Ramona was twelve.

Sometimes, they never remembered who they were and wandered into the desert to never return. But that hadn’t happened in Ramona’s lifetime.

The town of Lonely Valley was nine square miles of nothing, cupped by shallow mesas furred up and down with juniper and pinyon pine. A train track cut through the landscape like a spinal column, whistling in the night in a mournful way that haunted visitors and comforted residents. Ramona and her brothers used to stack pennies on the rails and wait for the locomotives to come chugging through, fishing the flattened copper out of the wells between the tracks after they’d passed. Luca liked to claim these were luckier than regular pennies, while Ramona argued that luck didn’t exist and it was all science. When pressed, Dominic would say luck was something you made yourself, revealing a mysterious smile before pocketing his coin.

Dominic didn’t go down by the train tracks much anymore. He was busy trying to make his own luck by applying to jobs in places far away from the valley. His smile was reserved only for interviews, and it was no longer mysterious.

Places like the railroad were where Ramona tended to hang out in the summer, because adults didn’t feel much like picking their way through the briars and camelthorn just for a couple of parallel lines and occasional passing freight. Adults needed more reward for their efforts, like a fantastic view after a mindless, exhausting hike, or a business deal after a mindless, exhausting meeting. It wasn’t enough to just dwell amongst the larkspur in your sunhat and listen to the approaching chuggachuggachugga while a jay screamed. It wasn’t enough to just sit and be.

Ramona liked the railroad, and she liked the dump site on the outskirts of town with its overturned, out-of-tune baby grand, and she liked the Dollar General parking lot and its sun-buckled blacktop. She liked haunting odd, undesirable places, because no place was really undesirable once she got to know it. Ramona spent a lot of time getting to know places nobody wanted anything to do with, and often she found herself falling in love with them.

She was down by the tracks right now, in the shade of a pathetic, scraggly spruce, throwing pieces of gravel at the steel beams from a few yards away to make a ting sound. It was a few hours past noon, and her cuffed jeans were dusted with clay after digging around in the rail wells, nearly washing them the same color as her red-brown hotel T-shirt. It was originally a bright, cheerful scarlet, but the sand and sun had bleached it out to a fine dirt color, as it did with most things here.

Inez Ferro’s arrival was announced only by her shadow falling across Ramona’s line of sight. Ramona threw another rock, missed, and frowned. She watched the shadow curl against itself as Inez bent to pick up a pebble of her own. A flick of a wrist in her periphery, and it went sailing past Ramona to ping solidly against the rail.

Some people, when they said they were born in Lonely Valley, really meant they were born at the hospital in Santa Rosa forty miles away. When Inez Ferro said she was born in Lonely Valley, she meant the bathtub in her parents’ double wide, because her mother didn’t believe in hospitals or medicine or anything else that wasn’t mentioned in the fat leatherbound Bible she kept on her nightstand. Inez had come screaming into existence seventeen years ago and hadn’t stopped screaming since, meeting the world with knives in her boots and sharpened knuckles. Her mother called Inez her prickly pear. Her father called Inez dead weight.

Inez didn’t much care what others called her, so long as they kept out of her business. What Inez did with her spare time only made sense to Inez, and the people who got along with her best were those who had given up trying to understand her. Once, Inez told Ramona she was her worst friend by far. Ramona wore the sentiment like a badge of honor.

Inez’s voice was low and rough as the wind in scrubgrass when she asked, “They got another one?”

Ramona let the rest of the rocks in her hand fall to the dust at her feet and turned to look at her. Inez was staring at Ramona with a dark, piercing stare that always looked accusatory, even when it wasn’t. The bones of her shoulders stood out where she cut the sleeves off her black graphic tee. Pointy thumbs hooked in her belt loops. Inez was always taking a knife to her appearance, hacking away her hair and slicing through her jeans. Ramona tried not to worry about what else Inez’s blades touched.

“Mister Garcia,” Ramona affirmed.

“That guy who works at the thrift shop?”

“Yeah.” Then, as an afterthought, she added, “He’ll be fine,” even though she knew Inez didn’t really care.

“You’re feeding them tonight,” Inez said, sharply. Everything about her was sharp—elbows, fingers, smile. It wasn’t a question.

Ramona gnawed on her lip as hot wind blew in her face. “You can come,” she answered.

Inez was very good at appearing disinterested when she was in truth very interested, but because Ramona had spent years digging into her mind, she knew what the glint in her eye meant. To her credit, she managed to pull off a lackadaisical shrug that almost looked casual. “Sure. Didn’t have any plans otherwise. I mean,” she paused, smirking, “unless you count being a general delinquent.”

Ramona snorted, recalling her older brother’s choice words for them. In all reality they should have been spending their evening being general delinquents. This was their last summer here in the sun-baked valley of their hometown before their final year of high school, and after that they were expected to apply for colleges or join the military and move away. Each graduating class got a little bit closer to escaping, but a few always remained, either for familiarity or bad luck’s sake. Ramona knew she’d probably be one to stay behind and was almost certain Inez would skip town as soon as she turned eighteen.

She wanted to make the most of their last summer together, kicking around in the dry riverbed and making fun of Elliot for his accent and getting chased away from the gas station by Miss Barela and her broom. Biting down on the inside of her cheek, she looked away, her throat suddenly tight.

“I’ve still got to pick some stuff up,” she said once she’d dragged her facial expression back to something manageable. She rattled the bag over her shoulder, jostling the railroad spike and the copper coins inside.

“I’ll help,” Inez intoned.

“Sure.”

It wasn’t fair; Ramona was never allowed to offer her own assistance to Inez, whose mouth would cut until Ramona backed off. But she wasn’t about to open old wounds now.

Loaded down with supplies, Ramona and Inez’s hike back to the inn concluded with soft guitar music on the porch. The setting sun bathed the adobe walls and a pair of dusty boots kicked up on the railing a warm red. Ramona recognized the voice crooning from her porch swing immediately. It blended sweetly with the soft plucked chords.

Was a cowboy I knew in south Texas

His face was burnt deep by the sun

Part history, part sage, part mesquit

He was there when Poncho Villa was young

And he'd tell you a tale of the old days

When the country was wild all around

Sit out under the stars of the Milky Way

And listen while the coyotes howl

At this, the singer’s curly head tipped back and he let out a loud “awoo!”

The distant song that answered him was too long and lonely to be a coyote, and it made the hair on the back of Ramona’s neck rise.

The best place to hide secrets was in plain sight, and this held true for the desert dogs of Lonely Valley as much as any other secret. A hundred miles north of Ruidoso, the town didn't get much traffic beyond the pronghorn herd that clouded in and around Guadalupe County, so it sold itself on ghost stories to turn a profit. Many residents who didn’t work in the city peddled whispers and worries alongside T-shirts and trinkets to any travelers passing through. The long black dogs that fed on feelings were a curiosity of the town, a charming oddity that drew road trippers off the highway for a tamale and a picture in front of the town sign.

Local shops had paw print keychains at the register next to the little trays of geodes, and the cashier would smile and wink when their total came out to $6.66. Ramona was particularly fond of the gas station tees that read “Don’t Eat Your Feelings” printed over a dog silhouette. Visitors were warned not to stay out past dark in Lonely Valley, and they usually didn’t, because there was nothing fun to do in Lonely Valley past dark, anyway.

This left a small, curious minority of ghost hunters, vloggers, and conspiracy theorists who hungered for the supernatural. The Lopez family buffered these visitors as best as they could, though often their curiosity was sabotaged by local teens making noises in the dark, freezing their blood to ice with a bucket, a stick, and some creative mimicry. Most of the morbidly nosey cleared out after a night in the Russian olives with only the moon for company.

That is, save one person, who prickled Ramona like a burr stuck to her sock. Elliot James.

He was a Lonely Valley resident only by technicality, living with his aunt in the summer while his musician parents went on tour. He flew back to Austin every fall when school started up, to clean the dirt out from under his nails and forget about the desert for nine months, and for this crime Ramona habitually disliked him.

Inez, however, enjoyed his company because he was loud and weird and lovely and her parents hated him. She let him in on the secret of the desert dogs when they were fifteen, and Ramona had eventually forgiven this discrepancy after several months of seething. She didn’t care if Elliot tagged along anymore—he had proven his value to the creatures of the night with the lovesick collection of B-sides he could strum on his acoustic.

The dogs loved him. Sometimes, perhaps, more than they loved Ramona, which was another obstacle of dislike she was working on clearing. It didn’t help he held an uncanny ability to show up all over Lonely Valley unannounced and uninvited.

“Lovely night for a hike!” Elliot said in lieu of greeting, silencing the still humming strings of his guitar with a flattened palm.

He smiled sunnily as Ramona ascended the porch steps with Inez trailing behind her. Elliot James was handsome in the way a well-made armoire was, warm and loved and handcrafted. He was the only outsider who was welcome in Lonely Valley because he disarmed and charmed in equal measure with his lovesick songs and his starfield of freckles. Elliot dropped his boots to the deck with two solid thunks as he stood, angling the neck of his guitar aside to bump knuckles with Inez as she joined them on the porch.

Ramona crossed her arms, determinedly resistant to his charm. “I guess you’re coming too, huh?”

Elliot’s smile was unwavering. “Oh, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Lonely Valley’s favorite tourist rounded out the trio of teens who kept the desert dogs fed. Ramona still wasn’t sure why her father had so willingly accepted both Inez and Elliot into the fold when he himself had never been permitted to bring along friends growing up. But perhaps that missed childhood opportunity was the reason.

Inez leaned against the railing, studying Elliot. “You sure? Last time you cried.”

Elliot pressed a dramatic hand to his chest, feigning insult. “And? It was helpful, wasn’t it?”

Ramona shifted the bag she carried to her other shoulder. “I’ve just gotta grab some stuff inside, and we can go,” she said. Her eyes fell to the acoustic Elliot carried. “I hope you're bringing the guitar.”

Elliot patted the polished wood good-naturedly. “Her name,” he corrected without venom, “is Winona. Of course I’m bringing her.”

Swinging through the screen door, Ramona left her friends to wait on the front porch. She tried not to think about how similar her name sounded to ‘Winona’ in his voice.

---

The sagebrush snagged at their ankles as they climbed. Ramona’s rucksack banged against her back, and dust caked beneath her fingernails. This last scramble was short but strenuous, pulling at the tendons in their calves, grabbing at their shoulders, beckoning the climbers back to the safety of the valley. The dog-sounds that cradled the hikers sent tremors through their ranks.

Mesa Luna was a sacred place, if only to the shivering pines that crested it and the children traipsing to its summit. It was built upon rumors and rattlesnakes, and its sharp, thin line on the horizon was the sun’s eternal hurdle to jump. It was a giant at night, blue and looming. Standing atop its siltstone table, Ramona always felt cosmic—detached in a way—like Lonely Valley and Mesa Luna and Ruidoso and Guadalupe County were all just meaningless labels for a cupped handful of miracles. Here, the land didn’t have names; the night creatures sang, and Ramona Lopez was one of them.

Generation to generation, each member of the Lopez family found their own way to feed the hounds. Emilio used to drive his battered white truck out to Holy Point and play a fiddle on a schedule kept like clockwork. His mother Gianna before that sank to her knees in Wolf Creek, shivering out prayers until the surrounding dogs were satisfied. Her mother preceding her sat on the back porch of their very inn, reading stories out loud to the quiet, panting night, a gentle flirtation with nightmares.

Ramona climbed to the top of Mesa Luna and frightened herself.

In the most recent years, she had helpers, but prior to that she would scale the tallest Ponderosa that hugged the cliff face and lean out over the rocky riverbed below. With nothing between her and the ground but the cool, empty air, Ramona would cling to her nerve and the tree bark while her heart threw itself against her ribcage. And the dogs would gather below her, hungry and expectant, until it was time to disperse.

These days, it was different. These days, it was a little easier on her heart. Ramona had been hesitant to allow Inez, and later Elliot, to join her out under the swathe of stars, but now it was a comfort. This was no longer a lonely ritual built to scare her soul. This was a commune with the gods, and Ramona did not know or care whether those gods were the creatures of the night or the three teenagers who ventured into it.

The three sat together in the dust around an empty fire pit that had lain cold since the annual burn bans rolled in. Ramona carried a walking stick with an iron nail driven through the bottom, wood grain worn under generations of fingers. A lacework of satin ribbon tied in knots of threes sat against Inez’s collarbones. Elliot kept sprigs of rosemary and dried chili peppers in his pockets.

They could sense the dogs nearby in an eruption of goosebumps on their arms, the hair rising on their necks. Ramona meticulously unpacked her rucksack and withdrew what she needed. Copper pennies, tossed in a circle around them. A dogeared book of Anne Carson poems. The industrial flashlight her father kept in his pickup. And the old iron bell, just in case, the clapper wrapped in cloth to keep it silent.

The dogs could draw near, but they could not make contact. There was debate among Lonely Valley residents if the talismans and the pennies and the prayers said in triplicate did any good. A trick of the light, of the mind, a placebo to keep the thoughts from wandering. The Lopez family straddled the line between arguments. If it worked, did it matter if it was real or not?

Ramona angled her chin to Elliot, speaking in a low voice. “You wanna start this time?” Behind his shoulder, she could see a pair of round white eyes watching from the surrounding ink. The animals were hungry.

Elliot’s smile was not as sunny as it had been on the porch of the Black Dog Inn, but he made a valiant attempt as he fingered a chord on his guitar and strummed.

I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger

Traveling through this world below

There is no sickness, toil, or danger

In that bright land to which I go

I'm going there to see my Father

And all my loved ones who've gone on

I'm only going over Jordan

I'm only going over home

And so it went. Each took their turn leaving offerings, feeding off one another’s emotions with as much voracity as the dogs fed on them. They crooned and cried and sang and the dog’s voices joined them. Ramona recited passages from the book that made her heart ache. Inez chilled them to the bone with a ghost story and a Zippo under her chin, making the dogs flicker on the edges of their vision.

The animals circled and drank up their feelings, genuine heart song rising on the mists of their breath into the air. When it came time for them to disperse, the moon was a cold, bright point overhead. Sated, melting ink stains, the dogs were there and then were not, their absence noted by the warming of the night. The tension ebbed from the trio’s shoulders.

Quiet lay the valley. The town was at rest once more. Ramona never felt more alive than she did during these times; this was in her blood and her nerves and every particle of her heart, and though she did not know herself, she knew where she belonged.

#ink #the valley #fiction #horror #mystery

[just-some-fiction]

Just You and Me Part 39

This could be a possibility now that the feds are in town. We shall see. What does Rio get up to when he’s laying low?

Rio was always on the go, always busy and making money. However, there was some heat coming from the feds recently, which forced him to be holed up at home. He was not going to put his employees or family, or the higher ups in danger. The upside to his current situation though, was that it somehow coincided with Lucia’s maternity leave. 

Even though all of this was out of his hands, he still had to come up with a plan B. He had a family to feed and was the main boss. Within the first week, they figured out a system that ensured that one of their businesses was still generating a profit - herb would always be in high demand and it was as legit as they could be, without any extra interest from the FBI. 

Another part of laying low that he enjoyed was the time he got with Lucia. Yes, sometimes they'd need space, but they gave that to one another. With that being said, it was nice being in the same area as his wife for the majority of the day. They’d do their own thing while lounging on the couch, Lucia would read a book in his office while he went over his books or they’d spend time as a family of four, seeing as Marcus was off from school as well. Currently, Rio was on a phone call with Mike and Mick, while bouncing a cooing Alex in his arms. He was leaning back in his office chair, his feet propped up on his desk, with Alex laying on his chest, fascinated with his tattoo. The infant stared at her father with wide eyes, her hands tugging in his beard and lower lip. Prying her hand out of his mouth, he kissed her palm, causing her to laugh. 

A few minutes later Lucia walked into the office to get Alex for her feed. The infant showed her discomfort as Lucia plucked her off Rio’s chest and moved to the couch. Her fussing ceased when Lucia brought her to her chest. Rio finished up with his call and turned to his wife. 

"Hey," joining her on the couch he threw an arm over her shoulders as she nursed. 

"Everything ok?" he nodded watching his daughter feed. 

"Yeah."

The only downfall was the difficulty of sneaking away. For a sexually active couple as the two of them - they have two beautiful children as evidence - celibacy was not an option, however, with said two children constantly around, their sex life took a hit. Not able to handle it any longer, Rio cornered his wife in the pantry one afternoon, hoisting her against one of the shelves. 

“Gotta be quick,” he mumbled against her lips as he tugged her skirt up and pulled himself out of his sweats. Lucia said nothing, simply pulling him closer, deepening their kiss. 

Rio was thrusting into her at a furious pace, they had to be quick before either one of their kids needed them. Lucia was gripping onto his shoulders with one hand and the pantry shelf with the other. Her husband's face was buried in her neck, breathing heavily into the skin. 

"Si papi," she mewled, "just there," her nails dug into his shoulder, "I'm coming," her body shuddered, her hips convulsing. 

Before he pulled out of her, he growled, "Tonight, I'm hitting it the way I want, aight," Lucia nodded, pulling him in for a kiss, moaning as he pulled out, "ima hit it so good."

Later that afternoon, she jumped him in his office as he was finishing a call. Shutting the door, she made her way to his desk and sat in it directly in front of him. Their little tryst in the pantry opened a gate and Lucia was not going to close until they had their fill.

"Those products can be delivered through mail order," he placed the phone on the desk next to her, hitting the speaker button. Spreading her legs and seeing her bare pussy in front of him, Rio licked his lips. The man on the other side continued speaking, but Lucia was so far gone as her husband ate her, she wouldn't be able to tell you who was on the other end of the phonecall. 

Every now and then, Rio would pull away and answer the person, before diving back in. A few moments later the call ended and he sank his teeth into her inner thigh. Pulling away, he watched the skin turn red and smirked. In a flash he got up and positioned himself in front of her. Lucia moaned as he filled her and soon they were going at it on the desk. 

A few days later, Lucia tried something Chuck told her about, which was trending on TikTok. Marcus and Alex were spending a few hours with their Abuela so the couple were all alone. Rio on a  Zoom call with his crew about a new business venture when she entered the office wrapped in a towel. Her husband looked up and she saw his eye twitch slightly when he saw her. He kept his face neutral as she walked towards him, obviously she knew better than to sit directly next to him though. Standing out of the way, she pulled the towel off and threw it onto his lap. Suddenly, the sound of Mike choking on something came through the speaker, while Mick cursed in Spanish. 

"You two are grown ass adults," Jake groaned, it seemed everyone besides Rio, knew about this trend because he simply looked over at his wife then at his boys on the screen. 

"We'll finish this later," he signed off and looked at his wife, who was completely nude. Lucia, who didn’t expect the guys to react that way, didn't really know what to do next. Her husband got up, his brow furrowed and mouth slightly parted as he stalked towards her. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips, his eyes focused on her body. He stood behind her and cupped her pussy.  

"Why you gotta misbehave?" he growled against her ear, "Interrupting my business to do childish things," he slapped her ass, "suppose to be my good girl," he bent her over the desk, "good girls don't get wet cos they misbehave," he dragged his fingers through her wetness, before sinking two fingers inside of her, "tell me what I'm missing about this whole lil act that everyone seems to get mami," she felt him spread her ass cheeks, the cool air hitting her center. 

"It's a TikTok challenge," she explained the trend to him while he fingered her from behind. 

"So you did this to get dicked down huh?" he chuckled, pulling out his phone, snapping a pic of his fingers inside of her, "My little exhibitionist, somethings don't change do they?" 

Lucia squealed in surprise as he lifted her up and onto the desk. The rest of the afternoon was spent wrapped up in one another. When they were done, somehow having fucked their way to the couch, Rio picked up the discarded towel and threw it over their waists. Lucia was laying on top of him, placing kisses over his chest, while he stroked her back. 

“You still ok being holed up in the house?” she looked at him, knowing full well her husband was not someone who could stay locked up. 

“I am,” he looked down at her, “the house helps,” he sat up slightly, resting his back against the armrest, “besides I get to spend time with my girl,” he smirked, “don’t get to do that too often anymore.” 

They both knew that was true. Since everything that’s happened, from the moment those housewives came into their lives, their time together has been limited. So they were gonna make the most out of this time and enjoy themselves. Lucia snuggled into his chest, her arms wrapped around him. Rio wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her gently, placing a kiss against her head. 

Outside of their sexual activities, Rio got to spend more time with Marcus and Alex, something he was grateful for. Most mornings the couple would be woken up by the seven year old wiggling in between them, just as Alex started to fuss in her crib. The family of four would spend the morning in bed, with Alex resting against her mother or father’s chest while Marcus played with her. They usually have breakfast and then Rio would disappear into his office to do some work, with Marcus following him with his own work, which consisted of colouring books and crayons, or something else to keep him entertained. 

They seemed to have a routine going. However, as life usually does, there were curveballs involved as well. One day, his mother, sisters and Chuck turned up at their front door and Rio had a deja vu moment. Lucia shook her head when she saw the ladies and the look on her husband’s face. 

“You not getting out of this one,” Gabby smirked, “he had enough practice with Marcus,” she jerked her head towards her brother, “he can handle two kids.” 

“It’s not that,” she sighed, sending her husband a look. 

“You can bang him when you get back,” Mia spoke up, earning her a slap upside the head, yet again, from her mother. 

“Amelia Ramirez,” Yolanda snapped. 

“What,” she looked at her mother, “mama they have two kids and had sleepovers since high school,” she raised her eyebrows suggestively. 

“Get out,” Rio groaned. 

Lucia kissed her husband, “See you later baby.” 

Just as the front door shut, Alex’s wail rang through the house. Rio made his way to the bedroom to check on his baby. Picking up the infant, he held her against his chest. 

“I gotchu princessa,” he swayed her gently and soon enough, she settled causing him to smile, “definitely your mama’s child.” 

Realising the house was a bit too quiet, he went searching for his seven year old, who recently started conducting unsupervised experiments in the kitchen. They were going to have to restrict some of the science channels Marcus watched on YouTube and TV pretty soon. 

“Pop no,” Rio groaned, walking into the kitchen and finding his son with vinegar and an entire contained of bicarbonate decanted into a vase. 

 Marcus had the decency to look guilty before he started pleading his case, “Jane’s mom let her do it and she said it was really cool.” 

Grazing over the fact that his son was not going to let go of his friendship with Jane Boland, Rio took stock of the items on the kitchen counter, “Pop we spoke bout this,” he sighed, “you need your mama or me with you when you try these things.” 

“Can we try them now?” Marcus grinned, knowing he had more luck getting ay es from his dad that his mom.

“Aight pop,” Rio placed Alex in her baby recliner and made his way over to his son. 

Two hours later Lucia walked into her house, relaxed and calm. Her day was stress free and she realised while she was thirty minutes into her neck, head and shoulder massage that she really needed the break. What she didn’t need though, was walking into her kitchen and finding green sludge splattered across the floor. Standing in front of her washer family who were all covered in the same green sludge, including her four month old, who was laughing in her baby chair.  

Rio looked at his wife and smiled, “Hey baby,” he tried to be as smooth as he could, “how was your day?” 

Deciding she was not going to deal with this and ruin her day, Lucia smiled at her husband, “It was lovely babe,” looking at her son, “did you and Marcus have fun almost destroying our home?” 

Before Rio or Marcus could say anything Lucia continued, “This kitchen better and my children better be spotless when I’m done with my bath.” 

A while later a very sheepish Rio into the master bathroom, “You ain’t allowed in here if your ass is still green,” Lucia spoke, her eyes closed and head resting against the tub, “and if your dick is green we defs not having sex baby.” 

“There’s no green anywhere,” Rio chuckled. 

“Where’s the kids?” 

“Mia came to pick Marcus up for a sleepover,” he knelt next to the tub, “then I fed Alex and put her down for a nap.” 

“Who said crime bosses aren’t great babysitters?” she teased. 

“I ain’t no babysitter,” he splashed her, “I’m a dad.” 

“Get into the fucking tub baby.”

#rio good girls #rio nbc #good girls nbc #nbc good girls #lucia solano #lucia x rio #mick good girls #mike graceland