#not to alarm anyone but a crazy person pulled a knife on us as we were leaving the last bar last night

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Final (Part 10.5)

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Angst / (Eventual) Smut 18+

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / unresolved sexual tension / penetrative sex / handjob / a mercy nut / oral sex / unprotected sex

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10 , FINAL Part 10.5

“Hi Bug,” he said.

“Did you eat?” He was speaking before his eyes made it back up into your face and it took you five whole seconds before your brain processed his question enough for you to manage a meager back and forth head shake as a response.

“We should eat.” Baekhyun stood up and walked the long way around the coffee table toward the kitchen, avoiding the space you occupied as he moved.

Eating was a good idea. It was getting late. Eating would give you something to do that wasn’t daydream about the way his thighs filled out his jeans and how strong his lap must feel to sit on top of.

You followed behind him into the kitchen. The wide galley layout afforded you with plenty of space to pass behind him without actually having to touch him but the urge was just too strong to resist. The cat was already out of the bag.

He was pulling out a frying pan, a cutting board and a knife as you passed behind him to move toward the fridge and you reached for him with your fingertips as you moved, trailing lightly over the wide expanse of his back from one broad shoulder to the other.

You looked back at him when your hand ran out of his back to touch and you caught the focus of his brown eyes that glanced up at yours and the smile on his face that he didn't try to hide. Cute. Oh god. Cute.

“What are we having, Peanut?”

You were standing in front of the open fridge and you wondered how unfair it would be to bend over to reach into the bottom vegetable drawer with him watching you like you knew he was. You pulled the drawer open and grabbed a few things trying not to think too much as you did it. If he looked, he looked. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you at home wearing not nearly enough clothing.

When you looked back at him, Baekhyun’s eyes were, impossibly, focused up high, on the contents of the fridge. He hadn’t been staring at your ass as you bent over, imaging taking you here in this kitchen in front of the open refrigerator. Of course he wouldn't. Baekhyun would never waste that much electricity. The fridge was fancy and had an alarm that rang when the door was left open for too long and the one time — the one(!!) time you’d let the door stay open long enough for the alarm to ring was because you’d dropped a sauce bottle on the floor and had been cleaning up the mess. The alarm started to ring and the man rushed into the kitchen just to shoot you a look so dirty you felt as if you were the mess that needed cleaning up; as if you had personally been the one holding the baseball bat and had been caught clubbing the baby seals. He was insane. He was crazy. God, you loved him.

He lifted a finger to point to something on the top shelf and you reached for the container you saw there. You felt the cool air of the fridge along the bare skin of your stomach when you reached up high and you remembered why you rarely wore this shirt. It was just too flowy and too prone to malfunctions such as this. Your eyes searched for his again and the man had turned around to mess with his stupid cutting board. He wasn't human.

Your mood and your desperation were mounting. You weren’t going to make it. You were going to do something stupid like take your clothes off in this kitchen. How much self control did he have? Why was he so annoyingly good at it? You could feel a buzzing in the base of your skull as you looked at him and you wondered if anyone had ever died from sexual frustration before.

You did not take off your clothes. Instead, you gave in to his agenda. As if anyone in their right mind could eat right now. You loaded your arms with various ingredients, figuring he was making some sort of stir fry and quietly dropped everything off beside his cutting board.

He was working quietly and not paying any attention to you at all. Were you the crazy one here? When did you turn into such a desperate woman? You were beginning to feel a little bit pathetic. Your skirt was so short. Your entire shoulder had been out this whole time and he hadn’t touched you once since you’d come out of that bedroom.

You grabbed a glass of cold water to drink. It didn't help but at least it was something to do. Your desperation was beginning to change into a numb sort of acceptance. Maybe this was just your life now. Perpetually turned on with no release. You’d have to buy more panties and change them often. Your usefulness in this kitchen was quickly coming to an end. You were out of things to do since the rice maker was still full of plenty of warm rice to eat and all of the dishes had already been cleaned and put away.

Baekhyun was busy cleaning and slicing vegetables and you’d grown tired of standing around not doing anything productive at all so you backed up against the counter beside where he worked and hopped up to sit and watch him work from this slightly elevated angle. If you didn't have anything to do, you would simply entertain yourself inside your own head as you watched the man you loved work on making you something to eat.

You were only a tiny bit irked that he seemed to be paying such close attention to these boring vegetables and not at all looking at your bare thighs that could be well within his line of sight if he would only look. You watched his brown eyes. They stayed fixed on the countertop below him.

His hair was drying, but was still a bit damp and you reached a hand forward to touch the softness of it and to feel the waves between your fingers. When you pushed the waves back away from his forehead he blinked and again his lips pulled into a smile. Even though he refused to look at you, he was still quite aware of you here. He hadn’t flinched when you touched his hair and the smile was definitely for you. It warmed you all over. He was so pretty. He was looking down and his eyelashes were dark and spread over his cheeks. His cheeks popped up when he smiled. You were pretty sure you were obsessed with the shape of this man’s face and when you could see his forehead he was nearly impossible to resist. You saw him bite down on the inside of his bottom lip. He scraped a pile of veggies off to the side and grabbed a carrot.

“LoveBug,” he said between chops. A smile formed on your lips and you tensed your smile to control it before you spoke out your soft reply to him.

“Yes Peanut?”

His forearm muscles flexed as he chopped and his lips pursed forward into a tiny pout. His face was a bit flushed for just chopping veggies and you noticed the tips of his ears were also pink.

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

His knife stopped moving and he was stuck looking down at the board without any actual focus in his eyes at all as he waited for you to hear his question and answer him. It didn't look like he was breathing either. You hadn’t quite expected this question. Sure, it was kind of a given if the two of you were in love, but still, hearing him work up the courage to ask you this question out loud made your stomach do flips.

Your face was so hot. Your heart was pounding too loud again. Was that why he hadn't been looking at you all this time? Was he working up the courage for this? You swallowed and you had to lick your lips because they’d grown too dry from all the biting you’d been doing. You were biting because otherwise you would be screaming and he was holding a knife. It was a recipe for disaster. You couldn't go to a hospital right now, there was a global pandemic going on. Those resources were precious.

“Yes,” you said with your eyes on his face. He moved. His face lifted and his pink cheeks and pink lips and warm eyes were a gift to your soul. Baekhyun looked at you at last — at last, he looked up into your eyes. You’d been staring at him so openly all this time. You were intimately familiar with the shape of him. The angle of his pretty eyes; the layout of the moles on his face; the curve of his little nose that begged to be kissed; the pointed tips of his upper lip and the soft downturn of his bottom lip. You knew his face. You knew everything about it, but when he was actually looking at you, now that you had his focus and his attention on you, you suddenly found it very hard to breathe.

He was looking into your eyes and he’d gone completely still. The eye contact that he maintained, it seemed to build onto itself and you could not look away. You did not even want to. You felt positively trapped in his eyes and despite the fact that neither of you moved at all apart from the occasional blinking in his eyes and steady in and out of his lungs you still felt the pressure building the longer he stared into your face and the less in control of yourself you felt in his presence.

His muscles tensed all over and when his grip hardened around his knife, you heard a loud sound as the knife pressed through the thick carrot in his hand. The sound it made jolted through your entire body. The sound of the thick fibrous vegetable resisting just enough for the knife to struggle against it and then, just when it seemed like it might not, the blade won with a pop. It made it through, the loud chop as the strong high carbon steel hit the wooden board below it when the weaker gave under the pressure; it echoed out inside of your head and his lips parted and his eyelids sank halfway into a blink as he exhaled a held breath.

Baekhyun looked down at his board and then he came to life, suddenly grabbing the carefully sliced and obsessively separated piles all in different shades and colors and he abruptly piled the whole mess of it into the center of the board; he started rapidly chopping everything all together in smaller pieces. It was frantic. The change in his behavior was jarring. What had gotten into him? Was it the same thing that had gotten into you?

“What are you doing? I thought you were doing stir fry,” you recognized the odd behavior and abrupt change of plans based on what he was doing with his ingredients.

“Fuck it. Fried rice. It’s fast. You'll eat it.”

You let your surprised laugh escape and his brows were furrowed with the effort as he chopped everything all together.

“Why are you just trying to feed me? You haven't eaten anything either.”

“Yeah but you were too upset to eat this morning. You can’t skip meals because it makes you feel bad. You’ll eat this and—”

He was turning around, away from you and away from every bit of temptation you waved in front of him, with all of his haphazardly chopped ‘stir fry demoted to fried rice’ ingredients and you heard the click of the stove as he turned the flame on.

“I’ll eat this and what?” You asked over his shoulder and you let your eyes wander down the curve of his spine down to his narrow waist.

“And calm down?” You mumbled to yourself, “the cold shower didn’t work.”

You hadn’t quite so openly ogled him before and you decided that you had simply been insane before. How could you have possibly lived with this man for two years and not thrown yourself at him before? How in the hell was he still a virgin with a face like that? You tossed your head to one side and tried to remember the last time he left the house. Even before 2020, the year from hell, the man simply didn't like to go out. He didn't like meeting new people and he definitely didn't like situations that involved many of those new people. That didn't mean he didn't try in the past. He’d mentioned being stood up before so that meant he had made an attempt to date, right? God, he was gorgeous. You could see the back of his neck as he worked and when he moved the pan around over the burner to spread the oil his arm muscles flexed.

He was adding things to his pan. Cooking and frying noises and smells were building surprisingly quickly and before you could even move from your perch on the counter he was scooping rice into a bowl that he stuck a spoon in from the drawer and he turned back around and returned to you holding the bowl in his hand. He was back now. You had him back.

“The shower didn’t work for me either,” he said honestly and you dropped your hands to brace on the countertop beside your bare thighs to keep yourself from losing your balance. It felt like a confession. He’d tried the shower to calm down too. He was affected by you and was struggling with his control too. Only from the way he was keeping his hands off of you right now, it was clear who was doing a better job with their self control. You wondered about the kinds of fantasies that played out in his head.

Baekhyun was holding a spoon full of rice up to your face and he inhaled a deep breath of air into his lungs that stuttered on the way in.  The stutter in his breath had you swimming inside your own head.

“How am I supposed to eat right now?” It was a genuine question. The man was driving you insane, you could feel the effects of his looks, his words, his kisses from earlier, and the maddening way he hadn’t touched you once since you’d come out of your bedroom. What did you have to do to get just one more kiss; just one hand on your thigh; just one more; just one more — you were ready to bargain or beg even.

“Three bites,” he said and he was breathing heavily when he did it. “Ahh,” he followed up with opening his mouth wide just like he wanted you to do for him.

You leaned forward then; bypassing the waiting spoon of rice. He was so close. You leaned and you pressed your lips against his lips. It was a tiny kiss and you heard the low grunt that left the back of his throat when you did it. His lips molded into yours and he pursed them, returning the kiss; giving into you so easily. When you pulled back his eyes were closed and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down.

Everything about him was pretty. His teeth were pretty. His tongue was pretty. His nose and his chin and his eyes were pretty. You felt drunk.

“Three bites and you can have anything you want, my love, I promise.”

Oh, he was playing a dangerous game with you. Calling you something like this when all of your skin felt like it was on fire. It was too much. It was all too much. You felt the blush heat your skin from your cheekbones down past your chest plate and you closed your eyes to try and keep some sort of semblance of sanity and you opened your mouth.

You felt the spoon push inside and it met your tongue. You closed your mouth around the food and chewed carefully. You tasted nothing. You ate it just to get the food inside of you so you wouldn't feel lightheaded later or gross for having skipped too many meals. He was right. You needed to eat something. He was taking care of you again and you felt one more drop of love splash against the inside of your heart walls. If he kept this up, it might just overflow and then what would become of you? You could hear the spoon scraping in the bowl he held and you heard the blowing sounds coming from his lips as he cooled the next spoonful to keep the hot temperature from burning your tongue. Another drop; another splash. You were screwed.

You’d swallowed it down and quickly opened your mouth for the next spoon, getting it over with to placate him.

The last spoonful went down easily and you opened your eyes when you felt a glass with cool water pushed into your hand which you drank down as well watching in amusement as Baekhyun also seemed to be chewing and swallowing rice he’d taken from the same bowl with the same spoon. His cheeks were puffed and you offered the rest of the water which he accepted and drained quickly.

“So you tried a shower too?”

He choked on his water when you said it and you adjusted the way you sat on the countertop, slipping forward a little so you could lean back on your hands as he was coughing. Your short skirt rode up a little more and you looked down to see most of your thighs bare. You let your knees open more. It felt like an invitation. He could touch you if he wanted to. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to this. Your wardrobe didn’t usually leave all that much to the imagination when you were relaxing at home.

“Cold one?” You asked. You weren’t usually so brazen. But this was Baekhyun and he was your boyfriend now. You wanted to scream from the pent up excitement sat inside of your belly when you thought about it.

“Freezing,” he said and he’d abandoned the food and water on the counter in front of him. His eyes were squeezed shut and he leaned forward with both of his hands resting on the countertop beside where you sat. You watched the side profile of his face and you waited for him. You did not move or touch him in any way at all. You held your breath and you held your tongue and you waited.

Baekhyun pulled himself up and he took a step to the side so that he now stood directly in front of you. His slim hips fit between your parted knees and you could feel the rough fabric of his denim jeans scratch against the inside of your upper thighs. You did not move at all. You just watched his face as he oh so carefully placed himself between your parted legs and you felt the first light pass of his fingertips as he touched your knee.

That first touch, that gentle tickle from his slim fingers that moved over the round hill of your kneecap and then, with barely there pressure, slipped up the outside of your bare thigh and did not stop at the fabric of your skirt but kept moving along your bare skin, just the tips of his fingers, just the tips of him that you loved the most; he kept touching and you could hardly contain it. The touch was so light, so fucking delicate you wanted to cry. He took your sanity and your breath and tossed them both far away from you.

When you lost your breath it left your lips in a quiet moan and your eyes closed on their own.

You moved your hands. They ached to hold him. You reached around his waist and pulled him toward you and he fit inside well when you moved your hips forward off the edge of the counter and when you slipped your face into the space below his chin where you could smell the skin of his neck, the smell of him overloaded your senses. It was just soap. He was just clean smelling but he smelled so unbelievably comfortable and familiar you inhaled deeply with your lips parted just over the surface of his skin.

The closer proximity gave you another sensation. You could feel the heat and stiffness between his legs that fit so perfectly between your own. You wanted to wrap around him. You wanted him closer. The desire was powerful and you felt the grip of his hand as he squeezed high on your thighs and his hips pushed forward for the sake of the friction itself.

“I promised,” you felt the vibration of his voice in your lips that you pressed against the side of his neck, “anything you want — you can have anything.”

It wasn’t quite a question. His statement was fractured and you could hear the trembling in his voice that made his thoughts as unstable as you felt inside of yourself right now.

“What is it you want to do? Do you want to watch a movie? Hmm? Do you want to go for a walk? Is there something else you want?”

You felt his words vibrating though his chest. You loved the sound of his voice but feeling it echoing against your own skin brought a warm comfort into your soul.

“I,” you had to keep your eyes closed and you pulled your lips away from his skin for a second. “I don't want you to do anything you aren’t ready for.”

As flimsy as you felt inside you knew you would never forgive yourself for pressuring him. You knew you needed to hear it from his own lips that he wanted more before you would let anything happen. You’d take 10 more frozen showers if you had to; just to hold yourself back.

You could feel it in that moment. You had a lifetime only for him. You could wait a lifetime for him.

“Bug, what are you doing? I feel like I’m losing my mind.” He was speaking just above your head and despite the pressure inside your heart to stop, to wait, to keep yourself under control you still gave into the urge to tighten your thighs around his hips and push your pelvis forward against him. You still pulled him into you with the arms you’d wrapped around him and you heard the trembling moan that vibrated through his chest wall.

“I can stop if you want. Peanut, tell me to stop and I will stop.”

His hands left your hips and you loosened your hold around his body when he moved. When you pulled your face back his hands were in his own hair and he was scratching roughly at his scalp with his fingers and his face was screwed together in a tight scrunch of all of his features. It was a look of confusion. It was uncertain and unsure and you looked at his face with your head cocked to the side when it dawned on you that he wasn’t picking up on the many many obvious clues you were putting down. Was he just so used to you cuddling and touching him that he really did not know what you wanted from him? Did he not watch you rip down the sign from your door and sit down here on this counter with your skirt hiked up so far he could probably see your panties if he just dropped his chin a few inches. Did he really have no idea?

“Stop what? What are you stopping? What is happening right now? I don't understand. You never told me what you wanted. And I can't think straight with you touching me so much. I’m going crazy. Tell me what to do.”

Was this real? You looked into the pained expression on his face and you lifted your eyebrows in surprise at what you saw. You saw him holding back. You saw him suffering through it. You saw confusion and uncertainty in his brown eyes and you realized that you had to be very blunt with him for him to get it. He’d been so conditioned to hide his attraction for you that this was completely new and uncharted territory for him. Despite the fact that you’d removed the stupid sign from your door and could feel the frustration all over your body from holding yourself back and the man was very clearly extremely aroused right now; you could feel how ready his body was for this, it was driving you crazy to have to stop this and tell him in plain words exactly what you wanted from him.

“Sex, Baekhyun. I am talking about sex. I want to have sex with you.”

As quickly as you’d said it, you inhaled to speak again. To clarify. To add important parameters that protected his heart.

“But, when you are ready. I absolutely don't want you doing anything you don't want to do, just because I ate three stupid bites of food. That’s actually not how this works. We have to both be ready. I will be okay no matter what we do or don't do. Please tell me you understand this is just me telling you that whenever you want to, I am ready. I want to do this with you.”

Baekhyun had removed his hands from your skin and he was still standing with his hands raised above his head. You’d pulled your legs away from his warmth and had dropped your hands to rest over your own knees as you spoke to him and he was looking into your face, watching you very carefully as you spoke with his lips parted and an indecipherable expression in his face. His eyes ticked around your features. He closed his mouth and then opened it again and you watched the words you had told him in earnest sink in deep.

When you stopped talking there was a moment when neither of you moved at all until you heard him inhale a quick breath.

“Yes,” he said and his eyebrows lifted briefly as his eyelids closed halfway, “yes,” he whispered again and his head was nodding up and down in quick shallow bursts, “yes,” he said a third time and he licked his lips quickly.

“Yes, I want to. I want to.”

His lips hung open when he quit speaking and he pushed the tip of his tongue along the edge of his front teeth. He looked into your eyes and you looked into his and you could feel the understanding coat you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. With his eyes on you; with his love in his heart; with the furrow of his eyebrows and the quiet way his head sunk to the side and the push of air from deep within his lungs; he wanted you. He wanted you to be his first.

You watched him change before your eyes. The look in his eyes darkened when the minutes passed and the desire he’d expressed out loud sat in the space between your faces and inflated and swelled until you reached out and touched it with your careful fingertips. You absorbed it and he watched you do it. You would accept his consent, this precious thing. His tongue vanished somewhere inside of his mouth and he was breathing through his parted lips as his eyes roamed over your face.

The quiet understanding moved your body and you used the small space he��d given you to hop down off of the kitchen counter. When you moved you felt him take a step back and you pivoted on your feet, brushing your shoulder over his broad warm chest in the tiny space that you and he occupied in this kitchen.

As you moved you felt the back of your hand brush against his and you reached for his fingers with your own and when you took your first steps out of the kitchen you pulled his hand and he followed you where you moved past the dining table, past the living room and the light changed when you reached the darkened hallway that led to your bedroom.

Your bedroom was dimly lit. Your table lamp sat illuminated in the corner beside your bed and the sheer curtains let in enough light for you to see the nervous expression on his face and the way he licked his lips and swallowed away the moisture in his mouth.

Baekhyun came into your bedroom after you did and you saw him turn around and close your door behind him. The action made you feel tense. The intimacy of this small space made you feel very warm. Your bedroom was smaller than his and it hadn’t occurred to you until he did it that he had never closed himself up entirely in here with you before. In all of your experiences with him coming into your room in the past he always left your door open and something about him closing it behind him made this feel all the more real. You had sudden butterflies bumping around inside your stomach.

When he turned back around to face you he ran one trembling hand through his hair and his steps paused halfway through the room as he seemed to second guess his destination mid journey. He recovered though and pushed through it, coming to stop in front of your bed and turning around to sit down on the edge of it with his hands on his knees.

He was acting so nervous that it was making you feel nervous too. In fact, now that he was in here with you he seemed to be more nervous than he was excited about this. It made you pause.

“Are you okay?” You sat down beside him on your bed with your small question and you felt the warmth of his arm as you leaned against him.

Baekhyun closed his eyes and he inhaled a breath. You felt him exhale slowly and with it he leaned against you, slumping hard against your arm and he was warm and he was everywhere. The connection, that contact was powerful with how quickly you were overcome with the warmth and the feeling of him.

“I’m just anxious...I don't really know what I’m doing. What if I’m bad at it?”

He wasn’t second guessing doing this with you. He was naturally unsure of how things might go and was probably putting way too much pressure on himself to live up to some made up standard he’d set in his own head.

You stood up suddenly, feeling very in love with this man and feeling a strong need to protect him from everything, even from his own self doubts. He was brilliant. He was a good person. He was good at everything he did. He was already so good at loving you. You could see it in everything he did for you.

Your movement pulled his focus and his eyes followed when you moved to stand in front of him. You took a step closer to him, and your legs landed between his parted knees. His hands remained fisted stubbornly on his own knees but his eyes were open and he was looking at you standing in front of him.

“Baekhyun, do you trust me?”

He didn’t hesitate. He nodded his head up and down and you smiled down at him as he looked up at you. You lifted a hand and ran it over the back of his head and you saw the blink of his eyes when you slipped your fingers into his hair and scraped them against the back of his scalp. His lips parted and his eyes rolled.

“And do you love me?”  

Your other hand cupped his pretty face and his eyes opened back up as he looked at you again. He nodded his head again, slower this time.

“Then that’s all it takes to be good at it. I’ll help you with the details. You just do what feels good.”

“Just do what feels good? I can do that.” He whispered into the quiet space of your dark bedroom and you felt the heat flooding along the surface cells of your skin. He had been sitting when he reached for you as he stood and placed his hands on the sides of your face.

“Kissing you feels good,” he said and the warmth of his breath could not prepare you for him. You felt his mouth cover yours. You felt his tongue and his teeth biting lightly as he pulled your bottom lip inside of his mouth.

“Touching you feels good,” he whispered into your open mouth. You felt his hands then and he was everywhere. You were unprepared. This was not something you would survive with your sanity intact. You’d wanted so much. You’d waited for so long that the first real kiss, the first real touches from his hands rendered you nearly completely incapacitated.

The short skirt afforded him an expansive lot of skin to explore with his wandering hands. He gripped and he squeezed behind you, you felt the tips of his fingers squeeze your ass roughly and his hips were pushing into you. As convenient as these clothes were, they quickly lost their charm. You needed more skin. You needed to be done with them. You lifted both of your hands and you placed them on his shoulders and you firmly pushed him down to sit on the bed in front of you. He complied instantly and his eyes opened to look into your face as his heavy breaths flew through his parted lips.

You reached for the bottom of your shirt and you lifted straight up, pulling it over your head in a single smooth motion and before you lost the nerve you reached for the side zipper of your skirt and pushed it down, letting it fall to the floor you stepped out of it.

A burst of pride filled your chest. You’d made a good decision with the matching bra and panties set.

His eyes were on you and you saw a spark in them. This was a new expression on him that you hadn’t seen, although something in his eyes as he looked at you brought along a wave of deja vu. Something you’d only seen as quick as a lightning flash in his eyes as he kneeled before your naked body that night, the night of the storm.

He was looking at you and then he was touching you. You felt his warm hands slip a slow pathway along your hips.

“God, Bug. You’re so fucking pretty, I’m not going to make it.” When he leaned into you, you felt his mouth, the softness of his lips and the warm puff of air from his breathing as he inhaled his oxygen from the bare skin the space just below your breasts. His hands traveled now, with firmer pressure as he moved, you felt slim fingertips move higher and slip below the back strap of your bra.

You promised you’d help with the details. You reached behind and unclasped your bra hooks and the elastic gave. You pulled the garment down your arms and Baekhyun was leaning back onto your bed, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he leaned, he pulled you with him. His mouth was on your skin, he tasted and he when he pulled your hardened nipple into his mouth and sucked you nearly lost your mind. Your back arched and you moaned, closing your eyes tightly as his mouth worked on the sensitive nub. He moved like a fire and his hands touched you everywhere. Absolutely nothing about the way he touched you felt like he had any capacity in his whole body to be bad at this.

“This is too much,” he complained into your skin. You felt it too, but you craved even more.

You needed his skin. You wanted to feel it under your fingertips and with your lips. You wanted to kiss him and taste him and smell him as he was doing to you.

When you reached for his shirt, he left you pull it off him and when your hands flew to the button of his jeans he sat up on his knees to let you unzip him.

You felt that your own breathing was frantic. You felt too out of control. You wanted too much too fast to stand this.

Baekhyun stood to push himself out of his jeans and he joined you again with thin boxers straining against his hard erection. Your legs parted and you pulled him into you, still clothed in your panties and he landed perfectly in between your parted legs on the bed. His breathing was too fast and he whined out loud when you reached for him and palmed his hardness over his underwear. With every touch you could see him teetering on the edge. He would not last this way. You didn't really want him to.

“Too much. It’s too much. Fuck.” His self control was shaky. He was already a mess. You felt drunk on the sight of him. The sounds he made, trembling, whining with his eyes closed and with your hands on him, those noisy sounds hit you like heroin, you wanted him to come. You wanted to hear it and you watched to watch his face as he did it.

“I’m not going to make it. It’s too much already, I can’t,” he was whining again and his mouth was on yours as he kissed you, pulling your tongue into his mouth when you gave it to him. He was shaking already. You could see him losing control. If you kept touching him he would come in his boxers.

“You can come first,” you whispered into his ear before you bit down on the smooth skin of his neck. His breaths came out in jagged bursts.  

“But, too soon,” he complained with closed eyes. Your hand rubbed over him again and his hips pushed forward into the feeling as you squeezed and pulled with your palm around the cloth covered head of his dick.

“I want you to come first. You feel so good in my hand like this. I want to hear you come for me Baekhyun and then I’ll show you how you can touch me until you’re ready again.”

Your fingers slipped under the elastic of his waistband as you spoke and you felt him stiffen on top of you when you wrapped your hand around the smooth skin of his shaft.

“Oh God, Oh God,” he called out in his beautiful voice once you’d gotten him inside of your hand. You could feel the drops of wetness that had already collected at his tip and you used your thumb to spread the wetness over him and he let out a loud whine from the back of his throat as you did it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t — I have to —” he complained and you felt his muscles contract as he stiffened on top of you, he pushed again with his hips and with his mouth open and his eyes screwed shut you felt the first pulses along the length of him followed by the rush of warm liquid that flooded the palm of your hand and seeped through the thin fabric of his boxers. He trembled all over as he came and he went motionless save for the occasional satisfying twitch.

You felt positively possessed by the arousal. You pulled your hand out from his boxers and much of his mess had quickly soaked his underwear and even the panties you still wore and the bed sheets below you both felt sticky and moist. Still you saw the shine of wetness on your fingertips and his eyes followed you as you stuck your fingertips into your mouth and sucked off the taste of him, swallowing down the taste of his cum.

He reeled from it. He breathed heavily and his mouth hung open, the evidence of just how much all of this affected him written as plain as day all over his face. His eyebrows screwed together and then he moved a hand down the inside of your thigh, running his fingertips lightly over the soaked fabric of the lace panties you wore. Most of it was from you.

“Take them off,” you said. His fingers pulled at the sides and you lifted your hips as he rolled them off your legs.

When he came back his eyes feasted and his hands moved slowly, reaching forward for you, cautious yet desperate to touch everywhere. The first touches were light and you moved your hand down to place your warm palm over his hand between your legs. The details; the right place to touch you and the right amount of pressure. He was paying close attention to your fingers and you could feel his hand following your lead. He was driving you crazy. You were so desperate for him.

“Do you feel how wet you made me?”

You knew how wet you were. You were dealing with it for a significant amount of time already but something about guiding his fingers and slipping them between your folds as you taught him the movements; the way to make you come. He was directing his fingers and moving them over you in a way that felt amazing, you felt quickly undone with the rhythmic passes over your clit. You were so turned on even this amount of touch from him had you squirming in place almost immediately.

“I did this?” He had a spark in his eyes as he asked and you saw the small grin that took over his face. His eyes were on your face as he moved and you pulled your hand away when you noticed he caught on instantly to the kinds of movements that could drive you crazy. Every sound you made had him chasing the same sound and every time you flinched his eyes would fly up to your face as if you were a puzzle he had to solve and he was determined to get it right. You felt his fingers moving over your clit, pulling between digits and adding pressure when he abruptly pulled his hand away you opened your eyes and gasped at the sudden loss. He had dropped his shoulders and you saw the top of his head with his fluffy hair buried between your legs a split second before you felt the softness of the tip of his wet tongue slip between your folds and bump against the already swollen and oversensitive spot.

The man was an overachiever. You gasped out loud when his mouth opened and the suction of his mouth pulled hard enough to send a jolt of electric pleasure through your nervous system. You cried out and squirmed below his mouth and he pushed his fingers inside of you as he did it again. The room spun. You had to close your eyes and your hands reached down to touch his head. You threaded your fingers into his hair and when he did it again you gripped around the brown strands, you pulled his hair as he pulled hard with his mouth. He moved his tongue at the same time and you could not contain the trembling or the strong wave you gave into as you came. Your legs were shaking and he was still pulling. It was quickly becoming too much to take. You squeezed your thighs and reached for him, pushing him firmly away, he quickly pulled his face up from between your legs and the man was soaked. You were trying to breath and he was smiling his wide and blinding smile at you.

“Baekhyun, how?” You couldn't get the words out. You felt too out of breath from the orgasm and his smile was so lovely he lit up the room with it. You shook your head back and forth and exhaled the first breath that wasn’t shaking since he’d gotten his mouth on you.

“Did I do it right?” He was fishing. He sat there on his ankles and the moisture on his chin and neck reflected the dim lighting from your lamp.

“So good, Baekhyun. It was so fucking good. You’re amazing.” His nose scrunched and his eyes blinked when you said it. It was the truth. You hadn’t imagined that he could learn so quickly and perform so well. You could see the puff of his chest with your honest compliments and his hands were touching you again— light, absentminded touches; you felt him move again. The fire felt somewhat quenched for now as he moved and he blinked slowly at you as he dipped and he shifted in place. He was pushing his boxers off as he moved and you could see from the light in the window the beautiful shape of him completely bare before you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you said in awe at the sight of him. He licked his lips and glowed in the dim lighting. His smile pulled at his lips and you swooned to see him. You could also see that he was hard again.

You reached for him when he dropped to you and you met in the middle, reaching for his face as he reached for yours and his lips and tongue tasted like your arousal for a moment before you swallowed the taste away and found that familiar taste of him. The undeniable and addictive smell of the air that came from his lungs. The scent of the thin layer of sweat that sat over his skin and the heat that mingled and mixed with the smell of your own skin as he pressed himself against you.

Baekhyun was situated with his hips between your legs and you held your breath when you felt the first bump of his hardness as he slipped around within your wetness.

He pushed himself up on his knees and his eyes looked into yours. He didn’t move right away but you felt him reaching down between where you were separated and his eyes were down on his hand as he positioned himself at your entrance.

Baekhyun was looking into your eyes when you felt the tip of him and he pushed himself inside. He pushed forward with his hips; you felt the stretch; the pressure of it. A gasp escaped your lips and his eyes were on you when his mouth fell open. He pushed further and his eyes rolled back into his head, closing up as he filled you completely. You were filled. It stole your oxygen. You were overwhelmed by everything.

He went completely motionless when he got inside of you. When he was finally inside of you.

“Oh my god,” he said with his eyes closed up. His head was moving and small whimpers came from his throat when he pulled out and he pushed in again. You were transfixed by watching his face. “Holy fuck,” he spoke freely and noisily and when he wasn’t whining he was moaning out loud. When he wasn’t moaning he was cursing and you were lost under the spell of him. He quickly found a rhythm as he chased the need to move, pulling out and pushing in again and his movements grew more confident.

You were getting lost in him. You could feel the way your body clung to him tightly and you pulled him into you when he pulled away. Your mouth found his as he dropped down to you and pushed inside roughly and you wrapped around him when you felt him rolling. You found yourself surrounding him and surrounded by him at the same time. You were on top of his lap and the dizziness of the movement made your head spin. His arms wrapped around your waist and he sat up with you on him and still inside of you and he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and you held on to him so tightly. Tight enough that the movements of your body slowed and you felt him push deep inside of you again and again. His mouth was on yours and you shared the same air just as completely as you shared the same space.

Your heart was raging inside of your chest and the ache to get closer to him pulsed with it. The need for closeness was overwhelming. Your nails dug into the skin on his back and you bit down on his shoulder with your teeth. The need was too deep. Your mind was lost to it and you whimpered into the skin of his neck when you felt the wave overtake you again.

You were lost.

You were lost.

You could feel yourself shaking all over and you squeezed tightly around him when you felt the flood of his heat inside of you and the heavy breathing in your own chest mirrored his own as he gripped your body tightly and held you so close to him.

The spell took ages to break. You held onto each other for too many heavy breaths to count and when you lifted your head from where you were buried in his neck his hands lifted to cradle the back of your head.

Baekhyun’s lips were back. He kissed you deeply and slowly and you melted into him, feeling the fatigue in your limbs nagging you.

You were laid down and the substantial messes were ignored for now. You were kissed again and again and when those kisses turned quicker and sloppier you felt your own lips pulling into a smile.

Your body was nagging you though. You felt the need to clean yourself up. You knew you’d have clean your bed too and when you’d finally managed to extract yourself from his arms and his lips you made your way into your bathroom. It was your second shower of the day only this time you turned on the hot water to heat up.

A quick peek into your bedroom gave you a glimpse of him. Baekhyun was laying on your bed, still naked and laying flat on his back. After a few moments he moved and sat up, pulling the sheet below his body with the tips of his fingers. He was making a face to himself, scrunching up his nose and sticking his tongue out as he pulled on the wet fabric of your bed sheets and it made you laugh out loud.

“Is it always this messy? Bug—” he was calling out to you from the bed. He looked a little like he might be trapped there. “Bug? Bug, help. It’s all over my stomach. What do I do with it?”  

His hands were reaching out and you saw him grab the first soft thing he touched. It was pink and it was fluffy and it had been sitting in the corner of your bed. Your temper flashed hot. He was not about to use your cutest most innocent stuffed animal for this.

“Peanut, if you wipe up your cum with Mr. Nibbles, I’ll never, ever forgive you. Put him down.”

His hand opened and the pink fluff fell to the floor below. Safe for now. Baekhyun was sitting up on the side of your bed and he was mumbling to himself. “It’s not just mine, LoveBug. We made this mess together.”

“Well let’s clean up together then,” you said, with a few steps in his direction and reached for his arm, pulling him up from the bed toward your bathroom where the hot water was steaming up the mirror and calling out to you. The building hunger pangs in your stomach called to you as well. All at once, the needs came at you one by one.

You heard a low stomach rumble coming from the beautiful naked man whose arm you pulled through the doorway of your bathroom.

“And then we can eat together,” you sing-songed and you heard the small huff of a laugh that came from his nose. His smile was wide and he looked at you with so much affection in his eyes.

“And then we can take a walk together and hold hands, and watch a movie together and we can wash the bed sheets together and play a game together. An easy game though. Not one of those hard ones where I just die and die. We can play a nice game together and you can let me win at least one time. Not every time, just once is fine. I can’t win every time, it’s just not realistic. I will understand. I am a very understanding person.”

You weren't done. Once you’d gotten going you really couldn't help the excitement that took you over when you imagined all of the things you wanted to do with him. You had a list in your head of all of the things you wanted and you could hear the quiet giggles from Baekhyun that were nearly drowned out by the running water that you were about to step inside.

“Oh! And then we can delete your dating profile together and you can tell me how long you’ve been in love with me and I will tell you about all of the sex dreams I’ve had about you. And then—”

His hand pulled you back. The warm water had been so close you could already feel the refreshing cleanliness that was just within your grasp. The frown that formed on your lips was short lived because you felt his warm arms encircle your shoulders and he pulled you into his chest.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he was saying it again and again. You could hear the smile on his lips as he said it and his love declarations coated you completely both inside and out and you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into your arms as you squeezed him tightly.

“We have so much to do together,” he said softly into your hair after the truth of the love declarations had settled and you ran your hand through the back of his head, pulling his hair through your fingertips with each pass.

“A lifetime of them,” you said. Your heart felt so full and somehow you couldn’t find it in you to feel anxious about saying this to him. It was the truth that you felt inside of your heart, you felt it so completely.

He pulled his face back to look into your face and you saw a remarkable serenity in his warm brown eyes. His lips pulled into an easy smile and he inhaled a breath to respond to you.

“A lifetime, Bug,” he said with a nod of his head and a spark in his eyes, “together.”

[The End]

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10 , FINAL Part 10.5

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob @baekswifey @punchmebaekhyun @xlxbaekhyuneex @sorrowinblood @catseohyun @rossemayme @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @marovekian1 @versaexact@czechkpoptrash

#Baekhyun #Exo #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fiction #exo fic #exo fanfiction #exo fiction #baekhyun ff #baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun series #exo series #baekhyun fluff #exo fluff

[kitkat1003]

When the Tide pulls away and the Earth Sharpens to Steel

Chapter 2: But He Burns All the Same

HUGE Warning for this chapter -Temporary Suicide -Graphic Depictions of Violence -Blood and Gore Nothing too crazy imo, but still enough cause for an alarm I imagine.  Just want y'all to know what you're getting into. Enjoy!

AO3 Link

In the end, very little changes.  Tang still continues through the days, as winter turns to spring turns to summer turns to fall.  Almost lazily, Bajie and him fall into a routine just a little different, where they no longer have to dance around their feelings.  Lingering touches can mean something, can lead to something.  Tang can blush and get teased and not be terrified of being found out, of ruining anything.

The days are very much a routine.  He goes out to meditate, and comes back to help Bajie cook.  He’s not actually much help, considering that of the two, Bajie has far more experience in cooking, but he certainly does try.

Bajie seems to enjoy teaching Tang, regardless of Tang’s missteps.  Tang thinks Bajie likes feeling like the smart one for once.  Likes seeing Tang fumble around awkwardly.

Bastard.

The other monks notice Tang’s chipper mood, but no one was ever that interested in anything Tang has done or been, unless it’s to admonish his misconduct.  So, they leave well enough alone.

All save for one.

Tang is coming back from meditation to see what wonderful concoction Bajie is cooking up for dinner when a hand grabs him by the shoulder.  He whips around, startled, and comes face to face with

“Bao,” he grinds out.  “Have you taken up stalking?”

“You’ve been a ghost in the monastery for months,” Bao argues.  “I just wanted to see what you were up to.” 

He steps around Tang and towards the doorway.  “Collecting occult objects?  Sneaking in meat?”

Tang runs so that he’s back in front of Bao, trying to stop the monk’s advance.  His face is bright red, a mix of rage and embarrassment.  If Bao finds out about Bajie-well, the whole monastery will.  The one thing that brings Tang joy will be thrown into scrutiny, until he can’t enjoy it anymore.

“I wanted some privacy.” It’s not exactly a lie.  “And besides, no one liked living near me anyway!  Shouldn’t you be happy I’ve found a space far away from the rest of you?”

“Why hide it then?” Bao argues, smiling when Tang cringes away from him.  “Clearly, you’re doing something you know is wrong.”

“That-that isn’t-why won’t you leave it?” Tang clenches his fists, voice quieting as he speaks, as if the thoughts turn everything to a hiss.  “If you know I’m doing bad things, then why do you care?  Everyone already thinks I’m a bad person!  What, you just want to satisfy your curiosity?”

His voice has more hurt in it than anger, because he’s spent his entire life knowing his life’s features were segmented into categories. There was the place he lived, the people who lived there, and him.  He could never be part of that whole.  He’s the outlier, always has been, and he’s learned to live with that.

It still hurt, when he thought about it.

But Bao was a reminder.  Bao pushed.  Tang could take the neglect, the snide looks, but Bao would talk.  Would intrude into the space Tang carved out for himself and himself alone, and prod at Tang’s sore spots until he snapped.  And Tang was so tired of that, nowadays, because he finally had someone that made him believe he might not deserve it.

A shadow falls over them and anything Bao was going to say doesn’t come out, silencing into a squeak.  Tang watches Bao’s gaze rise up, up, up, before locking onto something.

Bao’s eyes quickly fill with fear.

A very familiar hand rests on Tang’s shoulder, though Tang is surprised to feel Bajie’s grip tighten.  The claws dig just a little into the fabric of his shirt, though Bajie’s grip is always careful not to damage Tang or his clothing.

A growl comes from Bajie’s throat, too.  When Tang looks up, he’s surprised to see Bajie’s eyes glowing, his teeth bared.

“Tang is my mortal.” Bajie’s voice is cold.  Rage is painted in his posture, as he leans down so he’s eye level with Bao.  He huffs a breath through his nose, one that ruffles Bao’s hair.  “Mine.”

Bao flinches.

“You stay away, or I’ll find you.  You say a word about this, and I’ll find you.  Got it?” Bajie pokes a claw into Bao’s chest every time to punctuate each ‘You,’ eyes narrowed to dark slits.Bao nods, very quickly.  His head is a blur.

Bajie leans in even closer, so that his snout is touching Bao’s nose.

“Now, start fucking running.”

Bao stumbles back, trembling.  He turns on his heel and sprints down the hall, disappearing behind the corner.

Tang blinks and looks up at Bajie.  Bajie continues to stay in a battle stance, free hand splayed out with claws bared, fingers twitching.  Likely for his rake, Tang surmises.

“Bajie,” Tang reaches up and places a palm flat against the side of Bajie’s face, gentle.  As much as it is charming to have a strong demon as his protector, Tang much prefers his Bajie when he’s off the battlefield.  Bajie responds best to touch, regardless.  Sometimes words don’t reach him. 

 “Dinner will run late if we stand out here all night.”

Bajie blinks a few times and shakes himself off, lifting his hand from Tang’s shoulder carefully.  His shoulders slump down as he relaxes, a little weary after being so tense.  He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and smiles, a little strained.

“Right.  Uh, sorry.”

He ducks beneath the doorframe and heads back into their room.  Tang follows.

They make dinner in relative silence.  Tang has gotten rather proficient with a knife, and he chops up the vegetables as Bajie sets up the broth.  Bajie’s started making the noodles himself.  Apparently it’s far cheaper if you do, even if it takes longer to complete.

When they’re done, and when Bajie pours out their servings so they can eat, Tang speaks up.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says.  “I could have handled it.”

Bajie sets his bowl down with a heavy sigh, hands clenched into fists in his lap.

“He shouldn’t talk to you like that,” Bajie says slowly.  “No one should.”

“Bajie,” Tang starts, a sad smile of acceptance already on his face.  “Plenty of people here are like that.  I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be!” Bajie explodes.  “You shouldn’t have to deal with all that, it’s none of any of their business what you do!  People shouldn’t expect the worst from you!”

Bajie stares down at him with a plea in his gaze, like he’s begging for Tang to understand, but Tang looks away.  Something about what Bajie is saying, some part of Bajie’s expression, makes his chest twist something painful.  Maybe Tang has always known, deep down, that being treated the way he is is wrong, maybe he just buried that part down so it wouldn’t hurt so much.  The earnest look in Bajie’s expression, the desperation-that digs that part back up, and Tang struggles to bury it again.

“It doesn’t matter.  People think what they will of me.  I just don’t want their opinion to be any worse,” he sighs.  “I can handle what they throw at me.  I can prove that I’m better than they are.”

Bajie’s reaches over, tilting Tang’s head up and forcing Tang to look at him again.

“You don’t have to hold yourself to such a high standard, you know.  You’re allowed to be angry.  I get mad enough, and you never tell me not to be.  Why can’t you get upset?  Why do you gotta handle it all?”

Tang blinks, and his vision blurs.  When had anyone, before now, told him that he was enough?  Just as is, without need for a perfect posture, unbreakable composure.  When he was young there were times where he could almost say he was liked, but soon the other children pulled away and Tang was forced to climb his way up to somehow reach their level again.

But here Bajie is, on the same level as him, telling him the view is just fine right here.

Bajie pulls him forward, and Tang holds Bajie as tight as he can, hiding his tears in Bajie’s chest.

When he finally lifts his head up, Bajie is smiling down at him.

“See?  Nothing wrong with gettin’ upset.  Better to go through it and come out better for it than to let it sit and grow.”

“You’re just saying that because you liked going ‘protective demon’ on Bao,” Tang mutters, grinning despite himself.

“Hey—well, maybe, but that’s not the point!”

Tang presses his face into Bajie’s chest to muffle his chuckles.  Soon enough, Bajie is laughing too.

At night, when they lay together, Bajie likes to pull Tang close.  Tang will pepper Bajie’s jaw with kisses and lean his head against the demon’s chest, listening to the rumbling purr of delight Bajie is unable to stifle, along with Bajie’s heartbeat.

Being in love is something Tang finds unexpectedly warm and comfortable.  Like slipping into a slipper fitted perfectly, he stands taller and walks with far better purpose than he had before.  Even the whispers of how he isn’t a proper monk do little to stifle the swell of elation sitting in his heart, each breath making his ribs creak with strain, as if his heart couldn’t fit it all.

It’s a good type of pain, to be in love.

One night, though, Bajie presses Tang so tightly against him that Tang startles.  He’s about to ask when his lips are stolen in a kiss, and, well, he doesn’t mind that at all.  He leans into the heat, making his cheeks blush.

But a hand creeps up his thigh, beneath his clothes.

Tang is suddenly consumed by panic.

He pushes away, quickly, wide eyed and trembling.  Glancing at Bajie’s eyes show no anger, more confusion and hurt.  They’re both breathless, but Tang has to take an extra minute to get his lungs to cooperate, to be able to breathe at all.

He knew this would happen.  This was the whole point of the challenge, was it not?  He just...he hadn’t thought of it, between the shock of Bajie actually loving him and the fluttery feelings he had for the demon as well.

“I-I’m sorry,” he sputters, embarrassed.  Ashamed, even.  

He’d known that women were expected to perform for their husbands, and while Tang wouldn’t call himself a wife, he knew that there was always the expectation to perform if he began this sort of relationship.  To be unable to...it’s shameful.

Bajie looks very much like he wants to reach for him, but he keeps his hands pressed against his chest, away from Tang.  Worried.  Nervous.

“I-it’s okay.  I’m not-I want you to be comfortable.  Did I do something wrong?” Bajie assures.  Soothing.  The lack of anger makes Tang relax a little. 

“No-no, you didn’t, I just…,” Tang doesn’t know how to explain.  “I-do we have to?”

Bajie blinks a few times, confused, and he rubs the top of his head in thought, looking around before his gaze settles back on Tang.

“I thought…,” Bajie starts, haltingly.  So very careful.  “I thought that this is what mortals do.  Anyone does.  You know?  Is this about the monk thing?”

“No,” Tang replies again, firm.  “It’s hard to explain, I just…,” He takes a breath.  Shuffles a little closer.  

Bajie’s hand settles on the bedroll.  Tang places his own on top of it, like an olive branch.  He feels Bajie relax, a little.

“What do you like about me?” Tang asks. 

Bajie tilts his head to the side, at the question.  It’s an odd one, but Tang has heard time and time again that consummation equals the truest love.  And yet, if that were true, why love any other part of your partner?  Why think of anything besides this moment?

Tang has a plethora of things he loves about Bajie.  He hopes that Bajie is the same.

“I mean it literally,” Tang clarifies.  “Why are you in love with me?”

Bajie shifts, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling.  His hand does not move from where it is, in Tang’s, so he rubs a circle into the back of it with his index finger.  He turns it into a spiral.  Bajie’s hand is big enough for it, after all.

Bajie’s voice starts soft. “I like the way your hair looks.  It’s windswept, almost.

“I like how your face looks.  It’s very soft, and comes to a nice point, you know?  I like your eyes, because they’re a brown red I haven’t seen before, and I like your smile, because it’s kind of cheeky but mostly just kind, and I like that look you get on your face when you read, or when I make you something to eat, and I like that your hands are soft, and—”

Bajie stops, for a moment.  His eyes are wide, face  flushed, like the more he talked, the more affection burned him.

Tang thinks he’s nearly a cherry tomato himself, with how much he can feel his face steaming.

Bajie shifts to face him again.

“I love that you can talk to me about things like this.,” Something warmer enters Bajie’s voice, right then.  “Most people either tell me to go or don’t tell me anything.  You stand your ground, but you don’t just shove me away.  You tell me why the things I do upset you, so I can fix it.  Most people are too scared to bother.”

“I am scared of you, sometimes,” Tang whispers.  He’d kept that fact a secret, afraid of the look it would put on Bajie’s face, to know that Tang, even with all his love, fears Bajie even a little.

“But you still try and stop me if I push too far.  That’s trust.  That’s bravery,” Bajie rebuffs, steadfast even with the hard truth laying between them.  “I love that about you.  You’re brave.  You trust me.”

The way he says that takes Tang’s breath away.  It takes Tang a few moments to even collect himself, and when he does he still feels like he’s going to melt into a puddle.

“Right,” he starts, and Bajie chuckles before he continues.  “And what does that, any of that, have to do with,” He gestures vaguely to the whole concept they’re avoiding.  “Sex?”

Bajie opens his mouth, and then closes it.  Tang watches the thoughts bounce around Bajie’s brain with a fond smile, until Bajie finally looks back at him.

“I guess it doesn’t,” Bajie mutters, and then laughs, incredulous.  “You’re so smart, you know that?  Sometimes I wonder if you’re wasted, here.” 

He reaches over and brushes a hair back behind Tang’s ear.  Tang chuckles, both at the sentiment and at the motion. Perhaps laughing will help the butterflies out of his stomach.

“This place is my home,” he says, and he shrugs.  “I belong here.”

Bajie’s smile flattens into a straight line for a moment, but he doesn’t argue.  Silence falls upon them, as Tang’s fingers trace shapes into Bajie’s hand and arm, until Bajie speaks up again.

“I uh-I thought for a second it might be because of, uh, this,” Bajie gestures vaguely at his person, and Tang raises a brow.

“You just gestured to all of yourself,” He says.

Bajie flushes, embarrassed, before huffing out, “The biggest hurdle most mortals have to get over is that I’m not exactly conventionally attractive, by mortal standards.” 

Bajie doesn’t look him in the eye.  It’s said matter of factly, and there’s an undercurrent of hurt that has Tang’s brow furrowing.  Tang doesn’t know about the partners Bajie’s had before, but he does know Bajie has been chased out of many towns.  He wonders how much of it was because of Bajie’s attitude and how much of it was his appearance.

“That’s true.  You’re not,” Tang replies bluntly.

Bajie seems surprised, before Tang continues.

“You’re not mortal.  You’re not human.  It would be ridiculous to use those standards to classify you as attractive or not.  By my standards….”

He trails off for a moment, and when he continues, his smile is coy.  “Well, you’re quite outstanding.”

“Tang,” Bajie starts, and it comes out choked out, the blush moving from embarrassment back to attraction.

Tang scoots closer, and reaches up to Bajie’s face.

“You have lovely ears.  Perfect for hearing anyone who would dare attack you.  They blush like your cheeks, did you know?  I always love that about them.  Gorgeous blue eyes.  Two different shades, even.  Most mortals are stuck with one, but I suppose this was a treat from the gods for me,” Tang fiddles with the ears for a moment, before his hands trail down. 

Bajie doesn’t seem to know how to handle this much affection.  His eyes are locked on Tang’s, and his lips are slightly parted in shock.

“You have such strong tusks.  Very imposing,” Tang wraps his fingers around them, grips them for a moment.  “Perfect for biting through most anything.  A strong jaw.” 

He trails the shape of it with his finger.  “To show you mean business.  Powerful vocal cords.”

Tang smooths a hand down Bajie’s neck.  Bajie shivers.  “To shout at anyone who would challenge you.  Broad shoulders so that you loom.   Sharp claws to cut through any obstacle.  Strong arms to lift that rake of yours.”

“Burly legs so you can move faster than any mortal would dare, and,” Tang has to laugh. “An adorable tail that you can’t stop from wagging when you’re happy.”

Bajie just stares, as if no one has ever said something like that to him in all his years of life.  The tragic thing, to Tang, is that it’s likely that that’s the case.  He pulls himself up, so that he and Bajie are eye to eye.

“I almost forgot your lovely snout,” he leans forward and places a kiss there.  “Perfect for kisses.  All of it makes you the most beautiful demon I’ve ever seen.  My Demon.  My Bajie.  My Pigsy.”

Each phrase is punctuated by another peck.  The last title snaps Bajie out of his haze, and he grins, lopsided and gorgeous.

“Pigsy?” he asks.

Tang flushes a little.  “Do you not like it?” 

Bajie lifts Tang up and shifts so he’s on his back, placing Tang on top of him.

“I love it,” he murmurs.

Tang smiles and curls on top of Bajie like he’s always belonged there.

They lay there for a moment, until Bajie opens his mouth.

“Did I still win the challenge?”

Tang laughs so hard  he cries, tickled by the memory of a conversation what feels like a lifetime ago finally coming to its close, leaning down until his forehead is resting against Pigsy’s.

“Of course you did.  You got me, didn’t you?”

They have arguments.  Disagreements, really.  Arguments imply real hatred and they never have that, not for each other, but they do disagree.

Bajie wants Tang to come with him, to leave the monastery and go out into the world.  But Tang can’t.  Not when everyone here already expects him to fail, to be the worst of them, to fall away from the religion and be the lesser monk they think him to be.  What would they say, if he disappeared into the night, never to be seen again?

“I don’t understand why that matters,” Bajie stresses, during one such disagreement.  “You know they’re never gonna be satisfied.  And what about when they find out about me, huh?  How are you gonna swing that?”

“I know!” Tang cries, head in his hands from the frustration.  “I know, I know that, but what can I do, Bajie?  I can’t just leave, they’re my family, this is my home.  What don’t you understand?”

Family is difficult to handle, and Tang knows his isn’t perfect, isn’t terribly kind, but it’s his.  It’s so hard to imagine disappearing.  Could he even come back?  Obviously not, they already dislike him, so there’s no way he could leave.  How could he keep in contact?  The mail moves so slow, and how would they write him back when he’s moving around so much?  Would they even write to him?

Bajie doesn’t get it.  Bajie doesn’t have a family like Tang does.  Hecan just salt the earth and leave and lose nothing.  Tang could lose everything.  He needs his foundation.  He needs something to go back to.

“Tang,” Bajie starts, soft and gentle, but unrelenting.

Tang raises a hand to silence him.

“Stop asking,” He says firmly.

His voice takes on a more desperate edge as he adds a quieter “Please.”

He needs to figure this out for himself, and if he’s constantly being pressured one way over the other, how can he make an informed decision?  He just needs a little more time.

Bajie’s brow furrows, eyes going dark for a split second before his expression empties, like everything has been poured out of him.  Tang stiffens, because the lack of reaction is frightening, somehow, like he’s been pushed to the edge of a cliff, and isn’t sure how long the precipice can hold him.

But then Bajie leans down, and presses a kiss to his forehead, soft.

“Alright,” Bajie whispers.  “I love you, you know.”

“I love you too,” Tang whispers, promises, hopes.

Bajie starts leaving.  At first, it’s only for a few days.  Then, the trips become longer.  A week.  Two.  

He’s never gone longer than a month, and he always tells Tang the night before that he’ll be gone in the morning.  Tang will wake up to the feeling of a soft kiss to his forehead and he will watch Bajie trudge out of their room as sunlight peeks over the horizon.

Tang hates every second that Bajie is gone.  Hates that the monotony of his normal life is no longer satisfactory.  He had forced himself to be satisfied with the mundane, the normal, the expected.  Then Bajie had come in and smashed all his expectations and made Tang yearn for more again.

At the very least, Bao is no longer a problem.  Tang feels a sense of satisfaction that when he enters a room, Bao is quick to leave it.

“I wish you wouldn’t leave so much,” he says, during a night when Bajie is here, and close, and Tang can lay with him.  “You never seemed bothered before.  You never went anywhere for this long.”

“I had a goal, then,” Bajie rumbles, voice soft.  “You’d be surprised by how easy it is to forget about other stuff when you have a task.  But I’m a demon, with a nine toothed rake that isn’t for tilling land.  I’m not made for domestic life.  Not when I’m just getting started.”

The explanation feels almost like a farewell, and something in Tang’s chest squeezes tight in a panic.  Tang isn’t a demon, he isn’t a fighter.  He’s the definition of domestic, isn’t he?  If Bajie isn’t made for domestic life, maybe Tang isn’t made for him.

“Can’t you stay?” Tang whispers, interlocking his fingers with Bajie’s.  His hand is dwarfed by Bajie’s large palm.  “Just for a little while.  Just—am I not enough?”

“Can’t you come with me?” Bajie rebuffs, voice almost too pointed.  “Aren’t I enough?”

And, well, there’s no winning the argument there.  Unstoppable force meets immovable object, and Tang’s afraid of the crash.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.  “It’s never because you aren’t enough.” 

He needs Bajie to know that, to know that Tang isn’t doing this because Bajie failed, in some way.  Tang wishes he could feel secure enough to jump ship, to leave everything behind like Bajie wants.

But, regardless of what Bajie thinks, Tang has never been brave.

Bajie says nothing.  Tang wonders what the silence means.

As Tang wrestles with himself, his wants, his life, he finally comes to his conclusion.  He rethinks life, his own, from beginning to present, and like any good story he wants a happy ending.  Who doesn’t?

And he realizes, at the center of it all, that a happy ending isn’t possible if Bajie isn’t there.  That in every path Tang’s life leads him down, Bajie has to be there if it's to end with a smile.

And if Bajie needs Tang to leave, then Tang will swallow his terror and take the leap.  He has to at least try.  If it doesn’t work, if Tang fails, then...then he’ll only have himself to blame, won’t he?

He has to try.

There’s preparations to be had.  He researches.  While Bajie is out on trips to who knows where, Tang learns about the marriage methods of demons.  Apparently, when a demon takes a mortal’s hand in marriage, they kidnap the mortal, steal them away.  There’s an exchange of courting jewelry.  A physical claim.

He doesn’t have the money for jewelry, but he thinks he could do something else.  So he buys some paper, some leather, some twine, and carefully, he constructs a book.  A journal.  Something that they can write in for years to come, something they can share.  Maybe it’s unorthodox, maybe it isn’t good enough, but Tang wants to be able to look back.  He wants to see Bajie’s scrawled sentences, words written comically large next to Tang’s smaller, tighter script.

Maybe it isn’t the right way, but it’s Tang, in every sense of the word.  If Bajie rebuffs that, then there’s nothing to be done.

He writes out a script.  The next time Bajie leaves, Tang works on his speech, writes and rewrites.  He memorizes until every line is burned into his head, and then goes over it again, because he knows that when he says it he’ll stumble.

He plans, and strategizes, and hopes.

 This time, when Bajie returns, Tang can tell something is off. Bajie is….distracted.  He spends more time off to himself, staring out the window, than he does interacting with Tang.

It makes Tang anxious.  It feels like the moment before an explosion.  He wants to broach the subject, but he’s afraid of being caught in the blast zone of whatever Bajie is hiding.

So he sets the plans aside and focuses on lifting the terrible fog that makes Bajie stare at him like Tang is already gone.  Like Tang is some far away place that Bajie cannot reach.

It seems to work.  Tang complains uproariously about different texts he’s been reading in the interim of Bajie’s stay, and he gets Bajie to laugh.  He helps make dinner and remarks on how invaluable he is to Bajie’s cooking process.  Bajie rewards him with a few stories of some customer service issues he had to resolve when he worked as a cook.

“She had to get thrown out by the owner, she was screaming so loud,” Bajie laughs.  “It’s a good thing he settled things with her and not me.  I woulda given her the what-for, if she’d screamed at me.”

“I have no doubt,” Tang giggles.

It settles, as they become comfortable with each other again.  Every time Bajie leaves and comes back, it’s like they have to slowly get back in sync with each other.  Sometimes it takes longer than Tang likes.  Like now, where it feels like it takes weeks.

Bajie stays for an entire month and it takes most of that to get back to that comfortable place their relationship should always be in. A month full of Tang making excuses to wait to propose, making excuses to be patient, to give it a little more time.

But, after a month, things seem comfortable.  Tang swallows his fears.  Bajie called him brave once and Tang has to live up to that, right?

Except, after a week of things seeming okay, Bajie suddenly closes himself off again.  Goes quiet, empty.  Pensive and secretive in the worst way.

“Don’t shut me out,” Tang whispers, a hand against Bajie’ cheek.

Bajie’s sitting down, staring out the window, and Tang is standing, as he slowly turns Bajie’s face toward him.  “Is something wrong?  Tell me, please.  You’ve been...different.”

Bajie still stares at Tang as if Tang were the world, except now it’s as if the world is crumbling in front of him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Tang promises.

He leans in, so his forehead rests against Bajie’s.  Bajie leans into the touch, eyes shut.

“I’m sorry,” Bajie’s voice is soft.  “I—nothing’s wrong.  I’m just...I’ve been thinking too much.”

“That’s a first,” Tang smiles, trying to joke.  

Bajie’s lips twitch upward, but he doesn’t smile.

Tang glances back, towards the book hidden, and thinks of the speech burned into his brain.  He could let everything out, right now.

But Bajie looks like he needs more time.  Looks as if Tang were to push, he’d crumble.  And Tang is terrified to see Bajie break, so he decides to wait a little longer.  To stall, a little longer.

It takes far too long to coax Bajie to lay down that night, pulling his gaze away from the starry sky and back to the ground, back to Tang’s eyes.  Tang searches for something familiar in Bajie’s, but the picture is too blurred to be recognizable.

“You look tired,” he hears himself say.  “You should get some rest.”

Bajie doesn’t reply, but he does lay down, and Tang curls up against him, like he always has.  Like he always should.

“I love you,” he whispers, promises, hopes.

Bajie must say it after Tang is already asleep.  He must.

That’s the only reason Tang wouldn’t hear it said back to him.

Tang does not see Bajie sit up in the night, knees pulled to his chest.  He does not see Bajie turn to look at him, eyes watery.  He does not see Bajie run a hand over his head, shaking, glancing between the door and Tang over and over.  He does not see Bajie reach a shaking hand over Tang, a breath away from touching down, from shaking Tang awake.  He does not see Bajie pull away with a choked breath so quiet it’s almost unheard even by Bajie’s ears.  He does not see Bajie cry into his knees for far too long, and he does not see Bajie wipe his eyes, look over, and press a feathersoft, gentle kiss to the top of Tang’s head.  He does not see Bajie stand, slowly, and walk out the door, never to return.

Tang sees none of this.  He wakes up the next morning to see Bajie gone, with nothing but the indentation he left in the bedroll to indicate he was ever there.

It’s odd, because typically Bajie says something before he goes, but Tang chalks it up to the odd mood Bajie was in.  He must have simply forgotten.  The alternative is of course laughable.  Impossible.

So Tang moves on, continues with his life, and waits for Bajie to return.  

Because he has to.

Right?

It takes three months for Tang to start doubting.  

It takes six for it to start to hurt.

A year passes.

Tang feels the shelter he’d given his heart cave in as he buckles under the weight of heartbreak.   

The cliff has crumbled beneath him.  He’s fallen over the precipice, and the worst part is that no one, absolutely no one, would ever think to reach and catch him.  

Heartbreak feels like grief.  Tang has felt grief before, when his beloved masters would eventually fall to time.  Loss of a person and loss of love are equally painful, because once something is gone it can never be reclaimed.

He goes through the motions.  Moves slow, but moves regardless, like every step is through mud. He gets up, gets breakfast, gets some new scrolls.  Meditates, waits.

He just keeps on waiting.  He refuses to get rid of the fire pit Bajie made, nor the kitchen utensils, nor the pot.  He cleans them, scrubbing them all until they shine in the sunlight, polished and pristine, and then he places them back in their spots with a reverence reserved for the gods.

When Bajie gets back, he’ll want them to look nice.

Another few months pass, before logic kicks in.  Of course Bajie would leave.  Why stay with a nobody, why stay with a mortal, a monk?  There are far too many cons against the few, if any, pros.  Tang should have known that this was an eventuality.  

Sure, he’d dreamed of them growing old together, or spending eternity together, or any number of things.  But those are all that those thoughts will ever be, dreams.

Tang is a fool, to dream.

The utensils collect dust.  Tang does not read books. He doesn’t do much of anything.  He meditates, more to give himself an excuse to sit, with his eyes closed, and forget existence.

He settles again.  He must.  Logic holds him together like cheap glue, and while his cracks drop pieces as he forces himself to continue to move on, move forward, it holds enough.  Enough that he can breathe.

“Have you heard?” 

Tang is eating lunch in the common area, idly chewing on rice, and he only hears the conversation because he’s not focusing on anything else.

“The monk Triptaka is going on a journey!”

“Isn’t his name Tang Sanzang?”

“Yeah, but he goes by Triptaka.  Maybe wants to get away from a name shared by…”

Tang ignores the glances thrown his way.  He’s dealt with them plenty.

“Anyway, he’s going on a journey to get holy scriptures.  I’ve heard Bodhisattva Guanyin is even overseeing the journey herself!  She amassed a group of demons to protect him.”

“Wow, who?”

“Sun Wukong-she had to release him from under a mountain.  She also got, um, I think a dragon prince to be his steed, a demon named Sha Wujing, and one named Zhu Bajie!”

Tang freezes.  Logic starts cracking.

“What?” he finds himself saying, turning to the group.  They seem startled by his intrusion into their conversation.

“Uhhh,” one of them goes, cringing away from Tang in confusion.

“Who is on the journey?  The last name you said.” The words keep coming out of him, and Tang doesn’t have the time to figure out where they’re coming from.

“Zhu Bajie?” The name falls out of the other’s lips, and Tang recoils.

No.  No, it must be a mistake.  It couldn’t be.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

The thought is acid in his brain.  It burns, and he feels his hands shake.  The bowl drops to the floor, and shatters against stone.  Rice is wasted at his feet.

“Tang?” someone says.

It doesn’t matter that this is the first time in months that anyone has spared him a drop of concern, because Tang is running, running to their room, running to the room he’s been waiting in for months and then was grieving in for longer as the pieces of his broken heart started trying to slide back together.

Everything is shattered again, and Tang doesn’t know if he can put himself back together.

He gets to their room and falls to his knees in the center, the thud muffled by a bedroll he hasn’t had the energy in months to fold or move because that would require realizing that one half of the space would never be filled again.  He covers his mouth with his hands.  He can’t stop shaking.

He can’t.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

He thought it was because he was a mortal.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

He thought it was because he was a monk

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

Gods, he didn’t think it was because of his name, but even that avenue is gone.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

Tang sobs.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

In the end, when you strip away his mortality, you strip away his monk status, when you strip away his name, all that’s left is his character.  His personality.  Himself.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

And that’s what Bajie ran from, wasn’t it?  That’s what he abandoned.  He didn’t abandon a mortal monk named Tang, he left Tang.  The person he is at his core.  Bajie looked, was given Tang’s heart, and decided that wasn’t what he wanted.

A monk named Tang, on a journey with Zhu Bajie.

Tang laughs.

It’s funny, he thinks, after hours curled into a ball, heaving sobs and crackling laughs.  It’s so terribly funny, so terribly cruel, so terribly poetic.  He knew from a young age that he wasn’t enough, that he wasn’t a good monk, wasn’t a good person, but he’d tried.  He’d tried so hard. 

And then Bajie had come along.

And Tang had hoped.  Selfishly, he’d slacked on improvements, believed that he was enough as is.  Bajie never seemed to want more from him, never expected anything special, and Tang had grown lax, grown complacent.

No wonder Bajie had left him.  Tang was never good enough for anyone.

But maybe he can try to be.

He can’t change who he is.  Clearly, his 25 years of failure have shown him that.  He can’t change who he is at his core, but if he fixes everything else, maybe that will be enough.

Just maybe, then, he will be enough.

Step one.  Get rid of his mortality.

Bajie and him can’t share eternity if he’s dead a hundred years into it.  If he’s to reinvent himself into something worthy, into someone worthy, he needs time.  Mortality cuts that short.

He is a ghost in the monastery in the sense that he appears in rare bursts and his continued existence leads to whispers and rumors.  He leaves and does research in the library.  The stares of disapproval no longer stab through what once was pride, because that space in his chest has been torn open.  The knives pass right through the hole left in its wake.

He’s fervent.  Doesn’t sleep.  Doesn’t eat.  There is no point in maintaining a body doomed to die, regardless of his efforts.  He can care about himself when he’s worthy, when someone tells him he matters.

And no one has told him that.  Bajie can’t count anymore.  Not until Tang gets him back.

A year of research leads to nothing. 

Tang lives in the barest of senses, half dead on his feet as he works.  He has to figure it out, he has to.  The books he find tell him little.  But, then, he remembers the town.  The townspeople.  

People know plenty, when you know how to get it out of them.

He is a ghost in the town in the sense that he hides in its darkest, coldest corners and listens.  Travelers come in and out, always with stories.  Slowly, Tang learns how to use a stiff drink and a kind smile to pull the stories out.  Slowly, Tang learns how to twist until the people he talks to think that it was their idea, to say what he wants them to.

Tang does this all quietly.  He’s always had a way with words, always too afraid to use that power.  After all, a true monk wouldn’t be so manipulative, wouldn’t want the knowledge of anything beyond the buddhist texts, much less the ravings of wordly travelers.

Bajie is worldly.

Tang wants.

He has heard, from a million different whispers, of how Monkey King is able to live forever.

Folktales fall from slippery lips and Tang listens.  Tang learns and relearns, drags the specifics out with carefully placed drinks and sugary sweet honeyed words that coax out more information.  This is important.

Monkey King’s spirit was dragged down to Yama’s realm, he hears.  Monkey King blotted out his name from the ledger, so he may never die again.

Die again, he thinks, and realizes you have to die once for such a thing to be true.

He considers the stares aimed toward him.  He considers the lingering whispers of how he doesn’t belong, how he isn’t true to his practice.  He considers the years of him asking what else?  What else is there to learn?  He considers cold, disapproving eyes that followed him from youth to adulthood.

He considers blue, beautiful ocean blue ones that looked at him as if he’d hung the stars and he considers blue eyes gone in the night without a word.

Considers dying.  

Considers.

Acquiring poison isn’t difficult.  He buys it in the market (He used to go with Bajie where’d they’d pick out the vegetables and noodles for the ramen that night and make fun of weird shaped vegetables and laugh) with some coins Bajie left behind (left behind with him, like him, left left left abandoned because Tang made Bajie wait made Bajie lose love Tang ruined everything—) and stuffs it in his pocket.  He eats dinner (Bajie made it better he was always the better cook and Tang is nothing isn’t anything just the worst monk in the world—) and carefully pours himself some tea, mixes in the poison, and breathes.

It barely changes the taste.  There’s something bitter on the edge of it, but Tang drains the cup and sighs.  

He sets up his bedroll and lays down, eyes staring up at the ceiling.  He can feel a slight pain in his chest.  Likely due to the poison.  It’s not a very painful one, slow but not cruel.

Like this, he can practically feel Bajie next to him, a hand over his heart.  That must be where the weight on his chest comes from.  Must be.  Bajie has to be here, beside him, at the end of it all.  Where else would his love be?

They were having a conversation.  One hard to navigate, but Bajie was trying, so Tang would too.

“Why are you in love with me?” he tries to say, but the black edges take over his vision.

Dying isn’t so bad, he thinks, when it’s like this.

He comes to with little difficulty, laying down on stone.  The sky is a dark purple, with blue clouds.

He feels empty.  Weightless.

He stands and is immediately shuffled into a line of a million people, all spirits heading in one direction.  The dead are the dead, and he is placed with the typical mortals, those without plans.

Some are far older than him, some far younger.

The land of the dead is a palace.  He can see the entry gate, a speck in the distance.  The dead whisper amongst themselves, but he says nothing, stepping out of line.

He heads down the path away from the gate, off to the right.  Occasionally, he ducks out of the way of guards, which only proves that he’s going in the right direction.

Being dead doesn’t change much.  If anything, he feels a little lighter, without a physical body to hold him down.

He finds the room he’s looking for after about an hour, a large, seemingly endlessly long book sitting on a table, open on a table.  Tang walks over and when he looks down on it, he can see thousands of names.  Every second, another changes status.  Black for alive, white for dead.

White is a mourning color, after all.

He quickly begins searching for his own name, flipping through page after page with utter abandon and scanning, because time is of the essence.  He is fairly certain that there’s a reason only the Monkey King was known to have pulled this off, because it isn’t as though anyone besides King Yama and his attendants are meant to touch said book.

Not that Tang much cares who is and isn’t supposed to be doing this.  If he’d cared at this point, then, well, he wouldn’t have bought poison for himself.

He’s finally making headway, recognizing a few names from those who once lived in his town, when he hears footsteps coming toward his direction.

Well, not footsteps.  Hoofsteps.  The sound of cloven feet on tile.

Tang schools his expression, and continues to flip through the book, even as the steps come closer.

“Hey!” He hears.

He looks up.

Ox head and Horse face were mentioned in the stories detailing Monkey King’s escapade through the land of the dead.  They were the ones to drag the Great Sage’s spirit down, after all.  Ox head has dark eyes and a shining golden nose ring that accents the gold on his arm and leg bracers.  Horse face has golden earrings to match, and his outfit is much the same.  They both wear a leather-esque set of armor, ornate in its stitching, but scuffed with dirt from sparring matches or nonsense fights.

Tang looks them up and down, and decides immediately that they do not compare to how Bajie intimidates.

“Hello,” he greets, keeping his voice even and uninterested as he glances back down to the names on the page.

Ox head and Horse face stare, clearly taken aback by Tang’s cavalier attitude.  Tang is simply glad they can’t see his knees wobble behind the desk.  Sweat trails down the back of his neck.  He cannot fail.

He won’t.

“Mortals aren’t supposed to touch that,” Ox head growls out.

Tang looks up again, face the perfect picture of confusion, before he smiles.

“Oh,” He laughs a little.  “Clearly there’s been a communication error here.  King Yama sent me to fix a clerical mistake with this book.  I’m just looking for it now.”

He looks back down, and bites his lip to stop himself from smirking.  Time is of the essence.  If he finds his name before they catch onto the ruse, far better for it, right?  He just needs to find his name.  He can tell he’s close.

“Nobody told us about this.  And we’ve never seen you before,” Horse face interjects.

“Yeah, we’re in charge here.  Someone would’ve said something to us,” Ox head agrees.

“If you say so,” Tang replies.  “I’m simply following orders.  King Yama is a very busy man, and he wanted this completed quickly.  If you want to waste his time by dragging me to him just to get the same answer I’ve told you, be my guest.  

“But,” Tang shrugs and smiles. “I don’t believe King Yama is very forgiving, when someone is wasting his time.” 

He continues to flip through the book, ever patient.  When he glances up, for a split second, he can see Ox head and Horse face share a look.

“...You know what, I think I remember being told about, the, uh, clerical thing,” Horse face finally says.

“Yeah,” Ox head agrees, awkwardly.

“Don’t, uh, don’t tell King Yama about this, alright?” Horse face tries for a smile.

“We’ll just keep this between us,” Ox head fidgets with his arm bracers.

Tang smiles, and he doesn’t know what he looks like, but the two demons freeze.

“Of course,” hHe replies.

The pair leaves, rather quickly.

It takes Tang a few more minutes to find his name, written in white on the yellowed pages.  There are pens near the book, so clerical changes must be a plausibility.  He takes one of the small pens and dips it into the inkwell.  He carefully drags the ink across his name, blacking it out.

With a harsh yank, his soul is pulled away from tangibility, and he drops the pen with a clatter as he is rocketed back up, up, up—slammed into his body with utter abandon, weightlessness and emptiness replaced with the heavy feeling of embodiment.

He wakes up with a gasp, and when he breathes he coughs, as if his lungs collected dust in the time he wasn’t using them.  He moves his limbs experimentally, and everything moves fine.  His senses are a little duller, he thinks.  His vision was always poor, but now it’s even moreso.  He doesn’t smell much of anything.  He can barely taste his own saliva.  There’s a ringing in his ears that doesn’t go away, but eventually he gets used to the sound.

He sits up, glancing around. Everything in his room is untouched.  He is unsure of how long he was dead.

To the left, he hears the shuffling of footsteps.  He turns his head.

Bao is scrambling back, half fallen over, hand gripping the doorframe.  His eyes are wide, his breaths are coming out as gasps.

“You—” Bao breathes.  “You were dead.  I-I checked—you were dead.”

Tang stares.

Bao.  Terrible, awful, disgusting Bao.  A nuisance that plagued Tang’s life for years, a person who took great joy in Tang’s upset.  A person who, at one point, was someone Tang desired the respect of.

Terrible, awful, disgusting Bao, trembling at the sight of him.

Tang smiles, slow, letting his lips curl up to show a flash of teeth, and finally learns the joy that comes from being feared.  He winks.

“Only technically,” He says, almost hisses, and he finds a perverse sense of utter satisfaction as Bao pales, turns on his heel, and runs, as fast as he can.

Away from him.

Tang laughs to the disappearing sound of footsteps, and breathes in new air.  He thinks Bajie would be proud of him, as he stands and brushes himself off.  He’s finally stopped caring.  

Immortality achieved.  But there’s still more to do.  If he’s to be worthy, he needs power.

Which means he needs to learn how to acquire it.

He takes what will be useful, settles it into a pack, and leaves his home of a quarter of a century behind without much thought.  So silly of him, to be attached to it.  If only he’d left sooner.  If only he’d stopped caring sooner, maybe this all could have been avoided.

He leaves the utensils.  Leaves his books, the dictionary, and keeps the memories safe in the space where his heart once resided, heading off to the next town.

He becomes a vagabond of sorts, coasting from town to town.  He will devour the town library’s collection, searching for something, anything, and perhaps partake in town gossip.  People have so much to say, after all.  Finding the pearls of wisdom and knowledge beneath the swine tales, so to speak, is something he becomes rather shrewd at.  

Some of the people he talks to apparently find him attractive.

“Has anyone told you that you have beautiful eyes?” A woman he met in a small restaurant asks him.

 I like your eyes, because they’re a brown red I haven’t seen before.

“No,” Tang replies.  “But it’s kind of you to say.”

He’s drawn to a town over whispers of mystic artifacts and knowledge being held there.  It’s a rather unassuming town, no different from the others, but the library is a bit bigger than most.  He pours over texts, though in the week he spends searching for something of use he comes up short.

Frustration has him nearly tearing the pages, and he lets out a harsh breath through his nose and forces himself to be patient.  He has eternity, after all.  As does Bajie.  The execution of his plan needs to be perfect or it won’t work.

A tap on his shoulder.  Tang turns his head to glance up at the librarian, previously absent or seemingly oblivious to his existence.  She stares at him with sharp, knowing eyes.

“You seek something?” she asks.

“Knowledge,” Tang finds himself replying.  “Power.”

She smiles at him.  It’s a wicked type of smile, but nothing cruel towards him.

“Come. I have something for you to see.” She turns, and gestures for him to follow. 

Tang nearly trips over himself rushing to her side.

She leads him to a room behind the library desk, a small office with more bookshelves filled with large, old scrolls and books.  He watches her trace her fingers across the different scripts, searching, before she slides a book out from the shelf and turns, handing it to him.

“If you want power, this is how you will take it,” she says.

She opens the book in his hands, flipping it to a specific page and pointing at the picture there.

“A gem,” she explains.  “You fill it with life, and it grants you power.”

Tang reads over the text.  You take a gemstone, one typically one clear in color for better results, and then use the life force of others to power it.  After a certain amount of power is added to the gem, you fuse it with your being.

“I’ll have to kill humans?” he asks, glancing up at her.

She chuckles.  “If you want, but it would take a lot.  Demons are far more...potent.”

Tang nods.

Demons.  That may take some work.  Demons are a breed far more powerful than humans, and even as an immortal being, Tang is fragile.

And, before even that, there’s the matter of acquiring a gemstone.  Those are often expensive.

He snaps the book shut.

“Thank you.” He bows his head in thanks.  “I’ll be taking this.”

It’s not a request.  He leaves with the book in hand and starts his search for a jewel.

He finds it three towns over.  There’s a jeweler there with an assortment of gemstones.  All definitely out of Tang’s price range, but now he’s located them. 

He thinks of stealing, but that’s a fool’s errand.  Taking something that can be bought with hard work is something an idiot would do.  Tang wants to be able to move between towns as he pleases, and gaining a reputation of a criminal makes it far less likely that people will speak to him, will tell him the things he needs to know.

So, he gets a job at a restaurant.  Bajie did it once and so shall he.

The work gives him something to do.  Being immortal means sleep and nourishment are no longer a requirement, and without those time killers the days and nights stretch on longer and longer, Tang made painfully aware of every passing hour, minute, second.  His purpose, his goal, remains the same, but with his job now there’s something else to occupy his time as he plans.

Plus, it helps that he learns how to use a knife effectively.  Bajie taught him the basics, but when it’s the lunch rush you learn far more how to cut, dice, chop, and slice efficiently.  If he’s to kill demons, he needs to be able to fight.  

His coworkers do try to start conversations with him, but he is far too focused on the task at hand to join in.  They learn, eventually, that he isn’t up for talking.  Interacting with people is only useful when there is something to gain from it.

Life has made it very clear that friendships do not come to him, so there is no bother hoping.  Tang is chasing the only person who gave him some semblance of respect.  He does not need, nor want, anyone else.

No one typically comments on his appearance.  His skin is paler than most, eyes dark and shadowed.  Still, that’s not enough to raise suspicion of him.

Typically, anyway.

“Do they know?” A man asks, when Tang comes up to the counter to hand him his order.  “Do they know what you are?”

Tang glances at the man with a small smile.

The man pales.  

Tang smiles wider.

“Here’s your order, sir,” he says.

The man leaves.  Quickly.

It takes him a year to accrue enough funds to acquire the gem.  It’s a clear white stone, almost in the shape of a teardrop, and it sits comfortably in his palm.  The jeweler had asked if it was a gift for someone.  Tang chose not to reply.

Now, there’s the matter of finding a demon to power it.  Again, not very hard.  Demons are well known to ravage towns from time to time.  Steal their crops, take the flesh to devour, things like that.  The next town over has been struggling with one.  Nothing too powerful, or else they’d have had a far bigger outcry, but of interest nonetheless.

He leaves his job without notice.  He doesn’t care if they’re bereft of a cook, not when he’s so close.  He rushes off, clutching his gemstone and his knives and disappearing into the night.

The demon doesn’t attack during the day, so when he arrives he has enough time to ask around.  Gather details.

They’re some sort of rhino demon, evidently.  Charging through homes in the night, taking mortals to consume, leaving nothing but demolished buildings and blood in their wake.  The townspeople are terrified, spending most of their days fortifying their homes.  They’ve neither the money nor support to escape, and sending for help will likely take too long.

That’s fine.  Tang can take care of this for them.  They get to be saved, and more importantly, he gets the power he needs. 

Tang stands at the entrance to the town, the moon high in the sky, patiently waiting for the demon to arrive.  His knife is gripped tightly in hand.  He has his pants rolled up to his knees, though his sleeves still hang loosely.

He hears the footsteps before he sees them.  Charging hoofsteps on the ground, and the glint of blood red eyes.  The rhino demon is large, at least twice his height, and is aiming for him, specifically.

Tang side steps, holding his knife out and letting it slice through the demon’s hide as he charges past.

“Sloppy,” he calls, turning around.  

Blood drips down the demon’s side.  The demon snarls, baring his sharp teeth.  He shakes his injured leg out a few times, splattering blood across the dirt, before he stomps it back down onto the ground, readying his stance for another charge.

Tang readies himself.  “Not used to a human who fights back?” 

Bajie taught him to fight.  Well, more how to dodge, because he said if Tang got hit by a demon even once he’d probably die on the spot.  Apparently, humans are very fragile.

“Do you have to be careful, with me?” Tang asked.

“A little,” Bajie had admitted.  “I mean, you’re not made of glass.”

“I’d hope not,” He’d laughed, sitting on Bajie’s shoulder..

“But I have to be a little careful,” Bajie shrugs the shoulder Tang isn’t sitting on.  “Most demons wouldn’t.  I, uh, want you to be ready for that.”

Tang scritched the place behind Bajie’s ears that always made a purr rumble up Bajie’s throat, smiling when he heard it right on cue.

“You have a lot of enemies?” he’d asked.

Bajie laughed.

“Something like that.”

The demon charges, and Tang jumps, stepping onto the demon’s large horn and using it as a springboard.  He leaves a large gash in the demon’s back when he descends, stumbling a little when he hits the dirt.

There’s a roar of pain from the demon at that.

Tang smirks.

He ducks when a large fist is levied his way.

Jump.  Sidestep.  Dodge.  Slash.

Close quarter combat would be to Tang’s disadvantage, considering one blow would break him into pieces.  The demon knows it, refusing to allow Tang an opening to make any more distance.  Tang doesn’t let that deter him, using the milliseconds between strikes to slash at whatever part his knife can reach.

By the time he trips, the demon is bleeding in more places than Tang can count.  Not bleeding much, the gashes rather small, but bleeding a little from a lot still has an impact.

Of course, getting choked also has an impact, Tang finds.

A large hand grips him by the neck when Tang trips, squeezing tight enough to bruise and then some.  If Tang were entirely mortal, well, this would be it for him.  Needing to breathe is certainly something required of Tang, in a sense, but he can hold his breath for far longer.  He makes his eyelids flutter, sliding them shut to keep the illusion that he’s dying. 

As this happens, as he goes limp, the demon huffs. Even relaxes a little, as if the battle’s won.

Tang opens his eyes and smiles.  He slashes once more and catches the demon across the throat.

Blood sprays out as if it were thrown out of a bucket, coating Tang’s face before he’s dropped.  The demon presses his hands to his throat and chokes, coughing up blood and wheezing for air.

The demon drops to his knees.  Tang comes close.

He drives his knife into the demon’s head, right below the horn, and the demon goes limp.

Tang side steps the falling body.

He takes a few deep breaths, watching the blood pour across the dirt in a way he’s never seen before.  He’s never watched anyone die like this.  He’s never made someone die like this.

All life is sacred, he was told.  All life was to be protected, cared for.  That’s why he was vegetarian.  That’s why he was a monk.  He should feel something, staring at the dead body before him.  He should be devastated by his actions.  He should be horrified.

He should care, but the demon was killing this town.  All life cannot be sacred when one life takes so many.  And, besides that, he needs the power.  If this is how he is to gain it, so be it.

He pulls out the gem, fumbling a bit.  His hands are wet from the blood.  He presses the gem against the demon’s body and waits.

Sure enough, energy flows into it.  The gem warms in his grip, and Tang swears he can hear a rattling scream before the gem begins to glow pink.  Reaching towards red, but not quite there.   

He holds the gem up in the moonlight, watching the light filter though it.  It’s too clear, still.  Once it’s near opaque-that’s when it’s ready.

“Look on the bright side,” he says to the body, though his voice is hoarse.  His throat is sure to bruise, and it makes it a little difficult to speak.  “Now that you aren’t murdering families in the night, maybe you’ll be of use.”

He pockets the gem, and after stealing some hanging clothes from the village—he feels little remorse, considering he saved the town—leaves the body to rot.

He washes himself off, burns his bloody clothing.  He’ll have to be smarter, he thinks, about how he kills.  Clothes are not easy to come by, and Tang doesn’t enjoy the idea of taking new clothes every time he kills a demon.  Far too much work, honestly.

He cleans off his knife once the rest of him is free of blood, staring at his reflection in the water.  The knife glimmers in the daylight.  The gemstone weighs heavy in his pocket.

He travels on the words of humans towards demons, flitting through the towns of the former and murdering the latter, and finds it a little isolating that he sees himself as neither.

The isolation is nothing new, though.  Tang has always been alone.

It’s after the sixth demon he kills that the gem starts to glow with promise, rattling in his grip as it begs for an outlet.  One powerful demon would have brought it to this point easily, but while Tang is no longer mortal, he is still terribly human, which means he is terribly weak.  He has to find the scraps of the demon world, those so weak they spend their days with mortals, hiding amongst them while trying to live a normal life.  He finds them using sigils that allow him to follow their trails like a scent, and he is silent as the grave in the night, knife steady in hand.

He’s gotten rather proficient with a knife, but he hates using it.  Too messy, too close, too personal.  He’ll find something more suitable later.

For now, there’s the matter of making sure the power he won (stole is such a dirty word, and is it really stealing if he beat the demon fair and square?) stays with him.  Consulting the book he took from the library, he knows he needs to establish a physical connection to it. 

That requires effort.  But Tang is nothing if not stubborn enough to make it work.

That night, he takes off his shirt and folds it carefully, setting it down beside him.  He places the gem on top of the cloth, and then uses his finger to trace the line where he needs to make the incision.  

He grabs the knife and follows his finger’s line down the center of his chest with the tip of the blade.  

Up and down, up and down.  

It starts to burn.  He trembles.  

It stings, aches, sharp and raw, and the knife slips from his fingers.

It drops, he presses a shaking hand to the wound.

Gasping for air, he coughs on agony.  Chokes on it as he wrestles with the pain of the action.  The urge to heave makes him shudder.

He isn’t unused to pain. He’d slipped a few times, cut his fingers while preparing dinner with Bajie.  The bruises on his neck took weeks to heal and asphyxiation burned.

But nothing like this.  Carving flesh, your own flesh, and having to continue regardless of every logical, emotional, and primal part of yourself screaming at you to stop is a challenge Tang didn’t think would be so hard to undertake.

Not for the faint of heart, the book said.  

His is already shattered, isn’t it?  What’s another break?

He takes a piece of wet cloth and wipes away the excess, patching up his failed attempt and making sure everything is clear.  He cleans off the knife, and takes a deep breath.

He raises the blade to right beneath his chest, closer to it than his stomach but still enough below that it isn’t exactly where his heart resides.  He hisses a breath in through his teeth as he sinks the blade in again.

Up and down, slowly pushing in deeper and deeper until the blade presses into flesh.

Up and down, like cutting vegetables, steady.

Up and down, deeper with each movement.

Blood wells up and pours down his chest as he slices deeper.  The stream buffers with every rise and fall of his chest as he takes deep breaths.

His hand shakes.  Pain is all he can think of and he pulls out the knife when he manages to make an incision a centimeter deep.  

Deep breaths.  Focus.

His teeth are clenched so tight they might shatter in his mouth, as he reaches over and grabs the gem.  He sets the knife aside and uses one finger to pull one side of the incision apart, creating more space.

His skin is clammy, sweat dripping down as he fights to keep himself from curling in on himself and screaming.

The blood pools down his legs, dripping toward the ground.

The gem sits comfortably in his palm, as he drags his tired limb up to press the stone into the newly made space.  His fingers are slick with blood, fumbling and terribly unsteady, as he forces the gem in deeper, until it pushes apart his flesh even more.

The sound is wet and sticky, as if his flesh were overwatered rice.  He swallows back nausea at the thought.  His breaths are haggar pants, wheezing gasps as his lungs beg for air below the lump of pain that tightens his throat.

The power hums, as he presses a flat palm against his chest, holding the gem in.  It pulses once, twice.

And then everything pitches into white hot agony.  Tang screams.

White becomes red in his vision as power surges through his core, the smell of burnt meat rising up to his nose as the gem clings to his flesh and fuses with it.  He can feel it touch bone, pressing against it.  He can feel veins crawling beneath his skin like worms, forcing their way into him.  

He curls in on himself, holding himself up by his forearms trembling against the ground, as something inhuman breaks through any barriers Tang once had and makes a home in his center.

It feels like hours.  Like centuries, even, as he twitches uncontrollably with every spark of energy that courses through him.  He coughs, and blood splatters onto his knees and onto the ground.  He spits a few times, to get the rest of it out of his mouth.  The metallic, bittersweet taste lingers on his tongue.

He swallows the urge to vomit up the meager meal he had a few hours earlier and breathes hard through mouth.

And then, as quickly as the pain comes, it vanishes.  Warmth spreads through his being, a soothing balm against the agony that threatened to pull him under.  Skin and flesh knit itself back together, even his first attempt healed within moments.  Where there was once pain there’s adrenaline

Tang pushes himself up and wipes his mouth.  A flash has him staring at his palm in surprise.

Crackling red energy twirls around his fingertips.  It bathes his skin in warm light, and when he clenches his fist and opens it again the power settles in his palm like a flame. Swaying with the wind, it moves in time with each breath.

His eyes glow with promise, as power surges through him.  He throws his arm out towards the firewood and the red energy crashes against the wood, splintering it and creating a blaze that shoots up tall, the flame rising up towards the treetops before it settles.  

He lets out a half hysterical laugh, a hand still against his chest.  He traces the veins that pulse outward, bright red, and imagines just how powerful he’ll be with more than six demons, more than ten, more than a hundred even.  It doesn’t matter how much it’ll take, he’ll make it happen.

“Just you wait, Bajie,” he whispers, grinning, imagining warm blue eyes, imagining the room they shared, imagining a new one.

The journal, the speech, it sits in the forefront of his mind.  He hasn’t had a chance to give either, yet, but that’ll change.  It’s only a matter of time.

“I’ll catch up to you soon.”

#kitkat1003 #dadswap au #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #monkie kid tang #monkie kid pigsy #gore #blood

[partlystiles]

Two Birds - Inej Ghafa

Two Birds - Inej Ghafa

Part 2 | Part 3

pairing; Inej Ghafa x gn!reader

summary: Tracking down the conductor was the reader’s hardest job, the easiest bit was to use him to help them cross the fold to the Little Palace where they could see if there really was a Sun Summoner or not. Someone gets in their way.

word count: 1959

warning: fighting, mention of blood, cursing

———————————————————————

It was a dark night, the sun had set over Ketterdam and the streets were empty. Well, apart from the drunken stragglers who were stumbling around aimlessly and oblivious to my stealthy figure perched on the top of a rooftop. They sing drunkenly, laughed with each other as they crossed from one bar to the next, ignoring the loud racket they were making that could be a disturbance to the building complex I was sat opposite if they weren’t complaining, why should I?

The Conductor lived in that building. He was the one man, through lots of research and hard work, that could get me across the Shadow Fold and over to East Ravka where I was determined to find out once and for all if Saints were real and if they were, why hadn’t they watched over me?

If they were real and they proved their power, then they I certainly had a bone to pick with this Sun Summoner that everyone had been raging about recently. Multiple letters had been sent to the palace before I reached out to do anything dastardly but I got no reply, so I asked around and this is where it lead me, to an odd bit of town just past West Stave.

I had been camped out here most of the night, good pulled up around my head and knives secured tightly on my belt. The Conductor’s apartment light had not been turned on for hours and the apartment was the only bit of information I had on him, no idea how he looked and no idea what his actual name was. Just a flicker of hope that a light would turn on seen.

And like a miracle had been performed, at that very moment, the light in the apartment turned on. My breath got caught in my throat very slightly as I saw the silhouette of a man go past his curtains. I stood from my crouching position with mustered up confidence and walked back slightly before turning to face the complex again and taking a running start, flipping off of the building I was previously stationed on and landing skilfully on top of the other one.

It’s tough to have so many talents.

I walked to the edge of the complex I was on now and tied the rope I had hanging on my belt to a rectangular chimney on top of the building. Once I was sure that the knot around the chimney was secure, I grasped the rope and skilfully slid down the side of the complex before stopping beside the Conductors window and using my built-up core strength to open the window slowly whilst still keeping a tight grip on the rope.

The apartment was basically empty, a couple of things cluttered about as well as the basic furniture of an apartment. I didn’t bother to shut the window as I knew it would be unnecessary noise to make, so instead I adjusted my mask again and whipped my knife out of the holster in my belt; I gripped it tight and slowly started to creep towards the rustling around the corner.

I pressed myself against the wall and peeked round as stealthily as possible, seeing the man bending over something and shifting through papers, I took my chance and rushed forward, grabbing him by the back of his blazer jacket and pulling him away from whatever he was doing. He took in a small, surprised intake of breath and I managed to hold him back strongly whilst putting my knife to his throat.

“Tell me how to get across The Fold or I think you know what might happen.”

Before he could reply, another hard force had pushed me away from him and hit me back against the wall. A shiver of shock washed over me as I hit the wall but I quickly recomposed myself and let out a growl-like sound out of anger and charged back at this other person who was now with the Conductor and holding another knife to his throat.

They were knocked back off of their feet as I crashed into them but then they just hit me off of them again, gripping their knife tightly as they slashes it in my direction when standing  up off of the floor. I dodged it before slashing my knife too with a small grunt, they dodged it once more and when they went to push me, I ducked under their arms and whipped my head back around.

With one twirl and throw of a knife, my silver blade flew across the room and cut the other assassin’s cheek slightly. They gasped and raised a hand to their cheek, pulling their fingers back and seeing the crimson liquid before they looked back at me angrily and ran forward, pushing my shoulders until I was pressed into a wall with them in front of me. And suddenly I became aware of who I was fighting and my eyes grew wide.

Inej Ghafa. The girl I met last year when on a long stakeout for my employer at the time, I had been spying on the people I needed to for at least a week when she joined me. I had almost killed her that day, neither of us knew the other would be there but one we got over a small spat like this one, we actually started to get along really well. We talked, we laughed, we shared moments with deep eye contact and we became great friends. I started to love the way she twirled her knives so skilfully in her hands, I started to love the amused smirk she would give when I made a bad joke and I started to love her small laugh and her beautiful dark brown eyes and her beautiful black hair.

Then one night of the stakeout, when Inej and I had fallen asleep next to each other after a long conversation through our different discoveries, I was woken by alarms. Inej had gone and one of the guards I had been studying the shifts of was approaching me and managed to get the upper hand with a gun to my head. I was kidnapped, tortured and the guards said they didn’t find anyone else except for me. She left me to go through all of that pain and it took me three months to escape with barely my life.

With all of that in mind, I pushed her away from me with an angry shout and moved away from her, across the room before pulling my mask down to show her just how angry I was. She froze slightly before pulling her own mask down too, there was just shock compared to my rage.

She said nothing, just stared. I looked at her and the longer I did, the more my anger increased. The Conductor just sat there, glancing in between us and not even trying to run from the crazy assassins who had just intruded on his privacy. My knuckles turned white from under my gloves, I was sure. 

“Two birds with one stone.” I smirked through trembling anger and twirled my knife before charging towards a still shocked Inej but something hit me down to the floor before I could catch her and I fell backwards, groaning.

Sitting up as quickly as possible, I looked up to see two more boys had joined us. One in all black with a cane in his hand, looking down at me with an icy stare and one with slightly more beige colours and a small grin on his face. Inej stood by their side, still with shock.

“Hello.” The one in the beige smirked, reaching into his holster and twirling out a gun, pointing it down at me.

“Jesper, no.” Inej discouraged, pushing the gun down with a frantic look in her eyes as she stared down at me, looking apologetic. If anything it made me more angry and the fluttering feeling I got in my stomach at the sight of her eyes had my mouth twisting into an outraged grimace.

“You know them?” The one in black asked quietly, glancing to Inej as she reprieved from Jesper who holstered his gun back in his belt. 

“Course she does.” I answered him myself, spitting it out with so much fury as all three looked down at me, Jesper smirked slighty, the one in black raised his eyebrows and Inej frowned. “And I know her, the backstabbing bitch.”

She deflated slightly, hurt but I didn’t care. The one in black’s jaw twitched slightly and his grip tightened on the cane he was holding before he lifted it slightly, Inej shook her head and squeezed her way into the middle of the one in black and myself, Jesper had walked over to the Conductor and was making sure he didn’t run at the distraction.

“They’re not a threat, Kaz.” Inej soothed and I scoffed, her head snapping back to face me and the small cut produced a little bit more blood as it trickled slightly down her cheek.

“Tell that to the cut on your cheek.” I told her, shaking slightly as my lip trembled in anger. “And tell that to the people I escaped after months of torture because of you, you traitor. I was in that position because of you and the Saints you told me about...yeah, they didn’t help me.”

“I’m sorry.” She apologised and turned to fully face me, growing tears in those beautiful eyes just as they did in mine. “I’m really sorry, Y/N, I had to. You don’t understand.”

“No, I think I understand perfectly.” I seethed and pushed myself up off of the floor before grabbing my knife that I had dropped. “You found other people to work with, after all the promises...all the conversations...all the-” I cut myself off, I couldn’t bare to say it.

Instead I got up and pushed past Inej roughly, on purpose of course, but I walked my way over to the conductor that Jesper was sat near. I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him towards me as Jesper protested slightly but I already had my knife, coated with a bit of Inej’s blood, against the Conductors neck.

“The Fold.” I repeated firmly. “How do I get over it?”

“If you all need to get across the fold...” The Conductor started to speak rather calmly and Inej faced Kaz in a little bit of shock, he waved her off slightly and looked at the Conductor that I had in my grip again. “I’m going to have to take you all together.”

I snapped my head around to stare angrily at Inej who stared at me back and once again my stomach fluttered at those brown eyes but my eyes were glaring at her. My hand let go of the Conductor and I stepped back as Kaz limped forwards with his cane towards the man, beginning to talk but all I could feel was Inej’s shadow next to mine.

“Y/N.” She said softly and I shook my head, subtly but she definitely saw it. I moved away from her and to the other side of the Conductor, closer to Jesper who glanced betwen us both.

I didn’t want to spend any more time with Inej and her new friends for longer than I had to but I also had to get across the Fold and although I’ll never admit it to anyone, especially not her, I was so determined to go through this journey because it was Inej in the first place that told me about the Saints. She lit the flicker of hope within me and I didn’t want that extinguished just yet.

#inej ghafa imagine #inej ghafa #inej x reader #inej my beloved #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #six of crows #the conductor

[plus-size-reader]

Out of His Mind

Henry Bowers x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1669 words

Warnings: language?

Summary: Henry has a crush. 

——————————————————————————————————

It should have come as no surprise to anyone that you were the way you were.

After all, living with Patrick your whole life meant that you figured it out or he would have probably smothered you with a pillow by now. It was no secret that Patrick was standoffish and violent, everyone in all of Derry knew that.

What they didn’t know was that he, in no way, rivalled your hatred of the entirety of the human race.

The two of you were clearly related through that alone, though that was about as far as the similarity went.

Where Patrick was a textbook psychopath, deriving joy from any form of suffering, you didn’t seem to find it in anything. You were just angry all the time.

As best he could tell, you always had a disgusted grimace on your beautiful face, keeping to yourself whenever possible, unless you had some venom to spit in Henry’s direction.

...And for whatever reason, you had him all twisted up inside.

It didn’t make any sense, seeing as Henry had never felt that way about anyone but whenever he was around you, he felt ill, in the best way.

It was like a spell had been cast on him, and it made him even more dumb than before. The worst part of all though, was that you somehow remained absolutely blind to it.

That, or you didn’t care.

For the longest time, he was sure that you hated him and maybe you still did. In any case, nothing could keep his stomach from doing cartwheels whenever you were together.

Together being a term used lightly.

Really, you only ever spent time with the ‘Bowers gang’ when you absolutely had to but that was more than enough for Henry to be sure.

There was just something about you.

...And he was determined to figure out what it was.

Today, Patrick offered to have the guys come over after school, suggesting they fuck around at the quarry for a while before hitting the town. Your parents weren’t going to be home, after all, so they agreed.

Which meant that as soon as Henry and the others entered your house, you knew about it. No one else had a key to the side door of the garage.

“What are you losers doing here?” you groaned, rolling your eyes from where you were sitting on the couch, watching bored as Belch chucked something at Vic, narrowly missing his head.

It brought a small smile to your face, which you were quick to force back down. Perhaps if it had actually met its target, you would have laughed.

Luckily, Belch’s aim was about as good as his grade in chemistry. “We thought we’d come spend time with you. s’that okay?” Henry started, noticing the way your eyes lingered on his for only a moment before you looked away.

You didn’t even bother to answer him, though you didn’t have much of a chance anyway before Patrick swung around the corner and lobed a coke can at your head.

“We’re going to the quarry, you wanna come or is that stick lodged too far up your ass?” he cackled, not even seeming to care one bit that the can could have burst all over the place.

Though, to be fair, you cared about as much when you tossed it right back at him, hitting the wall just behind him.

“You’re a fucker, Pat!” you growled, that mischievous glint in your eyes making it hard to tell if you were really upset with him or not.

It wasn’t until you stood from where you’d been sitting that it registered to Henry that you could potentially be coming with them. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but for some reason, it made his palms sweat.

You hadn’t come with them to the quarry for quite some time, and the five of you weren’t kids anymore.

“Let’s go. I’ll leave all your asses here” you barked, having apparently decided you’d be going before heading out the door, not bothering to wait for any of them.

Without missing a beat, all four boys followed, leaving Henry to bring up the back, his hands feverishly wiping at his jeans.

He tried to convince himself that this wasn’t going to be that big of a deal, and that there was no reason he should be nervous, but that wasn’t doing him much good.

Really, the more he tried to stop thinking about you, the more his mind snapped right back to you, sitting in the backseat.

Henry was trying his best to be casual in his admiration, watching in the right side mirror as you fiddled mindlessly with the fraying knees of Vic’s jean but if he wasn’t careful, he was going to get caught.

Honestly, Belch had already taken note of the way Henry studied you but chose to keep it to himself.

Pointing out something like that would not only subject him to Henry’s anger, but also yours and Patricks and that wasn’t something he was willing to deal with right now.

So, he turned up the music on the radio and kept driving down the road until he pulled up to the private confines of the woods around the quarry.

“Did you bring a bathing suit Squirt, or what?” Patrick asked, much too late to have actually been of help to anyone, going so far as to use that terrible nickname.

If looks could kill, he would have been dead already.

“No, I’m not stripping down in front of your pervy friends dipshit” you huffed, shooting Belch a wink from where he was looking at you from the rearview.

It was all in good fun of course, but mostly, it was just payback for Patrick being Patrick.

“Yeah right, like any of these guys would wanna touch you with a ten foot pole” your brother jabbed, your full on sibling bickering filling the backseat in a matter of minutes.

Really, it was just a number of thinly veiled threats and insulting one another's mother even though she was the same woman. Neither of you cared for technicalities.

Patrick was a bitch and you only wanted to make sure he knew that about himself.

~

That was all that happened from the time Belch parked the trans am to the time when Patrick and the others were all diving off that cliff into the water below.

You chose to remain perched on a rock, letting what little sun you could tolerate to bathe your skin. It wasn’t until you heard a twig snap behind you that you perked up, taking notice to the fact that someone was clearly out here. As best you knew, the guys were still in the lake.

Still, you wouldn’t have put it past your shithead brother to try and toss you over the side while you were too relaxed to notice.

Though, when you actually turned around, it wasn’t Patrick standing where the sound had come from. It was Henry.

“What are you doing? Sneaking around like a creeper” you asked, rolling your eyes before leaning back down against the rocks. You would never admit it, but you were most comfortable around Henry.

He was a no shit kind of guy, which you could respect, but he wasn’t downright vile like your hellspawn sibling was. He was a good middle ground and you could respect that.

Not that you wanted him watching you from the woods in any case.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Henry started, watching you crack one eye open slightly to look at him, silently prompting him to continue.

You had never had patience for idle small talk. If he had something to say, he could do so without wasting precious seconds of your life.

“Without the other guys” he clarified, briefly waiting for you to point out that it was a given before punching him so hard in the bicep with those rings you wore that he’d have to leave.

...But that never came.

You just sat there, bathing in the sun like a cold blooded predator, waiting for him to get on with it.

Henry had to swallow thickly before speaking, taking in how peaceful and gentle you looked when you were relaxed. He assumed it was a Hockstetter thing, because Pat damn near slept like a baby.

The whole lot of you were sneaky bastards though, so he didn’t trust it for a second.

“You wanna see a movie sometime? Or get a burger? Just us” he asked, earning a snort from you immediately though you stopped laughing as soon as you saw him.

The sight you opened your eyes to was almost alarming.

Henry, shit-talking, knife slinging Henry Bowers, looked like a scared little puppy. You had never seen him anxious or worried before but even you didn’t have it in your heart to tease him.

He was being serious.

“Like a date?” you clarified, genuinely confused for a second. Why would Henry want to go out with you? By all accounts, you were personality deficient, and that was a badge of honor you wore proudly.

...But no one in their right mind would sign up for that willingly.

Maybe that was the whole point though, maybe that was what it was about Henry that you found so strangely endearing. He was out of his damn mind.

When he nodded, you made up your mind.

He was absolutely deranged, fully crazy, but you were just about the same. “Sure, I’ll let you buy me a milkshake some time” you shrugged, closing your eyes again as your way of shooing him away.

You both knew that if he didn’t get back to his friends, they’d come looking for him and whatever he had going on, that wasn’t a good look.

Not that he cared right now.

Henry got the date, and you didn’t even spit on him when he asked. By all accounts, that was a success in his mind.

#henry bowers #henry bowers x reader #henry bowers x ps reader #henry bowers x plus size reader #henry bowers imagine #it #it x ps reader #it x plus size reader #it imagine #it 2017 x reader #it 2017 #it 2017 x ps reader #it 2017 x plus size reader #it 2017 imagine #it 2019 #it 2019 x reader #it 2019 x ps reader #it 2019 x plus size reader #it 2019 imagine #bowers gang x reader #bowers gang #bowers gang x ps reader #bowers gang x plus size reader #bowers gang imagine

[kanerallels]

Ok ok eeee!!! I'm so excited! Okay, how about a Kanera princess and the frog au?! I was thinking the scene where they turn into frogs (or should it be lothcats?) Aka when she has to kiss him and then the line "how did I get down here, and how did you get all the way up there?" Until they have to fly away on ballons at the party? (Maybe Chopper can be the dog and Hera's just like "My dog just talked?!") Lol I'm so excited cause I know how good you are at AUs, congrats on 111!!😍

Heck yes my favorite Disney movie let's GO!!!!

Pairing: Hera Syndulla/Kanan Jarrus

Word Count: TBD, I'm on mobile

Tags/Warnings: G (for green. It's the green, it's the green, it's the green that Kanan needs...)

In the dressing room of her best friend’s bedroom, Hera changed out of her stained brown dress and slipped into the shimmering dark blue dress Omega had provided her with. In the other room, she could hear Omega chattering excitedly about the charming Jedi who’d shown up-- Kanan Jarrus, the apprentice of the deeply respected Depa Billaba. He’d swept Omega off her feet almost immediately, although from what Hera had heard, the young man had quite the reputation for such things.

Hera couldn’t focus on her friend’s words, though. In her mind, she could only replay the moment when she’d heard that she’d been outbid for the ship she was trying to buy. With it, she’d be free, to explore the galaxy by herself, not dependent on anyone.

But tonight, she’d gotten the news from the salesman himself-- they’d handed it off to someone with more money. She could still hear the man’s condescending words echoing in her ears-- a little woman of your… well, species, would have had her hands full trying to run a ship on her own. You’re best where you’re at.

Best where I’m at? Hera thought, frustration boiling through her veins. Working two jobs, sacrificing any semblance of fun or enjoyment just so she could save enough, scrimping and saving and making so many hard choices, and just when she thought she’d had a chance? It was all gone.

She stepped into the main bedroom as Omega was saying, “You know, I was starting to think that wishing on stars was just for babies, and crazy people.” She paused as Hera came into view, and a smile crossed her face. “Well, aren’t you just as pretty as a magnolia in May?” Taking a silver-and-blue headpiece from the chest of drawers in front of her, she brought it over and placed it on Hera’s head, saying, “Seems like only yesterday we were younger, dreaming our fairy tale dreams-- and tonight, they’re both coming true!”

Hera couldn’t bring herself to correct her friend, and Omega was so excited she didn’t even notice Hera’s silent demeanor. It was only seconds later that she swept back out into the party, leaving Hera alone in her room.

Reaching into the pocket of her stained dress, she pulled out the flimsi advertisement for a VCX-100 ship she’d found when she was little. Her mother had always encouraged her in this dream-- her father was a little more skeptical. Still, the memory of Eleni Syndulla holding her close as she excitedly talked about the ship she’d own one day was enough to make tears prickle in Hera’s eyes.

Moving out onto the balcony, she stared out at the Rylothian landscape, determined not to cry. But she’d been so close. So kriffing close, and she’d lost it all again. It was hard to imagine attempting this again, after how hard she’d work the first time-- and now she had to start over?

Releasing a shaky sigh, Hera blinked away her tears and lifted her gaze up to the sky. Her eyes landed on one of the stars-- the brightest one, that her mother had always told her and Omega stories about when they were little. A star you could make a wish upon, and it would always come true.

It was just a story for children. But in her current emotional state, Hera was about ready to believe anything.

Her gaze darted around the balcony. Finding it empty, Hera muttered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” All the same, she lifted her gaze to the star and internally made her wish. Please. Please.

She closed her eyes for just a moment, then opened them, knowing nothing had changed. Wishes only came true in stories. Hard work was the only thing that would ever get her anywhere.

As it turned out, something actually had changed. Hera’s gaze drifted to the left, and her eyes went wide at the sight of a frog perched there. She wasn’t exactly a fan of frogs, if she was being honest, although she had nothing personal against them.

Remembering one of the other stories her mother had told her and Omega, a small smile tugged at Hera’s lips. “So what now?” she said, directing the comment at the frog. “I suppose you want a kiss?”

“I’m not about to say no to it,” the frog said with a smirk.

Hera wasn’t exactly proud of how she reacted next. But coming face to face with a frog that sounded like a grown man who thought he was more charming than he actually was? That was too much for her. Letting out the closest sound to a scream she’d made in years, she stumbled backwards and crashed into a shelf full of Omega’s things.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” the frog said, hastily hopping towards her. “I didn’t mean to startle you--”

He cut himself off with a yelp as he leapt to avoid a book from Omega’s shelf. And then a holodisk. The tooka doll Hera threw actually hit him, although it didn’t make much of a difference. Leaning his forearms on it, he remarked, “You’ve got a strong arm, Princess.”

Hera responded by grabbing the vibroblade Omega’s brothers had given her, and the frog’s eyes widened. “Please don’t--”

He dove out of the way just in time as the knife embedded itself point first in the wooden floor, and jumped up on top of the chest of drawers. “Okay, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kanan Jarrus, Jedi--”

Hera slammed a cup she’d found over him, neatly trapping him. “--Knight,” he finished. “What the kriff?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hera snapped. “How would you like me to react to a talking frog??” And then his words caught up with her. “Wait. Jedi Knight? If you’re the Jedi Knight, who’s that down there charming Omega?” she demanded, releasing the cup without thinking.

Kanan immediately shoved the cup off of him with a grunt, letting it roll free. “How would I know?” he pointed out. “All I know is one minute, I’m a dashing Jedi Knight, handsome, excellent dancer, I might add--” Hera rolled her eyes extensively-- “and then I’m stuck with these.” He thrust one webbed foot in her direction, wobbling towards her dangerously, and Hera grabbed a book nearby in defense.

“Wait!” Kanan all but shouted, his eyes going wide. “Wait, wait-- I know that story! The one with the frog who used to be a prince-- what’s it called…?”

“‘The Frog Prince’?” Hera deadpanned.

“Exactly!” Kanan waved for her to hand over the book, almost toppling over under the weight. He managed to get it settled against the mirror, and flipped it open. “I used to hear this story all the time in the Creche. This-- this is it! This is the solution!” Turning towards Hera, he said, “You-- must kiss me.”

“Excuse me??”

Moving to his feet, Kanan directed her a charming grin that probably worked on most women when they were not incredibly irritated by him, and he was also not a frog. “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it. All women do.”

“That’s revolting,” Hera told him flatly.

“I doubt you’ll be saying that soon,” Kanan said, his grin widening as he leaned forward-- and then the sac under expanded out, and Hera jerked back in alarm. “That’s new,” he assured her.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Hera said, which was only mostly a lie, “I wish I could help you. But I don’t kiss frogs, and I certainly won’t kiss you.”

“Wha-- you literally asked me back on the balcony!” Kanan protested, the alarm on his face growing.

“It was sarcasm!” Hera snapped. “And I certainly didn’t expect you to answer. There’s absolutely no way I’m kissing you.”

“Come on-- look, not only am I incredibly good-looking, but I’m with the Jedi Order,” Kanan pointed out. “I can make sure you’re rewarded handsomely for this. Surely there’s gotta be something you want, some wish we could grant?”

Despite herself, Hera’s eyes flicked to the flimsi poster for the VCX-100 that had gone flying across the room in the kerfuffle. But this was stupid. It was just a ship, she didn’t need it that badly.

Yet even as she thought the words, she knew it wasn’t true. It was more than a ship for her, it was freedom. It was a dream she’d had for as long as she could remember. And if there was a way to attain it…

“Just one kiss?” she asked, wavering.

“Unless you beg for more,” Kanan said, smirking.

That decided it. If it was only to get rid of this pain in the neck, Hera would do it. “Deal,” she said, nodding.

The frog instantly puckered his lips, closing his eyes, and Hera reeled backwards. It was just… gross. The idea of pressing her lips against those of a decidedly slimy looking--

She pushed that thought out of her mind, replaced it with the image of the VCX she’d own after this, and lunged forward to kiss the frog.

The moment her lips met his, greenish light flashed over them, and Hera felt it engulf her. Everything went black.

She didn’t know how long later her eyes slid open, but when they did, she was enveloped with some kind of blue fabric. Shoving it off of her, she looked up and saw a wide-eyed Kanan staring down at her. Except he was still a frog.

“.......kriff,” he whispered.

Uncomprehending, Hera blinked hard. “You look remarkably like a frog. Still. Aren’t you supposed to be handsome? But why are you up there? And what am I doing down here, with all this--”

She glanced down at the pool of fabric, seeing the green of her skin against it. But there was something different about it. Something off with the texture and the feeling of it.

Also, she was missing a finger.

Hera jerked to the side and caught sight of herself in a mirror. The face of a frog stared back, and she let out an undignified shriek. “What--” With a leap that was entirely instinct, she flew to the top of the dresser and crashed into Kanan, bowling him over. “What did you do to me?” she demanded, staggering to her feet.

“Easy-- don’t panic,” Kanan attempted to calm her. “It’s not so bad.”

“YOU TURNED ME INTO A FROG! WHAT PART OF THAT ISN’T BAD? I’M COVERED IN SLIME!”

Catching hold of her hand, Kanan said soothingly, “No, no-- it’s not slime. You’re secreting mucus.”

That was the last straw for Hera. She narrowed her eyes in a death glare at Kanan, and his eyes went wide just as she tackled him across the room. They crashed into a cushioned stool, bouncing up, slamming against a shelf, then down again and landing on a precariously balanced sniper rifle of Omega’s. Before Hera could act on the many threats she had boiling in her head, a book toppled off the shelf and landed on one end of the rifle, catapulting both her and Kanan out of the room, over the balcony and into the party below.

They plummeted towards the band below, landing on the drums. The drummer, a big male Togruta, instantly went after them with his drumsticks as they both dove away from him and attempted to make a break for it.

Hera heard the other band members start a faster song to match the renewed tempo as she and Kanan went flying through the air and landed on the nearest person. Unfortunately, it happened to be Omega. And it was less landing then falling down the back of her dress.

She started hopping around frantically with yelps of shock. As they were jolted around, Kanan remarked, “You know, for a costume ball, you’d think they’d be a little more welcoming!”

“This is not the time for jokes,” Hera snarled.

As Omega toppled over, the two of them managed to escape out of her voluminous hoop skirt, just in time to hear Hunter, Omega’s father figure/brother, shout, “CHOPPER! GET THE FROGS!”

Karabast. Hera caught sight of Chopper-- the tame vornskr that Hera had befriended-- jerk his head up, then bolt towards them. Next to her, Kanan grabbed her hand. “Run!”

As he leapt from the skirt to the nearby buffet table, flying past the shocked Kanan-lookalike, Hera snapped, “I can’t run, I’m a frog, thanks to you!”

“Then hop!” They landed on the buffet table, Hera almost slipping off the edge. Kanan hauled her up quickly and the two of them started hopping frantically down the table as Chopper came flying after them, scrabbling at the tablecloth. “Down!” Kanan shouted. “Down, you kriffing monster dog!”

Chopper did not listen, partially because he was not a dog, and partially because he was Chopper. Kanan and Hera kept going-- straight towards a pair of guests. One of them brandished a fake sword that looked a little too sharp, and swung at them viciously. At the exact same time, the man next to him, wearing a boga hat, ducked, and the sword severed the top of the hat. The hat dropped on top of Kanan and Hera, effectively covering their vision.

The next few minutes were a haze of chaos-- shouting and yelling and a lot of running. Finally, the boga hat came off of them, and both Kanan and Hera went flying forward, tangling in the strings of a bundle of balloons.

Hera frantically tried to disentangle herself as she spotted Chopper still charging towards them. “Wait! Chopper!” she shouted.

Kanan had other ideas. Grabbing the string of balloons, he jerked them free. “Going up!”

As the balloons zipped up into the air, Chopper lunged for them, and Hera shouted, “Chopper, it’s me, Hera!”

“Hera?” the vornskr gasped.

Before Hera could react to that, Chopper plummeted back to the ground, and they continued upwards.

“Chopper just talked,” Hera managed as Kanan grabbed her by the hand, pulling her up so she could grab onto some of the balloons. “The vornskr talked.”

His voice irritated, Kanan said, “You know, if you’re going to let every little thing bother you, this is going to be an even longer night!”

As they flew away from the party, Hera shot Kanan an unseen glare. The sooner she got away from this pain in the neck, the better. She had a bad feeling that wasn’t going to go as well as she hoped, though.

#swr #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #kanera #star wars #c1 10p #the princess and the frog au #the princess and the frog #swr au #111 followers celebration #it was dope. the end

[lover-of-trash-and-people]

shadow and bone rewatch s1e6 while drinking mid-range scotch

I wish I have a face that is as unlined and pretty as Ben Barnes' when I'm 39

Arken you dirty dirty liar

the face Alek is making at his lies that he knows are lies firstly because he knows the art of lying so well and also because he can read people very well

okay Ivan is kind of a bad bitch with his smirk at Arken's lies

alek's eyes narrowing and his little smile when Arken says 'im an entertainer' bitch I love this show

*grabs hand, pulls up sleeve, and discovers Arken's hand is full of marks indicating successful passages through the fold* 'well, that is certainly entertaining' I love this man with all my heart

him screaming is so fucking hot, is that weird for me to say

Nina being the Darkling's spy is quite interesting

Ben giving the Darkling crazy eyes when Arken owns up to his guilt is so cool

also wtf is Arken a fool trying to negotiate with possibly the strongest man in the world

kind of loved the darkness literally eating him

also love Alina learning to use her powers better when she is alone than when she is with anyone else, wish we got to see the cut in this season as per the books, ah can't have everything I guess

the camera pan to Jesper's gun at his side, amazing

god Jessie is literally so beautiful I need to see her bring Alina to the peak of her power so bad

netflix you better renew this series to let the plot run to its completion

HOW THE FUCK DID THEY CAST THE CROWS SO PERFECTLY

INEJ FUCKING TREMBLING JUST THE TINIEST BIT AS SHE BOWS SLIGHTLY TO ALINA SGSHSBSJJSJSSJ MY TWO QUEENS

'And where is my Summoner?' my little Darklina heart ouchie I really wish you hadn't used and manipulated her like this Alek it was incredibly fucked up especially considering you actually caught feelings

'Ivan and I won't fail you' oh Fedyor my baby, my angel, you don't deserve what is coming

Helnik literally recreating Titanic lmao stop this is a joke

I too would jump off the raft if I came to consciousness to see a gorgeous woman with magical powers with her hand on my back

omg but why is ryevost so pretty though

'I know exactly how she felt. The King's soldiers treated me the same way... I'm not myself today.' why must you do this to me, why must you fuel my darklina soulmates agenda idiocy

I don't quite think I have a problem with the Zoya Darkling relationship as much as I have a problem with the line they chose to reveal it to use with.

my drink's over and I don't know if I should have another, considering that it's 7 am

the tenderness with which he looks at Zoya and takes her hand and then when he says 'I shall relax when I have Alina' makes me believe more that the man that is reduced to tears time and again in front of Alina could in fact be the master manipulator I know him to be

god I can't wait for Zoya's character arc

'I speak six languages, it's part of my job' why is Nina literally the fucking coolest

Alina blinding the oprichniki was so hot, I can't wait to see more of her power and her ruthlessness

I know I've said it before but good god is Jessie Mei Li gorgeous

HER LITTLE SMILE AMONGST ALL THE PANIC AS SOON AS SHE SEES MAL, THE AUDACITY OF THIS SHOW TO MAKE ME FEEL THIS WAY

THE SCORE COMING IN AT THE RIGHT MOMENT, THEIR HANDS MEETING, HER SMILE AGAIN DHDHSBSNSNSNSNAN IM IN PAIN

REALLY?! YOU'RE GONNA GO DIRECTLY FROM MALINA TO HELNIK WITH NO CONCERN FOR MY HEART?

I simply cannot get over Calahan's accent lmao it's really funny

'im not afraid of you' he says to the insanely gorgeous girl with magic

HIM HANGING HIS HEAD IN DEFEAT TO INDICATE NINA HAS MADE VALID POINTS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I CAN'T BREATHE

'You're just a man. Like all the others.' she says and then forgets her train of thought looking at him as he strips. god I love this

not sleeping all night and then scotch is not a good idea, I think

'I promise not to ravish you' 'I hate the way you talk' her hand on his chest, his hand gripping hers, my fucking heart feels like it's about to explode

good god these shooting locations and sets are so beautiful

Alina throwing the flask at Mal and Mal going 'OI!' I fucking can't, I guess I am a

simp for childhood friends to lovers, give me more of that banter and childhood friend energy, I am thriving

wow it literally seems like they took book! Mal sl*tshaming book! Alina and made show! Alina sl*tshame show! Mal, hmm, interesting

'They would have split us up!' MAL'S LITTLE SMILE AT THIS, and the 'You wrote me letters?' Mal's nod, the Malina yearning stare, the Malina hug, 'thank you for finding me' 'always. I'll always find you.' NO MALINA YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND YOU HAVE MADE ME ABSOLUTELY FUCKING FERAL

I understand they had to split time between my ravkan babies and the crows and that is why there were several aspects that were sort of not reflected on enough but Alina's training at the Little Palace, Alina's cut, Mal's personality, a teensy bit of backstory for the crows, maybe one lockpicking scene from my boy Kaz

random note: we have far too many idols and paintings and pictures and whatnot of Hindu deities in our house apart from the specially designed temple (we are Hindus, so maybe it's not that weird but it's a little weird)

Kaz's cane is a literal star, it's so beautiful my heart wants to explode

'Why would Heleen get the Crow Club?' *literally fucking gets up and walks aways instead of answering the fucking question* I LITERALLY CAN'T BREATHE I'M LOSING MY MIND

'I know that voice' WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO MAKE ME FIGHT FOR PLATONIC SHIPS IN FANDOMS

'We won't starve' omg get you someone who packs food for you when you go on the run together hiding from your ex who wants to capture you and use your powers as a weapon against your consent

Mal looking surprised at her summoning sunlight, Alina looking cautiously at him waiting for him to disapprove or run for the hills in fear or smth like that, 'I'm sorry it took me this long to see you... But I see you now' my dumb little shipper trash heart ouch

they really said we're gonna feed you this part asian couple as the protagonists in this show in 2021 and guess what I'm eating it's really tasty I'm very satisfied as a south asian

NINA'S LITTLE SMILE WHEN MATTHIAS WAKES UP WITH HIS ARM AROUND HER

'I can feel how much you hate sleeping next to me' 👀👀👀 BITCH SAID IMMA SPILL THE TEA AND THEN SHE DID

it's 8 am and guess what I'm getting another drink my parents have c*vid and are in govt qu*r*ntine centres there is nobody to supervise or stop me

I too say 'Why do you have to say things like that?' to my pretty crush when she flirts with me

Nina smiling at Matthias bragging about his conservative ways is my aesthetic

'No, it's not natural for someone to be as stupid as he is tall and yet, oh, there you stand.' MY FUCKING QUEEN

Matthias laughing uncontrollably at Nina saying something which isn't even that funny is a whole ass vibe

Kaz Brekker saying 'The Black General' ooh fuck yeah

YESSSS STEP OUT OF THAT CARRIAGE ALL SEXY BLACK GENERAL

isn't alcohol supposed to like kill germs? well, the amount in my system definitely will

I love my crows so much (always but this time particularly for setting that alarm in the stolen carriage)

ooh Polina recognising Inej by the knife yesss let's go writers

this Ivan Jesper showdown is all I needed from life and yet did not know about

Ivan taking off his cloak was, um, sexier than I wanted it to be

I just realised how thirsty I am going to sound in this post

'Has no one told you that keftas are Fabrikator-made and resistant to bullets, hmm?' 'Oh, I do love a challenge' LITERALLY EVERYTHING

im sorry to be pointing out flaws in a perfect show and adaptation but the line delivery on 'You robbed me of my brother, now I'll rob you of your life' from Polina was kind of weak

'You're a-' *gets knocked out with the back of a gun* LMAO we love the hints

got excited at the prospect of kaz v. zoya until I realised they will not be letting the opportunity of kaz v. darkling pass up

my goodness is Amita Suman a splendid actress

I AM NOT KIDDING WHEN I TELL YOU I SQUEALED WHEN I SAW DARKLES EMERGE OUT OF THE SHADOWS IN FRONT OF MY BABY BOY KAZ

THERE BEING ACTUAL FEAR OR ATLEAST DOUBT ON KAZ'S FACE, THE LITTLE BACK STEPS AS

THE DARKLING WALKS TOWARDS HIM, AAAAH I CAN'T

THE DARKLING STOPPING AT KAZ SAYING 'SHE FLED ON HER OWN' AND THE HINT OF TEARS THAT WE SEE IN HIS EYES

'IT WAS PRETTY CLEAR SHE WASN'T INTERESTED IN BEING A CAPTIVE ANYMORE' YOU TELL HIM, KING

*ACTUAL FUCKING TEARS IN THE DARKLING'S EYES AS THE SHADOWS APPROACH*

NOT ME YOWLING LIKE A HYENA THAT THIS CHILD OUTSMARTED THE MOST POWERFUL MAN IN EXISTENCE WITH A FAKE MAGIC TRICK

'Are you sure you added enough cloves?' literally warranting a wide ass smile from my queen Alina making my entire fucking day

for some reason, no matter how much I push it from my mind, Ben Barnes dressed up as the Darkling, dancing to 'push it' keeps coming to mind, it's absolutely ridiculous

I got somehow distracted with interviews but good things came out of that as it gave my body the time for the booze to kick in

and I would just like to say that I love Leigh for all she has given me

Alina is so fucking compassionate, I have no much love for her. I can feel her guilt and her sorrow as Mal talks of Mikhail and Dubrov

don't particularly like how the stag plotline is woven in, could have been executed better

'You're afraid you might start to like me?' *flaps furs like a bird's wings in frustration*

'I DO like you' my fucking heart you idiots

the sexual tension is so palpable and the moment is so intimate I simply cannot

OMG SHE FUCKING FELL

that moment where you think he might let her fall despite having read the books and he doesn't and he tells her his name I- <3

YOU DARE TRANSITION FROM A HELNIK SCENE TO A KANEJ SCENE YOU REALLY HAVE NO MERCY FOR MY HEART HUH

people have talked about this endlessly but Freddie's little jaw tic after he says Inej because Inej is wounded and he can't physically bring himself to help her I fucking cannot

THE MUSIC PICKING UP AS KAZ LOOKS TO THE DARKLING'S CARRIAGE I CAN'T WITH THIS SHOW ANYMORE

and now for one of my favorite scenes in television and cinematic history, David Kostyk throwing a book at Jesper Fahey without even knowing who he is merely because he opens the door of his carriage and says hello to him before getting knocked out by Kaz Brekker while trying to run away

Immediately followed by another, the scene with David Kostyk raising his finger to put forward his point in front of the Darkling and the Darkling trying to let him know he doesn't have to before obliging is one of my favourite scenes in the world

also sir please stop being devastatingly attractive in your glorious appearance with your face and your black kefta and cloak because all that comes to mind is Ayesha Erotica's Emo Boy and I'm afraid that is terribly inappropriate.

'No, you look great.' *literally looks down from embarrassment or blushing* MALINA RIGHTS?

THE LOOK ON THE DARKLING'S FACE BEFORE HE SAYS 'NO ORDINARY TRACKER, NO ORDINARY GIRL' BITCH IM OUT OF BREATH

'ORPHANS OF KERAMZIN, REUNITED.' 'ADORABLE.' HE FUCKING SNEERED IRL I FUCKING CANNOT

GOD IT'S SO GOOD

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #netflix shadow and bone #six of crows #sab #soc #grishaverse spoilers #shadow and bone spoilers #netflix shadow and bone spoilers #six of crows spoilers #sab spoilers #soc spoilers #alina starkov #jessie mei li #malyen oretsev #archie renaux #malina #ivan #simon sears #arken visser #nina zenik #danielle galligan #jesper fahey #jesper llewellyn fahey #kit young #crows #netflix #inej ghafa #amita suman #the darkling

[3d-wifey]

Among Us AU (Students)

I'm picturing this as them being actual characters in the game, not them playing the game.

Let's get the colors out of the way first:

Kiri is red, Denki is yellow, Bakugou is orange, Mina is pink, Deku is dark green, Tsu is lime, Iida is dark blue, Todoroki is white, Ochako is brown, Mirio is cyan, Tamaki is black, and Shinsou is purple.

Best Imposters: Mirio, DEKU, Shinsou, Tamaki, and Bakugou

Best Crewmates: IIDA, Deku, Todoroki, Tsu

Iida is probably the fastest crewmate, so nobody bothers going after him.

Wears the safety mask.

He calls regular emergency meetings as "check-ups" and is very adamant about the buddy system.

Can be seen chopping the air whenever he "thinks" he saw someone venting and when he's arguing during discussions.

Usually takes charge during discussions and if he dies, then Mirio takes charge

You'll probably find him in security watching the cameras.

It's very obvious whenever he's the importer.

He literally never vents.

He sticks to snapping necks and then speeding off so fast you can't catch him on the cameras

But he always gives himself away by getting super defensive when anybody asks him a question

"Where were you, Iida?"

"My location during the murder is none of your concern. I don't have to tell you anything at all. In fact, you can come see me scan in Medbay. Actually, don't! You might be the impostor yourself, Midoriya! Trying to pull the wool over our eye–"

"Yeah, go ahead and vote him out. 😪"

Mina, Denki, and Eijiro all dance around Bakugou while he's doing his tasks like cheerleaders and it pisses him the hell off because he can't focus.

Kirishima picks up any babies or pets that were left behind, even if he was the imposter.

He wears the ninja headband because they look "manly".

He honestly hates being the imposter because he gets so stressed out.

Usually just sticks to sabotaging.

He's really reluctant to kill and when he does, it is super sloppy.

One of those alien imposters that eat the crewmates. 🥴

He doesn't really defend himself if the crew starts suspecting him tho.

"I'm sorry I killed you, Shoto. That was super unmanly. 😞"

Shoto's ghost: 😐

Speaking of Shoto, he very rarely does tasks.

The only reason he's a good crewmate is because he's so quiet, the imposter won't even notice he's in the same room when they vent or kill someone.

Wears nothing but his suit, but can be persuaded to wear the halo.

You'll probably find him just wandering around in the halls, so he's an easy kill.

He's one of those Chaotic Neutral characters that say you can vote them out if they're wrong.

"I think I saw Kaminari kill Midoriya...but I could be wrong. You guys can just vote me out if I'm wrong."

He and Deku are very good at doing double kills and then venting right after.

He kills with knives or by impaling and then just walks off because he forgets he can vent.

But, he's not a good imposter by himself because he's kinda forgetful and doesn't make good arguments for himself.

"Shoto's faking tasks."

"No, I'm not. 😐"

Kirishima, Ochako, and Tsu are really reluctant to vote anyone out.

Everyone hates when they're the last people left because they usually throw the entire game.

While Kirishima and Tsu could be persuaded with evidence, Ochako usually just skips.

"Do we really have to vote them out? I mean...do you actually have proof?"

"I literally saw them kill Tsu."

"I don't know. I'm just gonna skip."

Ochako has to snap people's necks because she's too poor to afford a gun 😔.

Ochako, Mirio, and Mina refuse to kill anyone with pets or babies. They're murderers, not monsters.

Ochako and Tsu wear matching pink flowers.

Bakugou is a terrible crewmate, merely because he throws wild accusations until they stick (mostly at Deku)

“Deku’s the imposter!”

“Bakugou...Deku’s dead this round. 👁👄👁”

He gets so mad anytime the crew wants to vote him out, even if he is the imposter.

"I think it was Bakugou."

"No, the hell it wASN'T!"

"You've just been a little sus, dude."

"I WAS DOING MY TASK THIS WHOLE TIME AND YOU PIECES OF SHIT THINK IT'S ME?!? ARE YOU DEADASS?!💥🖐🏻🤬"

"What are you getting so mad for? 👀"

"I'M "GETTING MAD" BECAUSE YOU BACK ALLEY RAT TURDS ARE BLAMING ME, KNOWING DAMN WELL YOU SAW ME DOING TASKS! I'M NOT THE-"

And he's a petty bitch so he never does his tasks as a ghost. He just grumbles and follows Kiri around.

Wears that backwards hat because he thinks it looks cool, but don't say anything about it or he will take it off.

Now, he's really in his element as the imposter.

🌠Gaslighting: the game🌠

Deku better hope they never get paired up together, because Bakugou will follow him around and report him as soon as he kills.

"Deku's the imposter. I caught his dumbass lacking."

"K-Kacchan? 🥺"

He prefers to work by himself, but he'll corporate with Kiri, Denki, or Mina.

Weapon of choice is a knife because it's hands-on and he really likes to...get into character.

Tsu and Mina are both imposter types that eat people.

They also have a ton of pets and babies with them at all times

Mina will never empty the garbage.

Ever.

She also wears those cute devil horns.

Tsu always does her tasks as a ghost and then hovers by the abandoned babies/pets.

"Has anybody seen Tsu?"

Tsu: 🐸❤👶🏽

She's also really good at telling when someone is lying, that's why she's one of the first killed.

Denki tries his best, but...

"Leave the electrical tasks to me!"

And then he comes back like: 👍🏻🥴👍🏻

Just completely fried.

He wears that posted note that says "Dum" because he thinks its "ironic"...nobody even bothers telling him it's not.

Really reluctant to kill, but he doesn't understand how to sabotage so it's his only option. He just uses a gun because it seems less personal.

"Sorry to do this to ya, dude. But you know how it goes. 🔫😗✌🏼"

Shinsou's power makes him win every game as an imposter. He's basically OP.

"Hey, Shinsou! Did you just vent?"

"Did you?"

"No–"

"Yeah, how bout you come jump on this knife 😼🔪"

Nobody ever sees him because he likes traveling through the vents and it's crazy because no one ever questions him either.

Sleeps in the vents.

He wears the red beanie.

He generally sticks to popping out of a vent, snapping necks, and going back into the vents.

Knows the vent system of every map like the back of his hand.

Sometimes he uses a knife if he's feeling ✨ᖴᗩᑎᑕY✨

A horrible crewmate.

He'll be sleeping in places he shouldn't be.

Like, he'll do some of his tasks, but he's not running to fix the O2 or the Reactor.

The alarms could be blaring and he'll be like:

"I'm sure somebody'll get that 😴."

He never brings anything to the discussion AT ALL.

He just votes with the majority, honestly.

He literally can not be found in the entire ship and you'll only see him at discussions, then he disappears like a shadow.

So, it's obvious that he rarely gets killed.

He only really pairs up with Deku (and he's usually the one that kills Shinsou)

Poor Tamaki.

He, like Denki, tries his best.

Please, God, don't leave him alone.

He tries to stay with Mirio or Kiri when doing tasks.

He wears that little green plant on his head 🥺.

The thought of there being a murderer around every corner stresses him the fuck out, so his hands are too shaky to do wires.

Doesn't like long tasks, they leave him too exposed.

If you think he's nervous during tasks, imagine him during discussions.

It's like doing back to back presentations on a topic you never researched.

He tries to be helpful by adding his two cents, but there are definitely some...big personalities in the group.

"I...think I s-saw orange vent."

"What the hell are you mumbling about?! Speak up, dammit!"

"N-nevermind, it's no use. 😞"

Now, he's surprisingly a really good imposter.

He's one of the few that nobody ever expects.

He works better with Mirio or Kirishima, and while he prefers to just sabotage, he isn't afraid to eat a bitch.

Tentacles come out of his stomach, so he's just waiting in decontamination like:

🧍🏻‍♂️🐙

You wouldn't think Mirio would be a good imposter, but that's EXACTLY what he wants you to think.

He's smarter than he let's on and he plays dumb to his advantage.

"Mirio, why didn't you go to reactor when the alarm went off?"

"I was looking for my buddy, Tamaki. And I got a bit lost."

"Why didn't you just use your map—"

"Heh, we should just skip, right? 😅👍🏻"

Uses his big boy muscles to snap necks and then self-reports.

Says a corny dad joke before he kills someone.

"Hey, What does a liar do after he dies?"

"Wha—"

"He lies still. Heh, get it? 👱🏻"

"😐"

"👱🏻🔪"

Wears a banana peel on his head and I feel like that needs no explanation.

He relies heavily on his quirk to move around as an imposter and a crewmate.

He just fucking pops out of the ground.

This also means he can catch imposters in the act.

He works well with anyone, but he still makes a good imposter by himself.

He really likes the Sked because of the simple design.

Follows people around for fun and his dumbass gets voted off because of it.

Uses his quirk to pop through walls and scare people.

"Hah. Key swipe, huh? 👱🏻"

Always swipes his key perfectly every time.

He does all of the tasks that nobody else wants to, including his own.

"What did you call an emergency meeting for, Mirio?"

"I just missed you guys. ☺"

"..."

"Vote him out."

Now, Izuku is really good in either role.

This is partially because of a little notebook he keeps filled with stats on the crewmates.

It also holds notes on how long it takes to complete different tasks, multiple layouts of the different ships, a list of combinations for O2, etc.

This comes in handy during discussions.

"Wait. Mina, you came from the labs all the way to the office to call a meeting? And you said it took you four minutes to get here while running, but that's, at least, a fifteen-minute journey, even if you ran at your maximum speed. The only people who could get here that fast are Iida, Mirio, and I. But, there is a vent that leads from the labs to storage and you could probably get here in four minutes if you used it. Also, if you saw Tamaki kill Todoroki, why didn't you just report the body—"

"Oh my God, Izuku. Just vote me out. 😒"

After finishing his tasks, he usually goes to admin to keep an eye on the body count. If not there, he'll be taking notes in the cafeteria.

He gets really focused on his tasks, so he's kind of an easy kill.

He has a little green baby on his head and his name is Kota 😌.

The notebook also helps him out when he's the imposter.

He knows which rooms have vents and where they lead.

Nobody ever suspects sweet baby Izuku to be the killer 🥺 no, not wittle baby boy.

Nobody, but Katsuki.

Literally, if there's no concrete evidence against him, hardly anyone thinks it's him.

And Katsuki isn't exactly trustworthy when it comes to Izuku, but he's literally right every time.

The king of sabotage.

He'll hit the lights, lock the door to Electrical, turn on O2, stab someone in the dark, and then vent to the other side of the ship.

As I said earlier, he's really good at getting double kills and then venting away.

He's real handy with a knife, but he has a strength-based quirk so he could snap necks if he wants.

They hardly ever win by finishing all of their tasks, because Mirio keeps following people around, Katsuki doesn't do tasks as a ghost, Kiri doesn't know how to upload the files, Shinsou sleeps through every alarm, Shoto forgets he has a map and gets lost, and Denki won't do his unless Iida chases him around and forces him.

God help these children 😩.

#boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #shoto torodoki #mirio togata #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #mina ashido #kaminari denki #ochako urakara #tenya iida #eijiro kirishima #tamaki amakiji #among us #among us au #bnha tsuyu #tsuyu asui #my hero headcanons #boku no hero academia headcanons #class 1a #the big three

[crystalgirl259]

How to Train Your Dragonblood 3: The Dragonblood Alpha Ch4

"Ground all dragonbloods!" Cliff shouted at the top of his lungs as he ran through the underground stone corridor to the hanger. Jay and Kai were trailing after the chief as he ran ahead, bellowing orders to anyone who would listen. Cole and Ed were also following them, also concerned about Cliff's fear. The others were following Cliff's orders and locking down the island, even though some of the dragonbloods weren't happy about it. They hated being controlled and ordered around, especially after all those years of being enslaved by that monster at the nest.

Unfortunately, as they were living on Cliff's island, they had to live by his rules.

As soon as Jay confirmed Iron Baron's name, it was like Cliff suddenly became a completely different person. One not seen by his family or anyone in Ninjago. As he was growing up, Jay had seen his father in chief mode, father mode, over-protective mode, and sometimes he could just be an insensitive and condescending jerk. This Cliff was very different, however. He looked downright terrified as he ran around the hanger, and it was very unnerving for Jay to see.

"What?! Why?" Jay cried in shock, but Cliff ignored his son.

"Seal the gates! Lower the storm doors!" He shouted as they entered a bigger cavern. Jay tried to keep up while Kai followed him, just as bewildered.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait, wait, what is happening?" The brunette asked as everyone rushed around.

"Come on, you heard the man, lock it down!" Ed echoed around the underground cave with dragonbloods and humans milling around as the group climbed down the stairs, one-half alert and the other half confused. People began to pull down levers and the gate that led outside slowly closed.

"No dragonblood or man sets foot off this island until I give the word!" Cliff bellowed and dragonbloods and humans start running around in near panic at their Chief's sudden alarm. Cliff ignored the stairs and jumped down the platform along with Kai and Ed.

"Wait, all this because some weird guy you knew is stirring up troubles on some faraway land?" Jay asked in shock. He had never seen his father run from anything in his life. Without warning, Cliff suddenly got into his son's face, a look of fear, anger, and determination plastered on his face.

"Because Iron Baron is a madman, without conscience or mercy, and if he's built a dragonblood army... Gods help us all!" He muttered in horror before he started to scream orders at his men again as he paced around. Jay wasn't discouraged by this and caught up to him, cutting off his path. Ed had to give the kid some points for audacity. He had always known the lad had it in him to stand up to his own father.

"Let's ride back out there," Jay suggested, trying to be positive. "We'll follow those trappers to Iron Baron and talk some sense into him."

"No! We fortify the island!" Cliff insisted.

"It's our duty to keep the peace!" Jay argued.

"Peace is over, Jay! I must prepare you for war."

"War!?" Kai exclaimed in shock. He could tell Cliff was scared of the Iron Baron, so was Kai, but the brunette didn't expect it to go so far.

"Dad, if this Iron Baron is coming for the dragonbloods, we can't wait around for him to get here! Let's go find him and change his mind!" Jay pushed, but the chief was too stubborn to listen.

"No, some minds won't be changed, Jay; Ninjago is what you need to worry about! A Chief protects his own!" He snapped at the young man before turning back to the panicking humans and dragonbloods running around the hanger. "Secure the stables! Latch every stall!" He ordered as he ran ahead, leaving Jay and Kai alone in the middle of the hanger. As he left, Jay looked at Kai and gave his hotheaded boyfriend a comforting look, sensing his unease.

The Fire Dragonblood then went and gently touched his arm, already knowing he was up to something from his determined look.

"Jay, don't!" He tried to reason with his boyfriend, but Jay was just as stubborn as his father.

"I have to baby, you know that." He replied as he leaned down for a quick peck on Kai's cheek and that was all it took to convince Kai into transforming into his dragon form. Cliff saw the flash of Kai's transformation, but before he could turn around completely, Jay was already on top of Kai's dragon form and then they were in the air and swooping underneath the closing hanger gate. The couple tried to find a way out as the windows and other openings of the cave were closing off.

Luckily, they managed to get into the open air before the last gate was closed.

As the Chief and Ed watch him go, another dragon swooped down behind them and takes after them. When they saw what was happening, Pixal also transformed and she and Zane chased after the pair. Zane frowned as the gate slowly rose and the light was blocked but in the last second, he and Zane were out right before the entrance was locked. Cliff sighed and shook his head as he watched his son and Zane fly off into the distance...

****************

As the sun began to set, a ship was sailing in the icy sea near some huge cliffs. At the front of the ship stood Clutch Powers, watching the horizon before he walked back on the deck where his men were working and pulling ropes. They all had to keep their eyes peeled. With this wind, they would reach Iron Baron by daybreak so they had to fill up the ship with dragonbloods and quick. It was no time to be picky. Not with riders showing up to rescue their targets almost every night.

He just couldn't understand how anyone could like those flying, murderous, monsters.

As Clutch examined his maps, trying to pinpoint the most recent dragonblood sightings with their route, one of the sailors looked in the sky, and Clutch noticed that and followed his gaze. Everyone was watched the two dragonbloods appeared in the distance and flew towards them. Clutch brightened up at the sight of two healthy-looking targets.

"Get them, lads! Take them down! He ordered as he aimed the crossbow with a satisfied smirk. It was wiped off, however, when he realized who the dragonbloods were. The same riders and dragonbloods that they had met earlier that day. As the men around him yelled and prepared themselves for capture while Clutch frowned and pulled the machine.

"You're not getting away this time!" He shouted at the riders.

"Jaybird, please tell me you have a plan at least." Kai gulped mentally as they flew closer to the ship. The ginger-haired man didn't say anything to his boyfriend, however. He wasn't confident enough to even look at him. "YOU DON'T HAVE A PLAN!?" He roared, catching Zane and Pixal's attention.

"Is everything alright?" Zane asked in worry, but Jay gave him a comforting smile.

"Yeah, we're good, Kai's just being paranoid as per usual." He reassured as he petted the Fire Dragonblood's head. Kai only snorted in disbelief, but before he could respond, Clutch started firing net at them. The launched nets were gracefully avoided and Kai got closer to the ship until he could leap on the deck with Pixal following seconds after. Jay removed his helmet while Zane spun his large shurikens and Clutch takes out his blade.

"And here I was worried I may turn up empty-handed," Clutch smirked as he prepared for the riders to make the first strike.

"Nope! It's your lucky day, we're here to give up." Jay chirped as he held out a hand for Zane to put down his weapon and for Pixal and Kai to return to their human forms, which they all did. The hunters and Clutch were shocked to see the dragonbloods transform into humans. They knew dragonbloods could do this, but they rarely saw this. When they all finally registered Jay's words, everyone blinked in shock. Even Kai and Pixal were confused, and Kai practically shared a mind with him.

What was his human boyfriend up to?

Zane looked at him like he was crazy as Jay put his arms up in surrender. Everybody else was too busy gawking to even remember to pick up their fallen jaws. Clutch also almost dropped his knife as he raised a confused eyebrow. Jay and Zane walked away from their dragonbloods and Jay leaned down to take a net.

"That's one Fire Dragonblood, one Ice Dragonblood, and two of the finest riders from the sunny island of Ninjago; that ought to make the boss happy, right?" He smirked as he suddenly threw the net over his three friends all froze in shock. Kai really hoped Jay did have a plan or else the human would be sleeping outside for a week. Mutters of insane and worried rumbles flew in the air around them. Pixal mentally begging the crazy boy who apparently was willing to sell them to a bunch of hunters to explain himself faster or she would happily freeze him right where he stood.

Jay said nothing to his friends as he pushed Zane's shurikens into Clutch's hands, who was still rooted to the spot and watching Jay in disbelief. He backed off when Kai bared his fangs at him to follow.

Jay then shoved out of the way the weapons of the dumbstruck crew while Zane, Kai, and Pixal finally got the net off. They all climbed down in a cage built below the ship while the men are still watching.

"What are you doing Jaybird?" Kai hissed at his boyfriend as Jay followed after him, pulling down the barred opening. This only made Kai more worried as he was a bit lost by his boyfriend's actions. They were among enemies yet the boy and Zane were not aggressive. Granted he somehow doubted Jay would ever intentionally be aggressive. He just didn't seem to carry that type of intimidating aura like his fellow humans. He was also concerned that he willingly entered a cage.

He whined in his throat at Jay's confusing gestures that made a dragonblood as mighty as he behaves like a mother watching its hatchling from falling out of the sky.

For the life of him, Kai just couldn't understand his human, boyfriend, rider sometimes.

"Kai, just relax." Jay pleaded as he turned back to the hunters. "Dragonbloods don't really care for cramped spaces, but they won't be any trouble." He promised, but this had a very opposite effect to what he was hoping for. The people suddenly pointed all of their weapons at the Fire Dragonblood, making Kai jump in fright as he transformed, eyes like needles and back arched like a cat. Pixal quickly followed his lead, also feeling incredibly threatened.

She had spent many long and grueling months locked up in a cage in the arena back in Ninjago, so this was all brought back some very painful memories.

Zane seemed to sense this and gently rubbed her head to help her relax. It worked, but only a little bit. Kai lowered his body to the ground and growled. Jay resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he poked his head through the bars. Clutch stared at him with a flat look. Beside him, a hooded man fidgeted with his weapon. After a short staring contest, Clutch rolled his eyes to the sky when a sword sticks out of the cage. The crew jumps back when it lit up in flames.

Jay popped out again, hitting his head as if reprimanding himself for not remembering.

"Can't have armed prisoners." He smiled as he gave the sword to a man while down below Ka, Zane, and Pixal watched everything unfold with trepidation.

"How is this a plan?" Kai mentally glared at the back of his head. But Jay was more focused on the trappers and gaining their trust.

"Just what every dragonblood trapper needs." He smiled as the men inspected the device he made curiously. One end coated the blade in saliva from Kai's dragon form and the other sprayed gas from Tox. As the men looked at the weapon, they accidentally activated the gas. They desperately tried to shut it off, and Clutch stepped away while another man clicked the lighter by mistake. Jay ducked below as an explosion rocked the deck. The two men that caused the explosion were covered in soot and coughing.

A spark was floating around and glided into the cage.

Without thinking, Kai and Pixal leaped onto their back legs and played with it, trying to be the first to catch it with their paws. Jay almost squealed at the sight and Zane smiled. Despite being intelligent, powerful creatures, dragonbloods were still animals deep down. Jay would even use light reflecting off his knife to make a little dot for Kai to chase like a cat. When he finally regained his senses and the spark faded, Kai moaned and covered his face with a paw.

He hated it when he acted cute when he was supposed to be daunting and remarkable.

He always told Jay and anyone that he was a fearless creature, not some cuddly toy. Having enough of the show, Clutch stomped to the men and grabbed the sword before he turned to Jay.

"What game are you playing?" He demanded.

"Eh, no game, ee just want to meet the Iron Baron." He shrugged innocently.

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to change his mind about dragonbloods." He replied, looking more serious than Clutch had thought the small man was capable of and the crew started to laugh. Zane sighed in disagreement but said nothing.

"Some minds cannot be changed, Jaybird, you really have to understand that." Kai mentally mumbled with a tired thought when Jay caught his eye he shook his head and that visibly hit the ginger-haired man judging by his surprised look. The teen was silent as he stared back until he finally gathered his thoughts.

"Well, you changed yours, so did my Dad and all of Ninjago." He shot back just as determined but a tad more subdued, and Kai looked away. Zane and Pixal shared a look, knowing that the couple were having a private talk, and were feeling very uncomfortable at being in the middle. When he knew he had won their short argument, Jay slowly climbed out of the cage and was joined by Zane and the two dragonbloods. The trappers raised their weapons but waited for Clutch's command.

"He can be very persuasive," Zane added, trying to help his friend.

"Once you gain their loyalty there is nothing a dragonblood won't do for you." Jay smiled as he scratched the Fire Dragonblood's ear fondly, demonstrating their close bond and showing Kai he wasn't upset with him. But Clutch was still not convinced.

"You won't be changing any minds around here." He snorted.

"I can change yours right here, right now." He promised as he reached for Kai's flying gear, pulling a lever that spread the prosthetic tailfin.

"You sure about this Jaybird?" Kai asked nervously, but his boyfriend sent him as much love and reassurance as he could through their link. Once he was sure Kai would be alright, Jay turned back to Clutch.

"May I?" He asked as he extended his hand for Clutch to take. Only he didn't get the chance to do anything because all of a sudden, a dark green shape moved across the ship and snatched him away. Another dragonblood flew by and ripped the sails. Within seconds, the trapper's ship was surrounded by a few dragonbloods. The sailors tried to stay on their feet as Clutch glanced around at the sky for the assailants. Fearing for his boyfriend, Kai leaped onto the mast and sails growling loudly, until he stopped when he saw they were the other riders from Ninjago.

He was relieved to see Jay in Morro's claws.

"Put me down! Harumi, what are you doing?!" Jay screeched as he struggled in the Wind Dragonblood's claws, but Harumi and Morro had to suddenly duck with everyone else as the trappers started firing nets at them. As most of the riders managed to dodge the nets, Dareth and Tox weren't as fast and one of the nets wrapped around them. They would have fallen into the icy sea if Rocky hadn't caught them in the air. The Earth Dragonblood hovered in place as Cole climbed down and cut the net away with a knife, freeing the pair.

While they were all distracted, Jay finally managed to push his legs up and released himself from Morro's grip.

As he fell headfirst he looped his hands through the bands around his legs and unfolded his wings. On the deck, Zane rushed Clutch and pushed him away from the catapult, but the net was still fired. Luckily, Jay avoided it as he glided back down to the ship. He grabbed a rope from a sail and slid down on the deck. Kai jumped beside him as he took off the wings and nuzzled the human affectionately. He would have transformed and hugged Jay, but he still didn't feel safe enough to do that yet.

"What are you guys doing here?!"

"We're here to rescue you!

"We don't need to be rescued!

"Enough!" A voice suddenly boomed and a large dragonblood made of metal landed behind a sail, with Cliff Gordon as the rider and Ed as a back passenger. This was Karloff, a large Metal Dragonblood. A couple of years ago, Jay finally convinced his father to partner up with a dragonblood like almost everyone else in Ninjago. After many failed attempts to connect with a dragonblood, Cliff met Karloff in a local tavern and the two of them hit it off right away.

They were now regular drink buddies and partnered up whenever Cliff needed a dragonblood.

Karloff roared in agreement with his rider and Jay turned just as the Chief hopped down with a thud on the floor.

"Well, you just picked the wrong ship!" Clutch sneered as he gestured angrily at them. Cliff just heaved a sigh in frustration. Before the lead trapper could say another word, the chief grabbed his face without a word and pushed him away, being in no mood to deal with other people with attitude problems. He slid down and as he tried to stand, Zane hit him in the head, knocking him back down. Before he could get up again, Pixal suddenly pinned Clutch down, her icy breath leaving bits of frost in his face and hair.

Clutch was smart enough to stop struggling.

"Does anybody else want to try anything?" Cliff growled and the crew reluctantly lowered their weapons. They may be skilled in the art of Dragonblood hunting, but they weren't stupid enough to take on eight different Dragonbloods and nine humans. "That's what I figured." Cliff huffed and turned to glare at Jay. "You, saddle up; we're going home."

"No." Jay snapped. It was so blunt that Cliff almost fell over. That ungrateful, idiotic son of his! What had he done to deserve so much grief from his family? First Libber and now Jay? It must have come from her side of the family, no doubt about it.

"Of all the irresponsible–"

"I'm trying to protect our dragonbloods and stop a war! How is that irresponsible?!"

"BECAUSE WAR IS WHAT HE WANTS, SON!" Cliff shouted louder than he had in his life. The exasperation in his voice had Jay freeze and Cliff realized he had to explain. With a heavy sigh, he began to tell the story of Iron Baron. "Years ago there was a great gathering of chieftains to discuss the dragonblood scourge we all faced." He started and Ed gripped his friend's arm tightly. The Chief was rubbing his eyes and frowning. Ed had a feeling that by the end of this his friend would have aged decades.

Who could have thought that something so old and gone would surge from the folds of the past and haunt him so much?

As Cliff recounted his encounter with the Iron Baron, his mind flashed to the past. A younger Cliff looked around at the other chiefs sitting on high chairs as a pale, hunched figure was stepping in their middle.

"Into our midst came a stranger from a strange land, covered in scars and draped in a cloak of dragon skin; he carried no weapon and spoke softly, saying that he, Iron Baron was a man of the people devoted to free mankind from the tyranny of dragonbloods." He said as he remembered the man speaking to the chiefs and Cliff leaned down in his chair, scratching his chin as he listened with the others. "He claimed that he alone could control all the dragonbloods and that he alone can keep us safe if, we chose to bow down and follow him." He sighed sadly as the sound of the other chiefs laughing rowdily at the man's boldness still ringing in his ears.

In the present day, the teens all started laughing too, Dareth and Plundar the loudest.

Ronin was laughing so loud that he had to wipe a tear from his eye.

"Yeah, we all laughed too; until he wrapped himself in his cloak and cried out: Then see how well you do without me." Cliff shuddered at the memory. "Then the rooftops of the meeting hall suddenly burst into flames and from it armies of dragonbloods descended, burning everything to the ground!" He hissed angrily before it melted into a look of sorrow and regret. "I... was the only one to escape." He muttered and everyone on the deck fell silent at the confession.

Jay still wasn't convinced, however, and everyone could see it.

"Men who kill without reason cannot be reasoned with." Cliff tried to convince him, but as usual, his son was stubborn.

"Maybe, but I'm still going to try." Jay insisted as he walked away. Clutch followed Jay with his gaze as the younger man Jay hopped onto the Fire Dragonblood, just as surprised as the chief. "This is what I'm good at, and if I could change your mind, then I can change his too." He added, sounding sincere but determined at the same time. Ed smiled at his apprentice's courage while the Chief shook his head. With one thought from Jay, Kai took off and Cole runs over to Rocky to follow.

"Let's go!" He ordered to the other riders, but Cliff grabbed his arm.

"No, lead the others back to Ninjago; I've had enough mutiny for one day." He growled as he stepped away from the Earth Dragonblood and his rider. Down with Clutch, Pixal still had him pinned to the deck until Zane managed to pull her off. As quickly as they had appeared, the riders all flew from the trappers' boat, with Ed and Cliff chasing after Jay and Kai and the others heading back to Ninjago. Clutch couldn't move from the deck, too shocked and confused by what just happened...

#how to train your dragonblood #ninjago #ninjago jay #ninjago kai #ninjago cole #ninjago zane #ninjago pixal #ninjago harumi #ninjago shade #ninjago plundar #ninjago dareth #ninjago ronin #ninjago morro #ninjago tox #plasmashipping

[rosaliestark01]

Dusk Till Dawn - Part 4

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You meet your “real dad” and end up learning more than you expect you would. 

Warning:Swearing, Angst, Angry!Reader, Angry!Avengers, Angry!Peter

A/N: Colab with @annies-marvel-imagines​. No GIFs are mine.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask. Ellie, somehow knowing where he lived, had practically dragged you there. You weren’t sure if he’d be happy to see you or not. You don’t even know if he knows you exist.

“Yeah,” Ellie says, gently pushing you towards the door of his apartment. “You deserve the truth and who better than your own dad?”

“Okay...” You knock on the door and wait.

“Just a second!” A man yells on the other side. You hear the sound of something breaking and someone swearing before the door opens. “What do you want?”

“I’m-”, you begin but he interrupts you.

“Y/N,” he says softly. You see some recognition in his eyes, but not very much.

“You know who I am?” You knew that people mostly knew you for being Tony Stark’s “daughter”, but you hoped that some part of him actually knew you for you.

“Of course I know you,” He says as he invites you and Ellie inside of his messy apartment. “You look so much like your mother, Kristen.” You give him a strange look, which he tilts his head at.

“Christine,” you correct him. Your mom’s name was Christine Y/L/N. How could he have forgotten

“Right. Of course,” he says quickly. “It’s just been a while since I’ve said her name.”

After a long period of silence, you don’t know what to say. The longer the silence it the more awkward you felt. What did you expect? You show up at your dad’s cheap apartment unexpectedly with your friend from school who looked way too comfortable in a stranger’s apartment. Instead of saying anything, you looked around. There wasn’t a lot of furniture in the room. There was a couch, a recliner, and a small box TV on top of a wooden crate.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you finally say quietly.

“It’s nice to finally meet you too. After all this time, i get to finally meet my daughter.”

That took you by surprise. Had he been looking for you and for how long?

“How long have you been trying to meet me?” you ask. 

“Pretty much your whole life,”He says. He looks at you seriously before he continues. “I don’t know what Stark has told you, but he only cares about himself. He took you away from me before I even got the chance to hold you.”

“What?�� You didn’t know what he was talking about but you wanted to know more. What did your dad Tony do?

“As revenge against my dad, he took you away from me,” Ezekiel says angrily. 

“That doesn’t sound like him,” you tell him. No matter how angry you are at him, you knew that Tony Stark wouldn’t do something like that. Sure, he was prideful, arrogant, and a jerk, but he wasn’t a revenge kidnapper. It just sounded crazy.

“Then I guess you don’t know him as well as you thought you did.” He said. You had never seem someone so calm yet angry. “He ruined my life. He killed my dad, murdered my wife, and stole my own daughter.”

“That really doesn’t sound like him,” you tell him. Besides, Tony told you that Obadiah’s death was his own fault. You didn’t want to believe that that was another lie, but you couldn’t trust Tony Stark no matter how much you were trying to right now.

“It makes sense, Y/N,”Ellie, who had been pretty quiet this whole time, says. “Why else would he lie to you about this?”

“I don’t know.” You look down, not wanting either of them to see the tears that were threatening to fall. The more you tried to believe Tony’s side of the story, the more you couldn’t. He had been lying to you your entire life. Whose to say that your identity was the only thing he lied about.

“I know that it’s not something you want to believe, but your dad is right,” Ellie says.“You can’t trust Tony Stark.”

By the time you made it back to the Tower, it was already light outside. School was already in session, and the entire team was waiting for you in front of the tower. You knew they were all probably pissed at you, but all you could think about was what Ezekiel had told you.

“Y/N Stark, where the hell have you been?” Tony yells at you. You couldn’t help it, but hearing him call you that made you sick to your stomach, literally.  “Do you have any idea how worried we all were? We were this close to sending a search party and- Y/N?”

You tried to hold it in, but you couldn’t. You threw up right in front of everyone. Tony quickly approached you with worry and alarm painted all over his face. The second he tried to help you inside, you snapped.

“Don’t touch me!” you yell at him, causing him to quickly back away. The next thing you knew, everything became dark.

When you opened your eyes, you were back in your room. The curtains were drawn shut, and you noticed that you weren’t alone.

“Y/N, how are you feeling?”Steve asked. He sounded worried, would make sense since you literally just passed out in front of everyone. “Everyone’s worried about you. Your dad-”

“He’s not my dad,” you snap at him. You couldn’t help it. You knew he meant well, but you were stressed and angry. 

“What’s gotten into you?” He asks seriously. “If there’s something bothering you, you can tell me.”

“Nothing is bothering me,” you lie. He gives you a look telling you hat he knows that you’re lying. You’re not planning on telling Captain America that the person who you thought was your dad wasn’t really your dad and had kidnapped you the same day you were born. Even you thought it sounded crazy, but you didn’t know what else to believe.

“Your friends are downstairs,” Steve says hesitantly. “They’re worried about you too.”

“You can tell them I’m fine,” if your friends were there, then that meant that Peter was probably there too. You weren’t in the mood for a lecture about safety from Queen’s friendly neighborhood webslinger. 

“I think that’s something you should tell them,” Steve said gently. You signed, knowing that he was probably right. You threw back the covers on your bed and stood up, unfortunately too fast. 

You made your way down to the lobby where Harry, Ned, MJ, Harley, and Peter stood waiting for you. You noticed the way Peter paced around nervously biting his nails. He stopped immediately the moment he say you and pulled you into one of the biggest hugs he’d ever given you.

“Y/N! Are you okay!” He asked frantically. “I was- we were worried sick!”

“I’m fine,” You tell him a you pull away, much to his disapproval. “There’s no need to worry.”

“Where were you?” He asked, although deep down he had a feeling he knew who you were with.

“I was just hanging out with Ellie,” you say. It was close to the truth. You were with Ellie. Luckily, his spidey-senses didn’t pick up on a lie. What it did pick up on was a feeling of looming danger whenever he heard anyone mention Eloise.

“I don’t think that hanging out with Eloise is healthy for you,” he snapped. 

“Y/N, we really were worried about you,” MJ spoke up as she seemed to sense some tension between you and Peter.

“We still are,”Ned added. “You’re one of my best friends.”

You smiled, happy that Ned saw you like that. He was one of your best friends too. You felt lucky to have friends like these (and happy that they didn’t bring Gwen with them).

“But we all know I’m her favorite,” Harry says as he pulled you in for a side hug. 

“You wish,” you joked. 

“Um, I don’t remember your name being Harley,” Harley tells him jokingly. You all laugh, except Peter who is watching you like you’re going to fall over any second.

“Maybe we should all take the day off and hang out like we used to,” Ned suggests. Your smile fades. Acting like everything is all sunshine and rainbows sounds great, but it’s not. What you really need is time for yourself to think about everything that Ezekiel told you.

“I really want to, but I’m not feeling that well,” you tell them. The excuse sounds all too familiar to Peter, but this time he actually agrees with you.

“I agree. Y/n needs to rest,” he says.

You exchange goodbyes with your friend, however Peter leaves before you could say goodbye to him. You knew he was just worried, but it didn’t stop it from hurting any less.

On your way back to your room, you run into Tony. It looked like he was waiting for you. He stands up and walks towards you with a sad look on his face.

“Y/N, I-”, he begins, but you shut the door to your room before he could say anything else.

You notice the USB that you stole from Hydra sitting on your desk. Part of you wishes that you had never stolen that file from Hydra but you’re also glad you did. You don’t want to live a lie anymore. 

An hour later, your phone dings. Picking it up, and assuming it’s Peter, you are surprised to see that the message is from Ellie, and it sounds urgent.

Ellie: Know it’s not the best time, but meet me at the bank asap!!!!

Since you know that someone is probably outside your door (most likely Tony or Steve), you climb out the window. It takes longer than usual because half way through you begin to feel a bit dizzy.

Eventually, you make it down and make your way to the bank. You don’t know what Ellie is doing there or why she wants you there as soon as possible, but she is your friend and if she is in danger, then you have to help her.

“What’s going on?” you say upon seeing her. Before she could say anything, somebody grabs you by the throat.

“You!” they yell. You instantly feel something hit you. It was a freaking lamp. Looking up, you instantly recognize the person.

“Didn’t I throw a knife at you?” you ask. 

“As you can see, I’m alive now.” Now? What was that supposed to mean?

“Obviously,” you say back at him. He looks at you angrily as you move yourself to stand in front of him. Despite your killer headache, you are smart enough to know that there is no good reason why he’s here.

“Why don’t you get out of my way?” he say. Unfortunately, it looks like he has an upgraded version of that weird space gun. 

After you got shot on that mission, you had planned on upgrading your suit to make it more bullet proof, but not only did you forget, but you didn’t even bring it with you.

“You know what?” He asked, when you stood your ground. “Since we’re both here, I might as well repay you for what you did to me.”

“I think I’m good,” you say. To be truthful, you were starting to feel nervous. You were feeling severely underequipt compared to this dude. You didn’t have your suit and this guy had a giant space gun.

“I don’t care,” he says as he points it at you.

“I believe she said she’s good,” a voice says. You all look to see Spider-Man leaning against the door. You’re happy he’s here, but you know that now you’re in for the biggest lecture of your life.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the man says as he points the space gut at you again. 

Peter uses his webs to pull the gun before the blast hits you. Instead, it creates a burning hole in the wall behind you. Peter tries to web the guy up, but somehow he can’t. 

Feeling the need to do something, you try something that Nat was teaching you before she and everyone else became too busy to train with you. A lot of what she taught you was about balance and using your body weight. This seemed like a good time for that considering Peter’s web shooters were’t sticking to this guy.

Unfortunately for all of you, the guy got a hold of his space gun again and this time he pointed it at Peter.

“Pete!” you yell. Not thinking twice about it, you take the blast that was meant for him. It hits you in the exact same place as last time, so for that you are lucky.

“What the hell?” He yells before turning on the guy. “You-”

Peter, not caring about his strength punches the man, sending him flying. Somehow, he’s still alive. He grabs the gun, presses something on the side, as shoots at the three of you.

“Get down!” You yell, pulling Peter and Ellie down. The explosion sends part w wall flying at you guys, but Peter catches it. 

Ellie?” you ask, checking to see if she was okay.

“I’m fine,” she say as she glares at Peter.

“Y/N, what the hell were you thinking?” He yells at you. 

“She saved your life, you ungrateful-” Ellie says, stepping in and pointing a finger at him.

“You bringing her here almost got her killed!” He yells back. Although you don’t have spidey-senses, you have a feeling that their fight is about to spiral out of control. It doesn’t help that your two friends hate each others guts.

“So now it’s my fault that some crazy person tried to kill Y/N?”, she screams. She throws a punch at Peter, but he easily catches it.

“Why don’t you tell us who you really are?” He asks her. His voice is steady but seeping with hatred.

“What the hell are you talking about?” She screams back. Even you have to admit that she is starting to look a little crazed.“Y/N, I think this stupid arachnid has gone crazy.”

“Hey-”you say. Yeah, you were definitely going to be lectured by Peter and everybody else you know, but you are not going to put up with her insulting Peter like that.

“You-” She yells, probably trying to insult him further, when Peter’s head quickly turns to your left.

“That is enough everyone!” Tony yells. He, Pepper, Happy, and the rest of the Avengers are standing right outside the burning bank. 

“Stark.” Ellie say disdainfully. 

“Excuse me, but who are you?” He asks her.

“She’s my friend,” you pipe up, not wanting her to say anything that could get her in trouble.

“How come we’ve never heard of her?” Nat asks. Tony is about to say something but she stops him.

“You guys don’t need to know every detail of my life.” She looks taken aback because you have never spoken to her like that before. 

“Y/N, you haven’t been acting like yourself lately. What’s up with that?” Pepper says as she walks up to you. She seems to notice that the part of your shirt where you were shot was burnt .

“Let’s just... go home. Okay?” She asks. It was more of a suggestion that you had no choice but to agree to.

You notice Ellie fuming when Peter says something to her. Frankly, you don’t want to know.

Later that night, Pepper walks in (probably because she’s the only one you seem to be okay with).

“Y/N, I think it’s best that you don’t see Eloise for a while,” she say hesitantly. 

“Why?” Although you already know why, you couldn’t help but ask.

“It’s just until things go back to normal,” she reassures you. “From now on, you’ll be home schooled. You can still go to Homecoming with your friends and go to any after school activities you already have. Okay?”

“Okay.” You’re not entirely sure that Peter would still want to go to Homecoming with you after today, but you nod your head anyway.

A/N: Part 5 will be posted on Friday by @annies-marvel-imagines​

TAG LIST:

@eridanuswave​ @drishtisikarwar​ @spideygirl2003​ @ilovespideyyy​

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #tom holland peter parker #peter parker x reader insert #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tony stark x daughter reader #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers reader insert #the avengers #pepper potts #steve rogers #things are finally becoming interesting

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars XCIX (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: This is one of my favorite chapters but mostly bc of how well the song fits the plot of this part -Danny

Words: 3,209

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: Holding On To You -by Twenty One Pilots

Chapter Thirty-Four: In the Eye of the Storm.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each — Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, with eighty points — Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in third place — Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

Mel looked back one last time, she watched as he waved at their friends and couldn't help but think how young he looked standing next to the other champions...  Then she thought that probably she looked exactly the same, surrounded by all the teachers and the Slytherin Prefect that was at least a head taller. Mel felt completely out of place.

"So... on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" said Bagman. "Three — two — one —"

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Harry and Cedric hurried forward into the maze.

The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment they entered the maze. Harry felt almost as though he were underwater again. He pulled out his wand, muttered, "Lumos," and heard Cedric do the same just behind him.

After about fifty yards, they reached a fork. They looked at each other.

"See you," Harry said, and he took the left one, while Cedric took the right.

Mel strolled on the edge of the maze until she heard the whistle blow a third time. Now all the champions were inside. Her breathing grew uneven and her hands started to sweat. Forty minutes into her walk Moody appeared near her place.

She quickly hid in the darkness, at first, she'd hidden out of instinct, when her brain finally realized it was dumb she attempted to move, but then it hit her: Why was he walking into the maze when no red sparks had flashed up?

Not that she was actually suspicious of Professor Moody, but... All right, maybe she was suspicious. Hadn't he always said 'constant vigilance'? Trust no one? Well, that was what she was doing. The old man reached for his watch, he had a frantic expression, not at all like his usual scowl.

"Anytime time now, my lord," He let out shakily. "Anytime now..."

Mel waited until the sound of steps had completely vanished. Maybe he'd gotten all crazy about a villain entering the maze and he was making sure that wasn't the case? It didn't felt right though, what 'Lord' was he talking to?

Someone screamed not too far from where she'd been standing. This only increased her anxiety, she walked faster around the maze, hoping to hear something. After ten minutes she saw a couple of sparks fly into the air and she ran. When she got there Professor McGonagall and Moody were examining something, she tried to look as neutral as possible, but her face soon fell as she looked down at the person that had conjured the sparks.

"What happened?" She kneeled beside Krum.

"He was stunned," Moody sneered. "Again."

"It's truly shameful if the champions have decided to start eliminating each other instead of searching for the cup," McGonagall said severely. "First Delacour, now Krum."

"What? Both of them got attacked?"

Instead of answering, Moody stepped forward and handed her Krum's wand.

"Take him back to the tent."

She looked into his normal eye and saw a type of coldness that she'd never seen before. The memory of Moody walking out of the maze was still very fresh, and an uneasy feeling was starting to spread through her chest.

"Aren't you worried someone else might be doing these things?" She demanded. Moody laughed, he openly cackled.

"Miss Dumbledore, boys will be boys, ain't that right? They must've lost their patience, anyone in their position would forget about manners..."

Cedric Diggory hexing people? Harry attacking Krum just for the win? No one that knew them could possibly think that. She was positively alarmed now.

"Professor?" She turned to McGonagall. "Could we speak for–?"

"Do as you're told," The woman interrupted. "I assure you we'll get to the bottom of this."

Mel swore under her breath and conjured a stretcher. Moody helped her put Krum's body on it before sending her off. She left, though she would've rather stay and keep on eye on Moody. When she walked into Madame Pomfrey's tent, Erick was already there with Fleur's figure lying unconscious next to him.

"Another one, huh?" Erick raised a brow. "What is happening there?"

"Someone stunned him," She frowned. "Moody says they've started to attack each other..."

"Cedric and Harry attacking people?" The boy asked sceptically. "Harry, who stayed behind to make sure all the victims were rescued from the lake? And the very same bloke that never complained about not being mentioned in the Daily Prophet?

Mel left Krum on the corner and stepped closer to Erick, lowering her voice.

"I told Moody this couldn't be right and he laughed– laughed! Said boys will be boys as if Harry's ever done such a childish thing– as if Cedric could ever act so unfairly!"

"It seems strange, especially coming from Moody..."

"I saw him leaving the maze moments before the attack. This is wrong, he's acting strange– This happened before, remember? Moody searched through the woods then, rushed out of the castle, got there in less than five minutes–"

"The castle?" Erick frowned.

"He said it himself, said he'd come down as soon as Snape told him and came down to check what was going on..."

"I was doing my strolls around the castle that night– you know, prefect duties– and Snape stopped me to tell me about some rowdy sixth-years in the other hall... Moody never got near us, I don't even think he was in the castle, I walked past his office and the staff room before that and he wasn't there."

"He's not known to hang around the school grounds, is he?"

"And he can't walk that fast, not with that leg... Why would he lie?"

"I don't know," She shook her head. "For someone who values honesty, it sure is odd, going through all the trouble searching rooms, then lie about where you... I'm an idiot."

"What?"

"Moody–" She said, sitting down. "Harry told me about Snape accusing him of stealing ingredients from the supply room the same night Harry was almost caught– Moody was already there– And the night Harry got chosen for the tournament, he told us exactly how he'd done it and we all just ignored it!"

"I'm not following," Erick crouched down to be at eye level with her. "Are you okay?"

"No, listen– Snape said boomslang skin had been stolen..."

"Polyjuice Potion?" He said blankly. "So?"

"Harry saw a Mr Crouch that night too, and Moody asked for the map so he could 'keep an eye'– but what if he was trying to avoid getting caught again?"

"You're trying to say that Moody's Mr Crouch? We saw both in the same room at least twice this year."

"I know! But Crouch wasn't acting like himself, was he? What if he was controlling him?"

"What would that mean, anyway?" Erick was losing his patience. "Say Crouch was under the Imperio curse, say Moody was there because he was controlling Crouch– Why?"

"Because that's not Alastor Moody!" Mel stood up, each realization coming one after another. "He was attacked the day we came back to school... They said there was no sign of an attack but they arrived too late, what if he wasn't Moody by then?"

"We've had an impostor the whole time?"

"Maybe Crouch found out and Moody– that man silenced him."

Erick shook his head.

"Mel–"

A sharp pain spread from her leg to the rest of her body and she screamed. Her eyes teared up to the feeling of boiling water being thrown on her forehead. She hissed and closed her eyes, pressing both hands on her temples.

When she opened them again she wasn't in the tent, all she saw was gravestones, and she– but it didn't look like her body at all– was covered in blood from head to toe. There was someone on the ground a few feet away, and in front of her, a bundle of robes were laying on the damp grass while cold, monstrous red eyes were staring directly at her from them...

A second stab of pain caused her to lose balance, when she woke up she was covered in a cold sweat and Erick was gripping her shoulders. Dumbledore was there too, somehow. Maybe she'd shrieked loud enough for him to hear.

"Mel," He kneeled in front of her. "What happened?"

He asked it in the strangest way, like he knew something was going on but not the why– perhaps he'd recognized the symptoms. Mel couldn't care less about it, she heard herself speak through the pain.

"Harry's hurt..." She winced. "Voldemort."

She fainted after that.

Her skin felt like it was burning and she couldn't stay either fully awake or fully unconscious. Mel kept coming back to hear people talking around her but behind her eyelids, she'd see flashing lights and cauldrons bubbling with fresh blood.

While in her dream, she could feel nothing but utter fright and pain. She was both, scared for her life and unaware of her surroundings. It felt like being run over by a wave, floating aimlessly.

"B-blood of the enemy... forcibly taken... you will... resurrect your foe."

A knife cut through her skin and she screeched in agony. This had to be a fever dream, all the things she was seeing were all a lie, Harry was probably okay, maybe even out of the maze by now... A new wave hit her and the air left her lungs, she couldn't move...

But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.

"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Wormtail, sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one-handed over his master's head.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry... and Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils...

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

Back in the real world clear blue eyes were staring down at her, a large hand was on her forehead and he was talking, but she couldn't hear him over her own cries. It was torture. Dumbledore kept talking, during a moment of unnerving calmness, she was able to listen.

"What do you see?"

She gave up a bit, left her own mind wander.

"Their everywhere," She said, voice hoarse. "They're looking at us– looking at me... at him..."

"Is he there?" Dumbledore persisted. "Voldemort?"

"Am I... am I dreaming this?"

"Tell me what you see," The man ordered.

"They look like dementors," Mel choked out the words. "Wormtail's there..."

"Harry," He insisted. "Where is he?"

"I'm him," She cried. "It hurts... everything hurts..."

"He's alive?"

"I'm dying aren't I?" She whispered in fear.

Before anyone could answer, the pain came back in full force, her head felt like it would crack open at any moment.

"Mr Flint, please make sure no one enters, not even Madame Pomfrey."

"But Sir–"

"Do as I say," Dumbledore stood up and hovered above her.  "Focus on my words, Mel. What you're feeling doesn't belong in your body. Those are Harry's injuries, his thoughts–"

She cried in pain, holding onto the sheets tightly.

"You can make it go away," He said, almost yelling. "You can help, give him time so he can come back– help him, Mel."

"I CAN'T MOVE!" She yelled. The waves came one after the other and Mel couldn't think properly, she just wanted to leave it be and wait for it to be over...

"Push back," Dumbledore insisted. "If you wait too long his pain will become truly yours, you'll both die."

That only made her feel hopeless, she didn't know what to do.

"Listen to my voice, focus on your reality. You are okay."

Harry was out of the ropes and with his wand in hand. She opened her eyes again and in the middle of the clarity this moment gave her, she held tightly onto the closest thing she found -Dumbledore's hand- and fought desperately to remain conscious. Her legs curled up and she grounded her feet on the mattress.

"I'm here," She panted.

The pain left her abruptly, like waking up from a very vivid dream. She was tense but completely unharmed. She could still remember the feeling, if she were to close her eyes now, it would surround her entirely again.

"Brilliant, dear girl," Dumbledore said. "Bring Harry towards you– it'll help him, it'll give him a chance."

She sat up, needing to get rid of the drowsiness completely.

"Be louder," He said. "Go back, and make him listen to you."

Mel didn't know what that meant, but she closed her fists and eyes tightly again, one last time.

Harry's mind was blank.

"Just answer no... say no... just answer no...." Said an icy voice next to her ear.

"I will not," He said, fighting back. "I won't answer..."

Just answer no...

I won't do it, I won't say it... Just answer no...

"Harry," She spoke, though she couldn't quite hear a voice.

"Mel?" Harry asked, but she didn't hear his voice either, it was more like a thought. "Are you... are you real?"

"We don't have time," She replied. "Whatever he wants... don't do it."

"I'm tired..."

"Not for long," Mel felt her fists tighten on the sheets. She was fine, uninjured.

"Follow my voice, Harry... you'll feel better..."

'Who's that?' said what she could only assume was Voldemort's. 'This can't be...'

She focused on the way she was feeling, her mind was getting more and more clear by the second, she could breathe, and yet, he was still there... he'd followed her.

The pain vanished completely, but Harry's voice grew stronger.

"I WON'T!"

Harry's mind cleared.

"You won't?" said Voldemort quietly, and the Death Eaters were not laughing now. "You won't say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die... Perhaps another little dose of pain?"

He was ready this time, whatever Mel had done to restore his energies so the pain could go away a little had worked. He decided to do his best with it and threw himself onto the ground, he rolled behind the headstone of Voldemort's father and the curse missed him, bouncing off the stone.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry. You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out, Harry... come out and play, then... it will be quick... it might even be painless... I would not know... I have never died..."

Harry crouched behind the headstone and thought frantically, Mel had bought him time... for what?

There was no hope... no help to be had. And as he heard Voldemort draw nearer still, he knew one thing only, and it was beyond fear or reason: He was not going to die crouching here like a child playing hide-and-seek; he was not going to die kneeling at Voldemort's feet... he was going to die upright like his father, and he was going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defence was possible...

Before Voldemort could stick his snakelike face around the headstone, Harry stood up... he gripped his wand tightly in his hand, thrust it out in front of him, and threw himself around the headstone, facing Voldemort.

Voldemort was ready. As Harry shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Voldemort cried, "Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light issued from Voldemort's wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Harry's — they met in midair — and suddenly Harry's wand was vibrating as though an electric charge were surging through it; his hand seized up around it; he couldn't have released it if he'd wanted to — and a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold. Harry, following the beam with his astonished gaze, saw that Voldemort's long white fingers too were gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating.

And then — nothing could have prepared Harry for this — he felt his feet lift from the ground. He and Voldemort were both being raised into the air, their wands still connected by that thread of shimmering golden light. They glided away from the tombstone of Voldemort's father and then came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves... The Death Eaters were shouting; they were asking Voldemort for instructions; they were closing in, reforming the circle around Harry and Voldemort, the snake slithering at their heels, some of them drawing their wands —

The golden thread connecting Harry and Voldemort splintered; though the wands remained connected, a thousand more beams arced high over Harry and Voldemort, crisscrossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Death Eaters circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled now...

"Do nothing!" Voldemort shrieked to the Death Eaters, and Harry saw his red eyes wide with astonishment at what was happening, saw him fighting to break the thread of light still connect- ing his wand with Harry's; Harry held onto his wand more tightly, with both hands, and the golden thread remained unbroken. "Do nothing unless I command you!" Voldemort shouted to the Death Eaters.

And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air... It was coming from every thread of the light-spun web vibrating around Harry and Voldemort. It was a sound Harry recognized, though he had heard it only once before in his life: phoenix song.

Mel felt Harry's mind drifting away, but she was still able to feel him, he was using her vitality to keep himself steady, as long as he kept using it to stay alive, she would be able to see him.

Don't break the connection. She begged to him, though she was starting to feel weary. Hold onto your wand... and keep talking to me.

I know, Harry thought, I know I mustn't break it...

But his voice sounded a bit further away, she insisted desperately.

'Remember what we said– If you can pull through tonight you'll be back... please come back...'

It took a moment, but he spoke again.

'They're here,' He told her. 'Our parents.'

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha​ @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere​ @t-rexs-world

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

[captawesomesauce]

Thoughts at 1130pm...

Oh boy, you’re getting all of Capt.AwesomSauces thoughts tonight!!

This one is about AAPI hate... so don’t read the read more if you don’t wanna...

One of my biggest worries is about W’s safety considering where we are now is very MAGAland/Oathkeeper bullshit and frankly, that is very disconcerting to me.

We’ve already had one run in with a crazy/legit mentally disturbed neighbor and back in LA we had issues with a homeless person while I was with W, and it’s just... a thing. 

What is also a thing is the fact that W has 0 sense of awareness of her surroundings and danger. She pays it no attention, gives it no thought, it literally never crosses her mind. Which is weird, considering how safety-conscious she is about literally EVERYTHING... but that.

She is, unfortunately, a target.

Growing up a small jewish boy in a very neo-nazi part of Orange County taught me just what that’s like, and it’s second nature to me now.

I know how to defend myself, inasmuch as I know that I’m going to get hurt, probably badly, but I probably won’t die and the other person probably will.

That’s the thing self defense classes rarely explain, but after years and years as a firefighter and other things with uniforms... thats how these things go. Fights are never perfect, clean, or pretty... everyone gets hurt... the trick is to be the one less hurt, the one who can get away.

If a knife is involved, even if it is your knife.. expect to get cut. YOU WILL GET CUT... but if it’s your knife, you should control where and how bad you get cut.

Blunt objects, same thing.... you will get hit... and hurt, but have that control and be prepared for it.

No one who gets into a lot of fights ever walks away without a scratch...

If a gun is involved, all bets are off... the first person to hit the other wins usually. Guns are the great equalizer.

But carrying a gun is only legal in CA if you’re white, republican, and rich, and I’m none of those things. You know what else is illegal? Batons... which is weird to me.

So that leaves tasers and pepper spray. Tasers for the most part are either ineffective or too expensive. I haven’t found a good stun weapon to carry just yet, and tried a few.

What I do carry is a Mace Pepper spray gun 2.0 in my pocket and a separate smaller one on a keychain on my belt. I also have two knives and a personal alarm noisemaker thing I have W carry.

I’ve given it a lot of thought and the simple answer I came up with is, that if there were to be an issue... the 2.0 the first line as it gives me the farthest reach. I’d pull that out, and give the keychain to w and tell her to get away somewhere safe and call for help.

My worst fear is that she’d argue or stay with me, because the last thing anyone wants is to have to watch out for themselves and to keep tabs on another person. If she’s away/safe, I can focus on my own safety and my own retreat. Plus her having the extra pepper spray means she’s not defenseless.

After that, I also have the knives which are last resorts. ... with running and screaming for help coming way before ever wanting to use those. The whole point is to get away.. not hurt anyone!

And especially to keep W safe!

... here in AZ I also carry an expandable baton when we go out on walks... it’s good in case we come across an animal too. But it gives me another level of reach and intimidation.

Against someone with a gun, none of this is useful.. but not much I can do about that except stay vigilant, aware, and do our best to avoid ever needing any of this stuff. But we’ve all seen the news... attacks happen randomly, and if it’s just a brute force one... at least I know I can try to keep her safe from that.

#thoughts #aapi hate #violence

[xmalereader]

Jason Todd X Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

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@nightingales-posts

Requested: Hi, Hon💚 How are you doing? Could I please have a Jason Todd x Male Reader who is basically a Spiderman of DC Universe fic? (Ignore it if it sounds dumb😂)

Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of sex, mentions of rape, teasing, flirting.

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Gotham was one of the most dangerous cites of all and yet people decide to move there. Even if they hear rumors about people getting robbed or things about the joker going crazy ( again ) and wanting to blow up a building full of people and such. People still came, already knowing the consequences. But for Y/n, he didn’t care. He used to live in Gotham for short while before his parents moved out, once he reached an appropriate age he decided to move back, his own mother tried to force him to stay in the small country house that they were living in, but Y/n had to talk his mother out of it and allow him to go on his own and that he wasn’t a child anymore and can take care of himself.

So, he packed up everything and moved out into a really cheap apartment on the bad side of Gotham, and like he told his mother. He can take care of himself and its true he can.

Y/n was born as a metahuman, his parents were normal human beings but somehow Y/n ended up as the odd ball in the family and his parents never knew why. They didn’t know that he had powers but they did know that he was different in some weird way. He kept is a secret for years and during his weekends he would learn new things about himself and keep notes on it. Wanting to make sure that he learns control and not do something harsht to somethign or someone.

As he moved into his new apartmart he was able to get adjusted to the neighborhood and people and was able to learn a few things from them too, Writing them down in case he had too use it against them. He’s been living in Gotham city for a few years now to know who Batman was, he was quiet impressed when he hears about the small familiar trio. Y/n wasn’t one for causing trouble but he always felt great everytime he swung around the city, humming softly to himself as he checked his phone at the same time. His sense alerting him about something up ahead, looking up quickly he noticed a batarang coming towards his way, cutting the line as he gasps and tumbles down on a roof. Groaning deeply as he placed a hand on his side. “Thats gonna hurt in the morning....” he whines out and adjusts his own mask on and puts his phone away.

He gets up from the ground and wobbled a little but quickly regains his balance, he’s fallen many times but this one came as a surprise which caused him to land on his side and Hurt himself. “Well the rumors are try, some freak trying to copy the bats huh?” Y/n looks up to see the famous red hood, gripping a knife in hand as he stands in front of Y/n with his hand on his hip. “I’m not trying out copy anyone.” Y/n groans out and glared under his mask.

Red hood tilts his head to their side with a frown, “Then why you wearing a mask?” He questions, grinning at the other male. Y/n dusts himself off and sighs. “I just need a suit to stay hidden because from what I heard, little Batman and his sidekicks don’t like meta humans—“ Redhoods eyes widen and was about to pin down this guy once he mentioned metahumans but was stopped when he felt something land on his hand, attaching itself to the balcony. “The fuck?” He mumbles out. “—before you do anything, let me finish.” Y/n approached red hood and looks down at his gloves, adjusting his own webbing. He webs red hood down and placed his own hands on his hips, mocking him. “I’m not like others, I’m not stealing and neither am I hurting anyone. I’m just getting adjusted to everything and letting myself get loose, kind of like walking or running when you are bored.”

“The hell is this stuff?!”

Y/n lets his head drop, letting out a deep sigh as he groans. “You aren’t listening, but yet you people never listen.” He matters through clenched teeth. Feeling a slight buzz on his hip, he reached inside his pocket and pulled out this phone. His alarm was going off telling him that it was curfew, yes he gave himself a curfew even though he’s twenty-five. “Thats me.” He puts his phone away once he turned off his alarm. “I have to go, the webbing will dissolve in an hour or two.” He explains, ignoring the others protest as he approached the edge of the roof and smirks, winking at him before jumping off.

Red hood was left on the rooftop, still stuck onto the roof. “I’m gonna kill him.” He growls out and calls for back up. He expected nightwing to show up but instead he got robin who only grinned and teased him. “I thought you were deadlier then me but somehow you got someone to get to you.” He bends down to cut off the webbing from his shoes, frowning he asks. “What is this stuff?” Redhood sighs and puts his blade away, bending down to take a sample of the webbing. “Some guy left me tied up here, best we take a sample and see what the hell this is.”

“Was that coming out of him?” Robin scrunched up his nose in disgust as redhood smirks at the younger robin. “Want to know what he did to me?” He wiggled his brows but robin only smacked him in the face.

—

It’s been three weeks since Y/n last ran into redhood, he was much more careful at nights now since he knew that they would go out looking for him. He would sometimes leave after the sun had set, giving him extra time to stretch out his legs and test out his new abilites. One night he was swinging down a building, landing on top he smiles at his success. “Yes perfect landing!” He tells himself before he’s being tackled down. “What the hell?!”

“Save spider boy.” Redhood was pinning him down, sitting on top of his back as he held y/n’s arms behind his back as well. “Oh god, if your going to rape me I swear—“ Red raised a brow, “What? No!” He exclaims, his grip loosening. Y/n took the opportunity to turn around and kick red off his back, doing a quick backflip he gets up from the ground. “Made you lose.” He teased, stepping back as Red groans from the ground. “You really are a pain in the ass.”

“Well no one told you to follow me!” Y/n shouts back, pouting in between.

Redhood rolls his eyes, “Just want to know who and what you are.” Y/n tilts his head to the side and hums. “Yeah no, you could’ve approached me like a normal human being but instead I get pinned down.”

“You were swinging to fast!!”

Y/n had his arms crossed over his chest as he thinks about this for a second before letting out a deep sigh. “You can call me scarlet or hex.” Red chuckled. “Seriously?”

“Just call me whatever you want okay?!” Y/n throws his hands in the air and exclaimed, groaning in frustration. Glaring at the other.

Red smirks and shakes his head. “Ill call you web boy since you can web people onto walls and such.” He teased which only earned him a glare from the other, he extends his hand out and webs red to the wall that he was leaning Against. “What—?” Red struggles agaisnt the webbing, once again. Y/n walks up to him and hums, reaching up to remove the res mask that he was wearing. “Oh smart, you wear a double mask under this thing?” Y/n says with a laugh and sets down the helmet. “You know, you’re quiet attractive but also and asshole.” He leans close to red.

Their faces were only inches away, “Don’t follow me again.” He held Redhood breath against his face before stepping away from the others personal space. “Remember, Wait two hours-“

“for two webbing to dissolve.” Red finishes for him.

Y/n smirks and picks up the others helmet, “Good boy.” He teases him before placing a kiss agaisnt the helmet and slipping it back onto reds head. “See you soon.” He calls out as he once again disappears into the night.

Jason sighs deeply, already having the hots for the other. He makes sure that his comms are on before calling the others for some backup. But this time everyone came to see Jason webbed up agaisnt the wall. “Again?” Damian raised a brow with a glare. “Sure your not pissing off this guy for no reason? Or just messing with him for fun Jason.” Says dick as he cuts him free. Jason grumbles at his brothers. “that’s none of your business.” He hissed out. Dick only smiles at Jason, “Looks like someone is flirting with the spider boy.” Tim coos out, shaping his hands out into a heart and smirking. “Your dead!” Jason shouts as he chased around the other robin on the rooftop.

#batman #bruce wayne xmale reader #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #jason todd #dick grayson #dick grayson x male reader #tim drake x male reader #damain wayne

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #19- Ambulon and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

We got a major reveal at the end of last issue, and now it’s time to put the rest of the pieces together so we can finally understand the mystery that is the Ultra Magnus situation.

So back when Magnus’ seemingly lifeless body stole a shuttle, fucked off into space and landed on the moon, Tyrest was there to greet him.

And by “greet him”, I mean punch through the windshield and carry him bridal style, as if he weighed no more than a baby bird, into his moon base.

Pharma did his thing with his crazy new hands, Magnus was saved, and he woke up shortly after his lifesaving operation. Then Tyrest punched Magnus in the face, because fuck the healing process. He’s an engineer, not a doctor, he doesn’t deal with the SOUL and FEELINGS or anything like that.

In the here and now, Rodimus is still trying to comprehend the fact that his SIC isn’t dead, and is also actually another, much smaller guy with a mustache. Minimus Ambus attempts to explain just what the hell is going on, and we get back to our flashback.

After some good old-fashioned face violence, Tyrest showed Magnus around the place, specifically the terminal he’d set up for his on-the-fly, real-time law amending. With how many war crimes the Cybertronian race has committed in the last several million years, I’m sure it was needed.

Dang, wonder who pissed off Big Brother.

Magnus is more concerned about how it is exactly he isn’t dead right now, and also why his boss looks like a swiss cheese party platter.

Turns out that Tyrest isn’t actually mad at Magnus, just disappointed. He went and read his diary while the operation was happening, and in the 18 months that the Knight Quest has been running, Tyrest has deemed the work done to be unsatisfactory. Instead of arresting criminals, Magnus had been handling infractions so minor, most people wouldn’t have even noticed them. Tyrest doesn’t know where he went wrong.

Well, Tyrest, it was probably the anxiety that manifested itself as OCD, because you picked someone without factoring what the end of the war might do to them. Magnus needs structure to flourish, and if he cannot find it, he will make it himself. I mean, look at all this:

No wonder he was struggling on the chaos engine that is the Lost Light.

Still, Tyrest wants nothing to do with someone who’s cracked under the pressure (lack of pressure?) and the deal was that Magnus only got to be Magnus if he did what Tyrest wanted. Tyrest divests him with the literal push of a button.

Good grief, he’s naked!

As Minimus Ambus mourns over the loss of his stature, both literal and position-wise, we get back to the present, in a double-page spread no less, as Minimus tells everyone about the storied history of the Magnus Armor. Ultra Magnus was originally an actual person, but then he died, and Tyrest was kind of bummed out about that, so he decided to make up a lie (lying, while perhaps morally dubious is not illegal, so he’s allowed to do that) that Magnus faked his death, and then built the armor. There were at least a few wearers of the armor prior to Minimus, some of who were even known by the other crew members. Whenever someone got offed, their hand would spasm and press a recall button in their palm, which would bring the Magnus Armor, and the dead body inside, back to Tyrest.

You can tell he’s still real shaken up about losing the Magnus Armor, because he’s truncating his words. Poor guy.

Minimus asks what exactly happened after he got stabbed, seeing as he was too busy dying to really pay attention to the Overlord plot. Rodimus tells him it’s been handled. Brainstorm jumps in, wanting to know about the other things on Minimus’ resume, which leads into Minimus revealing the fact that he is a Point One Percenter, and something known as a Load Bearer. Load Bearers circumvent that niggling little issue that we saw presented in the “Shadowplay” arc, where spark strain due to not being able to handle a different frame type would outright kill you. Minimus doesn’t have that problem.

Tailgate wants to know how exactly it is that Minimus isn’t dead, seeing as he was clearly on his way out prior to his grand theft auto. Tailgate may have a personal interest in that sort of information, what with still being terminal and all.

Everyone’s real handsy this issue.

Minimus lets Tailgate know that Tyrest’s medical equipment is off the hook, and we get a reminder that Tailgate’s got basically a day left to live. Harsh, Roberts.

Back in Minimus’ flashback, Tyrest sort-of apologizes for punching him in the face, and laments on the loss of one of his greatest Enforcers of the Tyrest Accord.

Oh, so you DID know that this was a possibility, and instead of ordering your subordinate to go make that follow-up appointment with the only therapist on Cybertron- which, while being borderline sectioning, would have at least kept Minimus from sending emails to Rodimus about how he was spiraling- you just let it happen. The Vector Sigma pulse wave went all over the galaxy, there’s zero possibility you didn’t hear about the end of the war before Magnus loaded up on the Lost Light and didn’t call for a year and a half.

Anyway, so Tyrest’s got a new Enforcer lined up, seeing as he’s going to retire the Magnus Armor after all the shenanigans Minimus got dragged through while wearing it. Let’s see what we’re working with.

I thought we were supposed to have separation of church and state, what the hell?

In the present, Rodimus has questions, mainly about why there are so many people in this prison cell. Minimus admits that he asked to be put in here, to try and prove Rodimus and friends’ innocence on the charge of harboring a criminal, by recording their conversation and proving that they had no idea what SKIDS deal was.

Yep, Skids did a bad, and Tyrest wants him in jail.

Minimus also drops the bomb that everyone else in this cell is going to get he death penalty for that whole “crimes against creation” thing. I mean, all Tyrest has to do is wait for a little while and Tailgate will be dealt with, no sweat.

Minimus pulls a device out of his hip compartment, uses it to disrupt the electro-bars of the cell (it’s cool, he was an undercover cop for this whole thing and can therefore break out of prison without it being a crime), and goes to have a chat with his boss about all the weird new stuff he’s shoved into the Autobot Code in the last year and a half. Rodimus doesn’t really want him to leave, but there’s no time for that, because the cell just got a little more full.

Uh oh, Swerve’s badge has gone missing again. Rung, why don’t you slap yours on his crotch, that way Minimus won’t try to murder him when he gets back?

While this is happening, Whirl and Cyclonus are standing on the rim of a smelting pool, absolutely not having a dick measuring contest.

Luna 1 said Bi Rights.

There’s a structure built over the pool that looks an awful lot like living quarters, but is probably actually a prison that violates the Geneva convention. Whirl suggests they find some weapons and go hog-wild, but Cyclonus is more concerned about finding something. When Whirl asks what in the hell he could possibly be looking for in this sort of crisis, Cyclonus turns into a moody teenager.

Well, at least he’s respecting Tailgate’s wish to keep his looming demise under wraps. Not that Cyclonus tells anyone anything anyway.

Over in the Luna 1 medibay, Ratchet is being subjected to having his very fucking soul threatened with a paring knife. Pharma’s having what probably an inappropriate amount of fun, especially since he’s realized that Ratchet took his goddamn hands after the shitshow that was Delphi.

It turns out that every single piece of tech that Ultra Magnus ever repossessed is floating around on Luna 1, even the stuff that really ought to have been destroyed. This is why they were able to save Magnus from certain death at the start of the issue. Somehow I’m not surprised that Tyrest kept all those toys for himself. Corruption of an authority figure? In my Cybertronian Justice System? It’s more likely than you think.

Some of the little art quirks in MTMTE are added in by Milne- see Brainstorm holding any handgun ever if you’d like an example- but I know for a FACT that Pharma humping Ratchet’s headless body was specified by Roberts.

Ratchet, unimpressed and likely mildly queasy by the display going on before him, proposes that Pharma’s afraid of failure, which is why he hasn’t taken his hands back. Pharma disagrees, and a wager is set to see who the better doctor is- winner gets to keep the hands.

Over with the fly boys, alarms are going off in a deserted building, as Whirl struggles to open a door with his claws. Cyclonus takes over on door duty, and asks why Whirl hasn’t gotten his shit fixed yet.

Whirl’s worried that if he gets help for his trauma, he’s going to lose a huge part of himself as a person, and then where will he be? Of course, he says it in a much more Whirly fashion, full of vitriolic self-blame, but reading between the lines is fun. Whirl fires the “let’s get into each other’s personal issues even though both of us hate talking about ourselves and also each other” missile right back at Cyclonus. He wants to know about Cyclonus’ facial situation.

Cyclonus doesn’t like this question.

Then he gets stabbed with a sword.

Back with the docs, it’s apparently much later, as Ratchet’s just woken up from surgery and has a body again. He gets up from the operating table and finds that Pharma’s gone ahead with setting up their gentleman’s wager.

First Aid seems less than pleased with the current situation. Ambulon’s arms are long as hell in this panel, and he doesn’t seem entirely present in the moment. Maybe he’s practicing Rungian Re-Experience Therapy.

Pharma wants to cut both of the boys in half to see who can put the pieces together back the fastest. Ratchet tries to deescalate the situation, because he’s usually pretty good at it, but Pharma’s set on using his chainsaw attachment on someone today.

Ratchet attempts to console his coworkers, saying that their Springer-on-Pova treatment be over soon, and they’ll get a nice lollipop at the end for being such brave little robots.

Then Pharma cuts Ambulon in half, in a way that Ratchet hadn’t accounted for.

We’re gonna need a little more than some bandaids and a kiss to make it feel better for this one. It’s amazing what censorship laws will let you get away with when the blood isn’t red.

Speaking of blood, Cyclonus is more or less okay with being stabbed, because Whirl did him a solid and chopped his assailant in half- lengthways- with a super sweet sword he found in the armory they just opened up. Cyclonus pulls the blade out of his midriff and we finally find out what happened to the Circle of Light.

Back in the prison cell, Perceptor’s been given the job of doctor, even though Rung, Swerve, and Chromedome are all here and at least somewhat closer to being general practice doctors than our science sniper.

Seems like Swerve filled everyone in on the situation on the Lost Light off-panel, which is good, because they’ve been in the dark up to this point.

Chromedome hypothesizes that the reason Skids is a wanted man has to do with that mysterious gun he was holding when he fell out of the sky all the way back in issue #2. This is the point where Skids wakes up from his stabbing and admits that this is probably what happened, even though he still has no recollection of ever stealing the gun or even it existing up until he entered the story, but he apologizes for the trouble anyway.

Shh.  Someone’s coming down the corridor. It’s Star Saber, and he’s brought yet another prisoner to stuff in this cell.

And there’s something else. Can you hear it?

Is… is that music?

Are those the beginning synth riffs of “Tainted Love" by Soft Cell?

Over with Minimus, we’re treated to a taste of Tyrest’s personal brand of disinterest, then get a quick run-down of the birds and the bees. The forging process is a little more convoluted than originally implied, needing Primus to send out a pulse wave through Vector Sigma in order for the Hot Spots to be ignited.

Then the pulse waves started to slow down, Nova Prime had a little freak out, and cold construction was invented to prevent the Cybertronian race from becoming an endangered species.

Minimus of course knows all of this, because he, like basically half of the cast of MTMTE, is old as shit. What he DOESN’T know is that cold construction isn’t managed the way that anyone thought that it was, because there was a government coverup going on about the whole thing. You don’t splice sparks to make a new one, you use the Matrix to create new life.

I know, it’s crazy.

Tyrest was on the team that fiddled around with the Matrix until it started spitting out robot zygotes, and he’s now convinced that they bled the Matrix dry. Nobody tell him what happened to the thing after the war ended.

Wait. If the pulse waves have stopped, and the Matrix is busted beyond repair, doesn’t that mean they can’t make any more Transformers? Once they finish up on their stockpile of sparks, that’s it. No more. The Transformers are a protected species now, we’ve got to treat them like giant pandas.

One of his team members stole the Matrix and hid it in the black market, so its strange, mystical baby powers could never be used again. Except someone obviously found it later on, because we have half of it on the Lost Light. Minimus isn’t sure why any of this is actually relevant to the current situation, or why Tyrest feels guilty about pulling a Eugenesis Fulcrum and finding out where babies come from.

Tyrest is convinced that by draining the Matrix, his team somehow corrupted it, and all the sparks made by this corrupted Matrix are straying further and further from Primus. This is why Rodimus and friends have been charged with crimes against creation- some of their party were created in a way that predisposes them to crime. Or so Tyrest thinks.

I thought we were supposed to have separation of church and state, what the hell? This is still the same guy who was appointed as Chief Justice by the space pope because of his levelheadedness, right?

Yes, actually, but this sudden flip in priorities and personality has been induced by the guilt he felt during the Aequitas trials. Tyrest turned to self harm to deal with the weight of it all, and one day tried to go for what in most species would have been a suicide, by drilling with his drill fingers into the spot between his eyes. Instead, he most likely gave himself a lobotomy and became a religious zealot, fully believing that the gods are real, and he can go visit them by using his super-cool space portal.

Outside the moon base, Whirl and Cyclonus have freed the Circle of Light, and everyone’s ready to kick some ass. Both the fly boys have found themselves a Great Sword to play with, further cementing Cyclonus as our replacement Drift. Rodimus will be so thrilled.

Dai Atlas, the leader of the Circle of Light, tells our boys that there used to be a lot more of his group, but a lot of folks ended up being used to build Legislators.

Hm. I’m sure that’ll never be brought up again, and won’t paint future events in a much darker light. Nope. Absolutely not.

Cyclonus thinks that they need to get a move on, because if that sort of horrific shit can happen to the Circle of Light, it can also happen to Tailgate and the others. He does specifically name Tailgate in his dialogue, but it’s not like he actually cares about the guy, right? Feelings are for nerds.

Then the Legislators show up and it’s party time.

Wonder how that’s going to work out for you, Whirl.

Back with Tyrest, it’s revealed that Tyrest’s plan has a small snag- only people completely absolved of their guilt can go to Cyberutopia to hang out with Primus and the gang, and Tyrest is feeling awful guilty. Not about his weird space-eugenics thing, but about inventing cold construction. Now, how in the world is he going to handle this?

By committing a genocide.

Minimus is, understandably, not a fan of this plan. Tyrest had anticipated that the Universal Killswitch wouldn’t be universally appreciated, and has some of the new law come into play.

And that’s a series wrap on Minimus Ambus! Let’s give him a hand, folks!

#transformers #jro #jro punches me in the face #mtmte #remain in light #issue 19 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

[pynkhues]

What’s you top 5 unpopular good girls ships?

I am eternally blessed, anon, because all my ships for Good Girls are pretty popular, haha. I’m all about Beth x Rio, Ruby x Stan, Dean x Suffering, Boomer x Grievous Bodily Harm! Even my non-canon ships like Annie x Nancy or Annie x JT are pretty popular! 

So instead, I’m offering you five crack ships and I’ve written the scenarios where I think they could work, because I am a glutton for punishment, haha. One of them I actually want to write, but I’m not going to say which, because I don’t want anyone to peer pressure me into writing it, hahaha. (I have way too many WIPs!)

Below a cut to save your feeds.

1. Krystal x Lucy

Okay, SO, I accidentally wrote them into the pornstar au, and ever since the thought came to me, it’s latched on like a parasite! I love the thought of them both having someone in their corner in the way that we sort of know they don’t? Lucy really needed somebody who could fight for her and was more clued into the world than either herself or Max, and Krystal pretty clearly needs someone who’s kind to her. Plus Krystal would edge out some of Lucy’s cutesyness, while Lucy would ground Krystal, and idk! I just think they’d be cute!

Okay, scenario though – I’m thinking the Hill’s have a Christmas party. Lucy and Max have recently broken up and Beth feels bad for her, so invites her to be her plus-one (or, well, plus seventh after Rio and the kids), and the gesture’s a nice one, but Beth is instantly distracted by helping Ruby get the food out or with Jane and Marcus inevitably causing havoc, and so Lucy ends up wallflowering, watching everyone else just - - know each other, right? 

And maybe Krystal sees her and maybe she’s a few drinks in already, so it’s not like it takes much to grab another cup of spiked eggnog and tumble against the wall beside Lucy. And maybe it’s awkward at first, because Lucy’s sort of weird, but maybe Krystal kind of likes that, and maybe Lucy compliments Krystal’s ugly snowman earrings, and Krystal really does think Lucy’s reindeer sweater is cute, and maybe Lucy falls a little in love when Krystal sings bawdy Christmas songs, her arm slung over Ruby’s shoulder, and Krystal falls a little in love when Lucy is unfairly good at drunk pictionary, and maybe it feels like they’ve known each other a lot longer than a night (and maybe they want to make sure they will). 

2. Mick x Mary Pat. 

Okay, okay, okay. Hear me out. 

So it finally happens. Rio finds out who Mary Pat is, what she’s done – that she’s Beth’s rotten egg – and y’know, Rio isn’t playing around anymore. He wants to send Beth a message, and what better way to do that than to handle the third person she couldn’t after Turner and Boomer? So he sends Mick off with an order.

And so Mick watches for a few days – keeps an eye on her schedule, her routine, carving out a plan to handle her as smoothly as possible (he’s not Rio after all, he doesn’t hand guns to women he’s just kidnapped, y’know?) – and starts to get a sense of her. Sure, maybe he feels a little bad. She has a lot of kids, y’know? And always seems pretty frazzled, at the end of her rope, but sort of sweet. She goes to church, sings in a choir, makes pancakes from a box, sure, but she adds both choc chips and blueberries which is a pretty good combo, and maybe it’s hard to believe she’s swept up in all of this, but then it was hard to believe Mrs Boland and that sweet girl from Paper Porcupine had been too. 

Still, Mick knows what he’s doing, y’know? 

He’s not Rio. He’ll finish the job.

So he steals into her house late at night, moving down to her bedroom, intending to take her outside, handle her away from the kids at least, when suddenly a wild Mary Pat appears! Brandishing a huge knife. 

Mick staggers back! Alarmed, and Mary Pat thrusts it at him, knowing exactly how long he’s been watching her and what does he think she is??? NEW to this??? She worked with the FBI! Okay, not --  not worked with them, but y’know, an agent was on her case for a while, and Mary Pat is not as stupid as her Uncle Larry told her that one time, and okay, Mick thinks, staggering back into his seat, eyes fixed on the knife Mary Pat is waving around at him. 

You wanna talk this out? 

It’s the wrong thing to say, because no, she doesn’t especially, and they just sort of stare at each other for a minute, trying to figure out what happens next when Billy wakes up and trots down the hallway, and he’s had a bad dream about the bad man, and for a minute, Mick thinks he’s talking about him, but then Mary Pat says something about how Boomer won’t ever step foot in this house again, and with the way she’s holding that knife, Mick is inclined to believe her. 

And then, well, Billy asks for pancakes. 

So that’s how Mick ends up eating pancakes with Mary Pat and three of her four kids at 2 in the morning, and y’know, he’s not a total asshole. He’s going to stay and help her clean up afterwards, and maybe it’s sort of nice, now that she’s put the knife down (although it is still in reaching distance, and honestly, he respects that), now that his gun’s back in his pants. 

And well, he can’t exactly kill a woman who just made him pancakes, so he figures next time, only next time, Mary Pat’s already cooking, and then the time after that, she’s already set him a plate, and maybe the time after that, she kisses him, and maybe the time after that, he kisses her first, and at least when Rio asks, Mick can just give him a look, because it isn’t like he doesn’t have his own batshit crazy mother of four he can’t kill. 

3. Rhea x Phoebe. 

So, y’know. Phoebe’s good at her job. 

Phoebe knows how to do a stakeout, to keep tabs, to collect intel. She revels in every part of the chase, every part of the puzzle, every part of the game of it all, because she knows that what she’s doing is right, she’s cleaning up the streets! Making the world a better place! But - - okay, she’ll be the first to admit that she already finds her marks exhausting.

Not so much Hill and Marks. They’re sort of fun to keep tabs on (and lowkey, Phoebe really does maybe daydream sometimes about what it might be like to sit on the couch and watch bad reality shows with them, drinking cheap wine and creamy, herb crusted cheeses). Even Boland is kind of awesome when she’s not with him. 

Because the thing is, as soon as Boland and the Big Kahuna are together, everything just gets a little - - hm. What’s the word for it? 

(”Nothing like watching a crime lord pull pigtails,” Henry had said on one stakeout, headphones on as they’d watched from afar as Big Kahuna had swung in close to Boland, said something that made her flush red and try to stamp on his foot. “Can’t wait until they graduate to passing notes. At least then there might be something we can use.”) 

And, well. It’s not like he’s wrong.

So maybe she starts to get bored of watching the highschool antics of them (as has everyone else, she thinks, if the looks on their faces is anything to go by - including the hitman clearly trying to take one, or both of them out [and please, a little part of Phoebe thinks, watching as Big Kahuna drags a finger across the back of Boland’s knuckles, and Boland wait until he’s gone to order the most expensive liquor in the bar to Big Kahuna’s tab]). Maybe that makes her dig a little deeper. 

Maybe that’s how she finds herself watching an under-9′s soccer game in a fold-out chair beside Big Kahuna’s baby mama. (She tells her she’s researching, so it’s not technically a lie, even if the cover of starting to coach a team of her own in the fall is a thin one).

And okay, maybe they hit it off. Which is kind of cool, Phoebe thinks, because it turns out Rhea is kind of cool (how she put up with Big Kahuna is a total mystery to her), and y’know, she’s actually pretty? LIke, pretty pretty. And nice, and totally normal, and maybe they get a coffee after the game, and catch a movie on the weekend, and maybe sometimes Phoebe forgets to fish about Big Kahuna at all, but that’s an easy mistake to make, and maybe Henry gives her a Look when he hears about it, but it’s nothing, Phoebe thinks.

She’s just doing her due diligence. 

Being thorough, y’know? 

I mean, who even knows when information could come out, and Phoebe’s just laying the groundwork anyway, she thinks, watching the line of Rhea’s neck, the purse of her lips, blinking rapidly when Rhea leans across the table, the curve of her breast visible beneath the thin fabric of her shirt, and says: “I know you’re a fed.” 

And Phoebe splutters as Rhea keeps leaning forwards. 

“I’m not going to tell you anything about him.” 

And what can Phoebe say except okay, something in her chest tightening at - - at what, Phoebe has no idea. Just knows that Rhea’s so close she can feel the other woman’s breath on her cheek.  

“I just want to be clear about that,” she tells her. “If we’re going to do this.” 

And Phoebe blinks, owlish at Rhea, pulse rapid and mouth dry as she asks: “Do what?” 

And well, it turns out Phoebe likes Rhea even more when she’s kissing her.

4. Greg x Dr. Josh.

Okay, so maybe two things happen. 

Maybe it’s a party of something when Annie finally turns around and tells Greg about kissing her therapist, and honestly, Greg shouldn’t be surprised. This is what Annie does, after all, and telling her off never really gets him anywhere, so he pours them both another drink, and - - sure, maybe another. 

Then maybe a few more. 

Because it’s just like they’re in this loop, y’know? Him and her. Like she fucks up and it’s not like she expects him to clean up after her (he’s not Beth), but it’s like there’s something in Annie where she needs him to know about it, and that just really gets to him sometimes, because like, Annie’s not his responsibility just because they have a kid together. Besides, he has Nancy now, so it’s not like he needs Annie, and even thinking about Nancy sort of makes him want to go and find her, so then he’s drunkenly stumbling around this party, looking for that cape of perfect blonde hair, and okay, maybe that’s when the second thing happens.

Annie. Nancy. Closet. Necking. Maybe a shirt’s off? There’s a lot of like - - like mouths and hand stuff and Greg slams the door shut and maybe goes and lies on the grass outside for a while. 

And okay, maybe it’s not a surprise either. Maybe this is also what Annie does too, but still, he stews on it, and then stews on it some more, and so what if he interrogates Ben for this therapist’s address, because like - - hadn’t Annie been going to him for months? How could this guy make everything worse. 

And sure, maybe storming into the guy’s office, drunk on anger this time instead of beer, isn’t the best idea, but he’s just - - pissed, y’know? And maybe he yells at the guy about where he gets off, kissing patients. Making his patients kiss his wife, and okay, the guy’s pale at first, but then is sort of nice, and they sit on the beanbags and talk for a bit about Hurricane Annie, and actually, he’s finished work for the day, so maybe they should go get a beer or whatever? 

And maybe later, when Josh drops a nervous hand to his knee and awkwardly closes the distance between them, when Greg’s kissing back, he does sort of wonder if he and Annie won’t always be pulling from the same pool. 

5. Turner x Noah. 

Come on. We all saw s2. There’s no way Turner didn’t offer a, ahem, hand to help Noah get over Annie. 

#oh my god #this got so long #hahahaha #rip me #anyway #these were extremely fun to write #should i tag the pairings? #or should i leave them a surprise? #maybe i'll just tag the characters haha #jimmy turner #noah #greg #dr josh cohen #mary pat #mick #annie marks #nancy #beth boland #rio #phoebe donnegan #rhea #lucy #krystal #my fic #kind of #welcome to my ama #ask memes #Anonymous

[shadowsfascination]

Sonamy (YAAU) - coming to terms [Chapter 15-A]

“You don’t have to let this get the best of you, you know?” The words cut the silence like a knife, breaking the vacuum of his daydreams, breaking in abruptly in the tormenting whirlwinds that were his mind lately. 

“What are you talking about?” Sonic asked in an emotionless way.   “Come on, hedgehog. You’re a mess ever since-“ “Don’t! Don’t say it,” Sonic snarled at the scientist.   “So you do acknowledge it?” “I just have to forget about it.”    Sonic turned his head around, just to shift his gaze to another point. He was sitting on a grassy slope, resting on his hands. The wide view over the green hills was amazing and the breeze that brought a gentle chill softly stroked the grasslands like a carpet. It was the most peaceful place Sonic knew and the most rest he could give his mind was here. Eggman kept standing behind him, staring into the open himself now too. It was one of the few times that the hedgehog and the scientist could share a serious moment without any rivalry.  Even while he had not verbalized his thoughts, Sonic could feel he was denying himself and kind of hated that it took someone else to make him realize that.   “Can you do that, though?” “I don’t know”

It had been six weeks and three, no- four, days ago when the team had split up in duo’s to investigate the widely stretched cave tunnels to learn more about their enemy in order to come up with a detailed battle plan against the A.R. Sonic remembered very well how many weeks and days had passed since then because it had awakened something in him that had taken him by surprise. During that particular investigation Shadow had teamed up with Espio, who had enjoyed each other’s quiet working style. Tails and Eggman teamed up, Knuckles with Rouge and Sonic with Amy.   The blue and pink duo had been sneaking around in the tunnels, following some A.R. members but stumbled upon a dead end in one of the tunnels. Similar to the dead end in the Cabbureine warehouse, the A.R.-members disappeared, appearing to use Chaos energy to teleport somewhere. The difference here was that this teleportation act seemed to be working for them only and so Sonic and Amy were stuck in the tunnel when all of the sudden tens of armed A.R.-members showed up in front of them, blocking their way out. They engaged in battle with Sonic and Amy, trying to seize Sonic and teleport him with them, but Amy merged into battle and knocked some of them down. Sonic had known Amy’s strength for so long that there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she would be able to handle it. That was, before he was introduced to the dark side of the A.R. in person. Sure, he’d seen the destruction they’d created in the cities and all, but their vicious ways of relentlessly hurting the ones in front of them like this… It was new to him and it shocked him to his very core.   Amy was brutally shot in her leg and chained to a rock while being held at gunpoint. With her out of the way, they turned to Sonic, aiming a high-energy gun at him, pressuring him to leave her and surrender to them. If he’d resist, they’d finish her off – slowly. Whatever business they had with him, he still didn’t know. 

They promised him they would torture her before his very eyes until death would befall her if he was playing games with them. And so, astonished by the sight of his crippled dear friend, screaming, bleeding heavily and crying until she passed out, he gave in. They handcuffed him with special equipment that was supposed to block any Chaos energy in his body, but when he was given a preview of their sickening promise, he snapped. Even without any Chaos emeralds near and the energy is his body being blocked, in a split-second the spines on his head and back curled up and darkened while sharp fingernails and teeth clasped into his enemy.  With an uncontrolled, raging roar he smashed big rocks onto the heads of the A.R.-members, scratching their limbs until the blood was seeping out of it, colouring the place violently red. The screams were blocked from his ears while he was raging and attacking everyone one who was trying to destroy the one he loved. After killing all but one, he cornered the remaining enemy and ordered them to report this to their chef, as an example of what would happen if they pulled something like this again in the future. The remaining soldier was in awe of what he had witnessed, but smiled confidently at Sonic. Unnerving and uneasy it had made him feel, doubting whether this had been a set-up all along.  

Sonic rushed over to break Amy’s chains, ripped a piece of her clothes to stop her leg from bleeding and let out a powerless whimper.  The now unconscious woman in his arms was weak from the harm they had intentionally caused her and he was overcome by so much fear at once that it just hurt. His chest cramped and he started to feel this tingling sensation in his fingers. He was going to lose her because he wasn’t strong enough, hadn’t been fast enough. Before realizing it, he was crying like a baby, uncontrollably and loud. He clamped his body against hers roughly, burying her face in his chest, wetting everything with his sobbing. When the sparkly vision between his lashes focussed on the device on his wrist, he pulled back, wiped his tears away and closed his eyes. Tails’ device was able to transfer Chaos energy to heal her, something he’d never done before. Sonic held Amy’s hand, inhaled deeply and concentrated. A strong power and comforting warmth rushed through him. His surrounding slowly faded as he let the light of the Chaos take him wherever was needed, lifting them off the ground into and endless ocean of lights. The lights drew closer to them one by one, each and every one carrying a memory of him and Amy. Some of which he had forgotten they took place. Overtaken by this transcendent experience, his mind became peaceful again and his body relaxed. His heart overflowed with warmth and a confidence so strong: he loved her deeply. And with that confession the peace was gone again, and replaced by a fear that she had been able to feel what he felt, but she wasn’t awake yet.    After that, Shadow had stormed in, alarmed by the many unknown markers that had showed up in the map where Sonic and Amy were. He had had taken her from him and took her home in his arms while Amy looked back at Sonic over her shoulder and he stared into the blooded cave, zoned out about all of it.  

And now everything had changed. Ever since this whole fiasco he had felt it so strong and now it was undeniable: he had romantic feelings for someone! And not just someone, Amy for Chaos’ sake! Amy, who had been crazy about him for years when they were teens. Amy who has been dating Shadow for almost a year now. Amy, his friend. He never pictured his life without Amy, but it now dawned to him that there was this urge to have her with him in a whole other way and he did not know how to act around anyone at the moment. He had just forgotten how he would normally act and therefore avoided most of his friends. Shame fell on him that he was in love with his friend, the girlfriend of his other friend and he was ashamed of the massacre he made in the cave. It left him running in circles through the Green Hills in attempt to clear his mind, but his mind didn’t clear. The fog didn’t lift and so he stared into the wind on this cliff, talking to Eggman.   “It might go away over time.” Sonic sighed. “Can you wait that long?” “What’s the alternative?” “I happened to find this document while we were exploring. I didn’t show it to Tails.” If he didn’t show it to Tails it was sure to be something suspicious. He handed Sonic an old, brown piece of paper that was folded twice and smelled like the dirt of the cave. Sonic unfolded and read it, slowly raising one of his brows in disbelief.   “Do you really believe this crap? That the red emerald can take away my feelings for her? Why would it work like that?” “Not just take away, it would store them inside the gem, forever. You of all people shouldn’t be the one to whom I’d have to explain this to.”   He already knew that the emerald did not only transfer energy, but also could connect with one’s feelings. He’d seen it happen, like when Eggman used the hatred of the Echidna tribe to destroy Station Square with Chaos. In fact, he had experienced it many times himself when he was transformed into his super- or dark form, but this was different and sounded like an old urban legend. A fairy tale. Or maybe, part of him didn’t want to say goodbye to these feelings. Maybe part of him was curious what would happen if Amy knew about his feelings. If it would change anything. If she still loved him. If she would choose him over Shadow. His cheeks and ears coloured slightly pink when picturing him holding her in his arms again, stroking her rosy quills and even kissing her. The second his hopes were rising, the guilt flushed it away like a stormy wave. He shook the thoughts off and rose up to face Eggman, who was holding out the emerald for him. Sonic gave him an annoyed look.   “Don’t you want to get rid of these feelings? She is with Shadow now and hasn’t been in love with you for years. You’ve had your chance, hedgehog.”   The words were harsh and stung a little, but they were true and he knew it. She would never be his.   “And besides that: you’re a complete mess. We’re at war and you’re useless like this.” “Fine, but you can’t tell anyone about this!” Sonic hissed at Eggman and grabbed the emerald.

#YAAU #Young adults alternate universe #Shadowsfascination #sonic fanfic #sonamy #Shadamy #amy rose #Amy Rose the Hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sidestory

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Life After Snowpiercer: One Problem at a Time

Summary- Curtis x Y/N. You and Curtis reunite, deal with some issues in the valley and reconnect 2 of the groups. Tension between you and Curtis. Warnings- Violence

Word Count- 5.3k

Chapter 6 / Masterlist

The firing from above was surprising, You and Johanna witnessed Wilfords old guard squad shout out in alarm and close ranks retreating. Johanna lowered the rifle, and breathed out hard enough to flip the hair that fell in her eyes back. “I dont know who it is... but they are pushing them back.” You sneak a peek out to see if you can catch sight of anyone, but thats when you hear the cry of alarm behind you, and you pull back, disappearing inside. Following your name being cried out, you see where someone got a ricochet. It had luckily lost some of its momentum, but still embedded enough to cause blood to blossom all over there shoulder and clutch at it to stop the bleeding. 

“Shit” You try to drag the man into the nearest light without making yourselves possible targets. “Shirt off... Whats your name?” You ask as you maneuver him, grabbing the hem of his shirt and start to pull it over his head. 

He grunted as you lifted the shirt over his head. “Mickey... we was trying to get the kids into the back once we heard the firing started, but not fast enough apparently.” His eyes watered a bit, but other then that, he stayed perfectly still. 

“Yea it got pretty dicey there for a bit. Does anyone have a knife?” You start hold out your hand till someone shoves a military grade blade into it and you start cutting off pieces of clothing off one of his shirts, and directing him to sit down, so you at least didnt have to go to your tip toes to dig out the shard. “Okay Mickey, Im gonna be as quick as I can, promise. Just please dont move.” 

“No worries Miss, I can handle it.” He took a deep breath and nodded in affirmation that he was ready. Lets get this done, you coached yourself, never actually having removed anything like this. Your head tilted and the tip of your tongue stuck out as you started to use the tip to wedge along one side. Mickey was true to his word and stayed still, allowing you to dig further into his flesh till THERE, the tip slid underneath and you could pop it out “Got it!” 

Wadding the piece of cloth against the seeping wound, you are careful not to touch anything as his blood was all over your hands. “Be right back, keep the pressure on it.” John stepped in to monitor him as you make your way back to Johanna who was looking through the scope up at the cliff. “Son of a bitch, hes gonna do it....” 

“Safe to go out and scrub my hands you think, and do what?” You question as you look over her shoulder, and Johanna drops the scope to look without the assistance to the top of the cliff. “This bastard, hes gonna jump down., OH HELL THERE HE GOES!” This is when you lean out and your jaw drops. 

Curtis pulled back the rifle when he thought he saw you, holding his breath, hoping for another glance, anything to confirm it was you he saw. Rolling away from the edge, and up to his feet, he paced the edge for a moment. “I gotta get down there now, do we have any rope?” He asked the person closest to him, the man shaking his head and asking another nearby. Resounding negatives sounded, and Curtis just didnt have the time to search the train cars for any. Looking over the edge, he studied the way down, noticing small juts of ice build up on what he guessed were ledges, he formed an idea. Was it crazy? Most likely, but what the fuck. Sliding the rifle strap over his shoulder, he held it out to anyone close by. “Give me an axe, Im gonna need you all to cover me while I make my way to the train car.” 

The man whom he had asked for rope earlier looked down the side as if studying what Curtis had been looking at, frowning for a moment in thought, then his eyes widened. “Man you cant.” 

Curtis didnt even pause as he hefted the axe, checking it was one with the sharper blades, and swung it around in a loop once, twice, three times to loosen his good arm. “Man I am.” 

“Thats could be a damn suicide jump. Your gonna break your legs, even with the deeper snow at the bottom, you have no clue whats down there!.” 

Curtis shifted to the edge, turning his body so that his good side holding the axe would be close to the cliff wall. “Yea well, I might not know what, but I know who is down there, and who knows when those fuckers will be back.” 

CURTIS EVERETT, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DIE, YOU AND ME BUDDY, WERE THROUGH. 

No were not, and I will be fine, trust me. 

Trust you? Fucken hell Curtis your lucky I do. 

Thats my girl. 

And it seemed like he just stepped off the edge, plunging the axe into the snow and ice on the side, it slowed him down slightly in his descent, and he was able to steer himself enough to land on the ledge he was aiming for. For all of five seconds. 

It gave out from under him “Oh shit” he exclaimed as he dropped down, trying to smash the axe head back into the side, it finally went in, but he just sped up more, bouncing off the wall once in a while, fuck his ribs. Well they are definitely broken now if they werent before, and all around him white rolls of snow started shifting, and racing down with him. Soon it was enough to be considered an avalanche, and he landed heavily at the bottom, a dumping of snow landing on top of him. 

You jumped out of the train, with Johanna leaning out trying to catch you and stop you from taking off. But you rolled out of her grip. “Y/N! Come back, its not safe!” But damn it, you werent paying attention to anything but Curtis falling down the side of the cliff. HE JUMPED! THAT BASTARD JUMPED, GOD DAMN IT CURTIS! you screamed internally as you plowed your way through snow almost to your knees, falling every now and then, and struggling to get up, the whole time your panicked mutters of “nonononono” filled a bit of the silence after the snow crashed on top of itself at the bottom. By the time you reached the cliff face, all around you was just white swirls where the snow had yet to properly settle. “Curtis! Where are you?” You yelled out, looking all around you, but nothing, just white. Unsettled wisps blowing in your face. 

“Come on baby, answer me” your voice is starting to panic as you start searching under you, for anything Curtis shaped. If hes trapped under the snow, hes going to suffocate, sobs of fear escaping, and tears brimming your vision. You plunge your arms into what looks like the deepest snowbank and dig like your life depended on it. It did, it did depend on it. Why was he so fucken stupid? Jumping off a cliff, god damn you Curtis, if you leave me alone here... Your wheezing, completely unaware he had come up behind you, and in true Curtis fashion, he grasped your hips and swung you around. Shocked, your looking up at those familiar blue eyes, adrenaline had blown his pupils wide with the rush, and he to is panting, clumps of ice and snow in his beard and his whole face is red where it had been covered in snow. For seconds your just staring at him, but then, you let him have it. 

Your fist comes against his chest in a rage, bouncing off his pecks, and your just raging at this point. “what the fucken hell Curtis, you could have DIED! You idiot! Died, dead, gone, no more, do you hear me?!” He allowed it for a bit, but then he caught your hands and drew you in as the sobs of fear broke from you, struggling in his hold and grabbing his face, that damn face you love so damn much it hurt, one you were so scared for and mad at and just beyond relieved to have back because you were hurting all over and wanted to sink into his arms and be told that it was gonna be okay, that damn face. You crashed your lips against his, kissing him fiercly and possessively, only breaking apart when the loss of air burned your lungs and your head swam with dizziness. 

“Dont you ever do something like that again! God your such an Idiot, I love you” your forehead leaning against his, and his eyes looked in yours and you could see that he would again without question, and before he could say that, you nip his lip softly to keep him quiet and roam your hands over his chest and pull back. You werent allowed to go to far, as he yanked you back  in, his own hands searching you for anything out of the norm, cupping your face and placing a softer, but no less desired kiss on your lips “I wasnt going to leave you down here baby, I thought Ive lost you endless times over the past few days. I knew I saw you. I had to get down here. Especially with those fuckers coming for you.” 

Your hands slide into his coat, and that familiar warmth starts to seep into your burning cold fingertips and his oversized hands wipe your face dry, kissing across the cheeks and your nose to calm you down, leaning his forehead once more against yours. “You couldnt ask me to leave my girl here and not to to get to you, right?” And with that, your anger dissipates much like the remaining snow crystals in the air that swirl near you, your combined heat melting them away. Relief floods you and you sigh, leaning into him, God I need you so damn much. His arms enclose you and for the first time in days your okay. 

“All of it, they said they were just toying with you the entire time.” You breath out and pull back enough to look at him. “Did you get all the way there? I assumed so once the train derailed.” 

Curtis was going to have to tell her all that happened, and that was the big news about her brother, in that he was dreading. Not that her brother was alive, but what they twisted the man into. He nodded, and decided it would have to be later, once they were safely settled, could he break the news to her then. “Yes, we lost good people.... but they got me to the front, got me to Wilford. Come on, we have to get out of sight. I have a few people up top to cover us.” You didnt inquire anymore at the moment, following along in his footsteps as best as possible, your hand still fisted in his, loathe to let it go. You could easily see he was hurting, the way he took jagged steps. But you woudnt know more till he would really let you look him over No guns had to be fired, and maybe there luck was turning around. 

Johanna had the gun trained on Curtis till You stepped around him and waved your hand that it was okay, and she pulled back. As you two approached, Curtis climbed inside and held out his hand, greeting her with a thanks. “Damn glad Y/N had you with her Johanna.” She nodded her your welcome and turned to you. 

“If your planning on moving anyone, theres a couple who are beat up pretty bad. Your friend Sara is definitely suffering from blood loss, and we got to relocate a few shoulders.” Hearing the women discuss the injuries, Curtis was relieved it wasnt anything worst. But as he caught sight of the survivors, he knew why. There must be more casualties then survivors. They were a weary bunch, the kids all huddled together, sleeping or whispering to themselves, adults wandering back and forth unable to relax, some leaning back against the wall, holding there arm or shoulder from where it came out of joint in the fall. “Has anyone been able to go through the cars?” Curtis asked as you came up beside him. 

“No, once we landed, I got the kids to gather supplies, and then the guards tried to collect us. We bolted right out and headed to the cliff face. Others followed us. Paul told me that his cart had usable food in it and thats as far as we've been able to plan ahead." John came up to join them, listening in and introducing himself to Curtis.

"Probably would have either went into the other cars today, see if anyone survived the night or tried to find a way up. These are all the back end cars.... Short of the protein blocks, no other usable supplies. Old threadbare blankets, maybe some clothing." John mentioned, leaving Curtis nodding in agreement. He was right, all the usable supplies were in the front, they went through several freezer carts of beef and chicken, a garden cart, a bit of live stock in another, even an oversized tank that might still have usable food in it, he was sure once the train derailed any heating system went off, and it might all be frozen solid. And then not even mentioning supplies such as medicine and other goods. As Wilford mentioned before, it was an entire enclosed ecosystem. One that Curtis ripped wide open now.

"Theres a group up there waiting for us... The last of the tail enders and a few others, simple fact is we gotta move everyone up. Safer for us to be in a group then spread out, especially with Wilfords old buddies.” Curtis said that last part sarcastically, and you glanced at Curtis. 

“Well we cant climb up the way you came down, especially with people like Sara. Someones got to find a trail if there are any” 

So it was decided a couple would go look along the cliff face, see if there was a reasonable way up, John volunteered along with another man. They bundled up as best they could, blankets draped over there shoulders and they warily started along the trail you and Curtis made earlier. Now onto the next issue, You knew you should have taken care of the out of joint patients, more things like clothing was needed, some of these people were shivering with blue lips and fingertips. Fuck what a disaster. All of it. A hand came to your back and Curtis slipped up behind you as you watched the two men continue down your trail. You leaned back into his chest, and closed your eyes for a minute. Letting everything just go still inside you, just having him back eased you a bit. 

“We will be okay babygirl, get them all up and continue on our way.” His fingers brushed aside your hair laying against your neck and he dipped his head to kiss the curve, his lips soft brushes along the length. You enjoyed the sensation for a few moments, familiar and warming. But then enclosed when his hand moved to settle on your stomach and hold you in close, your breathing hitches. Why? Whats wrong? And you fight out of the haze clouding your mind, and pushing his hand back and away, turning to face Curtis. “We probably better get to those patients. Help me with them?” You brush past him and head into the back, frowning at yourself for how you just reacted, knowing exactly what it was, but admitting it was an entirely different story.

Curtis was surprised when you pulled away, about to stop you and ask what that was, but it had been hell for the past few days, so it would be understandable if you werent yourself. Following along with you, you were talking to Sara, who Curtis vaguely recognized from the back end. Lifting the rag she had used to keep pressed against her shoulder. “Im sorry I didnt get this out sooner Sara, but I got to now.” Another mistake, you think to yourself. There is a bit of redness and streaks blooming around it. Fuck why didnt you take care of this last night. With the way she was shot, you were sure there might be more then just a slug embedded in there. “Come on, lets go in the light.” You two go forward and as you pass Curtis, you encourage her to continue where Johanna was perched in the doorway, watching. 

“Curtis we definitely need more clothing, something for at least the kids to wrap up in. They will freeze with what they have now out there.” Your almost reach out to touch him, then pull back, stuffing your hands in your sleeves instead. 

“Yup, we will get it. Work on Sara and the others, we will be back soon.” He didnt push to touch you or share affection, but you tugged him back and placed a speedily kiss on his lips last minute. A ‘im sorry’ for earlier for yourself, he flashed you look that spoke volumes, then spun away and his voice boomed “Listen up, you... you... and you, were gonna be hitting up some of these cars... you....” Walking away, you felt more in control now, hearing him take control and having a plan in place. Sara was sitting with Johanna, looking exhausted, but holding a conversation. 

Withdrawing the knife you used earlier, you have Sara sit in the light, Johanna lowers back to her earlier spot, the rifle hanging out the door to keep watch. Bringing her shirt down enough to take a look at the wound, you sigh. “Like with Mickey, this is gonna hurt like a bitch. And I gotta make sure nothing is left in there.” Sara nodded and once more you dug for the bullet. Sara hunched a bit and did her best to stay still, a gasp escaping once in a while, but overall when she slouched forward into Johanna, you knew she passed out. Good, make this easier. 

“Sorry, let me just finish this and we can move her” You state and Johanna nods, moving to cradle the woman while you hear a plink! to the bullet falling out, and a few more pokes and prods, the blood seeping down, hesitant but hopeful that will finish cleaning the wound. “Okay, think shes good.” You use the rag she was earlier to put pressure on it and once it seemed to stop bleeding so much, you two move her, already Sara was stirring much to your satisfaction. “Just hang out here a bit, m’kay?” A nod and wince as she puts the rag back to be sure it wouldnt start bleeding. 

Then you went through the rest, relocating joints, checking nicks and cuts. A few people you found out had busted ribs, one had a arm that should be put in a splint, but there simply was no way to do so. “Just... keep it close to your body and dont move it. It will heal, in time.” Putting together a make shift sling with a shirt someone volunteered. Just as you were finishing up, Curtis and a few others returned, arms bundled in clothing, and as you two dispersed them among people, and bundling the kids up, you quietly ask him. 

“Was there alot.... of people... ?” 

“Yea baby, more then I thought there would be. Some of them, its hard to tell if it was before or after the crash.” He passed off a jacket to someone and looked at you. “Then there were others that just.... Its a lot.” 

You didnt push him, ask where he was going with that sentence, you had an idea of what it meant, and you didnt even want to have him have to explain his choice. People dont always survive. 

He continued, handing off the last item, and turning to you. “We only went through a few, but we cant wait any longer. And I found where those guards were hanging out, They have been collecting supplies in the further cars, as much as could be had” 

You swallow a bit, and keep yourself busy with the thought of them. “Where are they now?” 

“I dont know, they wandered away from the cars at some point. Im assuming they didnt have a aim on them up above and they werent coming back around to us.” Curtis shook his head as they started getting people up, moving them forward. “But if they do... “ Curtis rumbled softly under his breath. You pause and rest your hand against his back, inside dreading the coming conversation. He was already so on edge to them being out there. Johanna called then to you two, and John ducked back inside. “Well we found what looks like an animal trail. Goes right up along the side, and looks like its well used. Do you think... theres really something alive out there?” 

A shrug and nod from you “Were still alive, right? We can only guess as to what survived after the freeze.” 

It was painfully slow, John and Adam, as you come to find out what the other mans name was, led the group, you stayed with the kids, and helped Sara as much as she was able to stand, behind you were more of the adults, including Curtis and Johanna who were making sure no one fell behind. When you finally crested the top, you stepped off to the side, huffing with exertion, the people who had remained at the top cars were helping others inside or near some fires they all were able to start, clearly they had been busy while you all were coming up out of the valley. Curtis came up beside you, a groan of his own as his hand pressed against his left side. “Lets get inside babes, then we can take a break. We all need one.” 

Sara was collected and helped to where the other people were recovering, and Tam rushed up to the two of you once you entered the car “Hey, I got the kids, Edgar is sitting up already, and his back is looking much better.” You look confused for a moment, and Curtis shakes his head at you. “I will explain later. Thanks Tam, if everyones set, were going to go settle in somewhere for the night.” Assured that everything would be handled, Curtis led you away, these were similar to the tail end car, just with windows. Curtis was quick to find you two a empty bottom bunk. You crawled in first, and leaned against the wall, your head tipping back. Fuck you were so tired, and he semi collapsed next to you in a similar fashion. 

You turn just your head to look at him, and smile when you see hes doing the same thing. There hadnt been any chance to really just be with one another since reuniting and you reach your hand out, weaving your fingers with his. “Hey.... Thank you for keeping your promise and coming back to me.” 

He sat up a bit more and let go of your hand, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in close, placing a kiss to your forehead, whispering. “Im sorry for leaving you like that babygirl. All I could think of was keeping you safe.” You put your hand against his mouth. 

“Handsome its fine, I know why you did it. Tell me what happened.” You inquired, and Curtis fell into how he pushed the group through each car, the ones they found that was possible to find supplies and food in for them, how the bridge claimed so many of them, one of whom he thought was Edgar, but that wasnt the case. How Nam wanted to blow open the side, jump from the train when he wouldnt open that final door, and this is where he stalled. He had to tell her. All of it. Her brother, his arm... he managed to keep it hidden this whole time, the pain a background noise at this point. 

“Babygirl come here, I just... need to hold you. I really thought I lost you.” He hauled you into his lap, and you tensed up momentarily when his arm circled around you, rubbing your lower back and side. But this was Curtis, you were safe. Under his hand you finally relaxed, and your head rested on his shoulder, he started in on the next part of his story. The rumble of his chest lulled you, while you listened. Wilford offered a deal, and Curtis admitted that he considered it. You lifted your head and looked at him. “You wouldnt have been able to live with yourself” He nodded, and leaned forward to kiss your lips softly. “Your right, I would have become everything I hated. Baby, this next part, you got to listen to me. Okay? the whole part before any questions.” 

“Curtis what is it?” Your brow furrows with concern at his words. 

“Matt, your brother... Hes alive, and he still is. I left him back at the front.” 

Your silent for a moment, and he could see your mind racing, processing his words. 

“Hes still alive... Matts still here.” And the joy that crossed your face broke Curtis heart because fuck he was going to have to tell you just how far gone he was, that there wasnt the compassionate little boy anymore. But a man with cold resolve and placed himself above the others, for he was the prodigy.  

“Baby, he isnt who you think he is, not anymore.” Curtis hands captured your face to make you pay attention to him. “Wilford trained him to be his successor, brainwashed. He has no compassion for any of the people, were something to control.”

“What? No Curtis, he loved us, He wouldnt forget, unless he thinks I let him go.” Your thoughts are spinning out of control, just what Curtis didnt want. You pull back from him then “He cant be that bad, I mean, Once I explain all that was going on, he will see.” A saddened look crossed Curtis face, reaching out to draw you back to him. 

“Baby we can try... but they were using our kids to run the train, put them right into the engine, and afterwards... Executed if they served no more purpose. Under his order, he was set on killing Yona, Nam and I if I didnt agree to there terms.” He couldnt even bring up the way your brother talked about you, the callousness of his words in discussing you, whom loved him more then yourself. 

“No... he wouldnt have been okay with it.” Your breathing grows more rapid and Curtis rubs your arms to comfort you. 

“I know baby, Im sorry... “ He was doing everything he could to calm you, but it was only setting you off worst. Again you pulled away from him, drawing your legs up and hugging around your knees, what are you not telling him? The only time you pulled away was the weeks after Matt was taken and you withdrew into yourself. “Y/N? Talk to me please?” He wants to reach for you, but you’ve just drawn yourself off, quiet as you stare ahead. 

Matt wouldnt, Curtis must have misunderstood what happened. He did what he had to to survive, the conclusions you drew. “You said hes still alive? You had to leave him behind, is he safe?” 

His hand dropped to his lap, studying you even as you waited for an answer. “He was safe when I left him and Claude. I was told you went over a damn cliff, I honestly had no other concerns.” His tone slightly clipped, and you can see where hes holding it together under a great strain. You unfold yourself, and return into his hold, feeling him once more relax being able to rest his hand on you. 

“They had Timmy, in the engine. Whatever they did to him, he was so unhuman acting. Robotic, he wouldnt come out once Nam and I secured the room.” He shifted you and this is the first time you see the tangled mess of his arm when he slid his sleeve up, deep laceration that have scabbed over criss crossing where the gears tore in, but they were still great tears, all of it swollen, and throbbing looking. “Fucken hell Curtis” You cuss as you finish rolling his sleeve up to look at it. “Youve been like this the whole time? Baby you need medicine in case of infection.” So tenderly you inspected it, you seemed more like yourself now, your mind distracted. 

Curtis remained still as you went to roll the sleeve back down, and was gnawing on your bottom lip. “God damn handsome, im so sorry.” Your hands went to his face, feeling for any kind of fever, and giving a small smile when he turned into your palm and nipped the center, kissing your fingertips before letting his head once more fall back against the wall. “You seem to not be fighting off an infection though. But I will feel better once we can secure some stuff from the medic car.” You shift to his other side so you dont risk touching his arm, rubbing your hand along the back of his neck. For now you both go quiet, just being together. This time his hand slides along the inside of your thigh, just resting warmly there. You can feel yourself drifting off, and finally he says softly. 

“We should get some sleep” He shifted off the wall, and laid down for the first time in days, waiting with a lifted arm for you to do as you always do, curl in against his chest. Which you did, you always did, and stretching out, scooting over till his arm rested over your hip, he tugged you in the rest of the way. His body is hard against your back, and his beard scratches lightly behind your neck as he placed kisses there. Nothing sexual, just a bit of intimacy after such a long time apart. You cant help but tense up, which he notices when you dont sink into him, how your breathing doesnt soften after a few minutes, and he wants to ask you, make you spill whatever it is your holding inside. But he doesnt, he just stays by your side, his hand moving to slide under your shirts and gently let it rest against the softness of your stomach. Wide awake until finally he hears you release a soft snore, a true testament to your exhaustion. 

You laid there, your fingers curled into the ticking of the blanket your laying on, your heart a quick flash patter, escape escape escape, this was fucking CURTIS. How could you feel that hot heat of panic flushing your body or that your throat was squeezing air through a straw. You waited, waited for him to tighten his arm around you as he usually did or sprawl you across his chest when he rolled to his back, but he stayed still behind you, and the tension between you two just built. I should tell him, but how can I? For whatever reason, it shamed you that you couldnt fight them off. Finally his fingers just splayed against your stomach where he worked his hand under your shirts and loosely held you. After a while, you couldnt help it anymore, falling asleep. Fuck those men for doing this to you. 

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#curtis everett #curtis everett x y/n #chris evans #snowpiercer #trauma #violence