#Abel deserves a pay raise

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Breath of the Sky Ch 14 (SS meets BotW)

Summary: When Princess Zelda goes to the Spring of Courage to pray, accompanied by her appointed knight, a giant magical cog spitting out a goddess is the last thing she expects, but it is what she gets. Meanwhile, the Spirit Maiden Zelda is trying to figure out what the heck is happening and where her missing chosen hero is.

AO3 link

Chapter 14: A Set Path

The sunlight was being hidden away by the clouds, reminding him strikingly of his days on the Surface a few months ago. It was still warm, almost too warm, but he shivered nonetheless.

Link and Zelda had been given some privacy as they’d walked away from the picnic site, instead standing on a hill overlooking a good portion of the field. In the distance there were many structures, some stone and some wood, some with people and some with strange animals.

“I didn’t think we’d be stuck doing this again,” Link finally commented, feeling Zelda’s fingers interlace with his own.

Zelda sighed solemnly, staring out at the vastness of the land alongside him. “I… didn’t either.”

There was no going home at this point. They both knew it.

“You sure this wasn’t part of your plan?” he asked, glancing at her. Given his earlier accusation, he felt like dirt even asking, but he had to at least have something to cling to.

“I wish it was,” Zelda muttered bitterly. “At least then I’d know what to do.”

Link felt… hopelessly lost. The words of assurance from the captain echoed in his mind, but what good were those assurances when Hylia’s own plan fell through?

Well. It wasn’t like Hylia had been perfect, he thought with maybe a touch too much resentment. He squeezed Zelda’s hand all the more, trying to push that out of his mind. As much as he tried to separate the two, there was no separating them. As much as Zelda insisted she was still the person he knew, that didn’t change the fact that her past was intermingled with something far beyond his comprehension.

That didn’t mean she still hadn’t used him.

What difference does that make? It was for a good reason.

A reason which had failed. But he knew that was his own doing, not Hylia’s.

Link’s gaze drifted back towards the stone pillars, towards the area in the center of the field where the other two sat. His successor and his descendant. The pair were eating quietly, one more eagerly than the other, but both seemed to occasionally remember Link and Zelda were there and would glance in their direction.

He supposed there was no avoiding them now. Not that he minded being near Zellie all that much, but goddesses above sometimes it was just too much hearing about all of it. As for his successor…

“Link, I…” Zelda started to say, her words lost in the wind for a moment. Link looked back at her, heart clenching at the torn look on her face. “I’m sorry. For all of this.”

“Don’t apologize,” he immediately replied. “This isn’t your fault, it’s mine.”

“But it all started with me,” Zelda noted quietly. “It all started with Hylia.”

Link bit his lip. He’d be a hypocrite to argue against her at this point, at least after all he’d said earlier. Goddesses he wished he’d kept silent. He tried a different tactic. “Whoever started it, I’m the one who—”

“Oh, just stop,” Zelda cut in tiredly, releasing his hand and hugging herself. “Please, just—I just—”

“I just wish it wasn’t like this,” Link finished for her, slowly wrapping his arms around her and letting her melt into the reassuring embrace.

They were in the future. The future. They were beholding the fruits of their efforts. Why couldn’t this just be a happy occasion? At least for Zelda – for Link it would’ve been beyond his comprehension, really, overwhelming and amazing and wild and wonderful, but… anything would’ve been better than this sinking realization.

It’s over. It’s finally over.

Zelda’s words, mixed with tears and choking on relief and joy, echoed in his mind. They’d thought it was over.

“What are we going to do?” he asked her.

Zelda shuddered in his hold, burying her face in his chest. “I don’t know. They… they don’t even know if the Triforce still exists.”

Link blanched, pulling away. “What? That was the entire crux of our plan!”

“I know,” Zelda cried. “I know! I don’t understand how—what—they said something about beasts, about those guardian things and the sword—”

“Fi? How’s Fi going to fix this?” Link asked. “Can she—is she even awake? Can she talk?”

He didn’t think she could, honestly – not based on her reaction when he’d held her at the festival. She’d sung, yes, but he should’ve heard her voice. Fi had said she’d go into an eternal slumber for the sole purpose of keeping Demise sealed away.

Maybe that was where they could start, then. Maybe something had happened to Fi.

“We need to talk to them,” Link said firmly, looking back at the pair again. His resolve faltered at the thought of speaking to his successor, as he didn’t really even deserve to, but Zelda’s tears motivated him well enough. If his beloved was floundering, he’d find a solution, because he would never leave her in such a helpless state.

Link’s resolve faded the closer they got to the pair, but it was too late by then. Zellie and the new Hero noticed their approach, watching them. As Link’s steps faltered from shame over his failure, Zelda took the lead, guiding him forward with a gentle hand. When the pair sat across from the other two, the Hero carefully pushed food towards Link.

Everyone stared at each other awkwardly.

“So,” Zelda said, finally taking the lead. “You mentioned guardians and divine beasts would help you fight De—Calamity Ganon. And then… you two would fight him? Right?”

Zellie looked at her Hero and then back at Zelda before nodding.

Link opened his mouth to ask about Fi and then found his voice not cooperating. He looked down, hands balling up his tunic and releasing it in anxious movements.

“And you need help with your powers,” Zelda continued.

The princess visibly wilted, looking down.

Link blinked. “What powers?”

Zellie and the new Hero’s eyes immediately went to him, widened as if he’d spoken some kind of heresy.

“I think she’s supposed to have the magic to seal him away,” Zelda answered hesitantly. “That’s what I’ve gathered, at least?”

The pair switched their horrified gazes to Zelda now. Well… at least Link wasn’t melting under their stares anymore. But why the faces?

“You—you think?” Zellie repeated. “But I—my prayers—”

“Look,” Zelda interrupted. “Let’s get this straight. Whatever prayers you’re saying, or anyone is saying—I’m not hearing them. I’m not—I don’t have that kind of power, to read people’s minds and stuff. And—and whoever you’re praying to, you’re doing it in this era, you know? I’m—we’re from the past.”

“W-well, yes,” Zellie acknowledged a little uncomfortably. But it seemed curiosity got the better of her, her eyes shining. “But—how—what is it like, where you are? Can you sense—I mean, you got here somehow, and—”

“I got here because of Link,” Zelda interrupted before hastily adding, “B-but obviously we were destined to be here, too. I mean—what else are the odds that we learn of the demon king’s survival just as you’re preparing for him? But I—this wasn’t my planning. I don’t know what’s happening. We’re trying to piece it together.”

Link’s gaze drifted towards the Master Sword, and he found himself making eye contact with the Hero wielding it. He quickly looked back at Zellie, who seemed simultaneously worried and fascinated.

“All my life, I’ve… I’ve had to try and teach myself this power,” Zellie said softly, her expression growing despairing, frustrated, before she looked hopefully at Zelda. “If you can… if Your Grace would be so kind as to help me… I…”

“I already promised you I would,” Zelda assured her with a smile. “Knight’s honor.”

Zellie blinked. “Knight’s… honor?”

“Oh. Sorry. Expression,” Zelda chuckled nervously, rubbing her hands together.

“Zelda’s a knight,” Link immediately said. “Not a goddess.”

Well. She was his goddess, but that was beside the point. The point was he knew how much this Your Grace nonsense was bothering her. He’d seen her tolerate it fine with Impa, but that was during her rediscovery of her past. She’d been trying to reconcile it since then, and Farore knew this wasn’t helping.

Zelda sighed at the bemused expressions they were receiving. “I… I am the goddess Hylia reborn. But I… look. I’m just… I was born a human like everyone else. I can barely remember my life as Hylia. I…”

“Why?” the princess asked before catching herself.

Zelda quickly waved off her apology that she was about to splutter. “Because I—Hylia, I mean—was killed. I—Hylia sacrificed herself to seal the calamity away until I could come back to defeat him with Link.”

Here she paused, looking at Link, eyes alight with love, face glowing with pride. Despite his own guilt and shame, Link couldn’t help melting a little at the gaze, smiling at her in return.

“Fascinating,” Zellie whispered.

Zelda and Link lost the girl’s wonder in their own attention to each other before his beloved finally smiled back at the other two. “If we’re going to figure out how to stop the demon king, we’ll need to see everything involved in this plan of yours. And as for your powers… my memories were awakened at the sacred springs. Maybe we could start there?”

It was interesting watching the princess’ reactions to Zelda’s words. She was delighted at first, and ashamed at the end. Clearly, her powers were a point of contention for her.

Link could sympathize. Goddess… he hoped she didn’t feel as he did, but he had a sinking suspicion that was indeed the case. How could she possibly feel such a way? It wasn’t as if her lack of abilities had caused harm yet, right? It couldn’t be any more catastrophic than his own failures – despite the obvious one, he’d also nearly let Zelda die at the hands of Ghirahim. Were it not for Impa in the Earth Temple, all would have been lost due to Link’s ineptitude.

And in the end, what difference did it make?

Link shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Stop. This isn’t helping.

He looked ahead again and saw the knight staring at him. Abruptly, he felt his cheeks flush and he looked down at his uneaten food. He hesitantly pushed it back towards the knight.

The pair stared at each other again before their gaze drifted to the plate. The knight hesitantly took the food back, eating it.

“Well, if you want to see guardians, I can show you some at the castle,” Zellie said eagerly, rising to her feet. “But the divine beasts reside in their champions’ domains. I can arrange for all of us to travel across Hyrule! It will—we can stop at the springs as well, but—you’ll see all that we have built, all we have prepared for the coming calamity.”

Link and Zelda looked at each other, surprised, before looking back at the princess. “There’s… more to Hyrule?”

Zellie practically glowed with pride. “Why yes, of course! Come, we must hurry, I’ll prepare everything!”

Well… at least they had a plan. Link rose at the same time as the knight, and the two nearly bumped shoulders, making Link stumbled towards Zelda. He was pretty certain he’d fumbled enough conversations today, so perhaps he’d save asking about Fi for later. But as the four walked, it was immediately apparent he was stuck lingering with his successor while Zellie babbled excitedly in the front of the group, nearly holding Zelda hostage with her conversation. Link found that he couldn’t help but stare at the blade, aching for its warmth, for Fi’s voice to echo in his mind and heart.

He felt so incredibly alone seeing her on someone else’s back.

Zelda stopped abruptly. “Oh! I almost forgot. We have to have nicknames, or this is going to get way too confusing. We have a few already – Dove, you’ll go by Cloud, and he’ll go by Champion. Now we just need to figure out me and the princess.”

Cloud? Link tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow at his wife, curious where that nickname had come from. He’d accept it, of course… did this have to do with the cloud barrier? Skyloft? Or was it a joke based on that story at the festival?

He felt a smile pull at his lips. As much as he’d shot down the ideas the princess had brought up about his existence, it was beginning to grow on him. He could at least garner some entertainment from the absolute ignorance surrounding his identity. Besides, he’d promised himself he’d buy into it the next time someone brought it up. It was too funny not to.

Helpfully, he added, “The princess said she’s okay with going by Zellie.”

The knight, Champion, stared at the princess a moment, and though his face was placid as ever, Link could sense some kind of underlying question hidden in it.

“I guess that just leaves me,” Zelda muttered thoughtfully.

“Your Grace… wants a nickname?” Zellie questioned.

“Of course I do!” Zelda answered sincerely. “I mean… we’re going to be friends! I don’t want you addressing me like some distant deity and the like. I may be the spirit maiden, but… I want us to be friends. This isn’t… this isn’t my…”

Zelda faltered, stumbling on words and thoughts, and Link watched her reluctantly. He wasn’t exactly eager to back her up in this instance – she’d spent their entire venture discovering her identity as someone else, and she had been struggling to retain her own self as Zelda since then. He wasn’t going to encourage her taking on a new persona, even if it was just a nickname.

“We’ll figure it out,” he finally cut in quietly just to move the conversation away from it.

Zelda sighed, shrugging, and the princess continued to lead them back to the castle. Link kept up this time, though, so as to avoid looking at Fi any longer. It seemed Champion always remained two steps behind his princess, anyway.

Noticing how the Champion lagged behind, Zelda smiled welcomingly and fell back so she could be in step with him, leaving Zellie and Link in the front. As Link looked around, he found other things to focus on. Like how distinctly open and alive this place felt while simultaneously… lacking something. The more he stared at the world around him, the strangely more apparent it became, and he wasn’t sure why he’d only just noticed it now, or what it meant.

This land of Hyrule was beautiful and vast, stunning beyond all comprehension. But the Surface that Link knew was brimming with something else in the air, the very fabric of the life woven through the land was teeming with magic and energy. Here, it simply… wasn’t. He wasn’t sure what to make of that. It felt like something had been lost while so much had been gained, and it suddenly made him pause. Perhaps this was what was lost when there was no trace of the Triforce, no guidance from Fi, with magic steadily draining from this land.

Link felt all the lonelier for it.

“Hero? Um… C-Cloud?”

Cloud? Oh, yes. That was him. Link looked somewhat reluctantly at the princess, waiting for her to continue. They’d talked so easily earlier, but he’d left that conversation rather abruptly. He hoped he hadn’t seemed too rude. Not that his conversation with Zelda had gone any better, though at least…

Wait. Wait. Had those two… had they been there? If that captain had heard his argument…

Oh goddess.

Despite his own feelings on the matter, the princess’ eyes showed only pity. That solidified his dreaded suspicion, though it simultaneously confused him – given how horribly he’d talked to Zelda, he’d expect disgust or disdain, not whatever it was Zellie was currently conveying.

Despite seeming to be practically overflowing with words to say, the princess faltered in her approach. Instead, she looked down at her clasped hands, wringing them nervously. Link wished he could say something instead, wished that he could maybe figure out if she truly did feel like she was failing because of whatever issue she was having with her powers, but… he could hardly hold on to any kind of assurances for himself; there was little way he could find a way to comfort her.

But Link hated to see her like this. He hated to see anyone he cared about hurting. And by the goddesses, he could see Zelda in every feature of this girl, in her blonde hair, in her intelligent eyes, in her love and pride in her people.

And he could see himself. He could see his sensitivity in her, he could see how the responsibility on her shoulders was crushing her just as his journey had crushed him.

Instinctively, Link reached out, letting his hand rest on her shoulder. Zellie jumped a little, startled, and looked back at him as he smiled at her. Perhaps he didn’t have the words to cheer her up at the moment, but he could at least offer support in other ways.

Zellie let out a soft sigh and smiled. “I can’t wait for you to see Hyrule.”

The words settled in Link’s heart, and he smiled in return. Despite his catastrophic failure, this land had not only survived but grown far beyond his ability to even fathom. And that… that had to mean something, didn’t it? If time and time again Demise had tried to destroy the land, and it had still somehow managed to turn into this, then…

Then maybe it wasn’t such a failure, after all.

XXX

The beauty of the castle gardens was terrifyingly diminished with the howls of anguish and anger coming from the royal horticulturalist as Mipha awkwardly sidled away from the newly tainted silent princess flower bed. She had escorted the Hero of Myth to the others before excusing herself, as she was not at all capable or important enough to be near a goddess, and had sought peace near the fountains in the castle grounds. Given the drama unfolding with other royal attendants trying to calm the woman, Mipha decided it was best to patrol the area.

Seeing Hyrule Castle was always an incredible sight, but the longer she lingered here, the more she ached for home. She missed her baby brother Sidon, she missed her father, she missed the flowing rivers and waterfalls, the diving places and beautiful scenery and mountains. Zora’s Domain was a sprawling city in its own right, but it somehow was far more homely than Castle Town, and it was less stifling than the royal halls. Perhaps it was the open architecture of her home, or perhaps it was the looming responsibility that hung heavily in the air here, a constant reminder of an evil that was coming.

It was no wonder Link had grown to be so quiet and stressed. Mipha would too if she were constantly living here.

The Zora princess leaned against a stone wall, hiding in the shade so she could enjoy the cool a little bit. She would be returning to the Domain tomorrow with her entourage, which was a relief. She would miss Link, but… well… duty came first. For all of them.

Her heart a little heavier, she tried to cheer herself up by finding her guards and attendants, when she instead nearly walked into the path of the goddess Hylia herself, and Mipha bit back a startled yelp as she dove for the nearest bush to hide in. She landed highly unceremoniously, feet in the air as she was caught in branches, hissing as twigs rubbed against her scales, though thankfully they could not cut through them. Mipha wiggled helplessly, at least tucking her feet in as best she could, before she heard gravel crunch and footsteps stop in front of her newfound prison.

When silence prevailed, Mipha turned her gaze as best she could, catching sight of familiar boots. She hesitantly whispered, “L-Link?”

Hands rested around her waist, making her heart speed up far more than it really should have (and oh why did that have to be the case, when they used to be able to laugh and play and push each other and fight as children and never was it so strange or awkward or different), and she was gently lifted out of the bush and placed on the ground. Link’s hold stayed on her as he stared at her, face calm but eyes soft, one cheek sucked in like he was trying desperately not to laugh. Mipha’s eyes looked frantically around them, and she was relieved to see that the rest of the party must have moved forward without him.

“O-oh, I’m—that was so incredibly—I’m very sorry, Link,” Mipha stammered, growing ever more frantic the longer the two of them stood so close to each other. Link’s hands slid off her waist at that, and he took a step back. Mipha cleared her throat and also mirrored the move, giving both of them more breathing room. “W-well. I. Yes. Thank you.”

Link watched her for a while longer, all earlier frazzled energy long gone. He was back to the stoic knight he always seemed to be, or at least most of the time. His eyes caught sight of something, and he reached forward to pluck a leaf out of her jewelry on her head.

Mipha felt herself blush in embarrassment at the reminder of her silly maneuver and even sillier predicament, and she ran her fingers across all her jewelry to ensure she was presentable. Trying to push the matter aside, she asked, “D-did… did everything go well with the goddess?”

Her friend nodded.

“Well, that’s good,” Mipha said with a smile. Then she shifted a little, heart growing heavy once more. “Link, I… I’m going to be leaving tomorrow. I… it was truly wonderful to see you again. I hope, perhaps, we can see each other again soon.”

Another nod was the acknowledgement. Mipha bit back a sigh. She understood, truly. But… well…

There was a way for him to ease up a little. But he had to agree to it.

“I was wondering… before I left… if—if, well…” oh goodness, this shouldn’t be so hard to ask! They used to swim together all the time! “I was going to go for a swim in the moat tonight. Would… would you like to join me?”

Link watched her a moment, and Mipha felt like she could melt into a puddle as he deliberated it. But then he nodded again, and her heart fluttered as a genuine smile pulled at her lips. She gave him a place where they could meet up, and he nodded, continuing along the path where the others had gone.

XXX

To say that he felt sure of anything in his life anymore was little more than a joke. Ever since his wife’s death and the prophecy, King Rhoam had felt like his life had spiraled entirely out of control. He had been an outsider to the royals, marrying into the family, purely there for support of his wife as she ruled the kingdom and served as a religious symbol and leader to their people. Yet her untimely death left him in charge, a man who had not been raised for such a rule, a man who had to do everything in his power to be the steady leader the people looked up to him to be, and to somehow raise his daughter to be just as wise and powerful as her mother.

He was failing, of course. As was Zelda. But Rhoam had continued to persevere, and if pushing his daughter to the breaking point was the way to protect her and help her grow, he’d be the subject of her ire. Despite it all, she had to prevail, even if he was failing.

But by the ancient goddesses, he had never in his life felt so utterly useless and lost. The franticness and demands that Her Grace Hylia had spouted during their conversation rang in his mind like a bell. Words of a mystical Triforce, something that was only remembered through symbolism and threadbare stories, made him feel far more incapable than he thought possible. How could he have failed Hyrule so? The prophecy had spoken of the solution to the Calamity being found under the ground, and the ancient Sheikah tech had been discovered buried in the earth. It had seemed heaven-sent solution, alongside the appearance of the Hero. Rhoam had just needed to get Zelda ready and it would have been fine. But what of the Triforce, then? The goddess seemed downright frantic at his lack of knowledge on the matter, and though she had promised to help Zelda, giving him hope, he still felt like he’d failed catastrophically.

He had to figure this out. A trip to the royal library was in order. To his surprise, the king found his daughter there as well. “Zelda?”

His dearest yelped as she whirled around. “Father! I was just doing some research and preparation. Her Grace, the goddess Hylia, and her Sacred Hero will be accompanying me as I show them the Divine Beasts and—”

The Divine Beasts?! What did that have to do with her training? Feeling his cheeks grow hot, the king interrupted, “You should be focusing on your duty, Zelda, not that of the Champions. Do not waste such prestigious guests’ time. I prayed to Her Grace for your sake.”

Zelda stiffened. “Y-yes, I—I know, Father, I just—they wanted to see them too.”

Oh. Well, then. The king found himself incapable of backtracking after snapping at her, and he felt all the worse for it. “When will you leave?”

“The sooner the better,” his daughter answered, regaining some of her excitement, though it was far more muted. Rhoam truly prayed that Hylia could help his child – the sooner she could discover her powers, the sooner she could be safe, the kingdom could be safe, and maybe… maybe he could attempt to rebuild his relationship with her. “I was thinking tomorrow, perhaps? But I wanted to plan the trip a little first.”

Rhoam agreed that the sooner his daughter could embark on her training the better, but he also felt his heart beat a little faster at the thought of such a quick departure. It wasn’t just his daughter with her appointed knight, a pair who could travel fairly indiscriminately and not attract too much attention outside of towns and villages. The two were safe together. But to include the goddess and her Hero… it felt nearly inappropriate to rush such a journey with them involved. Perhaps he should get the captain of the royal guard and arrange for some kind of escort?

The king left his daughter in peace to prepare, catching movement out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked there was no one there. Filling with anxious energy, he set out to summon the captain and then he could return to his own studies. Perhaps he should save researching about the Triforce for tomorrow… but no. He had to focus on his own duties as much as he pushed Zelda to focus on hers.

The captain of the royal guard came promptly when called for, and he knelt immediately upon entering the sanctum.

“Rise,” Rhoam ordered. “My daughter will be setting out with her knight tomorrow, and Her Grace, the Goddess Hylia, will be accompanying them alongside the Hero of Myth. I want to ensure their security is of paramount importance.”

Captain Abel watched the king a moment, stoic demeanor the spitting image of his son. The boy had come from a fine lineage of knights, and his father was no different. The captain was reliable, and Rhoam waited patiently as the man thought through the process.

“Your Majesty,” he started. “With all due respect, Princess Zelda and Her Grace Hylia are protected by the best Hylian knight in the land and the Hero of Myth and Legend, a warrior created by the goddess for the sole purpose of defeating Ganon. It would be a misuse of resources to send the royal guard, or even a battalion of knights, to go with them. We must stay here and protect you and the royal scientists, as well as their important work on the guardians.”

Ah, and this was where father differed from son. Link was a silent knight, obeying every command given to him. While his father’s loyalty was unquestionable, the man did what he believed was best for Hyrule, and though he would also inevitably follow any command ordered of him, he might offer a rebuttal first. Rhoam appreciated it, as his advice was usually sound.

Such as now. But the king couldn’t help but worry. “Surely we can afford to send at least a few knights, Captain.”

“I will do as Your Majesty commands if you wish it so,” the captain answered with a bow. “Where will they be going?”

“They will be visiting the Divine Beasts, as well as the sacred springs,” Rhoam replied.

Captain Abel remained quiet a moment, considering, and then suggested, “Perhaps we could request the Champions to accompany them? I can think of no finer protection.”

Ah, yes, of course! Although Rhoam had little authority to command certain Champions to act as guards for his daughter, they would be obliged to accompany Hylia, particularly if going to their own domains. Rhoam smiled at the captain. “That is a perfect idea, Captain. Please, summon the Champions to the sanctum. I will make my request to them.”

The royal knight bowed deeply before exiting the sanctum, leaving Rhoam to his thoughts. With the added protection of the Champions, the goddess would be both safe and honored properly. Perhaps it would help his daughter focus a little better too, as she often lost her way when left in charge of an expedition. Nevertheless, Zelda was the commander of the Champions, and it was good for her to travel a bit more with them anyway. Rhoam prayed it was enough. He would research tirelessly on other ways to help, however minimal it might be.

It would be enough. It had to be.

XXX

The sun hung heavily on the horizon as Link and Zelda sat side by side on stone that helped support the highest tower in the castle. After the fairly awkward picnic lunch, the group had gone their separate ways, Champion disappearing entirely upon reentering the castle grounds while Zellie eagerly said she’d plan out their trip and vanished around a corner. Link and Zelda had remained quiet for most of the afternoon, piecing together their resolve while still drawing strength from each other. They had silently grown tired of the confinement of the stone walls and climbed to the highest point of the castle. The air was a touch chillier here, though not nearly clear and relieving enough, but it was still better than being trapped inside.

And Zelda would be lying if she said it wasn’t beautiful.

The scale of the castle was all the more apparent up here, rivaling Skyloft in size, and Castle Town was nearly as large. Beyond the large protective walls of the town was the sprawling green beauty of greater Hyrule, and settlements speckled the area, promising of more to see and more to explore. Zelda could hardly believe it.

Link’s fingers settled over hers as he shifted his hand closer. Zelda glanced over at him, seeing the sunlight sparkle in his eyes as he gazed out in wonder.

This felt like all the times they’d sit together at the edge of Skyloft, having played themselves into exhaustion and silence. Link had always been a quiet one, and Zelda had never had an issue with it, sometimes enjoying the tenderness such silence could bring. She especially appreciated it on days that Groose was particularly loud and annoying.

But looking at her beloved husband right now reminded her of their earlier fight, of his words and the princess’ fears and the king’s request and her own anxieties. She again found herself wondering how she was going to juggle all this, how she could help the princess fight Demise, how they could even defeat him this time. At least with a trip to look at these divine beast things, there was a plan in place. Zelda could work with a plan.

Besides… maybe the springs could hold something for her as well. Maybe… maybe in the past… when she’d been Hylia… surely she’d seen this coming, right?

Right?

Zelda didn’t know what to do. She had no guide. She missed Impa so much it hurt.

At least I have Link with me this time, she thought, though there was a touch of bitterness to it. Of course he was with her this time – it wasn’t like he could escape this wretched fate, either. But honestly… she couldn’t imagine dealing with this with anyone else. As much as she wished Impa was here, she was forever grateful that Link was. If only both of them could accompany her. If only things could make sense.

But never mind that. There was a whole new world to explore. The Surface had been amazingly new and beautiful, and her restored memories had not lessened that. She couldn’t wait to see what the Surface had become now.

She tried to focus on that, tried to reorient her mind to recognizing that this wasn’t just a terrifying preparation for the war to begin anew. It was an adventure, and she would make sure it ended well.

But wait. Someone else had been on their adventure.

Zelda found herself thinking of her own people, of her friends and her father and the other settlers. She hoped and prayed they were alright.

And that they wouldn’t get near the Gate. Surely… surely they wouldn’t. There was no way they could. Groose was injured (Golden Three, she hoped he was doing okay), and no one else dared enter the Sealed Temple.

She hoped the guards she asked for would keep the place safe.

Zelda leaned over, letting her head rest on Link’s shoulder, and her husband settled his head atop hers. Tomorrow was going to be the start of something entirely new, and she was glad they would face it together.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Link turned his head to nuzzle into her hair a little more, and his arm moved to wrap around her. “I love you too.”

XXX

Hyrule Castle hummed with anticipation as the last rays of sunlight seeped out of the sky. Champions genuflected to the king, spoke with their guards and servants, and prepared themselves for the honor of accompanying a deity. The princess of Hyrule sprawled out on her bed, maps and books all over the covers, though they did little benefit as the girl’s head slowly plopped directly on to a book about the history of the Temple of Time, soft snores escaping her. The royal guards protecting the goddess’ quarters grew anxious as no goddess appeared, while two teenagers snuggled high up above the castle, enjoying the clear night sky. The captain of the guard prayed quietly in his quarters, dinner forgotten, as he thought about the trip the next day. The king moved restlessly through the royal library as he tried to find any clues of the Triforce.

Meanwhile, the princess’ appointed knight snuck around the castle walls, looking around the docks before finding a suitable place to strip off his shirt as the Zora princess waved at him.

The water was cold, and Link felt himself involuntarily gasp as he dipped his bare feet into it. Grabbing hold of his resolve, he leapt into the water, knowing the best way to adjust to the temperature was to just take the plunge. He let it invigorate him, startling all the worries of the day out of his mind as he just focused on swimming. Somehow, just floating in the water helped carry his worries away. He always enjoyed it.

Mipha giggled, catching his attention, and he swam over to her, smiling. They hadn’t done this in what felt like years—maybe it actually had been that long. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until just now.

“Oh Link,” Mipha said happily. “I’m so glad you could join me!”

Link’s smile grew, and the princess took that as a cue to continue.

“King Rhoam asked for me,” she noted, catching his attention. “Alongside all the other Champions. He asked us to accompany you and the princess as she took the goddess Hylia around Hyrule. I could hardly say no to such a request, but—oh, Link, how can I even get near such a being? Surely I’m not worthy of that. Do you think she’ll go in a carriage or something? At least that way she’ll never see me.”

Link stared at her a moment, letting the words flow through him like the water. The king wished the Champions to go with them? That wasn’t unreasonable, but it certainly changed things a little. Mostly for the better, honestly.

Except for Revali. Ugh. Great.

But having Mipha around would be nice. And Princess Zelda would appreciate Chief Urbosa’s company. Not to mention Daruk’s company would be nice. Though… Link wasn’t sure how Hylia or her Hero would take it.

But Mipha’s concerns registered in his mind, and he shook his head. In the solitude of the castle waters, he didn’t have to hide himself, though the paranoia persisted despite being with his friend. He pushed himself to speak freely. “She’s… not what I expected. I don’t think she’ll dislike you, Mipha.”

“Perhaps,” his friend agreed uncertainly, eyes looking at the moonlight dancing on the water.

“Nobody could dislike you,” Link reassured her, swimming a little closer and sinking into the water so he ended up in her line of sight. Mipha giggled at him as the only part of him that was visible above water was from his nose to the top of his head. She dove abruptly, and Link followed suit, the pair smiling at each other as they swam in circles. It almost felt like they were kids again, playing in Zora’s Domain while Link’s father was assigned there. It almost made him forget everything that was happening.

Almost.

Though, now that he had stepped away from the others, now that he was allowed to just have some simple fun and be with a friend, his mind felt much clearer. The usual immense weight on his shoulders felt a little less heavy, even just momentarily. While Hylia herself was still quite the mystery, her Hero was less so. And while Link still felt a little intimidated approaching him or Her Grace, he could at least draw courage from the fact that neither of them hated him.

He hoped the trip would be fruitful for Zelda. He truly did. The poor princess deserved it.

But what else would this trip bring? What could Link possibly contribute to it? Nothing, he supposed, except for his protection, as always. He supposed that was enough.

As Link and Mipha breached the water’s surface, he glanced back at the castle, wondering what this journey would bring. The playful moment was gone, Mipha stilled beside him, and then she said quietly, “The Calamity draws ever nearer… but Link… we have so much going for us. It must all end well, right?”

I don’t know. He truly didn’t. But… he nodded nonetheless. Because Mipha didn’t need to worry, and honestly, Link would do everything in his power to ensure that Calamity Ganon would be defeated. That had always been enough.

“I pray it will,” Mipha continued, before smiling gently at him. “I will strive to improve my fighting abilities in the meantime. I hope Her Grace and the Hero enjoy seeing the Domain—oh! Oh, I must send word to my father! We can’t be unprepared over such a visit!”

And just like that, his friend was in a frenzy, fretting about divine visitors and speaking about how Zora’s Domain should be ready. Link followed her back to the shore, somewhat amused—he was pretty certain there was nothing she could do to alert her father at the moment, but he was no stranger to worrying over everything and nothing in the middle of the night—and the pair snuck back into the castle. Link tried to hide his shivers as he crept along, listening to water drip off them both on the cobblestone.

“Oh, you’re freezing!” Mipha fretted, immediately grabbing him and holding him close. Link felt his heart skip a beat and by the goddesses he wished he didn’t—they’d done this as children; all the Zora had huddled together for warmth when exiting frigid waters. As children they weren’t quite adept and regulating their temperature, and they knew that Link himself was not capable. But it felt—now it was—

Link swallowed, feeling his cheeks warm up far faster than the rest of him, and Mipha froze. The two locked eyes for a moment, and the Zora princess immediately spluttered and stumbled back so quickly she nearly fell into yet another plant. Link reached out automatically, catching her by the wrist, and she hastily said, “I m-must go, I’m so very sorry, Link, good night!”

The young knight watched his friend practically flee indoors, and he felt… he didn’t know. Guilty? Sad? Embarrassed? All three?

He sighed as his gaze drifted upward along the castle. The worries from a moment ago bled out of him easily as anxieties over tomorrow filled the void. He didn’t think he would be sleeping much tonight. But the focus was back on Princess Zelda, where it belonged. He was there to fulfill a duty as well, but it didn’t require attention or scrutiny. He could guard and watch. He could do that.

He found himself wondering if the Hero of Legend would do that as well. He found himself wondering what he was even supposed to do with that Hero.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do anymore, honestly. And while he no longer held any worry that his predecessor hated him, he certainly had little idea of how to help him. Assuming he even needed help.

It was all just… confusing. If this trip was fruitful in any way, he hoped it would at least make things less confusing.

I suppose I’ll find out, he thought as he followed Mipha’s wet footprints inside the castle, slipping back into the façade of the perfect soldier.

#writing #breath of the wild #skyward sword #legend of zelda #breath of the wild link #botw link #breath of the wild zelda #botw zelda #skyward sword link #ss link #skyward sword zelda #ss zelda #zelink #miphlink #mipha and link are anxious little beans in love #and too dumb to figure it out #everyone needs an adult and a hug #even the adults lol #Abel deserves a pay raise #Rhoam needs some counseling on how to be a good dad #he's got the right spirit but DUDE #the royal guards assigned to protect Hylia and the Mythical Hero when they realize they're missing again: YOU GOT TO BE KIDDING ME #nobody knows the lovebirds are sitting on the top of the castle #Abel is gonna get a frantic messenger again and sigh heavily #Zellie is planning a great National Geographic Tour of Hyrule and is super excited about it #WHO'S READY FOR A ROAD TRIP #breath of the sky #skye time travels through the queue

[girlwiththereapertattoo]

begin again - part one

Jax Teller x female!Reader

Summary: This part one of a maybe five-part series. Y/N’s keeping a secret she’s hiding from Jax…

Word count: 1,3k words

Warnings: bad language, it's angsty

💀💀💀💀💀

You stare blankly at the kitchen cabinets, contemplating your next move. You’ve left Abel with Gemma, all your belongings are packed and loaded into the trunk of your car, and in the bedroom is a handwritten letter for Jax to find when he comes home later tonight. You’re breaking up with him via a letter, a cowardice move, but you don’t feel confident enough to do it face to face.

You can’t bear to look him in the eyes as you break his heart. It was so difficult the last time, and you swore you’d never put yourself through that pain again. You know what you have to do, you’ve gone over the plan every day for the past two weeks, and yet here you are, feet cemented to the floor as you struggle to come to grips with your decision. You know it’s what’s best for you but that doesn’t mean you’re okay with it all.

Tears pool in your eyes, blurring your vision, and as your heart hammers against your chest, you can’t help but think of all that you’re walking away from as you leave Charming. You’ve told no one of your plans to escape, too afraid they’d talk you out of it, or worse, tell Jax who’d surely come after you. Maybe he should come after me, and maybe, just maybe, I can talk sense into him and convince him to leave Charming and the M.C.

You shake your head, expelling the thought. As tempting and ideal as the thought is, you’ve known Jax long enough to know that he would never walk away from the club. No, for your plan to work, for you to rehabilitate yourself from Jax and the chaos that is SAMCRO, you’ve got to run and never look back. Above all, Jax can never find out where you’ve run to because trouble is sure to follow.

As much as you love him, you now realize that your association with Jax and the club poses a threat to your life and that of your unborn baby. The baby. You place both hands over your belly and a faint smile tugs at your lips. This baby is the main reason for your escape. You’re only nine weeks along and already there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to protect this baby — including keeping its existence from its father.

It’s awful, and you wish you didn’t have to do this, you don’t want to do this. Jax’s an amazing father, you’ve witnessed it time and time again with Abel. You also know that there are no lengths he wouldn’t go to for his offspring, you witnessed it a few months ago when Abel was kidnapped. You know the same would apply to your unborn child. Jackson Nathaniel Teller would want to be a part of the child’s life, regardless of your feelings towards his chosen lifestyle.

Initially, you had planned on sharing the exciting news with your baby father. Starting a family together with Jax had always been in the cards for you, and despite his troubling past and your mother’s vehement disapproval, you entertained the idea of setting your roots in the small town. Not only do you have your mother close by, but you also have a decent job that pays the bills, and of course, there’s Jax.

But when Calvin the prospect was brutally murdered it forced you to reconsider your entire future. That night, you accepted the fact that you could never raise a child in Charming, not with Jax’s line of work and his affiliation with the club. The very next morning, you began plotting your great escape which has led you to this moment.

“Right” — you swipe your tears with the back of your hand — “it’s time to go.”

With a final glance around the kitchen, you grab your handbag off of the breakfast table and start towards the front door. You’re overcome with a sadness you know will take days to shake off, but the arrangements have been made, and a new life awaits you in Charlotte. As you lock the front door, you can’t help but relive the moment you first visited this house you now call home. So much has happened since then, so much has changed.

You scurry towards your waiting car. This is it, there’s no turning back from here. You clamber into the vehicle, the tears making it difficult to see, and with a shaking hand, stick the key into the ignition. You’re starting the engine when you catch the sound of an approaching motorcycle. Shit, shit, shit! Jax shouldn’t be home for at least another hour. Fuck. It’s your worst nightmare come true. Shit!

You’re filled with dread as you watch him park his bike in front of the house and walk towards your car. You do your best to fix your appearance, to hide the evidence of your crying, but it’s impossible to hide your red-rimmed eyes. He lightly taps on your car’s window and you hesitantly turn to face him and watch his face fall at the sight of you.

“What’s going on?”

Shit! You kill the car’s engine, your mind racing with thoughts and possible ways to handle the situation before you. You could always go with the lie, to protect you both, but then again, he deserves to know the truth and maybe he’ll see it from your perspective. You scoff at the thought, you’ve been here with him before, there’s no way in hell he’ll see this from your perspective. One thing is certain though — tonight, you’re leaving Charming.

You step out of the car, flinching away when Jax tries to reach for you. You can never think straight when he’s touching you. You fight to keep your voice sturdy as you tell him, “I’ve got to go.”

His brows come together in confusion. “What?”

“I’m leaving you.”

A sick feeling settles in your stomach as soon as the words are out of your mouth and when you see Jax’s confused expression, you wish you would’ve gone with the lie. He turns his head away from you, for only a brief moment, and when he turns back, his confusion is replaced by a pained expression.

“I can’t… I can’t do this” — fresh tears spring to your eyes — “I thought I could but I was only kidding myself… we both were kidding ourselves. I don’t fit into your life, I never did, and I hate that I constantly have to live in fear. Always looking over my shoulder. When does it end?”

Jax stands before you at a loss for words as an array of emotions flash through his eyes. You think he might yell at you, and maybe you want him to yell at you. Maybe you want him to be harsh, for him to hurl insults at you because then it would validate you. But nothing.

“I’m sorry that I wasted your time.”

“Babe, listen–”

“Don’t try to convince me to stay.” You sniffle, swiping your nose with the back of your hand, “And you’ve got to promise me that you won’t come looking for me after I’ve left.”

“Y/N–”

“Promise me, Jax!”

He says nothing and you suspect he never will.

“Goodbye, Jackson.”

You climb back into your car and start the car engine without giving it a second thought. Jax stands frozen on the driveway, watching you slip through his fingers for a second time, and as you drive down the familiar street, a heaviness settles on your heart.

“I love you, Jackson Teller.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words to his face, afraid you might succumb to the feeling and find yourself staying in Charming. “I’ll love you forever.”

You look up at the rearview mirror, a small part of you hoping to find Jax’s motorcycle trailing after you. It’s the same part that wants him to fight for you and your relationship. The same part that wants him to give up the club and his life in Charming to be with you. A life away from Gemma and her endless bullshit but that’s just wishful thinking.

💀💀💀💀💀

PART TWO

#jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x you #sons of anarchy #charlie hunnam #sons of anarchy imagine #juice ortiz #soa #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam x you #chibs telford #tig trager #clay morrow #bobby munson #opie winston #gemma teller

[witching-hour]

Mother [Jax Teller x Reader]

REQUESTED BY @talicat713 Hi love can I request a story with Jax Teller? Maybe the reader is hired to take care of Abel after he is born and Jax is slowly falling in love with her. Maybe she gets really upset when he get kidnapped and starts blaming herself.

(A/N): thanks for the request! sorry it took so long. hope you enjoy <3

SUMMARY: when the reader gets caught in the crossfire with baby abel and half-sac, and gets kidnapped, the reader only blames herself, but jax assures her otherwise

TW: usual sons of anarchy violence, blood, death, guns, kidnapping

“P-P-Please...”

“A son for a son....it’s perfect.”

“Please, he’s just a baby.”

“Take me instead.”

“ABEL!”

You jumped awake as the memory as clear as day plagued your dreams once again. It’s been a week since the blonde haired, blue eyed baby boy you’ve grown to love and cherish as your own was taken from his own home under your care. The club was on lock down when shit hit the fan, first it was Gemma’s desire to seek retribution for her attack, leaving you to drive home with Abel in the backseat. Then it was the tragic death of the prospect who swore and died to protect you and the baby boy. And finally it was your failed attempt to save him before getting knocked out, only to wake up to Jax hovering over you in panic, with Chibs and Opie standing behind him.

“(Y/N/N)!” Jax yelled, shooting into the house with two of his brothers coming up from behind him. “(Y/N)!”

He ran into the kitchen, his white Nike’s getting stained in the puddle of blood he stepped into. He looked down at his foot, alarms blaring in his head. He followed the puddle to its source, “Oh shit...”

“Brother?” Opie eyed Jax’s back, coming closer and seeing the body of their prospect, Half-Sac, on the floor by the table. “....Goddammit.”

Jax saw a pair of bloody footprints lead from the puddle to the back patio door, which was broken, with glass shards everywhere. “(Y/N)!”

The three men wearing cuts stepped through the pane-less door seeing your body on the concrete littered in scrapes and scratches from the glass, and a fresh wound at the temple from being hit in the head with the butt of the Irishman’s gun. The VP rushed to your aid, flipping your body onto your back, and inspecting your face for any other injury as he shook you from your unconscious state.

You moaned in discomfort as you felt yourself drifting back to consciousness. Your head was pounding, making you wanna go back to sleep and ignore the pain. Opening your eyes wasn’t an easy task. It felt like you had to pry your eyelids apart as a heavy weight fell on them.

You felt a hand slide under your back, helping you sit up. You groaned out as the blaring alarms in your head only grew louder. You managed to get your eyes open, only to slam them back shut at the blinding light of the sun. “Shit.”

“Ye alright there, Lass?”

Your eyes open once more, this time staying open as you took in your surroundings. You saw the Scotsman and your favorite beanie wearing patch standing by the broken patio door.

You were outside.

Your hand moved against the concrete, letting out a hiss when you scraped it up some more on the broken glass under you. Jax, who you saw was knelled down next to you, laid his hands on your waist and guided you to stand back up. Looking around so vigorously, trying to piece together why the hell you were even in the backyard of Jax’s house, bruised and bloody, when you were supposed to be on lock down at the clubhouse. Jax tried to coax you to say something but your mind was racing a mile a minute.

Bits and pieces were coming to you at a time; Gemma kissing your cheek, walking in Jax’s kitchen with Abel in his carrier, Half-Sac on the floor gripping his stomach, your screaming and pleas, talking down the Irishman with a gun, you being thrown through plate glass during your tussle with the Irishman, and Abel wailing.

“Abel.” Your eyes wide, head spinning around to meet the other three pairs staring at you, “He took Abel!”

“Who? Who took Abel?!” Jax demanded.

“The Irishman. The one Tara patched up.” Your words were so swift you didn’t even know if you said them correctly.

You told the Sons you would call an ambulance and not worry, and to just find the precious boy you failed to defend. They shot out of the house in search of the baby, but came back emptied handed. The Irishman got on a boat at the docks and stolen Abel before any of SAMCRO could get their hands on him. And it was all your fault.

You could’ve done more. Maybe tried a different approach that would’ve taken down the guard of the unhinged and grieving man who kept going on about loosing his son. Maybe if you’d hit sooner or waited a bit longer before grabbing the gun. Maybe you missed a window of opportunity to grab Abel and make a run for it. The scenarios played through your head relentlessly. Every move you made was different, but only one thing remained the same: it was your fault.

You missed the sweet boy you cared for everyday. But you didn’t deserve to miss him. You were the one who lost him in the first place.

Or at least that’s what you told yourself.

While you battled the demons screaming in your head, Jax was battling his own on the floor of his son’s nursery drowning in booze, cigarettes, and weed. And it was your fault.

You had grown up with the club, with your dad as a mechanic at TM, and your brother as a member of SAMCRO, you’d grown accustomed to the lifestyle. But you weren’t an Old Lady or member since it was “boy’s club.” You didn’t have any responsibilities besides paying rent and bar tending in the Clubhouse or helping Gemma in the office. So when Wendy was shipped off to rehab, and Tara skipped town back to Chicago, Abel was left with no mother figure or caretaker for when his father had “work.”

You barely did much in the office at TM since Gemma had a system and didn’t want you messing with it, as much as she appreciated the help. The bar tending was mostly nights, only ever making tips here and there when the guys thanked you for serving them after church, or when they threw a party. Not that you desperately needed the money, but you needed a hobby—something to keep you busy during the day and nights where you weren’t working at the parties. So you offered Jax a position he desperately needed: a nanny.

Jax and Ope were closer to your age and were patched brothers with your blood related one, so, naturally, you all grew up together wreaking havoc all over Charming. Jax and Ope both trusted you, especially when it came down to their kids, and you babysat for Donna and Ope when they needed a night to themselves. Jax didn’t wanna way the burden down on you, but agreed after your convincing argument.

You took on the role as Abel’s guardian when Jax wasn’t around, Gemma even dared to call you his mother once. It shocked you when she did, almost like she hand-picked you to be the mother of her grandson, but you couldn’t be entirely surprised considering the woman played a part in raising you. Of course she approved. She didn’t mention it again, but you knew every time he was in your arms that’s what she thought.

Your job was to care for him. Protect him. And you couldn’t even do that.

You knew Jax blamed you. You knew if Gemma knew she would definitely blamed you, and was most likely planning your murder to look like a suicide. The Club tried to check in on you, but you rarely opened the door. Why would they come to check in on someone that lost their VP’s only son?

Missed calls, voicemails, and unanswered messages had filled up your notifications on your phone. All from your brother and your family of SAMCRO. You couldn’t bare to talk to them. Hell, even look at them without the guilt crushing down on you. You would wake up in the morning and the guilt would appear out of thin air.

After your recollection of the day Abel got kidnapped, you knew you weren’t gonna be able to back to sleep. It was still morning, seven to be exact, and you managed to pull yourself out of bed. You’d gotten dressed after your shower, and made yourself some coffee to start the day.

You haven’t seen or heard from Jax since he showed up at the house with the club, but without Abel. He had passed Hale and his officers with the CSU for Eddie’s body, and locked himself in the nursery. Not once did he come out, leaving the club and yourself to vacate the area to let the father grieve.

It’s been a week, and you knew you needed to visit him. Whether he wanted to see you or not. You grabbed you keys off the counter which had a spare key to Jax’s house, slipped on your shoes by the front door, and rushed out to your car.

You pulled up to the house that only screamed the horrors that’d taken place. You saw the cavalry of bikes lines up in the driveway and on the grass and sidewalk. Sighing, you parked your car in front of the house, leaving room for the bikes when the guys pulled out.

You took hesitant steps up to the porch, reeling over how this confrontation could go with either anyone in the club or the father whose child you lost. Your hand raised up to knock, even though formalities weren’t necessary, but the door swung open before you could and Clay stood behind it.

“You know better then to knock, sweetheart,” He smiled, moving out of the doorway, and inviting you inside.

Swallowing thickly, you forced a smile back and stepped inside the threshold. You suppressed the urge to cry when your eyes landed on the kitchen. A big red stain remained from the attack--from when Eddie was killed. And when Abel was taken.

“Come on,” Clay guided you away and out of the hallway, keeping the kitchen out of your sight, “you don’t need to be looking at that.”

Your brother, Opie, and Chibs emerged from the hallway where the bedrooms and bathroom were. You heard the shower on and saw the wet spots on Opie’s leather jacket and kutte from when he set Jax in the shower to sober him up.

“How is he?” You manged to ask without getting choked up.

“As expected.” Opie answered.

“From what we can tell, he’s been like this since it happened. Cigarette butts and clips everywhere...empty bottles of Jack.” Your brother listed, sympathy for his brother coating his features, as did everyone else in the room. The guilt was noticeable on your face, which made your brother shake his head. “It’s not your fault, you know.” 

“Yeah...yeah, it is.” You didn’t give him or anyone else a chance to argue as you backtracked into the kitchen. You paused, staring down the blood stain, then catching sight of the broken patio door that now had a piece of plywood boarded up. Blinking away any thoughts, you moved to the sink and bent down to the cabinet, and grabbed a garbage bag.

You ignored the looks shared behind your back and the stares burning holes into your skull as you headed to the nursery to clean up the mess Jax made from his grief.

As you tied the garbage back closed, you heard someone walk into the room.

“You didn’t have to clean up.” Jax said leaning against the white dresser, watching as you avoided his gaze and fidget with your hands—a tick he picked up on when you were feeling nervous or guilty. He could sense both coming off of you.

“I wanted to.”

“Haven’t seen you.”

“Could say the same.”

You were being short with him. You knew that he noticed. He knew that you knew that he noticed. But you didn’t know how to react with him.

You’d lost his kid. Shouldn’t he be screaming at you right now? Kicking you out of his house?

“They have a lead on Abel,” he told you, making your eyes widen and actually look at him. “I don’t know what it is yet. They’re gonna show me at the Clubhouse. Just thought you deserved to know.”

You scoffed at that. “I didn’t. I don’t.”

“Babe-” He tried to coax you with a nickname only he called you, knowing that you probably blamed yourself for what down. But in his head it wasn’t your fault. It was his. He was Abel’s father, and should’ve known the club life was going to catch up to his family. He shouldn’t have been so naive to believe that he could have both.

After finding his father’s manuscript, he started to see the bigger picture when it came to the club. And his family when it intertwined. Even though the manuscript opened up his eyes, it pissed him off. How could his father write about something like that and then not do a thing to change it? Now he felt like that burden now rested on his shoulders. His father believed he could’ve been the one to save SAMCRO. And he didn’t.

“How can you call me that? How can you even look at me right now?!” Your vision clouded as anger coursed through you. Angry at the man who should’ve been livid with you for failing the one job he trusted you with. “Scream, yell, push me. Do something!”

“I’d never lay my hands on you, (Y/N).” He said in the most serious tone you’ve heard out of his mouth. “I’m not gonna scream at you, or yell.”

“Why not? Why aren’t you pissed? Why?”

“I could ask the same, babe.” He threw back at you, waving his hands at you. He was getting agitated with the fact you weren’t gonna drop it. 

He loved you, and it broke his heart to see you this way. You guys had crossed the boundary line of friendship when you took on the role as Abel’s guardian.(Or at least he did). And as much as no one but Gemma had stated out loud, you stepped in as Abel’s mother. That’s when he fell. Seeing how you acted with Abel, treating him as your own, and that the little boy had seemingly picked you as his mother with the way he acted over you. He my have been just a baby, but Jax had picked up on it. When he would get up in the morning for Abel, the child was of course gleeful to see his daddy, but he looked for you. Jax knew because it was the same look he had on his face when he wanted you, and then once you would step in the room Abel would be jumping for you. The kid once screamed bloody murder in the middle of the Clubhouse when you handed him off to Tig to use the bathroom, once you got back he was placed back in your arm and calmed down. He was definitely a mama’s boy--your boy. 

In a way you did see Abel as your own, but you and Jax weren’t together, and you were just the nanny. Yes, you were family, but regarding Abel you could have passed as his Aunt (Y/N/N). Certainly not his mom. You didn’t want to overstep.

“Why do you want me to yell? Hmm? Why do you want me scream?”

“Maybe, Jackson, because I’m here and he’s not.” You crooked your pointer finger at yourself, pronouncing each word carefully, trying to make him understand it was your fault. Why didn’t he blame you? He did, didn’t he? “I had one job. One fucking job.” For someone who didn’t curse often, it would have come off as a shock, but him seeing you in the distraught state you were in, he anticipated for the unexpected. “Take care of Abel; feed him, change him, protect him. And I couldn’t even do that.” You were shaking your head at yourself; disappointed, ashamed, and angry. “Maybe I want you to be pissed because I lost your goddamn son! You should be yelling! You should be screaming! You should be off your damn rockers right now!” You threw you hands up in exasperation. “Just at the sight of me! You trusted me with his life and I betrayed that trust!” Stepping closer to the blonde, you shoved him in his hard chest, “Come on!” You shoved him again when he made no effort to move. “Come on!” 

You continued to shove him again and again, yet he did nothing but take it. You were only wearing out your energy. Your hits became less forceful as the anger diminished and was gradually replaced with the sorrow you felt for the missing baby you were once responsible for. Thinking about where he could be, who he was with, if he was being fed or had been changed, made your heart grow stiff and heavy. What if he was cold? Or was he overheated? 

Once the tears started falling, they didn’t stop. The silent trail of tears turned into ragged breathing attached to the meltdown you were coming down from. Small sobs crawled up your throat, you attempting and failing at suppressing them. You couldn’t pinpoint when the biker pulled you into his strong arms, but he did. He cradled your head with his hand as you sobbed into his chest, letting his fingers fun through your hair soothingly. 

He managed to keep his own tears at bay, only letting one slip. Between the hole in his heart from Abel’s kidnapping and the tear you were creating from your breakdown, one bypassed the barrier and slowly ran down the tanned skin of his cheek.

When you heart rate fell back down and your breathing became even, you lifted your face from the wet spot you created on his navy blue SAMCRO shirt. “Mm sorry,” you mumbled tiredly. 

“It’s okay, darlin’.” He used the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe at your face of the tears that remained.

You fell into a silence as he cleaned your face, the deep concern and empathy written on his face. When he was done, you wiped at the drying stain of the one that fell down his own, and you asked softy, “You don’t blame me?”

“No, I don’t.” He answered. “You did everything you could and ended up getting hurt in the process.” He motioned to the stitches by your temple, they were healing rather quickly and you were able to get them taken out in a couple days. 

“I’m okay. Just a few stitches, Jax.” You brushed off.

“They’re still stitches.” He deadpanned.

“Whatever.” You said dryly, with a roll of your eyes before they met his once again. 

You watched as they flickered down to your lips before back up, as if asking for your permission. You copied his actions, tilting your head up, waiting for him to follow in suit. He slid a hand to the side of your neck, caressing your jaw, and leaning down to press his lips against yours.

His lips were slightly chapped from the dehydration, no doubt. They clashed with your soft ones and it was enough. He was enough. As cliche as is sounded, you could kiss this man forever. He really did live to the many rumors you heard around the Clubhouse from the crow-eaters and sweet-butts. But even they didn’t do him the justice he deserved.The kiss wasn’t aggressive like you imagined kissing him, but it was sweet--passionate, meaningful, and sadly, not as long as you would wanted. But it was enough.

He pulled away, leaving you both breathless and craving for more, but there were more important things at hand. This, whatever this was, would have to wait until Abel was safe and back home where he belonged. You guys would have to resume another time, but you could live with that as long as you got your boy back.

“You did your part. Now I need to do mine.”

You sat at the bar in the clubhouse with Piney, Tig, and Kozik as you patiently waited for the arrival of Jax and others. Jax has called you the night before (around five due to the time difference) that Abel was back where he belonged. The club, Gemma, and Abel were on their way back to Charming first flight this morning on the private jet that belonged to the Oswald's.

Your foot tapped against the bar connecting two legs of the bar stool, nerves obviously taking control, and driving he three men insane.

Tig put his hand on your knee, keeping it from bouncing. “Doll, you need cool it. Take some breaths or somethin’.”

“Sorry,” you apologized, string down into the beer you haven’t touched.

“Hey, it’s okay. He’s safe with his daddy. And they’re gonna walk through that door any minute now.” Piney assured you, messing with the tubing of his oxygen tank, before taking a shot of the whiskey he ordered from the crow-eater, Kelly, behind the bar.

“I know, I know....” you sighed, shifting in your seat. “It’s just...what if he doesn’t remember me?”

Piney reached over for your hand and held it in a firm grasp, but not hurting you. “(Y/N), you took on that boy as your own. A bond between a mother and her child is unbreakable. Biological or not. Family doesn’t end in blood, and it sure as hell don’t start there either. You hear me?”

Your eyes clouded and you patted his hand with your free one. “Yes, sir.”

You felt Kozik, who had gotten from his seat on the opposite side of Tig, rub your back comfortingly.

You all sat there in silence until the sound of bikes rolling into the lot caught the attention of everyone in the Clubhouse. As Tig and Kozik went out to welcome their brothers and Gemma back home, you and Piney stayed seated at the bar. Piney noticed your nerves as soon as the engines were heard. “He’s home. They both are.” 

Nodding slowly at his words, you took a deep breath and reached over for one of his shot glasses that were still full, throwing your head back and allowing the amber liquid to run down your throat into your stomach with a satisfying burn. Once you let it settle and manged to even out your nerves enough, you slammed the small glass back down and made you way out the Clubhouse door.

Gemma was the first one you saw, granted that she was probably on her way to get you. She brought you into a warm and comforting hug. “He’s here, baby, he’s here. He’s okay.” She ran her hand up and down your back as you coughed out a laugh, letting out a sting of genuine ones filled with joy and relief.

Across the lot, Jax was letting the guys who stayed behind to see the baby who had all their hearts on the chopping block. He heard a familiar laugh that always manged to make him smile. His head turned and saw you in Gemma’s arms, a couple tears running down your face as you laughed in relieved joy. Bouncing Abel in his arms, he started striding over to the two women he loved the most.

You looked up, catching the eyes that managed to pierce through you every time he was near. A grin spread across your face, one that you haven’t seen on yourself in a long time. Then your vision zoned in on the bundle in his arms, and the world stopped.

At the sight of the boy you nearly taken on as your own, your eyes filled with tears. A breathless laugh crawled up your throat as your hand came up to cover your mouth in amazement. “Oh, my God.” Gemma rubbed her hand up and down the side of your arm soothingly. He was actually here. Hearing about him was one thing. Seeing him in the flesh was another.

Abel had grown over the weeks of you not seeing him. He’d gotten some meat he needed on his bones, letting you know that he was fed. The lack of bruising and scars (from what you could see) showed that he had not been harmed. He was clean and wearing his baby blue reaper beanie from SAMCRO on his little head.

“Look, son,” Jax spoke in a small voice, “it’s mommy.”

Mommy?

The look on your face made the VP break out in a smile. Abel turned, and at the sight of you he squealed in happiness, little gurgles making their way out of his mouth. You sobbed as the little boy reached one of his hands out to you.

Your feet guided you to the two, using your thumb to rest in the palm of Abel’s hand, and him gripping it for dear life. You couldn’t contain the tears anymore. “Hey, baby. I missed you so much.” Jax adjusted the boy so he could put him in your arms. You sighed in content; finally feeling whole again with Abel in your arms. “I’m never letting you go.”

Jax brought you into his side, wrapping one arm around your waist, and using the other to cradle Abel’s head. Placing a kiss at your temple and one on his son’s forehead, he finally felt peace after all the shit that’s been hitting him. This is what peace felt like; having his family enveloped up in his arms.

He wasn’t planning on letting either of you go anytime soon.

SOA TAG LIST: @cutekittylexie @talicat713 @woahitslucyylu @xx--day-dreamer--xx @sweetpeaflower01 @rebelwrites

#jackson teller #jax teller #jax teller imagine #jax teller one shot #jax teller x reader #samcrow #soa #soa imagine #soa one shot #jackson teller x reader #sons of anarchy one shot #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy #samcro #soa x reader #jax teller x you

[angelkurenai]

Imagine Dean trying to find you a fake case which will give him the chance to spend more time with you, given how you’ve just gotten together, but Sam not having any of it. The result being Sam finding out about you two in a funny and unpredictable way.

“... So all I'm saying is that if we just headed over there to look into it and it turns out to be nothing, hey time for vacation!” Dean shrugged with a smirk that looked far from casual and you could hardly hold back a laugh “So what do you say?”

But once his speech was over – and admittedly it was a lengthy one weighing on the benefits of taking a supposed case that looked like your thing in Lad Vegas – silence followed, setting in the room for good. His brother, who was really the only one he was talking to and honestly trying to convince over a stupid issue, didn't say a word himself; instead kept his eyes glued on the computer in front of him no wonder looking for some actual case.

You couldn't blame the younger Winchester given how Dean had been only, miraculously, finding cases that seemed to be in a big city or near one which had plenty of sights and, frankly, some of the best bars, or festivals and hotels. He just wanted vacation – even though you've just gotten back from a break – and Sam wanted to get back to actual work. He didn't understand why Dean insisted on it so much, how could you even tell him that you were together and he was clingy as hell and wanted to spoil you anyway (?), but he didn't seem to care anymore either.

After the tenth time of Dean suggesting a place like Vegas – which he was now bringing up and making it more obvious than ever – Sam had stopped listening to him altogether. It was obvious Dean wasn't willing to do actual work anymore. Sometimes going as far as to ignore he existed in the room until Dean came up with what could really be a case for you... which in the end only turned out to be taken by some other hunter. And so far that had only happened twice.

“He's not going to say a thing. You know how he gets when he's too focused on research and, frankly, between you and I, dear-” you paused to glance at Sam clearly absorbed in whatever he was reading “I'd say he doesn't give a damn. Maybe even has found a way to stop listening to you? A spell probably that makes your voice inaudible to him. Oh how lucky he must be if that's the ca-” you stopped when Dean shot you a look and you shrugged raising your arms in surrender “Alright, alright just kidding. I adore you, I adore you.”

“Hey.” Dean said in a warning tone, eyes almost wide.

He glanced at his brother who was very much in the room yet very much out on a spiritual level which you kind of envied. Because no matter how much you loved your boyfriend, there was only so much you could hear him talk in a day and mind you, you were barely paying attention to half of the things he said in favor of taking the case in Vegas. It wasn't a case, not even close to your kind of thing, and so every reason was either a reason for laughter or eye-rolls. And there was only so much you could take of all that on your own. And in the end, it was obvious, there was no reason for Dean to be worried in the least bit about Sam hearing you and finding about your relationship this way.

“Again not listening to you Dean, very wise choice, if you ask me.” you shook your head, eyes falling back on your phone but only for a second before you looked up again “Hey!” you suddenly said and Dean looked at you in interest, probably hoping for a choice that could give you a way to spend time together “Maybe he's got earplugs. I should try that too sometime, especially if you keep this up, I'm certainly gonna-”

“(Y/n)” he groaned, rolling his eyes, his shoulders falling in disappointment.

“I mean, honey, let's be frank here: you're way beyond yourself these days. Maybe if we did some actual work and then went to some bar, things would be better. It doesn't have to be in Vegas! And I'm fine with something less than a five star restaurant and hotel. Cause in case you have forgotten this, as a hunter I am used to motels and small bars and towns. I mean up until a month ago, that's where we were. Just because I'm your gir-” you paused when his eyes widened, you rolled your and kept going in a lower voice “Just because we are what we are now, doesn't mean I'm any different. I still enjoy even a walk in the park so long as it involves some ice cream and lots of hugs. I still enjoy cuddling even if it is on the floor of the cheapest motel in the world, so long as there are enough pillows and most importantly you. I still enjoy a simple cold beer even if it's in the most small bar so long as you are around. I'm still me, and I never cared about big or expensive things. I only care about us being happy, safe and together. You don't have to go an extra mile on my behalf Dean. You know I just want... well-” you glanced at Sam before whispering to Dean “You”

“I know, I just- you deserve it, that's the thing. Besides spending time together, I thought-” he sighed, almost pouting that very moment; making you find it hard to hold yourself back from jumping up and cradling him in your arms and kissing the living heaven out of him “I wanted to spoil you, give you something good. Treat you right.”

“Aw Dean, that's really sweet a-” but as you started speaking, Dean cut you off and you realized his expression had gone back to blank if not glaring at his brother who had gotten up only to grab a book from the library, walking past Dean as if he wasn't there, and sit back on his chair.

“Yeah, if someone else in here manages to make a connection with reality again.” he grumbled “Sam, are you ever going to even give me an answer?” a pause of silence “Are you even going to listen?” another pause of silence “Pretend that you listen at least?” pause of silence “Pretend that we exist?” pause and, surprisingly, no silence because it was broken by the sound of furious typing on Sam's computer.

“Well, he's super focused now. I don't think there's any getting him out of it, it seems.” you murmured.

“Sam?” Dean insisted “I'm just gonna take (Y/n) and go to Vegas without you if you keep this up you know?” pause “Sam?” pause, nothing but typing and Dean shook his head before running a hand down his face “Seriously whoever said having siblings was great, clearly never had one!” he sighed heavily.

“Come on it's not that bad, he's just focused. I get in that vibe as well.”

“Yeah, when you're watching America's ass or whatever you call it.” he huffed, shaking his head “That's different, (Y/n). I mean look at him, it's like he doesn't see us, certainly doesn't hear us. He wouldn't even realize it if we were swarmed in by zombies right now. Do you think that if I stabbed him right he'd even feel it?”

“Come on, Dean.” you giggled.

“What? He's a Winchester, he'll come back to life.” he shrugged “I swear, Cain was lying. This, this is exactly what Abel was doing to him. Ain't blaming that guy.”

“You say that to sound tough, but you love your family. You wouldn't even dare hurt a hair of Sammy's wonderful hair. Despite all the cock-blocking he's been doing lately.”

“Is that supposed to help him right now or what? Seriously, I'm trying hard not to do this but I can't even seem to find a reason to not stab him right now. Just to get a reaction.”

“I'm starting to think meddling with his hair would have more of an effect but-” you shrugged “I'm sure there is something.”

“No, really none. Honey you gotta give me some sort of motivation to not stab him right now.”

“Uhm, well-” you paused, frowning at your hands deep in thought “Oh” you smiled “Think about it as this: I can't fuck you if you're in prison.”

Dean nodded his head “Ah yes, that's a good enough re-”

“What?” Sam's head shot up and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Oh so he speaks!”

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean one shot #dean winchester one shot

[supernovafeather]

A Question Of Domination

Abel Morales x F!Reader

Warnings : swearing, mention of suicide/suicide attempt, sexual themes, mention of non con sex, kind of enemies to potential lovers to some extent

- - - - - - -

What exactly should be said ? After all trying to walk up to this man is already complicated, so... what about what would follow ?

Keeping your distance in the cold, you stare at the silhouette on the bridge, your hands in your coat pockets and your shoes crushing the slight layer of snow. You're walking away slowly, hesitating. This guy doesn't look like the homeless guys or the broke students you can see here. His clothes are expensive. You don't know much but by a simple look at them you can easily guess. His hair perfectly groomed are a good indicator too. Usually you wouldn't pay much more attention to this guy. After all he must be some kind of... banker, or an insurer or... maybe some other kind of asshole. After all this city is parasited by mafia, corruption is the norm here. He could even spend his nights selling some poor immigrant girls to perverts, who knows.

You can't know for sure. But his face his clearly tense. His elbows are resting on the steel guardrail, his gloved hands clasped together and his eyes squinting each time a cold wind comes to whip his face. Some flakes land on his dark hair before disappearing into invisible droplets of water. There is something... eating him from the inside. Like you've already seen too many times at this exact place. But why should you help him ? "Oh hi sir, please don't jump off the bridge, yeah I help you knowing that as a rich man in this shitty corrupt city you must despise my very own existence but heh I'm human before everything else and you too, again please don't jump off ?"

All day long you despise the rich. You hate all the privileges they have when you have to work all day long, having to walk even in blizzards not to get fired on the spot and to... well, basically to survive, to even to live comfortably. But this time there is something preventing you from ignoring him.

You blink when his head slowly turns to your direction, his eyes wandering on the area around you before setting on your still form. The way he tilts his head to the side with this eyebrow raised and these pouting lips makes you feel stupid. His handsome - attractive even but he doesn't have to know it - rich and looks confident now that he is out of his thoughts. Great. You still managed to hesitate about this guy. He doesn't deserve your attention. Not important if you act weird and impolite. He must be already judging your appearance and your behaviour. Shit if he even thinks about making you his personal whore for meetings with mafiosi you'll have to castrate him.

Some long seconds later, you finally move away, turning your back to him, your cheeks burning against the violent wind. You're being ridiculous. He doesn't need...

"Excuse me. Do you have a minute," he asks as you grimace, your eyes closing. You don't have to turn around, you're already fleeing like a coward. "Do I know you ?"

You sigh before frowning and facing this guy who is walking calmly, relaxed even. You keep your determined and hostile features despite his curious and powerful gaze. Damn, that's eyes you don't see every day. Yeah. Definitely a guy you shouldn't mess with. Or that more exactly, you shouldn't try to help. You're still too naïve. Whatever. You're pathetic ass has to answer now ? Social conventions... what a pleasure.

"No. You don't know me, no."

Your cold tone only hardens his face, your audible distrust barely taking him aback. He must have been expecting it with your face.

"And do you know me ?"

"Nope. I don't have anything to do with you," you answer with your muscles tensing up for no reason.

Dreaming of what you would do or say in a conflict is one thing, but what if that guy is... well some influent guy ? The kind of monster that could whisper to the mayor to kick you out of your apartment if you mess with him if he learns who you are ? Damn you shouldn't have to hide your shaky hands in your pockets.

"I am not looking for some... company," he says slowly with still this same serious face as your eyes widen slightly at his innuendo.

"I'm not here to suck on your cock you fucking asshole," you say in a high-pitched tone contrasting with his deep voice. He raises an eyebrow, clearly displeased by your answer. "I can look at people without wanting to spend the night with them."

"I am used to women looking at me with some goal behind it. You don't have to be so defensive. Sorry if I've misinterpreted your intentions," he adds with a grin between sarcasm and disgust. "And you, you were staring at me. There must be a reason. I have the right to know why some stranger seems to be so interested by me."

You are already done with his bullshit. He must be in some business of he learned to talk like this. You were right.

"Well basically I was asking myself if you were one of those coming over here usually," you say as he frowns.

"Those coming usually ? What is so special about this place ? It's just a bridge."

This answer makes you blink stupidly, your body relaxing as your mental facepalm echoes through your skull. Congrats, you are definitely considered as a freak.

"Well... there are people jumping from there."

Adding anything else is useless as he nods slowly, blinking just once. An awkward silence makes you look away before shrugging in some reflex, your foot nervously crushing some snow.

"And you wanted to see if I was about to do the same thing, that's right ?"

"Yeah. Well you definitely don't seem to... well you don't seem to need any help so... yeah I have to go," you hastily say hoping that this would be over.

"Thank you."

What ? What did he just say ? A guy like him thanking you ? That's a new one, you would have never thought of this. Especially not with this grateful smile. It looks grateful, his eyes softening a bit. Just a bit, he must be used to never let any feeling appear. Especially in front to some annoying and hostile girl.

"Why are you thanking me ? I haven't done anything."

"I was feeling a bit down. Yes it's true. I was not thinking about leaving this world, though," he says before walking away from you, joining the guardrail and resting his elbows onto the icy metal.

You hesitate as you don't know if he is inviting you to continue the conversation or if he wants to stop it, but you reluctantly pace towards him. You keep your hands in your pockets though, eyeing him suspiciously. But you're a fucker even towards yourself so... yeah, you keep talking.

"Well... I'm... glad you don't want to. I guess."

This makes him snort, a playful face appearing as he watch you closely, squinting as he turns his body to you, an arm still resting on the guardrail.

"You know how to talk to people I see."

This time you are the one snorting with a grimace, looking away at the cold river below the bridge.

"Let me remind you that a few seconds ago you basically asked me if I was a prostitute just because I was looking at you."

"Not necessarily a prostitute. Just a girl interested. Could happen, I don't know. And you were staring. Not looking."

This makes you shrug as your eyes stay focused on the urban horizon. A few years back there was no tall buildings there. Only trees. The place was charming in a different way.

"Yeah. I just didn't know what to do. In general men like you treat us like shit."

"You think I'm an asshole."

It is said as a matter of fact. He knows. He must be used to it and maybe thinks the same as you do. This time you feel like... embarrassed. You may have overreacted against him but after all if the men like him didn't treat ordinary people like shit you wouldn't react like this. You need to defend yourself one way or another. He must feel your discomfort as his serious and cold face turns into one almost friendly, and amused, coming closer to you. He rests a gloved hand on the guardrail right before you, your eyes laying on the small spot of bare skin appearing between the glove and his sleeve. Why does it look like something so hot that you shouldn't look at it ? That's just his wrist.

"I'm an asshole. I admit it. I'm guilty for spending my time with sharks. But trust me, they are the one making my life... more than a pain in the ass," he mumbles with such bitterness that you look down at his expensive shoes shortly. You don't know if you can be the stranger opening a Pandora's box with this man. He has his intimacy and even if you have to admit that he looks interesting... he remains something you despise for despising you.

"I am sorry to hear about your personal situation," you start, but the way his face gets suddenly close to yours makes you almost choke on your own words. That's the coldest gaze you've ever received and it makes your core too hot for your liking.

"You're not sorry bunny. You're not sorry for anything."

The word "bunny" is not something you would like to hear from some random cocky stranger but... it keeps you in place. His warning gaze is hypnotic as he talks, never blinking and keeping his voice low, nodding slowly.

"I can see you're a clever girl. Consider my following advice the way you want, that's not my problem. Never fall in their trap. Never burn your wings for them if one day - for whatever reason - you want to join or play with them. You're too pure for that world."

"That's what you think," you answer with a scoff causing him to rise an eyebrow, crossing his arms while waiting for your sentence. "Nobody's pure. Even people we admire and think are perfect are not, or are even the worst monsters because we didn't see anything bad coming from them."

"Eh calm down bunny, I've never called you "perfect" or anything", he laughs before tilting his head to the side, squinting as his teeth seem to bite gently the inside of his lower lip. "Yet by keeping those advices in mind you came to talk to me. Not the best action I would say. I admit you're clever, only a fool would deny it. You're a pain in the ass too and once again only a fool would say the opposite. But I like that coming from you. I like people who take risks."

"I'm not applying for a job. I don't care about what you think of me," you answer as you try to ignore his longing gaze. "I just wanted to make sure you were ok. But I guess that's not what will change the world anytime soon, right ?"

"Certainly not. The world is never going to change."

Some of the pain present in his eyes disappears in a matter of seconds and he rests his elbows on the guardrail, his features getting suddenly determined as he seems to stab the innocent buildings with the daggers in his eyes. This strength makes you step a bit closer, attracted by this confidence of his, his own internal hatred for the outside world. It's fascinating to see this man - probably one of those who could decide partially of what your fate would be or influence it indirectly - boiling like this. His jaw is clenching, his pupils moving to each building dressing the horizon, his skin animated by brief jolts awakening the thin wrinkles at the corner of his eyes.

"The world will never change. Never enough. I won't lie, money is... a drug. Or rather, the importance we give to it is a drug. That's why I thought you were interested earlier. I thought you could be one of those girls coming to have a taste to what all of this means. Too many are ready to sacrifice themselves for that shit. That's the only drug people will to show, because it makes everything appear more beautiful, more attractive."

He sighs, crossing his arms as he sits on the guardrail, his severe eyes staring down at you as you listen to him in silence.

"Don't take me wrong bunny. I still want money and have to play that kind of fucked up game for that. Don't be naïve, everyone up there knows what it costs. That's an endless game until the final game over."

"If you dare to tell me that I'm lucky because I'm poor and have to work all day long to pay for a fucking shitty apartment and to have the right to live decently with some food..." you start groaning as a warning, but he interrupts you by putting an arm firmly on your shoulder, leaning towards you with those serious dark eyes.

"I'm not implying that, bunny. Trust me."

He pats your shoulder a few times with a nod before sighing, staring at you with a pensive gaze that leaves you perplexed. You don't think you should hate him. Or maybe yes. After all you don't know enough about him. He may call you "bunny" but that's nothing. He admitted he is drugged with money after all.

Your defeated chuckle doesn't surprise him. He saw your eyes filling up slowly with melancholy and he looks down at you as you lean on the guardrail, avoiding his gaze as you stare blankly to some tree on the river bank covered in snow.

"Do you eat enough ?"

His question comes out of nowhere but you don't try to watch him.

"Depends. It can be ok," you answer with a flat voice as he shivers at the cold wind.

"You won't like it but..." he sets his hand firmly on your shoulder as you look back at him, ready to protest. "Listen to me. I'm not forcing you to anything. I will never do such a thing. Understood ? If you want to eat something I can help."

This almost makes you step back as your eyes leave him, focusing on the guardrail as he sighs.

"Don't try to buy me. I'm not your pet."

"I'm no trying to do that bunny. I just appreciate you. Nothing expected in return. No kiss, no sex, no weird stuff. Nothing you're uncomfortable with. I'm curious. Curious about you. No gift. Just a dinner, or a lunch, whatever you prefer. And if you don't want anything like that and don't want to see me again, tell me."

You scoff as you stare down at the ground. Shit. That shit is going much further than what you thought would happen.

"I know how it goes with guys like you. You have a new toy, huh ?"

This makes you sad in a way. Domination everywhere. That's how a system like this one works right ? Even what appear as sincere has to be analyzed. That makes you paranoid. You just want some company. You're done with fighting all the time. Done with being angry at everyone and everything every day.

"You're not a toy. You're the only person who asked me how I was doing. Not only today but... let's say that people are not the most... comprehensive where I am. So..."

"Ok."

His surprise is clear at the way he hums, and when you look at his face his features give away this same impression. But you make everything clear.

"So. No forced sex. No forced kiss. No humiliation. No insults. Nothing wrong. No money. No gift."

"Ok. Nothing inappropriate. Can I at least keep calling you bunny if you still don't want to give me your name ? And tell you that my name is Abel ?"

This makes you blink just as much as the slight grin he is wearing now. That's a flirty one but not crossing the lines you established. It's still polite and respectful.

"Abel. Ok. And... well.. ok for bunny."

"Not your name ? Don't tell me you're called bunny, I wouldn't believe it."

You roll your eyes but a smile finds its way to your lips. This Abel shouldn't make you react like that. That's not even... a date or anything. What the fuck are you doing even ? You give him your name and he nods at it, saying it with shiny eyes.

"So... lunch ? Dinner ?"

"Dinner. Tomorrow ?"

He accepts and lets you schedule everything. You're glad he lets you choose and the flirting gaze stays on you. Not that you complain. You're not against having sex or flirting but only if you want to. He is an interesting guy but you are still on your guard. Tou just feel guilty at the way you melt when he kisses your temple as a goodbye before walking away.

- - - - - -

Thanks for reading, please comment and reblog if you liked it ! 😊

#oscar isaac #abel morales #abel morales x reader #abel morales x you

[cas-huggybear]

God’s most beloved

A/N: this is just a random story I wrote. It’s about Lucier and his fall, his time in the cage and his relationship with his family. And why he tortured Sam Winchester.

He was God’s favorite.

He loved him and siblings deeply.

It hadn't been his fault. The mark, his father had given him, it poisoned his mind.

God had acted irresponsible and foolish, putting such a burden on his most beloved child. He should have known that an object of such power would be too much, even for an archangel.

Then God created men.

Of course Lucifer became jealous of mankind because he loved his father more than anything, and he believed so did his father.

But he was wrong.

God showed more concern fore those creatures than him.

He could not comprehend how such weak and foolish beings even deserved to exist.

So he wanted to set humanity free; to show them that there is more than blind obedience and that free will exists. He would free their minds of the illusion his father created, show them how wrong their beloved God was.

So he seduced her, Eve, the woman. Not because she was weaker than Adam, it had been the contrary. He found more pride in seducing the stronger one, to humiliate his father even more.

He laughed when he saw Adam eating the apple out of Eve's hand, greedily biting and chewing, the sweet juices dripping down his chin.      

And he laughed when he twisted Lilith's human soul, creating the first of the demons.

But then his family turned against him, coldly banishing him from heaven.

And he should have known the angel's blind devotion to their father wasn't something to be quickly overruled.

But the devotion in those who followed him burned hot and the war that came was terrible.

Heaven was shattered, and the descendants of Adam and Eve were terrified, cowering on earth below every time a deafening rumble from above rang in their fragile ears.

When he remembers the war, which divided heaven forever, all he can see is his brothers and sisters.

Angels, slain. Their wings ripped out on the base, terrible, gaping holes where beautiful, divine feathers should be.

Angels, broken and battered.

And he knew, what burns hot, fades even faster. By the time it wasn't utter love and admiration he saw in their eyes. Instead, he saw doubt and grief, slowly turning to anger and hatred. Towards him.

And in his terrible wrath he smote those who doubted him, smote his own people.

After that there were whispers in his own garrison. Whispers, that he had become insane, driven to madness by having to kill his own siblings.

And if he would have been honest to himself, he secretly knew those voices were right. But he was known for his pride and so he refused to believe so.

Perhaps he was insane, but for a different reason. The Mark. The Mark to seal away his father's sister, the Mark that held too much power for him to bear. He had to lose it. And he found a way. The foolish human Cain, tricked and deceived by the Morningstar now bore the Mark, making it widely known. Making him the first human to commit the most terrible crime: murder. He slaughtered his own brother Abel with the jawbone of a mere cow. Lucifer laughed as he saw the despair in father's eyes as it happened.

But he was afraid, afraid because he knew there was still no going back now.

Then it happened.

His father gave the orders. Lucifer followed out of pride, his beloved brother Michael followed as always out of obedience.

There was a time when he secretly used to be jealous of his brother. What a perfect soldier he was. He knew he could never be like him, and the doubt wormed its way up to his heart. But father's strong, soothing hand on his shoulder and gentle words of assurance had simply made the doubt vanish.

The first thing the oldest archangel had noticed while entering the imposing throne room, was Michael's place, – at father's right. The place where he used to stand, assisting father, deliberating with him.

Tall, proud and in golden armor, sword in his mighty hand, Michael did not look at Lucifer when he entered. His piercing blue gaze was fixated right above his brother's head, not acknowledging him. Lucifer couldn't help but grin at his brother's stubbornness.

A choir of whispers surrounded him, hundreds of angel's bearing witness in the throne room.

There was a time those whispers were full of worship and adoration – adoration for him, the Morningstar. But instead of soft, quiet whispers, words of fondness and devotion, those whispers were now cruel and harsh, piercing like the ice-cold wind of earth below.

Insane... evil... traitor... unholy... MONSTER!

He growled and turned around, facing the brutal voices. How could they. They were his family. How dared they insult him that way. After all he was the first and most powerful archangel, Lucifer Morningstar, the bringer of dawn and (he used to be) God's most beloved.

And who were they? Low, meaningless angels, talking about him like he was insane, when in truth they were the blind, little sheep.

He smiled. Pathetic, he thought, as he looked into their faces, expressions full of terror. He snapped his fingers, a dozen angels disintegrating. The unharmed angels cried out in horror, cowering under his fiery blue stare and he delighted in their fear.

“LUCIFER!”

There he was. His brother finally looked him in the eye. Lucifer grinned at him too.

“You will pay for this.”, Michael's voice sounded, threateningly low, but his older brother was not impressed.

They met in the middle of the white throne room, surrounded by angels and marble-pillars.

It happened fast. Michael raised his sword. The proud, strong archangel Michael, but most of all his dear brother, was fighting him.

They had fought before, before all of it happened. They had fought about every mild inconvenience, driving father and his siblings mad. But back then, there was always some sort of playfulness, even cheer in their eyes. And if he hurt Michael in a serious manner, or the other way around, the brothers would always apologize, hug and laugh it off, not seeing the content smile on their father's face afterwards.

But not now.

Now, it was Michael's intent to end him. His hits showed no mercy, relentlessly battling him, channeling all his strength. His mighty sword coming down on his and the look on his face, grim and cold, showing no emotion.

Lucifer knew his brothers and sisters were watching them, they cried out in horror every time one of them was hit.

The two beautiful brothers were fighting hard and relentlessly, divine swords crashing together in loud, metallic rings.

But Lucifer knew he was still a better fighter, more powerful. He was the first archangel, angel, older than his brother and he would win.

Or so he thought. He had underestimated his brother's grim determination, underestimated Michael's will to turn against him.

At first he thought there was a chance of talking to his stubborn brother, but every time he attempted to speak, his brother's eyes would glow, bright and blue, and his celestial energy would force Lucifer back.

Still the Morningstar believed he would win that terrible battle.

And Lucifer was furious. How could his brother do that to him? How could father do this to him? He loved them, he loved all of his family.

They were both bleeding now, grace shining bright through their bodies.

Father's voice rumbled through heaven's throne room, commanding them to halt in their action. They both stopped, Michael out of obedience, Lucifer out of old habit.

Father's accusations numbed him but at the same time...

There it was.

The flame inside of him, burning bright and red through his eyes and Michael's look of utter disturbance when he saw his brother's blue eyes turn red for the first time fueled his unstoppable rage even more.

With proud strides the Morningstar made his way over to father's throne.

The angels screamed as they saw him raise his sword at father, and then he screamed when  Michael roughly yanked him backwards.

By his wings.

The most sensitive and most holy part of an angel's body. The most intimate. He could feel feathers ripping out, blood spilling, the small bones crushed under Michael's merciless grip.

With a roar he turned around with the intention of causing Michael as much pain as he experienced.

But then it happened. For a split second he could see Michael's facade crumble when he heard father's command. He could see the real Michael, not the cold soldier but his little brother, staring up at him in dread. Even for Michael father's choice of punishment sounded cruel.

Lucifer stared at his brother, awaiting his reaction.

A choir of terrified angel voices followed them again and when he saw the clouds dividing, the distant green of earth so contrary to the white marble of the throne room, he knew it was the end.

Michael's expression shifted back to grim and determined.

For the last time Lucifer allowed himself to look at his brothers.

Gabriel. Tears were streaming down his little brothers face, arms around a little fledgling who had buried his face in Gabriel's side.

Raphael stared at him without emotion, looking at him as if watching the clouds in heaven.

But Lucifer couldn't look at father. Not after this. He despised him.

And in this moment he swore his revenge would be terrible.

With gleaming red eyes he turned his face to look at Michael. The cold breeze from the opening rustled his and Michael's feathers.

He grinned at his brother, his face a mocking grimace.

“What are you waiting for, brother?”, he spat.

With another violent pull Michael yanked him forward once again and he could hear his bones break. The pain emerging from his wing was almost unbearable.

Lucifer wanted to stop his brother from dragging him, tried hitting him with his bare hands, kicking him, clawing at him, anything to protect his wings, but his hands did not affect Michael and he knew, it was father who protected his brother against his attacks.

He stumbled after his little brother, cursing him, cursing father and the entirety of heaven.

When his other wing broke, the angels started crying but he simply laughed.

“You are a monster, Lucifer.”, his brother's cold voice hurting him more than his grip on his wings.

With those words Michael let his white, bloodstained wings go and violently kicked him, hard, in the back, right between his destroyed wings.

Then he fell, accompanied by his sibling's cries.

What he mostly remembers from the fall is pain and the smell of his burning wings. Once he reached a certain speed, he was nothing but a ball of fire.

His broken wings were flapping useless above him, burning.

He tried to do anything to slow himself, tried to lift his once strong wings, but the broken bones did not allow him to.

It is said the scream that erupted from Lucifer's throat that moment shook not only heaven, but hell and earth as well.

And mankind was terrified once they caught sight of the archangel, falling in a fiery mess, and heard his terrible cry.  

The moment he collided with earth's rough surface, he wished he had lost consciousness.

Instead, he hit the surface with a shattering thud.

Only then, everything went black.

When he woke up again, he found himself behind strong, warded metal bars., His father's print clear on them.

He knew father had meant to bind him, to not release him upon the earth, threatening his oh so beloved creation.

The millennia he spent imprisoned in the cage had their fair share on him. Healing was hard, all alone in the darkness with no help.

His wings...

His beautiful wings were destroyed. The once alabaster white feathers, with sprinkles of pure gold at the feather's ends were now black and stunted – burned.

And he wept for them, wept alone in the darkness of the sickening cage, wept for his despair and repudiation.

Once he used to laugh at his father's poor creativity, locking him up just like he did to his sister.

Once he used to laugh at the screams of the doomed souls, suffering.

After a while he stopped. He became... considerate, quiet.

Over hundreds of years he took the time of the solitude to heal himself.

And finally his wings were restored to their former glory, as well as the rest of his body.

But not his mind. It was broken and no grace, no divine power could repair it. There was nothing but a storm of dark clouds, full of hatred, disdain and rage.

So he was left with himself. Thinking, planning, listening.

And how he learned to loathe his father and all his creation.

The once beautiful archangel Lucifer Morningstar, God's most beloved child, was now the Devil.

Twisted, sick and evil, he waited.

A whisper. Promises from Azazel, one of his princes. Promises for him. He hoped Azazel wouldn't fail – otherwise not even the bars of the damned cage would save the demon from his wrath.

Then, he felt a low rumble, vibrating through the cage.

Then another. And another.

He could sense her coming. His first creation. Lilith. After all she was bound to him.

Her words were the sweetest music in his ears.

Music, of the 66 seals being broken, music of heaven's armies failing.

And finally he laughed again and all of hell heard him and cheered.

Lucifer would walk the earth and be their salvation.

With the last seal breaking, the fire in him burned again, after a long time.

He was free again.

Finally he was going to get his revenge.

And it would be so sweet.

He smiled. He would destroy the one thing that brought him his doom – humanity.

And he would find such pleasure in destroying his father’s most beloved creation.

Lucifer would destroy mankind the same way his father had destroyed him.

He was surprised at how easy it was to possess his first vessel. How easily manipulated humans still were.

Thousands of years after their creation and they were just as weak and pathetic as the day they first opened their eyes.

The suffering they would endure once he had raised hell would be terrible, and he hoped that father, wherever he was, would see the mistake he made.

He knew his brother's garrison was after him, but he had other, more important concerns.

For example convincing Sam Winchester to be his vessel – it was his destiny after all. The same way it was Sam's idiotic brother's destiny to be Michael's vessel.

But the brothers were... stronger and more resistant than usual, their brotherly love painfully reminding him of what he and Michael once used to have.

He did not worry though, they were just humans after all and he was, well, the Devil.

Then, the one thing he always tried to avoid happened.

His little brother, Gabriel got in his way, and he couldn't understand why he would care for those pagans. Lesser beings, not half as worth as his little brother himself, far beneath him.

So he left his little Gabriel the choice – him or Michael, to evaluate whether he was worthy of being a part of his new kingdom.

And oh how he wished his little brother would have picked him, how his foolish little brother would see that he was the right choice.

But Gabriel was blind and so he had to end him.

He simply couldn't show any more weakness. Now it was about his main goal, and to reach it. He would turn against his family for it, like they once turned on him. He had tried but his brother had left him no choice.

And so he had turned around, piercing his brother's own blade right through his heart, watching the life leave his eyes, shining bright and blue through them.

He cried and wept for his little brother but it had to be. There was no way he could allow any form of resistance in his kingdom.

The world would be his, only his.

But of course his other brother couldn’t let that happen.

Lucifer still loved Michael. Even now, after what Michael had done to him. Even after his last words to him had stung terribly.

So he tried talking to him, get him to understand that he wasn’t evil. (Just) simply misunderstood.

But his stupid, prideful, stubborn brother wouldn’t listen to him. He was just as blind as Gabriel was.

So they had to fight and he knew he would win. He was the Morningstar after all.

And his kingdom would rise.

But then, this miserable human and his imbecile brother damaged his plans.

When Sam Winchester accepted to be his vessel, he knew he should have locked him far away in his mind before, but it was so much fun watching the younger Winchester suffer.

Watching it tear him apart that he wasn’t strong enough to overpower him, to watch innocent people die at his own hands.

And how he enjoyed beating up the pitiful other one, Dean, making him suffer at his Sammy’s hand.

But he underestimated them, and he cursed himself for it.

His stupid vessel took control, and it grabbed Michael, dragging both of them with him.

And then he was there again.

The one place he wished to never be again, the one place he feared.

He had wished to never having to look at the iron bars, how they seemingly got closer with every breath he took.

But this time he wasn’t alone.

And even if he couldn’t get his revenge on father, he knew ways nobody else knew of, to make the person suffer who brought him back to the hell hole.

A smile crept up his face.

He would break Sam Winchester.

#supernatural #gabriel supernatural #lucifer supernatural #god supernatural #michael supernatural #Sam winchester #dean winchester #archangels #archangels supernatural #satan has daddy issues #poor #little luci #lucifer sam winchester #lucifer supernatural pov #supernatural and family issues #lucifers fall #lucifer is alone and bitter #yes i am a lucifer apologist #no i am not a satanist #but i do love satan #this is way too dramatic #lol post #gods most beloved #my writing is trash

[fanmoose12]

come with me now (to see my new world)

It is the best day of her life.

Hange was working her ass off for seven long years just so she could afford to organize this expedition, and now as she stands in the middle of the African jungle, she feels as happy as she has ever been.

She breathes in deeply, savoring the smell. The air here is different, not unlike the stuffy, polluted streets of London. This is what freedom smells like, Hange thinks with a smile.

“The air is so fresh!” she exclaims, turning around to stare at her faithful assistants – quiet and collected Moblit and adorable, hard-working Nifa.

A shadow of regret passes over her features, as she stares at the empty place, where two other members of her team should stand. She worked hard to pay for this expedition, but still she couldn’t afford to take her whole team with her. Keiji and Abel had to stay behind, and even though they didn’t seem that disappointed and both of them assured her that they were fine with not going, because they had to care for their families, Hange feels their absence keenly.

She misses them and she wishes they could be there with her, she wants to share her discoveries with all of her diligent assistants, but still, even that is not enough to dampen her mood.

“I don’t know about you,” Floch begins, his face twisting in an expression of disgust. “But I don’t enjoy smelling hundreds of feces from those ugly monkeys.”

Floch’s stupid remarks definitely are not enough to worsen her mood. She had plenty of time to get used to them on their way to this island.

So she ignores him, instead turning to Floch’s superior, a man named Zeke Yeager, who was hired by Hange to ensure hers and her assistants’ safety. “Zeke, would you be so kind, as to inform your subordinate that if he doesn’t have anything of value to say – he’d better keep his mouth shut.”

Zeke smiles at that. Hange doesn’t like that smile – it seems condescending, but, as before, she decides to ignore it. Thinking that the incident is over and forgotten, she returns back to admiring the scenery. But a second later, the peaceful atmosphere of the jungle is destroyed by a loud, defining pop. Hange immediately recognizes the sound of a gunshot.

With her ears ringing, she looks behind and sees Floch. He holds a rifle in his arms and smock curls up above it. Anger overcomes her in a second. In two short strides, she reaches Floch, grabbing him by his collar and lifting him from the ground.

“You mindless fool!” Hange hisses right in his face. Floch looks at her, his eyes filling with panic, as he desperately tries to free himself. His face shows nothing, but terror. Good, Hange thinks fleetingly, that’s what the fucker deserves. “You idiot, you imbecile, what do you think you’re doing?”

Floch doesn’t answer, just stares at her with wide, scared eyes. Hange notices that his breaths become too shallow. In her periphery, she also notices Moblit and Nifa, as they try to calmly approach her. Zeke beats them to it.

“Professor Hange,” he begins, his voice as calm and soft as morning breeze. “Please forgive Floch for his mistake. He probably misinterpreted the purpose of our mission.”

“And what do you think we’ve come here to do?” Hange shakes Floch again. “Do you think we’ve come here to hunt those innocent animals?” she gives him another hard gaze, before pushing him away and taking a sharp turn, her lips still pursed in disgust. Floch falls to his knees, his legs too shaky to support him.

Hange looks up at Zeke. “And why didn’t you explain him the reason for our expedition?”

“My apologies,” Zeke lifts his hands, flashing her a charming smile. “I thought it was obvious. He won’t do the same mistake again, you have my promise.”

“I hope so. For his sake,” she adds, looking back at Floch.

His face is still red and his shoulders are slightly shaking. He looks ready to cry. Pathetic fool, Hange thinks furiously, as she walks to the members of her team.

“Sorry about that, guys,” she says, chuckling. Her anger is hidden, but not forgotten.

“Don’t worry, Professor Hange,” Nifa smiles prettily. “We are used to that.”

“What do you need as to do?” Moblit asks, as always ready to follow her every order.

For a moment, Hange just stares at them, as a wave of a nearly overwhelming fondness washes over her. Her assistants, her most loyal followers, the ones, who remained at her side through it all. Where would she be without their support?

“For now, get some rest,” she squeezes Nifa and Moblit’s shoulders. “And tomorrow we’ll start our survey of the island.”

It is a hard decision to make for Hange wants nothing more than to begin exploring those exotic lands. But their journey was long and tiring. All of them need some rest.

Moblit and Nifa nod, simultaneously starting to walk to their tents. Hange stays, looking around.

And then, out of the corner of her eyes, she sees something – something black and small. It watches Hange with the same interest as she does, and she squints her eyes to take a better look. She smiles, as she realizes it’s a small baboon. The baboon starts moving and Hange follows after him, as it leads her away from their camp. She pursues him through the sun-filled clearing and into a jungle, where thick leaves and tall palms trees begin to surround her with darkness. Not only darkness surround Hange, as she moves through the forest, but she doesn’t notice the dozen pair of red eyes, which follow her, or a shadow, who watches her from a distance. Instead, she is too engrossed in studying the movements of the baboon.

It is only when the baboon disappears from her view that Hange finally takes a good look at her surroundings. And she sees a pack of much larger baboons, sitting on the trees around her. She swears there are smirks on their faces, as they look down on her.

Hange wants to shout, to turn around and start running back to camp. But then a strong hand comes seemingly out of nowhere and lifts her up, holding her by the bracers on her pants.

A second later, Hange is up on a tree, as a pair of arms circle around her waist. And then, together, they start moving, jumping from one tree to another. A cry of shock and joy rips from Hange’s lips, as she realizes that she is almost flying through the air. She tries to take a better look at her savior, but everything is blurry, since she lost her glasses, probably when she was lifted up. So all she sees is long black hair, which obscures their face. However, Hange doesn’t feel even the smallest ounce of fear. She feels light and happy. She lets out a cheer, as emotions overwhelm her.

Her savior doesn’t seem to appreciate it, as they let out a quiet growl. In the next moment, they land on a tree. Whatever complain Hange had, it dies in her throat as she takes another look at them.

Not quite believing her eyes, she takes a step closer. She stumbles and almost falls, but then strong hands rise up to steady her. Slowly, Hange lifts her own arm to brush away black locks.  

A quiet gasp leaves her lips, as she sees, what was hidden by them. It’s a face, a human face, with straight nose, strong jawline and a pair of piercing grey eyes. Those eyes, they are filled with intelligence, with feelings Hange can’t quite read.

She takes another look at him – the man doesn’t quite look like human. He doesn’t stand like humans do. His posture reminds Hange of guerillas she studied so much about. Can it really be?

She looks carefully into his eyes, searching for any sign of fear or discomfort. When she doesn’t see any, Hange lays her palm on his cheek, marveling at how soft and warm his skin is.

The man stares at her back and takes Hange’s hand in his, looking at it so intensely, as though he studies it. Then he raises both of their palms, his fingertips touching Hange’s. He seems completely transfixed by the image of their palms, pressed against each other.

Hange knows she should feel embarrassed or outraged, proper ladies shouldn’t let some strangers touch them so intimately, especially strangers, who wear nothing but a loincloth. But Hange was never a proper lady. And she isn’t going to become one now.

“I’m Hange,” she says, when the silence has stretched for too long. “And what’s your name?”

The man looks up at her, furrowing his eyebrows in a confused expression. “Hange?” he asks slowly, carefully pronouncing each syllable of her name.

“Yes,” Hange smiles. “That’s my name.”

“Hange,” he repeats. Still holding her palm in his, he intertwines their fingers and then presses them over her chest. “Hange?”

“Yes,” squeezing his hand ever so slightly, she lays their joined hand on the man’s chest. “And you?”

The man looks deeply into her eyes. His own gaze seems confused, he lowers his head, mouthing something so softly Hange can’t hear him. She almost asks him again, but then the man looks up.

“Levi,” he whispers finally. “I’m Levi.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Levi,” Hange lets go of his hand.

She suddenly realizes that they are close, and not only that, but Levi is slowly leaning even closer, his gaze focused on her lips. Hange swiftly moves away, chuckling awkwardly. She is sure that her face is all red, so she turns away, pretending to look at the horizon.

“How long have you been living here?” she asks. “Are there any like you?”

“No,” Levi shakes his head. If there was any disappointment on his face, it’s gone, before Hange was able to see it. “You are… the first one like me.”

“Oh,” Hange’s eyes widen, as she understands everything Levi didn’t tell her. He has grown up without his parents. At least, without his human parents. Probably, some animals picked him up and raised him as their own. That’s why Levi stands so awkwardly, with his legs and arms bend. And that’s why it is so hard for him to talk.

The silence falls over them once more, as Hange is lost to her thoughts, and Levi is lost in watching her. This silence is suddenly interrupted, as a loud sound rips through the jungle.

Levi startles, his posture tensing and his eyes moving frantically, as he looks out for the possible threat.

Hange lays a careful hand on his shoulder, as she tries to soothe his worry and her own anger.

She was gone for no more than a goddamn hour. Did Zeke and Floch decide that she was dead already, so they can do whatever they want?

Not so fucking fast.

“Don’t worry,” she says with soft eyes and an encouraging smile. “That’s Zeke and Floch. They won’t hurt you,” at least, Hange hopes they won’t hurt him.

“Zeke and Floch?” Levi asks.

Before Hange can nod, they hear another gunshot. Levi shudders, and Hange feels a nearly unrestrained urge to grab Floch and tear him into pieces.

“Yes, Zeke and Floch,” her voice is grim and her face is gloomy. “I… I need to go.”

Levi nods. “If Hange needs to go, Levi will lead her.”

“You don’t know where our camp is.”

“No, I… watched you. I know where others like you are.”

“Ah… well, okay.” Hange isn’t sure how to feel about this, but before she can decide, Levi puts his arms around her waist and then starts jumping from tree to tree.

This time, she tries to pay more attention to the way Levi moves, but his movements are so swift that Hange can barely keep up with him. Without her glasses, she sees nothing more than a blur of trees, as they hurry past them.

Levi’s fast and evidently strong, but he’s also collected and moves with the most accurate of precisions.

Hange feels like she could watch him all day.

However, before she can really relish in the feeling of Levi’s body beside her (which fills her with a surprisingly large amount of emotions she doesn’t really want to process), he softly lowers her to the ground, letting go of her.

But he doesn’t walk away.

“You want to go with me?” Hange asks him carefully.

For a second, Levi seems hesitant, but then he nods.

“Zeke and Floch,” he says again. “I don’t like them. Maybe, it isn’t safe for you.”

Hange smiles. A strange feeling appears in her chest at the thought that Levi worries for her so.  

“Let’s go then,” she takes his palm in hers. “And don’t worry. Nothing will harm you, as long as I am here.”

As soon as Hange sets foot in the camp, she gets nearly squashed by two pairs of hands.

“You worried us so much,” Nifa whispers in her shoulders, squeezing Hange nearly painfully. Hange chuckles, as she doesn’t miss the accusatory notes in Nifa’s voice.

“You shouldn’t go around, wondering by herself,” Moblit lectures her, sounding both reprimanding and relieved. “And you’ve lost her glasses again,” he sighs. “Good thing I always carry a spare pair.”

Neither Nifa, nor Moblit seem to notice Levi, who is still standing beside Hange.

It is Zeke, who sees him first.

“Who is that, Professor Hange?” he comes closer, studying Levi with curious eyes. “You found a friend?”

There is a smile on his lips. Maybe, it is supposed to look sweet and kind. To Hange, it looks cruel and calculating.

So she takes a step forward, partially covering Levi with her own body. “That’s Levi,” she says, her voice hard. She looks up at Zeke, her eyes defiant.

Floch pushes past Zeke. His face twists, as his gaze lands on Levi. “Is he even human? He looks like a freak.”

Hange feels like choking him again. She almost moves to do so, but suddenly Nifa speaks up.

“Maybe, you should test your eyesight, Floch,” her tone is mocking, but she looks at him with hard, angry eyes. Hange feels proud, as she watches her subordinate. “Or, maybe, let doctors check your brain. I don’t know if you’re blind or stupid, but to me, it’s obvious that he’s human.”

Hange flashes her a grateful smile. Then, Moblit comes forward. He stands in front of Hange, and it doesn’t escape her notice that he specifically chose this position, so he could shield Hange and Levi from Floch and Zeke.

Really, what she would have done without them?

“His stance doesn’t remind that of a human,” he scratches his chin. “It’s almost looks like a guerilla’s?”

“I thought it looks more like orangutan’s,” Nifa huffs, glaring at Moblit. “But now I see that you’re right. As always,” she adds almost petulantly.

“Excellent work, guys!” Hange beams. “Levi actually grew up with guerillas.”

Hange looks back at Levi. He seems tense and uncomfortable, but as soon as Hange directs her smile at him, he relaxes ever so slightly.

As they stare at each other, none of them notice the sudden uneasiness that falls around them.

Moblit and Nifa are smiling, but they exchange a look between them, as they notice that their superior is holding hands with a weird, animal-like man.

Floch’s brows are furrowed and he stares at the scene in front of him with disgust and confusion.

And Zeke’s smile is sweet and victorious, as a plan begins to form inside his head.

“Hey, Levi?” Hange breaks the silence. “You want to see something awesome?”

And before Levi can actually answer, she drags him to her tent.

There, she shows him books, her journals and maps. She shows him every bit of equipment they’ve brought on this expedition. Levi seems curious, but not overly enthusiastic. However, when Hange shows him their projector, flicking through picture after picture, his eyes begin to fill with wonder.

“It’s amazing,” he whispers, staring at the photo of London. There are a hundreds of people depicted there, as all of them cheer on a departing ship. “There are so many… there are so many who look exactly like me.”

Hange watches him with the same wonder that Levi’s gaze is filled with. There are so many things he doesn’t know, but there are also so many things she doesn’t know.

Maybe, they can teach each other, she thinks. Maybe, both of them can show each other what they are lacking.

 ***

So the next day, Hange and Levi begin their ‘lessons’.

Hange teaches him how to read and write. The progress is slow, as Levi easily gets frustrated. He throws the quill away, when his letters come out messy. He threatens to tear the book apart, when he struggles with reading a particularly difficult sentence.

It takes a lot of time, and even more persuasion from Hange, to keep him going. But despite his curses, Levi comes back, asking Hange to teach him more.

So Hange explains him the basics of math and physics, and Moblit helps Levi to learn about history, while Nifa tells him about art and literature.

He doesn’t seem particularly interested in any of those studies, but he listens carefully and keeps in mind everything they tell him.

In turn, Levi shows Hange his way of life. He leads her to well-hidden lakes and takes her to the highest of trees. He points out flowers and herbs Hange has never heard about, and he introduces her to the animals and birds she has never dreamed of seeing.

And while teaching each other, Hange and Levi also learn more about each other.

Hange learns that Levi is grumpy and gloomy. She also discovers that he has extremely high hygiene standards, especially for a man, who grew up with animals. Whenever Hange neglects her appearances for too long and spends too much time without a bath, Levi starts glaring at her and refuses to speak, until she is clean. But despite all of his weirdness, Hange finds out that this attitude is nothing more than a façade that hides a kind, if only a little rough, man.

And Levi discovers that even though Hange always seems happy and upbeat, there is a quieter, more thoughtful side of her. He learns how to understand each shade of her smile and each meaning of her stare.

However, with every little thing that they learn, they want to find out even more.

Levi wants to watch the ships sail and cars ride. He wants to witness the smoke that rises over London and to feel a wind on his face, as he looks out of the train’s window. He wants to put his fingers into Hange’s hair to see if it’s as soft as it actually looks. And he wants to touch her lips with his, to try and find out if her smile really is as sweet as it looks.

Hange wants to find more about his past. She wants to meet the animals that raised him and she wants to study each centimeter of that island. She wants to see Levi smile, to see his eyes shine with happiness. She wants him to hold her in his arms, the same way he did when they’ve just met. She wants to know, if Levi can make her feel as safe and warm, as he did the first time.

 ***

Each evening Levi leaves their camp. He doesn’t tell, where he’s going, only vaguely says that he needs to return to his family. Hange doesn’t ask. She knows that when he’s ready, Levi will tell her everything himself.

Besides, Levi comes back to her every morning, and there is nothing more that Hange can ask of him.

However, not everyone is as happy about it, as she is.

Floch rolls his eyes and purses his lips every time he sees Levi. He is a freak, half-human and half-beast, and Floch doesn’t understand why that scientist keeps that abomination by her side. She’s crazy and doesn’t know what’s best for her, that’s for sure. And when that monster will get bored of her and rip her into pieces, Floch won’t lift a single finger to help her.

Zeke’s feelings about Levi are a lot complicated than his subordinate’s. He admits that he is intrigued by him, not nearly as much as Professor Hange seems to be, but enough to often watch him out of the corner of his eyes. But curiosity isn’t the only thing that Zeke feels. No, as he watches Levi talk with Professor Hange, their hands brushing against each other and their gazes soft and gentle, he sees an opportunity. He knows where Levi goes each night. He knows that he comes to his so-called family. If only Levi was more careless and less vigilant, Zeke could have followed him. Right into the guerilla’s nest. He can be rich if he catches just a couple of them. But if he manages to catch more, and if he takes the man, raised by them, with him... Oh, he will become a legend.

But Zeke knows he can’t follow Levi, and he knows that there is no way that Levi will agree to show him the nest willingly. There is a way, though, another way to find the guerilla’s nest.

And as he listens to Professor Hange’s delightful laugh, Zeke knows that persuading Levi won’t be such a difficult task.

 ***

Hange and Moblit are quietly sipping their afternoon tea, watching Levi read a book in the corner, when Nifa waltzes up to them. She wears a big smile on her lips, as she comes to sit next to Hange.

“Hey, I was thinking,” she begins, toying with a lock of her hair. “Levi can be your subject for the new thesis, Professor Hange.”

Hange glances at her, her eyes only a little hard. “No,” she answers, drinking from her cup. “That’s a great suggestion, Nifa, really but…” she trails off, not knowing, how to explain her point without hurting Nifa’s feelings.

“But Levi is not a test subject,” Moblit comes to her rescue, as always putting Hange’s chaotic thoughts into order. “He’s a person and Professor’s friend.”

Hange nods, smiling gratefully. “Something like that, yes.”

“Oh,” Nifa blushes in embarrassment.

She glances at Moblit, a question in her eyes. Moblit says nothing, just points in the direction of Professor Hange. Nifa cocks her head to the side, following Professor Hange’s gaze. And then, oh, she finally sees what Moblit sees.

Hange’s eyes are soft, as she watches Levi. Levi himself seems engrossed in his book, but suddenly he lifts his head. Their gazes meet, just for a second, but it’s enough to put a small smile on both of their faces.

Nifa sighs and then turns to Moblit. She sends him the meanest of her glares. How does he always do it? How does he notice all those things about Professor Hange? And why does he never share them with her?

 ***

“C’mon!” Nifa whines, as she pulls on Levi’s hand.

“Will Hange really like it?” Levi gives a bouquet in his arms another critical look. His tenth for the past five minutes.

Nifa rolls her eyes. “She will love it, I swear!” she puts on her most charming smile, trying to persuade Levi.

She still feels a bit guilty about proposing to make a thesis about Levi. Even if Hange seemingly has forgotten about it, it weighs heavily over Nifa’s conscience. That’s why she dragged Levi out with her, encouraging him to pick up some flowers and then gift them to Professor Hange.

A new wave of determination settles over Nifa, as she imagines the happy smile on her superior’s face. She will make Levi bring that stupid bouquet for her. By any means necessary.

“Don’t you trust me?” Nifa asks, batting her eyelashes. She waits for Levi to yield, after all, this trick works on everyone. But not on Levi, apparently. Is it because he grew up in a jungle? Or because he likes someone else?

Beside Nifa, Levi regards her carefully. Does he trust her? He isn’t sure. Of course, Nifa isn’t as sleazy or suspicious like Zeke and Floch. But, on the other hand, she isn’t Hange. And Levi doesn’t know if he can trust any human, except for her.

But then again, Hange seems to like Nifa. She’s relaxed next to her, her eyes aren’t narrowed, when she looks at her, and her voice isn’t hard or angry, when she talks with her.

He decides to give it a try. “You won,” he sighs. “I’ll give her those stupid flowers, but if she doesn’t like them,” Levi gives Nifa a hard look. “I’ll make you eat them.”

“That’s a deal!” Nifa giggles, pushing him forward. She tries to hide her nervousness, to ignore that knot that appears in her stomach. Even though, she knows it’s probably an empty threat, shivers still run down her spine. Levi knows how to be scary.

When they both come back to camp, Hange is in a middle of discussion with Zeke.

As soon as they approach, though, she lifts her head, smiling.  “Where were you, guys? I was starting to get worried.”

“Levi asked me to help him with something,” Nifa smiles back, giving Levi another push.

He was hiding the flowers behind his back, just as Nifa has instructed him to. But as he takes a step towards Hange, he tentatively hands them out to her.

He keeps his head turned away, avoiding her gaze. His eyes snap back to her, though, when Hange lets out a quiet gasp. She stares at the flowers, a look of shock settling over her features. Levi’s gaze then lands on Nifa, as he glares daggers at her. However, before he can push the bouquet down her throat, Hange lets out a loud squeal.

She snatches the flowers out of Levi’s hands, admiring them for a moment. Then she presses them into Nifa’s arms. With her own hands now free, Hange envelops Levi in the tight hug.

“They’re so pretty!” she exclaims, still holding onto him. “Thank you so much, Levi!”

Nifa smiles to herself, as she sees a pleased look on Levi’ face.

“You may live another day,” he mouths to her, before returning his eyes to Hange.

As Levi and Hange are looking at each other, Zeke is looking at them. A smile appears on his lips – an evil, but pleased one.

His plan is almost ready.

 ***

It is a beautiful night.

It’s warm, with only the gentlest of breezes ruffling through Hange’s hair. The stars and moon shine brightly, reflecting in the vast ocean.

It is a beautiful night, even more so, because Levi is sitting next to her, so close their fingers brush against each other.

Hange sighs, picking up a small pebble and throwing it into the ocean.

It is a beautiful night. But she doesn’t enjoy it.

“I’m leaving soon,” Hange announces quietly.

“Alright,” Levi nods, “And when will you come back?”

“I don’t know,” Hange puts her head onto her knees, wrapping arms around herself “I don’t think I will be able to come back. But maybe,” she side-glances Levi, knowing the answer to her next question already. “You can go with me.”

“No,” Levi shakes his head, his voice filled with regret Hange feels so keenly. “My place is here. But… maybe, you can stay?”

“No,” Hange tightly closes her eyes. She won’t let those tears spill. “My place is there.”

And that’s the ultimate truth, isn’t it? Despite what they feel for each other, they are different. They belong to different worlds. Ones that can never be connected.

Slowly, Levi wraps his hands around Hange. “But we still have some time, right?” he whispers, as he presses his face into hair.

“Yes,” Hange answers, feeling safer and warmer than she has in her entire life. She smiles. “We still have time.”

 ***

“Hey, Levi?” Zeke calls him. “Can we talk?”

They are sailing to England tomorrow, so today is the perfect time to bring his plan to life. Zeke waited for the moment, when Levi was alone, away from Professor Hange. And as soon as Professor went inside her tent to discuss something with one of her assistants, Zeke approached him.

“Do you know that we’re going back tomorrow?” Zeke smiles. He wants to put a hand on Levi’s shoulder. Levi’s glare makes him change his mind. Well, it’s a good thing that his plan isn’t depending on Levi’s feelings towards him. It relies on Levi’s feelings towards someone else.

“Hange told me,” Levi answers, a shadow of sadness flashing through his eyes. Good, Zeke thinks. That’s exactly what he needs.

“She won’t be able to come back,” Zeke begins, feigning disappointment. “She worked so hard to organize this expedition, but, unfortunately, it didn’t produce the results she hoped for. If only,” Zeke sighs, hanging his head.

“If only what?” Levi instantly asks.

Zeke hides a victorious smile.

“You know that she wanted to study guerillas? If only you could show her what she came here for,” he shakes his head. “Professor will be so happy, and maybe then her research will be well-received in England. She will be able to come back here again.”

“Hange will return?” it is hard not to notice the hope in Levi’s voice.

“If you show her the guerillas’ nest,” Zeke replies. “But they’re your family, I understand that you can’t betray them like that.”

He took his aim. Now the only thing Zeke needs to do is to shoot.

So he lifts his gaze, as Hange walks out of her tent. She doesn’t seem to notice him, giving Levi a small smile, before hurrying after her assistant. Zeke glances at Levi and sees that he is watching her intently, a wide range of emotions swirling in his eyes.

“Professor Hange will be so happy…” Zeke whispers and walks away, leaving Levi alone with his thoughts.

His hunt is almost over.

 ***

“Hange,” Levi tugs at her arm, dragging her away from Moblit and Nifa. “Can we talk?”

“Of course,” she smiles, shooting an apologizing look to her assistants. “What do you want to talk about?”

Levi doesn’t answer, continuing to drag her away, until they are out of tent, out of camp, away from other people.

“Levi?” Hange slightly pulls at his arm. She doesn’t stop following him, but she slows her steps, waiting for Levi to turn around. “Do you just want to talk or—”  

“Did you come here to just survey the island?” he asks instead, finally looking at Hange. “Or did you arrive to study something else too?”

“I…” Hange’s completely taken aback. How did Levi—?

“So it’s true,” Levi doesn’t need her to answer verbally, he sees everything in her eyes. “You wanted to study guerillas.” Again, Levi doesn’t ask her, just states it as a fact. So Zeke was right. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t, Levi,” Hange says, painfully honest. “I know that pack is incredibly important to guerillas, and even though, you’re human, you were raised by them. I just couldn’t ask that of you.”

Levi feels something warm spread through his chest. He wasn’t wrong in trusting Hange. She cares about him.

“Let’s go then,” he says, starting to move again. “You’re right, I can’t show you the main pack. But… I can take you to my brothers. I know it’s not exactly what you n—”

“No,” Hange interrupts, catching up to him. “That will really help. More than you can imagine. Thank you, Levi.”

Hange’s soft voice and her words make that warmth inside him grow bigger.

“I hope it’s enough,” Levi mutters, too quiet for Hange to hear.

 ***

When they approach Levi’s brothers, Hange does so with caution and care. Not because she is afraid of them, Levi sees that she’s almost trembling with excitement, but because she doesn’t want them to be afraid of her.

“Oh my goodness,” she whispers, as she watches them. The two guerillas watch her back. “Levi,” she turns to him then, her eyes filled with implore. “I know this is too much, but—”

Levi tsks, rolling his eyes. “Fine, you can go back to bring your equipment.”

“And?”

“And you can take your assistants with you,” he sighs. “But those jerks are not allowed,” he adds, scowling.

Hange doesn’t need him to specify who exactly he means.

“Of course!” Hange agrees. “Thank you again, Levi!”

She lays her hands on his shoulder and presses a kiss on his cheek, before sprinting away.

Levi tsks again, as he sees smirks on the faces of his brothers.

That damned woman.

 ***

Hange returns fifteen minutes later, Moblit and Nifa trailing after her. The three of them have their hands full, as they carry everything Hange may need for her research. They quickly set up the equipment, and then Levi has nothing better to do than to watch Hange and her team move around, muttering something to each other, as they analyze and discuss all the data they gather.

It’s a boring sight, but Levi can’t quite tear his eyes away from Hange. The way her eyebrows furrow together, when she’s deep in thought, the way she shakes her head or runs a hand through her hair, when she’s distressed, or that smile that appears, when she finally reaches the satisfying conclusion… it mesmerizes Levi. He catches himself thinking that he can watch Hange all day long.

Oh, he is going to miss her terribly, Levi knows it already.

And so he hopes that by bringing her out there he increases their chances on reunion. He hopes that he made Hange happy. After all, it’s only fair, if Levi tries to make her feel as good, as she always makes him.

 ***

They spend the whole afternoon in that small clearing. At first, Hange, Moblit and Nifa just study the guerillas from afar, writing everything down. Then they start interacting with them, as Hange decides to test their ability to memorize things and see their reactions to various stimuli.

It was a long day, and Hange’s exhausted by the time they finish. Exhausted, but so very pleased with her work.

She asks Moblit and Nifa to help her gather their equipment, but they all stop, as they hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps. They come from the direction of their camp, and Hange already knows who is heading their way. With anger rising up inside her again, she starts moving towards the sound, determined to throw those two fuckers out, before they can do any real harm.

But Zeke and Floch start shooting before Hange gets to them. She curses, as she hears the cries of spooked guerillas, and quickens her step.

However, a second later she hears another sound – a different set of footsteps, those ones stronger and louder. They come from a different direction, and Hange freezes as she realizes what that can mean.

She slowly turns around and comes directly face to face with a giant guerilla. It’s the pack leader, Hange immediately guesses. But that information does little to calm her wildly racing heart. The leader looks right at her, his large nostrils flaring as he pants. Is his breathing so heavy, because he is tired or angry, Hange wonders. She doesn’t have to wait long for an answer for the animal raises his head and lets out a loud roar.

She needs to check on Moblit and Nifa, Hange thinks. She needs to find Levi too. And first of all, she needs to run. But her legs don’t listen to her, as fear snakes its way into her heart.

She doesn’t know what to do, but suddenly Levi appears in front of her. He stands between her and the guerilla’s leader, pushing her away with his hand.

“Hange, go!” Levi shouts, his voice urged.

“I can’t,” Hange says, surprised at how weak her voice is. “I can’t leave you!”

He grips her shoulders hard and looks her right in the eyes. “Hange, go, please. I’ll be alright.”

Hange wants to protest, wants to argue and stay by his side, but Levi nods to someone behind her shoulder, and then Hange feels a hand circle around her wrist. She recognizes Moblit’s calloused fingers right away, and when he pulls her, she lets him do it.

The last thing she sees before turning away is Levi’s back, as he stands with his head held up, staring at the leader of his pack.

Oh god, Hange thinks, as she runs through the forest, all of it is her fault.  

 ***

Biting at her thumb, Hange paces around the camp. There are so many feelings inside her – there is fury, worry, fear, love and regret – that she doesn’t know on which one to concentrate.

Worry comes forward first, as Hange thinks about Levi. Where is he now? Is he safe? As those questions appear in her head, fear swiftly joins the worry. And, as she remembers those last moments, when Levi pushed her away, when he looked at her with such intense gaze, her heart begins to ache with love for him.

But then she thinks of Zeke and Floch, and Hange gets nearly overwhelmed with anger. Both of them managed to escape in the chaos that followed their horrible act. Hange hopes they happen upon some wild animals. She hopes that they eat them alive. They’d be lucky then. They’d die a quick death. And if Hange ever sees their cowardly faces, she can’t promise to be so merciful.

He planned it, she suddenly realizes. Zeke, that sleazy fucker, he planned it all.

By god, Hange wants to get her hands on him. She will tear him into fucking pieces.

Her furious thoughts are interrupted, when she hears a sound of rustling leaves. She immediately perks up. She expects, and hopes, to see Zeke and Floch. Instead, Levi comes through.

He is clutching his left side, slowly dragging his feet. His face is bloodied and he is barely conscious. Hange rushes to him, catching him, as he stumbles.

“Levi?” she whispers, holding him in her arms. She raises a hand to gently brush hair away from his face. “Levi, what happened?”

“Had to fight…” he grits though his teeth, panting heavily, “…with a pack leader,” he winces, as pain shots through him.  

“Levi, I’m so sorry…” Hange carefully lays him down, mindful of his injuries. “It’s all my fault, I’m so, so sorry.”

“No,” Levi breathes out, his voice weak and raspy. “No, it’s not. Zeke and Floch… I will find them… and kill them.”

“I’ll help you,” Hange agrees, her jaw clenching.

Moblit and Nifa walk up to them. They help Hange to carry Levi to her tent, bringing the medical supplies.

“Hange…” Levi begins, while she carefully tends to his wounds. “Remember what you said to me? When we were sitting by the ocean? You offered to take me with you… to England.”

Hange gasps, widening her eyes in shock. “Levi, what—”

“I was cast out of the pack,” Levi says, turning his face away. “They think I betrayed them. That I chose you over them. Maybe, they are right.”

“No,” Hange’s voice is hard, as she grabs Levi’s chin to make him look at her. Her gaze softens, as their eyes meet. “Zeke tricked you. He manipulated you. You did nothing wrong, please believe me.”

Levi purses his lips, clearly disagreeing with her. But he doesn’t try to avoid her eyes, and Hange considers it a victory.

“And, of course, you can leave with us. If that’s what you really want.”

“Thank you, Hange,” Levi catches her hand in his, his thumb gently caresses her knuckles. “You’re the best human I know.”

Hange giggles, feeling heat on her face. Levi’s touch brings butterflies to her stomach. “You don’t know a lot of humans.”

“And yet I know you’re the best.

***

In the evening, Hange sits by the fire. There is a journal in her hands, as she tries to read today’s notes. She can’t believe that it was only this morning that Levi let her meet with his brothers.

Moblit and Nifa sleep in their tents, and Levi is pressed against her shoulder, quietly snoring as well.

But to Hange, sleep doesn’t come so easily. There are too many things she needs to think through. She can’t seem to focus on anything in particular.

Hange startles as the night’s silence is suddenly interrupted by a loud horn. She recognizes the sound of arriving ship that’s meant to take them home. Hange decides to come out and greet them.

Levi beside her stirs too, but she soothes him and lays him down on her sleeping bag. He mumbles protests, as she moves away, and Hange can’t resist the urge to ruffle his hair. She smiles, and before she can stop herself, she leans down to press a kiss on his forehead.

She starts heading towards the shore, but she isn’t even out of camp, when the sailors come to her themselves.

And they are led by none other than Zeke.

Hange wants to shout, to warn the others. But Floch’s palm that presses against her mouth prevents her from doing so.

He grins as he takes out a knife and puts it under her chin.

“Professor,” Zeke chides, as he shakes his head. “You wouldn’t want to ruin a surprise for your friends, would you?”

Hange wants to curse, to yell, to sneer at that man. She starts struggling, desperately trying to free herself, but Floch holds her tightly. And the more she moves, the tighter he presses a knife.

“Let her go.”

Hange recognizes that gruff voice instantly. She smiles victoriously.

Zeke brought nearly a dozen sailors with him, but Levi is fast. And strong. Even if he is injured, there is no way they can defeat him.

However, Zeke also doesn’t look defeated. He smiles that fucking condescending smile Hange hates so much, and takes a step towards Levi.

“Let her go.” Levi repeats in a low, dangerous voice.

The sailors around Hange shudder, as they look at him. The smile doesn’t disappear from Zeke’s face.

“Get down on your knees and raise your hands,” Zeke says. “Disobey, and your dear Professor,” he nods at Hange. “Will suffer the consequences.”

Levi looks up at her.

“No,” Hange mouths, desperate and helpless.

He can’t, he won’t.

Levi lowers his eyes. He gets on his knees.

Zeke cackles.

“Tie him up,” he orders his men. “And make sure to do it tightly. Floch, make sure that Professor won’t run away. She’ll serve as his main motivation.” Zeke smirks at her, full of confidence and smugness.

“Floch and I will finish this ourselves. You may ransack their camp, there bound to be some valuables,” he tells the sailors, waving his hand carelessly. “Kill her assistants, we won’t need them.”

“No!” Hange shouts, after she bites Floch’s palm. “No, don’t touch them, please!”

“As nice as it is to hear you beg, Professor, but,” Zeke spreads his hands. “We can’t leave witnesses.”

Hange closes her eyes, her heart clutching painfully. It’s her fault, all of it is her fault, and there is nothing she can do to stop this. She hopes that Moblit and Nifa will be fine, she hopes that they will survive.

She hopes they will be kind enough to forgive her.

Before tears spill on her cheeks, Floch pushes her forward, so roughly that she stumbles and nearly falls. “Let’s get going already.”

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell where we expect you to lead us,” Zeke says to Levi, as they start moving through the jungle. “And I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that if you take us somewhere else, we’ll–”

“I get it,” Levi cuts him off.

And looking at Levi’s head, bowed in defeat, she realizes – she can’t. She can’t let that happen, she can’t be the reason for the slaughter of dozens of animals she came here to study.

She can’t and she’s won’t.

She turns her head slightly – Floch doesn’t look at her, instead watching the trees they pass by.

This is her chance.

She raises her leg and kicks Floch as strongly as she can. He yelps and falls, and Hange wants to kick him again.

Zeke stops her.

He doesn’t even touch her, instead he cocks the hammer on his rifle. Hange turns around, instantly alarmed by that sound.

Zeke is aiming his rifle straight at Levi’s chest.

“I should have known you won’t go down without a fight,” the smile, that fucking smile, is finally gone. His gaze is hard and angry, as he looks at Hange.

He looks at Hange, and that’s why Levi has the time to lift his still bound arms and hit Zeke with his elbow. He directs the blow at his chest, and Zeke wheezes, as he doubles over. Levi doesn’t stop, hitting him in the head this time. Then he kicks Zeke’s legs and he falls to the ground.

In the meantime, Hange jumps on Floch’s knee. She hears a satisfying pop of his bones and his painful cry.

It makes her smile.

She’s looking for Zeke’s rifle, when Levi suddenly grabs her, pulling her away.

“We need to go, Hange, now!”

“B-but…” she wants, needs to kill them. To make sure they won’t harm anyone ever again.

To avenge Moblit and Nifa.

“Hange, let’s go,” Levi pulls her again. “They won’t survive long in the jungle, but, maybe, we can still help Moblit and Nifa.”

Her dear assistants. The ones, who has never turned away from her.

She lets Levi drag her away.

When they reach the camp, it is engulfed in flames. Hange wants to run, maybe, they are still alive, maybe, she can still save them. But Levi wraps his hands around her, keeping her in place.

“Let me go!” she screams, as she thrashes in his hold. “I need to save them, Levi, please!”

“No,” he whispers, as he tightens his arms around her, “There is no one left to save, Hange,” he presses his face into her hair, shuddering when he hears Hange’s quiet sobs.

She sinks to the ground and Levi kneels next to her, pressing her to his chest and softly patting her hair.

They sit there, embracing each other for a long minute. And then they hear a voice.

“I don’t know whether to be touched that you cry for us so,” a painfully familiar voice says, “or be offended that you’d think that we can be killed so easily.”

Hange looks up. It can’t be, she doesn’t believe it, but it is true.

Moblit and Nifa stand right next to her, both of them smiling.

Moblit and Nifa. Alive.

Hange shoots to her feet and embraces them tightly. “You, guys…” she desperately clings to them, overwhelmed with relief. “I thought I lost you.”

“You won’t get away from us that easily,” Nifa cheekily replies.

Hange’s laugh mixes with her sobs. She moves away from Moblit and Nifa, just enough so she can look at their faces and put a hand on their cheeks. “But how?” Hange wonders. “How you managed to survive?”

“We woke up when we heard the ship’s horn,” Moblit begins.

“And so we hid,” Nifa continues. “Thankfully, those sailors didn’t search for us too hard.”

“They took everything that looked valuable,” Moblit adds. “And set the camp on fire.”

“We wanted to follow after you, but then you came back,” Nifa smirks. “I was very touched by your tears, really.”

Hange huffs, rolling her eyes. She tries to glare at Nifa, but both of them just end up giggling.

“The bad thing is,” Moblit’s serious voice cuts through their fun. “The sailors are gone, and so is our chance on leaving this island.”

“Oh,” Hange furrows her eyebrows. That is a problem indeed.

“We can stay here,” Nifa suggests. “Maybe, some ship will be swimming by and it’ll take us home.”

It’s… a sound suggestion. Hange considers it.

She turns to Levi. “What do you think?”

He shrugs. “I can use this time to reconcile with my family.”

“And we can study the island more thoroughly,” Moblit adds with a small smile.

“Then it’s decided,” Hange breathes out, taking Levi by the hand. “We stay here.”

He intertwines their fingers and squeezes her palm. “Sounds like a plan.”

#i know that the ending is LAME #but this thing was getting ridiculously long #i even had to cut some scenes fdklsjdlgjslgkj #anyways hope you enjoy even that stupid ending #levihan #levihan fanfiction #levi x hange #levi x hanji #hange zoe #hanji Zoe #levi ackerman #levi aot #aot #snk fanfiction #snk fandom #Shingeki no Kyoijin

[timeless-hollywood-classics]

Grace Moore (December 5, 1898 – January 26, 1947) was an American operatic soprano and actress in musical theatre and film. She was nicknamed the "Tennessee Nightingale." Her films helped to popularize opera by bringing it to a larger audience. She was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actress for her performance in One Night of Love.

In 1947, Moore died in a plane crash at the age of 48. She published an autobiography in 1944 titled You're Only Human Once. In 1953, a film about her life was released titled So This Is Love starring Kathryn Grayson.

Moore was born Mary Willie Grace Moore, the daughter of Tessa Jane ( Stokely) and Richard Lawson Moore. She was born in the community of Slabtown (now considered part of Del Rio) in Cocke County, Tennessee. By the time she was two years old, her family had relocated to Knoxville, a move Moore later described as traumatic, as she found urban life distasteful at the time. After several years in Knoxville, the family again relocated to Jellico, Tennessee, where Moore spent her adolescence. After high school in Jellico, she studied briefly at Ward-Belmont College in Nashville before moving to Washington, D.C. and New York City to continue her musical training and begin her career. Her first paying job as a singer was at the Black Cat Cafe in Greenwich Village.

Grace Moore's first Broadway appearance was in 1920 in the musical Hitchy-Koo, by Jerome Kern. In 1922 and 1923 she appeared in the second and third of Irving Berlin's series of four Music Box Revues. In the 1923 edition she and John Steel introduced Berlin's song "What'll I Do". When Moore sang "An Orange Grove in California", orange blossom perfume was wafted through the theater.

In 1932 she appeared on Broadway in the short-lived operetta The DuBarry by Karl Millöcker.

After training in France, Moore made her operatic debut at the Metropolitan Opera in New York City on February 7, 1928, singing the role of Mimì in Giacomo Puccini's La bohème. She debuted at the Opéra-Comique in Paris on September 29, 1928 in the same role, which she also performed in a Royal Command Performance at Covent Garden in London on June 6, 1935. During her sixteen seasons with the Metropolitan Opera, she sang in several Italian and French operas as well as the title roles in Tosca, Manon, and Louise. Louise was her favorite opera and is widely considered to have been her greatest role.

In the 1930s and 1940s she gave concert performances throughout the United States and Europe, performing a repertoire of operatic selections and other songs in German, French, Italian, Spanish, and English. During World War II, she was active in the USO, entertaining American troops abroad. In 1945 she sang Mimi to Nino Martini's Rodolfo in La bohème for the inaugural performance of the San Antonio Grand Opera Festival.

She also performed during and after WWII in support of Allied Forces. From the personal memoire of Lt. Gen. John C. H. Lee, on 24 July 1945: "After an early dinner drove in convoy to the Paris Opera House for the gala performance entitled "Pacifique 45" given by the French for the benefit of the families of French war veterans. The program laid particular emphasis on the war in Japan and included the showing of two films - "Fighting Lady" and "Iwo Jima" and the rendition of several songs and the French and American national anthems by Grace Moore. Seated in the box of honor were General Alphonse Juin, the French Minister of Information Jacques Soustelle, and a number of important American and French officers. It seemed to be a great success and was particularly appreciated by the crowd of some 20,000 gathered in the square outside the Opera House."

Attracted to Hollywood in the early years of talking pictures, Moore had her first screen role as Jenny Lind in the 1930 film A Lady's Morals, produced for MGM by Irving Thalberg and directed by Sidney Franklin. Later that same year she starred with the Metropolitan Opera singer Lawrence Tibbett in New Moon, also produced by MGM, the first screen version of Sigmund Romberg's operetta The New Moon.

After a hiatus of several years, Moore returned to Hollywood under contract to Columbia Pictures, for whom she made six films. In the 1934 film One Night of Love, her first film for Columbia, she portrayed a small-town girl who aspires to sing opera. For that role she was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actress in 1935. She starred in 1936 as Empress Elisabeth of Austria in Josef von Sternberg's production The King Steps Out.

By this time, she was so popular that MGM was able to insist on equal billing for Moore in a projected film with Maurice Chevalier, who had always enjoyed solo star billing up until then. Chevalier felt so deeply about this blow to his status that he quit Hollywood and the film was never made.

A memorable highlight of When You're in Love (1937) was a comic scene in which Moore donned flannel shirt and trousers and joined a 5-man band for a flamboyant rendition of Cab Calloway's "Minnie the Moocher", complete with gestures and "hi-de-ho's", but with the lyrics slightly altered to conform with Hollywood sensibilities. Also, she performed the popular Madama Butterfly duet "Vogliatemi bene" with American tenor Frank Forest in the 1937 film I'll Take Romance.

The last film that Moore made was Louise (1939), an abridged version of Gustave Charpentier's opera of the same name, with spoken dialog in place of some of the original opera's music. The composer participated in the production, authorizing the cuts and changes to the libretto, coaching Moore, and advising director Abel Gance. This production also featured two renowned French singers: dramatic tenor Georges Thill and basse cantante André Pernet.

She was widely criticized in December 1938 when she curtsied to the Duchess of Windsor, in Cannes. Upon her return to the United States after six months and ten days in Europe ("to save money in income tax"), Moore defended her curtsy, saying:

She would have been a royal duchess long ago if she had not been an American. After all, she gave happiness and the courage of his convictions to one man, which is more than most women can do. She deserves a curtsy for that alone.

According to Joe Laurie Jr., vaudeville performer and historian, Grace Moore would not perform on vaudeville bills that had black performers.

In 1935 Moore received the gold medal award of the Society of Arts and Sciences for "conspicuous achievement in raising the standard of cinema entertainment." In 1936 King Christian X of Denmark awarded her his country's medal of 'Ingenito et Arti.' In 1937, she was commissioned as a colonel (an honorary position) on the staff of the governor of Tennessee, and was also made a life member of the Tennessee State Society of Washington, D.C. She was decorated as a chevalier of the French Légion d'honneur in 1939. Moore was also a member of the Peabody Awards Board of Jurors from 1940 to 1942.

Moore married Valentín Parera, a Spanish movie actor, in Cannes, on July 15, 1931. They had no children. During the 1930s they maintained homes in Hollywood, Cannes, and Connecticut.

Grace Moore died in a plane crash near Copenhagen's airport on January 26, 1947, at the age of 48. Among the other plane crash victims was Prince Gustaf Adolf of Sweden, who was at the time second in line to the Swedish throne and who was the father of the present King of Sweden, King Carl XVI Gustaf. Moore is buried in Forest Hills Cemetery in Chattanooga.

A collection of Moore's papers is housed at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville.

#grace moore #classic hollywood #classic movie stars #golden age of hollywood #old hollywood #1930s hollywood

[littlelionmay]

Merry ZR Christmas @northofnowhere4 ! Here is a playlist that is about half motivating running jams and half 5am-related angsty tunes (with a few happy ones in there for good measure, I'm not a monster). See below for the reasoning and/or headcannon behind each song. Hope you enjoy it, and maybe find some new favourites!

The Runner - Foals

This song is my ZR anthem. I always picture the Radio Cabel gang putting it on whenever they want to pay hommage to a runner and all the runners belting along to it.

Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up!) - Florence and The Machine

Everyone talk about Five like they're fearless, but I think they're always afraid, and always pushing through it for the sake of Abel and the people they love.

Dance Apocalyptic - Janelle Monae

Because there aren't enough happy apocalypse songs?

Help Me Stranger - The Raconteurs

This fits early episodes pretty well, especially the first one. Five had to put their life in Sam's hands without knowing him, and he definitely proved himself.

Guiding Light - Mumford and Sons

Look After You - Aaron Wright

Yellow Light - Of Monsters and Men

Getting into A Voice in The Dark territory, these songs have very different vibes but I feel like they fit the episode perfectly.

Atlas: Eight - Sleeping at Last

This song reminds me of Five's evolution in her relationship with Sam and Abel through S1 and beyond. Obviously the apocalypse is quite a bit trauma by itself, not to mention whatever they might have gone through before. Opening up and letting people in must have been a journey.

To Build a Home - The Cinematic Orchestra

Bring It On Home - American Authors

This is how Five would feel after that journey, at least on a hopeful day. Like they're working towards a purpose and doing it for the people they love.

Dirty Air - Two Door Cinema Club

Pure motivating tune. I always picture cool zombie fight scenes to that one.

Warriors - Imagine Dragons

This one reminds me of the end of S1, with the fight against New Canton and the chaos pre and post-rocket launcher.

Fort Knox - Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds

Will make you feel very cool. It works quite well with the first episode of S2, with all that jumping off roofs and other action film stunts.

Soldier At War - Ben Wiggins (Anna and The Apocalypse Soundtrack)

I had to stop myself from putting the whole soundtrack in there, but this one especially reminds me of Simon and the Whack-a-mole episode.

Survivor - 2WEI

Champion - Fall Out Boy

These are extremely motivating songs, and I always associate them with everything Five went through with Van Ark in S2.

Spanish Sahara - Foals

Because Five needs comfort sometimes, especially after a bout of torture.

Over The Hill - Wax//Wane

This one makes me especially emotional. The first time I listened to it, I immediately thought of Sam. This is exactly how he must feel all the time, and it's heartbreaking.

Wild Roses - Of Monsters and Men

A beautiful and slightly sad song that would go perfectly with an early 5am relationship and trying to have a bit of normalcy in a very abnormal world.

Go - The Black Keys

Just a motivating running tune to cut through the angst a little

Human - Of Monsters and Men

Works with any time everything feels like too much, but especially with Five having to fight against the mind control.

Where's My Love - SYML

Mind-control plotline from Sam's point of view. Hope you're craving angst, because this one breaks me every time.

Hugging You - Tom Rosenthal

To make up for all the sad feels and end on a nice note, here is a cute song that reminds me of 5am. Because they deserve to be happy (occasionally).

@runnerzero

#zombies run #zr #zr secret santa #zrs3 spoilers

[fallingstormphoenix]

“Pet-sitting”

    Pt 2 of my collab with @robinshouseofwhump! In this bit, Occuldous and Herc come to stay with Arron and Abel while Mistress is out of town.)

Mistress dropped Occuldous and Herc off one evening, gave Abel a quick peck on the cheek and left, saying she had to catch her flight. Herc was emotionless as usual, but Occuldous was in a panic. Mistress had been getting after him for very little mistake he made since the party and he was in pain and on edge. He was trying so hard to be still and quiet but he was trembling, and little pained whimpers escaped his lips. He knew Herc wouldn’t dare protect him against the angel in front of him, and his mind was in a tizzy imagining all the horribleness that the angel could use his strength to do to him. 

"Hey there buddy, you okay?" Abel grabbed Occuldous's shoulder gently and firmly, sending another wave of shuddering to overtake his body. "I'm happy you're here with me, you must've been hurt a lot after the party huh?" 

Silence. Occuldous just stared up at him with huge eyes. What did he want him to say? Did he want to talk about the pain? Did he want to know what pain Occuldous hated and feared the most, so he could use it against him?

"Well, Arron is super excited to see you, he's taking a nap right now, so you two can play when he wakes up alright?"

Occuldous nodded slowly. “Y-y-Yes s-Sir-r.” He said, his voice shaking just as bad as his body was.

"Hey Herc, right?" Abel stood up and pulled Occuldous closer, into a soft embrace. "Can I talk to you?"

Occuldous panicked at the embrace, his heart pounding, but he didn’t struggle or fuss.

Herc nodded. “Yes sir?” His voice was deep and raspy from disuse.

Abel looked down at Occuldous, who was still shaking like a leaf. "Go sit on the couch little one, can you do that for me?"

“Y-y-yess Sir!” He darted to the couch and sat down, ramrod straight and proper.

Abel turned to the taller man, who was quiet and stiff as a board. "Herc, you have permission to speak as much as you want. I don't care what you say, I won't tell her." Abel paused, thinking about what to say. "What can I do to help him?" Abel motioned to the Starwitch, who wasn't paying attention except to calm down his breathing.

Herc sighed. “I don’t know, Sir. He was like this went she bought him and is only getting worse .”

"Hmm, I'm sorry to hear that." Abel thought for a moment. "What can I do to help you then? I have a room just for you if you'd like. And you're welcome to the kitchen as much as you want too." Abel frowned to himself, they’re so… reserved, like they can't even do anything without thinking about the consequences. "You both aren't slaves in my house, ever." “Yes sir.” Herc nodded. “I am a little hungry… May I prepare something to eat? I will clean up everything.” He assured.

"Of course you can, help yourself Herc. I'm going to go help Occuldous calm down." Herc nodded and headed to the kitchen, his steps almost silent, impressive for a big man like him. Abel stared a little in aw, but then slowly walked to the couch, where the shaking teen let slip a few tears in absolute fear.

"Occuldous? You ok buddy? What can I do to help?" Abel let his words drip out like sweet honey, trying his best to calm the boy.

Occuldous looked up at him, trembling, eyes wide and wet, “I-I j-just w-want to b-be good sir… P-please s-show m-me h-how to b-be good?” He didn’t want to be punished, but he didn’t know the rules of this house, and he feared that he would break them.

"Oh little one, would you like to know what I want?" Abel raised an eyebrow, not in disgust, but in slight confusion and horror. What has she done to him? To Herc?

Occuldous nodded eagerly. “Y-yes sir! I-I w-want to be g-good for you!” Please, please don’t be angry… he begged mentally, please don’t drown me.

Abel took a deep breath, allowing his angelic form to recede in an attempt to look less threatening. The wings disappearing along with his thorned halo. Pause, then another deep breath, before Abel spoke. "I want you to sleep when you're tired. Eat when you're hungry. Play when you're bored. I want you to use magic as often as you would like."

Occuldous panicked. There was no way for Abel to know if he was following these new rules, and no way to know if he was breaking them. There would be no method to the punishments with these rules, he would never know what to expect. He’d never been allowed to choose when to eat, or sleep, or use magic. Mistress was the first master he’d had that let him play. He started keening and rocking back and forth frantically.

Abel sighed again, that didn't help. "I think it would be best if you took a nap with Arron, would you like that bud? You look tired." He nodded, relieved a little by the clear instruction. “Y-yes s-sir!” He was tired, he has so many nightmares that he barely slept anymore out of fear of them.

"Ok, let's get you to bed then." Abel gently lifted the boy by the armpits and gently carried him up the stairs of the penthouse. He could feel the pounding of the Starwitch’s heart through his fingertips, but Occuldous seemed to relax in his hold. Herc often carried him like this, it felt safe and gentle.

"Do I need to treat any wounds little one? Any bruises or open cuts?" Abel looked at the boy, who was now practically melting under his touch, much like Arron.

Occuldous’ eyes went big and worried but he nodded. He wasn’t sure what he would do as “treatment” but he absolutely wouldn’t lie to a master.

"Ok, I'll take you to the bathroom for a second then. Is that alright little one?" He felt the shudder run up Occuldous’ body and tears came to his eyes but still he nodded. “Y-yes sir.”

Abel smiled and brought him into the large washroom, sitting him on the toilet seat gently and opening the nearby medicine cabinet. Soon, after a bit of rummaging, he pulled out a first aid kit. "You're doing amazing bud."

Occuldous just stared at the tub, his breathing fast and shallow. In his mind, he could hear the faucet rushing, see the tub filling, feel the water covering his face, feel the burning of his lungs as he couldn’t breathe. And before he could do anything, he blacked out, tipping forwards like a broken doll. He could feel his body be held, but not much else. It felt dark, it was comforting. Just dark, no pain, burning, or hurting.

-

The Starwitch felt himself laying in something soft, felt something thick and heavy wrapped around his body. It felt good, he felt safe. That was such an odd feeling to him, safety… He couldn’t remember when he’d last felt like that. His hair was wet, but everything else was dry. He felt a presence laying next to him, they were probably asleep though. Should he go back to sleep? Its what the angel wanted. But he wasn't tired anymore, and the angel told him to only sleep when he was tired. He laid still with his eyes closed as he tried to think what he should do next. He really didn’t want to move. His torso was covered in burns and bruises and ached so badly. The soles of his feet hurt too, from when Mistress had caned them for not obeying fast enough. Laying here made everything hurt less, even if it was just for a little bit.

"O-Occoldis?" The presence muttered softly. It wasn't the angel, but it was familiar. So they weren't asleep, he knew as the bed shifted around him.

“Y-yes?” Occuldous whimpered worriedly, opening his eyes slowly.

"I umm… I missed you. Do you wanna play? A-Are you ok?" The voice said still soft.

“Arr-rron?�� Occuldous rolled over slowly, his eyes brightened when he saw his friend. Arron could show him the rules here! Then he could be good and this master would give him pets and treats too. “I-I’m ok.”

The smile that crept up Arron's face helped calm him more. "M-Master says he has dinner ready soon. D-do you wanna go with me?" Arron shifted and knelt up, looking at his new friend with anticipation.

“Did Master say I may?” He asked, sitting up with a soft whimper.

"Mmhm, he said if you wanna eat, but you can stay here if you're still sleepy."

Occuldous thought. Master had said to eat when he’s hungry. He is hungry. He’s always hungry. But was master trying to trick him? Mistress only fed him tidbits from her plate, or treats for learning a new trick. Maybe this master wanted to see if he behaved or if he was greedy and wanted too much food. He looked up at Arron. “D-does Master want you to eat?”

"Only if I'm hungry, and I'm hungry right now." The demon smiled softly and jumped a little on the bed before hopping off with a smile. "Come?"

Occuldous got up carefully standing up. He keened painfully as his feet touched the ground, he wasn’t afraid to show his pain around other servants like him. It made it easier when he had to hide it around the masters.

"Are you ok?" Arron frowned

“I was bad.” He stated as if that excused his pain. He had deserved it, he hasn’t moved fast enough to obey Mistress, she’d warned him lots of times and he still didn’t obey fast enough.

"When I'm bad, Master puts me to bed a lot." Arron looked at him with worry. "I don't like your Mistress…"

He looked cautious when Arron mentioned being put to bed as a punishment. He’d heard other servants talk of something like that and it sounds very bad. But Occuldous eyes went very big when Arron said something about Mistress. “Mistress is nice and gives pets and treats! She only punishes me when I’m bad. First Master hurt me when I was good too, Mistress is lots nicer. I like Mistress.”

"But she hurts you a lot… she's scary."

Occuldous shook his head. “I’m bad lots. Mistress is making me good. She gives me treats when I’m good and pets me.”

"Arron! Occuldous!" The angel hollered from downstairs. "Are you two hungry?"

Occuldous squeaked at the shout, the trembling starting again. “C-coming Sir!” He ran downstairs as fast as he could, and as soon as he got down, he knelt in front of Abel, looking up at him. “Y-Yes sir? I-I’m s-s-sorry I-i-i took s-so l-long!”

"Don't be sorry little one, I just wanted to know if you were hungry is all." Abel held his hand down to him. "Come on, I don't want you to kneel for me."

He scrambled to his feet, swallowing the whimper that rose up in his throat. “Y-Yes s-Sir. S-sorry.”

"Come sit at the table, you can sit next to me if you'd like, or Arron, or Herc." Abel motioned to the large table and smiled. "I'm almost done cooking, do you like hamburgers?"

His eyes went wide. “S-Sir?” Sit at the table? He’d never been allowed to do that.

Abel gently put the spatula down on the counter, and tipped the boy's chin up slowly and softly. "Occuldous, did you happen to hear what I told Herc this morning?"

Occuldous lifted his chin immediately and eyed Herc, who was carefully setting the table. He hadn’t heard, he’d been too worked up. “N-no sir, s-sorry I-I wasn’t listening.”

"That's ok. Would you like to know what I told him little one?" Abel cupped his cheek and rubbed a thumb along his freckles, causing him to calm down a little as he leaned into the hand.

He melted into the gentle touch. “Y-Yes sir.” He was being good, Master was petting him so he was being good. The panic dulled to a normal background fear that he always had.

"Under everyone else's house, you are a slave. Under my house, you are a person. You are worth just as much as I am. I will never, ever hurt you, even if you disobey me. You are allowed to do as much as you'd like. Do you understand little one?"

He shook his head. “No sir.” He hummed a little, enjoying the gentle touch. His hand was so warm, it felt so good.

"Hmm, have you ever seen me hurt Arron? Or punished him with violence?" Just as Abel said that, Arron padded behind them and quietly sat at the table. "Or told him that he isn't a person?"

He shook his head again. “But… sir, Arron is good… he doesn’t be bad…” he’d never seen Arron disobey Abel, or break a rule.

A sigh, from Abel. He thought for a moment, then pulled him into a hug. "I don't think you're bad, never ever kiddo. You're a very good boy, just like Arron."

He whimpered softly when his arms touched the bruises, but his heart filled with joy and he didn’t care about the pain. He was a good boy and this master was happy with him. He would treat him good like Arron and he would do his best to keep being good so this master would stay happy with him and pet him and do gentle things with him.

"Now go sit at the table, you can choose whichever seat you'd like to sit at." Abel smiled and let go, before putting the scratch burgers and homemade fries on each of the 4 plates. He sat down at the end of the table after filling all the glasses with a dark liquid that bubbled and fizzed.

Occuldous sat between Herc and Arron, waiting for Abel to start eating first. Herc sat down too, slowly and with uncertainly like Occuldous. He hadn’t been allowed to sit at a table in so many years, it felt unnatural. But he didn’t fuss like Occuldous, he just accepted whatever came his way, good or bad.

The angel uttered a few words to himself as he closed his eyes, before sitting back up. "Let's eat!" Abel smiled and picked the large burger up with his hands, before munching down on it slowly. Arron did the same with a smile as he ate his burger almost in tandem with his master.

Occuldous followed his lead in eating the burger first. Herc carefully cuts up his burger with a knife and ate the pieces with a fork. He does the same to the fries.

Occuldous takes a careful sip of the soda and set it down quickly, surprised by the bubbles. “It bites!” He said, startled.

"Mmhm, it tastes good huh?" Abel lets out a slight chuckle at the boy. He's gonna be trying a lot of new things this week.

He took another sip and nodded. “I like it. Thank you Master!”

"Of course little one." Abel smiled, he saw an actual smile on Occuldous' face today. "Do you like it Herc? I have something else you might like if you don't." Arron meanwhile was practically inhaling the burger, his Master's cooking was soooo good. Even better than Papa's.

Herc nodded. “Thank you sir.” He said, finishing off the burger. “Your cooking is excellent.” Occuldous only managed to eat half the burger and a little soda before he was stuffed. His body wasn’t used to all this food at once.

"All full little one?" Abel smiled as Occuldous finished eating. "Do you have room for dessert?"

Occuldous nodded. “Yes sir.”

Herc shook his head. “No sir, he’s doesn’t. He’s going to get sick from eating too much.”  Herc‘s voice was dull and sad, like he expected something bad for talking back.

"Hmm, ok." Abel stood up and put his plate in the sink. "It still isn't too late, so would you boys like to go to the park?"

Occuldous tilted his head. “Park?” He questioned. Herc got up and started to clear the other plates.

"Mmhm! Master lets me play with my magic all the time at the park!" Arron got really excited and stood up. "We can play with magic together!"

Occuldous swallowed nervously, glancing at Master out the corner of his eye.

"Would you like that bud? We can stay here and watch a movie instead, if you'd like." Abel smiled warmly. "Whatever you want."

“M-mistress won’t like I-if I d-do m-magic outside…” he whimpered, remembered when he’d accidentally let loose a little fire ball outside in surprise. “M-movie is-s saf-fer.”

Herc nodded. “You don’t want to forget your training so that mistress has to retrain you, do you?” He asked pointedly.

Occuldous shook his head quickly. “N-no. S-sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry, I just don’t want to watch you be hurt.” Herc said gently. He put the plates in the sink and came over to Occuldous. He gently picked him up and held him close.

Abel smiled. "Ok, movie it is." Herc was so gentle with him, at least someone was there for Occuldous when he needed him. "Arron, how about you pick for us? And no Steven Universe tonight, we need a movie, not a show."

"O-ok Master," Arron sighed and took the remote, what other things can he watch that's better than that?

“I used to like a movie called “Oliver and Company.”” Herc offered, sitting on the ground with Occuldous in his lap, curled up happily. Abel caught a glimpse of the bruises and scabs on the bottoms of Occuldous’ feet, he hadn’t expected wounds there so he hadn’t checked earlier.

"What's it about?" Arron looked up with interest.

“A little stray cat and the dogs who adopt him.” Herc smiled, remembering the story fondly.

"I'm fine with that, put that on Arron." Abel smiled.

The movie started out sad, with the kitten’s siblings all being adopted to good homes, and him being left out in a storm, then chased by street dogs. Eventually he’s adopted by a care-free dog and his little band of other care-free dogs and their homeless owner who is clumsy and kind.

Occuldous tried to stay awake to watch the movie but ended up falling asleep a few minutes in. Herc gently put him on the couch and went to clean the kitchen.  Herc worked silently and efficiently, leaving everything spotless and shiny. “Sir, the kitchen is clean. May I take a short nap? I will finish cleaning when I wake up.” Herc asked, looking at the ground respectfully.

"Oh! You didn't have to do that Herc, but thank you so much! Of course you can sleep, you're welcome to do whatever you'd like." Abel smiled, Herc has gone above and beyond to help out, even if he didn't ask for it.

"I think its bedtime for you too Arron." The angel looked down at the demon curled up in his arms. "Go brush your teeth ok? And get your jammies on."

"O-ok sir," Arron rubbed his eyes sleepily and slowly got up to go do as he was asked.

“Thank you sir. Where may I sleep?” Herc asked. He glanced at Occuldous. “I’ll carry him to bed as well sir.”

"Second room on the right Herc, and I'll take him if thats ok with you?"

Herc nodded. “Yes sir, thank you.” He turned on his heel and headed up to his room. He curled up in the corner to sleep. It was odd to see someone so big manage to make themselves so small.

Abel carried Occuldous to Arron's bed, tucking him in and laying the weighted blanket over him before turning to Herc's room. "Herc, sleep in the bed, that's what it's for." He laughed a bit at the sight of the tightly curled up giant. "You have just as many privileges as I do here."

“Sir, I… I don’t want to get used to it,” Herc said quietly. “It will make it harder when I go back. Same for Occuldous. If he forgets his training, everything will only be worse for him.”

Abel thought for a moment. "You have a point, but I don't want you to feel like its forever. You'll get out of this soon, I know it." “Sir, I tried to escape once. When I was 20.” He looked up at him. “I didn’t get that collar taken off until it started to grow into my skin. I don’t want Occuldous to experience that. I don’t want to experience that again. Mistress is fair and kind as Masters go. We have clear rules, and Mistress never punishes on a whim.”

"You think it would be best if I gave Occuldous more rules? Or no?" Abel frowned, he really didn't want to be strict with them or hurt them in any way. "I really don't want to cause harm, like your Mistress does."

Herc nodded. “He would feel safer with more concrete rules. I was wild-caught, he was bred as a pet, he doesn’t know anything besides what his masters tell him. He didn’t know how to play when Mistress got him.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “I know you’re not really a master. You don’t act like any of them, and Arron doesn’t act like a pet. But at least for Occuldous’ sake, try to act more like a Master. I can be aware of making sure I don’t get too comfortable while I’m here. He won’t be. He’ll get too comfortable and sleep without Mistress’ permission, or he’ll start asking for food or something…” Herc rubbed his temples. “I… I-I don’t want to have to hold him for Mistress to drown or beat or brand again…” His voice caught in his throat painfully, this was the most words he’d spoken in months, maybe years. “Please, please don’t make Mistress have to retrain him.”

"Hey hey hey, its fine Herc. I'll make sure she won't have to if it keeps him safe." Abel sit down next to the giant. Herc sighed quietly. “Thank you sir.” He whispered. “I-i… I just can’t do that to him anymore…” He looked at his hands, tears welling in his eyes, “I hate it… I hate that I’m not strong enough to fix it.” He sighed. “If only I was stronger…”

"You are strong, you just can't bear the thought of hurting him. I can't either." Abel began. "What do you have in mind for rules?" He shrugged. “I-I don’t know sir. Ask to sit on the couch, obey commands immediately, simple things… Mistress’ rules aren’t too hard… Pets are silent unless asked to speak,Don’t ask for things, Obey commands immediately and cheerfully, Follow a command until told otherwise, Don’t beg, Take punishments peacefully, Furniture is not for pets…” He recited. “Occuldous isn’t very good at following rule five, but he really tries with everything else.”

"Rule 5 sounds hard to follow, I don't blame him." Abel sighed. "What about punishments? I don't want to hurt him like your mistress does." “He’ll punish himself if you tell him to…” Herc mumbled. “I don’t know, do people still swat school children’s knuckles with rulers?” An involuntary shudder run up Abel’s spine at the idea of whacking Occuldous’s mangled hands with a ruler.

"No, they don't." Abel frowned. "I usually put Arron to bed if he's bad, that's the extent of it." Herc’s eyes went big, the biggest display of emotion he’d gotten out of him so far. “No! Don’t tell him that!” He said quickly. “Most pets would hear that and think it means... other things.” He shuddered. “We know a lot of… pets that are for that. Lots of Mistress’ friends have them.”

"Oh god, that's awful. I didn't mean it like that." Abel looked horrified, his gut lurching at the thought. "Early bedtime, and maybe a paddling?" He nodded. “Maybe refuse to pet him? He loves being pet.”

"Ok, I think that's fair, thank you Herc, for helping me help him. And helping you." He nodded. “Thank you for being kind. And listening.” (tagging @imagination1reality0 @whumping-every-day @0idril0 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @quirkykayleetam @whumptywhumpdump)

#meet occuldous #arron and abel #crossover #whump blog #whump trope #whump prompt #whump scenario #whump community #whump art #whumpers #caretaking #caretaker

[foxydivaxx]

Abel and Cain Chapter 4

I owe you all this chapter so here we go.

Iblis and Beelzebub snicker as they walk down the hallway of the dorm. They had just finished terrorizing some of the students there and it was so much fun. Although Beelzebub can be a bit of a blubbering idiot, he can be competent when they] get down to business. “Hehe. That was pretty refreshing ya know? Seeing their faces.” Says Iblis with a sadistic smirk in place. 

“Is that so?” 

The two Demon Kings stopped in their tracks. The last thing they wanted was to bump into their older brother Samael or any of the other Demon Kings. But alas, the Demon King of Time was right behind them with their three brothers. 

“What are you doing here?!” Iblis snarled. Mephisto folds his arms. “Same question we ought to ask you given your meddling.” He says in a stern tone. Beelzebub cowers in fear. Shit. I hope he does not know the truth!!

“H-Hey….d-don’t ya think you are taking things outta context?” says Beelzebub in his usual cowardly manner. Amaimon glares at him. “Those wounds inflicted on Kirigakure….surely that can’t be any of our minions or familiars. Those seem to be your handiwork. Or are we lying?” Astaroth says as he scrutinizes his brothers. Wherever those two bumbling idiots go, there is always some form of mischief involved.

“Tch!! What’s the big deal over that anyways?” says Iblis. “To you, it may not be a big deal but you do know that I am the Headmaster of this school and if anything happens to the staff, I would be the first suspect due to my demonic heritage.” Says Mephisto as he squints at his brothers who simply keep quiet.

“Ah Mr. Pheles, fancy seeing….” Yukio stops in his tracks as soon as he sees Mephisto and their other brothers. He figured that sooner or later the Headmaster would figure out their wicked game. However, he can still manipulate things for a while until the jig is up. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, using his acting skills to feign innocence despite being the one that brought the duo there.

Mephisto simply shakes his head with a fake smile in place. He had always been suspicious of Yukio for a while and would need to keep a close watch on the boy just to see what mischief he gets up to. That is if his theory on the boy turns out to be true.

“Oh just saw these two miscreants here and was having a chat is all.” He said. Yukio nods. “Ah well if you excuse me, I have a couple of errands to run.” With that, he walks off. Once Yukio was out of earshot, Mephisto then turns to his brothers. “You both better leave these premises or else..” With that, he and the other two Demon Kings walk off.

“That was close.” Says Iblis, heaving with a sigh of relief. “You both were not smart.” They whip around in shock to see Yukio standing there, arms folded. “B-But you said you had errands to run…” says Beelzebub, earning a knock in the head from Iblis. Yukio simply rolls his eyes. “I am shocked that Mephisto did not see through my deception or magic. So-Called King of Time manipulation.” He says. He then smirks. “But no matter. This will make our game even more fun…”

Meanwhile, Rin, Paku and Izumo were in the limo on their way to Mephisto’s mansion. “So what next Rin?” Paku asked. Rin raises an eyebrow. “You mean like whether I would continue with Exorcist stuff right?” Paku nods. Izumo leans forward, waiting for his reply.

Rin then sighs. “To be honest with you. Even I don’t know. Part of me wants to continue and another part of me wants to take a different path. The question now is which path.” 

“Do not rush yourself. You will figure it out eventually.” Says Izumo. Rin then smiles softly. “You know Izumo. I prefer people like you because at least you are honest about shit unlike the other pussies in that class.”

Izumo chuckles. “Me? Oh, come on. Sometimes it isn’t nice to be brutally honest.” She says. “But sometimes it is necessary.” Says Paku. 

“Depends on some people. Back then, I used to think that it was better to be nice but now I learned the hard way that niceness does not help anyone. One needs a thick skin to survive in this world.” Says Rin. 

Izumo then turns to him. “Heard that you had a rough childhood.” Rin nods. “Yeah. Was called a demon even before finding out that I was one.” Izumo then looks down. “I can relate since I got bullied as a child not just because of my eyebrows. But also because I was able to see spirits from a young age. Curse of being a descendant of shrine maidens.”

Rin then looks at her, a sad expression on his face. No wonder she is often a bitch to others. I guessed as much. “I understand that feeling well. This world is so cruel at times. No matter what good one does, people would shit on your efforts like there’s no tomorrow.”

As soon as he says those words, Mephisto and the other Demon Kings arrive. “So anything?” Rin asked. “Nothing yet though we still have our suspects who so happen to be the other Demon Kings.” Says Astaroth. “Except Lucifer. Lucifer has his own separate agenda but Iblis and Beelzebub like to mess around at times so they are the main suspects.”

“But why Mrs Kirigakure?” says Paku. “There is no way those two would attack her unless….someone who hates her struck a deal with them.” Says Izumo. “Someone like Yukio.” The others stare at him. “Why do you think it is your brother?” Izumo asked.

Rin lets out a mirthless laugh. “I know that fool like the back of my head. You see, the two of us have always been rivals right from day one and always tried to upstage each other. My biggest mistake was ever showing that boy mercy. Now, I am no longer the merciful Rin that I used to be.”

A devilish smirk appears on the older Okumura twin’s face, something that scares the girls a bit. “I miss being the bad boy that I once was.” He then begins pacing around. “Now we agreed to not attend the funeral. However, there is only way to truly confirm my suspicions about Yukio and his possible meddling and I believe you can help me here Mephisto.”

Mephisto raises an eyebrow. “How so?” Rin’s smirk broadens. “Oh it’s that simple but Izumo and Paku might not like what I am about to suggest…”

Weeks later, Shura’s funeral is held at True Cross Academy and Rin, Izumo and Paku kept their word and chose not to attend the funeral, a move that did not sit down well with the other Exwires. “So he actually made good on his promise, that good for nothing bastard!!” Bon yells angrily. A couple Exorcists glare angrily at them. “Hey keep it down. We are at a funeral. No need to act disrespectful.” Konekomaru warns him. Shiemi meanwhile keeps on sobbing. Yukio who was next to her, holds her close and pretends to comfort her.

Hmmmph….the foolish girl. She would be the perfect pawn for my game. Just need the right opportunity.

Mephisto attended and keeps a close eye on Yukio. So far, nothing out of the ordinary unless said boy was just being very cautious and if he is, then he is truly smarter than they would give him credit for. But probably not as smart as Rin actually is when he decides to drop the sweet act and actually shows his true colours.

Will have to check in on that boy later.

Once the funeral was over, Shiemi prepares to take her leave when Yukio calls out to her. “Ah Yuki.” She says in a soft tone, a sad smile on her face. Yukio plasters his signature friendly smile. “Say, mind coming over to my house for some tea? You look like you could do with some company.” He says. “O-Oh…yeah sure.” She stutters as she runs over to him and follows him to the dorm.

Meanwhile in Gehenna, Rin and Mephisto arrive in Hell. Satan who was seated on his black throne stares at them in amusement. “Oooh…..what’s this? You brought Rin here?” Mephisto smirks. “Actually Father, Rin wishes to speak to you.”

“Really? What a change in character.” The King of Gehenna says as he carefully watches his son. He is aware of the animosity between the twins and the chaos that unfolded following Rin’s heritage getting exposed. What baffles him was how Rin bore the brunt of the hate and Yukio never once got heat for that.

Rin steps forward, all the demons staring at the boy cautiously in order to see what the boy would do next. The boy stops in front of his father’s throne. “How much do you know about Yukio?”

Satan then nods. Of course, the child would ask him that and he deserves to know. “Enough to know that he is a menace to all.” He then raises from his seat, his imposing height looming over his son’s. “I am aware of the nefarious activities of that boy alongside Iblis and Beelzebub.”

“Just as I suspected.” Says Mephisto. Rin simply glares at his father. “I thought that the fool came to you for powers.” Satan scoffs at that. “Him? Come to me? Bah!! That boy already had powers ever since he was a baby and had always been good at deception right from birth. He had been manipulating not just you but also your earthly father too.”

As soon as Rin heard this, he clenched his fist. This is what happens when you become too trusting of others and allow them to manipulate you. “That bastard will pay for this!!” Satan raises an eyebrow. “And what do you intend to do son? That boy might turn True Cross into an actual army and wage a war against us at Gehenna.”

Rin simply smirks. “Simple. We fight fire for fire and also prepare ourselves should he be planning what I believe it is he could be planning.”

This chapter was a lot harder to write than I thought.

#blue exorcist #ao no exorcist #fanfiction #rin okumura #shiemi moriyama #izumo kamiki #yukio okumura #bon suguro #shima renzou #konekomaru miwa #mephisto pheles #amaimon #astaroth #beelzebub

[imaginesmai]

Juice-Angst Alphabet (request)

This was requested by an anon, I hope you liked it! I have a request from a different anon (I guess) that it’s about Robb with an angst alphabet. You sent me a lot of characters to choose. I can’t write it until I know you’re okay with rape and pregancy problems; please, if you read this, message me with your answer, thank you!

Warnings:

There are a lot of them, because it’s an angst alphabet, so everything is sad. Please, read carefully the tittle of each letter and avoid things that may be triggering for you

Alcohol (do they drink too much?)

Even if Juice doesn’t like to drink a lot, sometimes he’s forced to. Before the club, he didn’t drink any alcohol. But when he became a prospect and then a member of SAMCRO, he started to drink.

For you, it’s not a bad thing. I mean, he does get drunk a lot of times. His tolerance for alcohol is very low, and usually is the first one to call it a night when all the guys go out together. A drunk Juice is a too-happy Juice. You’ve seen him cry because of the turtle you have in a box, because it deserved to be freed. Also, he is happy that he’s with you. Juice can spend a few hours crying in your chest because you’re the best thing in his life. It can be cute and perfect, but when it’s four a.m. and he can’t stop sobbing about how amazing your cooking skills are, it gets a little tiring.

You’re lucky because Juice is very loyal when he drinks; so loyal, that sometimes you can’t even touch him because he has a girlfriend.

The only bad thing is that sometimes the guys make him drink too much; and he ends up in the hospital or in your bed, laying half-conscious. Drink with conscience, guys.

Baby (you’re pregnant and something happens)

Juice and you had a fight the night before. It was something stupid, but with your pregnancy’s hormones and his job’s stress it was common those nights. You wanted to go away for the weekend, somewhere that you could relax and enjoy the first months of your pregnancy without SAMCRO in between. He thought that it was an important month for the club, so he should stay there until all business was finished.

You walked out angry and frustrated, already calling Tara and asking her if you could stay in her house. Juice stayed in your house, and by the time the sun raised, he was still sitting in the couch; what a whole speech for you and a planned holidays for the weekend. His plans were frustrated when he picked the phone the second time it rang. He was trying to pack all your clothes in a bag while he decided what he was taking; at the other side of the phone, an agitated Jax told him that he needed to change the destiny. Instead of going to the cabin, he was going to the hospital.

The doctor told him that it might be a consequence of too much stress, but they weren’t sure. You were connected to a lot of machines, with a white gown and clean sheets. Because the previous one were already stained with blood. Juice tried to be strong the first time he entered your room, but as soon as he saw your pale face he broke down.

His brothers had to hold him down as big sobs shook his body. It was his fault, it was his damn fault for being so selfish, that was what his mind screamed. If only he had agreed. If only he had been a better boyfriend. If only.

Catcall (you’re catcalled and he’s with you)

You were in a shop when it happened. He had just left you a second to go to see something for himself; and when he came back, the first thing he saw was your blushed face and your wide eyes. Then, he heard him.

“Wouldn’t you look pretty on your knees, with my dick on your mouth”

Maybe Juice doesn’t give the “though guy first impression”, but the vest on his shoulders have a reputation. He walked towards the guy with a serious expression and a frown on his face, but he didn’t stop paying attention to you. Trying to stop him would have been a stupid idea; the only thing you would have achieved was attaching unnecessary attention, so you lowered your head and walked towards them too.

Juice tried to talk to the guy; what he had done wasn’t right and he should apologise to you. Making a girl uncomfortable was something bad, but that guy didn’t catch it. When he looked at you behind Juice one more time, he lost it. Again, he said that making a girl uncomfortable was something bad; except that this time he had a gun pressed against his forehead.

Die (their reaction when you die/your reation when they die)

This is longer so I will only make his reaction when you die; if you have seen the show, you will understand why I don’t have the heart to make the second part.

You died in a shooting. It was a surprise for the club; usually, when there’re going to be problems they take care of them away from Charming. They meet with the rival gang in a clearing when no one innocent can get hurt. But that time the gang was really angry with the sons, and while you all were chilling in the club, they entered with big guns. It was a bloody mess; a lot of good men died and got hurt, even some children. Juice had put you under his body as soon as the first shot sounded; but it was already too late, because that bullet was aiming for him and hit you right on your chest when he moved you. He waited a few minutes until he was sure they had left; then, he got up and offered you his hand. Juice was saying something to Jax and making sure everyone was fine when he noticed that you weren’t taking his hand. And then, he looked at you for the first time. You had blood all over your shirt, your eyes were lost but he could still see the last glint of fear; and your mouth was open as if you were trying to say his name one last time.

Everyone knew you were dead as soon as they saw you, yet Juice had the hope you would wake up. The days after your death are a blur; he drinks until he’s unconscious, then wake up and drinks again. Those times when he’s conscious, he searches for the guys who killed you. And when he finds them, he’s not the sweet Juice anymore; even Happy is impressed with his work. Life with you is dull, meaningless. He tries to go on, for the club, for his brothers and for your memory. But two years after your death, it’s Gemma who finds him in a puddle of his own blood and vomit, with letter and a canister of pills.

Emotion (what do they keep to themselves)

Juice is a pretty open guy about anything with you. When he’s in the club, he has to keep his emotions down, as it can be dangerous and even lethal in some situation. Usually he doesn’t succeed; but he tries to keep a tough act in front of the guys.

When he comes home, he likes to sit with you in the couch or in bed, or even in the kitchen table as you both prepare dinner, and tell you about his day. He has discovered that talking about what he likes and what he doesn’t makes him feel better; so Juice tells you what has made him happy and sad. It’s kind of a therapy.

Juice deals with a lot inside of his head, with depression and anxiety. At the end of the day, when you’re ready to sleep, you help him to see something good about that day. Something that has made him laugh or smile, even if it’s just a puppy. He doesn’t keep emotions to himself because you know it would be the end of him; so you’re more than happy to help him take them out.

Frustrated (how do they act in a fight?)

Juice and you don’t fight too much. You’re both reasonable people who know how to speak things. If you have a disagreement, you sit on the couch and talk about it, until you both come out with a solution.

If you can’t, then you have what it’s called “a time out”. Juice usually is the one calling a time out, which means that you get separated until you cool off. Loosing his nerves never bring good things, so he prefers to stay in your room for a while and think about it before starting a never-ending argument.

Grounded (your daughter/son tells him they hate him after a fight)

“I wish I had a different family!”

It was a family night with all the club, and Abel, Jax’s son, was going. He and your daughter had been fooling around for a while, and she wanted to sleep in his house that night. You tried to talk to her, arguing that it would be better other day; it was Sunday and the next day she would need to go to school. Juice even promised that Abel could stay on Friday’s night, but being the moody teenager she was, your daughter got angry and screamed that.

Everything seemed to stop in that moment; she stood there, with wide eyes and her hands on her mouth. You sighed, kind of upset she said that but knowing she didn’t mean it. But Juice blinked a few times to avoid the tears and left the house. Your daughter and you listened to his motorbike as he rode away, and that’s when she started to cry.

That night Juice didn’t come home; you called Clay and checked that he was safe with him, so you stayed with your crying daughter who didn’t sleep thinking of his father. When morning came by, Juice appeared at the door and found you sleeping in the same place you were last night; in the couch next to the door. Your daughter was sitting on the floor besides it, tears dry on her cheek. The sound of the door closing made her wake up, and she spent the whole morning clinging from her father’s chest like a monkey, apologising a thousand times.

Humiliation (someone says something humiliating about you in front of them)

“You’re disgusting, Y/N. A disgrace to our family.”

Your brother, David Hale, had just come to the garage to check up on you; only to find you naked in the bed of Juice. He hated SAMCRO, hated the sons and hated you for screwing with the scum of Charming. You stood there, with your mouth wide open while tears filled your eyes.

As soon as the words left your brother’s lips, he regretted it. Tried to apologise to you, but Juice stood in the way, blocking you. With hard eyes, he told him that it would be better if he just left; what he really meant, was that he was giving your brother an option of leaving before taking him out himself.

That night, Juice held you close to his chest while you cried. He enlisted all the good things about you, all the things he loved and why he was with you. Juice might not be the most aggressive man in SAMCRO, but he sure is the most affectionate.

Injury (how do they react when you’re hurt?)

Let the part of freaking out to Juice. Is that a paper cut? Juice brings the first aid kit. A sprained ankle? Your boyfriend carries you around all week. He can overreact a little when it comes to little injuries, because he is afraid of loosing you.

If it’s a big injury, he will be the first one by your side. Given his like of work, it’s a little strange that he’s grossed out by blood. Well, not any blood, just yours. Seeing you bleed makes his heart clench so hard that it physically hurts him, but he tries to be as close as you as he can. If there is no one around to take care of your injury, Juice doesn’t hesitate into taking care of it; it it’s between his comfort of your safety, he doesn’t matter at all.

Joyless (something that makes them sad)

Well, there are a lot of things that make Juice sad. For example, when you two can’t solve properly a fight; if you don’t get a solution to your argument in a short time, usually his anger fades into sadness. Because he hates to imagine a life without you. Also, it makes him sad when you think less of yourself. Sometimes, you can feel insecure because of all those croweaters that are always around him, or because the life you can offer him is not as adventurous as the one that the club gives him. When he hears this thoughts, he gets really upset; because he thinks it’s his fault.

Juice will be happy as long as you are too.

Kidnapped (you’re kidnapped) + XX (sexual assault)

I’ve decided to make this two together. Please, be careful with reading this part, because it may be triggering. It talks openly about rape.

Loss (their greatest lost)

As strange as it is, Juice greatest lost came with the best choice in his life. When he became a prospect for SAMCRO, he was the happiest man alive, surrounded by croweaters, alcohol and motorbiked. He didn’t think about that decision much, until he knew you. A sweet, caring girl who was still in the good side of the law. Long short story, he made you fall in your with him and you discovered that he wasn’t as bad as everyone thought. But you were a Hale, the sister of the deputy, and your relationship was complicated.

That was when Juice started to think how things would have been if he was out of the club. He would have a normal life with you, a good relationship with your brother and you would be out of danger. So, Juice greatest lost is the chance of having a normal life with you, that he lost when he put on the sons’ vest.

Mistakes (make up after a fight)

It has been said before; you rarely fight. And when you do, you always speak things out instead of raising you voice. When Juice feels like he might lose his temper, he sits in the couch, takes a deep breath and calms down for a while.

Nothing (you lose everything, your house, your car… how do they react?)

Juice was in his apartment when he heard you knocking on the door. He was happy, because he thought that his beautiful girlfriend was coming to see him. But when he opened the door, he found you with tears in your eyes and a little suitcase beside you. The Bank had taken away your house, since you couldn’t pay your last month of rent. You should have told him earlier, but you didn’t want to bother him; until it was too late.

He welcomed you with open arms, and let you rest on his chest for as long as you wanted. Offering you his house, he tried to make it as comfortable as he could; made room in his closet for your clothes, let you order the kitchen as you wished, gave you space to put your bathroom’s products… Juice just wanted to make you feel at home again.

Also, the bank may or may not have received a visit from the sons of anarchy, and it may or may not have been throw a punch or two.

Offended (you offend them without knowing it)

“Juice, stop being so clingy. I just need some space”

Since he came back from the last trip with the guys, he had been following you till no end. At first it was kind of nice, because you missed your boyfriend and you enjoyed seeing his excited face everywhere. But then, he started to pick you up from your job, he tagged alone when you went to the supermarket and even followed you to your daily run. It had become quite the nightmare; what you didn’t know, however, was that in that trip the Mayans had said your name, and Juice was scared to the bone.

He was putting on his shoes to take you to work when you said it, and his heart fell to his feet. Maybe he was being too clingy, yeah, but he was doing it for you. You didn’t miss how his eyes saddened and his shoulders slumped, as he just nodded and told you that he was going for a walk for himself. That day in work you didn’t get anything done; you kept thinking about how Juice looked like a kicked puppy, and before lunch-time you called him to eat with him

During the lunch, you made him explain you what was all that about; and he told you that you might be in danger because of him. If he can’t avoid people threatening you, he will avoid people hurting you. So, to calm him down, you spend a whole day with him in the couch, and let him take you and pick you from work.

Pressure (they reach their breaking point)

It happened during a lock-down. Juice was sitting on a stool looking at you, as Gemma took care of the wound of your shoulder. The other sons had gone to sleep already, but he was still there; waiting for Gemma to finish so that he could hug you again.

When those guys entered, he thought that his life was ending. He heard the gunshots, the screams, and saw your scared face. You were too far away from his reach; Jax wanted him to see something so he was leaning over a table while you were playing with Abel. The little kid loved you and your huge stomach. He saw in the corner of his eye the door opening, and heard Jax screaming everybody down. Juice tried to walk to you, but Jax held him down as more bullets were shot. It lasted only a few minutes, yet for him it was the longest time of his life.

You were curled into a tight ball, hugging you stomach as Gemma ran to you; when you got up, Juice could see the blood in your shirt. And that’s how you ended sitting in a couch, while Gemma took the bullet out of your shoulder and Juice waited in silence. As soon as she left, everything was silent, until the first sob.

After the first tear, millions of them fell down Juice’s eyes, as he got on his knees and hugged your stomach. You stood like that for a while, your hand traveling through his hair and sweet words leaving your mouth. He was not ready to lose the only good thing in his life.

Quake (past experience that hurt them bad)

When you were almost killed in a lockdown when you were pregnant (it’s the situation described above).

In that moment Juice realised that he would never be able to fully give you a safe life; there would always be someone trying to kill you or hurt you because of him. So he thought about two options; leaving you with the baby alone or staying with you. In the first one, you would be safe and happy; but he would be unfair with you and let you with a big responsibility. In the second one, he would be putting you in danger all your life, but he would be able to see his kid growing.

He almost broke up with you, saying that it was for the best. After you talked things, he realised that it would be a mistake, so he took your third options. Leaving little by little the club and starting a family with you, far away.

Rob (your house gets robbed/you get mugged)

It had happened more than what he would like to admit, because one of the things you loved to do was running in the mornings. He actually made you love it; at first, he forced you to go with him, and you had such a great time that you ran by yourself even when he didn’t go with you.

The first time it happened, you arrived to the club crying and looking for Juice. Some guy had taken your phone and your gold necklace as he threatened you with a gun. As Gemma took care of you that day, Juice made sure to find the guy and make him swallow his gun and threats.

Juice tried to run with you every day, but with the club getting more and more big, he had to work until night and he was too tired in the morning. The second time it happened, the guy actually dared to make you a small cut in the neck; no one knew anything else about the guy after Juice found him.

And after that day, Juice makes you carry one little gun in your pocket.

Surgery (their reaction when you’re in emergency surgery)

Life was unfair, Juice thought. He was driving in his black van with you by his side, and you  were telling some joke. Life was unfair; he was laughing but still looking at the road. Life was unfair, because Juice couldn’t do anything when the truck hit your side of the car.

He was unconscious for a while, and sometimes he wished he would have stayed that way. When he woke up, he was hanging upside down with blood on his face. It took him a while to understand what was happening, until he saw you beside him. You looked peaceful, almost sleeping; except that your leg was bending in an unnatural angle and you had a big glass stuck on your chest.

The ambulance came some minutes after he woke up, and they took you away. He was in the ambulance too, trying to get up so he could see you. Juice begged and begged to let him see you, but the only thing he got was a “she needs emergency surgery, call the hospital”. The way there was hell for him. Once in the hospital, he was given a room where he could wait. Wait to know if you were alive, if you had made it. Wait to know if that glass hadn’t made irreparable damage. Just wait.

Time (you’re ill and only have a few months to live)

This is a second part of the B for Baby one.

You didn’t wake up the first day, neither the second. The doctors were trying to guess what was wrong with you, but they didn’t know. Juice stayed by your side for a whole week. He talked to you about his day, about what he had liked or what had upset him. It was the same as if you were home, except that he got no reply.

The only answer he got came nearly a month later. He was sitting in the chair next to your bed, trying to get some information for the club with his computer. In the room, there were flowers, gifts and balloons from all of them, and in a corner Juice had placed a little suitcase with his clothes. Yet the room seemed empty and cold when the doctor told him the news; you were dying. Your body was shutting down itself little by little. They had noticed because your liver wasn’t working anymore, and your kidneys were giving problems by then. In the best scenery, you could last another month before you died.

Juice remembers that day in a blur. He cried, shouted, destroyed things, sobbed, and made a mess of himself. Two days later, he came back to the hospital with a decision; they could shut you down. There were organs that were still a chance for other people, and you would have liked that. So he spent the last few hours with you, trying to burn your face in the back of his head. Just beside the permanent tattoo that said that your dead was his fault. All his fault.

Vent (how do they let things out after a bad day?)

Cuddling. Juice loves cuddling with you, with his head on your chest as you caress his skull and he draws things on your hips.

As I said before, it helps him a lot talking to you about anything that has happened in his day; good or bad. So if he has had a bad day, he walks to your room without even saying hello, because you’ll know what happens. Waits in bed for you and hugs you close. Maybe he doesn’t talk immediately, you don’t need to push him. Because even if he needs a little time for himself, he will tell you and you will help him to feel better.

Weak (they break down in front of you)

XX (sexual assault) PLEASE WARNING: THIS IS RAPE. NON-CON. IT DOESN’T TALK ABOUT IT, IT HAPPENS. I DON’T APPROVE THIS, AND IF YOU’RE UNDERAGE OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT SCROLL TO THE NEXT LETTER. + Kidnapped (you’re kidnapped)

It was a rival gang, always a rival gang. Always his fault.

During a huge lock down, your mother called you; she was sick and she needed help. At first, Juice proposed sending one of the prospect; but your mother didn’t know about the club and it would have been a little strange. So, thinking that the danger was gone, he let you leave while he stayed in Charming taking care of some businesses.

-          Hey baby. -he said through the phone.

-          Juice. -you soft laugh made him smile. -It has been only two hours since I left, missing me already?

-          I’m always missing you. -he was sitting on his bed, trying not to worry too much. -Listen, it’s not too late. I can send some of the guys with you.

-          And what will I tell my mom? That I have orgies with the sons of anarchy? -you asked. -Juice, we’ve already talked about this. She’s sick, it’s better if I go alone. Besides, the problem is already solved, isn’t it?

-          Jax says they’re waiting for the final stroke. -Juice said. They are strong and dangerous, won’t back down just like this.

-          Then I will be safer out of Charming. -there was a moment of silence before you spoke again. -I have to hang, J, I can see my mother waving at me. Will call you later, okay?

-          Okay. -he smiled again, picturing your excited face looking for your mother. -I love you, baby. Take care.

-          Will do. Love you Juice, don’t worry too much.

Do you know the story of Little Red Riding Hood? When the wolf dress up as the grand ma to fool her? Turned out Juice did have something to worry about. Your mother wasn’t sick, just threatened with a gun to her head to call you and make you come. The guys knew you would, because she was old and your brother was dead. And Juice was one of the main parts of SAMCRO, so he couldn’t leave Charming.

-          Mom? -you frowned when you entered your house, seeing strange men in there. -Who are they?

-          I’m so sorry, love. -she cried. -Th-they made me do i-it.

You couldn’t say anything else as some guy pushed you inside of a room and covered your mouth with tape. After that everything was a blur between ripped clothes, open legs and heart-breaking sobs.

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

Jax told him that he didn’t have to worry. Maybe you had just forgotten to call, or you were just too busy with your mother. Juice had accepted that excuse the first day; but you didn’t call the second one neither, and the third day after you left he convinced Tig and Chibs to go with him to your village. His girl called him always and picked his calls, his girl cared about him and would have told him if her mother was too bad. His didn’t let the doors open, he thought, as he walked inside your mother’s house, and certainly his girl didn’t tie her mother to a chair.

He had never been so fast in his life, opening all the doors looking for you while Tig took care of your mother and Chibs looked for any threats. He found you; he found his girl tied to a bed, naked and unconscious, with a little note besides her belly.

“This is our final gift for the sons; we might have not taken anything from you, but I’m sure we’ve left a little baby in her”

Yearn (something they want and they can’t have)

A nice house. Since Juice was a kid, all he ever wanted was to have a nice house, with a big garden and a dog who licked his face. He wanted a place where he could raise his children and have friendly neighbours, but as a member of SAMCRO, he knows he can’t have that.

It would be dangerous; an open house means that bad guys can enter from the back, the front and even the ceiling. Having neighbour means them being the bad guys or living with fear of them calling the police. And for Juice, having children means taking care of them and protecting them. He doesn’t even know if he’s capable of taking care of you yet.

Zombie Apocalypse (how would they survive in a zombie apocalypse)

Juice would be the geek one. Before the apocalypse, he was the guy in charge of a computer; probably a hacker but not much of an outgoing.

You would meet him because you would save him from a zombie. At first he would be a little ashamed, but you showed him that it was alright to be saved by a girl, because not all the boys could be blonde muscled guys. What made you fall for him? Juice is the guy who takes care of everyone, who thinks before acting, and who comes up with the better plans. He might not be a zombie-killer, but when it comes to you, he can handle a few weapons.

#juice imagine #juice one shot #juice ortiz #juice #juice x reader #juice angst alphabet #angst alphabet #request #imaginemai #soa #soa imagine #soa x reader #soa one shot #soa angst alphabet #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy one shot

[armsdealing]

▌real name: marcelo giancarlo reyes marconi. ▌single or taken: single or taken depending on the timeline.  ▌abilities or powers: mixology, cards (don’t play poker with him because you will lose; for that matter, don’t play baccarat or faro or even uno -- again, because you will lose), public speaking, gun handling (has been taught how to use them since he was 14), dancing (breaking/hip hop; salsa; merengue, among others), kickboxing (trained since he was 7), playing sports (primarily soccer; he’s a forward winger) + the powers that come with being a werepuma (being nigh indestructible; healing factor; heightened senses and superhuman condition; shapeshifting, and immunity to psychic attacks, just to name some relevant ones) ▌eye color: dark brown. the puma eyes, when shifts into them, are pretty striking: besides the fact that they gleam, the iris is a ring of green/blue inside a ring of yellow. they seem almost hypnotic, and in the dark, they retroreflect light. (reference / 2) ▌hair color: brown ▌family members: gianna marconi-reyes (mother, deceased), ysmael reyes (father, deceased); a lot of aunts and uncles but primarily -- on his father’s side -- berenice and emmanuel reyes, and daniela and adán, all alive; then there’s his many cousins, all of which he’s very close to (acting sometimes more like siblings than cousins). on the maternal side there’s the marconi family which is big and complex on its own right but he’s not particularly close to any of them. it’s worthy to mention that he’s the grandson of giancarlo marconi, a very prominent don in the east coast mob, though.  ▌pets: he doesn’t have any, but he feeds any and all stray cats he comes across, and they end up following him around.  ▌something they don’t like: he doesn’t like stuck-up attitudes and people out of touch with reality. doesn’t like people noseying into his business, either. alas, he chose to work in social media and he deals with both of those things on a daily basis.  ▌hobbies/activities: the abilities above mentioned count as hobbies, frankly. marcelo is so good at them because he enjoys doing them and practices as often as he can. he also likes cooking (it’s a good sign when he cooks for you) and talking walks, running, swimming, watching movies, listening to podcasts, riding his motorcycle, camping, bouldering, hiking, taking pictures (with a camera and his phone), playing instruments (piano + guitar) and singing. he also likes traveling.  ▌ever hurt anyone before: yes. though big on pacifism nowadays, marcelo is not a stranger to fighting, and not just the kind of fighting where you throw a few punches and then quit. i’m talking full blown brawls where bones have been broken and eyes blackened and he’s had to get yanked away from the other party. he used to be much worse when he was younger, when he was more temperamental and less mindful of his own strength, and when his tolerance towards bullies and insults was zero point zero. nowadays you can still catch that side of him under specific circumstances. however, it’s rare -- he much prefers to remain unresponsive to insults and provocations. and as for hurting people emotionally... tbh yes. sometimes, he doesn’t think before he speaks. and sometimes, he does thinks he speaks, but you deserve to hear what he’s about to say (at least according to him).  ▌ever killed anyone before: in his main verse, not just yet.  ▌animal that represents them: puma, cougar, catamount, mountain lion! but if you want other examples, all felines in general.  ▌worst habits: he pours all his emotional labour into other people and none on himself, usually without noticing that people just use him. he’s gotten a bit better at this (he’s lost some “friends” because of it, no doubt), but still... he worries a lot and whats to Help, and he stresses out when he can’t solve the problems of people he cares about.  ▌role models: his parents but that’s kind of falling apart the older he gets. his aunts, berenice and daniela, and his older cousin natalia (played by @neotropical​). his godmother, also named gianna played by @tribeof​​. emiliano @riverbodies. and his best friend ivana played by @neotropical​​. nearly all his role models are women because men kinda suck, frankly.  ▌sexual orientation: bisexual.  ▌thoughts on marriage/kids: he wants both those things very much. he would definitely love to get married someday and have a small, intimate, but fun wedding and he would love to have kids (he’s thinking three) to raise and love. he would be a natural as a father, far from perfect, but definitely the type of parent that just intuitively knows what his kid wants and needs -- and works to help them even if he doesn’t.  ▌fears: as a result of past traumas, marcelo is terribly afraid of losing people he loves, cue him being very protective over them. he can’t stand the thought of them getting hurt, nevermind actually dying.  ▌style preferences: marcelo values his family above all other things, and it shows pretty much in the fact that he carries them everywhere with him and they really have an impact on his sense of style. he always carries his father’s silver cross necklace not out of a sense of faith (that hasn’t been there for a long time) but because it belonged to his father. he has the birthdate of his twin cousins (inigo and ignacio) tattooed on his shoulders in roman numerals, and the names of his parents on the back of his neck. he’ll often wear necklaces with pictures of family members, and pieces that belonged to his aunts, from chains to rings and bracelets. he made paintings and drawings by his little cousins into shirts he often wears. he lets alba sew patches into his jeans. he gets his nails painted by camila and his hair cut by elián. much of his wardrobe is actually hand me downs when not thrift finds and tend to be combined with high fashion clothes that are, more than often, gifts (from either industry friends or, let’s just say, benefactors) -- but yeah, when not wearing sportswear, he’s mixing and matching repurposed clothes with luxury fashion items. point is: there’s a lot of history to a lot of the things marcelo wears and much of it goes back to his family, which he’s gone as far as to immortalize on his skin in some form. ▌someone they love: ivana, his best friend, is basically his soulmate as well tbh and the person he loves the most. on that same tier go charmaine and rafael (@neotropical). in a platonic and familial manner, he loves gianna (@tribeof), zephyr (@isolctions), emiliano and alondra @riverbodies, and honestly.... this list ain’t long enough. he’s so full of love and you’re all missing out on that shit, smfh. of course, he also loves his entire family to bits.  ▌approach to friendships: marcelo would do, and does, anything for his friends and he loves always making new ones. he’s the helpful, generous type that is happy simply spending time with you, but will also try and get you involved with new things he’s doing, and will always be down for whatever you’d like to do. as a matter of fact, involved is the best way to describe the way marcelo always tries to make his friends feel. he’s not nosey or pushy, but if y’all haven’t talked in a while he will often send you a text to check up on you. he treasures his friendships and devotes time to them. as mentioned before, he’s also very protective and very much a mom friend. ▌thoughts on pie: he’s not crazy about it but he enjoys a good strawberry pie now and then! ▌favorite drink: (non-alcoholic) water, and coffee. colombian coffee to be precise: don pablo colombian supremo, but any colombian brand will do. (alcoholic) his go to alcoholic brands are bacardi, havana club, josé cuervo and antioqueño. he loves his mojitos, daiquiris and cubalibres and those are his usual orders, when not ordered plain.  ▌favorite place to spend time at: his apartment. he isn’t gonna pay rent not to spend time in that shit. that being said he equally enjoys both the city and nature. he thrives in the night life and in clubs, parties of all kinds, the neon HQ and high end bars, and he loves beaches, and parks, and forests, and mountains).  ▌swim in the lake or in the ocean: he won’t refuse either, boy just loves swimming.  ▌their type: honestly it’s really flexible. he can date from the sweetest angel to the biggest asshole if you’re ultimately a good person. he likes people that are comfortable in their own bodies, that are confident and got spine without being conceited. mutual interests definitely help, but a similar desire to grow together and put effort into things and each other is even more attractive to him. just be mature and know how to communicate. 

tagged by: i forgot but i love them. tagging: @neotropical​ (ivy), @tribeof​ (gianna or abel) @isolctions​​​ (zephyr or rue), @belissimae​, @withlwolves​​ (maria) @dirtypaw​​ @zkljns @curdledmiilk​ (your pick, someone you haven’t done) @undones​ (griff) @wheelmans​ @strikier​ (yes im tagging all ur fuckin blogs) 

#* marcelo. #greetings loved ones #just popping in to talk about a boy for a hot second #misc.

[h-o-l-l-i]

Hearts Together

Jax Teller x plus size!Reader

Word Count: 1,740

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: This was requested bu @mrsjaxtellerfan! Requests are OPEN!

Let me know if you want to be added to any of my tag lists for SPN, SOA or TWD!

“Teller-Morrow Garage, this is Y/N. How can I assist you?” You answered the phone in the office, the door to the garage opened, a familiar face popping through. You raised your finger to him so he slid his muscular body in and closed the door, taking a seat. You pulled out the schedule, tailing your finger down the page, “I have two openings tomorrow, 11:30 and a 2:45 with Juice.” His piercing blue eyes glazed over your beautifully curved body, taking in the sight of you in secret. “Okay, you’re scheduled. Thank you for choosing Teller-Morrow, have a great day!” You confirmed, hanging the landline phone back up and sighing.

“What’s the problem, Darlin’?” Jax asked, lighting a fresh cigarette, his mouth curled into a micheivous grin.

“It’s just so cheesy, you know.” You laughed, “How nice I sound.”

“What do you mean, Y/N? You’ve been the nicest person that I’ve known my whole entire life!”

“I can be mean, Jax! Remember that time in middle school—” you pointed to him, leaning against the desk in front of him.

“Ha! Right, that was the meanest I’ve seen you and you just told someone to go screw himself because he was bullying you.” He handed you the cigarette, you rolled your eyes and took a drag. “You comin’ tonight?” He asked, you stared at him, your eyes laced with confusion, “The party at the clubhouse.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Oh! I forgot about that! No, I’m not going.”

He took his cigarette from your hand, his rough fingertips grazing your soft hand, his eyebrows furrowed at your answer, “What do you mean you’re not going, Y/N, you haven’t missed a club party since I got patched in.”

“I’ve got plans, Jax.” You brushed it off, your cheeks beginning to blush.

He leaned forward, “What plans?”

“I’m just getting some dinner with this guy…” your voice trailed.

“What guy? I know him? I can send some—”

You cut him off, opening the door, “No, you don’t know him and you’re not going to send along a prospect. Jax, I’m going on a date and I can handle myself…your next appointment should be here in about 5.” You leaned against the door, smiling.

He nodded his head, biting his lower lip and hugged you before he left the office.

***

You stood in your room in front of the long mirror that hung on the wall, you held  the red dress to your curvy body and then the black one, then cycled back through them. Your head snapped to the edge of the bed where your phone was buzzing.

“Hello?” You answered, sticking the phone between your ear and shoulder, cycling through the dresses once more.

“Hey, Darlin’ What are you doing?” Jax inquired.

“Um, actually trying to figure out what I’m going to wear tonight. I can’t decide.” You laughed, sitting on the corner of the bed, placing the dresses beside you.

“Let me guess, the red or black dress?” He guessed. You laughed, indicating that he was right. “Send me a picture of both and I’ll tell you what I think then.”

“Thanks, Jax.”

“Anything for you, Darlin’”

***

Jax’s phone lit up, a singular buzz, another one a few minutes later. He grabbed his phone and placed his cigarette between his lips, his eyes widened slightly when he opened the first photo, his finger swiped to the next one. “Wow.” He said aloud, catching the attention of Tig.

“What?” He questioned the young son. “Holy shit! Who is that?” His eyes lit up excitedly. “You and Tara?” He raised an eyebrow at Jax.

Jax closed his phone, shook his head and tuck his blonde hair behind his ears, “No, I’m going to the hospital to see Abel then I’m going to tell her that I just can’t do it anymore…” he inhaled deeply, blowing the smoke from his lips.

“If that’s who you’re leaving her for, you’re making one hell of a great decision!” He patted him on the back, “But, just in case thing don’t work out, what’s her name. Maybe she’ll like Uncle Tigger…” he smiled.

Jax scoffed and stood from his stool, “Something tells me that this is going to last. Sorry, Tig.” He smiled, he pulled out his phone and dialed your number that he memorized to heart.

“They both look beautiful on you, Y/N. Really.” Jax smiled, “I think you should wear the red dress.”

“Red it is then; thank you Jax.” You spoke softly. “I have to finish getting ready. Bye, Jax.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

***

You sat down at the table, legs crossed, your heel bouncing, your freshly painted nails, tapping anxiously as time continually passed. “Would you like to place an order ma’am?” The waiter asked turning your attention to him.

You cleared your throat, grabbing at your wallet, “No, um. I’ll just pay—”

He refused, “It’s on the house, I’m sorry they didn’t show…” he stated before leaving you alone, stunned once more at the table.

Your heels clicked as your pace quickened to reach your car before the first tear fell. How could I be this stupid! I should have never come here! You criticized yourself, trying to dry your tears as they began to smudge your make up. Your hand twisted infighting the engine of you old, classic car. A few tears trickled down your cheeks on the way to the clubhouse; you knew you could forget about this horrible night by being surrounded by your family…Jax always made everything better; nothing else mattered when you were with him.

***

“Hey, Tig. Think you can spare some?”  You faked a smile, pointing to the amber liquid pouring from the glass bottle.

His eyes eagerly trailed over your body, his eyebrows raised when he recognized the dress from Jax’s phone earlier. “You look fantastic, Doll.” As you stepped closer to him, he caught sight of your smudged eyeliner and mascara, your eyes bloodshot and swollen. He began pouring you a glass, pushing it over to you.

You downed the drink quickly, his eyes studied you, “What happened, Y/N?” He paused, “You alright?” His voice concerned as he watched you wince from the lingering burning inside of your throat.

“Are all men shit heads?” You asked, gently holding out your glass for another pour. He tipped the bottle and in your opinion stopped a bit short, you shook your head and motioned with your hand. “No, keep going, Tig.”

“You sure, Doll. That can hit pretty women such as yourself kind of quick…”

“I’m a big girl; I can handle myself Tiggy.” You winked at him, he poured. You tipped your glass to him, “Thanks.”

“You want us to go teach him a lesson, Doll?” 

“No, he wasn’t worth it anyway, I’m just trying to fill something that only one person can…nothing works, just him…” your voice trailed, “But, he has a girl and he’s probably not into me anyway so…” you twirled the liquid in your glass.

“You’re too hard on yourself, Y/N. I mean look at you! Any man would be lucky for you to at least think about them.”

You smiled sheepishly and felt yourself blush, “Where’s Jax?” You changed the subject to something that held your whole heart.

“He went to go see Abel.” He said, his eyes then came to you, calculating your reaction to confirm his suspicions, “He’s ending things with Tara. Had some hot chick’s picture on his phone earlier. Drove him wild in a red dress…” your eyes bugged out slightly, making you choke on your drink.

The moment couldn’t have possibly become more awkward until the familiar rumble of Jax’s Harley pulled up to the clubhouse. Tig took that as his queue to leave grabbed his glass, hugged you tightly and left to the sea of women, smoke and music outside.

“Hey, I thought you said you weren’t comin’ tonight, Y/N/” he said, brushing his hair back behind his ears, his swagger like walk and bright smile fading as he caught sight of you. “What happened?” His tone low and fierce.

“The guy never showed” you took a deep breath, “So, I decided to come here, have a good time.” You smiled.

“You’ve been crying.” He pointed to you face.

You shook your head, “It’s allergies.”

“Y/N. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, I know you don’t have allergies—” his heart stopped in realization of what he just revealed to you.

Your eyes wandered his, your voice soft, “Jax…”

“I love you, Y/N. I tried to get my mind off of you because you deserve a nice guy; not an outlaw like me but no one can erase you from my mind. You drive me crazy, every single day; sharing a bed with you when you had no where else to stay, picking your drunk ass up when you were at parties. You constantly saving my ass from the police.” His eyes never left yours, the words he spoke left his perfect lips with such passion and unconditional love.

Your eyes burned slightly with tears, you prince revealing himself at your most fragile moment. All of the words he said rang true in your heart, “What about Tara…” you asked gingerly.

“She was a sad attempt to get my heart to love something else. I ended things with her tonight because I couldn’t stand to think about you with someone else.”

Your eyes welled with happiness, your heart full of love, “I love you to Jax.” You smiled. His face erupted into a wide, bright smile, he stepped close to you, his hands trailed up to your cheeks, pulling your lips to his, kissing you softly.

For that moment the whole world stopped, nothing else mattered, nothing else in the world existed, it was just you and Jax. His lips parted from yours just enough, his forehead rested on yours, “You’re my old lady now, I love you, Y/N.” He kissed your lips tenderly once more.

“Come on,” he said, holding your hand in his, leading you away from where you had your first kiss with him, “When you look you like that; I need to show off my old lady, Darlin’” he smiled wickedly and opened the door. The two of you mixed into the massive collection of bikers hand in hand; hearts together.

#sons of anarchy #soa #jax #jax teller #soa jax #soa jax teller #sons of anarchy jax #sons of anarchy Jax teller #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fan fiction #soa fanfiction #soa fan fiction #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fan fic #soa fanfic #soa fan fic #Jax fanfiction #Jax teller fanfiction #Jax fan fiction #jax teller fan fiction #jax fanfic #jax teller fanfic #jax fan fic #jax teller fan fic #imagine jax #imagine jax teller #jax teller imagine #jax teller imagine #jax teller imagines #jax imagines

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Red Sky At Morning- Part 4

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,497

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, language, angst, implied smut, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

You and the Winchesters were back at the house, back in your regular clothing instead of the fancy ones. You didn’t know where Bela was or what she did with the hand she stole but you knew you needed to get it back. But in the meantime, since you didn’t have her number or anything like that, all you could do is wait until she showed up because you knew she would.

“You know, I might keep these shoes. They are very cute.” You said while sitting on the couch inside the living room. Sam was sitting next to you but Dean was staring at the ship-in-a-bottle with a deep frown on his face.

“You know what, you’re right. I'm not gonna kill her. I think slow torture's the way to go.” Dean said, not paying attention to anything anyone is saying.

“Dean, look, you gotta relax,” Sam said even though he was pissed.

“Relax! Oh yeah, yeah, I'll relax. I can't believe she got another one over on us!” Dean exclaimed.

“You,” Sam said as he looked up.

“What?” Dean asked and you looked at Sam and frowned.

“I... I mean, she got... one over... on you... not us.” Sam stuttered.

“Thanks for the help, Samuel.” You glared at him and he rolled his eyes slightly. Suddenly, there was rapid knocking on the door and you knew exactly who that was.

“Hello? Could you open up?” Bela’s voice came through from the other side. Dean opened the door and all three of you looked pissed at her. “Just let me explain.”

“Oh, I’ll let you explain,” You got up and walked right over to her, raising your arm back to slap her in the face but Dean caught your arm and pulled you into him. You glared at her and she looked at you before looking at Sam and Dean. Dean moved back, bringing you with him and let Bela inside. She walked right over to the table and he let you go.

“I sold it. I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed.” Bela confessed. Sam was leaning against the mantle, giving her the bitchface while you and Dean stood next to Bela, glaring at her. Dean, who was furious, walked around her and shot Bela with his finger gun. If only you could actually kill her.

“So, the whole reason for us going to the charity ball was...?” Sam asked.

“I needed a cover. You were convenient.”

“Look, you sold it to a buyer. Just go buy it back.” Sam sighed.

“It's halfway across the ocean. I can't get it back in time.” Bela sighed.

“In time for what?” You asked, staring at her. She didn’t say anything, except to look down at the table. “Bela, in time for what?”

“I saw the ship.” She finally said, looking up where she stared at the wall instead of in anyone’s eyes.

“You what? Wow, you know, I—I knew you were an immoral thieving con artist bitch, but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower—” Dean was cut off.

“What are you talking about?” Bela looked at him.

“We figured out the spirit’s motive,” You said, making her look at you. You grabbed a photograph off the table she was sitting at and showed her. “This is the captain of the ghost ship. The one who hung our ghost boy.”

“So?” Bela was confused.

“So, they were brothers. Very Cain and Abel. So now our spirit, he's going after a very specific kind of target – people who've spilled their own family’s blood,” You explained and Bela looked shocked. “See, first, there was Sheila who killed her cousin in the car accident, and the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance. And now you.” Sam explained.

“Oh my God…” Bela whispered.

“Who was it, Bela? Hmm? Who did you kill? Was is daddy? Your little sister, maybe?” Dean antagonized her.

“It’s none of your business,” Bela said in a clipped tone.

“It isn’t? You came to us for help and you don’t want to tell us what happened? Alright, have fun with the rest of your life. Let’s go,” Dean said, slapping Bela on her back. You smiled at her and got up but stopped when you realized, this wasn’t who you were. Even though Bela was a con artist, you weren’t her and you liked helping people and Bela was no different.

“You can’t just leave me here,” Bela said, sounding scared. Dean and Sam were already at the door but you were still by her side.

“Watch us.” Dean glared.

“Bela, listen to me,” You whispered to her, making her look at you. You could see how scared she was. “The only reason I’m helping is because that is who I am. I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for me and for the people after you who will see this ship. Look, you’re hiding something and that's fine if you don’t want to tell us, we’re not going to force you. But acting like you’re not scared when you are, isn’t going to help us. Guys, we have to help her.”

“Why should we, a couple of serial killers, help her?” Dean asked, holding a grudge against her.

“Okay, that was a bit harsh, I admit, but it doesn’t warrant a death sentence,” Bela said, standing up, you following her actions.

“Because that is who we are, Dean. We help people, even if they don’t deserve it.” You said to Dean, looking at Bela. She sighed and looked down.

“What did you do, Bela?” Sam asked.

“You wouldn't understand. No one did.”

“We all have our stories. You’d be surprised, Bela, at what we understand. We’ve been through a lot.” You said, walking past her and going over to Dean.

“You do realize you just sold the one thing that could save your life,” Dean said.

“I’m aware,” Bela said sadly.

“Well, maybe not the only thing…” Sam said with a sigh.

Sam had figured out a way to save Bela’s life and as much as Dean didn’t like it, you three went through with the plan. You four were in the cemetery while Sam was getting everything set up how it was meant to be. Sam was supposed to summon the man who was hanged and since Bela was due to die soon, that brother that killed his own is supposed to show up and then that is when everything is going to go down.

Sam set up a kind of ritual thing in the middle of the cemetery which consisted of five candles, a pentagram, and a bowl which Sam poured some type of red liquid into it and you did not want to know what was in that thing. Another jar is on the opposite side of the circle with herbs in it. You looked over at Bela and saw her get impatient.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” She asked.

“Almost definitely not,” Dean grumbled, leaning against one of the headstones, his shotgun lying across his shoulder from behind. You were standing next to him, leaning into his body and Bela looked over at him and glared. Suddenly, the wind started to pick up and rain started pouring. This was not a good sign at all.

“Sam, you better start reading.” You said, knowing that the spirit was going to show up soon and kill Bela. Sam started saying the ritual and as the rain fell harder and the wind picked up speed, Sam’s words grew louder each time.

“Stay close!” Dean yelled at Bela and you picked up your shotgun from the grass, ready for anything that came your way.

“Behind you!” Bela shouted and you turned around to see the ghost that killed Peter. You raised your gun but you weren’t quick enough and the spirit threw you against a few headstones and you groaned out in pain. You looked up to see the same thing happen to Dean. Sam looked up to see this happening and read faster. The spirit rushed to Bela and grabbed her face. You knew she wouldn’t be able to fight back since she wasn’t a hunter, technically.

Bela began coughing up water, paralyzed to take only what the spirit gave her. Bela fell to her knees and you grunted as you got up, reaching for your gun.

“Sammy, read faster!” Dean yelled at his brother. Suddenly, the rain stopped and the spirit took his hand off Bela’s face which made her cease her coughing. At least now, it wasn’t that bad. The spirit slowly turned around to see his brother, the one he hanged. You gasped and finally staggered onto your feet, walking over to Dean who put a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, are you?” He nodded in response to your answer.

“You... hanged me!” The brother gasped.

“I’m sorry,” The captain said.

“Your own brother…”

“I’m so sorry!” The brother who was hanged charged at the captain and as soon as they touched, they both dissolved into screamed and a splash of water. You looked over at Bela to see her no longer coughing. The wind was gone and so was the rain. You sighed and looked at Sam to see his shoulder’s sag.

This was all over.

The next day, you didn’t know where Bela went to after the big showdown but you, Sam and Dean were packing so that you could get the hell out of this town. You were almost finished packing when the door opened and Bela waltzed in.

“You should learn to lock your doors. Anyone could just barge in.”

“Anyone just did. Did you come to say goodbye or thank you?” You said, barely glancing her way.

“I’ve come to settle affairs. Giving the spirit what he really wanted, his own brother, very clever, Sam. So here,” Bela said, reaching into her purse. You and the brothers turned to her, wondering what she could possibly give you. She took out wads of money and threw each of you a stack. You caught it and looked at the amount: $5,000.

“It’s fifteen thousand—that should cover it.” She added.

“Why are you giving us this?” You asked, not like you were complaining.

“I don’t like being in anyone’s debt.”

“So, ponying up fifteen grand is easier for you than a simple thank you?” All she did was smile and Dean shook his head. “You're so damaged.”

“Takes one to know one. Goodbye lads, Y/N.” Bela’s smiled widened and she turned around, leaving the place.

“She’s got style, you gotta give her that,” Sam said, putting the money in his duffel. You looked at your money and grinned at Dean.

“What are you grinning about?”

“Now I can take you on a proper date. And I think I know just the date.” Dean smiled and walked over to you, giving you a short but sweet kiss on the lips.

“You know, Y/N, we don’t know where this money has been.” Sam pointed out.

“No, but I know where it's going... A-HA HA!” Dean laughed, getting an idea of where to spend his five grand. You shook your head and grabbed your duffel, walking to the car with the boys, eager to get on the road.

You spent the better part of the day on the road, Dean going to wherever he wanted to go. It was already dark outside and you just found out where Dean wanted to go.

“Seriously? Atlantic City?” Sam asked.

“Hell yeah! Play some roulette. Always bet on black,” Dean grinned, taking a pause before speaking again. “Hey, listen, I've been doing some thinking. Um... I want you to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the crossroads demon. Y/N, I’m not happy you tried to sell your soul for me and if you do that again, I’m going to be the one that kills you. But I understand why you did it.”

You knew that was an empty threat but you nodded your head. Dean wasn’t done speaking though.

“You know, if the situation were reversed, I guess I would have done the same thing. I mean I'm not blind, I see what you're going through with this whole deal, me going away and all that. But you're gonna be okay, sweetheart. You too, Sammy.”

At the mention of this, you got angry, you got tears. How dare he say this?

“You think I’ll be okay? You think I can just go on with my life, knowing you’re not going to be there for me, ever? You think that is going to be okay?” You scoffed.

“Sweetheart, listen, you two are going to be just fine. You’ll both keep hunting and living your life. Hell, you’re both stronger than I am. You are and you’ll get over it. It may not be easy but you’ll get over it. Just like mom… dad… Jessica. You’ll move on with your life. But I want you to know I'm sorry, I’m sorry for... putting you through all this, I am.”

“You know what, Dean? Go screw yourself.” Sam said and you agreed with him.

“What?”

“We don’t want apologies, Dean. We’re big kids now, we can take care of ourselves.” You spoke up.

“Oh, well, excuse me.” Dean scoffed.

“So, would you please quit worrying about me? About us? I mean that's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean, I want you to worry about you! I want you to give a shit that you’re dying!” Sam yelled, his voice rising at the end.

“Sam is right, Dean. We need you to start giving a shit about your life.” You added, but Dean said nothing.

“So, that's it? Nothing else to say for you?” Sam asked.

“I think maybe I'll play craps,” Dean smirked. Your mouth opened at how lightly he was taking this whole thing. Sam shook his head, clearly outraged but looked out the window. You kept staring at Dean and when he thought no one else was looking, his smile faded and you saw him gulp.

You slid over to the driver’s side, putting your mouth between Dean’s ear and the window before whispering.

“You know, this whole façade you’re putting up is shit, Dean. I know you better than anyone, so don’t think you got me fooled. I will not stop trying to give you your life back because you are worth it. You break my heart when you say things like this.” You pulled away from him and you met his eyes in the rearview mirror. You let a tear fall, making sure he saw it before looking away.

The year is halfway up and you still had no clue what to do in order to save his life.

Series Rewrite Junkies:

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#supernatural series rewrite #red sky at morning #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester angst #spn series rewrite #dean x reader #dean fic #dean fanfiction #dean angst #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fiction #series rewrite #season 3 episode 6 #s3e6 #s3e6 spoilers #spoilers #spn #spn spoilers #supernatural #supernatural spoilers #sam winchester #bela talbot

[blessyourheartdharps]

Three Mopes At A Pub || Max&Abel&Dani

Who: Max Souza @maxellissouza & Abel Hayward @hayabel & Dani Harper 

When: Tuesday, 07/24/18 - After 9 pm

Where:  The Pub

What: Max runs into Abel and Dani, they spend some time together before Abel decides to leave

Notes: alcohol & depression || also I’m terrible at names

Max nodded at the bartender when he was asked if he wanted a third drink, figuring there was no harm in it. He usually stuck to a two drink maximum, as he was a lightweight, but he had the time before work to sleep it off anyway, and he was in a pretty crappy mood. He'd finally gotten the chance to go out with that cute girl from the coffee shop that he'd been chasing for weeks, only for her to leave once he'd told her what he did for a living. Why was it such a big deal to people? So he danced around in his underwear for a living, there were worse professions a person could have! He sipped on his whiskey, grimacing a little as he did. He hated the stuff, but it was what men drank, and since he was nearing the age of twenty-two, it was probably time he started acting like one. That's what his parents said, anyway. 

He was considering just leaving the bar and going home for an early night in, when he saw two slightly familiar faces walk in. He'd only had one brief conversation with Dani, and an even shorter one with Abel, but they'd both been really nice to him. And leaving without at least saying hi would be rude, he could almost hear his mother nagging him in the back of his head. So, before he could stop himself, he walked over in their direction, hoping that they would remember him and he wouldn't totally embarrass himself by saying hello.

Abel was looking forward to going out with Dani. Between everything, he was pretty relaxed ever since he got back to New York. Granted seeing Marley  was pretty relaxing as well. He checked up on Isabella, hoping she was doing okay with his parents and being in Lima. "So, how many drinks are we going to be drinking tonight?" He asked as he looked at Dani and looked over to see a familiar face. If he remembered correctly, his name was Max and he waved. "Yo."

Dani was glad to have Abel back in New York. She was also glad to be going out for drinks, she needed it. Being back in New York was starting to feel like a terrible idea, but she knew it was what she needed for her career. It wasn't like she'd been expecting a warm welcome from anyone, much less old friends and her ex girlfriend and, in truth, she wasn't expecting anything from Santana. The messages she'd exchanged with Santana, posting Stone Cold, it all had her head spinning and the only way she knew to make it stop was alcohol. It was nice to be going out, doing stuff, it kept her mind off shit. "You want a number or will you accept I want to down as many as it takes to stop feeling like I want to run away?" She laughed a bit, following her gaze to the familiar face. Max. "Howdy."

Max let out a sigh of relief when they both seemed to recognize him, at least, if they were actually talking to him. A quick look over his shoulder made him realize that they were, so he smiled and came closer. "Hey, guys. Having a fun night?"

"Just enough so I can pay the tab later and make you stop feeling like you need to run away because its not healthy." Abel pointed out before he turned his attention towards the guy. "Yeah, just starting actually. What about you, having a fun night. Also want to have drinks with us? Since we haven't started drinking yet."

"I got some cash, you ain't gotta buy all my drinks. And I know, and yet that's what I've been doin' my entire life. Runnin from it all." She shrugged a bit and smiled at Max. The conversations he'd had with him had been interesting and he really seemed like a nice guy. "Ask me after a couple drinks, you'll get a better answer, but I'm sure we're in for a decent night."

Max shook his head, glancing at the door before turning back to them. "Nah, that's okay, I wouldn't want to intrude or anything. I was just going to head home, call it an early night." He shrugged, a little sadly, taking another look at the door in hopes that his date would suddenly walk back through it.

"Or you can pay me back." Abel replied with a knowing look. He raised an eyebrow when he heard Max, then looked towards the door and looked back at the guy. "C'mon, you won't be intruding. Besides, you're in for good company anyway. Unless you gotta work in the morning?"

Dani rolled her eyes at Abel, but smiled. However, it faltered as she heard Max talk. "Now, I ain't gonna stop ya if you've got work, but other than that I'm gonna insist you stay.  At least for one drink. I don't like the idea of anyone goin home sad." She put a hand on her hip, eyeing Max.

"I uh..." He sighed and scratched the top of his head. "I have work tomorrow night starting at midnight? So... should probably... you know. Rest up for that." It wasn't that he didn't want to hang out with Dani and Abel, he was sure they'd be a lot of fun, but he didn't want to feel like a third wheel. Especially not when he was in a sour mood, and at risk for ruining their fun. "I guess maybe one drink couldn't hurt though."

"She has a point and if I was you, I wouldnt argue with her. Or she'll slap you upside the head." Abel nodded as he put his hand up just in case she would. "Awesome, feel free to take a set and enjoy. Is everyone cool with shots?"

Dani smirked at Abel, laughing a bit. "That I will, and beside, midnight tomorrow is a long way from now, I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to rest up." She hated seeing people upset at the bar, but especially when she herself wasn't in the best mood. She wanted to help people feel better, cause somewhere along the line she'd feel better. "I'm always good with shots."

Max nodded and sat down at the bar, giving them a small, only slightly foced smile. "Okay, but just one. It doesn't take too many of those before I'm at the point where trying to order an Uber is like solving a Rubex cube." He was starting to feel grateful that Dani and Abel had walked in. This at least beat sitting at home and moping, that was for sure.

"I have never heard someone compared solving a Rubex cube to ordering an Uber. I like it." Abel said as he looked at Max with a smile. "Alright, I'll go and get us a round of shots and I'll be back." He pulled out his wallet as he headed towards the bar. "Can I get a round of shots?" He ordered with his voice slightly loud,  before he saw a beautiful lady at the bar and grabbed the tray after a while. "Thanks, put it on my tab alright?" He slowly made his way back to the table, hoping he wouldnt be  wearing the liquor.

Dani laughed a bit, at Max's comparison. "Rubix Cube, eh? Guess I could see it." She watched Abel walk away and turned to Max. "You land that tinder date you were lookin for?" She raised an eyebrow, hands stuffed into the pocket of her jeans.  "Or even just someone to talk to?" Her attention wandered towards the bar, smirking a bit as Abel slowly made his way back.

Max smiled at Abel, watching him as he walked away, but his smile fell again at Dani's question. "Oh, well, sort of. You just missed her, actually. She wasn't cool with the whole... stripper thing." He shrugged and turned to her, acting like it stung less than it had. "You win some, you lose some, what are you going to do?"

Abel said excuse me as he walked towards the table and carefully put the tray onto the table. "Lose what? If you don't mind me askin'." He said as he put the tray in the middle of the table and walked back around where he was standing.

Dani sighed, nodding a bit as Max spoke. "Well, if she has an issue with it she doesn't deserve you. Cause there ain't no shame in what you do, and anybody whose got an issue with it ain't worth your time." She nodded her head a bit. Looking over at Abel she smiled. "Tinder dates not worth his time. Or somethin'."

Max nodded, grimacing a little as he picked up the shot. "Yeah. Or something. But it's cool. I'll get over it. With a little help from my friend Mr. Tequila Shot." He tapped the shot glass against the other two and quickly downed it. "Starting to forget her already."

"Oh, yeah no. Tinder's pretty basic for hookups and threesomes, sometimes and there are some people who are on there to make friends." Abel replied as he took a shot and downed it after they tapped shot glasses. He swallowed the tequila, placed it onto the table. "Good."

Dani nodded a bit. She picked up the shot, tapped the glass and downed it, making sure to not slam it back down on the table too hard. "You deserve better anyway." Chuckling a bit, she looked over at whoever was working the bar. "How weird of a look y'all think I'd get from the bartender if I ordered a Tie Me To The Bedpost?" She asked, turning back to the guys.

"I mean, is that an actual drink? Or did you just make that up? Because I think that it would probably seem a little weird if it wasn't one." Max chuckled and shrugged. "But no judgments from me, I mean, if that's what you're into..."

Abel had to hold back from laughing and swallowed his chuckles. He took a minute to breath and let out a breath when he knew he could. "Its an actual drink, don't worry." He replied with a smile and looked over at Dani. "Go and get it. Also no judgement here."

Dani chuckled but stuck her hand on her hip. "Now, that ain't what I asked. I asked how weird a look I'm gettin from him. I was already gonna order it whether y'all were judging me or not." She smiled, but headed off to the bar anyway, leaning up against it to flag down the bartender in question. "Can I get a tie me to the bedpost, hun?" Dani smiled at the way the bartender went red, her bottom lip between her teeth. She paid out of pocket for it and winked at the still flustered bartender before walking back over to the guys.

Max watched the interaction with a laugh, taking a second to check out the bartender. "The poor guy. He's too cute to be teased like that. Not that he seems to mind, anyway. Though I hope he doesn't think he actually has a shot with you, because that'd just be cruel."

Abel grabbed another shot, downed it and placed it onto the table. "Eh, let the guy dream until she pops his bubble." He murmured as he placed his empty shot glass and grabbed another one.

"Oh but that's the fun part. But don't worry, I'll order a sweet tight pussy at some point and settle it." She grinned, taking a sip of her drink. It was a little weird to be drinking fruity stuff, after so much Jack, but that was precisely why she was doing it. Dani knew Jack would get her drunk, he was her old faithful, but she wasn't just looking to get drunk. She was looking to have a good time and forget for a bit, find reasons to not run, find friends, people to tease, people to flirt with. Just have fun.

Max eyebrows went up a little at that, and he nearly choked on his drink. "You know, I should probably be used to hearing those words by now, but I guess this is one time I wasn't expecting them. Jesus, yeah, I think that might do the trick."

Abel licked his lips before he placed his other shot glass next to his other two. "While you two bond over nasty shit, Ima get myself rum and coke." He walked away from the table and stood at the counter. Don't get him wrong, he would chime in but lately he hadnt been feeling himself. "Can I get a rum and coke and I'll just pay the tab right now if I can." He said as he pulled out his wallet and paid for it all. He told them thank you, grabbed it and took it back to the table.

"Sorry, not sorry?" Dani said, but turned to watch Abel, her face scrunching up. Something was off. She knew Abel well enough to know when he wasn't okay. She sighed, sipping her drink, trying to figure out what was wrong, as if she stared at him long enough the answer would just become obvious. As he came back she turned back towards Max. "What're you drinkin'?"

Max shrugged and took another sip of his whiskey with a grimace. "Whiskey. I hate it. It tastes like death and misery."  He looked over at her fruity drink with envy. "Wanna trade?"

Abel took a drink of his rum and coke, ignored the conversation and took another shot. He placed the empty shot glass next to the others, wiped his mouth and focused on his drink.

"Death and misery, eh? Never thought I'd hear one of my favorite drinks called such, but sure, ain't nobody need to be tasting misery right now." She set the drink down and slid it towards him. Whatever was going on with Abel really throwing her off. "I can't carry your ass home, slow it down." Her words were almost too gentle for what she was saying.

Max gratefully took a long sip of the fruity drink, happy to get the taste out of his mouth. He finally noticed Abel's sour mood, and  looked closely at him with concern. "Hey, I know it's not really my place, but are you okay, man?"

"Yeah, Im fine. Just, having a moment. That's all." Abel replied as he held back his tears and pocketed his pants. "I'm gonna go ahead and leave, don't wanna ruin the mood that's going on here." He looked at Dani. "So I will see you back at the apartment and." He looked back at Max. "I'll see you around, aight? Thanks for the drinks and  see you guys around." He gave them a small smile and headed towards the door.

Dani narrowed her eyes at Abel, held up a finger to let Max know to hold on, and immediately followed him, fist curling into the back of his shirt. "Not so fast. If you think I'm lettin you walk outta here for the exact same reason I wasn't lettin him leave, you've lost your damn mind and forgot who you're out with. I know you've been goin through shit, but I ain't about to let my best friend go home and mope." She let go of his shirt and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting to see what Abel would do.

Max sunk back into his seat a little, focusing on finishing off Dani's drink and ordering another, instead of their conversation, figuring it'd be better to get drunk than to eavesdrop. Plus, Dani had good taste, the drinks were delicious.

Abel clenched his jaw when she grabbed his shirt. "Let go of my shirt, Dani." He swallowed hard as he looked at her. "No, I didn't forget who I was with, but Im not going to be bringing down the mood when I just want to get drink and get lost in my sorrows when you guys are having fun.  Besides, Im sure I've made a bad impression on the guy already, and another person who hates me." He felt her let go of his shirt. "So, go back and have fun. I will see you back at the apartment." He looked at Max. "It was nice seeing you man, sorry for all of this." He looked back at Dani. "Don't drink too much." He opened up the door and headed back to the apartment.

#depression tw #alcohol tw #eventwhatif #parawhatif #i: max souza #i: abel hayward #p: max souza #p: abel hayward #p: 003 #p: all