#but this death came out of nowhere and smacked me in the face

[novelmonger]

His tomorrow never came, and when she saw him next, he lay there looking so serene and noble, it seemed as if it must be well with him, for all the pain was past; temptation ended; doubt and fear, hope and love, could no more stir his quiet heart, and in solemn truth he had gone to meet his Father, and begin again.

- Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott

#quotes #rose in bloom #louisa may alcott #i can't stop crying please send help #this might sound strange because beth's death is such a tear-jerker #but i never shed a single tear when reading little women and its sequels #but this death came out of nowhere and smacked me in the face #as soon as it became clear he wasn't going to make it i just started SOBBING #he's not even my favorite of the cousins! #i never knew alcott had the same talent for making you CARE and GRIEVE at the drop of a hat that dickens does

[lilisettean]

Glittering Scales | Rafayel/Reader

About: You didn't know what to expected when Rafayel texted you to get him bags of ice near midnight. You thought it was for some art piece he was working on and didn't question it. Turns out, it was for something you did not expect. At all.

Pairing: Rafayel/Reader

Notes: Based on that mermen having 2.... you know.... tweet.

AO3: Read here!

Warnings: Mating, Monster(?)fucking, Tentacle, No protection, Hints of breeding. Please tell me if I missed something! Also 18+ only please. Enjoy :)

“Rafayel?”

Your voice echoed throughout the empty studio. Normally Rafayel would be here to greet you, be it from the floor or on the ladder he sat on while painting. But today he was nowhere to be found.

A faint splash of water down the hallway alerted you to his presence. With a sigh, you followed the sound, your bare feet breaking the quiet that descended upon the studio. 

‘Is he painting while in the bathtub again?’ You thought as you carried bags of ice under your arms and in your hands. After going radio silent for a week, he texted you out of nowhere, asking you to get him enough ice to last him for a few days. And while you had half a mind to ask him why and where he had been, curiosity got the best of you and you agreed readily.

Another splash brought you out of your thoughts, and you sighed at what sounded to be impatient flicks of his tail against the water.

“Coming! Coming, jeez–”

The sight of Rafayel sitting in the bathtub, his tail hanging out the edge of it, greeted you. Small puddles of water dotted the tiled floor, his phone lay haphazardly on top of the pile of clothes next to the bathtub. Oddly enough, his painting equipment was nowhere to be found. 

Despite having seen his merman form– his original form, you should say, multiple times before, the shimmering blue scales that were on his tail and his skin always enthralled you. And under soft moonlight shining through the full length windows, it looked as though they glowed, drawing you in.

Before you could lift a hand to touch the scales on his tail however, he flicked it, smacking your thigh and dousing your pants with water.

“What took you so long? I am on the verge of death!”

“I had to go around and buy these for you! Why do you need them anyway?” You huffed as you set the bags of ice you bought down to the side. It was almost midnight when his text came and you had to scramble to get at least a few bags for him, lest it wasn’t enough for… whatever he’s doing. The nerve. Pinning him with a stern look, to which he innocently blinked in response, you continued.

“And you don’t get to talk! What took you so long to text me back? You were unreachable for the entire week!”

If it weren’t for the fact that you arrived back in Linkon city mere hours ago, you would’ve gone and visited him as soon as he dropped off the face of the Earth. Rafayel would never go a day without calling you at least once, so when he suddenly did not reply to any of your texts or answer any calls, you knew something was deeply wrong.

Noticing that you were eyeing him critically, he turned away from your gaze, hoping you wouldn’t pick up on anything irregular. But unfortunately for him, you did.

“Are you sick? Why does your face look so red?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you leaned closer to inspect him. You thought it would be impossible for the blush that stained his cheeks to intensify even further, but it did. If anything, it looked like it spread to his ears too.

“Yes– Well, not really but I…” He stuttered, his usual nonchalant demeanor nowhere to be found. To you, it seemed like he was avoiding any sort of eye and skin contact. Interesting.

With a long suffering sigh, he looked towards you again, his eyes pleading. “Please just give me the ice. It’s too hot.”

“Only if you tell me what’s wrong.” You countered, but still tore open the bags anyway. He sighed in contentment the moment the ice came contact with his higher than what should be normal skin temperature. The ice that settled on his skin and his scales would soon melt and you idly wondered if you had to buy more when morning came.

‘There’s a store about 15 minutes away, maybe I should–’ A soft mumble from him interrupted your train of thought. “What did you say?”

Despite you prompting him, it took him another minute before he repeated his words.

“It’s… mating season.”

It took a few more moments before his words registered in your mind. Mating season, he said. What does that have to do with– Oh.

“Oh. And you’re…” Your eyes darted down, not so subtly wondering where his cock would be when in his original form. Nothing out of the ordinary– and was that ironic, saying that there was a merman in front of you ordinary– caught your eye.

To you, anyway. To him, however… 

Rafayel drew in a stuttered breath, desperately grasping at the shards of sanity that were slipping away from him. You being unaware of the details pertaining to merman physiology and mating rituals was making him antsy. He should’ve explained the differences between his original form and his human form a long time ago, yet couldn’t as the otherworldliness of it might scare you off. He knew you wouldn’t run away so easily but that apprehensiveness stayed because what if…?

Despite all of this, he couldn’t help but preen under your appreciation for his scales. Merpeople took great care maintaining their scales, and mermen in particular would show off theirs during mating season to attract attention from their intended.

You, being his intended, who was now perched on the edge of the bathtub, touching and admiring his scales, would be interpreted as acceptance to the mating ritual. But there was no ritual, nor request from him, so it was all null and void. He pointedly ignored the disappointment that seeped into his gut. This was for the best and for your own good, he thought, and yet–

“Do you… want me to help you?” You asked as you traced the edges of his scales, not catching the hitch in his breath when your fingers trailed further and further up his tail.

“I’d rather not. My physiology is not what you’d expect.” 

“And let you sit here for days on end?” 

“...” Rafayel bit his lip. You had a point. The constant neediness brought by his biology made it difficult for him to focus on anything of note. But what if you rejected him once you saw what was in store for you? It would feel like that day all those years ago all over again, when you didn’t remember him despite him spending so much time looking for you.

He shook his head at that. No, he should have more faith in you. And so with much trepidation, he relented. “If you are that determined, I won’t stop you. But…” He trailed off, grabbing your arm and yanked you towards him, causing water to splash out of the bathtub and onto the floor. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“At least let me take my clothes off–”

“No need.” With a snap of his fingers, his flame Evol materialized and he brought the gentle flame to your clothes. And within seconds, every piece of clothing on you burned away, leaving you exposed to the warm summer’s night air. 

“Rafayel!” It always tickled whenever he did that, a fancy trick he liked to use whenever he felt particularly impatient. “How long were you…?”

“Long enough.” He replied, leaning back against the bathtub to let you get used to your new position. You were straddling him, your hips sat upon the upper half of his tail. While the water both of you were submerged in was cold, icy almost, the heat from his body warmed you.

A spot on Rafayel’s tail piqued your curiosity. It was warm and softer to the touch, unlike other places. You reached down to lightly poke at said spot, only for him to hiss in warning. 

Oh. Was that where– Then how–

You prodded that spot for a bit, carefully watching Rafayel’s face while figuring out how his merman form worked. He stared right back at you, his pupils dilated and his lips parted as he watched you with interest.

“Rafayel? Can you give me that ability to breathe underwater for a moment? I want to try something…”

He arched his eyebrow at your sudden request, but didn’t comment. Wordlessly, he pulled you closer and into a kiss, wrapping an arm around your torso while tucking a few stray strands of hair that fell on your face.

A simple, chaste kiss was more than enough to give you the ability needed to breath underwater for an hour. And yet he cannot bring himself to pull away from you. If anything, he cannot stop kissing you, cannot stop his tongue from prying your lips open and pushing against yours. 

It was only when you needed air that you parted from him, albeit reluctantly. Like his, your face was flushed from the heat and the intensity of the kiss, fueling the growing fire that was threatening to take over within him.

Now equipped with the ability you needed, you shuffled away from him and dived under the cold water both of you sat in. Faintly, you could hear him ask what your goal was, but you only grinned in response.

Over water, his scales looked as though they were shimmering, glinting softly under the lights. But seeing them underwater was another story. They looked iridescent, the water around them making them almost dreamlike in its shine. But as pretty as they were, you were on a mission. A mission to see what Rafayel was hiding from you.

You poked the same soft spot that was on the front of his tail, and with a bit of prodding, you found a well hidden slit between his scales.

‘This must be it then.’ You thought as you brushed over the slit, missing the shuddered breath Rafayel had let out. You dipped a finger into the slit, and found something round– the tip, perhaps– poking at your fingertip.

You circled your fingertip around the head, coaxing it to come forward. And slowly, you feel it inch closer and closer to the opening, with warm slick coating your fingertips before dissipating into the water.

Rafayel sighed as you teased the tip of his cock, if he was in his human form he would’ve been fully hard by now. But he was in his original form, his apprehension to your eventual surprise eating at him, causing him to be slower to react. That didn’t stop his neediness to take over though, as he could feel himself getting closer and closer to revealing himself by the minute.

He was about to ask if you were doing alright, until he felt your lips on his slit. He tossed his head back, groaning at your tongue teasing his opening and his tip. He could feel his cock pushing through his slit, widening it and protruding into your more than eager mouth.

You gasped when you tasted his salty, tangy tip in your mouth. While it tasted the same as his human form, the tip was smoother and coated with more precome than you expected.

The similarities between his human form’s cock and his original form ended there, you quickly realized. As soon as more of his cock emerged from his sheath and into your waiting mouth, you felt there were ridges on the side of it. Fleetingly, you wondered as you dragged your tongue across the ribbed sides, whether there were more surprises waiting for you. This cannot be it, right? There had to be more which would explain his visible apprehension.

As soon as that thought ended though, Rafayel suddenly cradled your chin, and coaxed you to resurface. 

Unlike earlier, when he still looked like he had some semblance of control, his stormy purple eyes were now focused, pinning you in place as though you were his prey. The nervousness that was evident before was now gone, replaced with a growing hunger. Hunger that could be only satisfied by having–

“You.” He panted, pulling you closer and closing the too wide gap between you and him. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Merpeople… My people mate for life. There will be no going back after this.” He stated, doing his best to ignore his growing cock poking at your inner thigh. He had to warn you before you walk into uncharted territory, clueless to the repercussions again. While this was not life threatening, like the things you usually run head into first, it was severe enough wherein if you had denied the bond that formed afterwards, it would tear him apart.

“I think we are past that point of no return, no? With all the vows I’ve made to you.” You replied as you tucked away the damp strands of hair that clung to his forehead, pressing a reassuring kiss on his temple. And that was true. The promise you made when you two were children, the vow you made next to the hospital fountain late at night. You promised you would never leave his side, so why would you leave now?

Rafayel laughed in relief, burying his face between your breasts as he clung to you. With the emotional hurdle out of the way, what was left was the more physical hurdle. Unlike before, however, he felt less worried about this one now.

“I hope you are prepared then.” He smiled as he littered quick kisses all over your decollete, inching closer to your neck and then your lips. “Because after this…”

“I will never let you go.”

Rafayel captured your lips with his once more, the kiss slow but all the more passionate. With his worries soothed, he slotted his emerging cock against your mound, wanting you to feel the effect you had on him as you kissed.

It wasn’t long before the kisses turned less than chaste. You gasped as he left open mouthed kisses down your neck, suckling on the skin beneath his lips as he thrusted his cock against you. The bumps on the underside of his shaft rubbed and teased your clit perfectly, and you couldn’t help but return the favor by shifting your hips to his rhythm, making him grow thicker and thicker by the moment.

You had a feeling that his cock wasn’t just ribbed while you grinded against him. You can’t exactly explain why, other than there were parts of his shaft that felt… softer to the touch, despite knowing that he’s turned on beyond relief.

“Rafayel–” 

“Mmh?” He hummed as his mouth left another love bite on your neck, pausing to admire his handiwork.

“Can I… Will you let me see it?” You asked, reaching down to drag a finger across his tip. He shuddered at your touch, and you felt his cock twitch in interest. It seemed that his drive to mate was slowly taking over, as all he could muster was a nod.

With his permission, you tore away from him, giggling when he whined at the loss of contact. You reassured him with a quick kiss to his cheek, and dodge his clingy hands when you retreated. Inhaling one deep, steadying breath, you steeled yourself, and looked down.

Oh. Oh. 

Was that a sight to behold.

Through the clear water, you saw his cock in its full glory. His tip was round, like humans, but that was where the similarities ended. It was flushed dark blue, his cock the same color as his scales. 

You dived underwater again to take a closer look, your curiosity getting the best of you. Immediately, you spot that there were bumps and ridges down the shaft and all the way to the base. His cock both intimidated you, and made your walls clench.

But that wasn’t all.

Curled around his cock was a tentacle shaped like a smaller shaft. Like what it was wrapped around, the tentacle flushed blue and had small lumps on the sides. It was slimmer in comparison, but still as thick as his finger. With avid interest, you reached out to touch it, and was surprised when it unfurled itself and curled around your finger, coaxing you to come closer.

Like a creature under a sea witch’s spell, you inched closer, fascinated by the cock in front you. And before you knew it, you curled your fingers around his base, testing how the bumps felt under your skin by stroking it.

Above the surface, Rafayel gasped as you touched both of his cocks, and groaned when you brought both of them to your lips. He was relieved you accepted the otherworldly nature of them without any hesitation, and were even eager to pleasure him.

With both of his cocks in your mouth, you quickly realized that they, especially the smaller one, leaked more precome than expected, perhaps to make up for the lack of lubrication underwater. The salty taste filled your mouth as you circled your tongue around the larger tip, the smaller one pushing against your tongue and stimulating itself. Its movements made your heat clench at nothing again, and you wondered. How would this feel like if he fucked you now?

Rafayel gathered all your hair that was floating underwater, and held it behind your head. He wanted a clear picture of you sucking on his cocks and by God did he want to thrust himself deep into your mouth at the sight. But he relented. You were still new to this and he rather not risk you choking while underwater.

Pulling away from his cocks, you resurfaced one more to admire them from afar, only to be assaulted by another kiss. 

Rafayel had enough of his mate being so far from his embrace, he needed you in his arms and on his cock, now. Tugging you towards him again, he maneuvered you so that you would be flush against his cocks, making sure you knew what was in store for you moments later.

Unlike last time where he would grind against you however, he reached down to prod your entrance, spreading your folds with his fingers. You expected him to slip his fingers in but instead, a familiar, yet not, sensation crept in, massaging your soft walls.

“You can control it.” You gasped once realization kicked in, staring at him in bewilderment. He merely blinked in response, and nuzzled the crook of your neck.  

“Does that disgust you?” He asked. While you couldn’t see his face, you could feel him tense up, his grip on you unrelenting.

“No! Nothing like that. I was just wondering… What else can it do?” 

At your reassurance, he relaxed and continued to nuzzle your neck, nipping at your skin. “You will have to find out.”

“What–”

He pulled the smaller cock away from your heat, and had it latch onto your clit. You whimpered as he teased your clit, its smooth tip and small bumps running along its side sending pleasurable shivers down your spine.

Rafayel ran a finger up your entrance while you were distracted, and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Right. He needed to drain the water around the both of you before he tried anything. The water would wash all of your juices away otherwise and make this experience entirely uncomfortable for you.

He tugged at the stopper and let the water drain away, leaving just enough water for part of his tail to be soaked in water. As the water level dropped, more and more of your skin was exposed to him; the water droplets that clung onto your skin and slid down your body taunted him. 

With the water gone and out of the way, you could finally see clearly what his cocks looked like above water. And they did not disappoint. 

The amount of precome that dripped out and down his smaller cock was staggering, coating and smearing your clit with every twitch of it. His larger cock was the same as well, precome beaded on the round tip of it before sliding down the ribbed sides, his shaft glistening under the low light. 

“Do you like them?” He asked, parting your dripping folds and slipping a finger inside as his smaller cock busied itself with your clit. Your sweet whimpers made both of his cocks throb, and he couldn’t wait to hear your moans when he pushed both of them inside you.

He added another finger, burying it deeper within you as you rode his fingers, your hips having a mind of its own. You were starting to get used to the two different cocks when suddenly, his smaller cock shifted, resting your clit against a dimpled surface and–

“Mmh–!” You whimpered, the realization of him not only having ridges along his cocks, but also having suckers of all things, hit you with full force. It felt similar to having his mouth sucking on your clit, and you fleetingly wondered what if his smaller cock slipped in and sucked on your walls as well.

As though reading your mind, he stopped teasing your clit with it, and slid it inside you, adding what effectively was another finger into the mix, stretching you and satiating that growing ache to have something inside you.

You moaned as his fingers slipped in and out of you, the juices from your heat and his precome mixing together and dripping out of your core. While his smaller cock wasn’t as sensitive as his bigger one, the sensations of your walls dragging against his bumpy shaft made his cocks twitch. 

The primal drive to mate, to fuck and to breed coursed through his veins. His instincts screamed at him, demanding him to push his neglected cock in you and breed you properly. It was tempting, too tempting, with you bouncing oh so wantonly on his fingers, your hands holding on to the edges of the bathtub to steady yourself. But he held back. 

As much as he wanted you to ride him while he thrusts his hips in sync to your pace– and God did that thought made another bout of precome drip from both of his cocks– he was afraid of what was in store for you. He knew once he was in, those instincts would take over and you would not be able to reason with him until it was over.

He could feel his control slipping with every heartbeat, the lustful haze that was clouding the edges of his mind seeping into the forefront. It was a challenge, a manageable one, until you curled your fingers around his larger cock.

“Nnh–” He groaned, his cock pulsing in your hand as you stroked the underside of it and traced all the bumps it had. It took him a few steadying breaths not to thrust up and rut against your palm. 

Through a clouded haze, you fixated upon the cock in your hands as you rode the other. It was bulging and pulsing at different places, with some parts flushed deeper blue than the others. You didn’t fully comprehend it yet, the question of whether you can take it all plagued your mind. All you knew that whatever this was, you wanted in you. Now.

“...Are you sure?” Rafayel asked breathlessly as you pulled his fingers and his smaller cock out of you and teased the larger cock with your heat. You drawing circles on his tip with your entrance made him pulsate, staining you with more precome. His hands were now on your hips and he had half a mind to just push you down his shaft in one go.

“I won’t stop until I’m done, you know.” He cautioned again, one final warning before those little slivers of sanity that he had disappeared like foam. His smaller cock caressed your dripping folds and held them to the side, allowing him better access when he inevitably sank you down his eager cock.

“I know.” You responded as you lowered yourself down, slowly taking his cock in inch by inch. It was hot and the throbbing ridges rubbed against your soft walls, forcing more juices to flow out of you. You paused midway to let yourself get used to the foreign feeling, and watched him as he tried to keep his face in check.

Your tight warm walls made it increasingly difficult for him to hold back, especially when you clenched tentatively around him. He understood why you stopped halfway, as his larger cock grew thicker at the lower half until flaring out at the base. But he felt like you were teasing him at this point, with you dragging the upper half of his cock out and pushing it back in over and over again.

“Darling…” He hissed as you rode him, his grip on your hips vice like. Following your lead, he shallowly pumped his larger cock in and out of you, in tune to the pace you’ve set.

The bumps on the side of his cock grazed your clit with every thrust, and before you knew it, you began to take more and more of him in, your folds spread further and further apart with the help of his smaller cock.

The urge to pull back and slam his hips into you the moment you finally, finally, took the entirety of his larger cock in was overwhelming. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp, stuttering breath.

He was fighting a losing battle against his primal instincts, but he had to hold back or–

“Do it.”

Your voice broke through the lust ridden fog that clouded his mind. Did you just give him permission–

“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” You said again, nuzzling the top of his head and patting it. He was tense against you this entire time, strained and a heartbeat away from snapping. You knew he had been waiting for you to be ready, and you couldn’t help but smile at that. 

Coaxing him to finally let go of whatever inhibitions he had, you clenched your walls around him once more, forcing a quiet moan out of him. “Please Rafayel… Please fuck me.”

And like a light switch flipping, he dragged his larger cock out without warning, only giving you a second to process before slamming back into you. Every thrust filled you to the brim, and you could feel his hot precome leaking and spreading all over your walls as he thrusted.

“Rafayel– Mmh–” You moaned between open mouthed kisses, his lips capturing yours every time you managed to slip away. One of his hands held you in place as he fucked upwards into you, while the other palmed at your breast, tweaking and brushing over your nipple as your breasts bounced to the pace he had set. You had to wrap your arms around his shoulders then, or else you would’ve toppled at the sheer intensity of his thrusts.

At some point, when you cannot pinpoint exactly anymore, his smaller cock pulled away from your folds and prodded your entrance, slipping inside and pushing against your tight heat. The sudden intrusion forced your half lidded eyes open, and before you could mention it, the suckers dotted on the underside of his smaller cock grazed your walls, gently sucking on you from the inside.

Rafayel listened attentively to your moans as he sucked on the skin of your neck, leaving numerous bites and markings on you. His rational mind was now gone, replaced by his need to pleasure and breed his beautiful mate. He nuzzled your neck once more, your lovely moans encouraging him to keep going, spurring him on.

The steady tension that was building within your abdomen threatened to snap with every heartbeat, and you could feel yourself being close, so close, to that high that Rafayel was pushing you towards. You couldn’t help but move your hips along to his erratic rhythm, anything to get yourself closer to that point.

As though sensing your desperation, which was not difficult considering your walls fluttered more and more around him, clenching and squeezing him oh so sinfully, he pulled his smaller cock out of your heat and grinded the underside of it against your clit.

“Rafayel–!” The sensation of his suckers pulling at your clit drove you over the edge. Like a coil snapping under pressure, your heat tightened around his cock as you reached that high, clenching and spasming around it.

“My mate…” He breathed out, not once stopping to give you a break as you navigated through the pleasure he brought to you. The way your walls clasped around him as you were pushed over the edge brought his own high forward, forcing a growl past his lips as he suddenly pushed both of his cocks as deep as he could within you before letting his come spill over, releasing as much as he could inside you. 

He didn’t stop there however, he continued to pump his cocks deep into you, hoping to push his essence deeper inside with a few more unsteady thrusts.

As you paused to regain your breath, he pulled away from your neck and brushed the hair that fell messily on your face away, and kissed you as tenderly as possible. 

He looked calmer now, content even, compared to how he was before. The tension that was present on his shoulders and eyebrows was gone, dissipated along with the apprehension that he had about showing you the entirety of his original form.

A sudden glint in the corner caught your eye. It was your phone, its screen turning on most likely because of someone texting you. Next to it was your belongings and–

Oh. You forgot about the ice.

“You should’ve told me this was going to happen instead of making me buy ice for you.” You laughed, seeing that the bags of ice had now turned into bags of water with ice chips in it. They weren’t that expensive so you didn’t really mind, but the time you spent scouring shops that were still open close to midnight was now rendered unnecessary.

Rafayel kissed your cheek and nuzzled you, still basking in the afterglow under the moonlight. “...I was scared you would reject me.” He confessed, still clinging onto you like a lifeline. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

You were about to ask how he would do that when you were acutely reminded of his cocks still being inside you, still stiff and ready for another round.

“How–”

“It is mating season after all.” He simply replied, and you noted that his eyes suddenly had a predatory glint to them, making your heat clench again and your heart race. 

“You, my darling mate… are going nowhere.”

#love and deepspace #love and deep space #love and deepspace rafayel x reader #love and deep space rafayel x reader #uh. yeah. theres tentacle #i dont even main this guy and YET #this idea was living in my brain rent free so i had to write it out

[smalls-words]

Dancing In Pyjamas

Summary: Y/N and Hermione have been friends ever since they met in first year. But with a tournament involving death, romance and anger, could it turn into something more? Or will their insecurities and misunderstandings be the downfall of what could be the greatest romance story of the century?

Pairings: Hermione Granger x Jock!Fem!Reader, Harry Potter x Reader (platonic), Ronald Weasley x Reader (platonic, little bit of fighting).

Warnings: Studies, slight misogyny (from Ron), tooth-rotting fluff at the end.

A/N: This is my first time writing Hermione! I’m pretty sure she was my gay awakening...

Part 2

*not my gif*

You sat next to Hermione as the practice assignment was held in the hall. Ron was on her left, and Harry on his, whilst you had plenty of space on your right. Your quill scratched on the paper in the back of your book, multiple other dress designs scratched out whilst your final cutout of a feminine outline laid waste to your ideas.

You smirked as Ron got his head shoved back towards his paper by Snape, a caution as he talked to Harry. You weren’t really listening to what the boys said, but Hermione’s words were enough to draw out your attention.

“It might interest you to know that Neville’s already got someone.” She sneered at the boys.

Ron scoffed. “Now I’m really depressed.”

“Oh, please. You wouldn’t know depression unless it hit you in the face like a Bludger.” You smirked, observing Harry’s grin and Hermione’s eye roll.

You watched the twins opposite you hand you a note, gesturing to Ron before you handed it to him. He read it and Fred looked at you, an eyebrow raising whilst you nodded to the side.

He threw a crumpled ball of paper at the girl a few metres away, but you saw the winning grin of the older Weasley and knew he’d pissed off Ron.

“Oy Hermione… you’re a girl…”

“Well-spotted.” She retorted.

“You’re dead, Weasley.” You quietly chuckled under your breath.

You ducked just as Snape swiped his hand at Ron’s head, glaring at the four of you whilst he hit Harry’s head too. 

“Well, it’s one thing for a bloke to show up alone… but for a girl, it’s just sad.”

If knives could have come out of eyes, Hermione would be guilty of first-degree manslaughter with at least 58 stabs. “I won’t be going alone because believe it or not, somebody’s already asked me.” She hissed, getting up and handing her book to Professor Snape.

She came back and you gave her a sympathetic look, but she slightly ignored you. “And I said yes.” She snapped at Ron, leaving the hall.

You watched her go, empathy filling your chest as you glared at Ron. He simply stared at you, almost waitingly. “Well? Who are you going with?” He asked.

“Definitely not you.” You chuckled angrily, giving your book to Snape too and he was impressed at your already dried calculations. 

As you walked past Ron and Harry, you clapped the Weasley over the head; but with you being the Gryffindor Beater, that was a pretty hard smack.

You eventually found Hermione in the Gryffindor common room, heading up the stairs towards your shared room. “Granger, wait up!”

She sharply turned on the stairs and looked at you harshly, but you saw right through her. Tears brimmed in the corners of her calming brown eyes, reddening the whites around them before she stormed up the rest of the stairs.

You walked up slowly, knowing she had nowhere to go, and leaned against the stone wall as she sat on the edge of her bed. “Granger…” You sighed, walking up to her as you stripped off your robe.

“What, Y/N?” She hissed, still angry but you knew it wasn’t directed at you.

“Come on, let it out.” You pulled her up onto her feet, opening your arms up to her.

She hugged you tightly, a crack coming from your back even, and you simply enveloped her in your warmth. You held a large height advantage on her, as well as your bulked-up Beater-trained body that allowed her to hold you just how she wanted.

You and Hermione have been friends since first year. Whilst Ron and Harry would be mischievous together and be boys, Hermione would be left alone. She’d often find herself wandering the grounds of Hogwarts, eventually finding you in your oversized Quidditch uniform as you observed the training program. You were a scrawny little thing, only eleven years old, but you were determined. She’d watched you get absolutely beaten up by the Bludgers, many bruises already forming, but what sealed your friendship was simple:

A Bludger had been hurtling towards her face, surely going to knock her out, and you beat it away with your bat. You’d asked her if she was okay, and she thought that she should have been asking you that question. Laughs and giggles were shared before she offered to take you to Madam Pomfrey, who she’d noted down as she memorised the grounds. 

Four long years you’ve been at each other’s sides, and yet here you were, unable to tell her how you feel. 

“You okay?” You muttered, hand on the back of her head as it was tucked underneath your chin.

“I’m better.” She replied, liking the fact that you were warm.

“Good.” You sighed calmly, putting her back on the bed.

“Now, wanna tell me who’s taking you to the Yule Ball?”

“Only if you promise not to tell anyone else.” She pointed a finger at you, which just made you chuckle as you brushed away a loose tear on her cheek.

“Of course. I promise.”

“Viktor Krum.” She stated.

You held back your sigh of defeat. Of course he would have asked her, and of course she would have said yes. The two were so opposite, yet it worked - a big hunk of meat paired with a nerdy, intelligent, beautiful, astonishing, stubborn, childish, witty…

Yeah, that didn’t work.

“Okay.” You replied instead, kissing her temple as you stood upright.

“I’m going to go to Quidditch practice.” 

“Y/N, Quidditch isn’t on this year, remember?” She chided playfully.

You rolled your eyes gently, giving her a calming smirk. “And who says I can’t train?” 

Her tears were now gone, her heart was warm, and a smile was on her cheeks. “Bye, Y/N.”

Your job as her friend was done for now.

----

You now stood with the other Gryffindors as Professor McGonagall explained the Yule Ball Dance, your legs annoyingly tucked together at the knee as you sat next to Hermione. You scowled at Ron as he made a comment about the girl standing behind you, hoping that she didn’t hear what he said.

“Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance. Mr. Weasley…” McGonagall grabbed him and led him to the middle of the room, making you grin devilishly as you flipped him off. 

He was about to do it back, but McGonagall corrected him to put his hand on her waist. The music started via Filch, the traditional waltz making its way into your brain and forcing you to tap your foot along to it. 

You stood up as McGonagall inquired, counting the boys and girls and realising you were outnumbered. You quickly grabbed Hermione and whipped her into your arms, your hand on her waist and the other in her grasp.

“What are you doing?!” She shouted softly with no malicious intent.

“I’m saving you from dancing with someone like Dean or Seamus.” You replied just louder than the music.

You easily led Hermione throughout the dance, twirling her effortlessly before bringing her back into your touch. Your heart was thumping out of your chest and you were glad her head wasn’t resting against you, in fear that she would hear it race.

The laughter and giggles that came from her made your cheeks start hurting from smiling so much, inside jokes and sometimes even stomach-holding cackles made you stop dancing if but for a moment. Hermione eventually smirked at you as she swirled back into you, causing you to question her.

“Oh, it’s nothing… I just didn’t think someone like you knew how to dance to a waltz.” 

“Someone like me?” You questioned.

“Y/N, come on! You seriously can’t expect me to know that you know how to dance?” She chuckled, making you grin as you realised she was teasing you.

“For your information, I tend to watch things from time to time.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, totally.” 

You danced a bit more before McGonagall ushered you all out, your eyes darting to Neville as he spoke with Ginny, smiles on both of their faces. 

“So what are you wearing to the Ball, Y/N? And you still haven’t told me who you’re going with!” Hermione snapped you out of your thoughts with a light slap on your shoulder.

“I’m not telling you, and… I’m not telling you.” You answered with a beaming grin that contrasted her dropped jaw.

“Come on! I told you! And you’ve seen my dress!” She whined, attempting to drag you down by putting some more weight on your arm.

Yet, your step didn’t falter.

“Alright, alright, I’ll entertain you. What do you think I’m wearing, Granger?” You asked as you stepped onto the moving staircase.

She thought hard for a moment; you knew because of the furrow of her eyebrows. “Something dark.”

You nodded. “Well, yes.”

“And something to cover most of you but still leave a few things to the imagination.” She continued. 

You didn’t answer her, choosing to let her keep going.

“And…” She dragged it out, huffing in annoyance. “I don’t know! Just give me one detail!”

“Just one?” You asked for clarification.

“Just one.” She nodded.

“Alright… It’s not red.” 

She was so tempted to shove you over the side of the stairs, but as they connected you to the Fat Lady painting, she just pushed you forwards. “You’re such an ass.”

“I know, right?” You clenched your butt and she let out a true snorting laugh.

You grabbed her by the forearm. “Come on, let’s get ready for dinner before you wet yourself.” 

----

The day of the Yule Ball had come quickly, surprising you all. You sat with Hermione as she changed behind you, your eyes flitting around the room to see anything but the blurred reflection of her naked back.

You could no longer deny your feelings. You wanted to show her your love, to caress every inch of her skin and tell her how beautiful she was. She could hardly see it sometimes, but her call to you to come and help her in front of the mirror was no help at all.

“Can you zip me up please?” She asked sweetly and you nodded, doing so.

You looked back up at the mirror as she let her curls fall back down into place, her hands moving towards the straightener. You quickly put your hand on top, using minimal pressure to guide it back onto the table.

“Y/N, I can’t go out with my curls in this state.” She huffed at you, but you simply ran your fingers through the underside of her scalp.

“Get some bobby pins and some hair ties for me, okay?” You asked her.

She looked you over, still in your sweaty Quidditch uniform, and sighed. She grabbed the necessary items from behind the mirror and watched you shyly as you worked on her hair. Her scalp thanked her for letting you do this, the sensation of your fingers calming her like nothing before.

Then, just like that, you were done. She opened her eyes fully and gasped at what you had done, spinning around to hug you tightly.

“Thank you thank you thank you!”

“It’s nothing, Granger.” You smirked, ushering her out of the bathroom so you could get ready.

----

Hermione stood at the top of the stairs, anxiously awaiting your arrival. You promised her you wouldn’t let her go in alone, even if she wouldn’t be because Viktor would be at her side. After a few more minutes, she took one more glance up at the staircase behind her and sighed defeatedly, making her way down to Viktor.

He stood upright and bowed his head as she met him at the bottom of the stairs, taking his arm as he led her into line. As they walked down through to the main dance floor, she looked everywhere for you, hoping to see what you’d done with yourself.

And there, in the corner by the professors, was you.

She wasn’t alone.

But by the wizarding world, you were stunning.

A dark blue gown hid your legs and shoes, whilst dark blue sleeves did the same for your arms. However, she was starstruck at the impeccable design of an ombré over layer, starting the same dark blue at the shoulders and hips before billowing out into white, with little jewels sewn perfectly on to reflect the light above. Similarly for your eyes, dark blue eyeshadow started just above your mascara-painted eyelashes before gliding into a pristine white. Your hair was tied up in a bun, tight enough to hold it still, all whilst you gave her a kind smirk.

‘You look beautiful.’ She mouthed and you nodded to her in thanks.

‘So do you.’ 

She blushed slightly before the music began and Viktor guided her around the dance floor, letting her dress fill out with air as she spun. Yet, it felt… off. He was strong when he guided her jump, but he was also stiff. His lips were in a smile, but his eyes were somewhere else. His form was correct, but it felt practised.

She didn’t know it, but it wasn’t… you.

She watched you for some of the night, not dancing on the floor with the others all bunched up against you. You were quiet in the corner, just observing and having a bit of food here and there, a drink or two as well. However, noticing Ron and Harry at the other side of your table drew her eyes away from you for a while, which wasn’t quite a nice sensation in your chest.

Yet, watching her dance freely and being herself was more of a reward than doing anything else, even if she was dancing with Viktor. 

Eventually, they came out of the mosh pit, all sweaty and puffing. Viktor pulled her towards the doorway, but she stopped him as she glanced at your table, to which he kissed her hand and told her to meet him at their destination when she was ready. 

And that adorable little spin, accompanied by a smile on her face, made you grin at her. You moved over to the trio, showing Padma and Parvati Patil some very handsome and available Durmstrang boys that were eyeing them. 

Hermione sat down next to Harry, her smile now closed. “Hot, isn’t it?” 

“Granger.” You called her attention from behind the boys, sliding over a glass of water to her.

“Thanks, Y/N.” She gulped it down and you smirked, knowing that your Hermione was slowly seeping through the cracks of this beautiful one.

“Viktor’s gone to go and get drinks. Would you three care to join us?” 

“Sure-”

“No, we’d not care to join you and Viktor.” Ron interrupted you, making Hermione’s face fall flat.

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” She shot at him.

“He’s a Durmstrang. You’re fraternising with the enemy.” He shot back.

“The enemy? Who was it wanting his autograph?” Hermione scoffed.

“Ron, come on. The whole point of the tournament is to make friends with people from other schools.” You nudged him, but he shoved you back harshly to the point that you almost fell out of your chair.

“I think he’s got a bit more than friendship on his mind.” The Weasley growled.

“Are you drunk or some shit?” You growled back at him as Hermione stood up and walked away.

“What?” He asked.

“You just hurt her feelings! She’s been trying to have a nice night, making friends and dancing with her date, and you’ve just killed her mood!” You snapped, tempted to smack him hard this time. 

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes.

You were just about to lose it before Ron stood and moved away, your anger diffusing as you focused on the music whilst sitting next to Harry.

“You look beautiful.” He commented on your dress.

“Thank you - I made it myself.” You patted it down, smiling at him.

Eventually, you made your way to the coat hangers. Ron was grabbing his coat too, coincidentally next to yours and Hermione’s. Once he grabbed it, the beautiful blonde genius walked up next to him, leaving you to trail back and observe.

You never wanted Hermione to feel like you were trying to fight her battles for her. 

“He’s using you, you know.” Ron started.

“How dare you?! Besides, I can take care of myself.” Hermione shot back.

“I doubt it. He’s way too old.” 

“What?! That’s what you think?” 

“Yeah, that’s what I think.” He said as they exited the mystical snow above them into the regular, unenchanted stone walls.

You could hear Hermione’s voice breaking. “You know the solution then, don’t you?” 

“Go on.” Ron egged her on.

“Next time there’s a ball, pluck up the courage and ask me before somebody else does! And not as a last resort.” She scowled.

You stood at the doorway with your jacket folded over your hands, leaning against the wall as you watched Ron try to stammer his way out of his grave. “Well, I-I mean, that’s just- uh… that’s just completely off the point.” 

Harry appeared out of nowhere and you watched as Hermione fell off of the edge, her tears starting to come through harshly at Ron’s last comment. “They get scarier as they get older.” 

“Ron, you spoiled everything!” Hermione started to run towards him but he was already at the top of the stairs, too far for her to go in her heels.

Instead, she sat on the staircase - alone, with tears pouring down her cheeks and obscuring her vision as you settled into it. “Easy, Hermione. That stupid Weasley doesn’t know what he just lost.” 

She felt your thumbs trace over her eyes, sweeping away every tear in either eye to see you more clearly. Your hair was out, albeit swept to one side, and you were adjusting your coat onto her shoulders. “There you go. Easy breaths, in and out. Remember?”

She remembered the vividness of one time where a Bludger had hit you straight into the ribs, winding you to the point of having you land up in Madam Pomfrey’s once more. The blonde witch taught you how to control your breathing, how to calm yourself whenever in a panic, and she remembered the feelings they gave her when you thanked her with a warm hug.

You gently took off her shoes and replaced them with yours, sneakers that nobody had seen because of your long dress. You helped her up the stairs, her shoes in one hand and her waist in the other, and gently took her back to her room.

You scowled at the two boys now residing in the common room, a growing thought on your mind to whip Ron into shape before Hermione held your dress tightly within her fist, shaking her head that leaned on your shoulder. You stopped moving towards him and held her once more, leading her up the stairs. 

You helped her out of her dress, hanging it neatly in the corner whilst sifting through her drawers for clothes that was a futile effort. “I’m just gonna give you some of my clothes, okay?” You told her, to which she nodded.

You dressed her in your shirts and sweats before guiding her to her bed, her eyes momentarily observing the muscles in your back move as you changed. She wanted to do something with them - feel them move beneath her palm - but that feeling was uncertain, so she left it alone. 

“Thank you.” She sniffled as you finished changing yourself.

You brought her up onto her feet for a moment before you hugged her, keeping her nice and warm as a feeling of safety washed over the blonde witch. 

“So…” You started.

She chuckled immediately, pulling away from you. “So…?” 

“We can still hear the music. And I’d love to have at least one dance.” You explained.

“I’d love to dance with my best friend.” She squealed, waiting for you to push away the final tears on her cheeks.

Your heart felt heavier at her words, but you didn’t let it show as you began to dance to the music. Here was where Hermione felt right - your gentle touch guiding her through jumps and spins and twirls, your eyes on her and in the present, your movements fluid and sometimes faltering.

This was her happy place.

You eventually fell onto your bed with her and laughter slowly dissipated into a comfortable silence, which she then spun on her side and looked at you with wide eyes and a hiding grin.

“Yes?” 

“You called me Hermione.” She stated matter-of-factly.

“It is your name, isn’t it? Unless I’m dealing with a Poly-Juiced Malfoy, in which case…” You lifted your fist and slowly moved it towards her face, acting as if in slow-motion.

She chuckled and pushed away your hand, your eyes watching her stand and flop onto her bed lazily. Soon though, she turned back and faced you, your hidden sadness at her movement long tucked away behind a veil of curiosity.

“You never call me that.”

“I was trying to get your attention. Didn’t want you getting a panic attack. No no, we can’t have our brightest little Granger getting stressed over silly Weasley boys.” You smirked at her.

She rolled her eyes playfully before she yawned. “Thanks for helping me.” 

“Always.” You nodded to her, watching her snuggle underneath the sheets for a simple moment of peace. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” She murmured, her eyes shutting slowly as she fell asleep.

“Goodnight… beautiful, beautiful Hermione.” You whispered, closing your own eyes.

#smalls-words #hermione granger #hermione x reader #hermione granger x reader #hermione x you #hermione granger fluff #hermione granger imagine #hermione granger x you #hermione granger x y/n #hermione granger x yn #hermione granger x fem!reader #hermione granger x fem reader

[sumsumstrashbin]

𝐬𝐨𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲 ~ 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 { 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 }

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟖𝟕𝟎

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢𝐝𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐝𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐟𝐫. 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤! 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐯𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐰.𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐝𝐨, 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐳𝐲

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The rumbling of thunder and the quiet pitter patter of raindrops was heard throughout the Gryffindor common room: a place that most students resided in on a gloomy Saturday such as this one. Some found comfort around the warm crackling fireplace with a book in hand, while others lay in their dorms, completely miserable that their precious day off was ruined by the weather. 

You, however, were doing none of the above. Your best friend Lily Evans had dragged you off to the quidditch pitch with her so that she could watch her boyfriend practice with the rest of the team. Being the good friend that you were, you agreed despite the dark looming clouds.

By the time you sat in the stands, the rain had started pouring down on all of you. The captain refused to let the team call it a day, which meant that Lily refused to go back inside. You didn’t want to leave her on her own, so you reluctantly stayed by her side, holding up an umbrella in one hand and a book in the other. 

During the break, Lily headed down to see James, leaving you with some peace and quiet. You loved her to death, but that girl would go on about her boyfriend for hours if you let her. You could hear the team chatting below, but the heavy rain and strong winds were drowning out a lot of the sound. 

Those same strong winds caused your umbrella to fly out of your hand and hit a boy sitting nearby right in the face. You hadn’t even noticed his presence until now. He was also reading, and your umbrella smacked his book right out of his hands, along with a bunch of loose papers. You gasped at the sight, covering your mouth with your hand.

“Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry!” You shoved your own book into your bag, rushing over to help pick up the fallen papers. The wind was picking up most of the pages, causing them to fly out of reach. The boy was sitting there, a bit stunned at what just happened. He watched his papers fly away, though his expression was strangely calm for the situation he was in.

You reached out to hand him whatever papers you were able to save, only then getting a good look at his face. “Lupin! I’m so sorry, truly. The wind- it just came out of nowhere and swept the umbrella out of my hands.”

He took the papers, offering you a warm smile. “It’s alright, accidents happen. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I really hope those papers weren’t important. Were they? You asked, sitting next to him. Despite only being exposed to the rain for a few moments, the rain had thoroughly drenched you in a matter of seconds.

He shuffled closer to you, sharing his own umbrella with you and shaking his head. “Just notes for an exam. I can rewrite them.” 

“That makes me feel so much worse. Notes for an exam are important.” You grimaced, shaking your head in embarrassment. 

“Really, it's no trouble. Though I’m wondering what you’re doing out here, especially on such a rainy day. I saw you with Lily, so I’m assuming she brought you along with her. James and Sirius always force me to come too. I know you aren’t usually at these practices, and you don’t come to many matches either.” He tucked his book and the remaining papers into his bag.

“She begged me to come with her. Otherwise I’d be comfortably enjoying the warmth of my bed right now. But here I am, now soaking wet and shivering because I’m such a great friend.”

“How rude of me. Here, hold this for me?” He handed the umbrella to you before pulling off his coat.

“You don’t have to do that. Especially after I just smacked you in the face with my umbrella.” 

“Nonsense. You’ll catch a cold.” He stated, placing his jacket on your shoulders for some extra warmth before taking the umbrella back.

“I appreciate it, thank you.” You smiled, putting your arms through the sleeves and wrapping the front around yourself. As you inhaled, the smell of cinnamon, parchment, and a distant hint of chocolate filled your nostrils. 

“Have some tea. Surely it’ll warm you up.” He reached into his bag, pulling out a warm thermos. He opened it up, offering it to you. It smelt strongly of cinnamon, and the steam emanating from the top was enticing enough for you to accept it. You sipped it carefully, allowing the warmth of it to settle the chills running through your body.

“You’re too kind, Lupin.” 

“Please, just call me Remus.” He smiled at you, before returning his gaze to the field. It seemed as though practice was resuming, but Lily was still nowhere to be found. “I don’t see James.” He spoke again.

“I don’t see Lily, either. How much would you like to bet they’ve run off somewhere together for a quick snog?”

“Although he’s the team captain, I wouldn’t be surprised at all. He probably told them to get started without him.” He chuckled.

“If they can ditch the practice that we were coerced into coming to, why can’t we?” You inquired, looking at him.

“I suppose you’re right. I do fancy a warm butterbeer right now. Shall we?”

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

#remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #moony x reader #remus lupin au #marauders au #marauders #marauders era #the marauders #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #young remus lupin #young remus x y/n #young remus x reader #young remus imagine

[bombdiggity666]

Here Comes Judgement Day Pt.2

A few years ago, I attempted to draw a fan comic to resolve the ambiguous ending of the MTMTE/LL Comic series. I managed to complete one panel, but lost the other three when my computer crashed.

Now, after some time has passed, I feel encouraged to try again. This time, I've written a multi-part story to better guide my comic.

It's worth noting that when I began this project, I was feeling edgy, so it's all based on the song posted below

A Summary:

Megatron faces his impending execution in Garrus 9. As he reflects on his fate, Ultra Magnus grapples with his role as a witness. Through introspection and discussions with Rodimus, Ultra Magnus ultimately decides to attend the execution as Minimus Ambus, embracing his true self and honouring Megatron's last request. Tensions mount as the time draws near, with Rodimus struggling to cope as Megatron's death approaches.

Was he in a different room now? He couldn’t activate his optics, but the environment felt colder than before. Prickling static sensations danced across his arms and chest. Surprisingly, he could feel another medical program running behind the overbearing corruption code that idled in his systems menacingly. Luckily, its suffocating presence was still dulled by the sedative. This new program, he recognized, was a standard vitals systems check. A quick yet inhibited jolt of his right servo revealed a second medical cable jacked into his wrist port, this one far more comfortable. He huffed a vent to test his surroundings.

"Take Me Away"

Megatron regained consciousness quickly, or so it felt. His heavy-duty engines metabolized narcotics swiftly, especially when deprived—a function that had aided him through many of Starscream’s assassination attempts. As he searched for his chrono, the inability to gauge time reminded him of his current situation. Stirring slightly, he realized he was restrained once again, but this time in a far more exposed position. He lay on a different berth now, a surgical one with arm boards. The hum of the stasis restraints felt stronger; testing them, he found he couldn’t even lift a finger. ‘Do they think they're immobilizing a titan?’ he pondered loosely, his head still spinning with disorientation.

“I know you’re awake,” came a confirmation, not an irritated remark. The muffled voice, unmistakably from Evac, gave his ringing audio receptors something to focus on.

“What-” He was cut short with a static cough, his vocalizer rebooting as slowly as his optics.

“Shh, right here.” He felt a light servo’s touch on his right shoulder, more haunting than comforting.

“You were out of it; I brought you the rest of the way.” The servo ran down his arm, stopping at his wrist to fiddle with the connection.

Unable to respond in a civilized fashion, Megatron's engine subconsciously revved low and primitive in a threat display. The frequency resonated throughout his frame, communicating his irritation efficiently.

“Stop that. It was just me. No one saw. You got here all on your own.” Evac brushed off his display with a smack to his forearm, as if such behavior from him didn’t bring opponents in the pits shaking to their knees.

Where was here? His frustration grew.

“Okay, just let me…” He could hear typing, “There, try now.”

His optics onlined with the assistance of Evac’s manual start-up code. The room slowly cleared into focus. His revving engines stalled.

The execution chamber.

He was bound at a slight incline, his frame fully exposed to a viewing window where live witnesses would soon be sitting. The room had a solemn feel, nowhere near the clinical setting as before. A dull light lit the immediate area around them, but Megatron couldn’t spot the source, just glad that it wasn’t above him like an interrogation or operating room. He glanced to his left; the uncomfortable cable was still spooled and strapped to his wrist. A loose end hung ominously, but still unconnected to whatever equipment held the kill code.

“Hey,” Evac tried to pull his attention softly, using her servo to redirect his optics.

Megatron groggily gazed up at her. She must work with sparkling’s with how effectively she corrals his attention away from unpleasantries.

She sat near the right of his helm, monitoring the large screen exhibiting his vitals. The displays left nothing to the imagination: spark pulse, processor activity, fuel consumption ratios, all of it on display for the viewers. He doubted any of it was legitimate medical monitoring.

Looking past her smile to the screen, he could see a diagram of his own frame. It was spinning slowly, with certain pieces of his armor colored red. ‘Strange,’ he thought. All bots of Tarnish origin exhibited some degree of leucism, him being mostly affected with the exception of red pigmentation of his upper arm plating and abdominal vents. This model was wrong; he didn’t have red wrist or chest plating. In fact, he didn’t have wrist armor at all at the moment…

Oh.

No.

He gawked, stunned, as the realization of what he had seen washed over him. Evac noticed his expression changing.

“No no no, don’t-“

But her warning came too late. He dropped his helm in a lightning-quick reflex which should have been inhibited. He nearly threw Evac out of her seat as she attempted to grab his faceplates.

His Spark was exposed, pulsing and spinning fast, it bathed the room in an ebb of twisting light. His chest plating gone. Removed entirely. He was utterly exposed, freezing cold, and completely vulnerable. A touch could kill him right now.

He heard Evac speaking, though neither words nor tone registered. Distantly, he felt the medibot pulling at him, trying to get him to lay back down. Despite both physical and chemical restraints, she didn’t have hope in the Pits of moving him. The glare of his spark lit his reflection in the field of the viewing window, catching him by surprise. Barely recognizing himself as he had never before been forced to examine his appearance; especially in such a position. In the mines, mirrors were nonexistent. Any Pit mech who glanced at the monitors for even a nanosecond in the arenas where slaughtered. He never paid any mind with Autobot propaganda…

It wasn't until the Necro world, standing before the statue of his youth that he truly understood the monstrosity he had become. A cold calloused war monger, hungry for control and blinded by it.

But now? He looked frail. Bare. Weak. Yet, he was closer to his true self than he had been in millions of years.

The hardest part wasn’t seeing his exposed lifeforce or his restrained frame. The hardest part was staring into his own optics and finally seeing that once youthful face. The face that once held the resolve and determination for a better world. The naive slave from Tarn who had once foolishly thought he could change the world with his rhetoric. He couldn’t see the monster anywhere, and with the clarity of it, he felt the urge to apologize for failing them both. A bitter smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. ‘I know you wanted to change the world,’ he mused.

‘And you did,’ he recalled his session with Rung on the Lost Light. ‘But not for the better.’

“No,” he murmured. “But now…” his optics softened, losing focus on his reflection before offlining as he slowly rested his helm back against the berth. “For the better.”

Evac remained silent, unsure of what to say. Words seemed inadequate in the face of Megatron's internalized closure. He seemed to be coping well. She reached out and placed a servo firmly on his clavicle plating, messaging her thumb along the unnatural coolness of the metal beneath her touch. Megatron didn’t flinch, so they stayed like that for as long as they could, the weight of their shared silence hanging heavily in the air.

She glazed over at the chrono on the monitor before sighing lightly, leaning in close to whisper into his audio receptor.

“It’s time”

A bell sounded, stirring them from the peaceful silence.

---

Cycles blurred together after Rodimus’ final conversation with Megatron, the weight of sleeplessness pressing down on him like a relentless burden. Though he was well aware there was never going to be an out between the two verdicts, he clung to a faint hope for some kind of miracle. Megatron always seemed to conjure those when backed into a corner. Downing the rest of his engeX, he slammed the container down to join the mounting pile at his side.

The oil house was bustling tonight, everywhere was, streets, parks, fragging libraries were ablaze with hollering, singing, and dancing in celebration and anticipation for the viewing of Megatron’s execution. The enormous monitors, typically reserved for sporting or political broadcasts, stood ready, awaiting the live transmission of the ‘event’ from Garrus 9. Rumor had it that the council would likely declare this day a new Cybertronian holiday. 'Sick,' he thought, sarcasm thick on his glossa. He could fix that. He waved down the bartender, gesturing towards his empty pile of Engex containers, indicating his displeasure with a circling motion of his finger. 'Keep them coming,' he thought, not trusting his voice right now after his conversation with Minimus resulted in a good sob-fest out in the back alley. It was hard to maintain his composure in a bar full of retired Autobots and neutrals; being on the verge of black-out drunk was somewhat helpful, or so he thought.

The bartender placed a glass down in front of him with a concerned look. “You wanna slow down there, kid? The slagging screening hasn’t even started yet, and you’re 12 deep.”

Rodimus scoffed in indignation, his servo rising to his chest in offense. “I can count, my guy.” Dodged that one like a pro. The bartender rolled their optics as they whisked away, too busy to babysit a drunkard on a day like today.

He swirled the liquid in the glass, unsure of what else to look at. He was too drunk to hide all his feelings and fought to avoid catching optics with anybot. He really shouldn’t have come here today, but he thought being around others might help him through the process. That their excitement might rub off on him. A true extrovert at spark. Honestly, he just didn’t want to be alone…

A soft servo landed gently on his back. ‘Or maybe I did,’ he deliberated.

“You’re hard to find when you want to be found.”

Rodimus paused, processing the vague and confusing attempt at a pick-up before slamming his servos to the countertop of the bar, nearly spilling his Engex, and knocking several empties over. Hopefully this display was enough to dissuade any other onlookers from approaching; he wasn’t in the mood for flirtatious conversation right now, too drunk and distraught. Spinning around in his seat, he attempted to address this bold bot directly.

“Who would fragging be looking in the first pl-“ He was caught off guard immediately.

Drift stood behind him with a soft, sorrow-filled smile and a consuming presence of warmth. He didn’t move his servo from Rodimus’s back kibble; instead, he applied more comforting pressure, sprawling his fingers to cover more area. Rodimus continued to stare, confounded, his intake opening and closing as he chewed over words. He had not spoken to anyone in person since the sentencing, purposely isolating himself in his pain until his dumbfounding decision to be here today. He had specifically hidden from Drift, as he didn’t think he would be able to understand his conflicting emotions over Megatron’s Verdict. He shrunk in on himself suddenly, and after a moment, he managed a shaky question.

“…Minimus?”

“Ratted you out, yes,” Drift soothed, moving to sit in the seat next to Rodimus’s hunched frame, nonchalantly pushing the empty Engex containers off the bar with his forearm, earning a scathing glare from the bartender across the counter. He seethed back with equal intensity momentarily, enough of a threat to make the bartender turn on his heels.

Rodimus stared down at his drink, optics spacing out in broken thought. “You didn’t…” he quickly brought the glass to his intake to shoot it down, conversation was difficult. “You don’t need to-”

“Yes, I do.” Drift hushed assertively, placing a servo over the glass of Engex Rodimus was preparing to down, easing it back to the countertop with little convincing.

Rodimus looked at him from the corner of his optics, unwilling to turn his whole body. A prickle of shame sprouted somewhere distantly in his mind, which was silly; Drift had definitely seen him in much more embarrassing states. However, being in such a drunk grief over a bot who murdered little over half the known galaxy, including himself at least once, probably came pretty close to ‘taking the cake’. Drift was Ex-Decepticon, he likely knew the spell Megatron casts on ones psyche. When their goals aligned, that is.

“We are still a team, you know,” Drift lightly shoulder checked him in camaraderie, hoping to capture Rodimus' full attention. It didn’t work, so he persisted. “Even without the Lost Light. Without a mission, without an adventure, I’m still on your team. Whatever happens today, tomorrow, cycles from now, I’m going to be on your team.”

A flicker of a grin flashed on Rodimus’s faceplates as he offlined his optics. After a moment, he scrunched his facial plates and dropped his helm to the bar counter with a resounding thunk. Drift looked up apologetically to the patrons it may have startled. After throwing his whole arm across Rodimus’s shoulders as he pulled himself closer and leaned into his audio receptor. “And teams are stronger together,” he said, placing his hand over Rodimus’s, squeezing it in a grounding manner. “So we are going to do this together, understand?”

A snort, or perhaps a strangled sob from Rodimus, was muffled by the metal of the counter, his shoulders jerking, concealed from onlookers by Drift’s supporting arm.

“…Thank you,” Rodimus murmured, rolling his head slightly towards Drift. “You're too good to me.”

-----

From across the oil house in a darkened hallway, Ratchet stood leaned against the wall as he watched Drift console the hot mess of his former captain. There on 'standby', he had no intentions of taking part in today's celebrations. Not that he didn’t agree with it, just done with the war and all of the remnants of it. To see a society so excitable over the death of another bot filled him further with pessimistic bitterness. To him, it was just another bot dying for nothing. No progress would be made of it.

Despite his bitter nihilism, Ratchet cared deeply for a select few and how this would affect them. Drift predominantly, and if Drift was worried about Rodimus, well then he was worried about Rodimus too.

There was a buzz of static and a flash of light which blared from the monitors, resulting in an uproar from the crowds gathered in both the oil house and throughout the streets. Bots flooded in closer to the screens as the voice of a council orator began to speak.

Ratchet cursed, swinging his head away in disdain. He had no interest in watching this garbage today; he had seen enough death in his lifetime, so watching a screening of it on his free-time would be absurd. He glanced back to where Drift was consoling Rodimus. His cold spark pinged slightly at the state of him. Such an impressionable bot, getting so unhealthily attached to anything that remotely resembled a parental figure. Disgusting that Megatron was ever given the chance in the first place. Optimus set the poor kid up to hurt before promptly dying there after. Idiot.

He looked back again towards the monitor, following Rodimus’ saucer-optics stare to find Megatron, restrained with spark exposed. He was slightly taken aback by it. He never imagined a day where he would see Megatron so tolerant of such ministrations to his frame. Than again, he never anticipated seeing the day Megatron renounced Decepticonism either. As a doctor, such imagery had little effect on him, he’d seen bots in such position of vulnerability millions of times; However, for Rodimus, it was likely quite distressing. ‘For the love of Primus,’ he thought, as if his scolding thoughts could reach Megatron’s processor. ‘Don’t you dare make this any worse for Rodimus.’

-----

The resonating ting of his pattering steps down the metal corridor was comically light. Minimus pressed on with speed and purpose, his frame devoid of Magnus armor now, though it wouldn't matter; they already had his spark signature on file. He marched towards the witness hall, attempting to subdue the pit in his tanks with a false air of superiority. Passing two guards, who stared for far too long with dumbfounded expressions, he noticed their perplexed glances shifting between him and their scanner before they yelled out after him.

“Hey, you! State your role and purpose-”

“That would be 'Excuse me, Sir'!” he chastised, spinning around aggressively.

Approaching him somewhat cautiously, the guards looked down at their spark scanner while also placing servos on their weapons. “These scanners are saying that you are Ultra Mag-“

“That is because I AM Ultra Magnus,” he declared, his servos landing on his hips as he leaned forward in a posturing position. “And you are keeping me from my assigned role as a witness to the execution. Which I better not miss.”

The two guards exchanged confused glances. One of them pressed a finger to their audial, undoubtedly sending out a com. Minimus realized this was not going to be as simple as he thought.

“Forgive us, uh, sir?” One of the guards began, patronizingly. “But you are going to need to step aside and-”

“WHAT?” Minimus roared, holding out his identifier tag now. “Two spark scans and an identifier code, and you still don’t accept-“

“You don’t look anything like Ultra Magnus,” one guard interrupted, moving around Minimus to box him in.

“Yeah,” the other guard accused bluntly. “You’re looking more like a Decepticon minibot to me.” He reached down quickly, snatching Minimus’s upper arm with a powerful jerk.

Really?! How astoundingly racist. Were his red optics enough to be considered a Decepticon? Three authentication procedures be damned?

“Release me this instant! This is a major violation under- URK!” A fist smashed into his left faceplate, sending him whirling to the floor, his frame skipping twice off the metal.

“Shut up, a MAJOR violation would be impersonating a senior officer. Pick him up.”

Dazed from the hit, Minimus struggled to prop himself up, his servo lifting to his olfactory sensors only to come away bloodied in fresh energon. Distantly, he heard a bell ringing, and with stark realization, he knew that it was the start of the Execution screening. He only had minutes now.

“No,” he coughed, attempting to move towards the noise. Rough servos clasped his shoulder plating hard enough to dent the metal, lifting him clean off the ground. “You’re making a mis-“ a punch to his abdominal plating had him keeled over, peds not even touching the floor.

“Let’s get him out of here quick, I wanna watch that fragger die in real-time,” one guard murmured to the other, dragging Minimus in the opposite direction of the Witness room.

“No… wait,” he pleaded weakly, unable to catch a vent as his bent fans kept stalling.

“At ease!” An approaching voice hollered from behind them. The two guards stopped immediately, standing tall and leaving Minimus dangling in the air, fans clicking and vents hitching. He knew that voice…

“What is all of this about, soldier? Explain.”

The smarter of the two began, stuttering over their words at first. “Sir! We found this Decepticon trying to infiltrate the witness hall, claiming to be Ultra Magnus, Sir!”

“Ultra Magnus, huh?” the voice began to round on him with the speaker almost in his line of view. “Definitely doesn’t seem to fit the build, now does he?” The bot stepped in front of him. Minimus cowered slightly. Prowl. He and Prowl haven’t exactly been seeing ‘optic to optic’ as of late. Their relationship had soured further with Minimus’ appointment to Megatron’s case. Now would be a perfect time for Prowl to do what he does best. Act out about it.

“…Prowl...please,” he wheezed.

“Would we know each other, little bot?” Prowl teased while leaning down, olfactory sensors remaining high and mighty. He smirked. Minimus's spark sank.

“I- I know we have never agreed on methods, Prowl,” he started, his voice still shaky. “I-”

“-Was just going to stroll into a live broadcast and shatter the legend for everyone on Cybertron, and on such a joyous, sought-after day? All to make your best friend happy? How incredibly selfish, Minimus,” Prowl spat venomously in a mocking sneer, leaning in close to minimize what his underlings heard.

“Magnus, the Armor, I’m done with it. Through,” Minimus continued, hissing through dentae at the effort. ”After today, we can go our separate ways.”

“I think we can do that right now, actually,” Prowl smirked, standing to his full height. “Brig this Decepticon sympathizer, I’ll deal with him after the show,” he ordered the two guards before turning back to the execution chamber. “I don’t want to miss Megatron’s face when he realizes you’re not coming.”

“NO, PROWL,” Minimus thrashed, kicking but unable to land anything substantial. No longer having might on his side, he had to think. He had to think of something fast. What would work on someone as cynical, calculating, and arrogant as Prowl?

Blackmail.

“Overlord!” Minimus shouted, craning his neck back towards the direction Prowl was walking. He stopped abruptly. Listening.

*I am aware of your involvement with the release of Overlord, Who is still out there! Don’t you think for a second that anyone has forgotten* Minimus commed, the blackmail would fall short if others listen in.

 *As I recall, your crew played an unmistakable role in that…Mishap* Prowl didn’t move, back stiff. Calculating.

*Under your direction, discretion, and trusted advisement. Overlord was a prisoner assigned to you and you foremost.* Minimus bit back, he was getting further and further away. He could hear the orator beginning to read out the jury’s sentencing.

*And?* Prowl spat back, turning his head to glance, a sliver of blue shining from his silhouette.

*Nobody needs to know* There was no reply. Minimus panicked briefly, knowing any further discussion or clarification would ruin the offer. He just needed Prowl to take the hook.

“Drop him,” Prowl commanded to his bots after careful consideration. Mimimus hit the ground hard, crumpling to his knees. He could hear Prowl approaching quickly. “Dismissed,” he hissed with a wave of his servo. The guards nodded, continuing their march down the hall. Before he could rise, a ped slammed into the crease of his back painfully, pinning him back down into a crouched position.

“You’re going to go in there, make googly optics at your genocidal BFF, watch him die, and then I am never going to see you again. Do you understand?” Prowl leaned down to whisper the threat directly into Minimus’ audio receptors.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way…” Minimus grunted, shrugging Prowl’s ped off his back. A rag fell to the floor in front of his face.

“You tripped on your way here, smashed your face into the bulkhead. You needed a minute to look presentable. That is why we are late,” Prowl hummed as he walked away.

Minimus took the rag, dabbing the drying energon from his faceplates as he rose shakingly to his peds. Perhaps he was a Decepticon sympathizer, he thought as he began to limp after Prowl’s steady steps.  Never has he ever thought so lowly of the Autobot peacetime they had created.

#transformers #MTMTE #mtmte minimus ambus #mtmte ultra magnus #mtmte megatron #mtmte rodimus #mtmte drift #transformers mtmte #mtmte ratchet #mtmte prowl #prowl #transformers drift #drift #ratchet #megatron #minimus ambus #idw transformers #transformers fanfiction #macaddams #macaddam #Spotify

[songmingisthighs]

Ignominy

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. v - kokomo

hybrid!san × human!reader

buy me coffee ?

everyone wants to belong, it's basic human need to connect with people around them. what happens when you're responsible for someone who belongs to two worlds but at the same time belongs to neither ? worst part is, what happens when it's your ex ?

In the arms of Jongho, you didn't feel much different than everyone around. And with the flute of champagne in your hand, you honestly felt much much lighter than you initially was when you just arrived.

"Remind me, how did you manage to convince me to accompany you to this event?" You asked before taking a sip of the champagne. Jongho took a sip from his flute as well before answering you, "I promised you that I'll do a Marvel marathon with you," he said, leaning down closer to you, "and that I'll buy your beer for the next three outings." You furrowed your eyebrows and pursed your lips, "I thought you said five," you questioned, recalling what Jongho told you.

Unfortunately, Jongho avoided your question as he perked up and called someone over.

You looked in the direction of the person Jongho called only to see a handsome man, he looked older than Jongho and dressed to the tens. There was an aura of authority around him and you couldn't deny that at that moment, you were attracted to him.

"Seungcheol hyung," Jongho pulled him into a tight one-arm hug before pulling away and introducing you both, "Hyung, I want you to meet my date, (y/n), she's unemployed and drinks like a sailor. (y/n), this is my cousin Choi Seungcheol, he's the VP of another family business and he's finally showing his face after... Three? Four years of being abroad?" Jongho said, grinning proudly at his cousin.

After giving Jongho the stink eye, you faced Seungcheol with the biggest, widest grin you can muster and offered your hand for him to shake, "Don't mind Jongho, he's annoyed that he couldn't actually get any girls to go with him tonight so he decided to be a sore loser about it," you said in a sweet tone. Seunghceol laughed heartily and took your hand in his, shaking it, "Damn, so you're telling me you're just doing Jongho a favour?" he teased, side-eyeing Jongho. The man in question huffed and smack his cousin lightly on his shoulder, "Hey, don't make it sound like I'm such a loser, I could've taken anyone tonight but I wanted (y/n) to mingle with business people!" he defended himself. You faked a mocking coo and pat him gently on the head, "Aww, sure you can, buddy. We're so proud of you," you teased and smirked when you saw his left eyebrow twitch.

Your focus accidentally shifted past Jongho and you couldn't help but swallow the lump that appeared in your throat out of nowhere when you locked eyes with San.

You hadn't seen him since four or five years ago. The last time you both were in the same room was after you both lost your virginity to each other. You remember that day clearly like it was just yesterday. You remember getting your high school diploma and then running away from your friend group and him from his own friend group to have a romantic day to celebrate. It had been in both of your plans to have sex for the first time ever with each other and you both agreed that the perfect time to do it was when you both finally stepped into adulthood. Hand-in-hand, you both spent the day taking pictures, eating, lying on the grass of the Han River next to each other making plans for the future, and come evening, having your way with each other for the first time ever.

Above all, you remembered how San almost choked you to death and then later on, woke up in the hospital with bruises all over your body, unable to speak. You waited and waited but San never came to visit you. Heck, he disappeared into thin air, never to be heard from anymore. Well, not by you anyways. And despite being best friends with his cousin, Jongho, you never dared ask about him because why would you wanna know anything about the man that only gave you pain and didn't even have enough balls to take responsibility?

Immediately, you averted your gaze to look at Seungcheol with a smile, "So, Seungcheol, how good is your drinking skill?"

On the other side of the room, San's palm began to sweat. He had been uncharacteristically jittery ever since he stepped into the hotel parking lot and he didn't know why. Thinking that his meds were wearing off, he took a dose of his heat suppressant but it still did nothing. San thought that maybe he was nervous because of the scale of the party and the guests and heck, even the fact that his grandpa was there.

It didn't even take long for him to spiral out even more when he saw that you had come with Jongho. To be frank, San was so close to leaving earth at that point but Yunho regrounded him by assisting him in talking to the guests who wanted to discuss things with him. Despite the distraction of waves of old men coming up to him trying to ask about his business plan and his feeling over his family's achievement. He never really minded with being the face of the company but at that moment, he wasn't feeling so hot.

Things become even worse for him when he saw you pulling Seungcheol to the side of the bar. WITHOUT Jongho.

"Dude, are you okay?" Yeosang asked, tapping on San's shoulder which made the man jump slightly despite it being a light tap. San's hand instinctively pulled at his collar from discomfort. It took a lot from San to avert his gaze from you and his obviously hot cousin whom he hadn't seen in a long while. Damn it, why is he back now and right when you're finally in the same room as his again?

Although he wanted to say all that, his body was not letting him have his feelings. So San let out an exhale, fixed the lapels of suit and gave Yeosang a tight-lipped smile, "Nothing, can we move from this spot? I think I saw the guy we signed a deal with two years ago," he said, nodding his head to the other direction. Though unsure, Yeosang knew that it was unwise to unload San's feelings at that moment so he just went along with whatever San wanted. "Sure thing, we can- Mingi?" Yeosang turned to look for Mingi only to see the tall man trailing away, seemingly following someone with the tray of sliders. "Damn it," Yeosang groaned, turning to Wooyoung who was making eyes with a hybrid paralegal nearby, "Can you please focus? We lost a guy to food, we need to stay sharp for San," he said. Hearing him say this, San felt bad. He was basically being babysat by his friends and it was humiliating for him. But he couldn't do anything, not when he himself realized that he was not in an emotionally stable state.

With one last glance at your direction, San walked away to circulate the room, hoping that he might get to talk to you again after so long.

You, on the other hand, were trying not to choke on the shot you just downed. Seeing you trying to bite down you grin as some alcohol dribbled down your chin, Seungcheol easily inhaled his own before he pointed at your chin, "No, that's cheating, you're losing like half of that shot just by being clumsy," he stated. You put the now empty shot glass on the table and stared at Seungcheol with an incredulous look, "Excuse me? I downed that one whole shot, you saw me!" you defended. But Seungcheol shook his head at you, briefly taking a moment to flag down the bartender and put two of his fingers up, indicating that he wanted two more shots, "Nope, doesn't count," he smirked. Once the bartender came back with two shots that he placed in front of you both. You took the shot glass that was placed in front of you and swirled it slightly, "Do you do this often?" you asked, peering over to Seungcheol through your eyelashes, "What?" He asked, "Doing shots at parties with a girl?" Seungcheol raised an eyebrow at you and he suddenly repositioned himself, moving so that he was leaning closer to you. The lack of chairs or stools on the bar allowed him to be free with his movement and position. "Girl? No. Pretty girls? Yes," he winked as he took his shot glass and pressed it to his mouth. You shook your head in disbelief, trying to be aloof but the smirk on your lips made it apparent that his words had affected you, "Smooth," you stated simply as you gulp your own shot.

When you lowered the shot glass from your lips, you saw Seungcheol staring at you. It was at that moment that you realized how beautiful his orbs and lashes are. "What?" You asked, feeling awkward all of a sudden, not used to being stared. Well, not used to being stared by a guy as handsome as he anyways. "You got, uh... You got a little something," He then proceed to put his shot glass back on the bar and he gently cupped your chin. Your eyes widened at the sudden touch and your body became stiff.

Just as Seungcheol was about to do something, a commotion broke that snapped you both from being so immersed with each other and made you jump away from each other.

From the middle of the crowd, you can see some people moving around frantically until the people around you stepped to the sides to reveal someone on top of another person. There were several people trying to separate them but the person on top seemed to have the upper hand. It wasn't until the person on top finally lifted his head that you realized that it was San on top of a middle-aged businessman. Your eyes widened in shock and San's too. Maybe it was you imagining things, but you could've sworn that when he realized you were looking at him, San's body relaxed and his hands lost their grip on the middle-aged man. People took notice of that as well and one person took that moment to his advantage. He grabbed San up by the arm and dragged him away, their trail was covered by two more guys as people only started to gather around to tend to the middle-aged man once they were sure that San was no longer around. The area was nothing short of chaos with people running around getting ice and making space, and the whole nine yards. It had started to overwhelm you, to be frank.

Thankfully, you saw Jongho jogging towards you once San was taken away and out and once he got close, he pulled you away to the sidelines. "Geez, I thought that was you," Jongho said, exhaling in relief. Confused, your eyebrows scrunched, "What are you talking about, I was with Seungcheol this whole time. You left me alone with him, you jerk," you scoffed. Jongho simply rolled his eyes and gently wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you away from the crowd, "Well, for one thing, I know you tend to do stupid shit when you're drunk and you've been inhaling shots like it was fucking caprisun," he stated, looking at you pointedly, "Second, I don't want you to get hurt, okay?" and you smiled gratefully at Jongho's consideration over your safety.

"Can we go somewhere... Less crowded? This feels uncomfortable for me," you smiled sheepishly at him. Lucky for you, he grinned widely and nodded in agreement, wordlessly guiding you away once again. But as you walked away with Jongho, you couldn't help but let your eyes trail over where San and his friend disappeared to. You had never seen him like that but maybe he just had changed over the years. The sweet boy you once knew maybe has been replaced by someone you act without thinking. Whatever it was, you don't think that you liked it. Not even one bit. Especially not when he looked like he was about to hurt someone like he had hurt you a long time ago.

taglist :

@rdiamond2727 @90s-belladonna @kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @miaatiny @shinotani @jayb17 @dreamlesswonder86 @mayonnaisehoeshit @bbymatz @yunhorights @tinybinnie @blaaiissee @yunhobug @kwanisms @yoongiigolden @kpopnightingale @maddiebabyxoxo @dea-nimus @meowmeowminnie @x-bluee @itsbeeble @gxlden-bxbyy @charreddonuts @starjoongie1117 @x-woozi @jwnghyuns @marvelous-imagines-for-all @baguette-atiny @jessi-outdated @dogsongy @kirooz @ateezourstars @memorymonster @yoonguurt

@justbaozi25 @idjitscentral @angelicyeo @jackinmyarea @cutie-wooyo

@glitterystarlightmeow

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez social media #ateez social media au #ateez smau #ateez social media u #ateez fanfic #kpop #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop imagines #kpop social au #kpop social media au #kpop smau #kpop fanfic #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #smt social media au #smt smau #smt ignominy

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: blood, wounds, violence, death, grief, loss of a parent, implied sa references/fear of touch due to Inej's trauma

Note: This kinda got really long out of nowhere and I'm not sure when that happened but hey, hope you enjoy :)

AO3 link

Chapter 18 - Jesper

Jesper was barely in time to stop Inej from smacking into the pavement, catching her shoulders and gently laying her the last few inches instead of letting her fall through them. She shuddered as his hand found the wound on her leg, his fingers almost instantly turning wet with blood. He thought he should probably apply pressure to it - even though the knife was still there, protruding from her flesh at an ugly angle, blood was soaking through her trouser leg and dripping onto the ground - but as soon as he made contact she flinched away. The movement elicited a deep groan from the pain, but Inej just shook her head and seemed to be leaning as far away from him as she could manage from where she lay.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

Jesper began to nod, then paused.

“Is this a… touching-my-leg-makes-it-hurt-more kind of situation, or a don’t-touch-me-at-all kind of situation?”

“Not at all,” she managed, through gritted teeth and a tight breath.

“Okay,” Jesper nodded, shuffling back a little, “Okay,”

But he wasn’t sure what to do now. He had to get her to Nina - no, he had to get her back to the Slat and have Nina come to them. He couldn’t take Inej to the White Rose. He sent Bolliger and Pim running to fetch Nina, and hoped with such fervour it might have been a prayer that he’d be able to get Inej back home in one piece.

He tried to study the cut for a moment and realised it was worse than he’d thought; the wound with the knife handle still visible was only one of several deep, jagged caverns that had been dug into her leg, and around all of them the ripped edges of her trousers bubbling with blood. The lowest was at her knee but the rest were close together in her thigh. He didn’t see her getting back to the Slat without help. 

“We’ve got to move,” he said, after a second had passed, “If I just help you up, do you think you can walk alone?”

“You came back,” Inej whispered, sounding almost surprised.

“I heard a gunshot,” he said, “The others were steering down the street, I sent Anika and Roeder to the docks and pulled Pim and Bolliger into the fight with me,”

Jesper was still nervous about that decision. It was hazy enough for him and Inej to show up and ask him to trust them on such insane information, but looking at Inej he knew he needed to be here. And the main thing was just that the others got Wylan away from the hired guns and back to the Barrel. 

“You came back,” Inej whispered again.

Jesper tried to force his focus to Inej’s face, and not the throbbing flesh in front of him. He nodded.

“Do you think you can let me help you up? Can you walk?”

A brief moment hung in the air.

“I can try,”

Jesper held his hands out so Inej could choose to take them when she was ready, and she gripped him so tightly he thought the pressure from his rings might break skin. She was clearly holding in a scream as she anchored herself against him to drag her legs beneath her and sit upright. 

“Inej-”

“Just let me try,” she breathed.

Jesper held his arms out at right angles, as stiff as he could make them, and Inej leaned on them like they were the top of a wall she’d climbed as she pulled herself to her feet. He watched her fingers tighten on top of his sleeve, her knuckles almost turning white. As soon as she was standing she released him, took one shuffling step forwards, and very nearly collapsed as her leg buckled and a low, almost angry scream burst from her chest. Jesper  caught her on instinct as hse fell, then quickly pressed her against the side of one of the buildings leering into the alleyway so she could stay upright as he stepped away. She stared at the floor, breathing shakily. Her shadow loomed across the paving stones, disfigured by the dark blotch of the knife handle. Jesper took a slow breath.

“Inej, you’re not going to get back to the Slat like this,” he hesitated, “It’s not a long walk. You can lean on me, and we can take breaks if you need them. Okay?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again she still avoided his gaze.

“Okay,”

Inej swayed a little as she tried to straighten, then fell into Jesper’s arm with a few slow, stumbling steps. He held her up, trying to keep weight off her leg if he could, trying to watch her face and figure out if she needed him to let go.

“Just tell me if you need to stop,”

They managed the first few steps, Inej limping badly, and had almost reached the mouth of the alley before she grabbed his sleeve. Jesper froze, scanning for something to lean her against to stay standing. He pulled away but kept his hand on hers, seemingly all that was holding her up. But all she said was:

“I’m dizzy,”

Her voice was barely a whisper, with a worryingly light tone that sounded faintly amused. Jesper glanced down - Inej’s face had paled quite considerably, and the cobbles beneath and behind them were dark and slick with red. Shit.

“Inej?”

“Jesper…” she whispered, swaying slighlty, “Jesper…”

Panic began to close its tight grip over Jesper as he tried to tug Inej another step forwards, hand over hers, arm outstretched for fear she’d fall or faint. 

“You’re okay,” he told her, wishing he sounded more convincing, “You’re okay; we’re not far from the Slat now,”

Inej glanced around her like she was surprised to discover where she was. 

“It’ll just take ten minutes,” said Jesper, even though he knew on a brisk walk it would probably take you fifteen, “Come on, you can do it,”

Inej gripped his hand tighter, took a slow but confident stride forwards, and promptly fell straight towards the pavement. Jesper grabbed her by the shoulders before she could face-plant onto the stones and tried to encourage her to balance, but he could tell it was a lost cause. He hesitated, but there was still blood pouring from Inej’s wounds and she was swaying between his hands on her arms, eyes half-closed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, then quickly looped an arm around her waist and scooped her up into his arms, “I’m so sorry. We’ll get home as quick as possible, okay?”

Inej didn’t reply. She struggled briefly and rather half-heartedly as he picked her up and her face contorted in pain. He genuinely wasn’t sure if that came only from the knife wounds, or from him as well. But he had to get her back to the Slat, and he wasn’t sure she’d make it on her own. He all but ran back through the Barrel, moving as quickly as he could manage with her drooping in his arms, feeling her blood soaking into his shirt and murmuring a thousand apologies into her ear. 

They burst messily through the door and Jesper immediately saw Layla, a sweetheart but probably the clumsiest girl he’d ever met, jump up from her chair at the sight of Inej. The chair fell over in her wake but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Find Kaz,” he told her, “Quick,”

She vanished. Inej mumbled something, her eyelids drooping.

“Hey,” Jesper tried his best to give her a shake without risking dropping her, “Hey, Inej! Look at me, come on, keep your eyes open,”

“Don’t…” her voice was weak and breathy, “... Kaz,”

Jesper shook her again, hurrying towards the stairs.

“Keep talking to me,” he said, “We’re gonna get you upstairs to lie down, and Nina’s gonna be here in no time, okay? Repeat it back to me, come on,”

Inej shuddered. 

“Jesper… don’t…”

Her voice faded.

“Talk to me, Inej,”

“Don’t tell Kaz,” she whispered, shaking her head, “He won’t… if I… don’t…”

Jesper swallowed.

“We’ll-” he glanced back over his shoulder, but Layla was long gone, “Okay, Kaz is coming, but I’m gonna keep him out of your way, alright?”

Inej groaned.

“I can’t… he’ll…”

“He’s just going to know something happened,” Jesper didn’t know why she didn’t want Kaz to know about this, but he had a growing suspicion he could work it out, “He doesn't have to know how bad it is. I’ll keep him out of your way,”

They got upstairs as quickly as Jepser could manage and he laid her onto her bed. She groaned softly, rolling quickly away from his touch and immediately wincing at the pain, whilst Jesper grabbed a towel that he found sitting on top of her little clothes chest. He hesitated. 

“I’m just gonna lift your legs up,” he told her, slowly, “to put the towel underneath you. Is that alright? I’m just gonna touch your boots, it’ll be two seconds,”

There was already blood on her duvet and maybe this was a futile gesture, but it would probably take a good while to track down any other clean bed sheets at the Slat if these ones got completely ruined. Inej nodded. She closed her eyes and when Jesper took hold of her shoes she gripped the quilt either side of her, the fabric balling into her fists. He pulled the towel along and folded it beneath the wounds as quickly as he could, then gently lowered her legs again. 

“All done,” he whispered.

Inej’s pained whimper was her only response.

“Nina’s on her way, she’ll be here any minute. I’ll give you some space, I’ll be right outside the door if you need me-”

He made to leave, but before he could take a step further Inej’s hand had shot out and closed tightly over his own. She winced - she’d sat up slightly to reach him - and her face was contorted in pain as Jesper turned back to her. 

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered, “Please,”

Jesper nodded, moving back to her side and squeezing her fingers softly.

“Of course not,”

There wasn’t a chair in Inej’s room - there wouldn’t have been space for one - but Jesper sat down beneath her window and stretched his legs out in front of him. She lay on her side so the knife handle was sticking into the air, dangling her arm over the side of the bed and loosely interlocking her fingers with his. 

“Talk to me,”

“About what?”

“Anything,” she whispered, and after a minute, “How did you know? About Wylan?”

“I didn’t. Not really,” he shrugged, “I mean, I noticed stuff was weird… I didn’t think he would try to kill him,”

Inej closed her eyes for a moment and Jepser squeezed her fingers tighter.

“Inej? Inej, look at me,”

“I’m okay,” she whispered, “Still breathing,”

Jesper didn’t want to let go, but he gently loosened his grip on her fingers. They stayed loosely connected, index fingers hooked around each other. He was fighting to stay in this room, in this moment, with Inej and not… Jesper breathed. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen death, since his mother, he saw it almost every day. Hell, he may very well have killed a man barely half an hour ago, before he brought Inej back to the Slat, he didn’t stop to check if the tough was still breathing. And Inej was going to be fine, Nina was coming, she would know what to do. But there was something about this that was forcing him to face the cavern that would be left in him if he lost Inej, to bring the cavern already inside him back to the surface. He took a breath, trying to shake himself away from such stupid thoughts. He was not seven years old anymore. And Inej was going to be okay. 

“Jesper?”

He blinked, smiling at Inej.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, “Do you want some water?”

“Jesper,” her voice was soft, “are you crying?”

“No,” he cleared his throat, standing up and dropping her hand, “I’ll get you some water,”

When he came back, Inej had shuffled herself up the bed to sit leaning against the headboard, propped up by her pillow, wincing as tried to settle herself.

“What are you doing?” asked Jesper, shaking his head, as he set her water down and offered her an arm so she could steady.

“I…” Inej breathed heavily, “... it hurts,”

“Well I hate to state the obvious, love, but I think that’s going to be a given when there a knife sticking out your leg,”

Inej made a sound that might have been laughter, but it was hard to tell through her pained breathing. She clutched his arm, resting her head briefly against his shoulder.

“You should lie down, try to keep it still,” he told her softly.

“Where’s Nina?”

Jesper had no idea. Shouldn’t she be here by now? Shouldn’t she have gotten back before they did?

“On her way,” he promised, “She’ll be here any minute,”

It took a short while longer for Nina to arrive, though Jesper wasn’t sure exactly how long it had been. He got Inej to drink an entire glass of water, but she was still losing blood badly and he thought she might be close to passing out. He didn’t know how much blood you have to have lost to get to that point. Should he try to put pressure on the cuts? He didn’t want to risk moving the knife around, and he wasn’t sure if I he would be okay with his hands on her leg again. If Nina wasn’t here in a few minutes, he decided, he would find something to tie around them and hope that would be enough pressure until she arrived. 

“Talk to me,” Inej said again, her voice weak, “Please,”

Jesper nodded.

“I… I don’t know what to say,”

“You always know what to say,” Inej laughed softly, and Jesper echoed her.

She was right. He could’ve talked for King and country, as his Da would’ve put it - which always made Jesper laugh when he was little, because they didn’t have a King in Novyi Zem. There wasn’t a King in Kerch, either, but that didn’t stop him. Still, now it felt like there were simply no words within his reach. A moment passed, before Inej murmured:

“Tell me about Wylan,”

“What about him?”

“Well, I only met him twice,” she said, softly, “In chemistry lessons, of all places. I’m still yet to have a go at Kaz for those,”

Jesper laughed.

“Tell me what he’s like,” Inej said, closing her eyes again until Jesper grabbed her hand and she said: “I’m awake. I’m okay. Just… talk,”

Jesper talked. The minutes ticked by. He panicked that Nina still hadn’t appeared, wondered if he should send one of the Dregs looking for her or looking for a Healer, tried to keep his voice even and carry on talking to Inej. He didn’t know how long it had been when the door was flung open and Nina ran into the tiny bedroom, taking Jesper by surprise so much that he jumped up to his feet. 

“Inej?”

“Nina…” Inej groaned, softly, reaching out towards Nina’s outstretched hand, smiling as she said, “funny story…”

“Oh Saints, Inej, I’m so sorry I took so long,”

Nina clutched at Inej’s fingers for a moment as Jesper tried to shuffle out of her way in the tiny room, so Nina could get to Inej properly.

“What-?” when she saw the full extent of Inej’s injuries, Nina gasped, “Oh Saints, what happened?”

Jesper opened his mouth but before he could the door opened again and Kaz appeared through it.

“Wraith-”

Inej seemed to almost flinch, pulling herself quickly upright and immediately wincing at the pain.

“Nope,” said Jesper, before Kaz could get another word in, “There’s too many people in here,”

“What happened?” asked Kaz, his rough voice grating through the air. 

“Out,” Jesper pointed at the door, “I’ll fill you in,”

No-one moved for a moment; Jesper walked towards the door so Kaz was forced to back out into the corridor again, though he didn’t look pleased about it, and nodded at Nina and Inej before he pulled it shut behind them both. 

#how are we already nearing 50k words????? madness #I don't know how that happened #don't go blindly into the dark #six of crows #grishaverse #crooked kingdom #leigh bardugo #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #kaz brekker #matthias helvar #wylan hendriks #wylan x jesper #wesper #wesper fic #wesper fanfiction #soc fandom #soc fic #soc fanfiction #six of crows fandom #six of crows fanfic #six of crows fic #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse fandom

[mayday-jd]

WARNING!!

I'm mostly just talking about broppy here lmao

—————

• moving onto the better fit for poppy I present to y'all my boy... shadow the hedgehog!!

he's definitely one of my favourite trolls this guy singlehandedly started the sassy man apocalypse LMAO

I think branch is good, he's alr and can you see that I can't properly express why I like him 😭

I think it's funny how he spends so much time hating on the trolls happy, fun and loud lifestyle while he's brooding in his corner or bunker

when in reality he feels lonely and does want to be included (BROZONE WHEN I CATCH YOU BROZONE.)

tbh that's probably one of the reasons why he loves poppy since she's always gone out of her way to include him when everyone else just gave up on him cuz of his moody attitude

like guys.. he kept all the invites she gave him... ☹️

when they were on their way to bergen town and all he did was complain about poppy's "poppiness" he never really was completely fed up with her (which kind of is a miracle) like look at his face in this scene where she's singing despite him complaining about it

LOOK HOW HE LOOKS AT HER

and I cannot find a screenshot for this scene BUT THAT SCENE OH. MY. DAYS.

the scene where everyone's freaking out on how to compliment gristle until branch speaks up and gives this absolutely beautiful compliment out of nowhere

but it's not out of nowhere yk why?? CUZ THAT'S JUST HIM DESCRIBING HOW HE SEES POPPY

"Your eyes, they're like two pools so deep, I fear if I dive in, I might never come up for air. And your smile, the sun itself turns jealous and refuses to come out from behind the clouds knowing it cannot shine half as bright."

"I kinda do have a nice smile, don't I?" - gristle's response

"Yes, you do."

AND THEN BRANCH LOOKS AT POPPY

I felt so normal when that scene happened cuz why would I let a trolls movie affect me that much?? 🙂

what's fucking insane tho is that they don't kiss at the end of the movie

like I'm not saying they're obligated to do so but when you basically say "I love you" to each other in I'm pretty fucking sure a /r way then I'm expecting y'all so smack lips by the end of the movie

broppy fans have been starving out there cuz these two bozos don't kiss until the lastest movie which came out SEVEN FUCKING YEARS AFTER THE FIRST TROLLS MOVIE

this is like one of the most evil things I've heard about canon ships LMAOO

anyways broppy wins and fuck creek can't believe poppy liked him 🙄

they should've gone thru with choking him to death ngl

#branch is so sassy and grumpy lmao #I find him fun and delightful #and when you look under that emo boy™ shell of his goddamn bro #tho when the “singing killed my grandma” scene came on I could not suppress the giggles #I've seen that scene get memed soo many times man 😭 #what's funny is that I literally saw a shadowpeach post with the lines from the diner date scene like yesterday I think #so imagine my surprise when I hear branch say those words to poppy #7 years is evil man #the poor broppy nation #would've been more fun if creek got choked to death by either branch or poppy #more fun if it was poppy #I mean look at branch's smirk here LMAO

[rickmymanrick]

one rule | chapter two |

[rick grimes x original female character slowburn]

summary: the statewide evacuation is underway and it goes terribly wrong terribly fast. daphne and glenn undergo an impromptu rescue mission and soon their group of two becomes a group of 5.

note: twd-typical gore starts now. there's vivid descriptions and mentions of vomit among many other things. this will be the only warning from now on until we get into the sexual content of this book. but expect anything as gory as what you saw in the show and/or read in the comics. :)

"God, I fucking hate Atlanta."

"Daphne..."

I ignored him, pressing a hand against my forehead and squeezing my eyes shut to try to will the traffic we were currently stuck in away.

"In fact, I hate all big cities. New York, LA, Chicago..."

"What is—?" I peeked at Glenn to see him leaning forward, nearly smacking his head into the windshield.

I chose to complain without a care. "I could really stretch my legs right now..."

"Daphne!"

"What? What?" I glared at him through an eye. I quickly sat up when I saw the horrified look on his face. The fear of what I'd see up ahead paralyzed me for just a moment. I had never ever seen Glenn so terrified in his life.

"We need—" he started blindly reaching out for the door handle, pressing every button on the side door console. "Out. We need to get out right now!"

I whipped my head forward when the screams started and nothing could've prepared me for what I saw.

There was a crowd— no—herd— of people stumbling down the adjacent empty side of the freeway. Some of them were crossing the small median barriers that separated the lanes that led out of the city and the lanes leading towards it, where every single car in the state of Georgia crammed into.

From a distance, it looked just... odd. Then they started to get closer and I realized with a start what was causing Glenn to panic in a way I'd never seen.

These people were... dead.

Flesh hanging off their cheekbones and extremities... a horrid stench of death and rotten flesh that I could smell from a mile away... I instantly wanted to throw up.

I tuned back into my immediate surroundings and found that Glenn was still desperately grabbing at the door, eyes wildly looking at the chaos unfolding around us.

He was saying something— more like screaming something — but my hearing went into a strange state of white noise.

It was my body's fight or flight. The sort of survival instincts I'd never had to tap into before in my mundane life.

I slammed my whole hand on the driver's door console and in his panic, Glenn instantly re-locked the doors with his button. "Goddamnit, Glenn!"

"I'm sorry! I'm—"

"Let's go," I rushed out of the car and made it to Glenn's side in record speed. He was still struggling, halfway out the car, his hands reaching for whatever he could find useful in the car.

"We don't have time for this," I dragged him by the shirt and started running towards the woods adjacent to the highway, desperate to create some space between us and the dead.

A corpse lunged in front of me out of nowhere and a scream ripped through my throat. It tackled an older lady that was trying to grab something out of her car trunk just a few paces ahead of us.

I completely froze, the terror was icy cold and spreading from the tips of my fingers to the bottom of my feet. My stomach started turning painfully —

My arm nearly came off my body from how hard Glenn pulled me away.

We began running, sprinting faster than we had ever pushed ourselves before and I couldn’t even feel myself break a sweat.

The adrenaline pushed me farther and farther away until I was the one leading Glenn by the hand, tearing through the woods and never looking back.

The screams were louder than ever and I could faintly hear Glenn hyperventilating over the pounding in my ears. 

I didn’t let go. I didn’t ease up.

We had to run.

It was only what felt like hours later (it had only been minutes really) that I skidded to a stop, no longer recognizing my surroundings. It was finally quiet, just a faint chorus of beeps and sirens from a distance away.

Glenn fell to the ground and instantly curled into a ball, his hands shielding his head as his back started shaking.

It felt like my heart soared up to my throat and I barely made it a few steps before throwing up everything I had eaten this morning.

My eyes stung, tears streaming down and mixing with the vomit. My nose was running and I was crying all at the same time. I threw up until there was nothing left in my system anymore, just dry heaving and a burning in my throat.

Glenn was still curled up on the ground.

I didn’t know how long we’d been sitting here in our state of shock; it could’ve well been over a half hour.

”You know,” I began hoarsely. “I was supposed to go on a date today.”

This made him look up, bloodshot eyes squinting at me as if he were trying to figure out if I’d truly reached my breaking point.

Maybe I had. Hell, everything I thought I knew about this world was flipped upside down.

As of this morning, there were two things I was absolutely certain of in this world — we, humans, are born and eventually we die. It was the natural order of things and there was no way around it. No do-over, no coming back— that was just it.

Now, now I was questioning my grip on reality and desperately holding on to anything I could remember from my life before this afternoon’s events.

There was life then, and there’s life now.

Maybe Glenn realized that too because as soon as the confusion crossed his face, it was gone and he was laughing.

”This is one hell of a way to stand someone up,” he said, sniffling. “At least you’ve got a valid excuse.”

“Yeah, true. Maybe he’ll be willing to reschedule.”

We don’t comment on the ridiculousness of that statement. It’s very clear to me that Shane might be dead.

”Who was it anyway?” Glenn asked, picking at the leaves under his hands.

I jolted at the sound of a branch snapping. An icy cold sensation gripped my throat and I snapped my head to look in that direction.

It was a squirrel.

”Uh - it was the flirty cop. You know, the one who asked what the best night of my life was like when we met and then - ”

”Then he told you he could give that to you. Yeah, girl, what the fuck?”

This was the first taste of normalcy since the highway.

”He - he’s not that much of an asshole anymore. I only agreed because he promised to take me to Ilio’s.”

”He knows about that place?”

”I told him yesterday morning and I guess he does have hearing for things other than sex.”

He snorted. “That’s some character development.”

”Surprised me too,” I said quietly.

It was silent for a few moments and I had to strain my ears to listen for the screams. They’d died down significantly.

We had to get out of here soon. Maybe go home, find a car if we could. Anything. Sitting here would surely end in our death - through starvation or otherwise.

”I was gonna quit today,” Glenn said suddenly.

I quirked an eyebrow. I stared over at my best friend and he stared back.

”You’re bullshitting,” I denied after a solid thirty seconds.

“I’m dead serious, Daph. I was thinking of becoming a cop, just like you,” he said with that proud bullshitting smile.

“Shut up. I’m not a cop,” I grimaced. “You know I would’ve never stepped foot in a precinct if it wasn’t required in my training.”

“So we hate cops but the flirty one’s alright?”

I rolled my eyes and sat down beside him.

“What about Griiiiimmmeeesss?”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” I shoved the annoying fucker aside, so hard that he landed on his side in the grass.

He fell over in giggles, knocking his hat into the ground and laughing even harder. I couldn’t help but laugh too. It felt bizarre after what we just experienced.

Glenn slowly recovered and it all went silent again.

”What made you say that anyway?” I glanced at him.

He shrugged. “Thought we were saying random things.”

I shook my head in amusement. We sat there for a few more minutes.

”What do we do?” I stared at the ground.

I saw Glenn turn to me from the corner of my eye. “I don’t know.”

”What do you think we should do?”

Glenn's idea ended up being 'borrowing' a car to drive back to our apartment and figure it out there. We'd both refused to go back to the highway and so with burning legs and dry mouths, we trekked through the woods until we eventually hit some concrete again. We stayed along the road, following whatever little signs we could find until we stumbled across an abandoned Jeep halfway on the road and halfway on the grass. It was still on, its windshield wipers moving and the lights turned on despite the bright sun out. 

"Looks like there was a struggle here," I noted. We both stood at a good distance just in case. 

"Which means we shouldn't linger around any longer than we need to," Glenn made a start for the vehicle. "I'm willing to bet one of those geeks are close by."

"Wait - " I followed after him quickly. "Grand theft auto?!"

"Does it even matter anymore? I don't see any law enforcement around here, do you?"

A nearby human-like growl was all the convincing I needed. Surprisingly, Glenn let me drive and I noticed his shaky hands resting on his lap as we sped down the deserted roads. 

When we made it to the complex, it was just as empty as every other road we'd been on. There was some cars here and there but not a single soul in sight. They must've left as soon as the evacuation was announced. I cringed at the thought of our neighbors stuck on that highway from hell. 

I ran my hands along the comforter on my bed, feeling the soft fabric between my fingers because something told me I wouldn't be back in a long time.

For a moment, our little apartment felt like the only safe haven left in the world. I wanted to stay, beg Glenn to help me barricade the doors, but it wasn't possible. The I-85 was too close to our town for comfort. 

Between the two of us, we silently emptied our pantry into the trunk of the half open-door, half window-less Jeep. I tried to shove every knife I could find in the glove compartment, wishing I had more than just a handgun. 

"We should stop the station," I thought out loud. "Maybe they'll let me grab some more ammo. We can warn them if they don't know yet."

Glenn nodded and we rushed to finish packing as much as we could fit. I was grabbing a pack of batteries when we heard the first gunshot. 

Without hesitation, I threw myself to the ground, crouching behind the island as a vase behind me shattered. 

"That's not good,” Glenn stated the obvious. He rushed on all fours and then grabbed me, running toward the front door without hesitation. The bullet had entered through our side window, one of the perks of having a corner unit. I barely had time to grab the keys of our stolen car.

I kept my head down, sprinting to the driver's side and twisting the key in the ignition. 

Glass rained down from the apartment building, windows shattering as bullets entered them with precision. I realized with a start that this wasn't an accident. 

"It's the military," said Glenn as soon as we safely sped away from our street. 

"You saw it?"

"Yes, I saw it," he said exasperatedly. "They're shooting everyone down. Look!"

I did my best to look over at his phone and saw a shaky video of military soldiers raining down rounds on groups of people-- living civilians…

There was a military truck ahead, two lights away, so I turned the wheel into a sharp right. We were already halfway to the police station in the next town over - King County. Our only option was to try to speed through the town square; it was the only exit I knew and maybe I could've thought of more if I wasn't terrified of being shot in the head. 

We raced closer to the town, going well over the speed limit and I was forced to slow down when I finally saw signs of civilization again - people running for their lives, thankfully, no children in sight until --

"That's - that's Shane! What the fuck?" I yelled over the wind, recognizing the back of my coworker as soon as I laid eyes on him.

"Who's Shane?!" Glenn yelled back. 

I couldn't answer, not as I was staring straight ahead at a group of armed soldiers, aimed and locked on Shane and the two others that were with him. 

My consciousness would never let me live if I didn't act fast. I pressed the gas straight into the floor and it felt exhilarating for half a moment. We began approaching the intersection with frightening speed.

I suddenly slammed the brakes and used whatever momentum I had to twist the car around. Right between the military and Shane's group. 

Glenn made a desperate grab at the handle above beside him, screaming something along the lines of me being insane. Shane pulled himself off the ground, releasing Lori and Carl Grimes with a relieved smile.

“Yes, fuck yes!” He cheered as he opened the back door quickly. Carl and Lori climbed in first, breathing so quickly I feared one of them was hyperventilating.

“T-thank you,” Lori reached over and grasped me by the shoulder. Her hands were severely shaking. “Thank you.”

I squeezed her hand back, a bit shocked at the company. Shane came barreling in with a large KCPD duffel bag.

I managed to crack a joke. “I thought you were picking me up, Walsh?” 

The soldiers kept yelling orders from the other side of the intersection and I realized they would start shooting again if I didn’t move now.

Shane leaned forward and grasped the side of my head with one hand, pulling my temple against his lips firmly, breathing into my hair like I was the best goddamn thing that had ever happened to him. I smiled, gripping the steering wheel and shifting into drive just as they raised their guns again.

Shane let me go quickly and the shooting started again. Lori screamed and I saw her pull Carl in close through the rearview mirror. I slammed my foot into the gas, adrenaline pumping through my blood and I remember feeling a sharp pinch in my left leg as I sent the car from 0 to about 100 MPH in record time.

“Where are we going? Daphne, where are we going?!” Glenn panicked from the passenger’s seat.

I wished I could answer him but the only thing my brain was allowing me to do was drive. Survival kicked in and I was doing everything I could to keep us alive.

“Ayala, listen to me. We gotta go in-land. It’s the only place they won’t find us, you hear me?” Shane asserted from behind Glenn. He grabbed me by the shoulder.

I saw an opening between the trees a few yards ahead and without warning, took a sharp left into the wild greenery.

Carl cursed. Lori didn’t seem to care.

It was only until Shane told me we were safe that I stopped on the edge of a cliff, the view of Atlanta in the distance, the endless traffic on the I-85 eerily silent now.

“Holy shit,” Glenn said. “Daphne, your leg.”

“What?” I asked absentmindedly.

I hadn’t bothered to check out that strange pinch until now. Before I could force my head to look down (it had gotten strangely heavier since I put the car in park), my door was opening and Shane was right there, crouching at my side. Lori and Carl had gotten out of the car, one of them crying. Or maybe both of them were— I wasn’t sure anymore.

I was all of a sudden dizzy.

My mind drifted off in a million different directions. Were we the only survivors? Was it just Atlanta and the surrounding cities? What the fuck was happening? What the fuck—

“Hey, Ayala.”

What the fuck —

“Look at me.”

What the fuck—

“Daphne!”

I looked back down at him with a newfound strength. My mind cleared enough to realize the situation.

Shane’s hands were covered in red, ripping at his undershirt and I felt the first sting of pain as the adrenaline wore off.

“Fuck,” I gasped, tempted to clutch onto my leg but he quickly pushed my hands away and began to wrap the fabric around the wound tightly.

“One of the bullets got you,” Shane grunted. “We’re lucky it’s just a graze. Any longer and you would’ve lost too much blood.”

Glenn pushed Shane aside as soon as he was done. When had he gotten out of the car?

He wrapped an arm around my torso and began to help me out of the vehicle.

“You crazy asshole. You can’t leave me like this,” said Glenn dramatically. We hobbled over to a nearby rock.

“I’m not going to die, Rhee,” I slurred.

Glenn looked at me. “You better not.”

“Nope,” I shook my finger. I think the blood loss was getting to me now and I distantly hoped if I passed out, I wouldn’t hit my head too hard.

“Here,” offered Lori as she walked over to us. I squinted my eyes, trying to focus on what Glenn had accepted from her hands.

“Thanks,” I said without knowing. I’m pretty she gave me a smile before walking back to her son.

Glenn thrusted the object in my face—

A go-gurt in all its glory.

”The kid grabbed everything that was in their fridge,” he pointed his thumb at the second duffle bag that laid next to Carl. “You need to eat something.”

I was too tired to argue. I slowly began to rip the top off and made eye contact with Shane.

”What’s up with him?” Glenn eyed him and sat beside me.

“I was supposed to go on that date with him,” I explained. My strength was slowly coming back.

Glenn looked at me and then back at Shane with wide eyes.

“Do you fucking know the definition of subtle?!” I whacked him on the arm, ducking closer to him so Shane couldn’t read my lips.

“He’s the flirty coworker?” Glenn whispered quite fucking loudly.

I rolled my eyes. “I need to stop telling you every little detail in my life. It’s really backfiring on me now.”

I didn’t mean it of course. Glenn was a part of me and me, him. We were pretty much each other’s first everything and we’ve been attached at the hip ever since we met.

”It’s just weird. How we all ended up together… ” I trailed off.

”You know them?” He looked over at Lori and Carl; she had her arms wrapped around her son, holding him close.

I smiled sadly. “Yeah, you can say that.”

“Daphne, I’m going to go scan the perimeter. See if I can find us some tents, shelter…” Shane looked over at Glenn. “You comin’ with?”

My first instinct was to protest. Glenn looked down at his arm, my hand clutching at it like a vice.

”Hey, I’ll be fine. We’ll be back before sundown, right?”

Shane looked between me, Glenn, and my hand. “Right.” He said stiffly.

To our luck, Shane and Glenn found a camping store within the last few hours of daylight.

I’d spent that time talking to Lori, skillfully avoiding the subject of her husband though I was dying to know what happened to him.

Was he alive? Did they evacuate the medical patients in time? 

The not-knowing made me anxious… All in all, Lori Grimes was a really sweet woman, just a few years older than I was and easy to hold a conversation with. I imagined it would be even easier if the threat of death and gloom wasn’t hanging over our shoulders. That was another thing I was desperately trying to ignore, but I was failing horrendously.

Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was the corpse ripping apart that old lady’s torso on the highway, blood soaking the ground before my feet, intestines spilling like rope from her abdomen as she screamed in agony -

“Hey,” Lori put a hand on my knee. I jumped in fright. “We can’t get lost in our heads. Now now.”

She had an understanding look on her face. I wondered what she’d seen before Glenn and I found them in the town square.

I looked over at Carl and wondered the same thing; he was only a boy. 

I squeezed Lori’s hand and gave her a shaky smile.

“They’re back!” Carl exclaimed. It was the first thing he said since the car ride.

I nearly cried in relief. My leg was still aching, the blood dried up on the fabric of my pants, so I couldn’t get up even if I tried.

Carl ran over to Shane with a smile. Glenn slammed the passenger door shut and came running over.

”How was it?” I asked quietly, keeping an eye on the police officer.

”Could’ve been worse,” he shrugged and I instantly knew Shane had been difficult. “We found some supplies though. A national park shop, it had tents, flashlights, we grabbed it all.”

The first bit of hope flooded through me. Maybe we would survive this. Wait it out until the military found some better way to control the virus.

”And this - ” Shane came out of nowhere, holding a bottle of vodka. I gave him an impressed look, nudging Glenn in excitement. If this was the end of the world, at least we could get wasted one last time.

" - this is gonna hurt," finished Shane. He was looking straight at my leg. My heart sank at the implication. 

”Hey, at least we can drink it after, right?” Glenn cheered. “Be optimistic, man!”

I glared at him, clutching Shane’s shirt with pale knuckles as he crouched at my feet.

"Remind me to never get shot for one of you assholes ever again," I said through gritted teeth. Thankfully, Lori and Carl were distracted by the supplies. I wouldn't want them to think I was talking about them. 

"I'm sure the pain will be reminder enough," Glenn smiled sympathetically. 

Whatever witty response I had instantly died on my tongue at the first drop of vodka. 

next chapter...

#rick grimes x daphne ayala #rick grimes x original female character #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x oc #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #shane walsh x original female character #glenn rhee #lori grimes #carl grimes #twd #twd fanfic

[tonberry-yoda]

Comforting - DIO

Pairing - DIO x f!reader

Warnings - blood

Word Count - 912

Notes - the random motivation to write for DIO just washed over me and i knew that i had to. i absolutely love this fabulous neon vampire

And don’t forget, REQUESTS ARE OPEN! So if you want to request any writing, please don’t hesitate to ask, but please read my pinned post before requesting! Please enjoy!! Don’t forget to stay hydrated! <3

She jerked awake, breathing heavy. Where was she? She couldn't remember the night before. It was all a blur. Her head felt like it was going to explode and her body was sore. What happened? She sat on her knees, trying to compose herself. She didn't want to panic herself trying to remember yesterday's events. She took a deep, calming breath and looked around the dark room. Nothing. She couldn't remember anything. She sighed and slumped back down on the floor, her hair and limbs sprawled out around her.

She winced at a sudden pain in her neck. “Ow. What the hell?” She reached up to find where the pain was coming from, but it somehow caused even more pain. She stood up, trying to see if she could find a mirror, but there was nothing. Nothing but the moon shining in through a small window. She felt her neck again and looked down at her hands. Blood. She was bleeding? How… and why?

“Do you like it?” She jumped at the sudden deep voice that echoed around her small room. “Like it? Like… what?” She didn't know how she built up the courage to respond, she was shaking to death. “The mark.” The voice was somehow… soothing. Like she could listen to it and become calm. But her shaking hands said otherwise. She needed answers, and she feared that this untrustworthy voice had those answers. “Mark?” The voice chuckled. “So you haven't seen it yet?” “Seen… what?”

She saw a man appear, as if from nowhere, into her room. Now she remembered. That blonde hair. Those eyes. That… body. “D-DIO?” DIO chuckled and walked up to her, grabbing her chin with his forefinger and thumb, bringing her head up to look at him. She forgot just how tall he really was. “You look cute with them.” He rubbed his thumb over her teeth, making her pull back. She ran her tongue over her teeth and gasped. How did she not notice before? Her canines, which were once dull, were now sharp and extruding. “DIO, what have you done?” He just giggled and grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him.

“What did you do?! Answer me, DIO! And where are you taking me?!” “To a mirror, silly. I want you to see just what I've done to you.” She swallowed, tasting blood. She must’ve bitten her own lip without noticing. How dare he. DIO acted like he owned the world. Owned her. It wasn't her fault that he had taken a liking to her. That she was the only girl strong enough to tell him where to shove it. She didn't know that it would end up turning her into a literal vampire.

“So? Do you like it?” She walked up to the full length mirror, the only light around her being the moonlight and dim candles that shimmered off of the rhinestones on the edges of the mirror. She saw blood trickling down her neck, which had a bite mark like something out of an old Dracula film. But he was a traditional vampire, so how did he… “Well?” She turned to him, confused, angry, sad, she didn't even know what she was feeling anymore. “Why?” Her voice came out more of a squeak than words. A faint whisper. She didn't even notice the tears sliding down her face. She was confused and wanted to just curl up all alone, not be pulled into something like this. “Why? That’s not the reaction I wanted. I generously gave you some of my own blood for this. You should be thankful.” “Thankful? You want me to be… thankful?! Are you crazy?! First you lock me in a room, and then you make me… IMMORTAL?! Are you out of your mind?!” “For you, I must be out of my mind.” He tried reaching out to cup her cheek, but she smacked his hand away, sad tears now becoming rageful ones. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” “What’s wrong with me? Don't you dare talk to me like that! If it weren't for me, you would be homeless on the streets of Cairo right now and you know it!” She froze. He was right. She was all alone. Scared. Dying. But he found her. Gave her a home. She thought it was just so he could get her stand and its power, but he was kind. Maybe not the best host, but kind. “You’re obsessed with me, DIO.” “Is that really so wrong?” DIO cupped her cheek, wiping away a falling tear. “What if I don't want to live forever?” “You’ll be with me.” He leaned down to her level and pet her hair with his available hand. “What if I don't want to be with you?” “Where else would you go?” He was right. She really didn't have another choice.

DIO brought her face closer to hers and looked into her shining eyes. “Don't be afraid. I promise I won't make immortality boring.” She couldn't help giggling a bit, bringing a smile to DIO’s face. “Are you going to be alright, love?” She nodded. To be honest, she didn't know if she would be, but she had to trust herself, and for some reason, she was screaming ‘stay’. DIO placed his lips to hers, their sharp teeth brushing against one another’s. She didn't even think about pushing away, if anything, she sank into the kiss. She couldn't help that his presence was comforting.

#DIO x reader #dio brando x reader #dio #DIO #dio brando #dio jjba #dio jojo #dio jojo's bizarre adventure #dio x reader #dio brando jjba #dio brando jojo #dio brando jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba x reader #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba pt 3

[miles-and-waylon]

A Betrayal of the Worst Kind

Camerashipping and fluff, what could be better?

Miles ‘punishing’ Waylon and Lisa’s of no help.

-

Being on the run and trying to take down a major corrupt corporation with near infinite resources take a toll on a man. Waylon kept his mind away from his stint at Mount Massive by working. Lisa was the one keeping them up on personal maintenance (and driving a majority of the time), Miles handled the execution of dangerous ideas (given the fact he was already dead), and Waylon was the planner.

He was almost always on his laptop, a laptop protected by a motherload of security measures as he’d learned to use after getting caught that first time. He only stopped for long when it came to eating and sleeping, and when one of his partners got fed up and forced a break.

In another cheap motel found on some highway in the middle of nowhere, with Lisa out getting food from the gas station next door, Miles smacked his laptop shut just after he saved his newest project. Before he could even complain, he was laid out across the couch, hips straddled by his dangerous captor.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Waylon tried to protest, squirming as his death-cold grip tugged up his shirt. “Bad time! What if Lisa walks in?”

“I mean, the last time she walked in on us, she seemed quite happy with what she was seeing. Did you really tuck a t-shirt into a pair of sweatpants? You’re such a geek it’s painful.”

Waylon bucked up his hips, kicked his legs, tried to swat away his hands—all to no avail. He proved absolutely terrible in a struggle when his life wasn’t on the line. “Are you judging how I wear pajamas? Are you kidd—“ Miles fingers came in contact with his stomach, nails dragging down against his skin. Immediately, the pinned man turtled into himself.

“I was curious, you know, at our last stop. I brushed up against your side, and you jumped juuust enough for me to notice, and you said that I scared you!”

“Miles—“

“Ah-ah! You said that, but I’ve seen how you startle. That wasn’t it. I’m still a journalist, Way. A bored journalist! When I think I’ve been lied to, that’s when my gears get working.” He wore the most evil grin, contrasting with Waylon’s suddenly wide, terrified eyes. He scribbled slowly, teasingly across exposed flesh. “Did you lie? Did I really startle you?”

“Miles,” he began again, voice wavering. Waylon twisted to press his face into the dusty couch cushion beside him. “Really? A-are you held up on a lit…” He paused to swear. It was the only way to keep a giggle from getting out right then. “…little thing like that? I don’t even remember it!” Journalist or not, who would realistically be able to tell a startled flinch from having sensitive sides?

“Well, honestly, I only remembered it because I basically have nothing to do right now. Doesn’t change that you lied. You lied, and you’ve been neglecting me. I think that’s worthy of a little punishment, don’t you?” Then he found those sensitive sides to attack in earnest.

“Wait! Wait, wait—!” God, then the *buzzing* started. There was no point trying to resist after that. His brief exposure to the engine was still enough to make poor Waylon more receptive to sensing the Walrider’s presence, and he’d be damned if the sudden hum of nanites against his body wasn’t an abuse of power! He broke out into sweet, bubbly laughter, unsure if he should try to protect himself or keep trying to push him away.

Then came a glimmer of hope.

Lisa came through the door right then, plastic bags full of food and much-needed toiletries hanging from her arms. She quickly realized she arrived to a scene of chaos. Her expression turned into curiosity and bemusement.

“Lisa!” Waylon gasped. He threw his arm out towards her in a pleading gesture. “Lisa, help me! Please!”

To his horror, as she realized what was going on, her look twisted into a traitorous smile. “You gotta go lower,” she advised. “Get his hips. He can’t take it. It’s adorable.”

Was this the woman he married? One so willing to throw him under the bus like that? His shock was interrupted by Miles gleefully following her instructions. Laughter turned to mirthful, unmanly squeaks and squeals echoing across the walls of the room.

“Let me put away what I got for us, then I’ll come help.” She better mean help him! “It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten to see him like this.” Apparently not.

He was doomed.

#camerashipping #miles upshur #waylon park #lisa park #outlast fanfiction #I had a need for them

[freesia-writes]

Howzer + Aurelia Ch. 4

Howzer stole our hearts when he appeared in TBB, and I wanted to write a bit of a backstory for him. It begins with his newbie days during TCW and stretches to where we last see him in TBB. Enjoy his character arc and some heartwarming romance, action, adventure, yearning, angst, and growth.

Master List of Chapters

Content/Trigger Warnings for Entire Work (individual chapters not labeled): wartime peril, injury, and death; pregnancy, birthing trauma, and infant loss; sexual assault up to kissing; relationship passion up to making out and heavy petting; sexual relationship alluded to but not described (no smut, sorry) ;)

Word Count: 1.4k

4. Good Intentions

"I can't believe you get to be out there doing all that, and I'm stuck waddling around after Mister Diplofat here."

Sprint had been filling Howzer in on his latest mission, recounting the details with just enough enthusiasm to make it a thoroughly riveting story and further fueling the simmering desire for some "real action". They walked along the food line, filling their trays with a basic assortment of the options.

"You can find the dignity in any assignment if you choose to," Sprint answered, grabbing a spoon before heading to a table.

"Maybe you can. But once they make me a Captain, it's gonna be a turning point in the war," Howzer insisted.

"Great. I can't wait! Now eat your soup."

***

An impossibly long week of repetitive and seemingly pointless tasks found Howzer back at 79s, accompanied by a few squad mates he had found a conversation with. They were reclined in a booth on the upper level, swapping stories and jokes, when some voices rose above the others downstairs.

"Get back to work, sweetie. Here, take my glass. I could use a refill."

"Did you hear me? I said it's time to go," came a female voice with a sharp edge to it. Howzer peered over the balcony, eyes drawn to a table with a few Weequay pirates huddled over a game of sabacc. A handful of clones were standing around them, arms crossed and brows furrowed, and in the center of the group was Aurelia, pointing toward the door.

One of the pirates stood up, leering at her with just enough impairment to his movements to bely his condition. "We're not done making money off of these chumps!" he said, beckoning toward the clones nearby, who stiffened and appeared to be readying for a fight.

Aurelia sighed, cursing herself inwardly for agreeing to cover a shift by herself. She opened her mouth for one last attempt when a loud clone voice came over her shoulder.

"You're done if she says you're done."

She turned, spotting a familiar clone approaching from the stairs, striding confidently toward the group. She couldn't quite remember his name, but she recognized his messy hair and the way he tried to swagger. Howzer pushed past a couple angry clones to stand beside her, folding his arms over his tensed chest.

"Oh look boys, she's got a little guard dog," the Weequay taunted, turning to poke Howzer in the chest plate, "A nice fresh one all raring to go."

"Come on," a clone beside Howzer said, "Let's not turn this into a big mess. Just call it a night. You've wiped us clean. Take your winnings and go."

"He's got a point," said one of the pirates from the table, rising to his feet to scoop up the variety of credits and cards scattered across it. "Besides, I'm still tired from the last troopers I beat up."

They stood, gathering their things, as Howzer watched sternly. The crowd of clones dissipated, eager to return to their leisure, and the closest Weequay leaned into Aurelia's face, hissing something foul under his breath. She grimaced at the hot blast of stinky air as well as the content of his words.

Smack! Howzer's hand flew out of nowhere, whacking the pirate upside the back of his head. A confused squawk flew from the Weequay's mouth, and one of his cronies was on Howzer in an instant, delivering a tragically accurate sucker punch straight to his gut. He doubled over in pain, quickly followed by terror as his stomach lurched and he felt his dinner come flying back up, out of his mouth, and all over the feet of the pirate in front of him.

A chorus of disgusted sounds rose around him, and the pirates left in revulsion, throwing a litany of insults over their shoulders as they left. Howzer slowly stood back up, hand pressed to his mouth, horrified that one well-placed shot had turned his attempt at courage into a mortifying embarrassment. Aurelia was still next to him, having jumped back a few feet when the pirate charged him, looking at the mess on the floor with a resigned disappointment before turning to fetch a mop from the utility closet.

"Wait, I'll get it," Howzer said, reaching for her elbow. "Or a service droid can?"

"Our droid is perpetually broken. Wait here so no one steps in it," she answered, not looking back. She disappeared around a corner behind the bar, and he stood there for a moment, arms at his sides, ignoring the few judgmental looks from the patrons around him. Aurelia returned with the cleaning supplies, which he promptly took from her arms.

"Please. This was my fault. And it's disgusting," Howzer insisted, and she acquiesced with a mumbled sentence of gratitude. There were a few orders waiting for her at the bar, so she returned to wash her hands and take care of those while he cleaned up the mess.

"I'll put these back," he said, bringing the supplies to the edge of the bar and pausing for a moment, affirmed by Aurelia motioning with her head toward the utility closet. After tucking it all away and washing his hands in the hallway, he slumped on a stool at the very end of the counter. It was getting close to closing time, and the crowd was dwindling. The music was starting to feel like more of an annoyance than anything else, as the desire for sleep began to outweigh the jovial nature of the remaining guests.

A few stragglers were finishing their drinks and conversations, and Aurelia had things mostly tidied up when she noticed Howzer still sitting dejectedly. She was struck by the change in his composure; she had become accustomed to seeing him jaunt around the place, chatting up a variety of females and acting like a general big shot. His friend was noticeably missing tonight, and she felt a sudden intrigue at his complete deflation.

"Thanks for taking care of that earlier," she said, ambling to the end of the bar to chat while she waited for the clock to signal her freedom. "And sorry you got sucker punched."

"That was definitely not how I envisioned that going," he replied, eyes looking up at her from a downcast face.

"Yeah, well... Things often take unexpected turns around here," she offered, studying his face as if it could offer a clue to the name he had shared before giving up. "I'm sorry... What was your name again?"

"Howzer," he muttered, "CT-2420."

"That's right," she said, still mystified by the drastic change in his behavior. She felt oddly moved by it, and it somehow reminded of her older brother when he was disappointed in himself. She glanced at the few remaining patrons, who didn't look close to being done, then back to Howzer. "Don't beat yourself up," she said gently.

"I know. It's just hard to envision my future as a Captain when I can't even handle a few obnoxious spike heads," Howzer answered. "Maybe the cushy life of following politicians around is all I'm suited for after all."

Aurelia smiled, relating to the youthful tendency to overreact to perceived failures. She placed a hand over his, and his head jerked up to look at her, shocked out of his despondency as she spoke, "Sometimes the steps that get us to where we need to be aren't what we think we need. But they can shape and prepare us in unexpected ways."

He regarded her thoughtfully, touched by her compassion and inexplicably drawn in by her dark eyes. "Sounds pretty wise," he mumbled. He was uncharacteristically lost for words; he usually had a whole variety of slick phrases and comebacks, but he felt empty somehow.

"That's why I work here," Aurelia quipped, offering a playful smile in an attempt to encourage him out of his discouraged state. He returned her smile with a small one of his own, and she pulled her hand back from his, checking the time. Thank the Maker, it was finally the end of her shift. She ventured into the room to shoo out the last few stragglers, and Howzer rose to his feet, helmet at his hip, waiting until just the two of them remained. He paused in the doorway, turning his head to Aurelia at a nearby table.

"Hey," he said softly, catching her attention, "Thank you."

***

shouldn't have barfed at the bar, amigo.

Feel free to tag a friend who loves Howzer, or comment to be added to the tag list! <3

@mary-on-the-contrary @doublesunsets @523rdrebel

#the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #commander howzer #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #clone trooper howzer #captain howzer #howzer #tbb howzer #the bad batch howzer #howzer x oc #the bad batch fic #the bad batch fluff #star wars fanfiction #star wars #star wars tbb #star wars howzer #star wars fanfic #star wars fic

[maes-flowers]

For them, for us [4] (Obi-wan Kenobi x Reader)

Summary: Following the Kenobi series, two former Jedi masters Obi-wan Kenobi and Y/n Marilla are grieving the lost of Anakin, Padme, and the jedi purge. After pledging to watch over Luke Skywalker and spending ten years in exile and making a life together, what will happen when the mistakes they made in their past come back as a new threat?

Authors note: If you like this series so far please like, reblog, and comment below! it helps alot and I really love to hear what people think! if you would like to be added to a taglist let me know down below as well.

Warnings: Descriptions of death, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, general couple behavior, idk man I really suck at warnings and I did not edit this that much lmfao im so sorry next chapter will be better I promise

Prologue- Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

The moment you arrived on the transport the first thing you noticed was Leia was nowhere to be found. You limped to the pilot's area where Tala sat, you must've fractured your foot when you kicked Vader's metal forearm. 

“Tala, where's Leia?”

The look of guilt on her face and the lack of response made that flare of fury spark in your bones again, you smacked a hand on the back of the pilot chair and spun her around.

“Where is Leia?” you said slowly.

“I had left her to come help you and Ben, I thought the passage was clear of anyone else when I left but when we came back she was gone and the transport was still here.” Tala explained calmly.

You stepped back, laughing in disbelief as you looked at Tala.

“You left a ten year old CHILD alone while the empire was hunting for her?!” you shouted. “Do you know how stupid that was?” 

Tala opened her mouth to speak but you cut her off.

“You worked for the empire, you have to know what inhumane things they do to people and you left a child at the hands of the people who torture and kill innocent people.” your voice cracked. 

Tala went to speak again but you shook your head.

“Get me and my husband to Jabiim now, the sooner Obi-wan heals the sooner we can make a plan to get Leia back.”

“I'm sorry Kilian, I truly am.” Tala apologized.

“Then prove it.” 

You didn't bother to say anything else, limping back to where Obi-wan had laid and Ned-B was watching him and his levels. You went to touch his face but froze when you caught a glimpse of your face in the reflection of the window.

Your eyes, or well just one eye was yellow, the color was a large contrast compared to your other eye that held your normal color. Your hand went up to your face, fingers moving over the newly corrupted eye.

You didn't bother to conceal the gasp that escaped your lips as the weight of what you did crashed over you like a tsunami. You had just gone against everything you stood for the majority of your life. Using the force for your own gain, letting your emotions control your actions, letting your attachment to Obi-wan grow unhealthy and possessive.

You walked backwards, away from the window and Obi-wan and pressed yourself against the wall to physically get yourself as far away from Obi-wan as you could. You let out a cry in pain as the rocks and rubble from when Vader force pushed you across the rough ground that still remained in the skin of your back pressed against the cool metal of the ship, the adrenaline from the fight long gone as you felt dry blood crack and shift across your skin.

“Y/n”

You looked at the voice and saw Tala standing by you, concerned on her face at your position.

“I'm sorry,” You whispered out defeatedly. “I didn't mean to treat you like that. I'm so sorry.”

Tala put a comforting hand on your shoulder, guiding you to sit down on the floor as she reached for the bag of supplies you gave her when you left her and Leia and pulled out the contents, placing them on the floor beside you.

“I'm going to lift your shirt, okay?” Tala said quietly.

You winced at the feeling of the fabric fibers clinging to your skin, the thread mingling with the blood as Tala lifted the shirt to show the expanse of your back. You bit your tongue as Tala began on removing the debris, the quiet clanking of the rocks hitting the metal floor.

“You're not a monster Y/n.” Tala murmured suddenly.

You turned your head slightly, trying to look at her but it was useless.

“How can you say that? You saw me back there with Vader and how I just treated you.” you said bitterly. 

“I think you're mistaking fighting to survive and to protect your loved ones as being wrong and evil. Monsters kill innocent people and take what they can from whoever they want, not caring for anyone's safety.” Tala explained, as she wiped the blood off your back with an antiseptic. The sting of it grounding you slightly as you listen to her speak.

“You feel regret and shame for something you did and thought it was wrong. That doesn't make you a monster, that makes you human.”

Her words doused the fire in you, the guilt and fear remained but had simmered down to a burning ember that was now much easier to tame and accept with a healthier mindset. You felt more like yourself and you realized how close you were to losing yourself in the dark.

Tala placed a bandage on your back, covering the now clean wounds and pulled the ruined shirt over your back again. You turned around so you could look at her face to face and gave her a tired smile.

“Your words mean more to me than you know, thank you.”

Tala smiled back and placed her hand on top of yours and gave a kind squeeze.

“I'm honored, and I promise you we will get Leia back.”

You and Tala sat on the ground for what felt like hours until the ship rattled as it entered the atmosphere, Tala helped you stand up your balanced shaky as you avoided putting weight on your injured foot as Tala went to land the ship while you limped to Obi-wan. He was somewhat conscious as he blinked in confusion, a pained gasp leaving his lips as the ship jostled his body as it landed. Putting a hand on his uninjured arm to keep him steady you leaned over him, his eyes unfocused gaze couldn't meet yours.

“Hold on baby, just hold on for a little longer.” you begged.

You stayed by his side until the hatch of the ship opened and two men came in and took him out on a stretcher, you went to follow but you yelped in pain when you put your full weight on the foot. Ned-B heard your cry and the droid walked over to you, his cold robotic hands wrapping under your legs and lifted you up and walked you out of the ship. Tala turned to  you as she walked alongside Obi-wan on the stretcher.

“We're taking Obi-wan to a Bacta tank! Ayla will help you with your foot and I will grab you in a moment!” Tala shouted before she walked around a corner. Ned-b walked you over to a cot and gently placed you on it as a woman walked over.

“Thank you Neb-B.” you smiled, patting your hand on its hard chest.

The woman kneeled down by your foot and gently lifted it, examining it with care. She hummed in thought before glancing up at you.

“Your fifth metatarsal is slightly fractured.” she explained as she slid off your boot and socks, her hand rested over the bruised skin.

You suddenly remembered your eye and froze, your hand coming up to cradle it. You didn't want these people to think you were sith.

“Ignore my eye,” you murmured nervously, scared of her reaction but all you received was a raised brow.

“Your eyes are fine, unless there's an issue you're having?” Ayla asked.

You put your hand down slowly, looking for anything that had a reflection but Ayla handed you a small mirror from her medkit and you held it up to your face. You smiled at your reflection, no yellow iris in sight, just the normal pigment.

“Did you hit your head commander?” Ayla asked and you blinked.

“I'm sorry? Did you just call me commander?” you asked in disbelief you haven't been called that in so long you almost forgot about it. Ayla just smirked her hands wrapping around your ankle and you could feel the bone in your foot mending back together.

“I was a medic for the 501st battalion, I helped when the infirmary was too full but I was a new jedi knight.” Ayla said before she pulled her hands away. “Does that feel better?”

You rolled your ankle and were pleased to feel no pain in the movement and slid your boot back on.

“It's perfect thank you, Ayla.” you grinned. “I have to go see how my husband is doing but I'm glad you were here.” you hoped she understood what you were trying to say.

“I’m glad you survived as well.” Ayla said kindly before she waved you off. “Please don't let me hold you back, go see your husband.”

 You followed the path you saw Tala take when you first arrived, avoiding shoulder checking people in the small area as you walked around the corner. However, you weren't expecting the large bacta tank to be in the center of the newly accessed area, the machine was lowering Obi-wan's crippled body into the tank. Jogging over you placed your hand on the glass, his body twitching over and over again.

“Y/n,” Tala called down from her spot on the stairs that led to the top of the tank, quickly coming down the steps to meet you. “Ben is fine. He will need to be in here for a few hours at least but there's a small wash area I want you to go and clean yourself off, I put clean clothes out for you as well.”

Your body screamed for a shower, it had been a long time even before everything happened with Leia that you had access to running water. You and Obi-wan had to opt for water canteens and rags when the time called for it in the barren desert. Your eyes casted nervously towards the tank again.

“He will be fine, I also don’t want to take the chance of any bacteria to get into the cuts on your back.”

That…made sense.

“Okay,” you relented. “Show me the way.”

Tala guided you to the small wash area, and she wasn't lying when she said it was small. It had a flimsy curtain that shielded what looked like a crevice in a cave small enough you didn't think you could hold your arms out if you wanted to.

“I know it's not perfect but-”

“Tala it's perfect, thank you.” you cut in, putting a kind hand on her shoulder.

“Alright, I'll see you soon and if Ben's condition changes I'll come get you.”

“Thank you.” you said again. “For everything.”

Tala just gave you a shy smile in response and left you alone. You sighed to yourself and clipped off your lightsaber, placed it next to the pile of clean clothes tala left and began to peel off the sweat and dirt covered layers before you undid the messy braid your hair had been in for the last two days.

You turned on the water and stepped under the spray, closing your eyes in bliss at the lukewarm water drenching your bruised skin. The bandage on your back surprisingly stayed on as you rubbed the dirt off your face, arms, legs, hair, and nails. Turning the water a murky shade of brown as it went down the drain.

You didn't give yourself the luxury of staying in for long, partially due to wanting to go back to Obi-wan and also the guilt of having a shower while Leia was stuck with imperials who were probably interrogating her at that very moment.

That thought alone made you turn the water off and roughly dry off with the small rag Tala had left hanging by the shower. You grabbed the simple pair of black linen pants as well as the simple light blue tunic and slipped them on, you had missed the feeling of clean clothes on your back.

 You quickly slid on a black cloak-like vest and your boots, strapped your lightsaber back on the harness on your thigh and made your way back to Obi-wan.

Only to find him no longer in the tank.

Your mind went to the worst case scenario; his injuries were to servere and the bacta tank couldn't do anything and he was dead.

“Tala!” you shouted looking around for your new friend, walking around quickly.

“In here!” she shouted, poking her head to the corner to a room you didn't even notice your first walk around. You sprinted in the room, your feet skidding and your wet hair whipping in your face at your abrupt stop in front of Tala.

“Where's Obi-wan? Is he okay? Why is he out of the tank? Is he dea-” you rapid fire question came to a halt when Tala simply stepped aside revealing Obi-wan standing in front of you, dressed in clean robes and alive. He had a look on his as he stared at you, one that made your gut twist violently you wanted to throw up.

He knows what you did, what you became for a brief moment.

“I'm so sorry.” you started. “I'm sorry for breaking our promise, for doing what I did, for leaving Leia-”

Obi-wan made the first move quickly, coming up to you and pulling you in his arms, one hand smoothing the hair on the back of your head and the other wrapping around your back. His head was bruised on the top of your head while yours was shoved into the crook of neck.

“You're still the woman I love, that's all that matters to me.” he leaned and whispered for your ears only. “Thank you for doing what you did to protect me.”

You pulled away, running a hand through the now clean hair thanks to sitting in the bacta tank and pulled him close to kiss him just two quick pecks on his chapped lips and pulled away, your hand placed on his chest as you looked up at him with fierce determination.

“Let's get our niece back.”

🖾

“Roken.” Tala called out, guiding you and Obi-wan into another area of the cave. You saw large men kneeled down working on a small machine, he looked behind him and shook his head when he spotted you.

“They shouldn't be here.” Roken spat out.

“I know you're upset, but-” Tala was cut off when Roken stood up and walked over.

“I mean it,” he said sternly. “Get them on the first transport out of here.”

You crossed your arms behind your back and shuffled in place, the tension growing faster and faster each second as he pointed at the two of you.

“Too many people are looking for you, you put us all in danger!”

“We need your help.” Obi-wan said.

“So does every kid making a rock float from here to Coruscant!” Roken countered.

“Someone very important to us has been taken, we need your help to get her back.” You argued.

“I'm sorry general and commander but that's not my problem.”

“I wish that were true.” retorted Obi-wan.

Roken sighed and shook his head, walking away but the three of you trailed behind him closely.

“She knows everything. Where we are, what we're doing.” Tala argued. “Roken, if she finds us then we need to prepare for an evacuation.”

“I can't just shut everything down, Tala. everything runs outta here.” Roken dismissed as he leaned down in front of  a control pad.

“Then help us get her back,”  Obi-wan insisted. “You've no idea what the empire is capable of.”

Roken did not like that comment, turning around with an angry look and pointed at you

“This is your wife?” he asked.

“Yes.” Obi-wan said cautiously.

“I had a wife once, just like yours. I knew exactly what she was before we got married and we tried to hide it, but the inquisitors found her anyway! So I know exactly what the empire is capable of.” he fumed.

“Roken,” you spoke softly, he turned to you and you placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know you care for everyone here and you want them safe and I respect you greatly for that, but without your help another life just like how your wife's life was brutally taken away will happen again.”

Rokens face softened at your words and he looked down for a moment before looking back at you.

“Look, if you want my help, you got it.” he offered and you dropped your hand from his shoulder and nodded.

“Tell us everything you know.”

Roken nodded and gestured to you to follow him, leading you to a meeting room that had a small holotable in the center. You, Obi-wan, Tala, Roken, and two others hovered around the table.

Roken smacked the holotable a couple times before the hologram popped up showing a planet. You were standing in between Tala and Obi-wan leaning against the table as Roken zoomed in.

“Nur, it's a water moon,” he said. “We got this off the grid while it was being built, it's all we have but it's in the Mustafar system.”

“That's Vader's system.” Tala pointed out.

“Is Vader there?” Obi-wan asked.

“We don’t think so, our intel shows he is still on his ship but he's close.”

“So that's it?” A scrawny man said from across the table. “Fortress inquisitorius.” 

A woman looked over at the man and glared at him.

“It's impenetrable, Wade.”

You scratched your cheek in thought.

“How far down do you think it goes?” you wondered out loud.

“No idea,” Roken shrugged. “It's their base of operations so it probably has a command center, a training facility.”

“Truth is, nobody knows what it looks like.” The woman next to Drew said. Obi-wan leaned in at the table and tilted his head.

“I don't see any shields.”

“That's because no one would be stupid enough to attack them.” Roken replied.

“We could take those speeders, go at night.” Obi-wan pointed behind him. “I saw some T-47s in the hangar.” he suggested.

“It's suicide.” Roken said.

“Yeah well, we're not soldiers. Those speeders are for hauling sewage.” The woman said.

You stood up straight and planted your hand on the table, catching everyone's attention.

“You may not be soldiers, but we are.” you said, gesturing to you and Obi-wan. Which was the truth, you didn't give three years of your life for nothing. “She's ten years old, we won't leave her there and we’ll go on our own.”

“Your friend can barely stand and I don't think you could handle the base all by yourself.” the woman said, making you raise a brow.

“Wanna bet?” you glared.

“I'll go with them.” Tala chimed in and everyone looked over at her in surprise. “Well, I have officer clearance. I can get you inside and I can get you access .”

Obi-wan stood up from his spot and stepped closer to her, his brow creased deeply.

“Is your cover still intact?”

Tala shook her head, unsure from Obi-wan's question.

“We’ll find out soon enough.”

“Tala-”  you spoke, worry evident on your face as you looked at your friend.

“We're wasting time, get my ship fueled and ready.” Tala demanded, cutting you off. She didn't give you a chance to speak again before she stormed off.

🖾

Your head rested on Obi-wan's lap as you tried to get much rest after your fight with Vader, you had tried to convince Obi-wan to rest as well but he refused politely. Your eyes were half opened as the family hum of the ship rocked you gently into an almost asleep state but the sound of a small object dragging against metal kept you awake. You twisted your hand and pulled the object to you and gripped it tight in your hand.

“Stop trying to force it Obi” you mumbled tiredly. “You heard what Tala said earlier, your mind needs to heal as well.”

You adjusted yourself to lay on your back rather than your side and looked up at Obi-wan and handed back the object you now recognized was the holoprojector Bail had given Obi-wan years ago. He looked down at you with a disappointed face, slightly dejected at his rusted skill.

“How are you feeling?” you asked.

“I’m okay,” he answered. “Sore, but okay.”

Anakin played a cheap shot, clearly still bitter from Obi-wan leaving him after he burned and wanted payback. You were glad to see that only his arm was damaged compared to his former padawans disabled state.

“How did you do it?” he asked quietly and you looked at him in confusion.

“Do what?”

“How were you able to fight him…” he paused for a moment. “Like he wasn't Anakin.”

You were quiet for a moment as you gathered your thoughts.

“I didn't care,” you admitted. “Not when the dark side had me in its grips, all I wanted was revenge. To make him suffer like he made you suffer, like he made Padme suffer, like he made those kids suffer.” you closed your eyes when you felt him run a hand through your hair. 

“I care now though,”  you whispered. “Even when I know I shouldn't and when I saw what it did to my eye and how scared I felt when I let my emotions get the best of me I can't imagine what Anakin felt when it first happened to him.”

You opened your eyes again and sat up, Obi-wan followed your movement with his eyes as you put a hand on his knee.

“I feel terrible about it, but at the same time I'm glad I did it. It felt so wrong leaving you like that…I don't even want to think about what would've happened if I left you there.” 

“I shouldn't have asked you to do that, knowing how stubborn you are I should've known you would come after me.”

You chuckled lightly at the statement.

“From here on out, we do this together, as a team.” you said, holding out your hand. “Deal?”

Obi-wan hesitated for a long moment but eventually grabbed your hand and shook it, you lifted your conjoined hands and kissed his knuckles, your personal way of sealing the deal.

Tala walked in, she was dressed back in her imperial uniform as she hovered by the door, the look on her face was serious.

“We’re almost there, I'll drop the ship low enough above the water for you two to jump in and from there I'll override one of the underwater entrances to get you in.” she handed you and Obi-wan breathers. “Be ready in about three minutes.”

You quickly prepared, removing the pouch attached to you to avoid anything more to weigh you down while you swan and braided your hair to be out of your face. You were nervous, unsure what you'd witness in the fortress but you refused to let that make you hesitate.

“You ready?” Tala asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, glancing at Obi-wan who also gave a confirm nod “Open the hatch!”

The damp wind rushed over your body as the hatch opened, the sound of the roaring engine loud in your ears as you looked over the edge. The drop down to the water looked about thirty three feet, the height made you swallow nervously.

“Don’t think, don't think, don't think!” you shouted to yourself over the wind before placing the breather into your mouth and jumped.

You couldn't hear Obi-wan's worried shout as you leaped, quickly crossing your arms and keeping your legs straight as possible as you plunged into the bluish green water. Everything around you went deathly quiet as the water filled your ears. Your surroundings are slightly blurry underwater but you could make out the explosion of bubbles as Obi-wan entered the water. You began to swim to the large building, fish and other creatures floating past you as you pushed yourself through the slightly murky water.

“I'm overriding an entry point, it should be right ahead of you.” Talas' voice appeared in your ear though the commlink. You and Obi-wan swan ahead, the entry opening above you slowly as you swan to the top.

When you dragged yourself out of the entrance, the small room was silent beside you and Obi-wan wringing out your water logged clothes. The sound of water splashing on the smooth black floor echoed loudly. The two of you went to the doors, each of you against the wall on either side as you heard the hiss of the doors sliding open and a stormtrooper walking in to investigate the noise. Obi-wan acted quickly, jumping forward and wrapping his arms around the soldiers neck and dragged him back to the pool of water and held him tightly until he went limp in his arms. He tossed the unconscious body into the water and came back to the door, pulling out his commlink.

“We’re in.” he said, his voice low and rough as he stalked forward in the hall. You haven't seen him this focused and aggressive in so long you forgot how good it looked on him. You cleared your throat and refocused, this wasn't the time to think about how good Obi-wan looked.

“Where is she, Tala?” you whispered.

“Detention areas in a secure sector, just keep heading north.”

Suddenly Obi-wan yanked on your arm and shoved you  against the wall. You braced yourself for your head to hit the hard metal at the quick move but was relieved to feel Obi-wan's hand cradling the back of your head as he pressed himself closely to you. His large frame  was blocking your view but you heard the quiet hum of a droid go past you.

“Seeker droids.” He whispered into his commlink, guiding you to hide around the corner.

“I see it,” Tala confirmed. “It looked like they're everywhere, you'll need to-” her voice cut out.

“Tala?” you asked. “Tala, can you hear me?” you called out worriedly.

You and Obi-wan sprinted as the seeker droid rounded the corner again, stealthily running over to another hall and quickly shut it.  You crouched down low as Obi-wan stood straight against the wall when it came up to the door and peered into the small window. You held your breath as it scanned for any life forms, only releasing it when you heard it float away.

“Tala?” Obi-wan called out.

There was no response.

The sound of footsteps coming down the hall made you curse.

“Maker, give me a break.” you hissed, you and Obi-wan splitting off and climbing behind the large slanted beams supporting the building across each other. Your body leaned back awkwardly against the metal.

“This place gives me the creeps.” A stormtrooper commented to his buddy.

“Hopefully we won't be stationed here for long.” he replied.

Yours and Obi-wan's commlink crackled as Talas voice on the other line spoke out.

“Ben?”

You quickly covered the commlink speaker with you hand when the stormtroopers froze.

“Did you hear that?”

You leaned to the side and saw them pull out their blaster and retreat back down the hall where they came, you began to panic when they stepped forward to look directly where Obi-wan was hiding but a sudden thump in the distant made them turn their head

“Over there, let's go.” One of the troopers pointed out, running down the hall.

You leaped down from your spot and looked at Obi-wan, a proud look on your face as you walked quickly the opposite way the troopers went. His strength within the force was already returning and it made you happier than you wanted to admit.

“What happened?” Obi-wan whispered, glancing behind the both of you to make sure no one was following you.

“I had some company, but it's been taken care of.” Tala assured him.

🖾

You felt like you've been walking down the same hall for hours now, each hall being a bland duplicate of the last with the occasional turn. The same door being the same dull gray over and over again.

You might lose your mind.

“Ben. Y/n. Where are you?” Tala asked as you turned another corner.

“I think we just found the secure sector.” Obi-wan said and you glanced up. This door was different, it still had the same gray matt finish but on each side had a bright red Imperial symbol on each side. Obi-wan put the key in and the doors revealed another hall doused in a dark red light, Leia had to be close. You started to run, only stopping when a new door had to be opened. Being so focused in made you run halfwaythrough  another hall before you even processed the new shade of golden orange surrounding you. Looking over at Obi-wan, who now had a horrified look on his face.

“Obi, what's wrong-” you asked, looking to see what he was staring at only for your words to die on your tongue. A sea of rows upon rows of bodies encapsulated in an amber looking substance, a multitude of species frozen in time before your very eyes.

“What is it?” Talas asked.

“I think we just found out what was hiding down here.” Obi-wan said slowly, discomfort very evident in his voice. “This place isn't a fortress.” 

“It's a tomb.” you muttered appalled at what you were seeing as you began to walk slowly back to where Obi-wan was. multiple jedis, women, men, and even a few padawans with their training helmets still on. You swallowed the bile climbing up the back of your throat when you say one child's peculiar terrified face.

“Is this the reason inquisitors are hunting us? To harvest Jedi?” you gaped.

Obi-wan froze at one specific person, his face visibly paling so much you could see the color leave his face from a couple feet away.

“What's wrong?” You asked alarmed.

“Y/n, don’t come over here.” Obi-wan said seriously.

That tone he used made you even more nervous and you moved to see what he was looking at but he quickly mauvered coming at you at a freakish speed and pulled you away. You fought against his grip as he wrapped his arms around your chest.

“Obi-wan, let me go.” you grunted angrily, as you twisted in his grip. “Obi-wan!”

Your hands came to his and you had to use the force to give you enough strength to counter his  to pry his hands away from you which allowed you to then rip his arms off of you and ran to where Obi-wan a moment before. 

Once you processed what you were looking at you desperately wished you listened to him. Hovering in front of you. A tholothian woman, with golden umber skin, and purple eyes stared back at you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, the blood from your own face draining away.

You knew those eyes.

“Master Stass?” you breathed out, the air in your lungs being ripped away by the invisible force that was grief. It seemed the world beneath you shifted, like a tectonic plate giving you your own personal earthquake. You pressed your hand on the glass and dropped your head, a silent sob racking over your body.

Your body was basically limp when Obi-wan dragged you away from your former master. his arms around your back being the only holding you as you buried your face in his chest, a broken scream ripped from your throat that was muffled by the thick material of Obi-wan's tunic.

“I know,” Obi-wan soothed, his head bruised in your hair and he held you tight. “I'm so sorry.”

Of course he knew. he had lived through the same loss of Qui-gon all those years ago, but then you were both Padawans and the roles you and Obi-wan were in now were revered.

You were tired of crying and constantly losing things you loved and cared about due to the empire.

“Young Padawan, you wear your heart on your sleeve.” Master Stass kneeled down in front of you.

You looked up at her with red eyes, the council had pulled you aside after a mission went wrong due to you protecting  another jedi who got injured during battle resulting in you leaving your station. The council had given you a very strict talk about attachments and the adhering to jedi code and warning if you were to mess up again you'd be suspend and or expelled from the order.

“You were wrong, master.” you wiped away your tears with your sleeve. “I'm not meant to be a jedi, the council even said my emotions are hindering me.”

Which was true, in a sense. You've grown very serious attachments to your master and Obi-wan. The woman who basically raised you and the man who is your closest friend and secretly loved. The fear of losing them was something that followed you through every sunrise and every sunset. You've had issues of forcvison'sns being triggered, most of them happening when you lost a grip on your emotions and they were beginning to hinder you in multiple aspects of your training.

 But those attachments made you want to be better, to train harder and to protect fiercely.

How could that be bad?

“You are a person who is very in tune with your feelings,  but I do not perceive that as a bad thing young one as that is how the force created you.” Master stass put a hand under your chin and lifted it gently, a gesture for you to hold your head high. “Do not think of a thing  you cannot change as a weakness, use it to its potential to do good in a healthy way. Wear your strengths and flaws with pride and through that I believe you will be a great jedi one day my young apprentice, perhaps one that can show a new way of life.”

You shook your head.

“Master, the council said emotions and attachment were-” 

Master Stass held out a hand, silencing you.

“Trust in the force, if you ever stray away I will guide you home.”

You came back to your face still buried in Obi-wan's chest, your tears made the material wet as it soaked up your grief. You pulled away to look at the man in front of you, who quietly wiped away your tear tracks with the pads of his thumbs as he looked at you with worry. Stepping away from him you slowly went back to your beloved master.

“Master,” you spoke softly, your hand pressing against the glass as you looked in her eyes. “I'm sorry I couldn't protect you like you protected me. The loss is a part of me now but I will use these feelings to protect the people still here.”

“Help, somebody help. Please!” Leia's voice echoed through the force, disnat and scared. You looked at Obi-wan in fear.

“Tala,” Obi-wan said urgently. “We need a distraction!”

“Why, what happened?”

“Just do it, now!” you shouted and you began to run again.

The closer you got to Leia the stronger you felt her through the force, her fear acting as a guide to where she is.

“There!” you pointed out a door with another red symbol on it, you ran to open it but Obi-wan called out to you. He pointed out the electrical panels that controlled the lights and doors to that room and pulled out his lightsaber and slashed the panel. The door opened, leading to a large interrogation room, with a red circle on the floor illuminating the room just enough for you to see two stormtroopers guarding Leia. 

You moved quickly, moving to the one on the right. Your footsteps light against the tile as you creeped up behind them and slowly raise your lightsaber to their temple and activate the weapon.  The trooper let out a quiett grunt as the blade entered through one side of his head and through the other before drooping to the ground. Obi-wan went full aggressor and repeatedly attacked the trooper before they also dropped dead. 

Running to where Leia was strapped down you and Obi-wan quickly undid the restraints and placed her on the ground. Getting on your knees you smiled widely at the sight of her being unharmed.

“You're both alive, they told me you were dead.” she frowned. 

You pulled a stray hair covering her forehead and tucked it away behind her ear.

“We’re okay. They wouldn't have been able to kill us before we got you home, we’re far too stubborn for that. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“I didn't tell them anything.” she promised.

“We know.” Obi-wan said gently. “Come with us, we're going to get you home.” 

🖾

You ran through the maze of halls again as Obi-wan held onto Leia's hand, keeping your head down as you passed through the tomb again. Focusing on the fact there was nothing you can do about your master without endangering Leia, Obi-wan, and yourself. 

Focused on trying to get out of the base and watching for troopers you totally forgot about the seeker droids roaming around the halls until the three of you were walking down the hall and heard the obnoxious alarm beeping right behind you, cursing as it began to follow you.

“This is fine, it's just us around here. I'll just break the droid with my saber before the laram sounds.” you said getting you saber ready right as the main alarm began to go off, the sound echoing off the walls. “Okay, nevermind. Run. Run. Run!”  

Obi-wan whipped out his commlink.

“Tala! We're out in the open!” Obi-wan shouted.

There was no response for a moment but soon enough you heard a panting Tala call back.

“Where are you?”

You didn't get a chance to respond as a blaster shot whizzed by your ear, turning on your lightsaber you lunged and deflected a shot from hitting Leia right in the back. You force pulled the seeker droid to you and sliced the machine in half while Obi-wan continued to send the two stormtroopers at the end of the hall blaster shots back their way. One of the shots went through the chest of the stormtrooper on the left leaving one standing. Obi-wan moved fast and closed in on him before spinning and cutting them in half, spinning his saber in a dramatic flare.

“Come on, follow Ben!” you ushered Leia quickly, deflecting blasts from two more troopers before running away.

The scenery changed once you turned down a new hall, the walls now showing the underwater landscape against the window panes instead of matte black like before. Multiple stormtroopers and a few imperial workers swarmed both the entryways in the halls.

“Hide!” Obi-wan told Leia, who ran to hide behind a lip of the window seal. Blocking herself from the fire of blaster shots. Obi-wan deflected the shot with ease, his mastery of the Soresu form still very much intact, tight and controlled. Focusing on defensive rather than offense. You never mastered one form of lightsaber combat, your arenal of combat moves continually pulling from the Ataru and Djem So forms. Preferring speed and using your strength in the force to use aggressive attacks.

You ran and dropped to the floor, sliding across the smooth material of the floor and sliced the enemies legs off, their dismembered upper half thumping beside you. Shoving ther body away from you stood up and found your back pressed against Obi-wan's working as a team to take down the ever growing group of stormtroopers. 

“Just like old times huh, Kenobi?!” you grunted as the ache in your arms grew.

One of the blaster shots Obi-wan deflected and smacked the control panel, closing the door as another wave of stormtroopers and shocktroopers were coming at you. The blastershot malfunctioning the door making it stuck.

“Ben the window!” Leia shouted.

You and Obi-wan turned and saw a large crack in the glass, the crack webbing out and growing larger and larger as each second passed. Obi-wan shot his hand out, preventing the glass from shattering and drawing you all. The troopers began to pry the door open but you held your hands out and fought to keep the doors closed with the force, however it was a fast losing battle with one person against seven.

“Ben. Y/n!” Tala shouted, finally finding your small group.

“Tala!” you shouted out relieved to see her okay.

“Tala get her out of here, i'll hold it!.” Obi-wan grunted out as the crackling of the glass grew larger. You looked back at Obi-wan, sweat growing on your face as you fought desperately to hold the door closed.

“Tell me when!” you shouted.

Obi-wan moved his hand, the cracking sound of the glass growing louder the closer it traveled to you.

“Now!”

You dropped you hand and ran back right as the glass shattered and a wave of water came crashing down the hall, side sweeping the troopers.

“Run!” Tala screamed at the both of you.

You and Obi-wan stumbled forward, jumping over the dead bodys and ran for your life as the water roared after you. Tala smacked the control panel right before you and OBi-wan ran through, the doors closing right before the water could escape with floating bodys drifting around like a fish in a tank. Water began to seep from the seal of the door as you caught your breath.

“That's not going to hold for long.” Tala said, kneeling down and handing you and Obi-wan a coat from the two imperial workers on the floor. 

“Put these on.”

🖾

“There's no way this is going to work.” you mumbled under your breath walking beside Tala as Obi-wan hid Leia under his coat. Her small body created a large lump on his right side as the four of you walked across the landing dock. Imperials were everywhere you looked, everyone panicking as the alarm still blared repeatedly through the large base.

“Almost there.” Tala muttered.

You kept your head down, not having a hat to cover your face as you kept a nervous hand on your lightsaber in your pocket. The dock was cleaning up from people, soon enough you would be off this planet.

“A traitor!” a voice shouted loudly.

The four you spun around and saw the third sister, saber drawn with a small army of stormtroopers and shocktroopers behind her.

“A child and an old couple. Was it worth it?” the third sister sneered. “Betraying everything you are?”

Obi-wan pushed Leia behind him while you stepped behind Leia, the two of you created a small area of protection for her as you began to be surrounded with blasters pointed all around you.

“This was never who I was.” Tala said.

The third sister raised her lightsaber at her menacingly.

“Then you die, for nothing”

You put a hand on Leia's shoulder, anxiety bubbling in you as even more blasters were raised. You closed your eyes prepared to get shot when you heard the loud rumble of a ship appear above you. Looking up as two fighter ships flew down and began shooting at the imperials surrounding you, loud explosions and fire quickly invading the area. You snagged a balster off the ground and urged everyone to move. You, Tala, and Obi-wan fought off the few stragglers as you moved closer to the edge of the landing dock as the third sister followed.

The second figthershipped landed roughly on the ground sparks flying as the top of the ship came down and Sully poked her head out.

“Get in!” she shouted.

You quickly lifted Leia into the ship and followed her before leaning out the window to pull Obi-wan and Tala up. The top closing as the first figthership began to shoot at the third sister, distracting her from getting any closer. The ship shot off, you stumbled at the speed as Sully yelled at Wade to stop his attack.

Not being able to see what was going on, the sound of an explosion made you flinch as a pained shout came from Sully, calling out to her friend. 

🖾

The air was solemn when you walked onto the main ship, everyone walked slowly as equations and disappointed tugged at your bones. Roken walked in smiling, but his face quickly fell when he was the dejected looks on everyone's face.

“Where's Wade?” he asked.

There the lack of response gave Roken his answer, he closed his eyes and sighed.

“I guess your soldiers now.” you said, turning to Tala. “I'd get the girl a drink.”

Tala nodded sadly and walked off while Sully sat down. 

Shrugging off the imperial jacket, you went to the window and watched Nur fade away in the distance. The guilt of having to leave Mater Stass alone on that planet ate away at you.

“Are you okay?” Leia asked.

You turned around and saw her sitting by Obi-wan, who also looked at you in concern. The sight of them alone made the loss more bearable, you may not have been able to help your master but at the very least they were okay. 

“Yeah, I'm okay.” you smiled sadly.

Leia looked down at Obi-wan's hand and reached up placing hers on top of his, he looked down and looked at her so softly it made emotion grip at your chest as he turned his hand and gingerly held her hand, rubbing a comforting thumb across the back of Leia's hand. The two smiled at each, providing each other a comfort they didn't know they needed.

Taglist:

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#obi wan #obi wan fluff #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x y/n #obi wan imagine #obi wan fic #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars prequels #star wars the clone wars #ewan mcgregor #anakin skywalker

[hausofmamadas]

| Always short to the gate |

⁂

Pairing: David Barrón & Enedina Arellano Félix

For my df, dear friend, and fellow writer @purplesong1028 - Candyhearts Exchange 2023

Word count: ≈ 7.8K

TWs: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of violence

✷Disclaimer - This is an AU version of Barron, to the point that mans is essentially my OC. So, for purposes of morality/sanity/all that is holy, we disregard Nmx - S3, ep8, Last Dance. For more details, refer -> here. On a similar note: if I have to say “not condoning/glorifying the real people” aka “I don’t sanction the real-life actions of drug cartels,” I implore thee, look where you are. You’re in the wrong place. Best take that elsewhere porque no hay bronca, for civility's sake, we will not be going there✷

Still, these were all things to wish for, not to have. What was left now? What if some things were better dreamt than done? David Barron is in love. He's in love and he does care who knows it. Particularly, if the brutal, savage cartel-boss brothers of the woman he loves, Enedina Arellano Felix, know it. But what’s he to do when he's taken by another powerful cartel leader, in retaliation for Dina's secret side-project moving coke across the Tijuana/San Ysidro border with fellow drug baroness, Isabella Bautista? In the face of a potentially more imminent death para su rayo de luna, can Dina afford to keep both him, and the business she built from the ground up, a secret?

⁂

So, this is it. I finally made it. Staring at the crowd, all the bigwigs laughing and clinking their champagne flutes, and now that I’m here, I can’t figure what all the fuss was about. Because in my whole damn life, I’ve never been to a party like this. Frankly, I’d sooner hit up a barbecue at Chato’s grandma’s trailer or a tailgate in Chicano Park, than show up willingly to a place like this.

The guest list is a family tree of Sinaloan-born narcos and an obnoxious who’s-who of Mexico City elites. Men come down from the ivory tower to grace all the thieves and plebes. Fat cats in pressed gray suits. Although, the champagne-glass pyramid is pretty cool. And somehow, this isn’t even as lavish as last year? At least according to Ramón. When we arrive, he explains that there was still all of well ... everything. But last year kicked off harder because Güero and Co rolled through with a life-size train and a tiger in a gilded cage. A fucking tiger.

“Pendejos only did it to kiss Miguel’s ass, que sean tan mamónes,” he growls, shooting a dead-eyed stare at Chapo across the lawn.

I laugh into the highball glass I’m sipping from. I don’t normally drink at events like this, and on the off chance I do, always a Corona with a lime ‘cause it reminds me of home. But thank you, no. I would not like to keep my tab open.

Except this time, the over-interested hostess practically forces a drink on me when we get there. No clue who she is either, except she must’ve been a high-roller herself or at least married to one, based on the obscene dress she’s wearing. Fuck if I know a thing about designer shit, but I can spot the difference between black-tie and fuck-you money. And I’m not in the habit of saying “no” to fuck-you money. Even if she is smiling and touching my shoulder too much.

My eyes wander, looking for Dina, brooding an invisible SOS into the night air, hoping she might swoop in and save me, but she’s nowhere in sight. Neither is Mín. I smack Ramón in the chest with the back of my hand. “Oye, dónde está tu hermana?” <'Hey, where is your sister?'>

He shakes his head.

The fuck did she go? The only reason I’m even at this glorified peacock-fest, and— oh wow, yeah, there are actual peacocks wandering around on the lawn by the lake. No tigers, but of course the night isn’t complete without some form of exploited wildlife. No, the only reason I’m here is because she asked me. Or rather, because of what came out when she asked me.

✺

Dina sat on Mín’s desk, legs dangled over the side, smoking a cigarette like always, and eyeing me slyly from across the room as I buttoned my shirt back up.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you?” I asked, readjusting my collar.

“What?”

“That it’s rude to stare.”

She threw her head back, laughing.

“Yeah, they must’ve had some lesson at whatever charm school you probably went to.”

Her mouth dropped open in mock outrage, “Charm school? No me digas esas shingaderas, hombre. I wasn’t as poor as you but we didn’t have that kind of money.” <Charm school? Don't give me that bullshit, man. I wasn’t as poor as you but we didn’t have that kind of money.>

I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, “Ah, tu lo sabes? Tienes razón. <Ah, you know what? You're right.> Because the working-class shit I’ve heard outta your mouth?” and shook my head. “They wouldn’t have let you in the building.”

She snapped her fingers. “Sí, David. Now he’s getting it.”

“Well, then that would explain it.”

“Explain what?”

“Why you don’t know it’s rude to stare at someone like that.”

Her voice shot up half an octave into the range of feigned innocence. “Like what?”

“Like they’re dessert.”

“Es solo porque eres tan dulce. <It's just because you're so sweet.> Maybe I just can’t get enough. Maybe I have no choice.”

I looked up at her, smiling wide, all love-struck-stupid ‘cause I couldn’t help myself. “‘Can’t get enough,’ like you didn’t just get a three course meal.”

She kicked her heels against the desk, then hopped off and strolled over. I made a face when she flicked her cigarette on the ground and stamped it out. “Your brother’s gonna hate that.”

“Ya lo sé, y no me importa ni una mierda.” <Oh, I know and I don't give a shit.>

“Oh, sí? Pues lo haría tampoco <Oh, yeah? Well, I wouldn't either> pero the second he sees it, he’ll think I did it.”

Voice dropping just above a whisper, she came closer, “If he does, he can take it up with me,” and slid her hands under my shirt. “It’s as much mine as it is his. Maybe more even.”

They felt cold through the thin, ribbed fabric of my undershirt, gliding around my waist, creeping around to brush my lower back with her fingertips. At first, I thought she was going for my pant pockets, until her thumb hooked around the handle of the gun in my waistband. It startled me in spite of myself.

She smirked, practically presenting it, barrel pointed up at the ceiling. “Sorry, were you gonna need this? Or can we remove the ‘fire’ hazard.”

Taking the gun and grumbling, “You know there’s a safety, right,” I leaned over and set it on the filing cabinet against the wall.

When I turned my attention back to her, she tightened her grip around my waist suddenly and backed me up against the door. She tried bracing with her other arm so I wouldn’t fall back too hard. It didn’t work. A second thud, my head smacking the door, followed the first of it slamming shut. Still, the though that counts, right? My pained smile complemented a look of amused pity on her face.

Laughing, she winced and mouthed, “Shit, sorry!”

“So, this is how you treat your employee—“ she cut me off with a few well-timed, remorseful kisses.

She pulled back breathlessly, grinning, almost electrified. “Yeah, why do you think I took your gun away?”

“Mmm, yeah, would’ve been a hazard.”

“That, yes. But mostly I didn’t want you to feel like you were on the clock,” she murmured against my mouth, “this isn’t meant to be company time,” then caught my lower lip gently with her teeth.

I sucked in a harsh breath, not a chance in hell of suppressing the feral rumble already escaping the back of my throat.

It might’ve been fine. I might’ve been able to tear myself away, because we’d already been there too long, nevermind it was never long enough.

Until her lashes brushed my cheek and I heard, “Ah, how I love to hear you, guapo.”

My heart bottomed out in my stomach. I got ahold of the collar of her jacket on both sides. Rocking her back, easy and gentle, I slid it slow off her shoulders. Goosebumps followed the path of my fingertips across her neck, collarbones, down the backs of her arms. The metal buttons clinked against the floor. A bell announcing another round.

And all of a sudden, I couldn’t get at her fast enough.

I swept my arm around her waist, hand sliding into the curve of the small of her back, the other palming the spot between her shoulder blades to flatten her against me. If I could just bring her close enough for us to melt together and into the wood grain of the door, the better to freebase the air she breathed, the smell of her hair, the blood rushing to her face.

How many nights had I spent awake, staring at the cracked plaster ceiling of my cell, dreaming of moments like this. I’d lost count a long time ago. And okay, maybe not exactly like this. The feeling. The wholeness to it. But not the details. Like I never could’ve predicted the boxy radio with the giant antenna that played from its sketchy spot on the window ledge, too close to the edge; day in and day out while we worked. Or the way the sun lit the dust in the air like the office was an attic in an old house that wasn’t ours. And Dina, all nimble fingers now, working my belt buckle. No way I could’ve dreamt her up. She was too complete for that.

Still, these were all things to wish for, not to have. What was left now? What if some things were better dreamt than done?

Suddenly self-aware, I wondered what it’d be like if just now, she could feel that inferno of memories at the tip of my tongue, burning through my lips to hers. If she could learn, inhaling every breath I took, things I’d share without saying a word. I wished she could. Maybe that’s why her kisses were so urgent now. Sharp, demanding, like she couldn’t get close enough. Like she’d occupy the exact same space if she could.

Don’t hide. Let me in. Anything. Tell me anything.

She was funny like that. Didn’t even know how far she’d gotten. So much further than most.

Lips still locked to mine like cross examining a witness, her hands grazed my jaw, my neck, practically mauling the collar of my shirt to get the buttons undone. I should’ve known not to bother earlier. This was the way it went with us. Part of the ritual, pretending we were done. Getting ready to leave, all raw nerves in the afterglow. Anxious awareness, never far behind not-near-enough satisfied. Because no matter how careful we were, there was a chance we’d be caught all the same. But we were never ready. Not really. So, we’d stall enough to justify starting up again. Living in each other as much as we could. Wringing out every last drop to bottle it up, a fail-safe supply for later. Another bump, another hit to tide us over. ‘Til next time. If we got one.

She’d only made it two buttons down when we both froze. A crashing sound, loud echoes of metallic clanging. Fuck. Someone on the main floor. We repelled to opposite sides of the room before we could think long enough to be disappointed.

I fixed my shirt, then grabbed Dina’s jacket from the floor and tossed it to her. “You said no one was supposed to be here till tonight?”

She caught it, draping it over one arm so she could get her cigarette holder out of one of the pockets. Trying her level best to look composed, she took one out and lit up. But I could see the tells; beads of sweat on her forehead; that too-quick rise and fall of her chest.

Eyes wide, she shrugged, at a loss. “They’re not. Pancho’s with Món at the racetrack. Apparently betting against some new horse Güero and Chapo brought up from Mazatlán. Mín’s taking Ruth to one of her appointments.”

I walked to the window and looked out onto the main floor. It was easy to make out a head of black hair bobbing just beyond the giant, industrial-sized forklift, partially blocking my view. My eyes followed it along the top of the forklift’s arm until Nestor came out from behind it, puttering around and practically strangled by a few long chains from one of the trucks. He swore, dropping them again. Poor guy. The links jittering against the cement floor filled the warehouse with what sounded like twisted, metallic laughter. Mocking him. Us.

“Who is it?” She asked it like she wasn’t looking out the same window.

Without a word, I turned and walked back toward the door. She followed, “Pinshe Nestor, este wey &lt;Nestor, this fuckin' guy>,” waving her hand dismissively at the window.

I couldn’t resist. “Mmm right? Fuck that guy. Yea, go yell at him, chew him out, tell him why you’re annoyed.”

She narrowed her eyes but in that way she did when she was stifling a smile. When she knew I was right.

“You know, it didn’t occur to me until this moment.” Sighing and cupping my chin gently, she turned my face from side-to-side to examine it. “But I think I just realized why you’re so quiet.”

My eyebrow shot up, not a clue where she was going with this.

“It’s this smart mouth of yours,” she mused, grazing my lip with her thumb, “gotten you into too much trouble.”

I brought her hand from my cheek to my lips and hummed into her palm, “Mm, mhmm,” before nibbling a few besitos across. “Funny coming from you, always trying to get me to talk. But only when you like what I have to say.”

“Ay chulito pues, I didn’t say I minded it,” she winked. “Just not when it’s used against me.”

“Mm yea, don’t play that way. I’m an equal opportunity offender.”

At that, she laughed, eyes closed, full-out, no doubt loud enough to be heard on the first floor. Remembering Nestor, I let her hand drop but held onto the tips of her fingers. I couldn’t be sure how long we stayed like that, twining and un-twining our fingers in silence; every once in a while pressing palms together; two kids in the sandbox, comparing to see whose were bigger. If we’d never stopped, I wouldn’t have cared a lick.

Something must’ve hit her though because her face fell. Serious. Troubled. Thoughts descended in real-time, only I couldn’t make out what they were.

Until she breathed out, “Oye.”

It wasn’t like her to retreat but when I looked up, she said nothing else. Just chewed ferociously on the inside of her cheek. I waited, eyes drifting back down to watch our fingers and knuckles, still rhythmically locking and unlocking.

Breaking the silence, she gave it another shot. “Miguel’s party is on Saturday.”

“Yeah.”

There it was again, another retreat. What the fuck was she gonna say that she was so nervous to say it?

“And?”

It came out soft like a secret. “Go with me?”

Huh. Whatever I thought she might say, it sure as shit wasn’t that. Not … asking me to the dance? Disbelief chipped away at my usual poker face and without thinking, I blurted, “What? Why?”

Zero-to-sixty in four seconds flat and now she was fuming.

“Why? What do you mean ‘why?’”

Senseless. I knew it then. Should’ve walked it back. Found a better way to ask. But still, it was the only thing that came out of my mouth and all too matter-of-fact.

“I mean like ... why.”

Her jaw cocked to one side. She looked like she wanted to slug me. Because despite the fact that I wasn’t family, had never even met Miguel, had no business being there, somehow it was the dumbest question in the world.

“There’s—” I fumbled for words, raking my hand up and down the back of my head. “I just— why would I be there? You don’t need security. He’s the main man. No doubt he’ll have his own.”

“Because.”

“Because,” I shot back flatly.

“Because.”

“Think your brother, my boss, is gonna need more than ‘because.’ Even from you.”

“You’d be surprised.” She cracked a smile.

That’s right. Stubborn. Impossible. And she knew it. Like a reflex or muscle memory, my face settled into that thousand yard stare, the one she and so many others felt the need to decode.

She conceded, “Because. Okay?” throwing her hands up and letting them fall. They smacked her hips on the way back down and the rest came out in practically one breath. “Because even though he’s a genius and he’s technically family, Miguel Ángel Félix Gallardo is the most insufferable man in all of Mexico. I can’t stand him and I can’t stand almost everyone else on that fucking guest list. Así qué quiero que estés allí porque ya todos los odio. Pero a ti te quiero. <So, maybe I want you there because I hate all of them. But I love you.>"

Wait, come again? She didn’t just— no, but she did.

Pero a ti te quiero.

“Oh.”

I turned around, fell against the door, pressing into it with my forehead, and didn’t say anything for a long time. Mind searching for an explanation: the timing, why now? What day was it? What date was it? What was different about now?

I’d woken up in the same bed in that cramped apartment just down the street from Parque Teniente, the first one I could find when I got to Tijuana months ago. Woken up the same damn person. As far as I knew, so had she. There was nothing especially extraordinary about today. If anything it was routine, sneaking into Mín’s office when we knew no one would be there, away from prying eyes: Alicia, Ruth, their mother, the gaggle of Arellano women who always seemed to be at the house. Away from Pancho, who’d made a habit of passing out, snoring until three in the afternoon, on the pull-out couch at my place.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more it sank in how unremarkable the day was. Maybe something happened. Some earth-shattering event she hadn’t told me about yet, something that would explain the sentence that just left her lips and turned reality into something like the dimensions of a funhouse mirror.

Shit, how long had I been standing there with my head against the door? How long had she been waiting? No idea. Did it matter? Of course it did. This wasn’t something silence could solve. Or even put off. Not that there was anything to solve.

I turned back around to face her, half-wincing, anticipating her fury. A satisfied smirk had settled in the corners of her mouth. She wasn’t mad. Just leaned against the desk, puffing away, which was ... odd. I scanned her face for any indication, clenched jaw, flared nostrils, blazing brown eyes, some sign of impending apocalypse. But no, she looked serene. Smug even, tickled at how surprised I was. No, she wasn’t mad at all.

Oh.

And it hit me. I could see it so clearly now in the way she stood with her hip out and how she held her cigarette off to the side, wrist lax, nothing to worry about. Why she wasn’t mad. She knew there was nothing to worry about. This wasn’t a confession. No grade-school picking petals off flowers, ‘he loves me, he loves me not.’ She hadn’t said it in the hopes that in return, she’d hear the same. Because it was plain as day. Fucking obvious. Not a doubt in her mind.

It was funny too ‘cause that had been sealed away in a vault in some deep, dark corner of my mind, cordoned off by an electric fence, wrapped in several yards of barbed wire and caution tape. WARNING. POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS. I barely knew because I barely allowed myself to. That came easy as it always did. Or easier anyway than feeling and not knowing what to do, where to put it. So I barely knew. Maybe it was now that I only just realized it, in a fully-formed thought.

A ti te quiero también.

But it felt wrong, seemed to make the moment small somehow, if I were to say it out loud back to her. Forced for obligation, ceremony’s sake, and altogether pointless when she already knew.

So I just said, “Fine.”

Her eyes lit up, filled to the brim with, you really mean it?

“Yeah, fine, I’ll go.”

She beamed. My own personal sun.

“But you figure whatever fake reason to tell your brothers. I ain’t sayin’ shit.”

She squeezed my hand. Any tighter and it would’ve cut the circulation. Not quite the deliverance that launching at each other would’ve been, sweeping all the papers and supplies off of Mín’s desk, not giving a shit what broke as it hit the floor, buttons popping loose from my shirt and rolling on the ground as she tore it off, taking each other carnally hostage right there. But with Nestor still downstairs, it’d have to be enough.

✺

So here I am. And she’s missing in action.

A hand comes down on my shoulder. Ramón’s. “Mira nada más <Look what we have here>,” he chuckles pointing to Ms. Fuck-You-Money. “Esa chulita been eyeing you all night.”

I roll my eyes.

Món chokes out, laughing through a sip of champagne, “Ay qué duro, cabron. <Ey, tough fucker.> Good answer. Attention from a woman like that? That’ll get you killed, or worse.”

Lost, I shoot him a look of confusion.

“What’s the look for.”

“What’re you talking about?” I say shaking my head.

“Wait d— you don’t know who that is?”

I stare at him through half-lidded eyes.

He can barely contain his amusement and I could bust that Cheshire-cat smile wide open for it, the chistoso. See, ‘cause it’s something I’ll never understand but Ramón lives for shit like this. How many times I wished I felt the same or could at least access some similar well of couldn’t-give-a-fuck charisma that allowed the kid to cut loose, no matter where he went. Unless he was in one of his moods. Still, his glee is infectious if not foreign. So despite being miffed, I’m grateful he’s here.

“That’s— okay, that’s Miguel’s wife, Daniela.”

“Thought her name was like Marta? María? Something else?”

“Oh nooo, no, no, no.” Ramón jiggles his head back and forth. “That’s his first wife. This is his second.”

My eyebrows shoot up.

“Yeah, right?” Món shrugs. “Tío moves fast apparently. Upgraded to a new model already. Personally, I don’t get it. Should’ve stuck with the classic. And María,” he looks at me and whistles, “qué clásico.”

We both watch Miguel work a group of sleazy-looking politicians. I don’t need to be up close to imagine how badly they reek of too-expensive, tacky cologne, or how clammy their hands are, sweating because they’ve been mainlining too much sauce and blow. My eyes drift to Daniela who’s pointing around theatrically to the outdoor decor. Like her husband, she’s smooth-talking another group of guests.

That’s when it clicks. As she dances from a group of Senators, to a group of financial hacks, to a group of mid-level distributors, I can’t help but think how busy bees flit. Flower to flower, pollinating each one. Stroking the right egos, smiling, leaving a hand on a shoulder just long enough to make them think they might have a shot with the big man’s wife. From everything I’ve heard about Miguel, he might let them, for the right price. That fact fills me with equal measures of sadness and relief. Sad for her. Relief to know it’s a hustle, an award-winning performance. Though why she’s been wasting time on me, a friend of the Arellano family at best, low-level Arellano goon at worst, is anyone’s guess.

“Seems she’s like that with everyone.”

“Oh no, carnal. With you? That shit’s real. She knows you’re with us.” Ramón reaches for my face like he’s about to pinch my cheek. “Not some rich politician’s secret love child.”

“Ey, no mames, cabrón.” I swat it away with a smirk, so he knows we’re simpatico. “You and Pancho always fixin’ to get me in more trouble than I’m ever looking for.”

I think of Dina just then and how it’s possible for lies to lag like that sometimes. Feeling like truth ‘til the words are well outta your mouth.

As if anxiety’s summoned her to me, out of the corner of my eye, I catch Dina walking toward us. On her way over, she grabs a drink from a guy standing by the bar holding two champagne glasses, someone she mistakes for a waiter. Based on the beet red look on his face, he turns to be a guest. He flips out and at first, Dina looks ready to apologize and move on. No big deal.

It’s not until he starts pointing his finger in her face, “Qué verga, vieja? No soy un pinshe mesero <What the fuck, lady? I'm not a fuckin' waiter>,” that I glance at the ground to hide a smile. I know what’s coming but this poor bastard doesn’t. It’s always satisfying to watch Dina work, handling men who make mistakes like that. No doubt it’d be a scathing indictment but never done in the same way. Refreshing, that kind of variety. I always respected it.

She leans back, eyeing the guy up and down, then walks over, purposely slow, all the time in the world, to a real waiter holding a tray. Grabbing a new glass, she walks back and shoves it into the guy’s hand, taking extra care to make sure it spills on his jacket. Beads of sweat and outrage pour from him, as he looks down at his damp lapel in disgust.

She waves her index finger back and forth between them, “Listo, pues. Ya estamos? <Well, then. We good?>” and points at Ramón next to me. “Or shall I have my brother, Ramón—“ she waves, “Hi Món! Yeah, that one. The tall one over there. Shall I ask him to step in, help mediate the matter?”

Everyone’s eyes shoot straight to Món who, on cue, flashes a smile so diabolical, the devil himself would’ve tipped his hat in appreciation. Still fuming, the guy brushes the front of his jacket and straightens his collar but says nothing.

“Aye,” Dina punctuates with a dip of her head. “Eso es lo que pensaba. <Yeah, that's what I thought.>"

And that seems like the end of it until she a twenty out of her wallet in that impossibly tiny purse. “Ey, next party you go to, if you want to avoid being confused with the catering staff, maybe don’t wear a dinner jacket. It’s a nice house, sure. Not the fucking Met.”

The guy is mute, shocked as she slips the bill in his breast pocket and glides away. Even a few feet away, I can already see her rolling her eyes and giggling as she makes her way to us.

Ramón says, cackling, “I thought maybe you were going to ask for a bottle there, crack him over the head with it,” as she gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“No, no. We couldn’t embarrass our tío querido could we. Besides,” she gives a cavalier wave toward the guy, “Drastic measures like those are reserved for Chapo. Or Cochi.”

I look at the two of them standing with Güero on the other side of the DJ platform. They look like they’re enjoying themselves about as much as I am.

I make eye contact with Güero briefly before I feel another hand on my shoulder. Dina’s?

“What no hug for me?”

I catch her awkwardly with one arm, stiffening as she pulls me in too close and for too long.

“Woo,” Món hoots. ”Creo que Enedina ha tomado un poquito demasiado. <I think Enedina's had one too many.>"

She bats him in the arm. “Ay que no, if you’d had the conversation I just had with Mín, you’d be chugging this,” she knocks back the last few sips of champagne, then holds up the glass, “like water too.”

“Why? What happened?”

”Oh nothing, he just–“ she lets out a hefty sigh. “Just rolled over for Miguel like he always does.”

Before Món can ask anything else, Dina’s face lights up at someone behind him.

All drunk swagger, Pancho waltzes over, a drink in each hand, yelling, “Estos cabrooooones. I been looking all over for you.”

He sidles next to Ramón, who reaches for the other drink in his hand. He pulls back. “Qué shingadas? <What the fuck?> I didn’t bring this for you.”

Món pulls a face like Pancho just kicked over a sandcastle he spent hours building.

I hold my hands up in defeat, chuckling, “Ey I didn’t ask him to bring me anything. Knowing this pruno-king, I bet they’re both his.”

“Y esto? Esto es porque es mi compa. Él me conoce <And this? This is why he's my homie. He gets me>,” Pancho slurs, with a tipsy smile, eyes half shut.

“Qué pedo <What the hell>, is everyone drunk here besides me?” Món catches me smiling and rolls his eyes. “Tú no, rarito &lt;Not you, weirdo>. You don’t count.”

Glancing at the crowd around us, Pancho asks “Where’s Mín?” and stumbles back, nearly planting his ass on the lawn.

He grabs Món for support, who already looks startled as Dina shoves her empty glass at him. “Who cares? Yo quiero bailar,” she declares, grabbing my hand.

She yanks me with such force, I wonder if I look like one of those Loony Toons characters, a regular Beaky Buzzard swept offscreen by Bugs Bunny with a giant cane.

Behind us Pancho and Ramón are busting up laughing. “Panchito, I think she might be drunker than you are.”

Pancho holds up one of his drinks in salute. “Aaaaaayyy órale, mi brujita!”

My hand firmly in hers, Dina shimmies around the other couples on the dancefloor. When she finds a spot she deems satisfactory, she turns and snaps me towards her, gliding her hand up my right arm to my shoulder, and moving my left around her waist. I’m lost in static. My heart’s beating fast. Too fast, like a hummingbird caught all up in my chest and each beat of its wings jolts my rib cage, while it tries to jailbreak outta there.

And it’s not the proximity that’s got my blood up, really. It’s her. It’s rare to see Dina overflowing with this kind of reckless joy. So rare in fact, there’s a gravity to it, a pull magnified by irregularity, that makes it harder to resist. In tandem with the music, I’m goner, already falling into it. But what does any of it matter, when I know how she feels now. Just the same as me.

✺

We finish with a dip, and the blurry wall of lights and onlookers, among them the suspicious face of Mín, the curious face of Ramón, and the drunk glassy eyes of Pancho, become crystal clear again, as I bring Dina back up. The song changes and I let go, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. Making my way off the dancefloor, she follows close, reassuring in a low voice, “It’ll be fine, amor. They know I’m tipsy.”

“Yeah. And they know I’m not.”

Although— I look over at the bar. Fuck it, I could fix that now. Before we can reach Mín, Món, and Pancho, standing by the DJ booth, I tear through the crowd, right to the bar. Fuck any rules. This is Def Con One and that lapse in judgment could only be reasonably explained to the Arellano boys by both of us being shitfaced. I flag down a bartender.

“Shot of tequila.”

“What kind?”

I eye him coolly. “Whatever. Dealer’s choice.”

Willing myself not to be too twitchy, conspicuous, I glance around to make sure Benjamín hasn’t sicced Món on me. That look of disapproval on his face is going to be seared to the backs of my eyelids for days. Maybe weeks. Not a chance in hell that he’d overlook that display. As far as Ramón, who looked more intrigued than anything, jury’s still out. Might be he’d follow Mín’s lead. That is, unless Dina were to intervene, which– that’d be something she’d have to do. I’d never ask her. Not an option. That leaves Pancho who’s unlikely to give a shit. Or if he did, he’s too drunk now to make a show of it. But no, even sober, we’ve been homies through and through. He’d have my back. Maybe the only one.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Christ, all of it, already a fucking mess. It hasn’t spilled out entirely from my head onto the world, but only a matter of time.

A whistle from someone a barstool away interrupts the game of 3D chess I’m playing with myself, trying to compute then varying combinations of factors and events that could end me. I’m so in it, it takes me a beat to even realize they’re whistling at me.

“Ey, dónde aprendiste a bailar como eso? <Hey, where did you learn how to dance like that?>” someone asks quietly, in familiar but strangely-accented Spanish.

I turn to shoot a fuck-off stare to whoever, but when I’m met with the sight of an odd-looking, half-bald, ginger dude in jeans, a denim jacket, and a pair of Jordans that probably cost more than my first car, I’m taken aback by the expression on his face. Strange-like, fondly admiring, but more like he’s observing a zoo animal, exotic as those peacocks waddling across the lawn, than a person.

“Viene de familia.” <Runs in the family.>

All the odd guy says is, “Ah,” and then proceeds to fiddle with the toothpick in his mouth and survey the crowd.

Based on how he’s dressed, it’s clear this dude isn’t a regular guest. If I had to put my money on anything? Sicario. No question. Because even though he doesn’t have the trademark hyper-vigilance, coiled up tight, a piston ready to pop, the strange little homie does have a cracked look I recognize. Like he doesn’t need to be on-guard because he’s past the point of feeling much beyond general amusement.

I’d come up with a couple guys like this back home. Met even more of them in prison. You could tell who they were because they didn’t pretend to be concrete copies of themselves. Already born steel people, they never needed to bother with the mandatory, self-imposed identity mutilation necessary to survive in the Petri dish of the California Department of Corrections. But the most interesting thing about them? Scary as they could be, they’re also some of the more honest criminals I’ve dealt with. At least, those who’re murder-for-hire, not murder-for-fun.

Spotting the shiny, engraved handle of a pistol in his waistband, I whistle, “Nice, .357?”

He doesn’t take it out to show it off, just flashes a slinky, joker smile. “You got a good eye.”

“Likewise. Dope piece.”

Yeah, definitely more than your average muscle. The real pros don’t tend much to show and tell. But who the guy works for, I can’t figure exactly. Given that I had to give up my own weapon before we came through, I’m guessing he’s Miguel’s muscle. Looking over at a doorway filled with the broad shoulders and Fabio-like hair of Miguel’s top security guy, Tony, I try picturing these two working together and have to stifle a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Eh, it’s too hard— it’s nothin’.”

The strange homie responds with an amused snort but doesn’t press further. We go back to our mutual but silent surveillance. I can’t see the Arellanos anywhere, but I do spot the Sinaloa crew making their way to the exit by the bar. The weird little guy waves at them like they’re the oldest of friends. I nearly give myself whiplash, looking back and forth from Strange Homie to Güero and Cochi’s pained smiles and an outright look of disgust from Chapo.

“Those are the guys who brought the tiger last year,” Strange Homie helpfully explains, still waving.

“Man, everyone keeps telling me about that tiger. Guess I missed out.”

“You weren’t here last year?”

Still looking around for Ramón, I shake my head, stating absentmindedly, “Haven’t been to any kinda shit like this in my life.”

If Benjamín hadn’t already put him up to cutting me into little pieces, I would’ve at least expected Món to be hot on the heels of the Sinaloa crew, if only to berate, and harass, and swear at them as they’re leaving. And yet, he’s nowhere. Shoot, maybe Mín decided not to even bother chasing me down, and they just bounced. Left me there. Dina would be pissed but all things considered, I’d be getting off lightly. Compared to other possibilities. Could I be so lucky?

I turn my attention back to Strange Homie.

A jackal-like grin brightens his whole face. “Yeah, you did miss out. I got to feed it.”

“Big animal fan, huh?”

Strange Homie considers the question seriously as though it requires an answer, deep or existential in some way. But what he comes back with is relatively simple. “I guess, apex predators, yeah.”

“Easiest to relate to?” I joke.

The jackal smile back again as he exclaims, “Exacto!” Only this time, it bears sincerity that makes it more endearing than unsettling.

I raise my shot glass, saluting, “Makes sense to me.” An implied given what I know about you, unsaid in the air as I knock the shot back. Strange Homie likely knows, has probably been profiling my own profiling this whole time.

“So, you are not from around here?” Strange Homie ventures, as I catch the bartender’s attention to order another shot.

“From Guadalajara?”

Strange Homie shrugs and nods.

“Nah. You?”

He says with a knowing smirk, “Do I sound like I’m from Guadalajara?”

I shake my head, chuckling to myself. The bartender brings another shot and I put it away, perfunctory, then bite into the lime. It’s so sour, I feel shooting pangs in the sides of my mouth and tongue. The sensation of pain, concrete and tangible enough to focus on, brings me back to me.

I wipe my mouth and clear my throat. “You don’t sound like you’re from Guadalajara, but I got a few camaradas back home who sound kinda like you. Colombianos.”

“Good eye. Good ear,” Strange Homie notes, a hint of approval in his voice.

“The melting pot of America.”

“Ah, entonces eres un gringo?” <Oh, you're a gringo then?>

“Te has visto, hombre? De donde vengo, eres más gringo que yo.” <Have you seen yourself, man? Where I'm from, you're more gringo than me.>

I half-expect Strange Homie to be offended but he just snickers and nods in agreement. “Pues, tal vez tengas razón. Supongo que quiero decir que eres un gabacho.” <Well, maybe you're right. I guess I mean to say, you're a foreigner.">

“Close enough.”

“Well gabacho, un placer. Yo soy Navegante.” He reaches out to shake hands.

I extend mine tentatively, “David Barrón.”

As we stand there, forearms bobbing up and down slowly, a look of calculation and sorrow fills Strange Homie’s eyes. Something about it, and the way he says, “You seem like a cool guy. I wish we hadn’t talked so much.” I can’t quite put my finger on why it makes my stomach drop.

Fuck. Dina. Where are they. The Arellanos. Makes no sense. Been nowhere this whole time. Fuck. The empty spot where my gun usually sat in my waistband screams at me like a phantom limb. I try freeing my hand from Navegante’s, who holds on like a vice and laments, “I am glad you got those shots of tequila in though. Since we both know how bad this will hurt.”

My teeth grind into my lower lip so hard, I taste blood. And yet, it still does fucking nothing to ease the sting of surprise as the knife sinks into my stomach.

✺

Everything after that happens in slow motion. He must’ve carried me out at some point and anyone who saw me doing shots at the bar just assumed I was wasted. I don’t know how much blood I’ve lost. Enough that it feels like I’m moving through molasses when they chuck me in the backseat of that town car. Or is it a limo? The seats are facing each other like in a limo. Or maybe I’m molasses because of the booze. If not the booze exclusively, it definitely isn’t helping, blood thinning as it is. Fucking stupid. So stupid. In my life, had I ever been so stupid?

Although, I have to give it to Strange Homie— what was his name again? Navegante? — it’s been ages since someone got the jump on me like that. Since I was a kid probably. He’d been decent enough about it too, although I could’ve done without the stick in the gut. A few inches higher, he might’ve fractured a rib, but I might have more my full faculties. But no, this guy knew what he was doing. It’d landed exactly where he’d wanted it to.

Fingers wrestle with the tie at my neck, ripping it off, and it’s not until I bring it down to put pressure on the wound in my stomach that I realize those fingers are mine. The other courtesy Navegante had done? Strange Homie left the knife in. Although, whether that’s so I wouldn’t bleed out as fast or if it’s so he could further torture me by twisting it, is unclear. So much of it is unclear. I try going back, retracing every step leading up to the point I’d been stabbed but my brain’s stuck in quicksand. If I live to see tomorrow, I’ll have to take some kind of blood oath to never touch another drop of alcohol again. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Dina. Where is she. The Arellanos. They’d disappeared. Where the fuck was Dina. The panic, the cortisol, like a defibrillator at my chest, shocking me more awake, as I pack the fabric of my tie around the knife to soak up the blood. Forgetting myself, I reach behind for my gun and grumble at the empty spot where it normally is. Should be. Stupid. So. fucking. stupid.

I hear voices outside the car. No gun, no way out, no idea where anyone else is, where I am now, no choice but to accept it. So I just lean back against the seat, keeping pressure on my stomach and wait patiently for what’s to come.

When the door finally opens, I expect to be met with Strange Homie, Navegante’s jackal grin but instead it’s a taller man, a lot more normal looking, with dark eyes and a full head of hair. No one I recognize though and he’s someone I’d remember, considering he’s one of the most sharply dressed motherfuckers I’ve seen outside a movie. He slides in to sit across from me and grabs a file that had been laying on the seat next to him.

He reads from it calmly, soothingly business-as-usual. “I do apologize for the harsh introduction, Señor Barrón Corona. Navegante said you were nothing but gentlemanly prior to his stabbing you.”

I shift uncomfortably in my seat and on reflex, the muscles in my stomach clench around the blade. Like I’ve stepped onto the worst elevator ride, my throat feels like it’s in my head. Just blistering, white-hot agony. A jagged inhale drags down the back of my throat and I try not to pass out. “S’funny,” I cough out, “was just thinking the same thing.”

“Please know, this isn’t personal. Or rather, not for me. I suspect it’s very personal for your employer.” He looked up from the file, smirking. “Or I suppose, that’s the idea.”

My employer? The fuck was Benjamín going to be upset about? Me with a knife in my gut in the backseat of whatever big-shot, cartel guy’s car?

“Banking on the wrong strategy there,” I hiss through gritted teeth.

The man looks up from the file again, waiting for me to explain further.

“No love lost between my employer and me.”

“Hmm. Is that so?”

He says this with such assurance, it becomes apparent that this whole scheme, whatever it is, whatever game this guy’s playing, this shit is well above my pay grade. No point trying to outmaneuver when my head’s still in quicksand and I don’t even have the fucking rulebook.

“But you answer to the whole family, no?”

I roll my eyes and slump my shoulders, too tired to summon a real response.

“David Barrón Corona. From Logan Heights, San Diego, California. Says here you were born in Tijuana, but your parents are naturalized citizens. Which would give you—” he licks his forefinger and flips a page. “Ah yes, dual Mexican-American citizenship. Oh, your father was in the navy? Why does it seem the best sicarios come from military families. Someone should do a study.”

“Eh, eres un soldado either way.” <Eh, you're a soldier either way.>

The man smirks and continues reading. “Two brothers, one older Mateo Barrón Corona, deceased. And one younger, Alexander Barrón Corona, incarcerated, life no parole. And your mother— hmm, we don’t have much on her.”

I clench my teeth so hard, it feels like I have a charlie horse in my jaw. Willing my stomach muscles to relax, I ease off the middle console with my elbow to lean against the window and breathe out a, “Wow.”

The man takes out a cigarette and pops it between his lips, mumbling, “Qué?” as he lights up.

“Just— I dunno. Seems a lotta paperwork for somebody who’s nobody. Whose asset are you, DoD, CIA?”

The man shakes out his match and cracks a window on his side to toss it out. “Ah, see, but that’s the thing, David— may I call you David?”

I nod listlessly.

“David, do I seem to you like someone who’d waste so much time, go to all this trouble if you were a complete nobody?”

“Can’t say. We just met.” We’re well past politeness. I’m already bleeding all over this guy’s Oxford leather seats.

But instead of insulting him, he cuts up, laughing deep and full. “Funny, discerning—tonight’s little encounter notwithstanding. And from what I hear, an excellent shot, a competent sicario.”

I snort loud enough that he pauses to say, “What is that? False modesty? Don’t bore me before we’ve gotten started.”

“No. I am as good as you’ve heard probably. But that’s not the point.”

Dragging slowly from his cigarette, he brushes a bit of ash that’s fallen on his pant leg, then looks up, fixes his eyes on me, and says, “Enlighten me, then.” He’s the cat. I’m the ball of yarn. It doesn’t even matter.

“Any sicario worth a shit knows it doesn’t matter how good you get.“

“Why’s that?”

A gotcha-type smile spreads across my face for the first time in what feels like ages. “’Cause however good I may be, I’ll always be expendable. Guys like me are always short to the gate.”

And just when I think I’ve got him, for some reason, that warms up those cold brown eyes of his, as though I’ve proven his point more than my own. He bobs his head toward the window where Navegante stood guarding the car. “Well, that may be true of most in your line of work. But I asked my man out there, and he seems to think you’re good people. I’m putting together the picture of you, beginning to understand the appeal, what she sees in you.”

“Why. You hiring?”

“Oh no, no,” he chuckles lightly, “you’re of no use to me that way. No, the fact of the matter is,” then clicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek, “you’re right. Some are more expendable than others. But at the finish line, when death comes to collect, really, we’re all expendable.”

If this guy doesn’t reach some point, some punchline soon, I swear I’m gonna yank this knife out myself, happily bleed out all over the place just to reach some definitive conclusion.

”But here and now? To one with a little power and something I need? You David, are much less expendable than you think.”

The hell is he even talki— oh, fuck.

What she sees in you.

It echoes in my ears until it detonates, like pulling the pin on a grenade in my head, shrapnel ricocheting on the inner walls of my skull, just as I’m trying to piece it together.

My boss. Personal. Dina. You answer to the whole family, no? The guy’s practically been explaining it from the beginning. I’ve just been too dead in the head to make sense of it.

“Ah yes, there it is. And now that you’re caught up with the rest of the class, allow me to formally introduce myself.” The man places his hand on his chest, bowing his head. “I’m Pacho Herrera.”

Yup. This is above my pay grade. Way, way, way the fuck above my pay grade.

#narcos mexico #narcos mexico fanfic #enedina arellano felix x david barron #dinarron #enedina arellano felix #david barron #timeline divergence #also this is separate from my dinarron russian novel #but this place has everything #angst so mild a white man could handle it #smooching #stabbing #with KNIVES #forbidden love/secret relationship #seeeeeeeeeecrets #Dina - a woman who will actually pay to step on you #Barron - a man being accidentally hot at every turn for no good reason #Pacho - a sly and suave and snappily dressed mf with a plan #the most bizarre buddy-cop duo we didn't know we needed #like shit you not it makes no actual sense but somehow works?? #there's also dancing #during which you should bust out Spotify or Youtube or wherever tf #and put on a little ditty called 'Guajira del Mar' #to set the mood #to get the feel #to establish the Vibe #also to that one anon who likes dinarron stuff - here's a new thingy to feast on #until i get my shit together with the asslong novel i've been working on for them sksksjflkdajlsdkj

[the-broken-truth]

I don’t know if you done already, but what about male Björn taking the place of Thor when Odin kills him? And what the rest of the families reaction to it?

Little angsty, though you could do the whole “it’s not a fatal wound” trope. Thanks for hearing me out!

Broken Truth (reads the ask): Björn taking Thor's Place of being killed by Odin? Definitely Angsty but interesting. Now let the words weave together.

"Why isn't he dead? Are you talking?" Odin asked as he appeared from a cyclone of unkindness and walked up to Thor, "You told you to do that? You don't talk. You don't think. I think, you kill. It's a simple fucking concept!"

"Sif and Björn were right about you. I just didn't wanna see it." Thor said as he looked into the distance with thought full in his eyes.

"What is this? Are you broken?" Odin asked before pointing at Kratos, who just stood there, "I am your father Take the hammer and kill who I tell you to kill!" Thor looked at Kratos before looking back at his father and spoke one simple word.

"No." Thor said.

That's when time slowed down around Kratos - she saw Odin pick up his staff and lunge it at Thor but a blue blur came out of nowhere and tackled Thor in his side, sending the Thunderer of Asgard tumbling to the ground and a yell was heard but it wasn't from Thor. Kratos looked and his eyes widened at the body that was pierced by Odin's staff.

Long dark brown hair tied in a ponytail.

Golden eyes widened at the feeling of being pierced by the All-Father's Staff.

"Björn..." Kratos whispered as he watched his blood son but Thor's adopted son stabbed with Odin's Staff, holding it with his hand and a bloody smirk on his face. Björn looked over to Thor, who was wide-eyed at what he was seeing - his father tried to kill him and his son took the blow for him. Björn's body began fading away in a blue light but the Great Bear opened his mouth and spoke to Thor.

"Thank you...Father." Those were Björn's last words as he fades away into another and his amulet fell on the ground before Odin's feet. The blue specks of Björn's body faded into nothing as the All-Father looked upon the boy's amulet on the ground before him and stepped on it.

"Stupid Bear Cub." Odin spat before facing Thor, only to find Thor wasn't alone - Kratos helped the Thunderer of Asgard to his feet and Freya along with Atreus appeared, soon followed by Thrud and Sif with Revna.

"Björn! NOOOO!" Sif cried as she looked at Odin's foot on her son's amulet.

"You monster! He was innocent!" Freya yelled as she pulled out her sword.

"That wasn't for him, I wasn't aiming for Björn, I was aiming for Thor!" Odin tried to plead his case but Thor just glared at him with lighting in his eyes and summoned Mjolnir to his hand and charged at Odin with his small army behind him - Odin took away their Bear Cub and they were going to kill the All-Fucker once and for all.

Odin tried to use his staff to block Thor's attacks but the Thunder Hamer broke through the staff, rendering it useless before Mjolnir smacked Odin in his head, knocking him to the ground. Kratos used his blades to pin Odin to the ground by stabbing them in the stomach and everyone began beating the All-Father to death.

#god of war ragnarok #the might bear au #male reader/björn #thor #kratos #odin

[philtatosbuck]

do you think kennett should have been canon instead of kolvina/bonenzo?

You people want me in trouble Bad.

Okay, short answer?

No. I don't necessarily think they should have been canon.

Long answer:

I don't particularly care about kolvina, kennett or bonenzo in any special capacity. Kolvina is there, but not especially preferred. Kennett was never my preferred Bonnie/Mikaelson ship (Klonnie was my poison of choice). I barely liked Kol in TVD to the extent a lot of people did. And I think bonenzo kind of came up out of nowhere.

Do I think it would have made narrative sense if Kol and Bonnie had some kind of thing going on? Absolutely. Do I think it would've lasted? Not in particular. Especially if the expression and Silas thing still came up.

Do I think putting Kolvina and Bonenzo together was kind of a fuck you after the comments JPlec made about Kennett? Yeah. Without a doubt.

My feelings on Kennett go as far as I'll read something if it's well written, but since they usually feature as a background ship to a certain ship I can't stand, I don't indulge in content that often. Usually Kol is reduced to Bonnie's lapdog while Bonnie is reduced to a certain blonde's lapdog in most fics, and therefore I can confidently say I don't read it that often.

The arguments about "Kol hurt Bonnie! Kol's a psychopath! Kol wouldn't treat her right!" kind of fall on deaf ears because I literally cannot think of a single significant man in TVD who did not hurt Bonnie at some point on purpose or use her for their own gain or as a magical weapon, so if you go that route, you don't ship Bonnie with anyone. Pick your battles.

(And, don't get me wrong. Certain people use this to actually not ship Bonnie with anyone and make sure she's single and reduced to the undesirable best friend of Elena and Caroline, but that's another battle I'm not picking right now).

They decided to give Kol more character than being a psychopath on The Originals when he was no longer a vampire, which is decidedly a choice, but not one I inherently disagree with. He was never a main character on TVD and I wouldn't expect them to give him screentime fleshing him out, because I think they decided they were going to use him as a prop and make his death more important (barely) than his limited screen time early on.

Also, frankly. I'm not convinced it wouldn't be used as more torture porn for Bonnie at some point.

So, uh. If you've got this far? Let's recap. No, I don't think it should have been explicitly canon. Yes, I think there was potential. No, I don't especially prefer it over kolvina or bonenzo in particular. Yes, I think both those ships were a smack in the face in light of comments made by Julie about kennett.

#this is a long ass way of saying i'm damn near neutral #i don't think this is. anti anything? but argue w ya mama not w me #i'm not putting this in any ship tags bc idk how to tag it #bonnie bennett #kol mikaelson #davina claire #lorenzo st. john #one thing's for sure i think bonnie and jeremy should have never been revisited after jeremy cheated but. okay #anonymous #q.