#trick shots because he's out there TO PUT ON A SHOW thanks for clarifying this for us man (BUT THEN HE GETS SCARED WITH BIG POINTS

[archoniluthradanar]

A Halloween Terror Fest with the Volturi masters : a Volturi one-shot

A Halloween Terror Fest with the Volturi masters : a Volturi one-shot

Holidays with the Volturi masters series

Volturi masters x Reader

(remember that in the Summer fun with the Volturi masters series of one-shots, the reader is now mated to Marcus. Also, not all trips with the masters are trouble free)

oooooooooooooooooooo

Aro has called for you to come to the throne room because you're told he has something to ask you. When you get there, you see the three masters, including your mate Marcus, sitting on their thrones. You run up the steps to his side and kiss him, making a facial expression that silently asks him 'What's going on?'. You see him shrug in reply.

"My dear, will you come over here please?" Aro asks of you.

"Yes, Aro. Of course." You walk over to his chair and see he is reading a white card.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asks, holding the card out to you.

You reach out to take the card from Aro. Seeing it is an invitation, you can't help but smile. "This should have come to me, Aro. It's from friends in America. I couldn't very well give them my exact address, so used general delivery. Just call me 'resident'."

"It appears to be an invitation, but to what, my dear?" he asks.

You look down for a moment, trying to figure out how to describe the reason for the invitation. "Aro, there is a holiday in America called Halloween."

Not surprised, the Volturi master explains, "It is celebrated here as well, more in recent decades."

You look askance at Aro. "Do you celebrate Halloween?" you ask, thinking it would be interesting if vampires celebrated the holiday, the day when the lines between the living and the dead blurred. But you believe Aro and the others are not dead.

"Of course not, but it has caught on among humans who look for any excuse for a party. There is generally a festival in the piazza for the children and their families, but why would we attend?"

"Why, indeed." You look down at the Volturi, clarifying. "Aro, this is an adult party with costumes and dancing and food. And a few tricks, I imagine. A friend of mine who has a little money is putting on the party at her modest mansion in California."

"And you would like to go." Aro stares at you, knowing the answer before you can respond.

"Well, yes, since Marcus will soon be changing me, and I'll no longer be able to share my world with you nor will I be able to see my friends."

"Not meant as an insult, I do understand your love for childish doings, dear one."

"Oh, but adults have taken over, and they enjoy their own form of festivities." You give him your version of puppy eyes, and you smile when you see him relent with his typical overdramatic sigh.

"Very well, send a reply to your friends. Tell them we will all be there, along with our mates. Just give the secretary the details and I will see to the jet to get us to America, and a limousine that will await us at the nearest airport..."

"LAX," you pop up. "That's the Los Angeles airport."

"Very well," Aro says.

"And um...you and the wives will need costumes. Couples...costumes."

Aro laughs. "Costumes. It might be fun after all."

"I can show you an online catalogue so you and Caius may choose, with Sulpicia's and Dora's input as well."

The master who sees himself to be in charge waves his hand. "Yes, yes, of course. Now you go with Marcus and make your own choices. Thank you, my dear, for sharing your very human experiences with us." He kisses you on your cheek and sends you off to the secretary in the reception area.

As you leave the room with Marcus at your side, you hear Aro muse aloud to Caius, "What costumes shall we wear?"

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

In the early morning on the day of the party, you and Marcus meet Aro at the foot of the staircase leading from the tower rooms, and wait for the others to join you.

"Aro, you look fabulous as the Mad Hatter," you tell him while you walk around the vampire leader. "Your face is already suitably pale, and the colour around your eyes is to perfection. The wig is just right, and the costume..."

"Yes, yes, my dear, I look wonderful." He gives you a grin, satisfied, if you are.

"You did watch the videos I saved for you?"

"Of course. I know how to act the part. I will be splendid, you'll see."

Marcus stands behind you, his hands on your waist. You can hear him inhaling your scent, so you lean back against him.

"You look so handsome, my love," you tell him, looking up at him over your shoulder. "We make quite the Roaring Twenties Italian mobster and his moll, don't we."

Unable to help himself, Marcus leans in to kiss your neck, sending goosebumps down your arms. "You are a delightful vision yourself, my heart." After Marcus kisses you, you turn within his embrace and throw your feather boa around him, drawing him even closer.

Just then, Caius comes downstairs with his mate, Athenodora, on his arm.

"Caius, you're going as...vampires? Gothic vampires? Seriously?" you exclaim. You have to admit, the Goth look plays up their natural beauty. Dora looks so different from the woman you know her to be.

"Yes, how do you like it? I thought it would be easier to pretend to be what we are, vampires. We won't have to wear contacts for one thing."

"Well, actually you do look quite attractive." You sigh at the tempting picture Caius makes, but go to his mate, giving her a sisterly hug. "Dora, you look absolutely beautiful, a perfect match for Caius. I see you both found suitable wigs, and the black costumes suit you." Dora is attired in a long black dress, her hair now a burgundy colour. Caius wears a black suit, the jacket long but not quite to his knees. He has donned a black wig as well which you think is perfect.

You peer closer as you admire them, now noticing a strange affectation. "Caius...fangs?"

Pulling them off, he replies, "And here I thought you'd like them. It would have been easier if we had fangs, so we would not have had to glue these on," he groused. "They may last a while since they're made of porcelain, but eventually the venom will make them unwearable." He tucks them into a small box where another pair sits, with a small bottle of dental glue. He then gives Dora a kiss. "Sei una vera bellezza, amore mio."

"Well, you both look perfectly dark and menacing," you say, seeing a cold smile form on Caius' face. At least he's happy with his choice in costume, you think. Has the usually blonde vampire ever been so hot?

You are luckily distracted by Sulpicia descending the stairs. Aro goes to wait at the base of the staircase, holding out his hand for his mate. "You look delightful, my sweet," he says, bending over her extended hand, kissing the top. Then he pulls her close and kisses her naturally red lips.

Sulpicia cups Aro's face with one flawless hand, whispering, "Il mio compagno perfetto."

You wait for the couple to finish greeting each other, then go to her. "Your costume is perfect, Sulpicia. You really look like the Alice of Wonderland of the film, and I adore the stuffed bunny." You smile, rubbing the soft stuffed animal she carries. You give the vampire queen a kiss on each cheek. "Your wig looks marvelous as well, but I love your beautiful brunette hair."

"As do I, dear, but this is just a costume. Doesn't Aro look splendid though." She openly admires her mate, who smiles back at her.

You rarely see Aro and Caius with their mates. It pleases you they actually seem to care about each other. Having no desire to upset either wife over the familiarity their husbands have taken with you, their displays of affection make you feel better.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The flight to Los Angeles is a bit long, but you visit with the wives, play chess with Marcus, and also eat and nap, something the vampires do`n't need to do. On touchdown, a limousine is waiting for you. You look out the window at the passing scenery, missing America. The car reaches the Bel Air area, spotted with mansions that rival the palazzo you now call home.

When you arrive at your friend's house, everyone gets out to be greeted at the double front doors by their hosts.

"Tracy, it's so good to see you," you say with excitement as you hug your friend and her husband, David. You introduce them to your companions, glad it's dark out, but they easily hide behind their costumes.

Once inside, you're shown to a small ballroom where music is playing, courtesy of a DJ. Your friend leads you to the buffet that makes you hungry all over again, but of course, it doesn't appeal to the Volturi. Still, they have already managed to enthrall your friends and their guests with their vampiric allure.

"They are a bit strange, but I like them," she whispers to you.

You laugh, but say, "They're quite influential back home. And I am completely in love with my fiance Marcus."

"Pleased to meet you, Marcus. You must make my friend very happy. I see it on her face. I'm so happy for you both." She gives you another hug, then says, "I had better go greet the new arrivals. Please, enjoy yourselves and as always, my friend, make yourself at home. I have missed you."

You slide an arm around your mate. "She likes you," you say proudly, smiling.

The music infects not only you, but the five Volturi as well. As if free for the first time in a long while, they are enjoying mixing with humans. You hadn't heard one crack or complaint from them, not even Caius. The wives were definitely taking pleasure in being admired by the male humans around them, even dancing with a few they consider worthy. And yet, neither Aro nor Caius appear jealous. You were afraid at first, but everyone is just having fun. You remind yourself to thank them later for their restraint.

The song 'Slept so long' from the film Queen of the Damned comes over the speakers. You didn't think any of the vampires in the room had seen the film. You're surprised the DJ has such a mix of music in his repertoire, but you love it. A slow jazz one song, hard rock the next.

Your feather boa is draped around your neck, your long cigarette holder in your hand. You start to circle Marcus, attempting to show him that you can seduce him with your own form of aliure. You shimmy your hips as you dance, parts of your dress moving with you. You see his eyes darkening and tone back. It would not do to have him take you here on the dance floor.

Later, during a slower dance, Marcus holds you just tightly enough, as you both twirl on the floor. You looked up into his temporarily brown eyes, smiling. Your mate had not left your side all evening, even when you told him he could dance with others.

"Marcus, I noticed the others are dancing and talking with the humans here. Why don't you mingle?"

"I am content to be with you, my heart. There is no other for me." He leaned in to kiss you deeply, making your heart beat faster.

You look across the room to see Caius speaking to a woman while Dora dances with a human male. When you see Caius bare his fake fangs and lean into the woman's neck, you stepped back from Marcus and walked quickly over to the blonde vampire, crying out his name.

"Caius, don't!" By the time you get there, Caius and the woman are staring at you like you're insane.

"Sister, what the hell! I was only teasing with this woman. I wasn't really going to bite her," he hisses.

The woman in Caius' arms laughs nervously. "I had better go find my husband. It was a pleasure to meet you...Dracula." She left quickly, not looking back.

"Dracula, indeed! Sister, you ruined my fun, and almost drew more attention to me than if I had bitten her."

You apologize to him. "I'm sorry, Caius. It just looked like...from over there, it seemed...I'm so sorry. I should trust you more."

Marcus came up behind you, placing his arm around your shoulder. "Is everything all right here?"

"Yes, Marcus, my fault. I guess seeing you all acting so normal around humans, I keep expecting a shoe to fall." You give Caius a kiss on his cheek. "Forgive me?"

"Of course. Just relax. I won't harm any of your friends' guests, I promise." He gives you a smile and wink.

"Thank you, Caius." You hear a loud series of cackles, and turn to see Aro entertaining a small group with his typical humour. He is the Mad Hatter to perfection.

"Marcus, can we get something to drink?" You and your mate head for the bar, where you ask for a glass of wine. Without warning, the lights in the mansion go out. You smile, thinking it's just a prank being played by your hosts.

In the darkened room, Aro and Caius, along with Sulpicia and Dora, flash over to you. "Something is very wrong, my dear. Stay near our mates. Marcus, guard them."

You start to speak, "Aro, what is going on?", but he and Caius are gone, having flashed to the other side of the ballroom, safe with their speed before the humans' eyes become accustomed to the dark.

The party's hostess comes over the loudspeakers and asks everyone to stay in place, that there has probably been a circuit breaker overload due to the amount of power being used. But when you look up at Marcus, he subtly shakes his head. You lean into him, suddenly afraid.

Marcus sniffs the air. "I smell the stench of wolf."

"A werewolf?" you ask, holding onto your mate, your eyes peering blindly into the dark.

Guests are staying close to each other, their voices murmuring in confusion. The doors to the patio fly open when two bodies hurl through them. Caius is in his vampire clothing, now torn but he is minus his cloak, while the werewolf has his hands around the vampire's throat. Aro is close behind, attempting to come between the two battling creatures.

By now, the guests think that this is a show being put on by their hosts, and begin to cheer for one or the other of the combatants. Aro's hat has fallen off his head, hiding his identity. All the group sees is someone in a werewolf costume fighting two men.

"Marcus, is this...real?" you ask, holding onto his arm. The wives are also holding each other's hands, their eyes showing fear for their mates.

"Should we warn our hosts?" You fear Aro and Caius will fail, and the werewolf will look to the guests as victims. Your life with the Volturi has made you aware the world was not what you thought, and the supernatural was real.

"No, it would be best to let them remain in ignorance. Aro and Caius will take care of things." Marcus can see clearly the advantage his brothers have over the single werewolf. The animal is missing an arm, but is still able to inflict damage on his vampire attackers. Growls are heard outside, but you can't tell who is doing the growling.

"Our presence must have drawn it to this place," Marcus says. "Now you see they are real, my love. Caius was nearly destroyed by their kind long ago."

When someone flashes to your side, you think it is Aro or Caius, but your vision clears enough to see it's a stranger's face looking at you. "Marcus?"

Your mate is back at your side, gently pushing you behind him. "Who are you and why are you here?" Marcus demands, knowing this man to be one of them.

The nomad explains, "I am the one the werewolf was hunting. I hid in this place after seeing the lights and crowd, and borrowed this costume."

"Did you kill the owner?" you hiss at the stranger through gritted teeth. You hear no reply. "You should be out there fighting the beast, not our coven members!"

You see your friend coming into the ballroom with several flashlights, handing them out. "Marcus, this needs to end. We can come up with some excuse or sneak out in the dark."

"They've taken the creature outside. It will be destroyed, the evidence gotten rid of." Marcus notices the nomad has vanished and tells you. He hears Aro taking care of him, removing the head easily before tearing his limbs off the torso. They can't light a fire so near the mansion, so instead, make sure the body parts are buried far apart.

"In any case, we have got to get out of here too," you say, while watching your friend.

Now that the "entertainment" is apparently over, the crowd breaks up, many heading for the bar.

You hear Aro talking near you. "The car is waiting out front. We should depart now." No one argues, and all six of you head for the front door before your hosts notice you're leaving.

Once you're in the limousine, you assess the damage. Aro has cracks on his face and arms, while Caius is missing a hand.

"Oh my god, Caius, you're hurt!" you exclaim. You see Dora is already helping him, ripping the sleeve of his costume, letting him bathe the end of the dismembered hand with his own venom where he will press it to his arm, Dora ready to wrap it firmly with the torn fabric.

Knowing his life had almost been lost at the hands of one of these creatures, his courage impresses you, since it was Caius who first threw himself at the creature.

Caius sees the way you look at him. "This is my mission. It never ends, not until every last werewolf is destroyed. The fact I eradicated another one gives me great satisfaction, sister."

"And what about the other vampire, the nomad," you ask.

Aro kisses Sulpicia's hand that has been stroking his face. "That one will be no bother to anyone again."

You're proud of your new brothers for having saved your friends' guests. You see them as heroes, even if they aren't particularly fond of humans.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The private jet takes off from the Los Angeles airport, allowing you to feel relief. You're sure Tracy will wonder where you have gone, but once you're home, you will never need to explain anything to her. You will probably never be returning to America again.

You sit on the long sofa, your mate's arm around you. Marcus smiles when he feels you snuggle into him. You watch as Dora pampers Caius, and Sulpicia is sitting next to Aro, their hands joined. You are tired, but everything worked out, you and your family are safe, and you're on your way home.

"I'm sorry for what happened, Aro...Caius."

"Do not worry, my dear," Aro tells you, feeling like a contented victor. "We have not had such excitement in a very long while. It validates our existence."

"Is my life always going to be this exciting?" you ask Marcus, your breathing more relaxed.

"I think not, but if it keeps you occupied, I will see what I can do."

You smile and sigh, nestling against Marcus, your eyes closing.

Marcus sees your smile and kisses your temple, letting you sleep as the jet heads home for Volterra.

A/N : Thanks for costume ideas from @Sparklybuildingsdesign88 -Marcus and his mate as a Roaring 20s gangster and his moll. And @Kimvolturicullen -Caius and Dora as a vampire and his mate, and Aro and Sulpicia as the Mad Hatter and Alice.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

#the volturi #volturi fanfiction #aro volturi x reader #marcus volturi x reader #caius volturi x reader #Halloween

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 3

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous →Part 2

Next →Part 4

Never before had you dreaded something more than you dreaded arriving for work the morning following your incident with Keishin. More than anything, you hoped he was thoroughly pissed at you and had left for work early that day so that the two of you wouldn’t have to see each other, but much to your displeasure and horror, when you stepped into the store that morning, he was sitting at the front counter, waiting for you.

How was he not pissed at you after what you had said to him? 

When the sound of the front doors sliding open filled the otherwise silent building, leaving the keys in your hand useless as Keishin had already unlocked the store, you gripped the keys tightly and swallowed hard when he looked up at you. He didn’t say anything at first, maybe because he was waiting to see if you would make the first move, but after last night you were done making first moves when it came to him.

Averting his gaze and dropping your head low, you shoved the keys back into your pocket and headed for the back room to put your stuff away and get this day over with. 

Just as you were about to open the door to the back room, Keishin cleared his throat and you stopped in your tracks, head turning to look at him without thinking about it. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” This was the very first time he had greeted you first, and on top of that, the very first time he had ever used your name. 

You weren’t sure how to respond, confusion and excitement mixing in your body to create an overwhelming concoction. “Good morning,” you mumbled in response before disappearing into the back before he could do anything else out of the ordinary, like God forbid initiate a conversation or something.

You took your sweet time getting ready, delaying heading out to the front of the store as long as possible to give Keishin ample time to leave. After about fifteen minutes or so, you emerged only to find him sitting right where he had been before, newspaper sprawled on the counter and a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Shouldn’t you have left by now?” The questioned slipped past your lips before you even had the chance to filter it through your head.

Eyes wide, Keishin was surprised that you had spoken to him almost as much as you were. “We’re expecting a big delivery today, so I’m sticking around,” he answered. “You’ve never handled one by yourself so my mom asked me to show you how it’s done.”

Your heart sank, your stomach twisted, your knees felt weak. So he was going to be here with you all day long? “Perfect,” you groaned, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm in your tone. “That’s just awesome. Great.”

“Listen, it’s not my idea of an ideal day either, but it is what it is,” he said. “So why don’t we just put last night behind us, chalk it up to exhaustion and the influence of alcohol on my part, and move forward?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, the fact that you couldn’t seem to figure him out thoroughly starting to irritate you. “How are you not angry at me?” you questioned him. “I was . . . horrible last night.”

You had spent the entire night after getting home thinking about the horrendous way you had behaved. The things you had done and said made you feel awful and you couldn’t understand how Keishin wasn’t on the brink of smacking the shit out of you right now.

“It’s fine.” He flashed a smile, trying his best to prove that he wasn’t dwelling on the past. “I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

Looking around to double check that the two of you were the only ones in the store, you lowered your voice before speaking. “But I put my hands on you. You can really just forget that?” Heat swelled in your cheeks as you recalled the less horrible events that had taken place.

“I touched you too,” he reminded you.

“Yeah, but yours was an accident.” You weren’t sure why you were saying all of this stuff; it was almost like you wanted him to be angry at you. Who knows, maybe you did. “I called you a burnout.”

Keishin let out a booming laugh at that. “Take a good long look at me, kid.” He smirked, gesturing to himself. “You really think I’ve never been called worse?”

“I don’t think that’s the point,” you breathed out.

Keishin opened his mouth to speak, but before he let a word out, he changed his mind and pressed his lips together. In the meantime, he watched you, the cogs in his head obviously working hard. “You’re an odd one, you know that?” He stood up, walked over to you, and set a hand on your shoulder. “I said it’s fine, so just forget about it, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, finally giving in. 

“Good. Now, get to work, because this place isn’t going to run itself and I’m only here to help with the delivery, so until then, I’ll be napping on the couch in the back. Wake me up when the truck gets here.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Keishin gave you a pat on the head and disappeared into the back room without another word.

You stood in place for a moment, unsure if the fact that he had forgiven you so easily was a relief or not. You didn’t allow yourself to worry too long about that though, because, like Keishin had said, you had work to do and the store wasn’t going to run itself. And, if your memory served you correctly, you had some sweeping to do in the back corner.

For about two hours, you fell back into your normal workday routine, completely forgetting about the events of the previous night or the fact that Keishin was napping in the back. That was, until you saw the delivery truck pull up in front of the store and remembered you had been given the task of waking the sleeping man. 

Heading into the back, you moved slowly and quietly even though it didn’t matter if you woke Keishin since that was what you were supposed to do anyway. 

“Keishin,” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. “The delivery truck is here.”

Of course, he didn’t even budge at that. Nervously, you stepped closer to the couch, unable to ignore the fact that Keishin looked completely different when he was asleep. The usual frown or cocky grin he sported was nowhere to be seen and he didn’t seem as intimidating when his eyes were closed and his breathing was so slow and rhythmic. 

“Keishin.” You reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder like he had done to you earlier and shook him slightly. Still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you were unsure what to try next aside from shouting right in his face. If only he had warned you he was a heavy sleeper. 

Deciding to try one last thing before you resorting to screeching, you leaned closer to his ear, planted your hand on his chest—a brief memory of how you had touched him last night flashing in your mind—and shook him once more while you spoke. “Keishin, the delivery truck is here,” you said, not whispering but also not being too loud.

Thankfully, the mixture of shaking him and speaking directly into his ear seemed to finally do the trick and his eyes shot open. Immediately, you jumped back, not wanting him to be weirded out by how close you were to him. 

Eyes travelling up to meet yours, Keishin yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “Truck’s here?” he clarified.

“Yeah, it just arrived,” you told him, waiting for him to get up. “You should have told me you were a heavy sleeper. I was about to scream or pour water over you or something.”

Keishin cringed at the thought of that. “Well, thank goodness you didn’t. Next time, just pinch my nose or tickle me or something . . . anything but water.”

“Next time?” you asked. “You plan on taking naps on the couch often?”

“It’s my favourite place to nap. You should try it sometime,” he said before heading for the door. “Come on, let’s get this delivery over with. Try to learn fast so I don’t have to teach you again.”

“I’ll try my best.”

As you had pretty much expected, the delivery had been pretty straight forward. After helping the delivery man unload all of the boxes into the storage room and signing off on the delivery, the most time-consuming and complex part of the process was taking an inventory of the new supplies, which you picked up on pretty quickly. 

Keishin showed you how to mark down the new delivery on the clipboard kept in the storage room and where to input the total count for each item. From there, all you had to do was make sure you had received everything and had the correct number ordered. 

“Pretty easy, right?” He glanced at you out the corner of his eye as the two of you worked together at counting the inventory, keeping an ear open for customers in the process.

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem hard. Just time consuming,” you agreed. 

“Exactly. We usually get a big delivery like this about once a month, then smaller deliveries throughout the week for more perishable items, as you already know.”

You nodded, quickly becoming lost in the repetitive task of counting and writing down the amount on the clipboard. Weirdly enough, you found that you didn’t actually hate taking inventory; the simple task was actually kind of calming and passed the time effortlessly. 

“50,” you muttered under your breath, jotting down the number in the correct box right after you finished counting. When you turned back to start on the next box, you caught Keishin looking in your direction. “What?” You furrowed your brows at him. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“You,” he responded, quickly elaborating when you shot him a confused look. “Well, more specifically, why you took this job.”

You shrugged as you continued working. “I already told you. I need the money.”

“Right, so you can move out on your own. But why?”

Your hands stopped grabbing items and your mind stopped counting, making you lose track. “Because I’ve been waiting for as long as I can remember to live my own life and now that I have the opportunity, I’m not going to pass it up.”

“But wouldn’t you much rather be going to school? Surely you don’t want to work in a place like this for the rest of your life.”

You sighed heavily. “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

“I’m just curious,” Keishin said. “I want to understand you better.”

“I don’t think you could truly understand unless you experienced the childhood that I did.”

Stopping his work as well, Keishin leaned against the shelf and crossed his arms over his chest. “Try me.”

Rolling your eyes, you accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to give up. “First thing’s first, I’m not saying my childhood was tragic or anything. My parents didn’t beat me. They fed me and clothed me and everything a parent should.” You started, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “I was just never allowed to live my own life or make my own decisions. I ate what my parents wanted me to eat, I wore what they wanted me to wear. I took the classes they wanted me to, I was friends with who they thought would make a good friend. They went overboard on trying to get me to do what they thought was best for me. I was never old enough or mature enough to know what I really wanted. I lived in a controlling dictatorship.”

“What about soccer?” Keishin asked, proving that he had actually remembered the conversation the two of you had had on your first day at the store. “You told me you used to play.”

You smiled fondly at the thought of your high school soccer team. “That was the only thing I ever got to pick for myself . . . and it took months of convincing, and in the end, I was only allowed to continue because I was good at it. The fact that I genuinely enjoyed it never came into account for my parents.” Your smiled faded slightly. “Sometimes they even managed to drain the fun from that as well, but I refused to let them ruin it for me because it was the only thing I had that was mine.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Every day . . . but this is more important right now.”

Keishin was silent for a few moments while he processed everything you had said. “Sounds like everything needed to have a purpose.”

“Pretty much. If something had no chance of providing success in the future, it was a waste of time.”

“So the plan is to work so you can afford your own place, then go to school next year? How are you going to afford school?”

“Well, if I had followed my parents plan for me and started working toward a law degree, they would have paid for it. But since I’ve decided to do my own thing now, I’m just lucky they haven’t kicked me out of the house yet . . . so I guess I’ll have to get a scholarship or apply for student loans. I’ll basically be scraping by, so I’ve applied for a bunch of community colleges and I’ll go from there I guess.”

Fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, Keishin lit one before sticking it between his lips. “What do you want to do?”

You laughed slightly at that. “I have no idea. I was never allowed to have hobbies or interests, so I don’t even know what I like. I just know what I don’t like. If I could do anything though, I’d apply for the University of Tokyo. They have a great soccer program. I just want to play soccer again.”

Keishin smiled. “Just soccer?”

“For now, yeah. I’ve learned that I’ll have to take life step by step, so that’s the first major goal. I’ll probably take some first year classes and see what I like and go from there. I think it’s okay to not have a set-in-stone plan sometimes . . . after all, this is the first time in my life I’ve never had my future planned out for me. It’s kind of exciting . . . scary, too, but exciting.”

Keishin sighed contently as he watched your eyes light up when you talked about the things you wanted to do in the future. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“So what was the point of what happened last night?” he inquired. “And, while we’re at it, the past few weeks as well. How do I fit into this grand plan of yours?”

You felt your heart pound against your chest. “I thought we were forgetting about last night?”

“We are,” he assured you. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just curious, is all.”

You thought for a moment, unsure how to phrase exactly how you were feeling. At first, you were inclined to take him up on his offer to not answer, but after how nice he had been to you today, you felt you owed him at least that. 

“Originally, I was in a pretty messed-up head space and I wanted to use you to get back at my parents,” you told him truthfully, “. . . but after last night, I did some serious thinking and realized that wasn’t the case. What I really want is to prove to my parents that not everything that is different or ‘not according to plan’ is bad. You have an  . . . alternative look about you,” you tried to phrase that as respectfully as possible, causing Keishin to chuckle, “but you’re not a bad person or, despite my harsh words last night, a burnout. You coach volleyball for high school kids and you help out at your family’s store and even though I’ve been pretty horrible to you, you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

You paused, unsure if you should say the last part or not. “I don’t know, I just think that maybe if they met you, they might realize that I’m capable of making good choices for myself even if it doesn’t fit their predetermined mold of my life.”

“You think I’m a good choice?” he asked, taken aback by your honesty.

“Yeah.” You eyed him while he took a drag from his cigarette and let the smoke spill from his lips. “Maybe not the nicotine addiction part, but hey, no one’s perfect.”

Keishin chuckled before putting his smoke out. “Okay, I’ve got a deal for you.”

You cocked a brow at him. “What?”

“If I pretend to be your boyfriend and help you fix things with your parents, you have to apply to the University of Tokyo and follow your dream of playing soccer.”

You were thoroughly perplexed. “Both conditions of that deal only really benefit me. What do you get out of it?”

He just shrugged. “Nothing.”

You scoffed. “Well, as generous and sketchy as that sounds, there is no way I would be able to afford the University of Tokyo on my own and I don’t think any amount of ass-kissing could make my parents agree to pay for me to go there to play soccer and figure life out.”

“Hey, one step at a time, right?” He used your own words against you. 

You contemplated his offer for a moment. “You’re really okay with that? Even though you get nothing but more work out of it?”

“I suggested it, didn’t I?”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “You’d really pretend to be my boyfriend? Even though I’m just some rebellious kid?”

“Your opinion of me changed,” he pointed out. “Why can’t my opinion of you change too?”

“Fair enough,” you conceded. “Well, if you’re absolutely positive you won’t regret it when you wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll happily accept your deal. Thank you.”

Keishin turned back to the stack of boxes and promptly returned to the task at hand. “You’re welcome.”

You watched him work and quietly hum to himself while he did so. This time, it was his turn to catch you staring. “What?” he looked over at you.

“I just didn’t peg you for such a softy is all,” you joked. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he scoffed at you. “Just don’t fall in love with me or anything, kid.”

You smirked. “Whatever you say, old man.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #ukai keishin #ukai keishin x reader #ukai #lostinthewiind #piss off your parents #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #song fic #part 3 #haikyuu smut #series

[mypoisonedvine]

Can u pls write something like dark!reader x steve rogers high school AU , where R is rich spoil brat & she always had a crush on steve but she always bully him by calling him skinny and all and Then yrs later, time changes her family discarded her from will and she becomes poor and need job, got hired for PA by dark ceo!steve rogers who she bullied her all school lifee😈😈

okay this is a lot for a headcanon but I don’t have time to do a whole oneshot BUT I also really like it so we’re gonna just make a longass headcanon here we gooooo

warnings for heavy dub con, choking, slapping, degradation (by steve), bullying (by the reader), abortion mention, brief mention of/implied assault.

“heyo pipsqueak” you called out to get steve’s attention, laughing when he frowned.  “looks like you grew a whole inch over summer, be sure to have your mom draw a line in pencil on the doorframe.”

he just rolled his eyes and got back to chatting with his friend.  not friends, friend, cause he only had one: bucky, who snarled at you as well.

“pick on someone your own size, if you can find somebody with as big a head as you,” bucky shot back, making you scoff.

“you know, it’s a shame you hang out with this deformed freak, you could’ve been popular.  you’ve got the looks for it.”

“I’d rather keep my brains, thanks,” bucky explained as you walked away with your posse of fellow popular kids.

you didn’t used to be so mean to steve.  it was sort of a comedy of errors, really.  you two had been friends in elementary school-- you, him, and bucky were the rambunctious trio up until middle school.  

things change for boys and girls in middle school.  guys just get along with each other and don’t think about it much.  girls, though... girls need to be sharp.  it’s eat or be eaten.  and you wanted to eat.

you were lucky that you developed early.  it meant that girls respected you and boys feared you-- not just for your attractive features but for the fact that you loomed a foot over most of them.

you started to take advantage of it.  and by the time you realized you had feelings for your best friend steve, it was already too late-- he was at the bottom of the food chain and you were at the top.  

you told your new girl friends that you wanted to take steve to the sadie hawkins.  they laughed at you.  for a moment, you felt what it was like to be outcast and you never wanted to feel it again.  so, you told steve and bucky that you’d grown apart.  and you were happy to just be former friends...

it was steve that started it.  he called you out.  he told you that you were nothing like who he used to know-- you had become vapid and cold and narcissistic.

“you’re so busy worrying about what other people think, you never take the time to think for yourself.”  that was what he said.  and it fucking hurt.

“saw you talking to your boyfriend steve the dweeb,” your friend tanya announced at lunch just a few minutes after that conversation.  and you were angry, and hurt, and truly friendless despite being surrounded by other popular girls.  so you said some things you could never take back.

“steve?  as if.  did you know he still sleeps with a security blanket?  and he has his friend bucky fight for him every week cause if he took a punch he’d crumble to dust?”

and so, mortal enemies were formed.  it only got worse in high school, as you fought to secure your title at the top while steve and bucky’s presence filled your heart with guilt and your gut with anger.

if only you’d known how quickly you could fall from your high horse.

it started when you dated tanya’s ex, brock.  she was made so she spread a rumor that you would fuck any guy on the football team, even all of them at once.

apparently, a lot of people believed it since tanya had been your sidekick since 6th grade.

two football players believed it.  and when you wouldn’t follow through on it, you got yourself a black eye.

that meant you missed school for a week because you couldn’t possibly show up looking like that.  tanya told everyone it was because you got grounded and sent away to church camp after your parents caught you in bed with one of the neighbors.  so now your reputation was ‘sleeps with football players and old men.’

only brock had been there for you.... but it turned out he had motives of his own.  you had originally planned to wait until college, but brock was clearly wanting something in return for putting up with dating pariah #1... so you let him take your virginity.

the condom broke.  when you dashed to the trash can to hurl in the middle of history class, you knew something was wrong.  (and lost that many more social points in the process.)

brock dumped you the second he found out you were pregnant.  didn’t even help you pay for the abortion.  he got back together with tanya and told her the real reason for your ‘medical absence’.  and that was the last straw for the former homecoming queen.

the humiliation drove you to some.... poor choices, for the next few years.  you tried not to think about them now, but it was hard not to when their consequences were staring you right in the face: no money, no job, nearly homeless, and desperate.

over a hundred job applications later, only one had called you back and scheduled an interview.  and you only needed one.

so there you were, waiting in the chilly lobby area while the receptionist typed away and chomped her gum, tapping your toes and glancing out the window occasionally.

you were surprised when you had been told your interview would be on the 51st floor.  you sort of assumed it would just be some random manager interviewing you, not somebody important enough to have a waiting room like this, or a view like this.

when a man stepped out from the nearby hallway, your eyes went wide.  he was tall, and handsome, and obviously muscular underneath the exquisite suit.  you suddenly felt underdressed in your hand-me-down business clothes.

then he called your name.  and you realized he was going to interview you.

you stood up and nodded.  “you can follow me to my office,” he instructed with a smile, leading you down the hall to the corner office.  you were in awe of the grandiosity of it all.  you were dumbfounded when you saw CEO on the door.

“there must have been a mistake,” you explained as he shut the door behind you.  “I... I’m just interviewing for an entry-level position.”

“no, there’s no mistake,” he shook his head, “I have you exactly where I want you.  take a seat.”

he circled his desk and sat on the other side of it, resting his elbows on the desk and giving you an oddly smug smile.  an awkward silence was finally broken when he realized, “you must not remember me.”

“I... have we met?” 

“I don’t blame you, I look pretty different,” he shrugged.  “I must’ve grown a whole inch this summer.”

you gave him a confused look before realization dawned on you, along with shame, and fear.

“oh... oh my god, Steve?!” you squawked.  he just grinned.  “you look... you look...”

“taller?”

sexy.

“you look great!” you said aloud instead.

“yeah,” he agreed, “wish I could say the same for you.”

you swallowed dryly.  “so that’s what you want,” you sighed, “to get back at me.  I understand.  I deserve it...”

“I don’t want revenge,” he denied.  “I’m just sorry to see you haven’t been... thriving, since high school.  your job history--” he scanned your resume briefly-- “well, you don’t have one.  have you been slumming it all this time?”

“without my parents’ money?  yeah,” you admitted.  

“surprised you applied here, instead of turning tricks on 5th and Columbus.”

your back straightened and your eyes went wide at that comment.

“I mean, you’re already dressed for it,” he smirked.

you stood up and crossed your arms.  “if you’re just going to insult me, then I’ll leave now.  I’m sorry for everything I did to you, steve,” you announced, voice shaky with oncoming tears.

“can you really afford to leave?” he pressed.  “if you have a chance at a job?”

that, unfortunately, got your attention.  “you... you might actually offer me something?”

“I will offer you something,” he corrected, “if you just sit down and listen.”

you relented, returning to your seat.  you could stand a lot more insults if there was money on the line.

“to be honest, there’s no way I can hire you for the position you applied for,” he sighed.  “you’re just underqualified.  but I think I can create a position for you.”

you liked the sound of that.  “what kind of position?”

“well, that’s tricky, seeing as you don’t have any skills,” he frowned, “except one.  so that’s the one I plan on using.”

the look in his eyes made it all too clear what he was referring to, but as you shrunk into the leather chair he went ahead and clarified.

“I’ll pay you whatever salary you saw in the ad.  but you won’t be doing data analysis or office management or anything like that.  all you’ll be doing is spreading your legs for me whenever I fucking want.”

fear shot up your spine; his eyes were devouring you, pinning you to the chair, and you tried to process that.  “I--”

“before you say anything,” he interrupted immediately, “let’s just be perfectly clear that this might be your only shot at a real job.  what I’m offering has better pay than stripping, and better benefits than hooking.  and unless you have any education or experience I don’t know about, you’re totally fucked.”

“seems like I’m fucked either way,” you mumbled, making him laugh.

“see, you’ve still got that sharp tongue,” he grinned.  “can’t wait to put it to better use.”

maybe it was just desperation for cash.  maybe it was because he was good-looking and you could do a lot worse.  maybe it was because, on some level, you felt like you deserved his punishment after how horribly you’d treated him.

“I’ll do it,” you sighed.  “when do I start?”

he stood up and reached across the desk to grab your neck, glaring at you.  “right now.”

his free hand was already fumbling with his belt, the one on your throat guiding you downwards.  “on your knees,” he instructed, and you slipped out of the chair and onto the floor.

he let go of your neck and you figured he was going to come to you, but instead he stood still and demanded: “crawl.”

debasing as it was, you crawled on your knees to his side of the desk, and he laughed at you bitterly.  when you reached his feet and popped back up, you gasped at the sight of his hard cock right in front of your face. it was bigger than your face.  and it was dripping precum.

“don’t get so bug-eyed, you can handle it,” he grinned.  “if your mouth’s as big as I remember...”

you didn’t want to hear any more.  you just wanted to get this over with, so you quickly took his head between your lips and started to suck.  you were shocked when he slapped you, hard enough to knock his length from your mouth and to make you reach up and clutch your stinging cheek.

“fucking whore,” he grimaced, “did I say you could put it in your mouth?  god, you’re so fucking desperate.  just open your fucking mouth and I’ll show you what I want, okay?”

you nodded and stammered an apology, looking up at him with watery eyes and an open mouth.  he swiped the latest drop of precum on your tongue before gliding his cock over it, grabbing your hair to keep you steady as he pushed himself to the back of your throat.

“fuck, that’s better,” he sighed.  “so much better when you just do what you’re told.  I remember how you used to be so cruel with this mouth.  now you’re being so welcoming...”

you just sat there and let him use your mouth, trying not to gag when he hit your throat.

“look up at me,” he instructed, “yeah, that’s it.  can’t have you forgetting who’s doing this to you, now can we?”

that went on for a bit longer until mascara-stained tears streaked your face, which he seemed rather proud of.

“damn, wouldn’t mind having you swallow my come right now,” he admitted, “but I have bigger plans.  get up, bend over my desk.”

you coughed briefly when he pulled out, but did as you were told.  he instantly yanked your skirt up over your ass and spanked you several times roughly, making you sob and whine.

“wanna see this ass all bruised up in the shape of my hand,” he explained.  “so we can both remember how hard I fucked you.”

he tore your panties like they were paper, chuckling when he found you already wet.

“dripping already, just from choking on my cock?  poor baby...”

you spread your legs slightly, though you were sure nothing was going to adequately prepare you for his size.

“you figured out how to use birth control since graduating, right?” he asked, and you nodded quickly.  “good.  cause I’m not using a condom,” he continued as he let his cock glide over your folds, groaning slightly, “and there’s no way in hell I’m pulling out.”

he pushed forward in one brutal stroke, making you cry out loudly.  you really hoped these rooms were mostly soundproof.

“shit, you’re tight,” he hissed, already pulling back and thrusting back in.  “clearly you recovered from your years of slutting it up in high school.”

“that-- that wasn’t true,” you defended.

“oh, just shut up,” he growled.

he fucked you fast and deep, his hips pushing yours into the edge of his desk with each thrust.  his hands pinned you down at your shoulders, another reminder that you were entirely at his mercy.

“fuck, this is just what you needed... somebody to put you in your place.  makes sense that it should be me, since you hated me so much.”

“I didn’t h-hate you,” you hiccuped. 

“yeah, you wanted me, didn’t you?”

“always,” you admitted.

“wanted my fat fuckin’ cock to tear up your pussy?  is that it?”

“yes,” you moaned, “yes, steve, wanted to be yours.”

“even when I was skinny and short?”

“even when you hated me,” you added.

he growled slightly and you felt your walls tighten around him suddenly.  he chuckled, clearly aware that you were enjoying this.

“you want more, baby?  want me to fuck you harder?”

“whatever you want,” you answered instead.  “just use me however you want.”

he moaned and leaned down to cage your body in with his.  “fuck, baby... you’re taking this better than I thought you would.  such a good girl for me, huh?  such a good little slut.  want me to use you, baby?  take all my anger out on you?”

“yes,” you whispered, sobbing when he began to fuck you more brutally than you thought possible.  but it felt good.  so good that your legs were shaking, so good that you felt even better when he tugged your hair.

“yeah, gonna come on my cock, aren’t you?” 

you nodded and bit your lip.

“m’ close too,” he admitted, “you’re gonna be so full of my come, it’s gonna be dripping down your legs when you walk out of here...”

your orgasm made your body shake and your eyes roll back.

“fuck, I can feel you coming,” he groaned, “fuck, just like that-- fuck!”

you felt his warmth fill you as his cock flexed against your walls.  you were busy trying to catch your breath when he slumped down on top of you and pushed the air from your lungs.

“damn... didn’t think I was gonna come that fast,” he sighed.  “see what you do to me?  fuck, I knew this was a good idea.”

sure, it felt good, but you were sure he was only going to get rougher and meaner the longer this went on.  you couldn’t imagine how you were going to get out of here without somebody noticing your wrinkled clothes, messed-up hair and, as he’d pointed out himself, come all over your thighs.

“guess I’ll see you at 8am tomorrow, huh?” he chuckled, giving you an unexpected peck on the cheek.  you couldn’t answer, though, interrupted by the phone on his desk ringing.  “oh, sorry, gotta get this.”

he reached for the phone and picked it up, bringing to his ear all without pulling out of you or even lifting his body from on top of yours.

“bucky, hey,” steve grinned as he spoke into the phone, looking down at you and stroking your hair, “you’re not gonna believe who I ran into today...”

#dark!steve rogers x reader #ceo!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers hc #dark!steve rogers smut #Anonymous

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: Halloween

Summary: A casual Halloween night out for some drinks between the reader, TJ and Cody becomes anything but when the reader thinks she may have been drugged at a bar. When she calls Jensen for help, their relationship takes a fundamental change...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 6,100ish

Warnings: language, drinking, drugging, angst, fluff

A/N: This part takes place after the Jensen’s Day timestamp. Enjoy!

______

“Trick or treat!” said Allie after your dad answered the front door in a batman t shirt. 

“Well aren’t you the cutest little Elsa,” he said. He dropped a few big handfuls of candy in her bag and then a few more. He tickled Colin and got a laugh from him. “Colin you are the most adorable baby Yoda ever cutie and I gotta say...you ain’t a half bad Mandalorian, kid. You almost look tough or something.”

“It’s cause I’m a badass,” said TJ as he stuck out his chest.

“It’s cause you’re a nerd,” said your dad. You walked inside, Colin giggling as your mom stole him away without a second glance. “Nice costume though.”

“Y/N picked it out off some website or something,” he said. He sneezed and your dad shut the door. “God my allergies are killing me lately. Ragweed is horrible this year.”

“I know. De and I have been popping allergy meds the past few days,” he said. “You get it the worst.”

“Yeah but I started taking it like a week ago to build it up. I think it’s helping. Also, a bounty hunter and an adoptive dad? Mmm, peak man crush right there, babe,” you said, your dad rolling his eyes as TJ kissed your cheek.

“And what exactly are you supposed to be? A curtain?” teased your dad as you spun around.

“I thought I’d go another route,” you said. You took off your robe and he went wide eyed. “Soldier...girl?”

“Oh my God. You’re Solider Boy. That is so fucking cool!” he said as he looked you over.

“Jay, fuck’s a bad word,” said Allie. 

“And we don’t repeat bad words, do we,” said TJ. “De’s got some more candy for you somewhere I bet.”

She took off up to the TV room and your dad walked around you.

“What do you think?” you asked. “Look real?”

“Okay that’s like good. Like real good. It’s just like mine from the show. Like even the shield looks the same.”

“It’s from the show. Kripke sent it to me. I know it’s a little big for my back but I couldn’t not use it,” you said. “I took a long shot and asked him on Twitter about it and he just like sent me the thing. He was really nice.”

“Good,” he said as he looked you over. “I am impressed. You guys might win your costume contest thing at whatever bar you’re going to.”

“I just want to go drink,” you said, TJ throwing an arm over your shoulders. “We’ll be back around eleven, midnight?” 

“Go have fun. Mom and I’ll watch the babies tonight. Pick ‘em up in the morning,” he said.

“We didn’t pack bags for them,” you said. He stared at you and shook his head.

“You live a quarter of a mile away. We shall survive without you for one evening,” he said, pushing you both out the door. “Go have fun with Cody. I’ll see your hungover butts tomorrow, okay?”

“Don’t have to tell us twice.”

“Cody,” you said at the bar a few hours later. He finished off his drink and shook out his head. “Can you check on TJ? He’s been in the bathroom awhile.”

“Yeah. Order me another gin and tonic?” he asked.

“Can do,” you said. You hopped off your seat and paused for a moment, getting your bearings before you walked over to the bar. “Gin and tonic and another...graveyard…”

“Graveyard smash?” asked the girl behind the bar.

“Yeah. Another one of those. Oh and a bottle of bud,” you said. You handed over your card to pay, tucking it back in your shorts pocket. You brought the drinks over to the table, finishing off your margarita and the last of TJ’s old beer before you started sipping on the Halloween mixer. 

It took about thirty seconds before you realized what you’d done.

“Fuck,” you said. You pursed your lips and took out your phone, biting your bottom lip before you dialed.

“You better be drunk calling me,” chuckled your dad. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“The guys are in the bathroom and I just drank from a glass that nobody was watching,” you said. You shut your eyes and felt a little off, not sure if it was because of the already decent amount of alcohol in you or something else. “What do I do?”

“Go to the bar and sit there and don’t move. The boys will be back soon,” he said. You tried to move but felt wobbly and sat back on your seat. “Y/N, don’t hang up on me.”

“Dad, I don’t think I can walk over there,” you said. “I’m drunk but...shit I fucked up.”

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Um, the uh...the place to the right of Jared’s.”

“Okay. Sit there. I’m gonna call…” he said as you stared down at the bathrooms. “Y/N. Answer me.”

“I think something’s wrong,” you said. “The boys are taking too long.”

“Cody is a police officer and TJ is tougher than he looks. They’re probably throwing up or something,” he said.

“TJ said he felt funny,” you said as you stared at his glass. “What if it was in his drink?”

“I don’t know but whatever you do, do not leave your spot,” he said.

“But it’s TJ.”

“Y/N I’m having a hard enough time not freaking out right now. Please do not move,” he said. 

“Hey! Soldier boy!” said a guy walking by in a homelander costume. “Nice suit.”

“Can you do me a favor?” you said, the guy smiling as he leaned against your table. “My husband and friend went to the bathroom a long time ago and didn’t come back. One’s the Mandalorian and the other one is a zombie. Can you check on them for me?”

“Yes I can very drunk girl,” he chuckled. “I’ll be back.”

“Y/N, stop putting the phone down,” said your dad in your ear.

“Homelander’s going to look for the boys.”

“Your boys or The Boys?” he asked.

“Should I have clarified?”

“Just...I’ll be there soon. Don’t-”

“Boys!” you said, Homelander wandering back over with a very pale looking TJ and a wet Cody.

“I think your friends were puking in the alley,” said Homelander.

“Thank you so much,” you said. “You’re so sweet.”

“Mind if I get a pic? Your costume is kinda perfect,” he said.

“Not at all,” you said. You hopped off your seat and felt better. “Ah, okay. Just drunk.”

“Hm?” said TJ as you hung up your call and the other guy gave him his phone. “Hey there’s a starlight over there too.”

“Starlight! Come get your pic taken with the Seven, girl!” you shouted.

“She’s drunk,” said the homelander guy with a laugh. 

“After three of those graveyard smash things? Oh for sure,” said TJ.

Half an hour later you were onto another drink and TJ was fanboying over star wars with another guy in a Mandalorian outfit. Cody was talking to the starlight chick who was maybe in a relationship with the homelander guy. They were at least mutually pining for one another if they weren’t already.

“Morris. Come on. I’m drunk and even I can tell Kayla Starlight over there is dying for you to ask her out,” you said. He shrugged and you cocked your head. “Oh come on.”

“She’s been my best friend since I was like four. Like, I can’t fuck up twenty something years of friendship if she’s...how fucked am I?” he asked as you smirked.

“So fucked,” you laughed. “Trust me. I was besties with my husband for years before we finally talked about it. Sometimes you just gotta-”

“Why the fuck haven’t you been answering your phone?” you heard your dad say. You spun around and gave him a smile.

“Is that the guy that played-”

“Walk away kid. Now,” growled your dad. 

“See ya around, Y/N,” he said, Kayla disappearing with a wave with him. TJ spun around and your dad shot him a dirty look.

“What’d I do?” asked TJ.

“You three are glued to your phones yet tonight for some reason, you seem to have forgotten they exist. If you’d read a text then you’d know that she called me half an hour ago saying she thought she’d been drugged.”

“What?” Cody and TJ said, both of them staring at you.

“Fuck, Y/N I thought someone took you,” said your dad. You opened your mouth and he shook his head.

“She’s just drunk,” said TJ. 

“Well thanks for the update. You could have answered your phone,” he said. He glared at you and shook his head. “Don’t ever do that again.”

He left the bar and you slid off your seat, jogging outside, telling the boys you’d be back in a minute. There were a lot of people out for a Friday night and it took a second to find him in the crowd. 

“Dad,” you said. You caught up with him as he walked down the sidewalk. You tugged on his arm and the man spun around, very much not your father. “Sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“Nice costume,” he said and you stepped back into another body, your head swimming. “You gonna puke? Alley’s over there.”

You turned your head and jogged around the corner, spitting up your stomach with a big heave. You wiped off your mouth and sighed, getting up to your feet. There was a shove on your back and you got pushed further into the darkness, falling onto the dirt and gravel. You spun around on your bottom and saw the guy from before.

“Be more careful, kid. You’re tripping there.”

“You pushed me,” you grumbled as you stood up, picking up a rock in your fist as you went.

“You’re on something. You got that look in your eye,” he said. You narrowed your eyes and he walked forward, close enough for you to whack him in the head with the rock. He swore as he fell down and you ran back onto the street, jogging away until you got to a street corner and saw a familiar back of someone’s head.

“Dad,” you said, tugging on his jacket, relieved to find it was him this time. “Dad, there was-”

“I don’t want to speak to you right now,” he said. You swallowed and stared at him, his face hard.

“Dad. I-”

“You never hang up the phone with me when you call me like that ever again, do you understand?” he said. You stared at him and his jaw clenched. “Of course you don’t. You’re drunk.”

“Dad I’m not. I-”

“You smell like vomit,” he said with a scoff. You turned around and saw the man from before hanging back, shooting you a look. “Go back to the bar, Y/N.”

“Dad-”

“Would you just go?” he shouted. 

“Dad don’t. I need-”

“For fucks sake. Just go away.”

You let go of his arm, tears welling in your eyes. 

“Grow up,” he said. You stepped back, watching him walk across the street.

“D-Daddy,” you said. He stopped in the crosswalk and looked back at you, his gaze following yours over to the man. The man saw him look at him and took off back towards the bars when he saw your dad scowling. Your dad jogged back over to you, tensing when you took a step back from him. 

“No one’s gonna hurt you,” he said. He stepped closer and you squeezed your eyes shut. “Y/N. What’s wrong?”

“I feel funny and I’m drunk and I’m scared and I’m scared of you,” you breathed out. “You were gonna leave me alone.”

“Y/N-”

“You said you wouldn’t leave me alone,” you said. You stumbled over to a nearby wall and slide down it, your head in your hands. “Don’t leave me alone. You promised. You said so.”

“Okay,” he said as he sat down beside you. He kissed the top of your head and you heard him shudder. “You’re okay, munchkin, I promise.”

“How are you feeling this morning?” asked the doctor that walked into your room. 

“Tired,” you mumbled. TJ and Cody were there in their own stalls, still in their costumes, your dad out in the hall talking to someone.

“Your blood alcohol content was up there,” he said. “Especially you, Y/N.”

“I want to go home,” you groaned.

“You’ll be discharged shortly,” he said. You grumbled and half an hour later you were signing something that you could leave.

“Y/N,” said your dad as you walked away from the nurses station. You glanced over your shoulder, glancing down until he came over. “We need to talk about last night.”

“No we don’t. We got too drunk. I fucked up. Lesson learned,” you said. You started to head out and he grabbed your shoulder. “Jensen let go.”

“Y/N,” he said, spinning you around. He opened his mouth and you crossed your arms, shrugging him off. “I made a mistake.”

“I had to beg you to help me. I called you daddy I was so scared,” you said. He shut his eyes and you growled. “Look at me.”

He snapped his eyes up, his eyes a little red already but you were too angry to care.

“The only other time I’ve ever called you that, I thought you were dead on that road. I thought...I thought there was absolutely...I was drunk and maybe drugged and your reaction was to get pissed at me, at us, for not answering phones. A man tried to attack me and I got away because my dad told me to grab whatever I could if I was ever in that situation. There you were, the safest place in the world, the safest I could ever feel after something like that happened and you told me to go away. I was terrified and you could see it on my face and you left me. You made me beg for you to help me. I don’t know who the fuck you were last night but you were not my father. You’re Jensen again until he decides to come back.”

“Y/N,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Congratulations. You’re just like every other foster father I ever had.”

He stared at you and you turned around, walking past both TJ and Cody.

“Y/N,” said TJ and you kept walking. “Y/N. Jensen, she didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, I did. Let’s go TJ.”

One Week Later

The doorbell rang and you rolled your eyes, TJ walking past the couch and away from the door.

“TJ, can-”

“Tell him yourself,” he said, going to his office and slamming the door. You glared at it before going to the front door. You opened it quickly, your dad standing there in his raincoat and swallowing thickly.

“Is this about work?” you asked.

“No,” he said quietly.

“Then get off of my property.”

“Y/N-” he said as you slammed the door shut in his face. He rang the doorbell again and you ripped it open. “Honey-”

“I’m not your honey or kiddo or tall munchkin or anything, Jensen. This is me telling you that I want you out of my life,” you said. He lowered his head and you heard him sniffle. “I don’t give a fuck about if you cry. Get out of our lives. Stay away from my family.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he breathed out, forcing his head up. His eyes were red and puffy, face tired like it’d been that way for days. “I’ll do whatever you want. I promise.”

“You humiliated me,” you said, stepping outside and pulling the door shut. “I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” he said. “I love you so much you-”

“You don’t even know. Boo fucking hoo,” you said. He stepped back and looked small, rain dripping down on him now. “The real world sucks. Get used to it.”

“I made a mistake. Please,” he said. “Y-you don’t have to forgive me. You can...just let me try. Please. We’ve always tried. P-please let me try.”

You stared at him, watching him look down, watching him debate getting on his knees.

And it dawned on you what you’d done. What you’d said.

“Y/N, Y/N, honey,” said TJ. You looked up from the floor of your bathroom, your dad knelt down on your other side. “Honey, look at me.”

He grabbed your face and you felt wet tears streaming steadily down your cheeks.

“What happened?” you asked. “I was on the porch and now I’m here?”

“You were talking to your dad outside and he said you just...fell over crying.”

“Something’s wrong with me,” you said. You shut your eyes and TJ looked around.

“I’m gonna call the doctor,” he said. “Jensen can you keep an eye on her?”

“Of course,” he said. He kept his distance and you sniffled, opening your eyes. He looked down when you met his eyes and you started to cry.

“I’m sorry,” you said. You grabbed his arm and sat up on your knees, giving him a big hug. “Dad I’m so sorry. I love you. Please forgive me. Please. Please. I’m sorry. I want to be your daughter. I want my dad back. Please.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” he said. He relaxed and felt like himself again, your head resting on his shoulder. 

“Uh, guys?” asked TJ. You lifted your head up, TJ holding up his phone. “Y/N, I think I know why you freaked out on Jensen so bad.”

“How would the doctor know that over the phone?” asked your dad.

“There’s a recall out on a certain allergy medication warning people not to take it according to this headline,” said TJ. 

“Why would-”

“It’s not allergy medicine. It’s an antipsychotic drug. They mixed up the pills during manufacturing. Apparently if you give those to people that don’t need them, it fucks with their heads,” said TJ.

“You take them too,” you said as TJ nodded, your dad quiet. “Dad you and mom do-“

“I think we all better go to the hospital and get checked out. Right now.”

“How do you feel?” asked your mom a few hours later.

“My head feels normal again,” you sighed from your hospital bed. You opened your eyes, her hand running over your head. “Did I fuck it up. With dad. I think I broke it. That thing we had and it’s never going to fix back the same way.”

“You were on a very strong antipsychotic without you knowing. We are lucky all you had was some anger and a few delusions. It could have been much worse,” she said. “Daddy’s not mad, sweetie.”

“Mom I’ve never seen him like that. I was so…”

“Wasn’t just you,” he said as he rounded the corner into the room. He was out of his clothes and in a pair of pants and a plain t shirt now, holding up the bracelet on his wrist. “Why’d I have to get all the crying? I would have rather have been pissed off like you got.”

“Your test came back positive?” asked your mom.

“Yeah. So far that’s Y/N, me, TJ, Cody. The younger kids don’t seem to have it thankfully since they take the kid version. They want you to get tested though,” he said.

“But mom’s been normal,” you said as you sat up.

“Well…” he said as she rolled her eyes. “Mom’s been a little...aggressive in-”

“Don’t need to know,” you said. He chuckled and he took a seat on the opposite bed, your mom heading out. They hooked him up to an IV to clear out his system and he took a seat beside you on the bed. You looked down, getting a bump on the shoulder. His hand as on his lap, palm facing up and you smiled.

“Thatta girl,” he said as you rested yours in it. “Gonna take more than some antipsychotics to tear us apart.”

“You are the greatest foster father I’ve ever had and arguably the kindest human being I’ve ever known,” you said. He was quiet and you took a deep breath, looking across the room. “You protected me, even when you were being affected by this. I want you to forget everything I’ve said from Halloween night on. It wasn’t true. Not a second of it.”

“Was the daddy part true?” he asked. “The accident.”

“I expect you to protect me when TJ’s not around. I expect it when he is too to be honest. I spent a long time protecting myself. I was scared on that road. You couldn’t protect me. You couldn’t protect me from watching you almost die. I know how life works and that parents are not invulnerable. They get hurt. They get angry. They make mistakes. They’re human. But I’ll always be your child and on a rare occasion, I’ll need my fucking daddy to tell me it’s okay and I’ll believe him. I’m sorry for hurting him so badly.”

“You are still as ridiculous as the day you walked in your room and told me not to bother with you,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You can hurt me. You can destroy me. You can ruin me beyond repair. You’re the only thing that puts me back together though. Heals the wounds so I forget they existed. I’ve been broken before. More than you know. I am sure I will fall apart again too. But these small creatures I call my children fix all of that. The girl who ran away, who was afraid of me, she just told me I make her feel safe. I protect her. So I’m sorry but I won’t forgive you since there’s nothing to forgive. You weren’t yourself and neither was I yet you still pushed past it and realized this wasn’t normal for us. Maybe some people fight and some families would have let it go but we know we don’t stop trying in this family. Even when we’re all a little off. I’m proud of you.”

“For what?” you said quietly. He fixed your hair again, playing with it for a moment. He tickled the back of your ear and you giggled. “Dad.”

“Giggles never hurt either,” he said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and pulled you in close, kissing the top of your head. “You’re not that scared kid anymore, Y/N. You’re never gonna be her again. You’re strong. Even now, I know this will bother you for a little while but it won’t change anything. We’ll be even better if that’s possible.”

“You were begging me at the house,” you said.

“Could have gotten that new bronco you’ve been looking at. Sounds like you lost out,” he chuckled.

“Dork,” you said as you hugged him.

“I’m sorry for how I acted that night at the bar too. I’ll never do it again. I promise to not leave your side if you ever call me for help. Not for a second.”

“Dad you don’t have to apologize.”

“I’m bigger than you. I get to force this apology,” he said. “Am I forgiven?”

“Always,” you said. You saw a guy go past in the hall and you went wide eyed. “That’s the guy from the alley!”

“Hey,” said your dad with a smile as you got up. He walked out with his IV, you on his tail as the guy turned around with his doctor. The man looked at you and shook his head. “You’re the dickhead that tried to hurt my daughter aren’t you? I thought that was you.”

“Ew,” you said, looking at the infected cut on his head. Your dad moved forward and you caught his arm. “Um, maybe we can call the police?” 

A security guard at the nurse’s station got up and the man sighed, your dad narrowing his eyes.

“I was only gonna kill him a little,” he said. The man stared and your dad cocked his head. “I’m hopped up on anti-psychotics buddy. I can be very creative.”

“Dad,” you said, dragging him back into the room. “Let the police handle it.”

“I did get a little too happy about fantasizing over that,” he said as he sat down. You rolled your eyes and took a seat, laying back on the bed.

“Am I too big for a cuddle?” you asked.

“Nope, especially not in the hospital,” he said. He sat back and you rested your head on his shoulder. “Where is that husband of yours anyways?”

“I think he’s on the phone with the lawyer trying to sue or something,” you said. “Let him wander the halls and get it out of his system.”

“Excuse me?” You both turned to look at the door. “Hi. I’m Morris Harrison with Richmond...Solider Boy?”

“Homelander?” you said as Morris shook his head. “Uh, hi?”

“Hi. I uh, I’m a lawyer at Richmond and Associates and we’re working the class action against the pharmaceutical manufacturer. I got a call about more cases,” he said, handing over a business card. 

“We’ll be getting the family lawyer in contact with you rest assured,” said your dad. He nodded and looked away. “You okay?”

“Morris this is my dad, Jensen. Dad this is the nice boy from the bar you shouted at,” you said.

“To be fair, I was mentally impaired...and I mean come on, Homelander? Gotta be careful of those,” he smirked. 

“I was actually gonna be…” he said, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

“You and Kayla were gonna be Sam and Dean! Oh yeah. Now I remember,” you said. 

“I like the new friend,” chuckled your dad.

“I’ll see you guys around sometime. Maybe a little less drinking this time?” said Morris.

“Yeah. Text TJ. We’ll get together,” you said. “Oh. I gotta ask. How’d the Kayla situation work out?”

“We have our sixth date tonight,” he said. You grinned and he rolled his eyes. “You’re alright drunk girl.”

“Later Homelander,” you said with a wave as he left.

“He was nice,” said your dad. “Did I really shout at him?”

“Yeah. I think he’s a fan so thank you for being nicer this time,” you said. 

“Well...at least you made a few new friends out of this experience?” he said. “Silver lining?”

“I will take a quiet, happy day for now,” you said.

“Me too, kiddo.”

Three Days Later

It was after ten when you slipped inside your parents house. It was a little dark, your siblings all at sleepovers. You poked your head around a corner, your dad in the kitchen mixing two cocktails together. He lifted his head up, cocking his head.

“Y/N?” he asked as you stepped out from around the corner. “What are you doing here?”

“I know you and mom got the house to yourselves so I’ll only be a minute,” you said. 

“Uh, what?” he said as you walked over and gave him a hug. He returned it and ran his hand over your head. “Y/N. I know you didn’t mean what you said. You can stop apologizing. Please.”

“I know,” you said. 

“Alright then,” he said. “I’ll take free hugs anytime.”

“Dad.”

“Yeah?” he asked as you squeezed him hard. He returned it and you smirked as you looked up. “What are you up to?”

“Can I show you something?” you asked. He nodded and you pulled him with you towards your old room, back to being one for guests. You walked him inside and sat him down on the bed as he watched you. You went over to the closet and turned on the light reaching up top into a shoe box. You took it down and walked it over, handing it to him.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“My dad’s kinda sappy and he writes me these letters,” you said. He rolled his eyes but smiled, putting his hands on top. “I started writing back. I put them in this box and figured one day you’d find them. But I know it wouldn’t hurt for you to maybe peek a look now after everything.”

He nodded and smiled, freezing when he took off the lid.

“Y/N...how many letters is this?”

“A boxful?” you said. “I maybe write them with more...frequency than he does. They are dated and hopefully in order.”

He picked out the first one and shut his eyes. You bit your bottom lip and he took a deep breath.

“This is from four days after your seventeenth birthday.”

“Every time I went to therapy I wrote one. Some are for mom but your names are on the envelopes.”

“Why does this one say dad?” he asked, holding up the first one. “I wasn’t dad for years.”

“Oh we both know you were my father the first day I stepped foot in here,” you said. “I could pretend to a piece of paper. It was safe. It wouldn’t hurt me. I started calling you dad in my head a very long time ago. I just didn’t say it in case you didn’t want me to be your daughter in the end.”

He put the envelope back in the box and carefully put the lid on, tucking it by his side. He wiped off his face with the back of his hands and looked up at you.

“Next month you turn twenty eight. You’ll have been with us for a hair over eleven years. This last year...the accident...TJ and his dad...now this...you’re the adult more lately than I am.”

“Dad I’m almost twenty eight like you said. But my head still feels...younger. You’re fifty one. But you still probably think of yourself as a twenty year old kid.”

“You are learning the secrets of adulthood after all,” he said, wiping off his face again. “Y/N...I have this fear when it comes to you. It’s only you. I understand why. But it’s a fear I’ve lived with for quite a long time. It’s a fear I thought came true earlier in the week.”

“She was a bitch that didn’t know better.”

“Don’t call yourself a bitch,” he said, sounding young, shaking his head. “You’ve always been tougher than me. I put on a good act but I’m...I’m privileged and I’ve had an easy life and even that seems hard sometimes. I couldn’t be you. I’m not strong enough. I’m not strong enough to erase the fear that I had, that lingered.”

“What are you afraid of?” you asked as you sat down on the bed.

“I have always loved you. But there was a time you didn’t love me and it took a while before it was unconditional. I’ve always had this fear that I would fuck up and hurt you, make you not love me anymore and that’s selfish of me. I know it is. But I can’t lose you. It just...I was broken last week. Like somebody ripped part of my soul out and it was gone forever. I’ve dealt with grief and death and heartbreak and nothing has ever hurt like that. The drugs did all that I know but...I would have done anything to get you back. Anything. And this girl, this amazing young woman, she writes me letters. She’s been writing me letters for eleven years. I never had to be afraid of you either, did I.”

“No,” you said. “But it’s okay. Boys are allowed to get scared too.”

“Your parents did a pretty good job with you,” he said.

“Yes. I think the four of them did too,” you said.

“I didn’t raise you.”

“Yes you did,” you said. You shoved a hand in your pocket and pulled out an envelope, handing it to him. 

“Another for the box?” he asked.

“I already snuck today’s in there,” you said. “This is different.”

“What is it?”

“Just open it.” He untucked the flap and laughed, pulling out the sheet of paper. “TJ thought it was cute.”

“An IOU to tag along whenever I’d like when you go out drinking,” he chuckled. “I’m gonna need several hundred more of these while you’re at it.”

“How about like three?” you said.

“I will settle for you calling me if you think you’re in trouble,” he said. You nodded and he rested his head on your shoulder. “Even drugged up you still did that.”

“Well, the drugs didn’t kick in really until that night. Having allergies sucks,” you said. “You get the runny nose and itchy eyes and the crazy stuff. So not fun.”

“Nope,” he said, giving you a hug. “I was totally gonna have sex with mom all night but now I got all these letters to read.”

“Oh God, gross,” you said, shuddering as you stood up. He laughed and lay back on the bed, giggling as you shook yourself off. “I don’t need to hear about your nasty sex life.”

“I have an incredible sex life. Like so much-”

“Goodbye father,” you said as you walked out of the room.

“You don’t even want to know how often if I’m being honest,” he said as you walked quickly to the front door. He cracked up and you groaned. “Night, kiddo.”

“Night, dad. Enjoy your letters.”

You woke up around three in the morning, rolling over in bed and catching a few texts on your phone. You lifted your head and saw they were from your dad, a smile growing across your face.

I read the last letter first. All I gotta say is you never have to worry about me going away, no matter how much you scream and shout. You’re stuck with me forever, kiddo. Not even strong medication can tear that apart. Nothing can. 

Also, for the record, I get to be the sap in this relationship, not you. Box full of cards. Do you know how hard it is to one up that? Do you? Keeping me on my toes kid. I’m sure I’ll come up with something though.

Love you tall munchkin.

“Something wrong?” mumbled TJ. You put your phone down and shook your head.

“Not at all,” you said. You tucked in close to his side, TJ rolling to his own and tucking your head under his chin. He hummed and rubbed your arm, kissing the top of your head. “Love you.”

“Love you too, honey.”

________

A/N: Read the Dads timestamp here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x daughter!reader #rpf #au #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #reader insert #spn fanfiction #jensen x

[tytach]

Phantom of The Office - The Specter Delfecter™

Dwight walked into the office, swaying his hips in a way that was definitely very manly. He paraded to his desk clump, confidently propping a leg on his chair with all the confidence of a peacock in heat, proudly showing off his latest acquisition.

"Aaahhhhhh, I feel so good today," he said loudly, pushing his pelvic forwards. "There’s nothing like a wardrobe change to lighten up a man’s mood."

Jim finally looked up from his paperwork, eyeing Dwight’s new belt doubtfully. The accessory was made entirely of metal, slightly glowing and overall very futuristic looking; a sharp contrast with Dwight’s austere 80’s office worker attire.

"I’m not going to ask you what this is," Jim said flatly.

Dwight chose to hear what he wanted.

"Very good question, thank you Jim. This is a Specter Deflector™," he explained with a very haughty tone, grasping the belt in both of his hands. "It’s specifically conceived to protect its wearer from a ghost’s touch in a very painful way."

"Hold on. Is it supposed to hurt you, or the ghost?"

"The ghost, you dumbass. Try to follow a bit, will you?"

"Are you sure? Because the way you put it, it sounds like you would be the one getting hurt."

"Pfff, of course not, why would it hurt me?" Dwight looked at the camera and shook his head, displaying an almost confident smile. "Idiot."

Discreetly, he turned the button at the center of the buckle, dampening the glow of the belt. Jim smirked at the camera.

Danny emerged from the lunch room not long after, sipping at a steaming cup of coffee. Despite his exhausted state, he caught Dwight’s pointed look rather quickly. Noticing the Specter Deflector™, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Hey Dwight, what’s up?" He greeted awkwardly.

"Nothing," the salesman feigned nonchalance, giving a small shake to the device to make it catch the light. "Nothing at all."

Danny shrugged and resumed walking to his desk, his pace a bit stiff.

"Nice belt by the way. Where’d you find it? Etsy?" He asked conversationally.

"Fenton Works Online," Dwight gloated.

"Obviously," the temp grumbled, plumping down on his chair.

— — —

"Of course I’m not scared of Dwight and his stupid belt," Danny told the camera, his annoyance poorly contained. "This thing is a scam. In fact, everything from that shop is a scam, because ghosts don’t exist."

— — —

It took a few seconds for Danny to register Dwight’s shadow looming over his desk. He let out an involuntary scream as he jumped to his feet, quickly getting away from the salesman.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" He stammered.

“Just making sure you’re crunching those numbers correctly. Why, is there a problem with me being right here, so close to you?” Dwight asked with an obnoxious smirk.

Danny backed off as far as he could, oblivious to Meredith’s pleasure to his bumping into her.

“No, all good," Danny gulped. "Why don’t you go over what I just worked on while I go grab a snack?” He suggested, slowly edging away, bending in awkward ways to get out of the narrow space without so much as brushing against Dwight.

His efforts were painful to watch, and Dwight seemed to enjoy every second of it. When the door closed after the temp, Dwight shot an ominous smile at Jim.

— — —

“Wow. I’m really, really impressed,” Jim confided to the camera. “I didn’t think Danny would get so invested in the prank. Where did he learn to act that well?”

— — —

Jim found Danny busy fixing himself a peanut butter sandwich in the lunchroom. He looked through the window, making sure that Dwight was busy with a phone call before addressing the temp. 

“I didn’t know you were that good of an actor,” Jim complimented as he reached for the cupboard above Danny to grab a mug.

Danny scooted a bit to the side to get out of the way. He didn’t look up, too busy applying a good, thick coat of paste on his bread. 

"What do you mean?”

“What you did just now, with Dwight,” Jim clarified as he headed towards the coffee pot.

The younger man looked at him quizzically before realization hit him.

“Oh, that?”

“You’re good, you’re really good," Jim complimented, oblivious to Danny’s confusion. "And the FentonWorks Online idea? It’s genius. I didn’t think you would get as far as making a fake website to sell him fake ghost hunting equipment,” he went on as he filled his mug.

“Yeah well… I didn’t expect him to find it that fast,” Danny muttered. 

If Jim heard him, he didn’t show any sign of it.

“Where did you get the idea for the ‘Specter Deflector™’?" He kept on praising, swirling his freshly served coffee. "When I asked you to join me to prank Dwight I thought we’d use ouija boards and cheap tricks. But that much initiative? Astounding.”

Danny laughed awkwardly.

“Er… We’re a step ahead in Amity Park on all the ghost stuff, you know? Gotta cash in on the tourist trap and all. My folks got a lot of crazy ideas like that,” he explained, rubbing his neck.

“So pranking is a family trade? Amazing. I’m so glad the temp agency sent you to spice up life in here. Can’t wait to see what he’ll get next from your website!”

Jim taped Danny on the shoulder before returning to the open space area.

“Well I can,” Danny grumbled once the door had closed after him. "I could wait until way after that contract is over."

— — —

Danny looked very bored at his desk. Staring up in space, he was absentmindedly balancing a pencil on the back of his index finger when a wisp of condensation escaped his lips. The pencil clattered on the wooden surface as a shiver made him go rigid with alarm. Danny looked around, surveying his surroundings, before swiftly getting to his feet. Hands in his pockets, he crossed the open space at a brisk pace, heading for the door.

Dwight immediately caught on his strange behavior. Evidently delighted at the opportunity he was just offered, he ran to the entrance and managed to cut Danny’s path right before he reached the door.

"Where’re you going?" He asked smugly.

"I got a phone call," Danny answered matter of factly.

"Why don't you take it here? You’re allowed to take private calls," Dwight argued, very well aware it was just an excuse.

Danny’s tone became very serious, the underlying threat evident.

"Dwight."

"I’m not letting you go anywhere on office time without a valid reason," Dwight ignored him, unfazed. "Unless you’re ready to admit to everyone that you’re a ghost?" He continued louder, making sure to catch everyone’s attention.

"I really don’t have time for this," Danny frowned, reaching forward to shove him aside.

However, he wasn’t accounting for Dwight’s years of martial art practice and lightning fast reflexes. While Danny’s hand was still on his upper arm, Dwight turned back on the Specter Deflector™.

Danny jerked back with a cry.

"What the fuck Dwight?!"

The salesman ignored him. Instead, he turned to Jim:

"Told you it hurts the ghost and not the wearer!" Dwight gloated, pointing a finger at his colleague, before addressing Danny. "And you— Hey, where are you going?"

Evidently not ready to try to bypass Dwight a second time, Danny was already half way trough the open space when Dwight gave chase.

"Wait!"

He pursued Danny all the way to the bathroom. The camera stayed fixated on the closed door, not allowed to follow inside. Beyond it, clatter could be heard as stalls after stalls were violently opened. Dwight finally emerged after half a minute, stomping back to the open space.

"It’s empty," he proclaimed, victoriously. "Again."

— — —

"I knew it! This was the very proof I needed! You recorded it all, right?" Dwight bragged excitedly to the camera. "Have you seen how he jumped? And how he vanished? No one can say he’s not a ghost now. No one!"

— — —

"Why are you all so fixated on wether or not Danny is ghost? He said it himself, those ghost stories from Amity are all fake," Angela brushed the question aside. "Why don’t we talk about more important subjects? Did you know that there’s an estimated 70 million feral cats in the US? Huh? 70 million homeless balls of love who deserve all the petting in the world? Why does no one talk about that?"

— — —

"Which one is Danny again?" Creed blinked at the camera.

— — —

Jim shook his head, arms crossed over his chest, a bemused smile lighting up his features.

"Gotta say the kid’s good. He’s really good."

#Phantom of the Office #Danny Phantom #The Office #dp fanfic #dp x the office au #ficlet #unbeta-ed we die like Danny #<- saw that tag once on a post and I find it not only hilarious but also accurate #but don't hesitate to tell me if you catch mistakes I can easily correct #I've got many more ideas for snipets like that #Also Danny is in Scranton for a reason it was just his eternal luck that he ended up at Dunder Mifflin #my fics

[karlyfr13s]

Helping Destiny Along

A fluffy CS one-shot for the lovely @teamhook

Thank you @veryverynotgoodwrites for being one heck of a beta, and @the-darkdragonfly for your brainstorming powers!

Summary: Henry Mills has a theory: for each Captain Hook, there must be an Emma Swan. Well, he found Princess Emma Nolan at long last and is determined to bring her together with Killian Jones now that he's back in the Wishverse version of the Enchanted Forest.

Read it on AO3

At nineteen, Princess Emma Nolan believed in True Love. After all, her parents had found each other, and everyone knew theirs was a legendary love worthy of poetry and song. She watched for a prince from the high windows of her tower bedroom, waiting for someone tall, dark, and handsome to sweep her off her feet. He would be bold, romantic, dashing, and kind-hearted—she just knew it.

At twenty-two, she concluded that such a love was rare and that her parents may be the only two people with a Capital-T, Capital-L True Love, so she started looking for the more run-of-the-mill variety. Instead of waiting for someone to ride up to the castle gate and court her, she took a more active approach and sought her love by traveling and meeting new people. When that didn’t work either, Princess Emma tried for mutual attraction, which was fun at twenty-four, but grew stale by twenty-five. So she resigned herself to loving her kingdom and her people.

At twenty-eight, a man knocked on the door and utterly transformed her life. To be clear, she did not love that particular man. Henry came from a faraway land and told her fantastic tales that seemed beyond the reach of even her magic, and while she did not love him, he told her somewhere out there in a world beyond her grasp there was an Emma Swan who was his mother, and who loved him ferociously. For days, she and her parents welcomed Henry to stay in their home and share meals at their table, and for days he regaled them with stories of his world and of other versions of each member of the Nolan family. They were spellbound by his narratives. He was a gifted storyteller, and as if he’d known this was too fantastic to be believed, he came with something called photographs that showed a still window into his world. She saw a version of her mother, Queen Snow, but much younger and with close-cropped dark hair instead of the silvery tresses she was accustomed to. Her father was another surprise--he looked barely older than Emma herself, sandy hair where now there was gray, and while she knew her father was still a strong and capable swordsman, this version of King David seemed able to challenge even the mightiest ogre.

Princess Emma Nolan even saw herself, but not herself. They looked identical, she and Henry’s mother, and while her style was different from this unknown twin’s, she couldn’t help but notice some similarities. Emma Swan was often pictured in a short red leather coat, while Princess Emma Nolan’s favorite doublet was a rich blue leather. When she commented, Henry told her they both wore them like armor, gesturing to the bruise on his shoulder from their earlier sparring session in the yard. Emma Swan liked to pull her hair back, wearing it high on her head much like Princess Emma Nolan when she wasn’t expected at court or in her regal finest. Henry even had a picture of his mother with a sword--is she trained as well? She’d asked, and Henry grinned at the question, answering with another tale of his mother besting a pirate in single combat!

“I’m pretty sure that fight was rigged though,” he admitted as they walked the castle gardens one afternoon. “And that’s part of why I’m here.” He stopped and faced her, saying he hoped she could believe one more outlandish story before he had to return to his world.

“You seem to come well-armed with evidence, Henry. I don’t see why I should doubt you at this point.”

“My mother, Emma Swan, is an incredible woman. It took her a long time, but she found her True Love, and I think you can find yours. When I learned there was a version of her--of you--here, I had to find out if you were with him too, and when you weren’t…” Henry trailed off, frowning at the ground. He was quiet for a long while, and Emma ran through his words over and over. Henry thought he knew who her True Love was? How? How could he know that his mother and whoever she was with were one another’s True Love?

“I know he’s here now--I’ve met him before, and back in my world--”

“What? Then how can he be my True Love if he’s from your world?” None of this was making sense, and for the first time she doubted Henry. It seemed he could see the uncertainty within her, and he steered them to a bench to sit and talk as he clarified this man was not from his world, but had been brought there by a curse. The same curse that separated Henry from his own family.

“I know you understand curses and magic,” he began and she nodded at his words. “So when I tell you he was swept up in a curse and brought back in time to my world, that should make sense, right?” She nodded again, wondering who could have cursed two men from different worlds at the same time. Someone powerful and dangerous. Henry sighed and continued. “His name is Killian Jones, and he’s the best man I know. He’s my father in every sense of the word, and while there’s a version of him who is my mother’s True Love, I know there is one who is also yours. He has to be.”

Henry told her a lengthy story about a witch who ensnared a group of people from this kingdom, trapping them in a place called Hyperion Heights. He spoke of a coven leader who cursed Killian Jones so he could never be in contact with his daughter—a child she had abandoned him with after tricking him into spending a night with her. “But you see, Emma, you can break that curse. Your love--yours and Killian’s will break that curse. You will have each other and Alice--hell, and Robin! I haven’t even told you about Robin,” he was lost in thought again after that. Emma waited and tried to make sense of all she had learned.

Is it possible? In some way, his tale made sense. If what he said about the curse was true, it would explain The Gap. Emma had never mentioned The Gap to Henry, though he may have learnt of it through other means. It was rarely spoken of, but everyone in the Enchanted Forest shared one simple truth: there was a block of time no one could account for. Whenever Emma or her parents tried to focus on that space, thinking back to her twenty-sixth birthday, there was a strange void where there should be at least some memory of the year. She could remember the celebratory ball and the night of her birthday, but every time she tried to focus on what came next it only earned her a persistent headache.

“Please don’t hate me, Emma,” Henry put a hand on her shoulder, bringing her back to the present. “I told him to meet me here three days after I arrived. That’s tonight. He’ll be here, and he knows what I believe about you two because he also knows my mother and her Killian. He’s, uh...not entirely convinced. He’s been through a lot, but…” He shrugged and gave her a lopsided smile.

“It’s his story to tell, so I won’t go into detail, just...go easy on the guy. He might be a little gun shy—uh, guarded,” he quickly clarified when he saw her blink in confusion. “I don’t think he’s seen anyone since that witch who duped him, led the coven, and tried to destroy Hyperion Heights. Think that might do a number on a guy.” He looked so sincere, so much like he did when telling all his other tales that Emma chose to believe. Henry hadn’t lied to her before, so what would the motivation be to do so now?

She chewed at her lip, fretting over what to do and how to greet someone who might be a part of her very soul--someone who had been through tricks and curses, and had suffered real loss. She couldn’t simply turn him out in the night, that was unthinkable, but what do you say to the other half of your heart? If that is what he is. This had to have been simpler for her mother. At least she’d simply caught her father in a net after robbing him. That seemed easier than calmly welcoming fate to dinner and introducing the man to your parents on day one.

“Well,” she got up and dusted off her breeches, “I suppose we’d best let my parents know we’re expecting another guest. And I may need to change as well. I think I’d rather not smell worse than the stables when I meet him.” Emma faltered on the last word, not knowing how to address Killian Jones. Henry smiled and followed her lead.

-----

One thorough and contemplative bath later, Emma emerged in a blush pink gown that shimmered softly in the waning sunlight. It had taken her three other dresses before she settled on this one. It was simpler than what she wore to galas and State events: tea length and embroidered in sheer flowers. She knew it would glow softly under the lights of the candles and torches at dinner, and Princess Emma Nolan found herself hoping he would like it.

When he arrived, it was Henry who greeted Killian Jones first, clasping the man’s hand and giving Emma a moment to simply observe. His smile was warm, a bright white flash of teeth and Emma noticed the slight creases at his eyes as well. An authentic smile, she noted, enjoying the genuine moment between the two men. He was dashing there was no other word for it--dressed in black and rich crimson, rings and charms gleaming in the firelight, their glimmer echoed in the silver strands that threaded here and there through his otherwise coal-black hair. Where his left hand ought to be, Emma found instead a polished silver hook and she remembered whispered gossip of a pirate captain referred to only by the moniker Hook. Once a fearsome leader of a brutal band of thieves, he had all but vanished into lore years ago. She realized too late that she’d been staring, and cleared her throat softly before curtseying to cover the awkwardness. Henry took the moment to introduce them, “Captain Killian Jones, may I present Emma Nolan, Princess of Misthaven.”

She offered her hand and Killian took it up, placing a chaste kiss across her knuckles. His eyes met hers, their brilliant lapis blue making her breath catch in her throat. Regardless of the formality of their meeting and the fact Henry, her parents, and several serving staff looked on, she felt the pull immediately. From the moment her hand was in his, it felt right. She wanted to keep hold of him more than she’d wanted anything in her life, wanted to memorize the rough calluses formed by his years at sea, but she forced herself to maintain propriety and brought her hand back to her side. Emma reminded herself they did not know one another, to not get swept up in Henry’s notions without evaluating the truth of the situation. Though she saw in his gaze a strange flicker of recognition, a brief knitting of his brow that asked a silent question she could not interpret, she let the moment pass and returned to her expected duties.

Emma introduced him to her parents, watching her father’s scrutinizing gaze contrast with her mother’s brilliant smile. No doubt her father was riddling out Henry’s purpose in inviting this man to dinner, though she couldn’t fathom him guessing the truth. All through dinner, Emma could barely take her eyes off Killian. He shared a few stories from his days at sea, talking of far-off kingdoms and uninhabited islands, and Emma felt a longing take hold of her as he spun a tale of a snow-covered northern kingdom where they carved elaborate ice sculptures, held firelight festivals, and celebrated the beauty of winter rather than fearing its chill. His voice was low, its velvet warmth wrapping around her and pulling her from all sense of time. The evening passed quickly, and long before she was ready, Emma’s parents stood to signal the end of the affair.

“It’s far too late for you to make a return journey, Captain Jones,” Queen Snow spoke. “We welcome you to stay as a guest in our home. We will have a room made up for you at once and hope you will accompany us for breakfast in the morning.” At his thanks, the Queen turned to Emma, “Oh, and Emma, darling?”

“Yes, Mother?”

Emma approached and her mother drew her in for a close hug, whispering softly, “See to it that Captain Jones can find his way. Most of the staff have already retired and I’d hate for him to get lost in search of rest.” With that, the Queen turned and gently tugged her husband toward their own chambers, leaving Emma to escort their two guests.

She could hear her father grumbling about leaving Emma unchaperoned, but Snow’s voice echoed back, “David, she’s twenty-eight, not sixteen, she’ll be fine. Our daughter is perfectly capable--” Their voices were lost as they rounded a corner, and Emma suppressed a smile. It didn’t matter that she was a full grown woman, her father would always be protective of her.

When she turned around, Emma realized Henry had vanished. Someone seems to think himself a matchmaker, she mused and as her eyes fell upon the man who waited by the fireplace she could understand why Henry had made himself scarce. Deep breath, Emma. He’s simply a man like any other. If she tried very hard, she just might convince herself of that. Well, unless she stopped to listen to the way her heart raced when the corner of his mouth ticked up in a smile.

“Did you want--that is,” she faltered and tripped over her tongue, coming to stand near him where he leaned against the back of a chair by the hearth. “I don’t know how long a trip you made today, and so…” Why was this so hard?

“I’m quite alright, Princess. Would it be terribly inappropriate of me to ask you to keep me company and perhaps share a drink?” She smiled in response, slipping a large book from a shelf over the mantle after pointing out where her father kept a set of glasses on a shelf nearby.

“He thinks I don’t know about this,” she opened the volume to reveal a bottle. “Rum he had imported from the south--is that acceptable, Captain?”

“Aye, that will do nicely. Bit of a pirate in you isn’t there, Princess? Pinching a man’s rum while he’s fast asleep.” They shared a conspiratorial grin as she poured and each took up a chair near the fire. “To what shall we toast, love?”

She hummed in thought, considering the man before her. The pull was still there like some invisible thread entwining the two of them and she hoped it wasn’t only she who felt it. “To new beginnings,” she offered, holding her glass aloft. He echoed the sentiment and crystal clinked as their eyes met over the rims of their glasses before both looked away shyly and took a sip. The warmth and spice slid down her throat, settling in her stomach and making her shiver. They were quiet for a time, simply sharing the space while they glanced at one another, eyes never quite meeting, nor acknowledging they were both performing the same dance.

“I take it dear Henry shared his theory with you?” Killian broke the silence, addressing the weight that had settled in the room. She confirmed he had shared that along with several other stories, asking if it were true he’d been swept away to a land without magic. “Aye, and for some time I had no memory of myself or this place. When the truth finally came back to me it was...difficult to deal with. Did he...mention Alice?” He swirled the rum in his glass, eyes flicking up to meet hers.

“Yes, he also mentioned a curse is keeping you apart,” she reached across the small distance that separated them, hand resting on the brace that held his hook. “Killian—if I may call you Killian,” she felt herself flush at the informality and he nodded encouragingly. She said it once more, feeling the musical quality of it as she continued. “What kind of monster keeps a father from his daughter like that?”

His shoulders sagged as he said the story of Gothel was one for another day, that it was a story filled with dark shadows he dare not conjure without the sunlight to dispel them. “I only mention Alice because...well, given what Henry has told both of us I have been...” his brow furrowed as he searched for a word, and she leaned forward, absently running her hand over his sleeve and feeling where the firm leather of his brace ended and the warmth of his arm began. His gaze dropped to where her hand rested and she looked up, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “Concerned,” he finished at last. “That is, I’d thought perhaps because I have a child with someone else, and because I am obviously older than you are, that you might feel...or not feel a certain…not that I think Henry is necessarily right…”

His words tapered off and she became very aware they were both leaning in now, the distance between them nearly closed. She could see the silver in his hair glinting in the firelight, the strands at his temples more greyed than the rest. Greedily, she took in all she could in this moment. The heat that radiated from where her hand still rested atop his arm, the scents of leather and petrichor that clung to him were so close she could nearly roll them on her tongue. When she searched his eyes she saw a lingering hurt, but behind that was what appeared to be cautious hope. Setting her glass aside, Emma brought her hand up, allowing herself to do what she’d been wanting to all evening and running her fingers through his hair. He held her gaze, eyes wide and uncertain and she realized his past hurts ran deep enough that he wouldn’t act on that hopeful glint she’d seen moments ago. She would have to be brave for both of them.

With a whisper of his name she closed what little distance remained between them. She’d intended a light brush of her lips, had simply wanted to know what may lie between them, but the moment their lips met Emma knew she would never be satisfied with so little. She poured herself into the moment, moving to grip the front of his shirt and pull him tightly to her. He followed her lead, their kiss deepening as he tilted his head, the two of them moving as though they had done this a hundred times before. She heard her pulse pounding away in her head, felt his breath ghosting over her lips as they breathed into one another for a moment before he captured her lips again. Something shifted then, like the single beat of a massive heart, a shockwave rippled outward, though neither could be bothered to break this moment. Finally, the two pulled back, eyes searching one another.

“Was that?” Emma asked, not knowing how to complete the thought. Her parents had told her their story several times: the kiss that broke the curse. The kiss that radiated out from them in a burst of force and light. The kiss that sounded an awful lot like what she had just shared with Captain Killian Jones.

Killian rested his forehead against hers, breathing out slowly before replying in a soft voice, “Aye love, I think it may have been.” She asked how that was possible, neither naming it yet and both quaffing their rum before leaning back in their chairs. “Years ago,” he began, “I ran into a fortune teller on the docks. He told me I would find my happiness though it was presently locked away in a tall tower. So, when the time came and I found myself facing a witch and finding a woman locked away in a tower I had thought my moment had come. Instead, I found Gothel and her tricks. I brought a daughter into this world only to have her freedom snatched away by the cold-hearted woman who bore her.”

Emma watched him closely, he seemed far away and lost in another time. “Tonight,” he continued after several beats, “when I saw the westward tower of this castle I had to stifle my hope that perhaps after so long--what is that tower to you?” He leaned toward her suddenly, his sapphire eyes searching hers as though he could read the truth within them.

“My bedroom,” she admitted. “My parents thought it would keep me safe. With only one known entrance and exit, it was easy to post guards and easy to know who sought my attention. Of course, there is another exit, but no one other than me knows of it. I devised it when I was sixteen and desperately wanted a way out without the entourage of guards.”

He fell silent, his forehead creased in thought as he tapped a finger against the bow of his lips. The mantle clock’s rhythmic ticking was nearly deafening as Emma waited through each drawn out second. Mesmerized by the path he now traced along his bottom lip, her mind drifted back to the soft press of his mouth against hers and she wished fervently to undo whatever had him so lost in his own thoughts. Come back to me, Killian, she sighed aloud and he snapped to attention. “My apologies, love. I believe I may be in need of rest.” His explanation rang hollow and she leveled a gaze at him, knowing this wasn’t the full truth.

“I swear to you, Princess, I will make my theories known. I do not intend to hide anything from you.” He stood then, stretching languidly before offering his arm and waiting for her to rise. She acquiesced if only for the chance to feel the warmth of him once more before she retired for the night. She tried to stifle her yawn behind her hand and heard him chuckle low in response. “It seems I may not be the only one in need of sleep. Lead the way, love.”

She led him to one of the guest rooms not far from Henry’s. As she bid him goodnight, Killian leaned down to brush a featherlight kiss across her lips, wishing her sweet dreams. Emma felt as though she floated on air the whole way up to her room, content to leave him to his musings tonight and trusting he would speak his mind soon enough.

----- The morning saw Emma waking earlier than usual, calling a chipper “Good morning” to her sleep-rumpled lady’s maid before dismissing her and attending to her own routine. Still abed at this hour? It seems dear Tink has been keeping late hours herself. She let herself ponder whose affections might be persuading the spunky blonde to be less than punctual, smiling at her reflection as she brushed out her golden tresses.

Once ready, Emma hummed to herself, making her way down the innumerable stairs in search of breakfast, her parents, and Killian--the thought made her grin. His sudden shift into contemplativeness notwithstanding, he had been the perfect gentleman last night. Thoughtful in their discussion at dinner, genuine and curious without overstepping, and then there was the kiss. She flushed, pausing before the dining room doors to gather her thoughts and put on what she hoped was a soft smile rather than the doe-eyed look she’d undoubtedly been wearing since she woke.

Her parents, Henry, and Killian were already seated when she entered--the latter both rising and inclining their heads in deference. “Good morning, Princess,” they intoned in unison. She laughed, insisting they sit and continue the conversation she had interrupted, taking her place at her father’s right hand and quietly thanking the servingman who filled her cup with coffee and cream.

“Killian, you were asking about the tower, yes?” Queen Snow offered an encouraging half-smile before sipping demurely at her tea. At this, Emma heard her father mutter under his breath about the Captain inquiring about his daughter’s bedroom.

“Yes. You see, Your Majesty, I can’t help but notice it is nearly identical--from the outside,” he clarified at her father’s rapidly reddening face, “to one I encountered years ago. That particular structure was the residence of a rather powerful witch.”

“Gothel,” her father spat, and all eyes shifted to him. Emma saw Killian’s jaw clench at the name and he gave a single, curt nod in affirmation.

With her mother’s hand resting on his shoulder, her father began the story she’d heard many times over the course of her life. The story of how Gothel heard the regents were expecting and deduced there would be a child born of the most powerful magic in all realms: True Love. That she knew as well that child would have light magic, and that even if it never manifested there would be power in their blood. It was the story of why Emma’s parent’s fortified their home so heavily once word of Gothel’s covetous wish reached them, and why they insisted she train with sword and bow.

“It’s why my little girl was taught to ride like a soldier and not a courtier. Hell, it’s why I gave into her frankly dangerous wishes and allowed her to learn to sail--in case she needed to escape quickly.”

“Does it help to know Gothel can’t harm anyone anymore?” Henry offered helpfully, trying to lighten the weight that had settled on the group. There was general agreement at the table that, yes, it did help. Quite a lot, in fact, and it felt as though the sun broke out from beneath the clouds as they returned to their breakfast.

“Is that what you were concerned about, Captain?” Emma caught herself in time and used his title, not yet ready to have that discussion with her parents.

“The thought had crossed my mind, Princess, but it seems your own construction must have inspired hers for some reason.” He dismissed the thought, though she could practically hear the gears of his mind grinding away. The conversation returned to banal pleasantries about the weather and what game was in season. Her father consulted Killian on the conditions at sea, and in general the rest of the meal was like any other. Like any other meal you share with your family, a new friend, and the man you just shared True Love’s Kiss with less than eight hours after meeting him. Perfectly normal. Emma put on her court smile and commented politely, waiting for her moment to pounce.

“Join me for a walk in the gardens, Captain?” The moment arrived after a lengthy debate about the benefits of traveling by horse in comparison to ship. Thank the gods for the momentary lull as her father’s cup was refilled yet again - Emma didn’t think there was enough coffee in the whole of Misthaven to keep her alert on this topic.

“Of course, Princess.” He smiled bashfully, running his hand through his hair and standing as she rose. “May I?” He offered his arm and she accepted, the two making a long overdue exit.

The grass was still damp as they walked the grounds, the morning sun hinting at a warm day to come despite the slight chill that had Emma leaning in close, basking in the warm line of contact with Killian. “So, what was it you held back up there?” She broke the silence and watched the arch of his brow as he glanced at her. “I’ve always known when people are dishonest, or not fully honest in this case,” she explained. “It’s a feeling, sort of like a rock settling into my stomach. I don’t know if it’s part of my magic or something else,” she shrugged at this and watched his expression shift from curiosity to contemplation. No doubt he was thinking up a way to explain whatever was plaguing his mind.

He remained in that state as they passed her mother’s bed of crimson roses and all the way through the lilies that always made her nose twitch, their heady scent overpowering. Spotting the bench she and Henry had sat on—was that only yesterday?—she took the lead, turning to face him as they sat.

“There are some strange coincidences,” he began. Their knees brushed and she leaned into the contact, hoping her touch might ground him in the present. His past included darkness, and here in the bright morning sun amongst the flowers she hoped to keep those grim memories at bay.

“The tower is the first of them, and I’ve no idea which came first. Given Gothel’s numerous deceits, I’m not inclined to believe any of her tales nor any of Belfry’s—the woman who claimed to be the missing princess, Rapunzel,” he clarified when he saw her puzzled look. “Did you know the witch?”

She shook her head, “Only what my parents told me: that she was interested in my magic and had a reputation for taking what she desired by force.” He expressed clear agreement, and when his focus became distant Emma took hold of both hand and hook. “Whatever it is, that doesn’t change who we are to one another, Killian.”

That must have heartened him, for it earned her a gentle smile. “Aye, love, I suppose you’re right. You see, the other strangeness was Gothel’s impersonation. I’ve never given it much thought, but why should she play at being a princess? I’d no notion who the woman was, yet she changed her appearance, her voice, her name. Why?” He hypothesized then that either Gothel bribed the fortune-teller, planting the man in Killian’s path with a bogus story about happiness in a tower, or that she somehow knew Emma would be important and hedged her bets by occupying her own tower and putting herself in Killian’s path.

“You see, I’ve considered the strangeness of these overlaps and in part I wonder if one of the gifts she or a fellow witch of her coven acquired was prophecy. She seemed to know far more than anyone ought to, and perhaps thought to entrap me and use me to get to you.

“If she knew we were, uh,” he gulped, and flushed a charming shade of pink all the way to his ears. “Destined for one another, then it would be well within her character to exploit that. To make me think she could lead me to my happiness, then snatch you away for her own nefarious purposes. As well, I’m starting to suspect the unaccounted year the townsfolk allude to may well have been a longer span of time than any of you realize.”

It made sense in a way, and while they couldn’t be certain of Gothel’s intentions, Emma was definitely grateful the woman was gone and could do them no further harm. As far as The Gap was concerned, she supposed there was no real way of knowing how much time had passed, only that it seemed like a year. Had she slept as Aurora once had? Every answer seemed to lead to more questions, but Emma resolved herself to focusing on what mattered most first: reuniting Killian with his Alice.

“Despite her purposes, Killian, whatever they may have been,” she reached up and cupped his cheek. His eyes were blue as the sea and she let herself fall into their depths as she brought him back to the present. “Last night, Killian, True Love’s Kiss is potent magic and I think—I’m almost certain, actually—that we broke your curse. We can find Alice, and you can finally hold your daughter in your arms again.”

“We?” He grinned at her, nuzzling against her hand before turning to kiss her palm. “Then you’ll accompany me, love?”

“Of course! I know we’ve only just met, but I think it’s more than obvious how I feel about you given the fact we broke a witch’s curse with our first kiss.” They shared a laugh, shifting so she could rest her head against his shoulder as he draped his arm around her.

“She’s a bit different, my Alice,” he cautioned.

“And we aren’t?” she challenged. “Tonight at dinner, let me handle my parents. We’ll tell them what happened and make plans to seek out Alice. Henry said she’s with someone called Robin—does that name mean anything to you?”

“Aye, that’s Alice’s love. I know where to find them.”

“Then that’s our next course. Reuniting you with your daughter is the first step toward, well, I guess…” she paused, pulling back to meet his gaze again. “I guess toward becoming a family, right? I mean, my parents will have questions and all things considered, I guess we have other planning we’ll need to do in the future, but—“ he cut off her monologue with a kiss. It was sweet and slow, like he was trying to memorize the feel of her lips on his. His tongue flirted with her bottom lip and she twined her fingers in his hair.

Pulling back to meet her eyes, Killian smiled. “I love you, Princess Emma Nolan,” he whispered.

She felt warm all the way to her toes, grinning as she replied, “I love you, Captain Killian Jones.” The two shared a lingering kiss, the spell suddenly broken by a loud whoop of excitement.

“I told you both!” Henry hollered, emerging from his hiding place behind a large oak tree and performing some bizarre dance Emma had never seen. The three laughed, Henry congratulating them on their newly blossoming relationship while Emma and Killian thanked him for the unlooked-for but welcome help.

“What can I say except: you’re welcome.” His smile was bright at the sun and he slung an arm over both their shoulders, walking between them as the three returned to the house and, for Emma and Killian, toward the start of a new life together.

Tagging the usual suspects: @kmomof4, @teamhook, @veryverynotgood, @caught-in-the-filter, @hollyethecurious, @laschatzi, @donteattheappleshook, @lonelyspectator12, @the-darkdragonfly, @zaharadessert, @winterbaby89, @jrob64, @wefoundloveunderthelight, @ultraluckycatnd, @stahlop, @alexa-fangirl-forever, @superchocovian, @monosalvatore16, @snowbellewells, @batana54

#love4teamhook #cs ff #captain swan #captain swan fan fic #cs fluff #emma swan #killian jones #henry mills

[tangledinmdzs]

The Juniors actors (if you’re okay with this, of course) reaction to a kiss scene with him and the reader? Thank you!

ooh, i like this idea! i’ve kind of played around with the different kinds of reactions to a kiss scene. 

here’s my attempt.

presenting: your request~

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

Lan Sizhui

you’re sat together at the premiere and the small rented out movie theater is filled with people

this would be your first debut

and to have been paired with seasoned actor Lan Sizhui, was more than the honor

you know that there is a lot of anticipation for your performance

you have a lot of hope for yourself 

but you’re still nervous

in the months that you’ve spent working with Sizhui, you’ve grown to be his friend easily so he feels your nerves without having to even look at you

maybe it was because you guys were a couple on screen, why he understood you so well

but in the dim lights of the cinema, he finds your hand on the arm rest beside his, gives a quick squeeze

nothing too long, otherwise the paparazzi might get a pic

your anticipated kiss scene comes up,

shot with water effects for the pouring rain with a sprinkle of emotional dialogue

you remember the kiss being rough and mildly uncomfortable (not because anyone was a bad kisser, but it was just a lot of water)

but the finished product on screen completely changed that idea

you try a glance at Sizhui and are surprised to find him looking at you

you both stare at each other, missing the kiss on screen

but feeling everything for one another sat in the seats

Lan Jingyi

you’re both sitting on the couch, the TV up and ready as the rest of your friends gather

“alright, i’m anticipating this, you said that Jingyi’s character is finally gonna unleash his ‘secret’” Jin Ling hypes, sat on the floor

you laugh at your friends, leaning a bit into the couch as the rest of your actor friends get comfortable

“i’ve been doing my duty as a great friend and supporting you guys. i’ve watched every episode that’s been released everyday! i’m all caught up!” Zizhen says, way more invested than anyone

you hear Jingyi laugh beside you as Sizhui quietly cues up the latest episode

all of your friends ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at the right moments, reacting as exaggeratedly as possible (because you all are actors)

until the moment that Jingyi’s character comes on screen and runs after your character, 

“you think that you can take advantage of people, and get away with it!” Jingyi’s character yells at you, stopping you on the grassy dirt road

“you can’t cry now, not when you’ve been helping me all along” your (antagonist) character replies, eyes lighting up with your powers

but you’re stopped by the deadliest weapon yet

a kiss!

Jin Ling, Sizhui & Zizhen simultaneously scream and laugh when Jingyi tugs you in roughly by the collar and kisses you 

your three actor friends turn to the two of you for an explanation, only for Jingyi to put his arm around you and say,

“surprise! we’re dating now”

while the rest of your friends scream again

you don’t clarify if that applies to just the show or real life too

Jin Ling

“an-and this all meant nothing to you?” you emphasize your anger with the shakiness of your tone, 

Jin Ling’s character is an aloof business tycoon, and he’d just broken your heart

“h-how could you be so cruel to me... no... to all those people that were depending on you!” 

your character was the sweet self made radio show host, waiting to make a difference in her community and family

but she’d just been tricked

you used all of your emotions, remembering the tips that both Jin Ling and the director had given you 

the tears flow from your eyes naturally, as you embody the very deep hurt caused to your character

method acting at its finest

at your hiccups, Jin Ling turns, his face having sympathy that his character has never expressed well before

“you...”

you turn away, ready to run from Jin Ling, from everything that’s led up to your betrayal

when a hand grabs your wrist, you’re spun around and kissed

tears come as your lips land on one another

and the kiss is simultaneously fast and slow 

you only know that you need to stop when the director yells cut and the crew starts bustling again

when you both break apart, you try to regain yourself 

“sorry, i cried a bit too much” you say, half laughing half hiccuping as you try to break out of character

Jin Ling simply shakes his head,

tenderly wipes your tears with his thumb when he doesn’t have to

“i’m sorry i had to make you cry,”

“it wasn’t you, it was Jianyu” you say his character’s name

Jin Ling still wipes your tears as best as he can anyways

Ouyang Zizhen

after working with him for a few months for a shared drama, you learn that Zizhen has a meticulous habit of monitoring himself

almost after every single scene, Zizhen tries to get himself at the monitors to watch the angles, the panning, every single thing

and at first you’d thought that it was annoying

a little nitpicking (if we’re being honest)

but then you realize later on that the more set of eyes on a particular scene the better

even though it wasn’t like that scene wasn’t going to go through 20 thousand more eyes for editing

but still, an actor’s perspective always gave additional useful input

and Zizhen was very concise and focused 

hardly ever please with most of his performances

which was why you were a little intimidated right now

stood beside him as the both of you monitored your just shot kiss scene

you ignore the fact that your lips are still tingling for the anticipation of Zizhen’s commentary

you both watch the side camera of your kiss, him leaning into your space at the lockers in the high school set

it’s a short kiss, barely a few minutes

which is why you’re turning to Zizhen right away the moment the director points at the screen and shouts to one of the editors to see if the panning from the other camera matches up

you’re biting your lip slightly as Zizhen crosses his arms, tilts his head still staring at the picture on the screen

“looks good,”

you widen your eyes, 

“really?” 

“yea, that might be a one shot” Zizhen says and turns to look at you

you smile at each other

#mdzs headcanons #mdzs headcanon #mdzs junior headcanons #mdzs reaction request #mdzs reader #mdzs reader insert #mdzs imagine request #mdzs scenario request #mdzs request #mdzs request list #mdzs request me to write #mdzs requests #mdzs request something #mdzs lan sizhui x reader #mdzs lan jingyi x reader #mdzs jin ling x reader #mdzs ouyang zizhen x reader #lan sizhui x reader #lan jingyi x reader #jingyi x reader #sizhui x reader #jin ling x reader #ouyang x reader #ouyang zizhen x reader #mdzs fluff #mdzs au #mdzs actor au #mdzs fandom #the untamed x reader #cql x reader

[gloryofluv]

Traditionally Obscure Chapter 28

A nice transitional chapter? I think so.

Previous Chapter

Rosa came down the staircase and heard deep laughter in the sitting room nearby. She breathed and entered the room to see the tall, framed magician with bound-back hair. His dark hair highlighted his sharp azure eyes. He was smiling and in the midst of explaining some adventure. By Luke’s grin, it likely had more than typical amusement.

“It was a blunder,” Carl laughed and shook his head.

Ester covered her laughter as the princesses giggled. Vyn was smiling, but when his eyes met Rosa’s form, he wagged two fingers toward her. Carl noted the action and turned with a wild smile.

“Ms. Rosa! How wonderful to see you,” He chuckled and skipped over to her.

“Mr. Carl,” Rosa beamed.

He bowed and tilted his head. “How are you in Svart? Has it been decent to you in your stay?”

“Very much. I’m absolutely charmed by the country,” she declared.

Carl grinned and pulled a black handkerchief from his pocket. With a flash of sparks, it turned into a small porcelain blackbird. He offered it in his palm toward her. “This is our bird in Svart. Just as beautiful as you, My Lady.”

“Carl, you’ve made your point,” Vyn said in a flat tone.

He smirked back at Vyn. When he spoke, it was playful and in his native tongue. Carl covered the bird with his hand, and it disappeared. Vyn’s smile faded, and he spoke with a bit of force.

“I wouldn’t test him; he’s in pain,” Rosa added.

Carl was still speaking to Vyn and asked a clear question pointing to her.

“Yes,” Vyn said with a nod. “Should she agree.”

The princesses gasped and nearly jumped from their seats to skip over to Vyn, speaking to him swiftly. Rosa’s eyebrows raised, and she glanced at Luke, who shrugged his shoulders. It was unusual, that was certain.

“He says you shall be joining him for his visits to the estate more often,” Carl explained.

Rosa smiled and rocked her head before walking toward Vyn’s chair. “Now, ladies, your cousin is grumpy today. Don’t nag him,” she teased while touching their shoulders.

The princesses pouted and went to sit back down. Vyn curled his lips and gestured to the seat nearby. “Please sit, Rosa. Tea will be brought in shortly.”

“Seems Vilhelm is quite authoritative today,” Carl chuckled and walked over to the empty armchair.

“Indeed,” Ester breathed.

Rosa crossed her leg over the other and smiled at Carl. “So tell me. How have you been since the last we’ve seen each other? Have you been working on any new acts?”

Carl rocked his hand from side to side and snorted. “It is always in progress. I’m pleased you’re interested in hearing more about my future shows. Is magic not a staple in your life currently?”

“Vyn actually showed me such a wonderful trick, similar to your handkerchief one,” Rosa declared.

“Vilhelm, you shouldn’t be revealing the secrets of the trade,” Carl laughed.

Vyn chuckled and shook his head. “Not nearly as proficient as yours, Carl.”

“Oh, a compliment? I’m touched, Your Grace,” Carl replied and bowed his head with a smile.

“Comedy doesn’t suit you,” Vyn voiced.

Luke scratched his head. “Are you both friends?”

“Quite, from school. You see, Vilhelm and I shared the same dormitory. While others were out jostling about during recess hours, we were in our room working on magic and science,” Carl chuckled.

Two workers came into the room with trays and set them on the table. Rosa waited for them to finish and excuse themselves with bows before she stood up and began dressing the cups. She turned her attention to the magician and tilted her head.

“I’d like to hear more about this dormitory. You both bunked together?” Rosa asked.

Carl grinned and rocked his head. “It seems Vilhelm hasn’t been revealing any of our school days to you, Ms. Rosa. I was not in the exhilarated classes such as him, but we did trade fantastic stories when he wasn’t excelling at some sport or class.”

“So, he was like this even as a child? Vyn, do you ever relax?” Luke inquired as his eyebrows skewed.

“Says the man who went to college the first year of high school,” Rosa tutted.

“High school, ah, that is,” Carl wavered and then spoke to Vyn in his native tongue.

“No, I was already a second-year graduate by then,” Vyn clarified.

“Wait, just a second here,” Luke huffed. “You were a second-year graduate at the start of high school?”

Ester arched an eyebrow. “Nephew, why is this a surprise? Don’t you have two degrees?”

Vyn’s smile was pleasant, but there was a glint in his eyes. “Yes, as it seems, time isn’t factored into Ph.D.’s.”

Carl rocked his head and pointed his index finger at Vyn. “Vilhelm, now that you’re a duke, when do you plan to come back so I can set up a show for you. It would be quite the honor to host such in your honor.”

“Oh, Vil said he’d be home for the dressage competition!” Sasha rushed out with a smile.

“We’re trying to insist he comes out for fall harvest,” Elsa voiced.

“Cousins, we talked about this,” Vyn tutted and shook his head. “Patience.”

“Ladies, are you in your final year of tutelage?” Carl questioned the princesses.

They rocked their heads, and Sasha exhaled. “Vil says we have to finish with accelerated studies due to the last two years.”

Luke cocked his head like a lost puppy. “Okay, I don’t know about this royal stuff. Why did the two years matter?”

Ester cleared her throat and nodded. “Mr. Pearce, in Svart, the royal family, stands for head of the country. We represent the sacred precedence all the country holds to tradition. When my King husband was diagnosed by the royal physicians, he was given less than a year. We as the family must put all tasks and business on hold that could be.”

“So, this is like an exaggerated version of how we see our government heads in Stellis?” Luke questioned.

Ester rocked her head and touched her chest. “We are the symbol of prosperity and kindness. Anointed for a higher standard of life. The king is our shining star, and without a bright shine of guidance, the country's leadership isn’t balanced. That is why we have three different branches to run our land.”

“Aristocratic, Government and State,” Vyn added.

“That’s interesting,” Rosa nodded while serving the princesses and queen tea and turned to Vyn. “So, your title does grant you a form of leadership then?”

Vyn nodded as Rosa offered him a cup after the ladies. “Thank you, Rosa. I influence the word of the Aristocracy, yes. My uncle was very forceful about how he believed in checks and balances in his country.”

Carl waved his index finger. “And so the wheel moves and spins. Vilhelm, we always knew you were going not to be a spoke, but the lever.”

Luke adjusted his coat and hummed. “Vyn, if you’re the head of the aristocracy, then how are you going back to Stellis?”

“Ah, yes, Vilhelm, I was going to see about your plan,” Carl took the teacup Rosa handed him. “Thank you, My Lady.”

Rosa gave Luke a cup before sitting down herself. “I’m interested to hear about your plan as well, Dr. Richter.”

Vyn sipped his cup and reached over for a folder with a small wince. “Alright, if you insist.”

He handed Rosa the green folder, and she set down her tea to shuffle through it. It was pragmatic and genuinely a piece of art as far as plans go. Vyn has everything plotted in a manner of telecommunications, video sessions with the other leaders of the aristocracy, and scheduled visitations.

“I’m so impressed,” Rosa gasped. “Not that I should be shocked. You have always been impressive.”

Vyn gestured to Carl. “What my friend here hasn’t announced from his mischievous passions in magic is that he’s remarkably wonderful at communications. He is here to receive my certifications to give to the different international companies based in the east of my province.”

Rosa arched her eyebrows and glanced over at Carl. “Oh, I hadn’t a clue. That’s excellent. It does make sense how you’re so excellent at magic then, Mr. Carl. You know how people perceive their surroundings.”

Carl grinned and rocked his head. “It does help. I’m happy to see your skills of awareness are sharp. However, your enjoyment of magic is a sign of partaking in the tender parts of life.”

“Thank you; I’d like to think there needs to be joy in life because there’s so much difficulty as it is,” Rosa agreed before nibbling on a danish.

Ester moved her hair from her shoulder and smiled. “It seems my nephew keeps useful friends.”

“It certainly does,” Rosa laughed.

Luke reached over and snatched up the folder from Rosa. He was glancing over the papers with an intense scowl as his coral eyes shot between pages. The princesses whispered to each other a moment and then nodded.

“Cousin, can we at least break tradition for your birthday this year?” Sasha asked.

Vyn exhaled and glanced over at Ester. She raised her eyebrows and slanted her head. “It wouldn’t be a horrible thing to celebrate your birthday with a ball. It doesn’t go against tradition if you don’t require the attendance of the present royal family,” she nodded.

He adjusted his golden glasses and rocked his head. “Fine, we shall throw a party.”

The girls clapped; however, Rosa scowled. “How is that not breaking the rules? Sorry, I’m still learning.”

“Well, My Lady, as long as the current royal family doesn’t engage with social events and the entire family doesn’t publicly engage in courting or international events, then private engagements are welcome,” Carl explained before glancing over at Ester. “Your Majesty, did I miss anything?”

Ester shook her head. “As always, you have proven to remain knowledgeable of Svartian traditions.”

Rosa tilted her head. “So, the dressage competition is just countrywide, which is allowed? Also, that’s why Sasha and Elsa can’t engage with social events like the summer fashion show in Paris?”

“Royal life is complex,” Ester laughed. “It’s alright, Rosa. It’s a different world.”

Vyn shifted and bent with a bit of effort to retrieve a pastry. Carl waved him off and stood up, grabbing a plate before offering it to him after selecting pastries. “My friend, you need to let your injuries mend.”

“Yes, well, I can test my own limitations,” Vyn grumbled and took the offer. “Thank you.”

“No, you need to recover,” Ester declared with a glare. “Vilhelm, that isn’t a request. As head of this household, you will take care of yourself.”

Luke handed the folder back to Rosa and nodded. “That’s an excellent proposal, Vyn. However, my only concern is how you expect to maintain all of your requirements in both countries.”

Rosa set it aside and sipped her tea. “If anyone is capable of doing it, Dr. Richter can.”

“It’s plenty to take on, Rosa. You don’t understand the intricacies of running several operations at once,” Luke sighed.

“Pardon me, but you don’t need to talk down to me, Luke. I understand very well the issues that he’s facing,” Rosa groaned.

Luke gasped as his cheeks tinted. “Rosa, I wasn’t trying to be rude. It’s just plenty to do.”

“Which, Luke, I’ve plotted out. I have known of my uncle’s issues for years and laid out this plan on the off chance that my Uncle Ruthgar would need assistance,” Vyn exhaled.

“Quite intricate,” Carl nodded.

“I think we shall enjoy a few tricks that our friend has prepared are in order after tea,” Vyn hummed and set down his plate. “Aunt, I believe you wanted some time to relax before our departure tomorrow?”

Ester cleared her throat. “Of course, nephew,” she bobbed her head and stood up. “Ladies, behave for our guests.”

The princesses waved to their mother, and Ester left the room. Rosa noted the subtext of the conversation. Now that she had confirmation that she ran the two companies that originated in Svart, Rosa could understand the subtleties. Vyn stood up and rocked his head. “Shall we head to the ballroom? I believe you brought in the pieces for your show, correct? I know it won’t be as exquisite, but still enjoyable.”

Carl grinned and jumped from his chair. “Of course, Your Grace,” he chuckled and bowed deeply.

Vyn sighed. “Don’t, please.”

Luke glanced at the princesses and shrugged. “He always seems to be in a disagreeable mood.”

“Don’t worry, he isn’t,” Carl chuckled and gestured to them. “Let me perform for you before you leave. I did promise Ms. Rosa to show her something new next time we met.”

Rosa took Vyn’s arm and rocked her head with a smile. “I look forward to it.”

The group left toward the ballroom, but on their way, Rosa noted a cracked door. She had paused only long enough to note a woman speaking in the native language. It wasn’t demure like Ester’s usual tone. It was severe and authoritative.

Vyn glanced at her and tilted his head as they fell behind the group. “She’s quite fierce,” he whispered.

“Yes, and the perfect person to assist with your duties as well. I’m finding that you and your aunt are far more similar than I suspected,” Rosa agreed.

His smile stretched. “Actually, I was estimating you both are more alike than you suspect, Rosa. Let’s enjoy the rest of our evening in Svart. We have a long journey home tomorrow,” he replied before they continued their path to the ballroom.

#tears of themis #tears of themis fanfic #tot fanfic #tot #tears of themis vyn #vyn richter #tears of themis mc #tot fluff #tot angst #tot vyn #tot mc #tot romance #royal society

[imhereformr]

23 or 41 for Bloom and Sky? Sorry I know you hate Sky but I can't help but love them for nostalgic reasons and I really enjoy the way you write them 💛

Thanks! It's nice to know I write them well despite my dislike of Sky. ☺️🧡

41: overhearing they have feelings for you.

Note: this story is canon divergent and the Sky/Brandon switch never happened. Set in early S1.

Bloom wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to accompany Stella to Red Fountain anymore. Maybe it was that she’d never seen the inside of the military fortress, or any really, and she wondered what it looked like. Or maybe, and much more likely, part of her had hoped she’d see Sky and that he’d pull her into some swooping, romantic kiss and confess his undying love for her. Not that that would ever happen since she was pretty sure Sky saw her in the same way he saw Brandon. Besides, Crown Prince Sky of Eraklyon would never be interested in plain ol’ Bloom the Earth girl. 

“They’re up on the fifth floor” Stella informed her as the blonde turned up the hall that led to a large staircase. Stella had decided to surprise Brandon since she knew he had a free afternoon for once. The couple had been officially dating since the Trix had tricked Stella into thinking he was asking her out only for them to kidnap her. Brandon had been so concerned that he’d called and texted Stella incessantly until he got an answer. They’d gone on their real first date the day after. Stella had joked that maybe Bloom should get fake kidnapped to see how Sky would react, but Bloom thought that was a bit much.  

From the top of the stairs, Bloom followed Stella through several twisty hallways until they’d come to a solid wood door – painted, unsurprisingly, in cream – that had the number 527 and four names listed on it:. Sky, Brandon, Riven, Timmy. Stella lifted her hand to knock, but the door opened before she could. In front of them stood a surprised Timmy, books overflowing in his hands and his cape half attached. “Hi” he breathed, not having been expecting to find anyone on the other side of the door.

“Hi Timmy.” “Is Brandon here?”

“Uh, yeah. He and Sky are in their room.” Timmy adjusted his glasses and moved to let the girls in, excusing himself as he shut the door behind him.

The common room was plain, like Red Fountain put no effort into letting the boys show their personality. A simple black couch sat facing a TV with a wood coffee table between the two. The only thing that showed the people who lived in the space existed was the books and magazines littering the coffee table, a sweater on the couch, and the video game console with a stack about half Bloom’s height beside the TV.

“Shit, I have to pee” Stella whispered, telling Bloom she’d be right back and then they could surprise the boys. Bloom had to wonder just how little Stella had planned this. She had no idea if Brandon would be in his room, just that he wouldn’t be in class, and hadn’t thought of going to pee even though Bloom had made her stop at one of the guest washrooms on the first floor before they’d headed up.

While she waited for Stella, Bloom wandered around the space. She flipped through one of the magazines on the coffee table, not paying much attention to anything on the pages. There were two doors besides the one Stella had gone into. One was Timmy and Riven’s room, the other Sky and Brandon’s. Bloom wondered which was which, receiving her answer when she heard something fall behind one of the doors. She jolted up, stopping short of the door. Behind it, she heard Brandon laughing.

“Why did you do that?” Sky questioned.

“Because you’re being an idiot.”

“How am I being an idiot?” Sky sounded offended, but Brandon just laughed again. Bloom leaned against the door to hear better, praying the creaking of the floor as it shifted under her weight wouldn’t give her away.

“Just go to Alfea – right now – and tell her. I’m confident you’ll get the reaction you want.”

“And how do I do that? Just walk up to her and say Bloom, I’ve got a huge crush on you and I’d really like you to be my girlfriend? That wouldn’t work. She’d ne-”

Bloom had no idea what force took over her body, just that she’d heard her name followed by the words crush on you and acted. She opened the door abruptly and bolted in. “I have a huge crush on you too” she announced, before what she was doing hit her. Brandon and Sky sat on their respective beds, upright and wide-eyed. As the realisation of what she’d said and done hit her, she saw Brandon smile. Sky, however, remained slack-jawed. “I’m so sorry. I- what the fuck am I doing?”

Bloom shot out of the room, running past a confused Stella who had just exited the bathroom, embarrassment growing in her. It was bad enough she’d admitted her feelings to Sky, but she’d done so by hurtling into his room unannounced. He’d obviously know she’d been listening to the conversation and think she was a complete weirdo.

She didn’t know where she was going, but, somehow, she found the courtyard. Faces passed her, looking confused at the lone fairy running through a boys campus. She was almost at the bus stop where hopefully a bus would arrive soon when she heard her name being called. Her initial thought was that it was Stella, so Bloom stopped and turned back. It was only as she completed her turn that she registered that the voice had been male.

Sky approached her, slowing in the last few steps. He stopped just a foot short of her and took a deep breath, smiling down at her as he exhaled. Bloom could feel her heart about to beat out of her chest. Why was he smiling at her? Was he trying to stop himself from laughing at her? Her heart began to beat much faster as Sky took a step closer to her, followed by another step and another. He cupped her chin and his head bent down to meet hers. What was he -?

Oh.

He was kissing her.

Bloom melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him in closer. His hand slid from her chin to her cheek to caress it, as the other hand wrapped around her waist. His lips were soft and sweet, and the kiss the perfect combination of passionate and gentle. A fire erupted in her stomach, warming her entire body. How was it possible for one kiss to affect her this much?

A shy smile danced on her lips as Sky pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. He returned her smile and Bloom swore she saw the stars. He had such a beautiful smile, and this one was all for her. “Please tell me you were serious” he whispered, the warmth of his breath hitting her face and reminding her of the warmth in her body when he’d kissed her.

“Yes?” She laughed, wondering why he even had to ask. What kind of jerk would burst into somebody’s room to lie to them? Besides, she’d returned his kiss, hadn’t she?

“And the second bit?” Bloom tilted her head, not quite understanding what he was referring to. “About being my girlfriend” he clarified.

“I’d like that.”

“Oh, good. I’d like that too.” Bloom laughed as she pulled him in for another kiss, relishing in the warmth that spread through her once again as their lips met.

#winx club #winx #winx bloom #winx sky #skloom #bloom x sky #sky x bloom #prompt #oneshot #winx fanfic #fanfiction

[gabrielbigbang]

POSTING DATE: March 29th

AUTHOR: @senoritablack​

ARTIST: @casslastheaven​

STORY TITLE: Miscellaneous Drawer, Two Toothbrushes

BANG SIZE: Mega

RATING: Explicit

SHIPS: Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel (Background), Sam/OC (Briefly) 

TAGS: Humor, Fluff, Slow Burn, Obliviousness, Enemies to friends to lovers, Angst, Domesticity, Canon Typical Violence, Canon divergence, Continuity errors, TW for mention of depression, TW for mention of homophobia,  Top!Sam, Oral, Handjobs

SUMMARY: When Sam finds out that Gabriel's been resurrected and lying low in the bunker for months, he goes through the all stages of grief. There's denial, some anger, a brief stint in bargaining, but he skips depression and is forced into acceptance. Sam's so preoccupied with how Gabriel shouldn't fit into his life, that it takes him a year to realize that Gabriel's shown Sam that he does. Somewhere down the line all of Sam's routines change and it's all because Gabriel grossly overstays his welcome. 

Excerpt below the cut...

EXCERPT: Sam expects old aches in new places. New grays are a non-issue. He accepts the latest latent hang up, re-emerging like a stalking piranha, biting him in the ass and holding on until he is so hurt and uncomfortable with himself, that he’s sighing curse words into the crook of his elbow before stubbornly hurling himself into the day. Sam will fix his bed, take a leak, then, and despite his aging body’s protest, there’s a quick warm-up before an hour sprint. Teeth brushing, showering, drying off and dressing is a short affair because his stomach will remind him that he’s fasted for 8 hours. He goes for something lean if he’s heading out for work. It's 3 eggs scrambled in an unforgivable amount of butter and the deli meat of the week between toast, if he’s to be at the bunker. 

All to say, Sam's mornings come with little to no thought at all, pass with zero surprises and don't usually involve the reflection of a bare-ass archangel presumed to be dead. They don't include a seemingly not-dead archangel turning towards a shocked Sam at the counter to—without so much as a flush or hello—wash their hands and leave just as insouciant as they’d sauntered in. Matter of fact, Sam never stubs his toe trying to compose himself. He doesn’t, ever, make sounds like an angry chihuahua whose paw has been stepped on and doesn’t usually have reason to go for the gun strapped under the sink. So, he's never been prompted to limp after an assailant at ass o’clock in the morning, and in no instance beyond that, has his welcoming shot been responded to with an uninterested, “Oh, hey, Sam.” 

The bullet falls to the polished concrete of the bunker with an almost comical ting and the sound reverberates in the silences that hangs between them. 

“Who the hell are you?“ Sam asks after a beat.

Then he's not waisting anymore time, never lowering his gun as he toes towards his chest of drawers. He snatches the silver blade that lies there. The being wearing Gabriel's vessel has the audacity to look unimpressed.

“I get that I didn't replace the toilet roll the other night, but you didn't have to shoot." It says. 

“I thought that Dean had—hold on—no, who are you?” Sam asks again. 

“All archangel, kid, but sure, have at it.” The being says, extending a hand. 

Sam pulls the being closer by the wrist and drives the sharp blade across the offered palm. There's blood but somehow the being looks more inconvenienced than in pain. Sam frowns. Then fixes his shoulders. He drags the being a few steps towards his bed, diving under his pillow for the holy water he stores there and washes over the already healing cut. But still, nothing. Not a demon either? 

“What are you?” Sam demands this time. 

“Already bored.”

“I won’t—” Sam says, backing the being into the closest wall with his forearm. 

He presses deep into the being’s neck, waiting for it to choke, to splutter, to fight back. But it doesn't. 

“Kinky.” It gurgles and goes slack against Sam’s increasing pressure. 

“—ask again.” 

The being frowns. Sam relents some.

“Company be damned, you come in any closer and I can’t be reliable for how my dick responds.” The being says. 

 Sam looks down and quickly back up again. His neck goes hot.  When Sam rectifies the situation with some distance, he clears his throat.

“There's no way.” 

“There was one way, obviously. Mean, I’m here aren’t I?”

“How? Was it another trick? How did you fool Lucifer? Were you in hiding all this time? What.”

“Does it really matter?" It asks. 

“You're kidding right, yes! Yes, yeah, it matters, dude. If you're really who you say you are, how the hell are you here?”

“Well after saving your asses from being deity chow—you're welcome by the way—and having my own bro put me down for the long nap I sorta just… woke up.” It makes a a vague, sweeping gesture that does nothing to clarify what it's saying. 

“You woke up—okay, sure, whatever. So was it Norse magic? Was it angelic? God himself? You’re not giving me a lot to go on.”

The being shrugs and with a snap, the room around them turns. The beings in a heavily pillowed wicker loveseat and Sam’s lying on a fold-out that’s a foot too short for him. 

It's the snap that keeps Sam from protesting again, triggering a thunder of emotions, because he's momentarily thrusted into a reel of memory. Lewd suggestions and apparitions, and ludicrous just desserts. Cartoonish deaths, strawberry syrup, a steak, a plea, and finally, a Wednesday.  Playing an angsty doctor, arrogant cop, game show contestant, playing their roles and winning.  Thinking it’d been Loki, figuring out different. Figuring out what that meant. Sam remembers Gabriel. Gabriel the archangel, who’s mask they had confiscated all those years ago when they had trapped him in that holy oil, a mask they held in their hands well until they met again at the hour of his last jest. Before his more cunning brother saw through the trick and took his life. He gave Dean, Cas, and humanity a chance. He gave Sam a damn chance. And Sam felt like there was finally an x in the map, and all he had to do was stick to the trail. He felt hopeful. And Sam’s finding the rings again, thanks to Gabriel. He's saving the world. But then he’s falling. Burning. Despondent. Waking, remembering and not caring what he was. Waking, forgetting, uncovering and hating what he was. 

When Sam’s brought back from the memories, he’s sure they’re the same being. Sam didn't expect to grieve Gabriel's death. But he did. He wasn’t a friend. He was barely an ally. He simplified it to empathy, in the end, knowing what it meant to acknowledge every mistake but not live long enough to correct them and stoped being confused by the feelings. Eventually, he stopped wondering about Gabriel's what-ifs all together. Still, it's been years. Sam swallows down the mixture of new and old hurt, keeps in everything he wants to ask, to argue. He bolts upright, stares at the being, after Gabriel, because even as experience gives reason enough to deny all this, his instincts won't let him. It’s totally Gabriel. Gabriel with all his five foot eight of inexhaustible condescension, looking at Sam with familiar honey-colored haughtiness, lips curling as if he knows all of the embarrassing thoughts and misgivings that Sam wakes up to. Gabriel, using humor as his sword, aflame and so bright, that it wards off anyone who can’t be bother to wait long enough. But Sam had waited for the fire to die down before. He could wait again.

#Gabriel Big Bang #Supernatural #Gabriel #Sam Winchester #Sabriel

[fictionadventurer]

Have you seen the new little women movie? If so what do you think of it?

My initial thoughts on the movie are here. I just rewatched it for the sake of answering this ask. My thoughts can be summarized as follows:

This is a beautiful movie. So much loving focus on the things and the textures. The clothes are extremely Pinterest-and-Hallmark-movie aesthetic rather than anything remotely resembling history, but it’s hard to mind when every character is wearing three different textures and patterns at all times and giving the eye so much to look at. (Also, I was knitting during rewatch, so the knitwear was especially satisfying).

But I’m still not sure it succeeds as a story. Much like the outfits, there are so many different bits and pieces layered together, with different textures and colors that make it interesting to look at, but I’m not sure they come together into a coherent whole. Individual scenes could be good, but it was hard to connect emotionally to any of the characters when the backstory was chopped up into so many pieces.

I found it easier to differentiate between the past and the present this time--I finally figured out that the golden light is for childhood and the blue light is for adulthood. Noticing that also made me like the ending more, which I’ll get to later.

I liked the dancing scenes a bit less. They were a little less joyful and emotionally uplifting than I remembered. I did find it interesting how Jo and Laurie’s dance at their first meeting turns into a sort of silent film for part of it, until Meg intrudes and brings them back into the real world by telling them about her hurt ankle.

I liked the Meg and John story less. Emma Watson just doesn’t seem very motherly or wifely. However, the ending scene of the silk subplot was very touching and one of the few scenes in the movie that showed the self-giving side of marriage.

I still wish there had been more focus on the virtue development part of the plot--the “Meg falls to vanity” scene falls kind of flat because Laurie is just scolding her for...wearing a fancy dress? In a way that makes it seem like he’s just scolding her for being feminine and liking pretty things. We don’t have the context to make it clear that she’s bending her morals for the sake of being liked. The scene does set up a contrast between Laurie-the-moral-guardian and Laurie-living-a-life-of-vain-pleasure in the very next scene, but it’s not enough to make the Vanity Fair scene work on its own.

And why didn’t the movie have more of Mr. March? Let us see the marriage that has shaped the girls’ ideas of what marriage is supposed to be.

I found it interesting that the devoted spinster Aunt March who believes in marriage as a purely economic concern rejected offers to enter Meg’s wedding dance twice. She keeps herself but missed out on the joy.

I found Amy and Laurie slightly more believable as a couple. Though when Amy has the struggle of “marry for financial gain or marry for love”, it’s rather too convenient that the resolution is that she decides she’s really in love with a different rich guy than the one she was going to marry solely for his money.

Beth was a lesser character than I remembered (both in terms of screen time and emotional impact). However, I did like her role in the story far more because she’s kind of key to some of the themes (which I’ll get to in a moment).

I still hate Jo changing her mind about Laurie. It makes her choice of Bhaer seem like she’s settling for second-best.

Now’s the point where I’m going to talk about the themes and the ending. Which was the primary reason I wanted a rewatch--to clarify my ideas about this movie’s message and resolution.

SPOILERS AHEAD. FAIR WARNING TO ANYONE WHO HAS NOT ALREADY BEEN FRIGHTENED AWAY BY THIS WALL OF TEXT.

This movie is about three things: Marriage, Art and Money. Money is necessary to survive. Marriage and art can both be a source of money, but they are also pursuits that should be entered into out of love.

This movie harps and harps upon the fact that marriage is an economic proposition. It’s the most stable way for a woman to get money. She also gets love, ideally. But where the movie falters is focusing so much on the getting part of marriage and rarely on the giving. Laurie wanted to marry Jo because he wanted to get her love. Jo’s “I’m so lonely” scene specifically has her say that she wants to be loved, but not to love--she wants to receive rather than give. I’m not sure there’s any indication that either Jo or Laurie ever give or give up anything when they finally do enter into matrimony. It seems that they just get who they decide they want. Amy gets a rich husband and gets a man who loves her, but what does she ever give up for him, aside from another man who she also did nothing to love?

The silk scene with Meg and John is one of the few times where we see a married couple giving to each other, rather than focusing on what they get out of it.

Art, too, is a love that can be turned toward money, and most of the characters have this out of balance as well. Jo loves writing, but she wants to be seen as good, and she mostly cares about the money that she gets out of it. Amy gives up art completely when she realizes she’s not a genius. “I’d rather be great or nothing” is the exact opposite of doing art for the love of it--what she cared about was getting praise rather than giving something of herself to the world.

Beth is the only one who understands the giving nature of both love and art. She performs for no one’s praise or payment--she plays because she loves music. She’s the one who gives up her time to bring the donations to the Hummels when her sisters are caught up in their own pursuits. When she gets the piano, her sisters are the ones who are caught up in admiring it as a thing, but she runs off (without any of her sisters even noticing, too caught up in the wealth in front of them) to thank Mr. Lawrence because she recognized the love behind the gift.

Jo starts to understand the importance of love within art after Beth dies. We have the lovely scene of Beth encouraging Jo to do her writing for someone--give of her art. When Jo returns to her writing, the camera beautifully focuses on the For Beth at the head of the manuscript--Jo is not writing this for money or praise, but out of love for her sister.

I like the ending much better than I did before. I can see the golden sunlit ending as the “real” end of the story, because I noticed the lighting trick. When Bhaer is leaving the March house, Jo is standing in the blue light, but Bhaer is in the golden light. It’s as if Jo sees that a life with him could provide the same level of happiness that she knew in childhood.

It’s still odd that her family has to convince her every step of the way that she’s “in love”. But because of the lighting trick, I can more easily believe that she really did want to spend her life with him.

That dumb scene with the publisher is what ruins everything. We had Jo writing her book out of love. We had Jo deciding to give Bhaer a reason to stay. But it’s derailed by this weird focus on money. Jo keeps insisting that she’s “selling” her heroine into marriage, and that she’s willing to sacrifice her artistic vision just because this ending is what sells. I feel like if they’d cut out all that stuff about the contract negotiation--which seems only to have been put in because Gerwig wanted to show off this bit of trivia about Alcott’s business acumen--the ending would have been a million times more coherent on a plot and thematic level.

I can believe that the sunlit ending at Plumfield is Jo reaching happiness by giving of herself to others. Everyone is using art to give to others--Bhaer is teaching music, Laurie’s teaching some kind of drama class, Amy’s teaching painting.

The shot of the gold leaf being stamped onto the cover of Little Women, which had seemed like the final stroke saying “this ending is fiction” now seems to be saying that “this is the way the story really ends.” It’s helped by the fact that after Jo gets the book in her hands, we cut to the image of a group of little girls playing pretend--it’s Jo being satisfied in her book not because it’s her achievement or a source of money, but because she knows it will inspire another generation of little girls. Thus we can have Jo achieving artistic and personal fulfillment by publishing the book and teaching at Plumfield.

If it wasn’t for that contract negotiation scene, there wouldn’t even be a question of what the real ending was supposed to be. There’s only one version that shows Jo prioritizing the giving part of art and marriage over any selfish gain, and I hate that the ending muddles it so badly for the sake of misplaced meta-feminism.

#little women #little women 2019 #answered asks

[phantomechospics]

Twist of Fate

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Detective Conan, Magic Kaito

Relationship: Kudou Shinichi X Kuroba Kaito

Tags: Soulmate AU, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, No Smut, Black Org Takedown, Slow Burn, Happy Ending

Language: English

Word Count: 7348

Extra Notes: For my 100th follower @altumvidetur. This has also been posted on AO3, in case of formatting errors.

“Oi, KID. I found you.”

Kaito stiffened at the call of his moniker. He tried to act as natural as possible when he turned to the steely-eyed child glaring up at him. He held onto his police issue hat, as if to check his disguise was still in place, even though he knew it was. “I’m sorry little one, but I’m not sure who you’re talking to? There are no other children here and, as you can see, I am clearly an adult.”

“Yeah, yeah. And I’m the Queen of England.” The boy, Tantei-kun, gave him a very unimpressed look. “Now, either I can go tell Nakamori-keibu that one of his officers has been replaced with a wolf in sheep’s skin—or, you can hand it over.”

Kaito grimaced at the kid’s ultimatum.

Because it wasn’t a gem or stolen good the kid was asking for. It wasn’t even candy or a cup of coffee, which might also be reasonable. No, it was a small two-ounce container of KID’s special concealer mix. He used it for everything from hiding bruises and marks to blending a fake face with his natural skin tone.

And Tantei-kun had taken to accosting him every few months for a new container. If Kaito didn’t prepare the stuff by hand, he would have been out a fortune in make-up costs.

What use did the little detective have for make-up anyway? He was six, for crying out loud! How did KID end up as his black-market make-up dealer?

Kaito sighed at the thought.

No, he knew how this had happened. Or at least when it had happened.

It was the second heist with little Tantei-kun in the ring. The Suzuki Company had put out a challenge to steal the lady of the company’s jewel. KID, of course, answered the call and took the disguise of Mouri Ran in order to remain close enough to pull off the heist and still get away cleanly.

Not as cleanly as he had hoped, since the boy he now knew as Edogawa Conan, Tantei-kun, managed to corner him before he could make his escape. Instead of calling the inspector on him, though, Tantei-kun had asked him a question.

“What’s that stuff on your wrist?” the boy had asked, a field ball caught beneath his foot.

At the question, Kaito had blinked. He had been surprised the boy had even noticed the thin, dry coating that covered his Mark. After having worn it for years, Kaito had managed to blend the paste seamlessly with his skin. Like there was never a Mark to begin with.

“It’s a special concoction that can conceal any mark. It goes on like make-up and dries to the texture and flexibility of skin. It’s water-resistant and lasts for days, so long as you don’t treat it too roughly.” Kaito had held up his arm, ignoring the panicked rush that came with displaying his Marked wrist so easily.

It didn’t matter that it was concealed. It didn’t matter that it couldn’t be traced back to his civilian self. It didn’t matter that his civilian self had been ‘Markless’ for years by this point. The knowledge of what lay underneath the thin veneer of lies still caused his heart to quicken.

He dutifully kept his face blank of those fears, choosing a taunting smile instead. “I��m surprised you noticed it at all.”

“I’m observant like that,” the boy had said, gaze dark. “Where do you buy it?”

“I don’t.” KID had laughed at the unimpressed look the boy shot him. “Klepto-urges aside, I didn’t buy this. I made it. None of that commercial stuff could compare.”

The boy had given a contemplative hum, obviously deep in thought. Just as KID had secreted a flash grenade into his hand and plucked his emergency sunglasses from their hiding place, the boy had spoken. “I want some.”

KID had paused in his escape attempt. “… Heh?”

“I want some,” the boy had repeated. “Give me some, or I’ll turn you over to the Inspector.”

“… What if I don’t have any on me?” KID had asked, curious beyond measure.

“Nakamori-Keibu it is,” the kid had said and thrown back his head to call to the searching officers.

“Ah, ah, ah! Wait! Okay, okay!” KID had frantically waved his hands and pulled out a small bottle that he always kept on him. It was supposed to be for emergencies, but bargaining with a six-year-old wasn’t too far out of that territory. Plus, it meant he didn’t have to waste a light grenade. The materials to make those cost far more than the little bottle of concealer did.

The boy had looked all too pleased with the trade-off and let KID go without a complaint. Kaito had thought that would be the end of it, but oh how wrong he’d been.

Every few months since then, the boy would track him down and demand another bottle in return for letting KID escape. Now, it wasn’t to say that KID didn’t like Tantei-kun coming to his heists. He loved showing off to his little critic and making those blue eyes widen in awe at a trick the other had never seen before. It quite honestly made Kaito’s whole month, just to get the boy to smile.

But there were times, like now, where the boy was a bit too serious, saw through KID’s disguises a bit too quickly, that made KID wonder just what the boy needed the concealer for.

Though he would never get a straight answer, it never hurt to ask. “What does a kid like you even need concealer for?”

“Reasons that you don’t need to worry about.” Tantei-kun raised an eyebrow at him. “I can always go find Nakamori-keibu if you refuse.”

“I wasn’t refusing,” Kaito grumbled. “Just stalling.”

“Stalling? Really? And you’re supposed to be good at lying.” Tantei-kun scowled at him. “Now, hand it over. Ran will be looking for me soon.”

“Hold up! You didn’t answer my question.” Kaito crossed his arms with a huff. “What does a kid like you need with professional-grade concealer?”

“It’s none of your business—!”

“It is my business if you go through four bottles in a year.” Kaito frowned at him. “You know those are supposed to last twice the time, right?”

Tantei-kun glared at him. “If you don’t hand it over right now, I’ll-!”

“What? Go tell Nakamori on me?” Kaito let a grin play at his lips despite the stab of fear he felt. “Then who would you get your black-market make-up from? Your Onee-chan certainly won’t get you any, not without the same questions I’m asking.”

By the look on the kid’s face, KID knew he’d caught him. Tantei-kun tried to hold a brave mask, but seconds later, it crumbled. “Please. I need it.”

“Why?” KID repeated. “The only use you have for it is to cover up marks: ink, markers, scars, bruises…”

KID paused at that, his mind suddenly snapping to… horrible repercussions. Kaito often used the concealer to cover injuries left over from KID heists, where Taskforce officers had gotten just a little too close. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Tantei-kun…

“Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong,” Tantei-kun hissed, immediately defensive. Which, again, could be indicative of…

“So you’re telling me that you aren’t being abused at home?” KID asked, voice suddenly toneless. “I know Mouri is a ‘great detective’, but that doesn’t mean he’s a good man. And you aren’t related to either him or your precious Onee-chan, that much I’ve gathered. It would be all too easy to—?”

“Mouri may be a drunk, but he’s a useless one.” Tantei-kun rolled his eyes, but his body was relaxed. There was no defense in his posture. He wasn’t even tense. “The worst he’s done was box my ears for running around a crime scene. Then again, he’s the only adult that seems to think a child shouldn’t be around a crime scene, so… I think that evens out.”

KID wasn’t thrilled with the answer, but he was sure Tantei-kun was smart enough to go to the authorities if someone was abusing or neglecting him. Or, at least, KID hoped so. (He made a mental note to check in, just in case.) “Then why?”

“I… can’t tell you,” Tantei-kun said through his teeth, like the answer had to be dragged from his throat.

“Then I can’t give you more,” Kaito said simply.

“KID-!”

“I’m sorry, Tantei-kun, but I’ve been an enabler for too long.” Kaito held up his hands in a ‘what can you do’ gesture. “If you want more concealer, you’re going to have to tell me what you want it for.”

Tantei-kun pursed his lips, eyes tracing Kaito’s face in a calculating manner. When it became apparent there was no way around it, he hissed a sigh through his teeth, dragged a hand through his hair, then threw his arms open wide. “Okay! I’ll tell you!”

Kaito straightened, eager to finally get an answer to the questions that had plagued him for months now.

“But not here.” Tantei-kun gave the empty hallways a look. “Too risky. You know where Agasa’s house is?”

“The scientist you and your friends hang out with?” KID thought for a moment. “Yeah, I know of him.”

“Meet me at his house. Tonight,” Tantei-kun ordered. “I’ll tell you there.”

“Got it.” KID nodded. Then he blinked when Tantei-kun held out a hand. “Ha?”

“I promised to tell you, so hand it over,” Tantei-kun clarified.

“Oh-ho no.” KID shook his head. “No way, Tantei-kun. I’m holding it ransom.”

“You think I won’t keep my promise?” Oh, the boy looked pissed at that.

“Promise? Yes.” KID poked the kid’s cheek. “Not call Nakamori-keibu in an ambush since you already got what you want? No.”

The kid clicked his tongue. “You’re sharper than I give you credit for.”

“I should be insulted by that,” KID said. “But now, I’m just disappointed in you. To think, my favorite critic would try to ambush me!”

“Just for that, I’m telling Nakamori to check all of his officers.”

Tantei-kun didn’t. But he did warn Nakamori that KID was waiting for rain in order to pull off his heist. In spite of the extra information, KID still managed to pull of his heist with more fanfare than usual, given it was a ‘reverse’ heist.

And that Tantei-kun thanked him afterwards, well, that was just icing on the cake.

*             *             *             *             *

Kaito found himself standing outside a large house, staring down at a little girl and floundering for words. “Uh… is… Conan-kun here?”

The girl stared for a long moment before looking over her shoulder. “Edogawa-kun! Your thief is here!”

Wha— how rude! Kaito had gone through the painstaking effort to disguise himself as Mouri Ran again. She could at least have the decency to treat him like the woman he was!

On second thought, how had she known…?

“I told her you were coming by,” Tantei-kun said, face pinched in a scowl. “Can you not dress like Ran when we talk? This is already hard enough as it is.”

“Hmm…” Kaito dropped a few smoke bombs and flash-changed his outfit. Hakuba Saguru posed on the doorstep, self-righteous smirk in place. “This better?”

Tantei-kun gave him an unimpressed look. “… I’ll take it. Come in.”

He and the little girl stepped to the side to allow Kaito in. Tantei-kun continued further in as the girl closed the door behind him.

“Concealer,” the girl ordered, hand out.

“…I’m sorry?” Kaito stared down at her.

“Haibara is working on recreating the formula for the concealer you have,” Tantei-kun clarified from the couch in the spacious living room. “That way I don’t have to rely on you to get more.”

“Aw, but then how else will I convince you to let me go?” KID whined. Still, he dug out the small bottle and dropped it into waiting hands.

“Something tells me you can get by without me blackmailing you.” Tantei-kun wrinkled his nose. “Or the other way around.”

“Hmm… that’s fair.” Kaito seated himself on the other couch, facing his little critic like the opponents they were. “Now, why do you need the concealer? And so much of it, at that.”

“For starters, both Haibara and I need it. Your comment of how it should last twice as long as it has been? Doesn’t pan out when you have two people using it. As for why I need it…” Tantei-kun inhaled stiffly and straightened his shoulders. “I need to hide my Mark. My Soulmark.”

Kaito blinked. Then laughed. “Hah! Right. A six-year-old with a Soulmark? Really, Tantei-kun, I thought we were being honest here.”

“We are. I am,” Tantei-kun said, voice agitated. “I’m not actually six. I’m sixteen. My Mark appeared on my tenth birthday, like all other Mark Soulmates. When I got turned into a child, it didn’t go away.”

“Right… and how, exactly did you get turned into a child?” Kaito couldn’t help the disbelief in his voice. Yes, Tantei-kun was quite smart for a child, but all physical evidence pointed to him being some sort of prodigy, not a sixteen-year-old turned six.

“I was investigating some shady dealings by men in black suits. They got the jump on me and forced me to down some experimental medicine. All their previous research said it was supposed to kill people, but a microscopic percentage…” Tantei-kun looked down at his hands. “Get turned into this.”

“So you’re saying that a magic drug de-aged you… and you expect me to believe this?” Kaito’s eyebrows rose at the absurdity.

“Edogawa-kun is not the only person it happened to,” the little girl, Haibara, said as she came to sit beside Tantei-kun. She had a rag in hand and was wiping at her own skin. Flakes of concealer came off on the rag until a black script could be seen. Mitsuhiko Tsuburaya was printed as plain as day. “I took the pill of my own accord, but it had similar results. Since then, I’ve found myself here, living as someone else.”

The words… looked real, but Kaito knew just how easily they could be fabricated. With a wave of his hand, he pulled out a handkerchief and a small bottle of his home-made solvent and dabbed a bit on the cloth. He reached forward, then paused. “May I?”

Haibara looked uneasy, but offered her arm.

“What is that?” Tantei-kun demanded as he watched on with scrutinizing eyes.

“An all-around solvent,” Kaito explained as he took a gentle hold of her wrist. “Works on most household stains: markers, pen, makeup, grease, et cetera. Strong enough to pull them off, but still gentle enough to not irritate skin.”

As he spoke, he worked at the black words, as if they were a difficult smudge. But after working diligently for several seconds, he pulled away the cloth to reveal the black lines, still as clear as day. They were no impermanent markings. So either someone had the insane notion to allow their six-year-old to get a name tattooed on their wrist, or… “It’s real.”

“Like I said.” Tantei-kun huffed.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” KID said as he threw the handkerchief up. It disappeared in mid-air as he secreted away the bottle of his solvent. “It is not every day, my favorite critic turns out to be a de-aged… how old did you say you were?”

“Sixteen,” Tantei-kun replied.

Kaito blinked. That was the same age as him.

“And I was eighteen before I was shrunk,” Haibara added, running her fingers over her wrist. “And I do say ‘shrunk’. If we were de-aged, then our Marks should have left too. As they have not…”

“Then time wasn’t re-wound.” Kaito got the gist of what she meant. “So you’re using the concealer to cover your Marks, so that people don’t know that you’ve shrunk.”

“That and to evade the organization that is behind the toxin that shrunk us.” Haibara looked down at her lap. “I was with them for many years before I managed to get away. They know me. They know what I look like. They know what Mark I have. If they were to ever find me, they would put a bullet through my skull before I ever had a chance to run.”

Kaito swallowed thickly and tried not to think about the snipers that sometimes took shots at his heists. He tried not to think of the men who had killed his father, or the impossible chase they were competing against him in. There was no way Tantei-kun’s organization and his could be related.

No way… right?

“As for me,” Tantei-kun said loudly and without caution. “I just don’t believe in Marks.”

That brought Kaito up short.

“Are you surprised?” Tantei-kun asked. Kaito wondered what had given him away. “You shouldn’t be. You of all people should know that some people don’t believe in the Marks.”

“I have my own reasons for keeping mine covered. Not the least of which being how easy it would be to track me down as a civilian if the Inspector was able to see my Mark,” Kaito explained. It was an excuse in every sense of the word. Even if the Inspector saw, it wouldn’t help. Kuroba Kaito didn’t have a Mark. He never had.

“Is that so?” Tantei-kun made a discerning noise before giving a shrug. “I just don’t want to subscribe to the idea of Nominative Determinism.”

KID frowned. He hadn’t heard of that before. “Noma… what now?”

“The idea that I’ll fall in love with someone just because their name is on my wrist.” Tantei-kun paused, then rolled his eyes. “Or, technically, it has to do with certain people being named certain things and then going on to follow a certain career path. Like a person named Hiro becoming a policeman or a person with the last name Bowser going on to lead Nintendo. But I think it applies to this situation too.”

“Please.” Haibara sighed heavily, like this was an argument they had multiple times before. “You just don’t want to believe in fate.”

“Some meta-physical entity that guides all people to a certain end despite the free-will people exert over their own lives is just a bunch of hog-wash.” Tantei-kun huffed.

“And the fact that meta-physical entity also knew that you preferred men over women just happens to be a coincidence.” Haibara pointed out.

Tantei-kun just scowled at her.

“So you aren’t planning to look for your Marked?” KID asked. “I have to say, this is the first time I’ve met someone who didn’t want to find their Soulmate.”

“I want to, I just don’t want it to be because of some ink on my skin!” Tantei-kun waved a hand around as if it would get his point across. “The names don’t even mean anything!”

“Oh?” KID cocked his head to the side. “How so?”

“Look at it this way. Say that the name on my wrist is something like… Okino Yoko,” Tantei-kun decided at random. “Who’s the first person to pop into your mind?”

“The famous celebrity,” KID answered without hesitation.

“Exactly!” Tantei-kun pointed to him. “But Okino Yoko isn’t the only one to have that name. There could be another Okino Yoko in Kyoto that lived her entire life as a shopkeeper or maybe one in Hokaido that is the CEO of a business. Either one of them could be my ‘Soulmate’ but because I recognized the celebrity first, I would become fixated on her, whether she has my name or someone else’s or no name at all. And that’s just one example!”

He threw his hands up in emphasis. “Think of how many people have the first name Hiro! Or over in America, the last name Smith! There are only so many last names and so many first names that people use. It is not entirely outside the realm of possibility that the name on your wrist could be shared by dozens of people around the world. That’s not even taking into account the people who legally change their names over the years.”

“And so, instead of trying to find the right one, you decide not to try at all?” KID couldn’t help a raised brow. “That doesn’t sound like you, Tantei-kun.”

“I’m not giving up.” Tantei-kun scowled. “I’m just not letting myself worry over it. If I like a person, I’ll ask them out. If I don’t like someone, I’m not obligated to go on a date just because they have the right name. I may have a name on my wrist, but I’m not going to let it rule my life.”

That was… a unique way of looking at things. A brave way of looking at things. Kaito… he wished his reason was just as good. In the end, though, he was just a coward.

“Which is why Haibara needs more samples of your concealer, so I can keep using it even when I put you behind bars,” Tantei-kun said decisively.

Kaito couldn’t help a laugh at that. “Well, you keep at it, Tantei-kun. I’m sure you’ll get me one of these days.”

“What makes you think I haven’t already?” Tantei-kun asked. Kaito froze. “Haibara, how long does it take for emergency services to respond to a phone call?”

“About eight minutes,” Haibara said calmly.

It had been seven minutes since Kaito walked in. Seven minutes since Tantei-kun had come to the door. Seven minutes since Kaito had handed off the newest sample of his concealer.

Alarms sounded in the distance.

*             *             *             *             *

That was a dirty trick Tantei-kun pulled, but Kaito really couldn’t blame him. Their little game of cat and mouse wouldn’t be nearly as fun without a little surprise every now and then.

Oh, he’d managed to get away, of course, but it told KID that he had to be careful not to let his guard down around the little detective, no matter how adorable the boy was.

(Should he really be thinking that? Tantei-kun was a child after all. Or technically, he was sixteen? But then, Kaito didn’t think his sixteen-year-old self would be categorized as ‘adorable’. ‘Dangerous’ maybe, or ‘sexy’ if Kaito was feeling generous. He didn’t actually know what Tantei-kun looked like grown up, but for as active as the boy was, he had to be a looker.)

Despite the latest failure, the boy didn’t let up. He still hounded KID for another bottle of concealer every few months—which KID handed over easily now that he knew the boy’s reasons. Tantei-kun still tried to turn him in every chance he got, despite the fact that Haibara had yet to recreate the formula that KID used to make the concealer. KID wondered, idly, if Haibara had stopped making progress on purpose.

A certified child genius, already holding a PhD in chemistry and biology? No way it took her more than a month or two to figure it out.

But she didn’t, so Tantei-kun kept coming back to him and the cycle repeated itself over and over again.

Until one day, there was a change.

On the Mystery Train heist, Tantei-kun tracked KID down again, but instead of demanding a bottle of concealer, he nearly begged KID for his help in saving Haibara’s life. Kaito ended up in a train car full of explosives for his troubles and had to ditch a fast-moving vehicle to hang-glide his way to safety, but he liked to think he and Tantei-kun came to and understanding.

That, and he got Tantei-kun’s phone number, so he could antagonize him all he wanted from a safe distance away.

Annoying text messages turned into random memes, then into angry phone calls and quiet murmurings in the middle of the night.

Kaito learned that the organization Tantei-kun was after had eerily similar goals to his own. They both sought immortality. They both worked under codenames and a strict set of ‘no-second-chance’ rules. They both worked for one, unknown individual that seemed to be pulling all the strings.

The similarities were too close to ignore.

“We might be after the same thing here,” Tantei-kun said, voicing the one subject neither had broached since the beginning of their strange alliance. “These organizations, they’re too similar.”

“Similar doesn’t always mean the same, Tantei-kun,” Kaito replied easily, though he couldn’t find any doubt to back it up. “Correlation doesn’t always equal causation. You, of all people, should know that.”

“Even so,” Tantei-kun’s tone shifted lower, as if suddenly worried someone would overhear. “I think we should keep each other posted. Something I find might benefit you and something you find might give me another lead.”

“So you want to, what? Work together?” Kaito couldn’t help the grin playing at his lips. “A thief and a detective?”

“We’re pooling our resources,” Tantei-kun said but without his usual bite. “Just… keep me updated, okay? I’ll keep you in the loop too.”

“Roger, Meitantei.” Kaito gave a little mock-salute, even though he knew Tantei-kun wouldn’t be able to see. “How about we make it a little competition, ne? See who can take down their organization first?”

Tantei-kun just scoffed in answer.

So they began to exchange information. Tantei-kun shared bits and pieces of his daily life as he tried to track down the people who had shrunk him. Kaito very carefully divulged the pieces he thought couldn’t be traced back to himself. Their talks moved from information to checking in to relaying silly tales about the day.

It was smooth. It was subtle. The way that Tantei-kun moved into his life. Kaito didn’t realize just how much it meant to have the other boy, the other teen, as an ally, (as a friend) until one question had him stopping cold in his tracks.

“Where did you even come up with the recipe for this concealer?” Tantei-kun wondered aloud. “Haibara swears there’s nothing like it on the market. It’s super practical—it barely comes off when I wear my watch over it! You must have gone through a lot of trial and error to get it to work right.”

And Kaito… couldn’t help the painfully true answer that slipped through his teeth. “I didn’t.”

“What?”

“I didn’t come up with it,” he repeated stiffly, mouth working on its own. “I… got the recipe from someone else.”

There was a long pause before Tantei-kun spoke. “The first Kaitou KID.”

Kaito gasped, eyes going wide. “How… How did you…?”

“It doesn’t take a genius to see that the KID from before the seven year gap was far more cautious than you. He didn’t flaunt his skills. He didn’t play to the crowd. Sure, he was a performer, but he was calm, cautious, had everything laid out to the point where he could literally walk through the police officers, pluck the gem from the display, and disappear,” Tantei-kun listed off. “You aren’t like that.”

“What?” Kaito let out a bitter laugh. “Are you saying I’m not good enough? Are you saying the first KID was better?”

It wouldn’t be a lie. And Kaito knew that all too well.

“Not at all. The first KID was talented, but he was there with a goal. He wanted the items he stole. He didn’t want to play up the crowd more than he had to,” Tantei-kun said quietly. “You… you take risks. Big risks. Scaling-the-side-of-a-building risks. But they always pay off. Your fans always come back for more and draw a larger and larger crowd. He would appear in the spotlight, but you… you live in it. There’s not really a way to compare the two of you, other than the First KID and the Second.”

Despite himself, Kaito’s eyes started to burn. His nose got a little clogged and his throat got a painful lump in it. Because Tantei-kun had just complimented him, had seen Kaito’s plights and acknowledged him and set him equal to the first KID—to his father, Kuroba Toichi.

And Tantei-kun would never lie about this.

“He was my father,” Kaito croaked before he could stop himself. “The first KID. He was my father.”

Tantei-kun didn’t say anything. The silence was an answer in and of itself.

“He was after Pandora too. Just like I am. He’s the reason I’m searching for it.” Kaito paused to take a steadying breath and blink back the tears. This pain was years old. He should be over it by now. It still hurt, especially since… “The organization… they killed him for it. They found out his identity, and killed him in front a crowd of people… in front of me. They made it look like an accident, and I believed that for years, and then—!”

“And then you found out the truth,” Tantei-kun finished when it got too hard to speak. “And decided make them pay.”

Kaito managed to make some noise of confirmation.

“While I don’t like the way you went about it, I can understand your reasoning.” Tantei-kun let out a tired sigh. “Looks like we’ve both dug our own holes, huh?”

Kaito let out a wet laugh.

“Your father… were he and your mother…?”

“Soulmates,” Kaito confirmed. “When he… when he was gone… it shattered her. It took weeks for her to get out of bed. Months to even start to get her life back in order. Even now, she can’t stay in the house for long because it’s where he lived. I could only do so much.”

“I’m sorry that happened,” Tantei-kun said. “I’m sorry you had to recover from that. I’m sorry you had to help her recover from that.”

“Sometimes… Sometimes I think…” he started, non-sequitur. He clutched the phone tighter to himself, spoke more softly as if it would keep the truth from escaping. “I think… that it would be better off if they hadn’t met. If they hadn’t fallen in love. If they hadn’t been Soulmates, because then… then she wouldn’t have been so hurt.”

Tantei-kun took a long moment to think before answering. “I think she would disagree. I think she would say that, even though there was pain, she had some of her happiest moments with him. Most every Soulmate says that. And besides, if they hadn’t fallen in love… they wouldn’t have had you.”

“And I’m someone special?�� Kaito either laughed or hiccupped, he wasn’t sure. “I’m just a thief.”

“A thief who has done more daring stunts than anyone alive. A thief who has consistently remained out of law enforcement hands through sheer will and luck alone. A thief who is taking on an entire underground criminal syndicate in order to avenge his father who had left this world too early,” Tantei-kun said heatedly. “Calling you ‘just a thief’, is like calling me ‘just a detective’.”

“I guess you would know, Meitantei.” And this time, Kaito knew it was a laugh.

“I would indeed,” Tantei-kun said, matter-of-factly. Then his voice softened again. “Is that… why you hide your Mark? Is that why you don’t believe in Soulmates?”

“… I believe in them,” Kaito said quietly. He sniffled, trying to keep the nasally tone out of his voice. “I just… don’t know if I’m strong enough to be with one. Or if they are strong enough to handle having me as one. If I went out the same way as my father…”

The thought of someone else going through what his mother had… it was painful. For it to be someone he loved? Someone he wanted to be happy? Someone he only wished to see a smile from?

The thought was agonizing.

“… I won’t try to tell you how to act or how to think. If you want to avoid them, I won’t try to convince you otherwise,” Tantei-kun said. “But for what it’s worth? I think anyone would be grateful to have you. For however much time you gave them.”

And in spite of himself, Tantei-kun’s words really did make Kaito feel better.

*             *             *             *             *

After their talk, they grew closer in a way Kaito could not verbalize. They didn’t meet up more often. They didn’t call any more than they had (though it was a lot to start with). The subject of their calls did change from time to time, but not with any consistency.

It was as if they had fallen into some kind of routine that Kaito never wanted to end. A sort of comfort he never thought he’d have with another person—not after covering his Mark and promising to forget about the name he’d seen.

Kaito found he didn’t want to let that go.

“Would you ever tell them?” He found himself asking one day.

It was during one of their rare physical meet-ups, where he gave Tantei-kun some more concealer, even though Haibara had definitely solved the formula long before then. He knew it was an excuse to see the other, knew Tantei-kun saw it the same, but neither of them said a word. Neither wanted the charade to end.

“Tell who what?” Tantei-kun asked, confused by the off-topic question.

“Your…” What did people call their significant others if not Soulmates? “Lover. If you end up marrying someone who doesn’t have the same name as the one on your wrist. Will you ever tell them?”

Tantei-kun looked thoughtful as he paused to ruminate. “I think… I would give them the option. I don’t want to lie to them. A relationship built on a lie isn’t a relationship at all. But I know that… some people handle the truth worse than a lie. If they don’t want to know, then I’ll keep it hidden for as long as I can.”

“As long as you can?”

“I’m not perfect and I won’t claim to be. Accidents happen.” Tantei-kun shrugged. “Despite my best efforts, they will likely find out either way.”

Yeah… Kaito had often thought the same. He opened his mouth to agree, but what came out instead was, “I want to date you.”

Tantei-kun stared at him, wide-eyed. His gaze went from Kaito, down to his tiny hands, then back to Kaito. “Um…”

Kaito flushed red. “Not now! Not when we’ve got… everything else going on! I meant when you change back.”

“If I change back,” Tantei-kun corrected bitterly.

“When you change back,” Kaito repeated with determination. “I want to meet up and… I don’t know. Go to the movies? Hit an amusement park? Walk around the zoo? Whatever normal teens our age do when they go on dates.”

Tantei-kun snorted. “Because we’re normal teens.”

“By then, we will be,” Kaito said softly. “You’ll be back to your own age, I’ll hang up the mantle of KID for good and we’ll just be… two guys, hanging out. Not six-feet away ‘cause we are gay.”

“Bi,” Tantei-kun corrected, but he had his thinking face on. He looked tentative. “And you won’t be mad that… we aren’t Soulmates?”

Honestly, the thought kind of hurt Kaito a little, but he knew he would always end up in a situation like this. Ever since he decided to ignore the ink on his skin and search for other people’s happiness instead of his own. The fact that Tantei-kun wasn’t entirely focused on their Marks matching actually helped. Instead of telling the long-winded truth, Kaito just smiled and said, “Not at all.”

Tantei-kun’s soft, grateful grin was answer enough.

*             *             *             *             *

It wasn’t a happily ever after, after that conversation.

The organization got word of Tantei-kun. They started tailing him, even as KID tried to act as the distraction. He managed to pull some attention away, but it seemed like the roaches were crawling out of the woodwork.

Tantei-kun’s parents came in to stay, and with them a few members of the American Secret Services. A few insiders in the organization managed to maintain their cover and leak information as they could, but it was obvious they could only do so much.

The game had been set. The clock was ticking forward, carrying them on toward the finally fight as the momentum picked up.

It came to a head in a fiery show-down of chaos and death.

Both sides lost people. Gin and Snake and a number of other agents were gunned down or chose to turn their guns on themselves. Very few were taken into custody. Vermouth was lost to the carnage, unable to free herself of the shadows that had claimed her.

The leader of the ring, Karasuma Renya, was caught, but whether the police would be able to press charges remained to be seen. He had been skillful at keeping his hands clean as his henchmen killed hundreds of people in their wake.

Kaito made it out with multiple sprains and contusions and one (very painful) gunshot wound. But his luck had held up and he managed to survive to see another day. With a full pardon, something he hadn’t been expecting until a piece of paper was shoved into his hands by a very stoic Nakamori.

(He was grateful he had the foresight to give himself a long-term disguise and for Tantei-kun admitting him to the hospital under the name Kaitou KID. He didn’t want to see Nakamori’s face when he realized Kaito had been behind the monocle. Hopefully, he never would.)

As for Tantei-kun… well, he had never left the safety of their home-base.

Oh, he had whined and carried on and bargained with every person that went through the door, but none had let him step foot out of the safe house until the fighting was over. For good reason, too. Though he may be sixteen in mind, taking a six-year-old into battle was just asking for bad things to happen.

He did make one hell of a Chess Master though, as he kept in touch over the headsets everyone was obligated to wear. As he called shots left and right in a deadly calm voice, Kaito was reminded, once again, just how spectacular his favorite critic was.

So Tantei-kun was safe, Kaito was recovering and Haibara was reverse-engineering the toxin that had set off the chain of events that led them to where they were today. Now, it was only a matter of resting and healing from the Day of Reckoning.

That, and meeting Tantei-kun for real, face-to-face.

Kaito still remembered Tantei-kun’s promise back before the worst was over. After having survived what could only be described as the single most idiotic decision of his life, Kaito wanted to cash in on that promise.

When he was finally released from the hospital, he decided he would do just that.

Standing on the curb just outside the front doors, Kaito fidgeted as he waited for his ride. Tantei-kun was supposed to pick him up, but the area was clear, not another car in sight. That didn’t spell good things for his nerves.

Not wanting to lose his confidence, Kaito dialed a well-known number and held his phone up to his ear. It rang twice before an unfamiliar voice answered. “To your left.”

Startled, Kaito looked to his left, only to see…

The most beautiful man he had ever met in his life. Or maybe handsome was a better word? He was impeccably dressed, white button-up ironed straight and navy blue suit jacket just reaching his wrists. His blue eyes sparkled right above a wide, familiar smile as he lowered the phone and hung it up.

He was so different and yet so familiar. It could only be—!

“Tantei-kun?” Kaito whispered, scared he was wrong.

“Technically, my name is Kudou Shinichi, but yes, I am—was the little detective that followed you around.” Tantei-kun rolled his eyes and offered a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, for real this time.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Kaito said, grasping the other’s hand firmly. He didn’t want to let go.

Then the rest of the words caught up with him.

Kaito blinked, taken aback. “Wait, what did you say your name was?”

“Kudou Shinichi?” Tantei—Kudou Shinichi frowned at him, concerned. “Why?”

Kaito hurriedly dropped their hands so he could drag his sleeve up. It took his three tries as his hands shook and he didn’t want to take his eyes off of Shinichi in order to pay attention to what he was doing.

Shinichi watched him with trepidation as Kaito rubbed off the concealer he’d covered his skin with for the last seven years. It had been days since he’d last applied it, so it rubbed off as easily as the temporary glue he used to hold on his masks.

When most of it had been scrubbed off, he held his wrist out to a now wide-eyed Kudou Shinichi who stared down at it with something akin to horror.

“No. No way.” Shinichi shook his head, then reached forward. He turned his gaze this way and that, like it would change the words if he looked at it the right way. But no, Kudou Shinichi remained scrawled across Kaito’s skin in the deepest of blacks. “That’s not—! That’s not possible! You couldn’t have known!”

“I didn’t,” Kaito said, a little slack-jawed. “I didn’t know who you were until today.”

“But that can’t—!” Shinichi abruptly cut himself off. His sharp gaze came up, trapping Kaito in its magnetic hold. “What’s your name?”

“Kuroba Kaito,” he answered, a little breathless. Because it couldn’t be. It couldn’t just work like that. Fate couldn’t be that spot-on… right?

“But that’s—! But I—!” Shinichi dropped his arm to turn around and yell at the sky. “No!” then he turned to Kaito. “No!”

Kaito wilted at the vehemence with which the word was spat. “No?”

“No, I mean, not ‘no’ to you!” Shinichi hurriedly tried to correct himself. “’Yes’ to you, but ‘no’ to Fate because that can’t—! This cannot be happening! This is bullshit!”

Kaito frowned and reached out to grab Shinichi’s flailing hands. His action was surprising enough to give the detective pause, a hesitation Kaito took advantage of as he checked his right wrist, then his left. It was when Kaito let go one and started to take off Shinichi’s watch that the detective realized what he was doing. “No, Kaito, wait—!”

Kuroba Kaito stared back at him, a little dusty from the remains of the concealer the watch had rubbed away.

“We’re Soulmates,” Kaito breathed as Shinichi yanked his hand free. He looked up, still reeling from the shock. “We’ve known each other for at least a year and we were Soulmates!”

“Things cannot work out this well!” Shinichi continued on with his rant. “The probability of having matching Marks in a world full of ‘Kuroba Kaito’s and ‘Kudou Shinichi’s is so infinitesimally small that—!”

“You didn’t know my name until two minutes ago,” Kaito said as he caught the other by the waist. Shinichi leaned away from him with obvious disapproval, but didn’t try to escape his hold. Kaito just rested his chin on the other’s shoulder. “You can’t claim Nominative Determinism when you didn’t even know who I was.”

“I knew who you were,” Shinichi grumbled, but slid his arms under Kaito’s and hooked his fingers into the back of his jacket. “I knew you were annoying and over-dramatic and… kind and smart and selfless to a fault...”

“Careful! I’ll think you’re complimenting me.” Kaito laughed.

“And egotistical,” Shinichi finished, just to be contrary. “I knew you. I just didn’t have the name to go with it.”

Kaito hummed in agreement. “Best name ever, huh?”

Shinichi let out a sigh, but answered. “Wouldn’t change it for the world.”

And for once, Kaito agreed.

“… I still don’t believe in Fate.”

“Shinichi, by this point, I don’t think you can argue against it.”

“No! Fate isn’t real! Just like Luck and Magic! It’s just a bunch of made up things to make people feel better about themselves!”

“A certain girl in my class would have something to say against you.”

“What was that?”

“I was asking if you wanted to go to the zoo? After all, you did promise me a date, didn’t you?”

A content sigh. “Yeah, I suppose I did.”

It was the best date in history, in Kaito's humble opinion. As well as every date after that.

#dcmk #dcmk fic #fanfic #kaishin #Kuroba Kaito #kudou shinichi #ai haibara #soulmate au #soulmate alternate universe #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #shinichi x kaito

[robbyrobinson]

OWL HOUSE X CTHULHU MYTHOS: GODS AWAKEN: Pt. IX: ASTRAL VISITOR 

"Boscha!?"

Luz jolted back with a startle. She found herself once more in the gaze in one of her most tensely hated enemies. With her vision crystal clear now, she could see that she was indeed hit over the head with one of the three-eyed pink girl's crutches. In fact, she was slugged pretty good. Luz rubbed the side of her temple, and she felt a round bump protruding from it.

"Oh, good to see that I didn't kill you," Boscha said putting on a false sense of concern, "I would've wanted to humiliate you first before killing you."

Luz tried to push herself up, but Boscha weighed her down with her foot. Nyarlathotep transformed back into the bat like monstrosity and held Eda and King in his clutches. King still did not regain consciousness. Luz stared at Boscha again. Something felt different about the spoiled brat since she last met her. An unknown power surged through the pink girl's body; an ancient, primordial force predating the known universe.

"Boscha, I know that you are a real jerk and all, but how did you even meet up with this..." Luz stared at Nyarlathotep with contempt. "Ugly, hideous thing."

"Guilty as charged!" Nyarlathotep remarked.

Boscha restrained her foot and walked an inch away from Luz. "It was after what was probably the worst day of my life."

Luz scoffed. "You have only yourself to blame for what happened."

Boscha kicked Luz in the side invoking Luz to groan.

"You have been a constant thorn in my side ever since you first started attending school. Amity and I used to be closer, but now she had gotten soft; she won't even bully any of the bottom of the rank."

Luz rolled her eyes. "Amity told me everything; about how she always felt miserable when she was forced to hang out with you."

"Miserable?" Boscha asked "all I did was teach her to be tough; no one would ever step on her."

Luz stared at Boscha again. How could anyone that cruel be so clueless? She looked at Eda who was squirming to free herself and King from Nyarlathotep.

"Amity told me your secret."

Boscha had pulled out her purple scroll and was looking at Penstagram when Luz informed her. Boscha tensed up and dropped the scroll. "I said that in confidence and Amity promised to keep it a secret..."

While she was distracted, Luz got up on her feet and grabbed a stick. With quiet precision, she sketched the ice glyph and pressed the palm of her hand on it. When Boscha turned around, a thick icicle was poking dangerously close to her third eye.

"You're a half-witch, aren't you?" Luz asked.

Boscha grabbed the icicle and tore a piece of it. Nerves were forming on the surfaces of her eyes. "Don't call me that!"

She ran towards the human girl unprovoked. Luz dropped to the ground, stick in hand, and crafted a larger version of the ice glyph. Boscha was within arm's reach when Luz jumped on the glyph. Boscha held the icicle firmly and jabbed it in a savage fashion. Before it could make contact, a huge column of ice erupted from the ground catapulting Luz.

Enraged, Boscha drew a spell circle in the air and shot a wall of fire towards the beam of ice.

"Luz, look out!" Eda yelled.

Luz turned to stare at her mentor to see what the commotion was, but she could more than feel it. The intensity of the heat seared a gaping hole within the ice column and was melting. The bottom of the column was waning thin forcing her to dash further towards the top but with the rush of wind and downward spiral, Luz had difficulty with staying on.

Boscha shot balls of fire towards the human girl in unprovoked precision. Luz saw the fire hurdling towards her. The top of the column was receding faster as a result of the fire. Droplets of water wrapped around the human girl like a blanket; shielding her, the fire was dosed. Luz fell to the ground on some soft shrubbery.

"You seem awfully stronger since we last saw each other, Boscha," Luz noted.

"What gave it away?" Boscha asked half-heartedly. "But I should expect something of that sort from a human pet like yourself."

Luz got up again and held her fists out. "So that is why you bully Willow so much."

Boscha clenched her fists. "Amity promised that she would never tell anyone."

"You thought you would make yourself feel superior to Willow by lying about being a fully-fledged witch when your Dad was..."

Boscha shot out fire ball after fire ball but Luz swiftly dodged each one. "Don't you dare say it!"

"A jinn."

Something broke within the three-eyed girl. Instead of firing at Luz again, Boscha instead lunged at her and pressed her against the ground. All Luz could see were fists of fury flying down on her. Luz instinctively dodged most of the blows except for the instances where she was hit on the jaw.

"Yeah, that's right, your father isn't a full witch either isn't he?" Luz screamed. "What makes you think that gives you permission to mistreat Willow?"

"I hate Willow because she is too much like how the old me was!" Boscha shrieked. She got on top of Luz and slammed her fists on Luz's chest. "I was a weak, friendless, loser like how that half-a-witch was."

Eda's squirming became more forceful, but the grip Nyarlathotep held on her was infinite. "Let me go, you black floormat!"

Nyarlathotep ignored the Owl Lady's protests and quietly observed the fight. "Wonderful show isn't it?"

"I swear if you let Boscha kill Luz, I-"

Nyarlathotep placed one of his large claws over Eda's mouth. "Honey, no, you misunderstand; the human girl is much too valuable to let perish." He stared at King's lifeless body for a couple minutes. "I've just made it possible for my dear Boscha to – for a lack of a better term – sort out her troubles."

Boscha was tiring herself out rather quickly. She had already beat Luz's chest for what felt like hours and now she was growing bored with it. Luz refused to say anything further and it too took the fun out for the three-eyed girl. Her fists also felt numb from the consistent pounding she did. "I was bullied every day for when I was at school, at least until I met Amity."

"And so you thought that befriending a Blight would make you stand out in your social ranking?" Luz inquired.

"Because of that, I became someone that was feared." Boscha got off Luz and eyed her with disgust. "And when she introduced me to Grudgby, I became one of the biggest students on the campus."

Luz snickered.

"What are you laughing about?" Boscha asked. She was clearly becoming annoyed.

"Your story," Luz said in between her chuckles, "is just...pathetic."

The pupils in Boscha's eyes shrank. "What did you just say?"

Luz lifted her upper body from the ground. "You are nothing like Willow."

"Well, of course not," Boscha stated, "unlike her, I decided to not be someone's target practice anymore."

"You bullied Willow her whole life for every little thing," Luz retorted, "her appearance; her kind nature; and yet not once did Willow ever feel that she needed to pick on others."

"What are you saying?" Boscha, her rage feeling reinvigorated, drew another fire ball into her hand. She waited for whatever bad word Luz would say next.

"I am saying that for all the acting toughing and dominant, you are really just an insecure brat who decided to belittle others because you felt inadequate."

The fire ball disappeared from Boscha's hands. She went speechless for a few moments Luz's words still buzzing around like an invasive pest. She gritted her teeth loudly.

"That's right," Luz spoke defiantly, "you are nothing more than an insecure girl who bullies others to look cool, but you are desperately afraid that if you don't do so, then your social life is over."

A low growl came from her attacker. "You're dead!"

Pain surged through Boscha's leg. "Wha-"

The bones holding up her leg splintered and fractured. Without any indication, Boscha fell on the ground just shy of Luz. She grabbed her shin to ease the pain. "By the Titan, this hurts!"

Luz stood up and scratched her chin. "Huh. Looks like your leg got rebroken."

Boscha shot Luz a look. "I know that you ingrate!"

She wanted to strike the human girl once more, but her leg was shot. Nyarlathotep saw this and released his hold over Eda. "Come on, Boscha, we should get going."

The first thing that Eda did was hold her staff and held it in front of Nyarlathotep to intimidate him. "You're not going anywhere!"

Nyarlathotep scoffed. "Oh, I have had more than enough of my fill in fun, thank you very much."

Nyarlathotep flapped his wings and lifted his large frame off the ground. "I'm very delighted to have finally met you, Luz."

He gently grabbed Boscha with his right arm and tucked her in his hand. "I hope to see you all again soon."

With that, Nyarlathotep began to fly in the air. Luz, seeing them leave, held out a stick.

"Come back here, you...you...tree murderer!"

Eda tapped her hand. "I think that will do for today."

"But...but..."

Eda gave Luz a stern glare. Luz put her arms down to her sides and sighed. "Okay."

Boscha thrashed around in Nyarlathotep's hand. "Why...Why did you stop me from accomplishing my revenge?"

Nyarlathotep placed his finger on his mouth. "Hush now, we shall get our due justice soon, just trust me."

"I thought you healed my leg," Boscha whined, "you tricked me!"

"No, dear," Nyarlathotep said in a sympathetic voice, "I only gave you a small fragment of my power so that you could fight her."

"A small fragment?"

"Yes; I have acquired a small bit of my power back from the palismans and their source, but I am far from being all-powerful."

Boscha's head lowered. "So..we lost?"

Nyarlathotep grinned and his grin reached the tips of his mouth and wrapped around his head. "Far from it! Remember how I explained that my powers were stripped due to those glyphs?"

Boscha perked up. "Yeah?"

"What she did not realize was that she helped our cause."

"How?"

"By using the ice glyph," Nyarlathotep clarified. "When she used it, she unwittingly broke that seal, so chin up, dear, we are moving ever so closer to our goals!"

Boscha smiled back in response to the news. "What shall we do now?"

"I need you to recuperate," Nyarlathotep answered.

Boscha's eyes widened again. She shook her head in defiance. "So you are just going to throw me away too?"

Nyarlathotep rubbed a claw on her cheek. "No, as your mentor, I need to keep you safe; what good are you to die without fulfilling your purpose?"

Boscha nodded. She knew that he was right, but she still thought she was being discarded like trash. "Then who will you get to help us now?"

Nyarlathotep chuckled. "There are many pawns to weave through, but I sense that someone is totally willing to assist us."

"Who is it?" Boscha asked.

"I'll explain it to you soon, my dear child. Now, it's time to sleep. Do dream about chaos and other unpleasantries."

The gang returned to the Owl House sometime after. Hooty, once again, greeted them.

"Hey, guys!" Hooty hooted "you were gone all day; wanna know what I have been doing?"

Eda covered her head with her hand. "Look, we don't have all day to listen."

"Hoot, hoot! I have a riddle for you!" He hooted louder than before with his high-pitched voice. "I begin with four legs; then two; then three! Guess and I-"

Eda jabbed him in the eyes. "I ain't playing charades now, bird."

"OW!" Hooty lamented "fine, fine, sheesh!"

Hooty opens the door and the gang walks in. Before they could react, they saw the bat baby flying everywhere wreaking havoc throughout the house. The furniture, sans the couch, were ripped and shredded to chunks. Potions were poured all over the floor one in particular being a green, liquid that corroded through the floor leaving a gaping hole.

Toys were discarded and massacred and Luz's sleeping mat was somehow hanging on the ceiling. Lilith was still on the couch, but this time, she held a frying pan in her hand thus meaning that she did leave the couch while they were away. She cowered at the flying bat beast before her.

"What the hey, hey!" Eda remarked, "what happened?"

Lilith looked at her younger sister with fearful eyes. "You don't want to know."

"I just needed you to babysit the kid," Eda stated, "not make the house a warzone."

Lilith crossed her arms. "I told you that I couldn't raise a child."

She glanced over at Luz and saw her injuries. "Woah, what happened to your kid?"

"King? King, time to wake up."

King slowly opened his eyes but only through a small dint due to the light being too bright. "What happened?"

Luz pat his head. "You passed out little guy."

King looked around the house seeing the faces of those he recognized. "How did I get back here?" He took a longer glance around. "And why is the house a wreck? Did a goblin get loose in here?"

"Easy, easy on the questions," Eda said, "you really had us going when you saw that monster back there."

King could feel his head hurt again much akin to glass shards being pressed into the tender parts of his brain. "Would you guys believe that I might have seen this...thing before?"

Lilith tilted her head. "Really? Where?"

"In one of my dreams," King stated, "I feel like I remember being chased by it, and then there was some woman there...and...that is all, actually."

"What did she look like?" Luz asked.

"Maybe...brown-haired, and...I don't know, wearing a cloak, or something?"

King plopped down on a seat of the couch. Eda clapped her hands.

"Eh, we shouldn't bother trying to force him to say anything."

They agreed in unison and concluded that King needed some time to recover before he could provide other information to them. Instead, their minds were still on Boscha and Nyarlathotep. Somehow, Boscha came into contact with this mysterious entity who claimed to have some plans for the Boiling Isles. But to what extent his plans were they could not decipher.

"Well, what of this little guy's mother?" Lilith asked. She had managed to grab ahold of the monster and held it in her arms. They looked at her depressed.

"The Bat Queen is dead, Lilith," Eda said in a melancholic tone, "we are sure that the baby's siblings are also gone."

"Oh," Lilith said. "Tragic; what did this thing?"

"Nyarlathotep," Luz clarified.

Lilith shook her head. "Right, right...this Nyarlathotep fellow. What did he want with her?"

"He killed all the palismans to get to the tree that me and you carved to make our palismans," Eda explained.

Lilith's mouth dropped. "And of the tree?"

"Burned to ashes," Luz interjected. "He killed it to satiate himself."

Lilith dropped a bag of chips she was eating. "That means that Luz will never be able to make her own." Lilith caught Luz's glimpse. She was uncertain of whether or not Luz, as a human, could've even made one anyway, but now, she would never be given the chance to because it was taken from her. Lilith then stared at her sister's palisman. It was still safe and appeared fresh as though it was her first time using it. Lilith decided to change the subject as a means of clearing the air.

"So...Nyarlathotep, huh?" Lilith asked. She was eating more junk food and dropping the bags on the ground.

Eda rolled her eyes at her sister's newfound uncleanliness. "Yeah, ring a bell at all?"

"When I was in the Emperor's Coven, they did have some archives that Belos had strictly ordered to be locked away in the heart of the coven. I...actually never had any access to the hidden texts as Belos would like to call them."

"That makes it even worse!" Luz remarked. "We have to do something to stop him and Boscha!"

"But we hardly know anything about him," Eda emphasized, "who can possibly help us?"

"Oh, I can be of some assistance, madam."

The group jumped in shock at hearing an unfamiliar voice speak to them after overhearing their conversation. They glanced at each other somehow convinced that the voice – a monotonous one – came out from any of them.

There came a chuckle. "No, no, silly mortals, I am over here."

They turned to see someone standing at the far side of the room. It was a man. He was a visibly charming young man with a full beard. On his head was a crown of lively poppies that appeared to glow from the small fractals of light reflecting from them. His most startling trait, however, was his large, luminous eyes. When he opened them, his eyes were black and perfectly round. There were small glints in his massive eyes which felt like looking into the Milky Way galaxy and its celestial bodies. But through it all, what was also significant was his body.

"Are you a ghost?" Eda asked clearly fixated on the other spectre.

His body was translucent. He shook his head, but he still maintained his smile. For some reason while the smile was genuine, the gang also got the sense it was artificial or let alone forced.

"No, Owl Lady," he said, "I am no ghost; just a traveler is all."

Luz walked towards the man. Eda held her arm out to try to stop her. "Wait, Luz, this man just popped up, we can't trust him."

Luz ignored her mentor and continued her walk. Luz was in a daze, amazed by the being standing in front of her, but there was still that sense of urgency bubbling inside of her.

"Who are you and how did you know Eda's nickname?"

He chuckled once more, his deep voice shaking the house. He crossed his arms in amusement.

"Please, just call me Hypnos."

#cthulhu mythos #cthulhu #cthulhumythos #nyarlathotep #boscha #the owl house #owl house #the owl house fanfiction

[spaceskam]

our fainted thrill carries on (12/13)

ao3

warning: blood, violence, self-inflicted wound

Of all the ways Michael imagined his day going, he did not expect to be riding to a different city with Jesse Manes in the passenger seat and Maria DeLuca calling him four times in a row.

He had over an hour left, so he decided to pick up the phone despite the fact that he’d been planning to actually go see her in person. The whole mishap with finding out who Sanders was and the stupid piece (that was stuffed under the seat of his truck thanks to Rosa’s last-minute thinking) had put off going to talk to her.

“Hello?” 

“Finally,” Maria scoffed, voice laced with controlled panic, “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. Where are you at?”

“Um, a couple hours away. What’s up?” he said. She was quiet for a few seconds.

“Liz is freaking out,” Maria told him, speaking slow like she was making a point, “She-she’s not really making sense, but she said she needs you. Something about Max.”

“Fuck” Michael groaned, gripping the steering wheel tighter. On one hand, he really needed to go to Max. On the other hand… Alex needed him more. “Uh, look, give me, like, a day, okay? Tell her to get Isobel and I’ll be back. There’s something going on with Alex, so he needs me.”

“Wait, what’s going on with Alex? Is he okay?” she asked, concerning prevalent in her voice. God, they really needed to talk to her.

“I-I don’t know yet. Just, listen, tell Liz I said it’s okay and then get her to talk to you,” Michael decided, his eyes going to his passenger who was clearly listening in. He was slowly forgetting why exactly he’d taken Jesse Manes on this trip in the first place.

“What’s okay? Michael, what is going on?” she demanded. He clutched the steering wheel harder.

“I swear, we’ll talk when I get back, I promise. Just… Just do this for me, okay? Just go help Liz, she needs someone else. I’ll be there before you know it,” he said. Maria was silent for a few seconds before she quietly agreed and the call ended.

“For a creature who has managed to trick people for over two decades, you’re a terrible liar,” Jesse told him, voice far too controlled for Michael’s liking.

“Yeah, well, for a guy with four sons, you’re a terrible fucking father,” Michael sighed, dropping his phone. He pressed on the gas harder.

Why did everything have to happen in one goddamn day?

-

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Kyle said.

Alex had recently grown a renewed appreciation for Kyle Valenti, but the last few days had made that appreciation grow immensely. And, the last few hours? He was more thankful than he could even articulate.

Kyle kept checking his head and his arm, just making sure over and over that they weren’t infected. Alex was slowly but surely feeling more like himself and getting stronger, but he was definitely keeping that to himself. He was more than certain that they had cameras on them. They just had to act helpless.

He gave Kyle his arm, letting him check over the stupid fucking brand that made Alex feel ill. He didn’t want that on him. It was made all the worse when Kyle’s hand froze, his thumb hardly an inch beneath the brand. His eyes slowly flickered up to meet Alex’s and then he pressed down. Alex swallowed as he realized there was a chip beneath his skin.

Then the door at the top of the cellar opened, a single file line of three people walking in. One of them was Casey, one of them was who Alex assumed was Grandpa Cameron, and one of whom was Jenna. She had that hardened look on her face, but Alex was no stranger to it. She was playing her part, keeping herself and them safe. He would thank her for it when he didn’t have to act like he hated her.

“What the fuck is the point of all this? We’re human,” Alex said, making sure to maintain an equal amount of venom and fatigue. They couldn’t know he was feeling better.

“I’m sure you know that humans and their aliens… it’s an inseparable bond. Volatile and violent. We just have to wait for yours to show up and we can kill you both,” Grandpa Cameron said. Alex shook his head tiredly.

“I have no alien bond,” Alex said, “But if I did, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Grandpa Cameron continued and Alex hated it because they both knew Michael was probably on his way, “You’re a special one, Alex Manes. It takes a special breed of evil to bond with an alien. I have a working theory that Manes are particularly susceptible to it.”

Alex couldn’t help but furrow his eyebrows in confusion. Manes? Wasn’t it a Cameron that fell in love with an alien before? Wasn’t a Cameron the one who snuck away with Nora and gave her information about the raid?

“How cute. You really thought you knew something,” Casey laughed. His face was busted to hell still and, honestly, that made Alex feel better. 

“Oh, you must’ve heard it was a Cameron who bonded, haven’t you?” Grandpa Cameron accused, stepping closer, “Well, you’re wrong. He created the M.V.C. to be what it is today. He studied the bond by tricking an alien into thinking that’s what it was. He was never that stupid.”

Alex didn’t show it on his face, but it clicked that clearly that Cameron was that stupid. He just got his feelings hurt when it in fact wasn’t a bond and his love was one-sided and started a fucking cult in response. 

His eyes looked over them. Casey was beaten, Grandpa Cameron was about to burst with decades of anger, and Cam… Cam had that same brand on her arm. Alex looked over to Kyle. Did they not know who Kyle was? Why hadn’t he been branded?

“What, you worried your boyfriend might know you have a pet alien now?” Casey taunted. Alex’s eyes widened momentarily and then he controlled them, taking this as an advantage.

Alex couldn’t help but smile. “Oh. How cute. You really thought you knew something.”

A flash of anger crossed Casey’s face and he shared a look with Grandpa Cameron. Cam shot him a look and Alex just kept smiling.

“Why don’t you tell me something I want to know and I’ll tell you what you want to know,” Alex said, making a show of moving to lay his back against the wall. He put effort into seeming weaker than he felt. “Tell me what set of aliens you’ve been experimenting on to come to these conclusions and I’ll tell you who my friend here is.”

Alex watched Casey and Grandpa Cameron get visibly a little confused. Kyle was confused too which was fair. But, truly, he wanted to see how far he could convince them that Kyle was his alien. Maybe then they’d be taken aback when Michael showed up, guns blazing and telekinesis in full swing. He had been practicing, after all.

Casey and Grandpa shared a look before they stepped towards Kyle who instantly pushed himself closer to Alex either out of fear or sheer instinct. Alex tilted his head and shook it slightly, raising an eyebrow.

“Nuh-uh, you lay a hand on him and I tell you nothing,” Alex said, “And I know much more than you think I do.”

Again, they shared a look. Eventually, they decided they needed to talk before coming back to Alex and the three went back up the stairs. Even when they were gone, Alex didn’t show that he was scared or nervous or anything.

God, please let Michael show up before they realized he didn’t know shit.

-

“If you go in there, they’ll know what you are.”

Michael anxiously tapped the steering wheel as he sat the end of the achingly long driveway. Alex was just inside. He just had to go inside.

“And they’ll know who you are. Will they let you in, or will they shoot you on sight?” Michael wondered. He’d spent most of the drive in silence and, whenever Jesse tried to say some bullshit, he would turn up the volume. He just needed him for bait and information, really. Jesse had told him how dangerous the Camerons were before and that Alex really was in danger.

“Can’t be entirely sure,” Jesse sighed.

“But they know what I am?” Michael clarified, “Like, they know what I look like? You run off the same database?”

“Not necessarily. The Camerons aren’t as technical, they were always very much the brawn of M.V.C.”

“Why do you even have the fucking tattoo on you? If M.V.C. disbanded before you were even let in on the secret, then why do you have it?” Michael wondered. Jesse looked over at him.

“It’s principal, son,” he stated simply, “We bare the weight of our predecessors.”

Michael stared at the house and mulled over those words. Was that why Alex thought that way? Had he rejected so much of Jesse’s ideologies, yet kept that one? God, this was such bullshit. Maybe when this was all over, Alex would let him back into his bed. Even if it was just for one night. They needed it.

Michael took a deep breath and looked over to Jesse. He hated making plans and he hated making plans with Jesse, but Alex never went in blind. Alex always had a plan. Anger never got you anywhere. Anger would get them killed; plans would keep them alive.

“Alright, Dad,” Michael said, flashing a tight smile, “We’re gonna go up there and ask for my brother back in exchange for somethin’ fancy.”

“Excuse me?” Jesse said, raising a controlled eyebrow. It looked too similar, too much like Alex. Michael had to look away.

“You heard me.”

He shut the car off and reached under the seat, pulling out one of Alex’s backpacks that held the piece. He knew he brought it for a reason. Jesse didn’t question what it was, staying silent as he watched Michael put the bag securely on his back.

“Let’s go, Pops.”

With a little bit of a telekinetic shove, the two men began heading straight for the front door. The closer he got, the more he was willing to acknowledge that his plan was indeed half-assed at best. But, still, a half-assed plan was better than no plan. Maybe. Kinda. He was trying, that was the point. 

They knocked on the door and, surprisingly, Jesse played along. Michael was slightly discombobulated at the idea of Jesse actually coming along to help Alex. This was the least volatile he’d ever been. Maybe that coma was good for him. Still, Michael kept one eye on him. All it took was a moment of trust to fuck up everything. He knew that from experience.

The door opened and Jenna Cameron stood on the other side. Michael did his best to hide his confusion and took her tiny eyebrow lift as acknowledgment.

“It’s Manes!” she called. Heavy footsteps came and an old man stepped up. He was tall and lean and walked like he was the king of hell and knew it. For a moment, Michael considered asking for tips on how to do that. 

“Quicker than I thought,” he said. Jesse raised his chin to meet the eyes of the taller and older man, still managing to look down on him.

“Abel,” Jesse greeted. In that moment, Michael understood why Jesse was complying. Michael and Jesse Manes somehow share different hate for the same man. The enemy of my enemy, after all.

“Jesse,” the old man said, looking over to Michael, “And who’s this?”

“My youngest son,” Jesse said easily and, oh, Michael was close to crawling out of his skin. 

“Oh, really?” Abel said, skeptical, “Because last I saw I had your youngest in my basement.” Michael was back to hating the man in front of him.

“Tripp’s long lost son, had ‘em right before he died. Took him in,” Jesse said, taking a step closer and into the house like he was entitled to it. Michael followed his lead. “Now, why don’t we talk about my other son.”

“Don’t come here blaming us, that wasn’t planned. He was trying to play spy,” Abel scoffed, “When my Casey found out, your boy beat the shit out of him. Then we find out he’s still got that alien bond so bad he brought the damn thing with him.”

Now that was confusing. Well, the last sentence. The first bit seemed exactly like Alex. 

“Still can’t figure out why you let him go around like that. Truly shows what kinda bullshit you Manes are capable of,” Abel said, shaking his head, “Too much damn passion in all of you, that’s what my Daddy said.”

“He has an alien with him?” Michael asked, unable to stop himself. He got more attention than he would’ve liked. “I-I mean, I thought we effectively got him away from all of those creatures.” The words sounded wrong in his mouth and that didn’t go unnoticed. Abel eyed him slowly.

“Tripp’s boy, you said? Makes sense,” he said, shaking his head, “He’s got an alien with him. Which definitely makes it more worth my while to keep him. Your boy thinks we got live experiments outside of him.”

“My son isn’t your experiment,” Jesse said, still cold as ice, “It’s in your best interest to hand him over along with whatever alien you think he has.”

Michael could feel Cam’s eyes on him. He carefully let his eyes drift to hers. She covered her mouth to cough and used the motion to nod towards a door. Michael slowly began to feel out the lock to it with his mind. When she coughed again, he didn’t miss the way she held up three fingers. Three guards. 

“That would definitely not be in my best interest and you know it. I got exactly what I’ve been trying to get when your selfish old man kept all the live specimen to yourself,” Abel said.

“Chances are what you have are my boy and a Valenti boy, not an alien,” Jesse corrected, “If you did any kind of testing, you would know that.”

Abel eyed him suspiciously and didn’t seem to notice when the lock clicked. 

“A Valenti boy?” Abel said, seeming confused, “I thought they were all dead.”

“Jim wasn’t the brightest man, but he knew better than to make his son easily accessible.”

So that was a choice Jesse made. At least he could admit that.

Neither men noticed when Cam slipped into the door. Michael had full faith she could handle the guards well enough. Either that or she could at least talk to Kyle and Alex, prepare them to get the fuck out of there. 

“No alien. So why don’t you let my son and the Valenti boy go,” Jesse said. Abel seemed to consider it for only a few seconds before he shook his head.

“Your son is still bonded with one of them. The specimen will come for him eventually,” Abel said definitively. Jesse didn’t bother to spare him a passing glance, another point of self-control that Alex had and Michael most definitely did not.

“This bond you keep talking about, it’s not even real. Your entire ideology is built off something baseless,” Jesse argued. Hypocrite. “No one but me is coming.”

“I’ll just have to keep him and see.”

“Wait,” Michael said, catching both their attention, “I have an alien artifact. Authentic. I give you that, you give us them.”

Abel stared at Michael for far too many seconds. He just fucking wanted Alex.

“Let me see.”

“I don’t trust you,” Jesse said, “Show us Alex first.”

Again, more fucking staring. Eventually, though, he caved and they were being led towards that door Cam had disappeared behind. Michael clutched onto the backpack even tighter, giving that piece a tiny goodbye. As much as he wanted it and as much as he’d ruined shit with Alex over it, it seemed like a far too easy trade to save Alex in exchange.

It took an unprecedented of willpower not to run up to Alex and collapse onto him when he saw him. He looked tired, smeared makeup on his face. But he was standing and that was good. He was leaning on Kyle and showing no visible emotion as he saw Michael, but his eyes betrayed how thankful he was to see him. He needed a fucking hug.

But, unlike Abel, Michael didn’t miss the fact that there were no guards and no Cam. He swept his eyes over Alex, spotting bloody knuckles and a red spot on his forehead like he’d headbutted someone. There were a few racks of wine‒how many unconscious men laid behind them after underestimating Alex? Michael held back a big smile.

“Right, now give me the artifact,” Abel demanded.

“Give it to you while we’re in your basement? Idiotic, we’re going back upstairs and taking the boys,” Jesse ordered, gesturing back towards the steps. Michael was uncomfortably thankful for Jesse. It was easy to forget that he was actually cunning. Just not as cunning as Alex was.

They slowly made it up the stairs in a line, everything too easy and too military. Michael was just fucking waiting for something to be weird or wrong. He kept stealing glances at Alex, watching as he all but clung to Kyle. He itched for him.

Once they all got on the ground floor again (Cam appearing at the top of the steps after everyone else, her hair a little disheveled), Michael shifted the bag and unzipped it. He ignored the slightly horrified look from Alex as he pulled out the piece. Abel’s eyes widened with greed, stepping towards it.

And then things got a little weird.

Before Abel could get his hands on it, Alex and Jesse both seemed to have the galaxy-brained idea to knock him out. Jesse swung with an open fist and Alex with a closed on either side of his head, quickly rendering him unconscious and probably fucking with his entire equilibrium. He fell to the floor and Michael stared, dumbfounded.

“What the fuck are you waiting for, Guerin? Move,” Alex pushed, shoving his back gently so they could head towards the door. But Michael looked up at Jesse.

“Do you really think I’m giving this family anything? He should feel lucky he even knows the secret,” Jesse said, eyeing him with that familiar judgment, “You seemed far too comfortable with that.”

“We can talk later, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Cam said.

They all started running to the truck and maybe Michael should’ve thought it through. It wasn’t really big enough for all of them. Still, there wasn’t much thinking. Cam went for the driver’s seat and Kyle went for the passenger door. Michael jumped into the bed and reached out to pull Alex up too.

“Stop!” Alex said, causing all of them to freeze as he held out his arm. Michael felt sick at the sight of that three-headed trident. “I can’t leave. He put a fucking chip in me, he’s going to track me and we’re all fucked.”

“Then you cut it out,” Jesse instructed, not missing a beat. Alex didn’t even seem phased. Jesse pulled a pocket knife out of nowhere‒maybe Michael should’ve checked for weapons‒and took a step towards Alex. He grabbed Alex’s arm.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Alex spat, ripping out of his grip and taking a step back. 

“Then show me you’re a man and do it yourself,” Jesse said, voice stern as he held out the knife to Alex.

Michael hated the interaction and, despite all the help Jesse had done, he was quickly reminded why he hated him so much. His existence alone ate at the person Alex was. He was poison and Alex, no matter how strong, couldn’t seem to stop himself from giving it attention. 

Alex took the knife and, without hesitation or screaming or anything, cut into his forearm. Kyle hissed and went to move closer, but Cam grabbed the back of his shirt and basically yanked him into the passenger seat of the truck. Michael watched with bated breath as Alex dug into his own arm and pulled out the chip. Alex looked at his dad before looking up at Michael. With a quick nod of his head, he sent the chip flying somewhere to get lost on the property.

“Are we done being dramatic?! Let’s fucking go!” Cam yelled.

Jesse didn’t even so much as spare a bit of praise as he took his knife back and sandwiched Kyle inside the cab of the truck. Michael carefully lifted Alex into the bed and Cam was speeding away before they could even get settled. They laid down, close just like old times. Except this time Alex was bleeding all over.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Alex hissed, his body jostling with each bump they hit, “Bringing my father and then offering to trade that piece for me? Have you lost your mind? I was expecting you to come alone.”

“I would’ve fucked up things if I came alone,” he said, moving to put his arm beneath Alex’s head so he wouldn’t hurt himself more, “You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah, I just fucking cut my arm open!”

“Hey,” Michael said, whispering despite the wind making it difficult to hear, “You trust me?”

Alex furrowed his eyebrows, trying to gauge what was on Michael’s mind. But, honestly, despite all the commotion, he was more at peace than he had been in a long time. Alex was alive and there was literally nothing else he could do but stare at him for the next three hours. Might as well be at peace.

And might as well keep him safe.

“Trust you?” Alex echoed. Michael slowly moved Alex’s hand off the open wound, closing his palm over it. 

“Yeah. You trust me?”

He wasn’t quite sure he could do it, but he could definitely try. He’d been feeling a whole bunch of emotions all day… might as well direct them somewhere. All he had to do was focus, right? Besides, they still had a lot of day left. Something was going on with Max. This was just the beginning and Michael had enough drive to push himself to do something with that underused power he’d kept pent up all day.

Alex took a deep breath and slowly nodded.

“I trust you.”

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #our fainted thrill carries on

[sailorgreywolf-legacy]

Enrique and Paco, getting together at a Christmas party with the prompts "this is really corny....but you're already a gift to me" and "Your eyes twinkle like Christmas lights"

Hhhhhhh I'm soft I'm sorry

Peru found Colombia taking pictures of the llama figurines in the living room. He knew that Colombia should be there, since Venezuela had already arrived and talked to him. He waited for a moment before he said, “What are you doing?”

Colombia looked up and gave him a cute smile, and said, “I’m documenting your adorable decorations.”

He pointed to the llama figurines, which were all fit with a tiny knit Santa hats. It had been Peru’s ideas when he was contemplating his own Christmas decorations. He had extra yarn and was able to make something that he personally found amusing. Since it was tradition for him to host the Christmas party, he took great joy in making sure that his house was festive.

It had been difficult and delicate work to make the little hats, but it had been well worth it, especially if Colombia found them cute. He replied, “I’m glad that you like them.”

Colombia looked back at his phone, and flipped to the picture. He stepped closer so Peru could see his phone. He said, “Isn’t that a fantastic shot?”

Peru looked at the picture, and he could admit that he was impressed. Colombia had managed to perfectly frame the llama in front of the Christmas lights. It looked warm and inviting, and incredibly festive. Colombia was definitely talented with a camera, more than he gave himself credit for. Peru said, “Your picture looks better than my decorations.”

He was becoming increasingly aware of how close they were to each other, and it made him feel a little flustered. Colombia, seemingly oblivious to the closeness, said, “I don’t know why you won’t let me make you an Instagram.”

They had had this conversation so many times. Peru didn’t judge his friend’s love of social media, but he would never quite understand why it was satisfying to post pictures of random things.

He responded, “I would never update it if I had one.” Colombia pouted a little. He said, “I just want to show everyone how cute you are. I mean, how cute your decorations are.”

He caught himself, but not quite fast enough that Peru did not catch his first statement. Peru could feel himself starting to blush in earnest. He wanted it to be more than a slip of the tongue. There was a pink tint in Colombia’s cheeks that he tried to dismiss as just a trick of the light.

He wished that Colombia thought he was cute, because that would mean that his feelings were reciprocated. He so wanted to be true, but he also felt like it would be asking too much if he questioned the statement.

Instead, he changed the subject, “Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll get you something to drink.”

He knew it would be the easiest way to move the conversation away from his own feelings. Retreating into hospitality was easy for him, and far more comfortable. Colombia replied, “I would love some cocoa if you have any.”

Peru was surprised by the request, though he did have a pot ready for himself, and to give to anyone who got too drunk in the course of the night. He asked, slightly quizzical, “You don’t want something a bit stronger?”

Usually Colombia was not one to turn down any kind of intoxicant. The other shook his head as he followed Peru to the kitchen, and said, “No. I am going to be completely sober this Christmas. I promised my sister, and I can’t break a promise to her. It's a twin thing.”

Peru found himself smiling. He was perfectly happy to provide whatever Colombia wanted from him. He replied, “Then I’ll definitely get you a mug.” Then he paused before adding, “I'm proud of you, Kiki.”

Unexpectedly, Colombia leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek and said, “Thank you, Paco. You’ve been such a great support and I’m so grateful.”

As he walked over to pour a mug of cocoa, Peru put a hand to his blushing cheek. His face was hot. It was just a kiss on the cheek, but it meant so much to him.

He returned, cup in hand, to find Colombia staring at the pile of presents on the table. Peru handed him the cocoa and Colombia said, “Thank you. Are these all for you?”

Peru was a little surprised that he hadn’t figured it out yet, though it was different this year. Usually he sent out presents beforehand, so they were not all at the party. But this seemed easier, since everyone was in easy reach. He said, “No, they are all from me. In fact, there is one for you.”

He took a moment to dig through the pile until he found the right box. Once he had it, he offered it to Colombia. It was a neat little package wrapped up in colorful paper.

Colombia looked flustered and said, “Oh, I didn't know we were doing a gift exchange. I didn’t get you anything.”

Peru felt bad for putting him on the spot, but this was a tradition. He couldn't have possibly stopped himself from giving his usual gifts. He said, trying to clarify, “It's just a sweater, like every year. I made one for everyone.”

He paused for a moment and added with a heavy heart, “Even Santi, and he’s not coming this year.” It pained him that his youngest brother chose other company, especially on Christmas. But there were more important matters at hand, like the fact that Colombia was still staring at the pile like he felt guilty.

Peru tried again to reassure him, “You didn't need to get anything. This is really corny....but you're already a gift to me, and I'm just glad you're here.”

He hoped that would brighten Colombia’s expression, but instead he got a long silence and then the glistening of tears in the other's eyes. He was not sure what was so upsetting, but he felt bad.

Finally, Colombia said, sounding like he was holding back tears, “I am so sorry, Paco.” Peru tried to say, “The presents really aren’t-“

But Colombia cut him off and said, “It's not about the presents. I love you. And I think you have loved me for a very long time. As long as I can remember actually. But, I’ve always been too distracted by things that hurt me to see it, and I’m so sorry for that.”

Peru felt like he might cry as well. He couldn’t stand to see Colombia cry, but his heart also felt so full. The love of his life had just told him that he loved him. If anything, the tears that were threatening to break through were happy tears.

He pulled Colombia into a hug and said, “Don't be sorry, my love. If that is how you feel, that's all I care about.”

The other withdrew from the hug only long enough to look at Peru like he was going to say something. But instead he took Peru’s face in his hands and kissed him fully on the lips.

Peru was surprised, but happily melted into the touch. He closed his eyes and felt himself floating. He really couldn't be happier.

When they broke apart, Peru said, somewhat breathlessly, “That was the best present you could have given me.” He took one more breath and then added, “Just promise me one thing.”

Colombia smiled and said, “What is it?” Peru responded, “No more tears tonight.”

Colombia nodded happily.