#but then I remembered I rated my blog 'mostly PG-13' so...

[captainhysunstuff]

Light loves his asshole.

#drawn by me #my fanart #what can I say? he does #Death Note #L #Light Yagami #lawlight #please don't kill your asshole Light. it's not a good idea #the word of the day is: asshole #I'm immature lol #I actually edited more wholesome dialogue in these pics because I was feeling cowardly #but then I remembered I rated my blog 'mostly PG-13' so... #if anyone wants me to post the PG version of these just tell me so ehehe

[waywardimpalawriter]

Ain’t no sunshine when he’s gone (Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader)

Ain’t no sunshine when he’s gone

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: angst, hurt, comfort, 

Word count: 1,795 (It wasn’t suppose to be this long, seems I can never write anything shorter than a 1,000 words.)

Summary: Lone phone booth, broken hearts and empty words, promises he tries to keep. Wanting to make his way back with the sunshine.

Notes: Let me start by saying I’m sorry but I’m not really. You may need tissues. Written for the very lovely @autumnleaves1991-blog​ for Writer Wednesday. I figured since last weeks was fluffy I’d break out a little angst for this week. Set before and right after the events in Triple Frontier. Inspired by the amazing Bill Withers song “Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone.”

“You’re promised no more trips, you’d stay home help raise Luciana, be here,” last words whispered more to yourself than to the man standing opposite. Knowing what you signed up for being the girlfriend of a military man. It’s different now though he’s out, no more deployments to places all God knew about. Going weeks, mostly months without seeing him. Warm body held tightly in your arms when he came home, soothing the nightmares that followed.  

Dropping his head, chin resting on his chest not wanting to look into those hurt eyes. For anyone else he’d say no but these fella’s are family, you know this having taken them all in like brothers. Frankie understood your anger more directed at the fact he’s leaving you alone when he’s promised that would never happen again. “I’m sorry mi amor,” raising his head to stare at you. Crystalline tears catch light from the near by lamp glinting mockingly. Knowing sorry isn’t enough empty words and promises laying bare between the both of you.

“How…” arms wrapping around you plush middle. Fending off the worry and holding yourself together even for a few moments. “How long?”

Taking a step towards you, “Three days max. Pope says it’s just a quick recon and intel job. You won’t even miss me.” Corny joke tasting bitter on his tongue that licks across dry lips. Unsure if you’d accept him right now but wanting to hold you so badly. “It’ll be quick and easy sweetheart, then I’ll be back with my girls.”

“Three days?” Seeing him nod you swallow harshly staying still for a moment longer. Till you couldn’t stop yourself from running into his arms, wrapping them so tightly around his body the air is knocked from his lungs. Vise grips of flesh and bone holding on securely, wishing the trip would already be over. “You come back to me you hear Fransisco Morales or so help me I’ll search all over this God forsaken planet till I find you myself.” Words muttered and clogged with tears streaming down cold cheeks. “You have a daughter to raise…”

“And a woman to love,” peeling himself back from your embrace. His own arms resting on your thick waist, large hands splayed out over your back taking in your warmth and love. “I promise mi amor I’ll be back in no time.”

It���s on the tip of your tongue to ask him to stay. Plead your case, demand he make good on those promises spoken with the last deployment. Yet, you know this is different and that’s what scares you the most truly. You’d loose so much with this one trip. They won’t have backing by the government in case… pushing those thoughts away you press yourself deeper into Frankie’s body. Stealing his calm, trying to soak it into your veins and sooth your nerves. Knowing the only way to truly do that is by having him stay and you’d never be selfish to ask.

“You know there’s no sunshine when you’re gone,” pressing your lips to the little patch of missing hair in his scruffy beard. “Come back to me Frankie I can’t do this without you.”

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

It's not warm when she's away

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

And she's always gone too long

Anytime she's goes away

A week and two days he’s been gone. Nerves shot to hell you asked Will’s girlfriend Abby to watch Luciana for a couple of hours. Knowing the other woman needed a distraction from the worry just as much. You scooping up the keys, placing a quick kiss to your daughter’s forehead, a nod to Abby and you’re out the door. Heading to that little spot you and Frankie like to camp. Drawing a smidgeon of peace from the place that’s much loved between you.

Trying to keep those pesky, traitorous thoughts from invading your mind. Imagines long forgotten with the Delta force days behind you, resurface every night Frankie’s gone. Picturing the worst every time your eyes close. Fists clinching at your sides long sorrow filled scream winds itself from deep within your chest. Thankful no living humans are around to hear the agony scare any woodland creatures far away. Screaming till your throat is raw and parched. Dropping to your knees not caring about the dirt and buries that’ll show up later. In the back of your mind the little voice chastising you for having so little faith in Frankie.

It couldn’t be helped thought, you missed your sunshine. Wanted his presence more than your next breath. To see that ratting Standard Heating oil cap cover his curls, left dimple making an appearance when he smiles at you. Wrapping your arms around his body drinking in the scent of piney woods, touched with motor oil and a spice that’s all Frankie. Afraid of what state he’ll be in that is if he returns. Face pressed into shaky hands hiding from the world as tears coat the palms in salty moisture while rocking your body. Trying to push those thoughts out of your mind to form happier, sun filled ones. Not realizing the rain started to fall from heavy laden clouds, promising a soaker of a storm. Till ramblings of thunder make you gasp and look up. Fitting stormy grey skies meet your sorrowful eyes. Raindrops hitting your upturned face, dropping   into your eyes making them blink closed. Heart aching for the man you love and wishing for Aladdin’s magic lamp to grant you just one precious wish that’s all you needed.

Shivering from your soaked clothes, gusty winds howling through the pines returning your grief. Slowly you manage to drag yourself up and back to Frankie’s truck. Sitting watching the rain slash against the aged windshield. Creating different rivers and puddles of water, sunlight catching a perfect drop when the clouds part and shine into the cab and over your face. Warming the cool skin as a sob leaves your throat praying this burst of light is a good omen.

Wonder this time where she's gone

Wonder if she's gone to stay

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

And this house just ain't no home

Anytime she goes away

You stare at the cell phone laying on the seat beside you. Hoping it’ll ring with a number you don’t recognize. Pleading for some kind of answer anything to stop the worry. When no answer me dance lights the piece of tech you slam an open palm against the steer wheel unable to keep the tears from sliding down your face. Unaware of how long you’ve sat there eyes closed rain pouring down around you.

Bill Withers smooth tenor making you jump and clutch at your chest. Eyes flying open to stare out into the utter darkness surrounding you not recognizing the ringtone for half a second. Fear and dread incasing your wildly thumping heart as you reach out for the cell phone. Not recognizing the number, you shakily press and slide your finger. Putting the phone to your ear breath lodged in your throat. Dry and deep from screaming, “Frankie?”

Shattering at the sound of your sweet scratching voice, Frankie sags against the phone booth. Warm glass meeting sweat soaked button up covered back trying to hold in the sob. “It’s me mi corazón,” finally answering short whimper on the end of the endearment. Making him bite the inside of his cheek to stop any other sounds from escaping. Dragging in the humid night air to fill his lungs and steady his heart. The heat is oppressive hanging heavy around the small glass and metal enclosure as his large hand grips the weathered plastic receiver.

“What happened mi sol?” Fear gripping tightly around your heart at hearing the sorrow in his voice. Aching to hold him and chase away the darkness you know will follow.

Pressing a hand to the glass cursing the fact this call wouldn’t be long enough to explain himself. “When I get home I’ll tell you everything sweetheart. I’m on an old pay hone right now so there’s not much time. I just…” swallowing harshly, eyes closing over those sadden brown eyes. “I needed to hear your voice.”

“I’m here baby,” wiping at the tears of relief and sitting up straighter in the bench truck seat. It didn’t matter what happened just knowing he’s alive and coming home to you it all that’s important. They could sort out the rest in time. “When are you coming home Frankie? Luciana misses her daddy.”

Watery chuckle leaves his lips, head resting on the dirty glass behind him, “I’ve missed her to hermosa,” taking another breath to steady himself. “I love you so fucking much.”

Heart clinching tightly at his words the desperation in the tone destroying you. Responding without thought, “I love you to Frankie,” gulping in a breath whimpers bitten off to keep from him knowing how torn up you are. Clap of thunder followed the streaks of lighting illuminating the night sky making you jump and gasp.

“Where are you sweetheart?” Having heard the thunder a little too loudly for you to be at home.

For the first time in your relationship you think of lying to him so he didn’t worry. But you remember the promise made and wouldn’t break it. “Our place,” comes the short answer hearing silence on the other end and you think he’s run out of time.

Finally finding his voice pushing through the pain in his heart. “I’m sorry mi corazón we… I never should’ve…”

“Shh Frankie it’s okay I came here to be closer to you. Wishing for you to call and you did,” soft chuckle leaving your mouth accompanying a small sob. “My sunshine broke through to let me know you were okay and coming home before you called.”

Pulling his cap off to rest on top the worn metal of the cradle and run a shaky hand through his curls. “I think you have that backwards, you’re my sunshine sweetheart and I can’t wait till I see you shine for me.” Electronic voice reminding him of the seconds he has left, precious and too few for his liking. “I’ve got to go mi corazón. I’ll be home soon I promise, I love you.”

“I love…” words cut off making Frankie curse and slam the receiver back into the cradle wanting to kick the old piece of junk. But knowing it wouldn’t get him anywhere but a busted foot most likely. He settles for slapping a palm against the glass before snatching up his cap and leaving the claustrophobic inducing box without a backwards glance. Setting his sights on the airport a short power walk away, towards home and into the arms of his girls.

#Writer Wednesday #Frankie Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Morales x F!You

[sif-the-tsunami]

Hello friends,

This is a small sample of the fantasy series I’ve been working on for a few years. I would love to get some kind of feedback. Positive, negative. Lay it on me. I want to know what you think.

This is a rough draft, barely edited. 

Summary: A young warrior starts the path to her destiny. 

Rated: PG-13, this will probably read like YA but there wont be any sexy times. Just talks about violence and death (this doesn’t mean that people under 18 can start interacting with my blog. I mostly post smut.)

The attack on Dawnforge came without warning. Raiders, dozens of them, descended upon the small community surrounding a rural temple. The invaders poured violently out of the woods. In the cool shade of the temple’s grove, Ellisif Thrace’s mossy green eyes shot open from her late afternoon nap when she heard the Keepers sound the alarm. The war horns had only been blown ceremonially for as long as she could remember. The second blast echoed off the stone walls and summoned her to action. The young woman sat strait up, and listened for another moment to see if she could find out what direction the alarm was coming from.  She thought she could hear the Keepers shouting towards the east although she couldn’t make out what they were saying just yet. Always eager to be of assistance, Ellisif picked up her belongings and started running towards the commotion. Ellie, as she preferred to be addressed, had been learning defense and fighting techniques since she was strong enough to pick up a sword. Her father had been a knight errant and thought it was important that his children should know how to keep themselves safe.

Another blast of the horn let her know she was running in the right direction. Soon she heard the sound of weapons being thrown and bashed into the thick wooden gate. The Keepers were directing the villagers to leave the area, a man that Ellisif thought was named Erik told her to go home. He couldn’t have been much older than she was, his skin was sun kissed, with a little pink on his temples and cheekbones. Erik looked scared, brushing his reddish blond hair out of his face.

“I’m here to help, give me a sword!” She shouted.

“Little Sister, you need to go somewhere safe.” Erik ordered. As he was saying this, the Commander put his hand on her shoulder.

“Erik, Ellie is to join the Order at the Feast of Lyria. Let her pick up a shield, if they make it through our defenses, she knows how to handle herself.” The older man told Erik. He handed their recruit a wooden shield with metal studs, “Ellisif, make your father proud.”

Erik rolled his eyes as the Commander went to go hand out more tools. “They are going to break through in a matter of minutes. Take an ax. If they make it past us, cut the fuckers down. And don’t you dare get killed.”

Ellie pulled the cord she had on her wrist to tie her hair back. Her thick dark chocolate brown curls were pulled back out of her face and she said a small prayer to her favorite Goddess. I don’t want to have to kill anyone, but if I do, please let me do it quickly. Her heart pounded in her throat, her trepidation rose with every new crack emerging from the gate. The wood finally gave way, and she watched the horde of mismatched heathens break into her town. The Keepers had set up as much of a barricade as they could. Carts where pushed on their sides trying to create a funnel and direct the invaders to the villages best fighters and war priests. The Archers were doing what they could to thin out the herd. Ellisif inched closer to the battle, she tightened her grip on the handle of her ax just in time for a raider to jump over the stack of crates that had been near where she was standing. She raised her shield to the long sword he was swinging at her and it became stuck in the hard wood. Then it was as if her brain shut off and her body took over.

The warrior would never truly be able to recall everything that happened that afternoon. The surviving Keepers would tell her that she was brave, surgical with her actions and moved like she had been doing this all her life. In her state of shock, she would just say she had really good teachers. They would congratulate her for surviving her first battle. They thanked her for saving lives that day. Not a single invader made it past where she stood her ground.

Ellie looked up at the white stone buildings that were beginning to glow pink with the setting of the sun. What would they do with the bodies, she wondered vaguely. She leaned against the warm stone wall and slid down. What should I be doing? She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to make the sickness in her stomach go away.

“Where is she? Where is my sister, where is my Ellie?” a familiar voice was shouting. A couple of the Keepers pointed towards where she sat with her knees tucked to against her chest, her head resting on the wall behind her. Sarah thought she look more pale than normal.

“I’m right here.” Ellie croaked. Her throat was so dry. The healers had looked at her briefly, said she would be fine but to be prepared that she would probably have some pretty bad bruising on her forearms.

“Oh my Gods, why are you covered in blood? We’ve been so worried! Mama is going to skin you alive. Are you hurt? What were you thinking?” The thin woman stammered together as she fretted over her younger sister.

“I’m fine, the blood’s not mine. At least I don’t think so.” Ellie said, “What was I thinking? I was thinking that this is what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to run toward the fight. Do you have your water on you? I need a drink...”

The Commander strutted over like the fine peacock he was and pressed a bottle of ale into Ellie’s open hand and said something about how proud he was. She didn’t care. Ellie just wanted to be able to swallow without her throat feeling like sandpaper. The strawberry ale was sweet and warm, it made swallowing a little easier but after the third mouthful it became clear that the ale was doing nothing for her nausea. There might have been something said to her about how he was looking forward to seeing her take her oath, he chuckled and walked off. Sarah started trying to clean the viscera from her sister’s face but before she got too much grime off of her face, Ellisif turned her head and wretched.  She groaned, “Let’s go home.”

They walked home, arms wrapped around each other. It wouldn’t be until they reached their little home that Ellisif would start talking. The words slipped out of the young woman, still dazed. She looked down at the ax she was still holding onto with white knuckles and whispered “The one who gave this to me, Erik… I don’t know. He was killed. I killed someone today, Sarah. I killed several someones…”

Sarah, as gently as she could, wiped the tears off of her sister’s face, “You did what Daddy taught us to do. You helped keep our family safe, you kept or town safe. Lyria would be proud. She would be thrilled to know you will be defending her temple. Daddy would be so proud too.”

The older sister took her partner in crime into their house, and tucked the battle wary woman into her bed. The ax fell to the ground with a sickening thunk, and Ellie rolled over and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Sarah went to the kitchen and put a kettle on to brew some tea. Their mother, Kyra, had gone to the temple to help bandage up wounds of the Keepers and anyone else who took up arms. She eventually grabbing the heel of the loaf of bread from the pantry and slather it in homemade butter, pulling out her book of herbs. If Ellisif was more athletically inclined, her sister was definitely more well read. Sarah propped the book up and began plaiting her silky hair as she read the well loved tome. The front door opened quietly, the family’s matriarch came back after a long night of bandaging up injured young people and comforting the loved ones of those they lost.

“The Pale Mother now has a few more attendants now,” Kyra sighed, she and Sarah’s looks were similar, though she had more silver in her hair now. They both had dark brown eyes, almost black.  “Those poor souls. The Council and the High Priestess has asked that we all gather tomorrow at the Temple. They found their leader and they are interrogating him. He seemed to not understand that the forge our town was named after has been closed for generations, thought he could arm his merry band of miscreants. I heard Ellisif did her duty. How’s our girl doing?”

“She might have gone into emotional shock. I put her in bed, she’s going to need something strong in the morning. I was just reading up on something that will sooth her nerves, she was covered, and I mean covered, in blood. Evidently none of it was hers, which is good. Daddy taught her well. The Keepers were saying she showed a lot of potential.”

“Your father was the best knight I have ever seen wield a sword, I can only imagine what he taught her. The Temple will have never been safer if she is half as good as he was.” Kyra grabbed another hunk of bread and helped herself to some cheese. “I wish you could have seen him. I’ve never seen anyone burn with righteous fury like he could. When he would swing his sword in the tourneys he fought in, I swear that it looked like it was on fire. It was beautiful and absolutely terrifying. Ells has that same spark. When she was little, I saw it in her too.”

“I told her daddy would be proud.”

“He would be. He would also be profoundly sad for her. Sweetheart, you should go get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be very long.”

Ellisif slept until nightfall the next day. Siggy and Kyra left her to her mild unconsciousness to attend the meeting at noon. The temple slowly filled with the mourning villagers. More than a dozen Keepers had died that afternoon, it had been a decade since there had been any attacks on Dawnforge like this. It would be weeks before the damage the raiders did to the town could be repaired. The surviving raiders were told they could bury their dead on the other side of the ravine outside of the walls and then to assist the town in its repairs to try to make amends. The Thrace women where given the instruction on how they could help by the High Priestess. As soon as they where able to, Sarah and her sister would be going to the schoolhouse. They thought that having a couple extra adults around the kids would help make them feel safer.

Most of the school age kids knew Ellie. Two years ago she had won the combat tournament on the Feast of Seraphina, the Scarlet Mother. Usually the winners give the bouquet of fire Lilies to their significant other, she instead pulled out individual flowers and gave one to every little one who was around the ring that day. Her father had done the same thing the last time he had won the tournament. She enjoyed being their hero that afternoon, Sarah remembered as she and their mom walked home with their orders. The night of the feast, Ellie was asked attend the dance that was be held in the town square. Sarah had never seen her sister so happy as when she came home giggling, barefoot and a little in love.

When they made it to their home again, they saw evidence that Ellie had been up and moving but she was no where to be seen. Kyra suggested that they leave her be for the time being, they were kind in letting the young woman try to recover at her own pace. After a few days of her sleeping more heavily than she ever had, Ellisif needed to be in the forest behind the temple. She wanted to feel the presence of the Green Mother and ask her for guidance. There was a small clearing there, where a large stone acts as an alter for Lyria. It was a large piece of granite that always seemed to be covered with moss in all the directions, not just north. On the morning of Lyria’s feast day, the sun would align itself with this slab perfectly, and that is where she would be taking her vows to join the ranks of the Keepers. They were originally called the Temple Keepers, as the community grew, the area they kept safe grew with it. Once Ellie joined, she would be binding herself to the fate of the town. She could get married and have a family if she chose, but traveling would be almost impossible. If the Empire of Oril ever declared war on any of the other kingdoms, they were almost always the ones that were conscripted.  

While Ellie had wanted to become a Keeper for as long as she could remember, as of this morning, the idea of joining gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her mother had always talked about how even masters of their craft could have their confidence shaken if the seeds of doubt had taken root in their minds. Was this a seed a doubt she had been warned about?

“Lyria, divine mother, I come here to beg you for forgiveness. I never wanted take someone’s life. I thought they would yield if they got hurt. How could I have been so stupid...” and for the first time since the attack, Ellisif’s strength gave out. There she spent the rest of the day sobbing and trying to figure out what she needed to do. Her body shook violently as the waves of emotions crashed over her. In the back of her mind, a small notion crawled its way forward, seeping into her thoughts likes a strong tea in hot water. Devoting herself to the temple may not be the right choice. Ellie cleaned her face of the mess that the sobbing caused. The moon had risen, her family would be worried.

She made it into her home moments before they would begin searching for their missing member. There were hugs and more tears. They remained silent as Ellie made her way to her bed, she prepared herself for the night.

#fanasty #fiction #original writing #my own IP #original work #writing

[darley1101]

Book: Ride or Die

Characters: Logan x Aly/MC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Logan has a birthday to remember

Request: July 17 Light from @brightpinkpeppercorn, “You are terrifying for a tiny person” also from @brightpinkpeppercorn

A/N: This is more of a snippet of a work in progress that I'm not ready to post. I guess you could say I'm testing the waters. I know, I know @blackcatkita and @debramcg1106 you both think I should go for it but I'm hesitant. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this snippet on this extra day of Ride or Die week. Tagging the hosts @brightpinkpeppercorn @choicesarehard and @client-327

Regular tags are in a re-blog

Birthdays had never been good to Logan. Parties were a luxury that none of his foster families would consider wasting on him. Forget about cake and ice cream, he was lucky to get a pack of new socks or underwear. The only decent one he could recall was his twelfth; that was the year he said enough was enough and escaped out the back door while his foster mom was too drunk to notice. He guessed his eighteenth had been alright since that was the night he met Kaneko and the old man invited him into the Mercy Park Crew. Shortly after that he'd met Aly, so yeah eighteen had been alright. Nothing would top nineteen though. Nineteen was the birthday when everything changed.

“You are terrifying for a tiny person,” he whispered to the tiny pink bundle the nurse had carefully placed in his arms. Six pounds, five ounces, and eighteen inches long. Her hair was dark and from what he could tell when she squinted them open it looked like her eyes were a dusky blue that would probably change to brown. She was mostly Aly, which was fine by him, but she had his lips. “I don't know much about being a dad but I promise I will always try my best to deserve you.”

“You never will.”

Logan glanced up to find Aly's father hovering in the doorway. His heart started to pound triple time, the way it always did when Detective Wheeler entered a room. Throughout most of Aly's pregnancy her father had stared at him with disappointment and frustration in his eyes. Occasionally he would mutter stuff under his breath that Logan was pretty sure he didn't want to hear. For Aly's sake, they kept it civil and maybe that was all either of them could hope for. “I can try,” Logan bit out, wincing when the baby made a small squeak and squirmed.

“You can try,” the older man agreed, crossing his arms. “We all try but none of us succeed. We eventually screw up somewhere. Don't forget that and don't beat yourself up too badly when it happens.” He ducked his head, let out a sigh. He pushed away from the door and crossed the room. Logan held his breath while Aly's father bent to kiss granddaughter on top of the pink and white striped cap that hid her wisps of hair. He paused when he straightened, an odd look on his face as he took in Aly's sleeping form on the hospital bed. Before he turned to leave he clapped Logan on the shoulder. “Just remember you're not in this alone.” There was a firm squeeze before he moved closer to the door. “Did you guys decide on a name?”

“Alina,” Logan managed to croak out. Alina Mercy. Light and forgiveness. The two things Aly had brought to his murky existence...

#choices #choices ride or die #rodaw #logan x mc #mc x logan #darley1101 writes

[anewworldorderseries]

A New World Order (BB x NB AU) - Chapter 1

Author’s Note: Hello! I have updated both the prologue and this chapter to reflect the changes to the story I’ve decided to make. The biggest difference is Isabel (my BB mc) IS a vampire because this is now set after book 3. This also makes some changes to the canon epilogue because the secret about vampires is still going to come out involuntarily instead of by choice. Also both Jax and Lily are still alive and will be present in future chapters and Isabel isn’t married or living with Adrian yet (that will be after the events of this series are done). 

Also, for the first few chapters (including the prologue) I’ll be posting them both on here and on my main blog @adrianadmirer . But, eventually, I’ll only be posting them on here so if you’re following me there and not on here and want to stay updated, be sure to do so!

I’m still working on chapter 2 but I hope to finish it some time in the near future. I just want this all to be good quality so, it won’t always be quick releases between chapters. I will be writing one-shots of Bloodbound and other fanfic on my main blog so, you can read those when I post them in the meantime.

Characters: Isabel Martinez (BB MC), Adrian Raines, Kamilah Sayeed, Phoebe Laskaris, Cal Lowell, Zelenia Laskaris (NB MC), Nik Ryder (briefly)

Rating: PG-13

Summary: When the Order of Dawn rises from the shadows once more, it lifts the veil of secrecy that’s protected the vampires in New York and puts them and humans in danger. 

@endlesshero1122 , @kinda-iconic , @lovemychoices , @desiree-0816 , @bloodboundismylife , @embarrassingsmartphonegame , @voseho , @something-in-red , @mrsmatsuo , @galaxyside-0 , @jlpplays1 , @brightpinkpeppercorn , @tabithacarlisle , @shelley-parah , @ladykateofhousebeaumont , @ella-raines , @furiouscloddonutpeanut , @itlivesinpixelberry , @fluffy-cat-whisper , @strangelycami , @heatherfilliez , @edgaluten , @parrotdrama

Manhattan, New York, USA 

Watching the still darkened streets of the city through the windows of her new apartment, Isabel smiled as she sipped her scalding cup of coffee. It was a necessity for waking up at this early in the morning despite being a vampire and needing less sleep in general. This was one of many changes that came with her recent promotion to VP of Operations and even though she already had a week under her belt, her nerves still threatened to drown her. Ever since Adrian first broke the news that she had been chosen by the board, she still had doubts about her abilities. 

She had been with the company barely over a year now and at almost 24 she was still the youngest executive at Raines’ Corps. But, somehow six out of nine old mostly white men thought her limited experience was better than the three other candidates in the running. Adrian in fact had nothing to do with the process expect signing off the board’s choice. 

Letting out a sigh, the sound of her phone going off pulled herself out of her head the self-critical thoughts that clouded it. 

A crease formed between her brows as her gaze latched onto the shiny new device on the kitchen counter. She set her coffee mug on the table and picked it up, frowning as a sense of foreboding coiled in her veins when a video popped up all by itself. 

Had her phone been hacked?

The dread grew as she remembered the last time this had occurred. It had been awhile but, being a Bloodkeeper meant being unable to forget much. Back then, it had brought death and destruction. Swallowing, Isabel tapped on the small white triangle and after a minute of loading, it began to play. 

At first, the screen was staticky like from the old TV her parents still kept in the attic. The black and white dots cleared to reveal grainy security footage that made a chill run up her spine. The familiar pink and red surroundings of Serafine’s club were easily discernible. Isabel’s eyes widened in horror as her intuition worked its magic. That night in Paris soon after Gaius’s return. 

“No.”

Much to her dismay, the familiar images of the raid from months earlier appeared. First, the empty VIP room that they had just vacated. Then the Order of the Dawn stormed in and Jax and Seraphine running inside, the first of their group to do so. Isabel then saw Adrian run in before she followed a minute later. 

She already knew what came next but, she couldn’t make the video stop no matter how hard she tried. She was forced to watch his chilling massacre of the Order soldiers, ripping their hearts out one by one and her desperate pleas for him to stop. The video continued until the footage finally cut right before she had gotten through to Adrian. 

Isabel barely had time to process the footage when the much clearer image of an older brunette woman appeared. A loud gasp sounded as she recognized her as Derek’s aunt. His family had always given off a strange vibe, being oddly secretive and around all the time. Then, her gaze homed in on the tiny gold pin engraved with the Order’s emblem fastened to one of the white lapels. 

Her mouth went dry and she almost dropped her phone as she realized that the two were connected and that they were back. 

"Good morning my fellow Americans. I am Phoebe Laskaris,” the woman stated, her voice as hard as steel. “You know me as President of Laskaris Industries, the proud leader in the safe and reliable source of fossil fuel energy around the world."

Isabel’s impression of her hadn't changed since the last time they had seen each other. She was too pristine and a bit abrasive and had always made her feel like she wasn't good enough for Derek's highbrow family. Both she and his father had even blamed her for his abuse of her. Only Phoebe's daughter, who Isabel had befriended during their relationship expressed any concern for her until she abruptly stopped talking to her. 

The plastered on smile disappeared on the woman's face and her expression hardened. 

"But, today I come to you as the co-leader with my brother Alaric of a different organization--The Order of the Dawn. We are a society that is dedicated to the protection of the public from the darkness that has lived among us since the Mayflower landed at Plymouth rock. It is time that you become enlightened aware of the truth that our government is trying to hide. The occult, monsters of the night including vampires are real and every bit as cruel and ruthless as the legends have stated. They have even climbed to the top of our society to bend us to their will in secret. You have just seen the video of what these wretched creatures have committed against our people. Since ancient times they have gotten away with murder and bloodshed. But, their reign of terror ends now. Because the Order of the Dawn is here to stop it--to keep you safe. We just need your support. Together, we can take our country and the world back. This is only the beginning, there will be more to come so that you will know the truth once and for all. Goodbye for now, and may there be peace and order soon."

Isabel sat there paralyzed as the screen cut to black, immediately understanding what this all meant. The Order had come back stronger than before with a plan to eradicate all vampires, and Derek’s family including his own father and aunt were leading the charge. She wondered why she hadn’t run into any of them during the raid in Mydiea but quickly dismissed it since it didn’t matter. 

What did was that her past was threatening what she had now, the best thing that had ever happened to her. Her worst fears were coming true. 

Running over to the living room where the TV was, Isabel fumbled with the remote and switching through the news channels, they all showed the video with panicked headlines about vampires overtaking New York City. She felt herself become slightly nauseous with anxiety as the remote clattered to the ground. 

The one thing that had guaranteed their safety for decades had in fifteen minutes been ripped away. 

It seemed that everyone got the video at the same time and the news would make sure that those who didn’t saw its contents. She hastily turned off the TV and dashed into her bedroom to get ready. She had to be there immediately now that they suddenly had a dangerous crisis on their hands. Isabel threw on the first outfit that came to mind and headed into the bathroom. 

She brushed her teeth and ran a hairbrush through her thick mane just enough to get the tangles out before throwing it into a bun. It was just enough to be presentable. She didn’t even bother putting on any makeup, tossing the products into a small bag instead to take with her for if she needed it later. Right now, it only kept her from being where she wanted and needed to be. 

Taking one brief look in the mirror, she sighed. Her suit and blouse were still covered in wrinkles and her face and hair made her look as distressed as she felt. But, this would have to do for now. Slipping on her shoes, she grabbed her things and rushed out the door. A minute later she was in the elevator. 

While it made it’s way down, she sent a quick text to Adrian letting him know that she was on her way. As soon as it reached the lobby she dashed out and exited the building. 

She swallowed, her stomach tightening as she saw the crowds of people swarming the streets, panicked shouts and screams filling the air. Chaos and fear had already begun to set in and she felt painful anguish for the city she had become completely enamored with. It had already gone through so much when it was destroyed by Gaius while his humanity was still shut off. Now, it was having to go through yet another upheaval that threatened to be even worse.

Passing through Times Square, she stopped suddenly, her face frozen in sickening shock. 

The Order had hacked into every billboard, Adrian’s annihilation of their soldiers and Phoebe’s chilling message on full display on the large screens in an endless loop. Her already increased heartbeat now skyrocketed as anger and panic surged through her. She increased her pace to a full sprint, but was careful not to go inhumanely fast. 

Eventually, when she finally saw the silver skyscraper within view, she was hit with a swarm of reporters. Slowing down, she pursed her lips. Patience was never something she had much of, especially when she was in a hurry. 

“Ms. Martinez, did you know about this?” one of them asked her, sticking the microphone in her face. “Do you still have confidence in Mr. Raines?”

Isabel plastered on her best smile as she took a step back. “I have no comment at this time.”

She thanked God her parents made her take speech and debate as one of her many extracurriculars in high school. as she deftly evaded giving them a substantive answer. As she made an effort to step around the man, another recording device entered her personal space causing her annoyance to turn into full aggravation. 

She bit down on her tongue as unpleasant thoughts raced through her mind for a minute. 

“Is what was in the video true? Are you working for a vampire?”

Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a deep breath. Now was not the time to let her fire out and make this worse. She would have to resort to tactics she only brought out for men who she couldn’t call out for being misogynistic in business meetings.

Turning to the gaggle of people with cameras behind her she told them in a commanding tone, “I cannot tell you anything or answer your questions right now but, I’m sure there will be an official statement sometime soon. For now, that is all I and the company will say on the matter.”

With that, she spun on her heels and weaved through the reporters and the public still trying desperately to get more out of her. But, she was able to outmaneuver them and make it into the building. 

But, there was little relief and she let out a small groan. It was every bit as frenzied inside as it was out. Only a handful of the couple hundred employees had known who Adrian truly was. The rest had found out twenty minutes earlier, just like the rest of the country. Unlike her abrupt introduction, there was no gradual process or a hand to guide their way through. Instead, they were thrown into the very deep end and that meant fear and bedlam. 

She ignored the bombardment of questions and exclamations from her co-workers as she made her way to the elevator. Digging into her purse, she found her key card and inserted it. The doors opened a few seconds later and she stepped inside the empty space. 

As she traveled up to the executive floor, Isabel’s scattered thoughts drifted to Adrian. He had to have gotten the video at the same time as everyone else did. She knew that he wouldn’t handle this well. He already hated himself for what happened ever since that night and since then he was working tirelessly to put that darkness away for good. He even helped her overcome her own in the opera house. 

This attack also put the company in jeopardy since investors and clients needed to trust him and now that was in danger of disappearing. He would take all the blame and self-punishment for the risk his employees faced. All of this meant that he was probably devastated and in need of her now more than ever.

Pulling out her phone, she became concerned when she saw that he hadn’t answered her text. Even in the most hectic times, he always made sure to respond. He was either not there or sitting in his self-destructive thoughts and both scenarios were equally troubling.  

Swallowing, the doors finally reopened onto the executive level and she hopped out, her long strides allowing her to quickly reach the closed door to his office. She pounded on the door harder than what was necessary.

“Adrian? It’s me.”

Hearing no response, she pressed her ear to the ornate wood and discovered that he was in there, the muffled sounds easily audible to her acute hearing. He just didn’t want to let her inside. 

It was one of the habits he had that frustrated her to no end. The times he needed people the most was when he stubbornly wanted to be by himself. But, she couldn’t let him drown in his sorrows alone and quickly decided to take matters into her own hands. 

Luckily, she had recently learned a new psychic power of hers. Concentrating on the metal knob she willed it to move. Ten seconds later, she heard the lock click. Sighing with relief, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. However, she didn’t get very far, abruptly stopping just a few feet from the door frame. 

Adrian sat at the giant desk, his head buried into his hands. This was the image of a man whose previous wrongdoings had all come back to haunt him at once. Hard. She had seen him at many low points since fate had brought them together. This though stood out among them as one of the worst. 

Leaving her purse by the doorway, she rushed to his side in mere seconds. Hearing her light footsteps, he brought his head up to look at her. Her heart broke when she noticed the pink staining his eys and the glistening wet tears that traversed down his cheeks. 

“Oh Adrian...” she murmured, engulfing him in a tight embrace. 

His strong arms locked onto her torso, clinging to her in despair. 

“This is my fault,” he lamented. “All of it. And now people are in danger, including everyone here. All because of me.”

“Hey.” She gently brought his face down to hers. “No, it’s not. You weren’t yourself then. And we all suspected that The Order would come back, maybe even stronger without Xenocrates.”

He shook his head adamantly. “No, it is my doing Isabel. If I...if I hadn’t lost control that day...they wouldn’t be able to use that...use me as a means of terror. And now our people all over the world are in danger. Everything we’ve worked towards...us trying to live in peace, creating a better world. It's all gone.”

The amount of pessimism in his words startled her. It didn’t take much for his idealism to wear thin these days, a permanent scar from what they went through to defeat all their enemies. But, she hadn’t seen it this low since that one conversation they had in The Order’s headquarters. She had proved him wrong then, and it looked like she would have to do the same now.

“That’s what they want us to think,” she reassured him. “But it definitely isn’t. We just have to find a way to win over the public again, be more convincing than they are.”

He blinked at her dubiously. “Fear is hard to overcome Isabel. Especially if it turns into hate, history has proven that. After everything we’ve done to each other, there may be no peace with vampires in it. Maybe...maybe we were doomed from the start, ever since the sap left that damned tree.”

His voice shook with emotion and her already knit brows moved closer together. She opened her mouth to speak but, before she could do so a familiar voice entered the space. 

“Adrian, are you in here?” Kamilah asked, her commanding tone filling the room as she stepped inside. 

Her appearance was unusually unkempt and her eyes were enlarged, shooting around the room before they fixed on the two of them and a hint of recognition and greeting flashed. Upon seeing her, Isabel felt the need to be a little more professional and untangled herself from Adrian’s arms. She quickly found a chair to sit in beside him instead. 

“I’m assuming you’ve seen everything?” she asked. 

She received a weary nod. “Unfortunately. I can’t believe they managed to get it on those billboards.”

Adrian’s eyes widened in horror. Apparently, he hadn’t realized that. “What?”

Isabel bit her lip before confirming it. “They’ve got the video playing on a loop, every single one in Times Square. I saw it on my way here.”

“That’s not all,” Kamilah said. “They’ve also just released a list with the names of every branded vampire in the country. Including everyone on The Council and our clans.”

After Rheya’s defeat, a new version of the Council was created with three new leaders and some changes to make it more democratic and egalitarian. Every vampire in the city received their protection now. 

A new surge of anger coursed through Isabel as their situation went from bad to worse. “They really wanted to make sure everyone knew.” Then, a pang of guilt welled up in her as she thought back to the last few meetings. “I’m sorry I’ve been pushing so hard for you to come out in the open. If I had known that these would be the consequences...I wouldn’t have even suggested it. This should’ve never happened.”

“No, it shouldn’t have. But, don’t be sorry, you were right Isabel. I knew we couldn’t stay a secret forever, it was a matter of when not if. I didn’t think we’d be outed like this before we could do so ourselves. But what’s done is done. We can’t debrief 300 million people even if it were possible, it wouldn’t be right. All we can do now is figure out how to stop the Order and adjust to living out in the open.”

Adrian reiterated his sentiment from before Kamilah arrived. “Is that even possible? You’ve seen what they can do, especially now that they’re all mortals and the American public can be quick to hate with not a lot of rhetoric. They’re only going to get stronger and their arguments are right. We’ve done so much harm, Kamilah, it might be too late to change that now.”

His oldest friend quickly sported an incredulous expression which matched Isabel’s inner feelings. 

“Do you even hear yourself? Of course, we still can, we can at least try. And we have to try. If not for our people, then for them. Humanity. Because we all know that the Order won’t hesitate to kill as many mortals as it takes for our destruction. You and Isabel are the ones who taught me that Adrian, that they’re worth fighting for. Our job should be to save them not hurt them.”

There was a pause as the weight of Kamilah’s words continued to flow through the room. 

Then, Isabel nodded, standing up as tense energy flowed through her. “I agree. It’ll be extremely difficult, but it’s not impossible. Nothing is. We just have to figure out how to play their game and then beat them at it. Turn the public against them. All we have to do is tell the truth, expose who they really are.”

At this, Adrian’s expression only became more troubled. “I don’t know. There’s no way anyone will have confidence in me after this. The whole country thinks I’m nothing but a monster.”

“I don’t,” she countered immediately. “Adrian, I was in the room when that happened, mere feet from you. I’m still here, believing in you. I know I won’t be the only one. People are more understanding than we give them credit for. They just need to feel like that’s okay.”

“But I--”

She couldn’t take it anymore, her brown eyes becoming ablaze. 

“Adrian Henry Raines, listen to me!” she yelled, the bluntness of it shocking him into silence. “If you don’t want to let people down, if you don’t want them to think that you’re a monster, then prove to them that you’re not. We can make a better world by being the ones to end the cycle that Rheya created. None of you have to be like her, or like Gaius or Xenocrates. They’re all dead. Take it from me, the person who came the closest to becoming her.”

Taking a deep breath, the fiery heat extinguished almost as fast as it started to burn. 

With a softer tone, she continued. “I know that the majority of people can still be reached if we put in the effort. Remember that one recruit we spared in the tomb? If he could be persuaded so can they, I promise you. But, the longer we sit here and do nothing, the closer The Order gets to winning them over.”

Her demeanor softened as addressed what he had told her before Kamilah arrived. “Because you forgot about hope, Adrian. The one thing that is stronger than fear. We still have it, but we won’t for long. Unless we do something, stand up for what is right.”

Both her and Kamilah’s gazes fell on him expectantly. After a minute, resolve slowly hardened on his face as their words sunk in. 

“Okay,” he told them with a nod. “Let’s fight, for them. Even if we don’t make it out ourselves.”

Isabel sighed with relief before it vanished as the gravity of their situation weighed them down once more. A sense of urgency began to flow through her once more.

Looking at the two of them, she asked, “What should our first moves be?”

Her mind began to conjure up possible remedies and tactics but, her insecurities about her work made her want to hear their opinions first.

“Well, for starters we’re definitely going to have to call an emergency Council meeting,” Kamilah told them. Then, a grimace appeared on her face. “We’ll have to talk to our own Clans too. If we are to stand a decent chance against the Order, they’ll not only have to be on the same page, but fight with us too when the time comes.”

Isabel traded an uneasy look with Adrian, both sharing her apprehension about this task. The new Clan system had tried them since it’s recreation. While the leaders were all friendly with one another having been hand-picked, the members within each continued to struggle with getting along. This new crisis would only make that worse.

Adrian expressed this sentiment out loud muttering, “I don’t like asking them to risk their lives for us, and it’ll take a lot of convincing for them to do so.”

“I know,” Kamilah sighed. “Arguing against their self-preservation has never been easy, even when there is this noble of a cause. However, it must be done. They have to join us or they’ll be in danger.”

Isabel followed along with this conversation etching the important details permanently into her memory. Until suddenly she became more than just a spectator. 

“As for managing things with the public, what do you suggest Isabel?” Adrian asked her. 

She looked at him with a start as it took a moment for it to register that they wanted her opinion, that this was her job now. When it did, she sat up straight as her mind worked on overdrive. 

“Well, reassuring all our employees is the most important thing,” she eventually replied. “I think a company-wide meeting is one of the first things we should do. I also recommend addressing the public with some kind of statement soon before The Order can release any more propaganda. The press nearly trampled me as I was on my here. They’re anxious for answers.” Then, she came up with an ambitious idea. “In fact, I recommend that we do a full press conference.”

He carefully considered her advice. “Hmm...why’s that?”

Even though she knew that he simply wanted to hear her reasoning it still unnerved her. Luckily she already had her answer. 

“Because they need to hear our side of the story unedited while their minds are still pliable. The best way to do that is to have the reporters come to us. If we do that, we control the narrative and there’s less chance of our words being misconstrued. Plus, we need to reach a large, countrywide audience and this will likely be broadcasted by both the local and national outlets.”

Kamilah nodded approvingly. “It’s bold Adrian, but that’s exactly what we need to be right now. I would have this be first and then your company meeting.”

“How come?” he questioned. 

“It will calm some of their fears and make them more comfortable being in the same room as you.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips before it flattened. “That’s what we’ll do then.” His eyes flicked back to Isabel. “But, you should be the one giving it,” he told her. 

Her eyebrows rose off her forehead. “Me? But, wouldn’t they want to hear it directly from you?”

“Yes, and they will eventually. But, right now they’re scared and less likely to listen to what I have to say, to believe it. They need to be reassured first. You’re the perfect person to do that.”

It didn’t take long for her to catch on. “Because I wasn’t turned that long ago.”

“Exactly. You’re the person who can bridge the gap between us. If they see you, having confidence in me, that will go a long way.”

It made perfect sense to her immediately. Plus, PR was the department she was in charge of directly. “Okay. But before I do, I need a moment to freshen up.” She pointed to her haphazard appearance. “Right now this...does not inspire confidence.”

The comment caused Adrian's lips to twitch up in amusement. "Go ahead, you've got a key to upstairs. I'll call the other council members in the meantime."

"And I'd better check on things at Ahmenet," Kamilah said. "If I'm not back sooner, I'll be here for the meeting. Good luck Isabel."

“Thanks.”

With a final nod, the senior vampire slipped out of the office, Isabel following suit a minute afterward. 

A little less than thirty minutes later, she stood in the lobby of Raines' Corps, trying not to be blinded by the flashes of cameras in her face. Outside, she herself had installed a TV monitor showing a live video where a large crowd had gathered to hear the words. It was also being broadcast on every local and national news channel. A million butterflies fluttered aggressively in her stomach as she went over what she wanted to say in her head. 

Sighing, she flashed a composed smile, looking back at Adrian. He stood a few feet behind her and despite his stoic expression, she could see the anxiety behind it. Meeting her gaze, he gave her a reassuring look. Even though it wasn’t completely authentic it instantly melted her nerves away enough for her to look forward once more, ready to begin. 

Clearing her throat, she stated, "Hello everyone. I'm Isabel Martinez the new Vice President of Operations for Raines' Corps. I'm here to make a brief statement on behalf of the company and Mr. Raines himself about the Order of Dawn video and then I will open things up for some questions from you. Anything that we can answer we will, we want to be as transparent with you as possible regarding what has surfaced today. That includes confirming that the video of the nightclub is real and so is the existence of vampires. This also means that it's true Mr. Raines is one of them." Closing her eyes, she felt her fang descend before she opened them again. “And so am I.”

A cacophony of gasps and shocked whispers erupted from the reporters and she could see a similar reaction from the crowd outside through the special protective windows. It took a few minutes for her to get them under control again enough to speak.

"I know that a lot of you are shocked and frightened right now. I was too when I first discovered the truth, in a similar fashion to you more than a year ago. But, as someone who has worked closely with and befriended many Vampires since then, and then become one of them, I can assure you that there is more to us than what the Order of Dawn wants you to believe. It is true that over the course of history, our kind, including Mr. Raines have done some unspeakable things to humans. But, it's because of how we were taught to behave by the first generations of vampires. Since ancient times, they espoused that humans were the enemy and that there could never be peaceful relations between us. And for a long time, it went unquestioned. Yet, for the past century, this ideology has begun to change. We have begun to realize that there is a way for both worlds to live and thrive without hurting the other. Mr. Raines was one of the first to commit to this idea and since then the amount of vampires who want to cause harm has decreased significantly. And to be honest humans don't really have a right to judge, when they’ve been an equal participant in this bloody conflict since the beginning.”

She paused, her eyes briefly flicking down to the microphone in front of her. As she thought about the Order and what they'd done across the centuries, her blood began to boil with a simmering rage. 

“The truth is The Order of Dawn is no innocent victim. They may have started out with a desire to end the violence but for centuries they’ve become just as bad as vampires. I was there that night, you can see me in the video. So believe me when I tell you this: The Order is the one who started this by attacking the nightclub. They slaughtered both vampires and humans alike. They were just collateral damage to them. Adrian and the other vampires were defending themselves and the humans that were in there, including myself at that time.”

Looking back at him, she collected herself before saying, “Now, that doesn’t excuse his actions, the fact that he went overboard. He knows this and ever since that night, he’s hated himself for it. That person in the video is only a tiny part of who he is. He is still the caring man who is trying to help humanity all around the world. The person who’s helped our city recover from the attack a year ago. He wants you to be safe. A lot of them do. In fact, the very reason why this was kept from you was for your protection.”

She took a sip of water before getting to the crux of her impromptu speech. Her hands curled around the sides of the podium, leaning in towards the crowd.

"Because this is what it all boils down to,” she stated. “Both sides have been fueled by fear and self-preservation for millennia and in response, have hurt each other. It can't go on this way. Which is why we're going to do everything in our power to find a better solution, one where we can live together in peace. And that starts with getting rid of the Order because until they're gone, there will be more violence. We're not expecting you to adjust to this revelation overnight, we know that this news will take time. But, we're hoping that while you do that this doesn't discourage you from your normal routines and we'll do everything we can to help you with that. We've just brought this city back to life after the events of last year and we want to guarantee that it remains safe and thriving for years to come. That will only happen if our two kinds can learn from one another and realize that we are so much better together than we ever were apart." 

As she said the last sentence she realized that everyone was completely silent, their attention squarely on them. They had listened. This meant her damage control strategy working, something that surprised her more than it should have. She also realized that because they weren't so afraid, now they would be receptive to Adrian as well. In fact, they probably needed to hear from him. He could explain the details of his world to them better than she could.  This caused a daring idea to suddenly fly into her head, one that he would certainly balk at. But, her intuition told her that this risk was worth taking. 

And so without his permission, she went with it. 

"Now, I will let Mr. Raines answer some of your questions about vampires.” She could imagine what his expression looked like, and she felt herself begin to sweat. “Like I said at the beginning, we're not going to disclose everything today but, hopefully, we can provide you with enough information to reassure you we are nothing to be afraid of."

She stepped to the side and finally looked back at him behind her. He stared at her with widened eyes, his complexion now a few shades paler than normal. 

"Look, I know I put you on the spot, but they need to hear from you. I know you can do this," she whispered reassuringly. "All you have to do is answer their questions in the same way you did for me."

After a brief hesitation, he gave her a nod and approached the podium, toying with the microphone. "Who wants to go first?"

A young man in the front raised his hand. "How long have vampires existed?" 

Adrian gave him a startled look before it faded into a smile. He obviously didn't expect them to be so benign. "Good question. My kind has been around since the 8th century BCE. Here in America, since the 1700s. Next?"

"How old are you?" A petite blonde asked next before her pale skin reddened. "Oh, was that rude? I'm sorry, I'm just curious!"

At this he had to bite back a laugh, the corners of his eyes creasing. "You're not being rude, that's the first question a lot of people ask. I'm 265."

The reporter's eyes widened. "Woah, that's...pretty old."

"To you yes. But for us vampires, I'm still pretty young. I know some who are thousands of years old."

“Seriously? Wow, that’s...amazing.”

Again, this comment took him aback, and he had to pause for a moment before his smile returned. “You know what? It is, I’ll be sure to pass that onto my friends. Thanks for the question.”

Soon, he had settled into a rhythm and visibly he started to relax.  

"Is it true that the sunlight harms them?"

He nodded. "Yes. However, there were a couple of really old vampires who could walk in the sun without repercussions, but they've all been killed over the years."

"Do you actually drink human blood?" 

"Yes, we'll die without it. But, we don't have to kill to get it. The amount that's necessary at one time is small enough that it can easily get replenished naturally. About the same as a small blood donation. In fact, here in New York, we have rules about this."

"What are they?" 

"Well, one is that we can't feed on anyone who doesn't give us permission. And you'd be surprised how many people let us. There have been some vampires who have broken these rules but, we've been able to discipline them."

An older man raised his hand next. "Does the government know about vampires?"

Isabel's breath caught. Tapping Adrian on the should he met her gaze. "You don't have to answer this one if you can't."

"I'm sure no one will mind if I do," he told her before looking at the crowd once more. "Yes," he announced. "In fact, several decades ago I and five other high profile vampires made a deal. Protection in exchange for secrecy. That's why most people haven't been informed until now. It was for the safety of everyone."

Then, the first reporter asked another question. “Gaius Augustine...the person responsible for the attack last year. Was he...one of you? A vampire?”

Adrian exchanged another look with Isabel. “What do you think? he whispered away from the mic. 

She swallowed, then told him, “Tell them the truth. They...deserve to know.”

He nodded and turned back to the crowd. “Yes, he was. At first, he...wasn’t so cruel. But, he was influenced to develop a personal hatred for humans, partially from what the Order has done. While most of us are nothing like him, he tried to manipulate his progeny, myself included, into believing the same for centuries. What you saw in the video was leftover from that. But, I don’t believe that and I’ve been working hard to move past what remains of his teachings. Even Gaius, before he was killed a couple months ago in opera house incident.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Does that mean Rheya Apostolus was one too?”

“Yes. She was the first vampire, turned by the sap of a special tree thousands of years ago.”

This seemed to satisfy him. Adrian answered several more questions as the topics shifted from fearful ones to curiosity about what was fact and what was fiction. In fact, they were similar to what Isabel wanted to know when she was first catapulted into all of this. They were slowly becoming fascinated instead of frightened. 

Eventually, she decided it was time to end the press conference while they were on a high note before the atmosphere could turn negative once more.  She could only imagine what The Order had up their sleeve next. 

Taking the helm once more she issued a closing statement. "Thank you so much for coming out and letting us tell our side of the story. I'm sure that as the days and weeks go by that we'll be able to provide more information and reassurance. We wish you didn't have to find out this way, but now that the information is out there, we hope that we can continue our mission of making a better world for everyone."

Stepping away from the podium, she stood with Adrian for a moment so that the press could get their photos before ushering them back outside. 

As soon as the last of the press left the lobby, Isabel let out an audible sigh of relief. "That went better than I thought it would."

When she met Adrian's intense stare, she found it tinged with adoration. "I know. How you captured their attention, how you pacified them...it was incredible."

She felt her face become scalding hot at the comment.

Biting her lip, she responded, "It wasn't that special. I just...told them the truth, that we're nothing to be afraid of. And my delivery was definitely not perfect, I counted at least ten mistakes." She fretted frustratingly, her nerves ticking back up again. She could never go without her constant self-critique for too long. "But, still...somehow it reached them anyway."

He responded with an incredulous scoff, his gaze softening at her while it filled with even more warmth than before. 

"Iz, I know you can't help it, but please don't sell yourself short," he expressed tenderly. 

He knew almost as well as she did where the self-doubt stemmed from and tried not to take any of her insecurities about herself or their relationship to heart which she was grateful for.

Taking her hand in his, he continued. "I've seen no one in the nearly three hundred years of being alive who can inspire people the same way you can. Winston Churchill would be envious of you."

At this, her eyebrows rose at his praise, especially with his mention of one of history's greatest orators. "You think I'm really that good?

"I know so. Isabel, I almost gave up today...I came so...so close. More than...I ever have," he stressed, taking her hand in his. "Just like every time before, you're the reason why I didn't. Every time I've come close to the edge, you're the one who's brought me back. Because you're right, hope is stronger than fear...and your words and you're ability to bring people together is why mine is still burning. And now, you've given millions of people that gift too."

She stood there speechless for a few minutes, his remarks stunning her, despite all the times he'd made similar statements before. 

When she regained the ability to think, all she could do was close the gap between them and press her lips to his. The kiss didn't have the feverish intensity they usually did, but it still left them both breathless. It was the kind that spoke of sweetness and security, a warm blanket that made Isabel feel like no matter what chaos they would go through, everything would turn out alright in the end. 

"Mmm," she murmured, reluctantly pulling back and bringing them back into the real world. "Thank you, I needed that."

He gave her a fake pout. "I'm sensing a but here."

Their biggest enemy filled her head once more, and another tense exhale escaped. 

"You're correct. The Order isn't going to destroy itself and we have a lot to do today, we can't celebrate this first accomplishment too much longer. Especially since we've only just begun to win them over. They're still terrified Adrian, I felt it on them even as they left. It's going to take weeks if not a few months for it to go away completely, and I'm sure whatever the Order does next will extend that timeline even longer."

"I really hate that you're right," he replied. 

Her smile returned briefly. "I know, so do I. I love you."

"I love you too."

Neither one of them made a move to let go, savoring this last minute or two of tranquility that they would have for a while. Then, Isabel's phone rang and she was forced to untangle herself from him to answer it. 

Fumbling with the expensive new device, she didn't even look at the Caller ID before answering. 

"Hello?"

"Isabel, thank god you're not busy," a male voice she knew well said. 

This caused her to gasp. "Cal, hi.”

The name made Adrian's brows rise with curiosity. It wasn't weird for him to call them since they had all befriended him a year earlier. He had done so countless times afterward. In fact, he even paid them a visit only a couple of months ago. However, the timing of this one gave them both pause. This had to be more than just to say hi. 

Swallowing she asked, "You sound tense, is something wrong?" 

She vaguely heard the sounds of a bar in the background. A very noisy one. 

"I...uh...yes," he replied. "We got the video of you guys here in New Orleans.”

She let out a groan. “I figured as much. How are they handling it down there?”

“Not great. They released a bunch of names of the families of vamps here. Everyone is freaking out, both supernatural and not. Which means things could turn ugly at any moment and my three Nighthunter friends are the only ones who are equipped to police it all."

Isabel's high spirits took a nosedive. It was worse there than it was in New York. Way worse. Looking around, she realized they couldn’t discuss things in the open like this. Not before they had a chance to address everyone. 

"Okay, stay on the line while I find somewhere more private and then I’ll put you on speaker," she told him.  

“Roger that.”

She took off towards the elevators, urging a now concerned Adrian to follow. The closest place she could think of was her new office which was located halfway up the building. Frantically getting inside she smashed the button to close the doors until they shut. 

"What did he--?" 

She turned to him with and briefly summed up with Cal told her

The implications hit him immediately and his face hardened. "They don't have the rules against killing humans like we do. If they can't get it under control...no one will be on our side.”

"I know. Which is why we can't have any of the employees eavesdropping on us. I guarantee they won't want to be employees anymore if they do."

After what felt like an eternity, the elevator finally stopped on the thirtieth floor and they quickly walked to her office. Stepping in, she locked the door behind them and finally put the phone on speaker. 

“Hey Cal, are you still there?”

“Yep.”

Then, they heard several voices in the background. But, there was less overall noise so, it was clear he had relocated as well. 

“Who’s there with you?” Adrian asked after saying hello. 

There was a brief pause. “Oh! Um, these are two of my Nighthunter friends. You know, the ones I’ve told you about. I told them that I knew you and they...want to talk to you. Since you are the people this cult has used to start all of this.”

“What do you need us to do? I’m assuming if your friends are hunters they don’t really trust us.”

“Correct,” a husky baritone remarked before telling them, “You better have some answers for us before this city turns into a freaking bloodbath!”

He was hushed by a bell-like voice. “Nik! We need their help and insulting them won’t help. Sorry about that, he doesn’t think of you New York vampires very highly. I, on the other hand, am reserving judgement for now.”

Isabel had stopped paying attention after the first few words, her mouth open in frozen shock. As soon as she heard the girl's voice, it triggered a wave of bittersweet memories all at once. She hadn't expected to hear it again for a long time, maybe ever.

Seeing her demeanor change, Adrian's brows furrowed. "What is it?"

"Z-zelenia? Is...that you?" she finally whispered, feeling numb from all the emotions suddenly coursing through her. 

She heard a sigh on the other end. "Hey Isabel. Things have certainly changed since I last saw you.”

The exchange left Adrian speechless and there was silence on the other end as well. 

"Wait, what? You two...already know each other?" Cal exclaimed. 

Isabel nodded even though Adrian was the only one who could see it. 

Meanwhile, she heard Zelenia exhale. 

"Yeah...it's...a long story," she said. 

She was right about that. Isabel had so many lingering questions about the way things ended between them, ones she couldn’t ask out loud. But, one thing was clear to her. While most of Derek’s family seemed to be involved with the Order’s new reign of terror, she felt certain that Zelenia wasn’t one of them. That she had finally rid herself of them.

Her intuition began to tug at her once more and she sensed that this was only just the beginning. That they would have to bring their two circles together and unite the vampire communities to defeat the Order and in the process, she would also get those answers she’s craved for so long. 

She thought she would be angry talking to her again and while she did feel hurt she also felt relief as well. Maybe even a twinge of happiness. It was her family that was the problem, not her. 

After a minute, she replied, “One that’s...apparently not finished yet.”

~*~

#playchoices #choices stories you play #bloodblound #nightbound #adrian x mc #adrian x isabel #a new world order au #adrian raines #kamilah sayeed #cal lowell #nik ryder

[the-faxx-macheen]

Irken Armada Parking Only

-Chat Rules-

1. No ship art!! (Whether it's PG or R rated)

- This chat is not an anti chat, however I did make it because I'm not up to snuff with digging through tons of porn and romance only to find one piece of nice platonic fan content once every millennium. And I'm sure there's some folks who would care to skip it as well. This chat is mostly a dumping ground for good fan content that doesn't relate to ships. Does that mean shippers aren't allowed? No, you can come on in but be mindful of what you want to share and what tags it has.

2. Be mindful of others!

- Do not post anything that could be rated above PG-13, I'm talking no graphic content at all! The IZ fandom is huge and some folks may not be comfortable with that or they may be minors. (This also includes swearing)

- Do not use this chat to start picking fights! I don't really care who's posted what on their blog before or what beef you guys have with each other. IAPO is a Deadman Zone, it's a gray area. You leave all your trouble out the door when you come in, I'm not your babysitter and nobody else is either so be polite or get out.

- Do not come into this chat planning to spam and be a jerk. What I mean is don't come in here spamming endlessly because you think you're defending your "rights" as a shipper or an "anti". This probably fits under the previous addendum but I wanted to make sure you can find it, just in case because really you can't trust the internet.

- Do not give out/ask for any personal information in this chat! True chat does get wiped basically every 24 hours however I wouldn't give that an inkling of it as a safety net. There are a lot of creeps out there on the net and while I don't want to fear monger you all, it's better safe than sorry. And if you come in here planning to creep on or harass anybody I will kick and report you immediately.

Well off the top of my head I think that's everything really important. The rules around here are pretty lax except for when you break them. And do remember I offer Zero Tolerancy so if you step out of line even once I will kick you from the chat (and depending on the severity of the rule broken I will report you). Perhaps it'll be safe to assume I'm always watching (because I have nothing better to do ahem).

Oh well I suppose one last thing

3. Have fun...

- It's just a dumb chat on the internet made for dumb reasons guys, it's nbd. Be stupid, go crazy, but don't overdo it.

#sorry for the awful format i chill on mobile usually #pcs are a pain #anyways yeah #rules page #rules #chat rules #irken armada parking only #iapo chat #invader zim #iz #and that's all i'll tag #but now i'll go tag the chat so you guys can find it

[sunlightdances]

Blooming in the Shadows (2/6)

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader Rating: Overall PG-13 because of canon-typical violence. Also swearing. Words: 1,877 (this part) Warnings: Angst! Dean and the Reader swearing like sailors! Mutual pining with a dash of bed sharing and a slow burn romance added in for extra fluffy goodness. Summary: You and Dean Winchester are barely friends. His sudden reappearance from Hell brings you together, and you find yourself right back in the life you ran away from when you were a teenager. (Canon AU that takes place during season 4, specifically starting at 4.01 - for reference, Dean is 29)  A little more back story in this part, and a lot of dialogue. This part is shorter than the rest - sorry! More action to come next week.  Catch up on this story by visiting the masterlist on my blog! 

Dean fights the urge to scratch at the burn mark on his shoulder. Bobby notices, and frowns.

“That thing bothering you?”

“Only because I don’t know how the hell it got there.” Dean replies, scowling. He’s still confused, and thinks he might end up in a permanent state of confusion if he doesn’t get some answers soon.

He doesn’t understand who or what pulled him out of the pit, or why, and he doesn’t understand how you of all people were the one to find him. He doesn’t understand why Sam isn’t here.

His first thought when he saw you there, in the gas station, was that you were the one to get him out. It sounded… completely unreasonable. You just wouldn’t do that. But besides Sam, who else would do it? Bobby, maybe. But he wasn’t that reckless.

“Listen, I think you should get some rest before you go find Sam.”

Dean wants to argue. For being basically dead for the last 4 months, he feels like he hasn’t slept in years. The idea of stuffing his face with some pizza and passing out on the couch also seems like a good idea, though.

“Yeah. I’ll go in the morning.”

“Take her with you, will you?” Bobby asks, and holds up a hand before Dean can protest. “You need someone watching your back.”

Dean doesn’t answer. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you move around in the kitchen, gathering up a plate. The sound of the cupboards opening and closing takes him back to another time, years ago, before everything went to shit.

“Fine. It’s going to take us a few days to get there though, and if we kill each other on the way, it’ll be your fault.” Dean says, and he’s only half-kidding.

Later, Dean’s exhausted but he doesn’t let himself close his eyes. He can’t. If he does, he knows what he’ll see behind his closed eyelids, and he won’t risk it.

Goosebumps break out across his arms at the thought, and he hopes you haven’t noticed. You’re looking at him from across the room in the easy chair though, and he wants to curse, because despite how many years there are between you now, he still knows you’re the most perceptive, observant person he’s ever met. Not much gets past you.

While he’s in need of a distraction, his finds himself taking you in, from the cuts littering your jaw and arms from the glass exploding out of your car to the freckles dusting your cheekbones, Dean idly wonders how long it’s been since the last time he’s seen you.

You’ve popped in for hunts here and there, but mostly made yourself scarce. He thinks the last time he really hunted with you was three years ago, and even then he made sure Sam was around to act as a buffer between the two of you.

“You need to eat something.” You say, and he glances over, face neutral. “At least eat a sandwich.”

Dean can’t stand the look in your eyes - something like pity - so he lashes out. “What do you care?”

You flinch. You try to hide it, but Dean can see the hurt behind your rapid blinks before you slip back into nonchalance.

“Fine.” You stand up and head towards the stairs, but stop. “You know,” you don’t turn around, “If we’re going to do this, you need to get over whatever childish grudge you’re holding.”

“I’m not--”

“I’d love to get back in my car and head back to my friends, but you need my help. And despite whatever you think about me, I still kind of care if you’re alive or dead. So I’m going with you.”

You go upstairs before Dean can get a word in, and he tries not to let your words get to him so much. He shouldn’t care that you hate his guts. He shouldn’t care that you’ve suddenly shown up again after years of distancing yourself.

Before he can close his eyes, the TV starts to get fuzzy in front of him, and the lights start to flicker. Dean’s on his feet in an instant, already preparing for the noise he knows is about to come.

Sure enough, the high pitched wail almost brings him to his knees, and before he can get his bearings, you’re barreling down the stairs, gun drawn, Bobby close behind you.

Wide-eyed, you stare at him. “Shit,” you breathe, and he nods in agreement.

“We have to go. Now.”

.

.

.

Dean is behind the wheel because if he can’t be in control of even just this one thing, he’s going to lose it.

It’s an old car of Bobby’s, not a muscle car, but it’ll get the both of you to where you need to go, and that’s all that matters. Urgency thrums in Dean’s veins.

He thinks he should be tired, but all he feels is adrenaline. Going on no sleep probably isn’t a good idea, but he can’t risk that whatever’s tracking him down is going to find him when he’s his most vulnerable.

He glances over at you and sees you slumped against the window, looking miserable. He wonders if you’re just like this all the time or if it’s specifically his presence that’s making you look like someone kicked your puppy.

“I only have enough money for one room tonight,” you say, voice low. “Bobby wanted to spot us but--”

“One room is fine,” he says automatically, not really thinking about what it’s going to be like to be in close quarters for a day or two.

He feels your eyes on him and tries not to feel uncomfortable under your gaze. He can’t help it. “What?” He finally snaps, and hears you huff.

“Nothing.”

He rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re going to be stuck with each other for a few days--” You snort in amusement, but Dean ignores it, “We might as well be civil.”

“I’ve been perfectly pleasant.”

Dean feels like if he clenches his jaw any tighter, he might break a tooth. “Whatever. Look I’m--” He shakes his head, not even sure where to begin. “Never mind. Let’s just find a place and get some sleep.”

Almost as if on cue, the neon lights of a motel shine like a beacon in the darkness up ahead. If Dean presses down a little harder on the accelerator, you don’t seem to notice, or at least don’t say anything. The atmosphere inside the car is tense and near suffocating.

There’s a brief moment where Dean hates himself. Because even though he’s told himself for years that your decision to leave was just that - yours - he knows he didn’t help matters.

You’re out of the car before he can even put it into park, marching into the motel office like you own the place, and Dean exhales loudly, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to deal with this.

You’re back in ten minutes. “Surprise. I had enough for two rooms. See you in the morning.” You toss a key in his lap and then reach in the back for your duffel bag, hauling it over your shoulder and heading inside one of the rooms before Dean can say anything.

.

.

.

A nightmare wakes him up at two in the morning.

He lurches from the bed, sweat dripping off his forehead and making his t-shirt stick to him, his chest heaving as he struggles to get his bearings.

Here. Alive. You’re not there, not anymore. Above ground. Alive. He repeats it over and over, a mantra he can’t let himself forget.

He’s just pulling a shirt on over his head when he hears it - the beginnings of that piercing noise again, and he braces himself, eyes flicking around the room wildly, trying to pinpoint where it’s coming from.

He’s just about to clamp his hands over his ears when he hears you in the room nextdoor, a scream of his name escaping you.

Dean doesn’t think, he just moves as quickly as he can, gun clenched in one hand as he runs out the door, pausing for a half second in front of your room before he kicks the door open.

You’re crouched on the floor next to your bed, eyes screwed shut tightly and hands clamped over your ears. He can’t remember ever seeing you look so scared.

“Kid,” he says, walking close, kneeling in front of you.

“Dean,” you say, but it’s barely a whisper, and something about your voice weaves itself around his heart and clenches tight. “Jesus Christ,” you whisper, taking your hands away from your head. Your wide eyes meet his. “Did you see it?”

“I didn’t see anything, I just heard you screaming.” Dean says, willing his voice to stay steady. He’s unnerved seeing how upset you are. You’ve always been cool, calm, and collected.

“It was here, in the room, I didn’t see it, not really, but Dean-- this is… we are way out of our league here.” You tell him, meeting his eyes again. He’s taken aback by the seriousness in your eyes.

“Come on… we need sleep. We shouldn’t be separated.” Dean says, surprising himself by rising to his feet and holding his hand out for you to take, pulling you upright with him.

You go willingly, too quiet for what he’s used to. It scares him - the way this thing affected you. He scratches at the days-old stubble on his jaw. Why would it go after you, and not him? Was it an attack? A warning?

“Make yourself comfortable,” Dean says, watching as you stand at the foot of the bed staring at it. “Look, just-- we both need sleep. I won’t-- I’m not gonna put the moves on you, if that’s what you’re…”

“God, Dean. Shut up.” You snap, and Dean feels it as if it were a physical touch. He recoils slightly, rocking back on his heels.

“Fine.” He gets into bed, not waiting for you to do the same.

He forces himself to close his eyes and has a brief moment of hoping he won’t have another nightmare before he falls asleep.

.

.

.

There’s sunlight on his face and his right arm is asleep.

He opens his eyes and feels pressure on his fingertips. His first instinct is to freeze, but then he remembers. You.

He looks over, and his heart stutters at the sight - you’re on your side facing him, forehead pressed against his shoulder. Your arm is wound around his, your hand firmly in his grasp as you sleep.

Right then, watching you sleep, Dean knows. The feelings he had for you when you were younger haven’t gone anywhere. They’re just there, under the surface, waiting for him to be vulnerable enough to let them back in, letting the tendrils of affection and attraction in equal measure wrap around his heart and squeeze until it aches.

All this time, he’s pushed every thought of you away. He’s pushed away the image of your face when he told you to leave Bobby’s and not come back, and he’s pushed away anything you’ve ever made him feel, because your leaving was inevitable.

Dean has always known that. Everyone leaves.

He disentangles himself from your embrace.

It’s better this way.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #blooming in the shadows fic

[professormemebrane]

Holy shit we’re SO CLOSE to 400 and we JUST reached 300 a few days ago! Maybe I should write a small recap...

OKAY, so this account is the main account and is mostly PG-13 except I push it sometimes with a few asks and also allow R-rated language and drug and alcohol use and stuff. While it’s the “main” Membrane account, it’s actually a side blog, and follows and likes will come from my personal which is @manicjimmy!

There is an adult account but you gotta PM me with your age to get a link. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don’t lie about your age because that’s happened to me a few times and it always leaves me feeling paranoid and gross. The adult account still follows Tumblr’s no NSFW rule, but allows riskier asks and features kink content (all tagged for those not into it). It’s not 100% raunchy all the time and sometimes I make silly answers, just know that going in.

AS FOR ME you can call me Jimmy or Jonny (like Johnny without the H) and I’m the guy who runs the blog and draws the stuff! I’m a 29 year old trans man who uses male pronouns only! I’m short and have a gross southern accent. I’m also bipolar so sometimes my mental health fights me and stops me from being productive so please be patient with me! Also for Tumblr bonus points I’m aro/bi! XD OH, and I have three amazing cats that I’m VERY PROUD OF and will probably feature sometimes out of nowhere for no reason.

That being said, I’m bad to get chatty because I love socializing and there will be FREQUENT ooc posts and convos with the anons but I’m gonna try and remember to start tagging that stuff for the people who are here for the main reason: THE ART. XD But yeah, I’m sorry in advance if things get out of hand.

Oh, and I like to drink. A LOT. So I get drunk and make drunk posts sometimes. Don’t be alarmed if I suddenly start talking in gibberish and posting dumb shit. Even mildly drunk me loses fucking control of his typing. I WILL BE FINE. Also if that happens, feel free to unfollow me for the night until I sober up and clean the blog up. I will not be offended. XD

On the same note, sometimes I forget to switch my blogs over and posts things here that are meant for my main. Keep this in mind if I post something dumb and confusing. XD

Anything else?? OH, I guess the main tags are “ask” for the answered asks and “art” for any art I do that is not a response. If you wish to not see my face (or alternatively look for my face if you’re curious) the tag for that is simply “mun”.

Otherwise I DO have a rules page! I’m not real strict about it but it has a few dos and don’ts if you’re wondering about asking certain things. I think that’s about it finally. XD

I guess this wasn’t such a small recap after all, but it should tell you EVERYTHING you need to know! THANKS GUYS!!!

[theycallmebeccawrites]

Perfectly Imperfect: Chapter 1

With Tumblr holding my original writing blog @beccaheartschrisevans captive (aka flagged as explicit), I have made a secondary writing blog and may end up closing the other all together. In the meantime, I am reposting all of my stories on my new blog.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Wren Arnold (OFC)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: n/a

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Perfectly Imperfect Masterlist | Chris & Wren Masterlist

Prologue

Chapter 1

April 17, 2020

Going to the grocery store after a long week at work was the last thing that Lauren "Wren" Arnold wanted to do, but she didn't have a choice if she wanted more than wine for dinner. Though, after the day she'd had, wine would play a large roll in her unwinding for the evening.

The day had started relatively normal and had been that way until about lunchtime, when she'd gotten a call from the school nurse informing her that two of her students were out for the day due to head lice. Having taught Kindergarten for nearly ten years, Wren had known that the rest of the day would be lost to the rest of the class being checked for head lice. She'd read book after book while her students had been checked by the school nurse and other volunteers. In the end, two additional students were found to be victims and they'd been sent home early while the rest of the class had been sent home with letters informing parents of the outbreak.

Wren, herself, had been subjected to a check once the class had left for the day and she, thankfully, had been free of the nasty bugs. She had then spent an extra hour working with the school nurse and janitor to give her classroom a thorough cleaning.

Now it was after six in the evening and Wren was just getting to the grocery store, something that usually happened a little after four on a normal Friday. She grabbed a hand-held basket then pulled out the handwritten grocery list she had compiled before the phone call and referenced it as she made her way through the fruits and the vegetable section.

After getting the fresh produce that was on her list, she made her way into one of the center aisles and grimaced when she heard a little kid crying loudly. The sound grew louder as she made her way up and down the aisles, grabbing what she needed. As she passed the aisle that the poor child was on, she couldn't help but steal a glance in their direction and froze when she recognized the upset little girl and her dad.

Hurrying towards them, Wren pulled a smile onto her face and used her best teacher voice to say, "Oh my, what's going on here?"

Father and daughter turned to look at her and she couldn't tell who was happier to see her: Chris Evans or his two, nearly three, year old daughter. A look of relief had washed over Chris's tired face as Adelaide "Addy" Evans stopped crying.

"What's wrong, Addy?" Wren asked as she dried the little girl's tears with her thumbs.

"We missed nap time," Chris explained. "And then I wouldn't let her bring her teddy bear into the grocery story." He raked his hand through his hair. "It's been a rough day, but we don't have anything in the house for dinner so…"

"You shop, I'll push and entertain her," Wren told him. She handed him her basket and he put it into the shopping cart.

"You might as well give me your list, too," he said, motioning for her list.

"How do you know I have a list?" Wren asked.

"Because you never go anywhere without a list," Chris stated. "You love making lists and you've been doing it the entire 24 years I've known you. So hand it over."

"Fine," she replied, handing over the list. "But stick to the brand names and ask if you have any questions."

Wren followed Chris through the store as she talked with Addy. Seeing the pair of them tonight was just what she needed after her horrible day. The single dad and his little girl had become a favorite treat to her otherwise boring life. Not that she would admit that out loud to anyone, especially not to her roommate Heidi, who happened to be the guidance counselor at the elementary school Wren worked at.

After three years of relative silence, Chris had blown back into Wren's life five months ago, a few weeks before Christmas. She'd heard via his older sister that his wife, Jessa, had filed for divorce in November, a few weeks after their third wedding anniversary. Wren knew it had come as a complete shock to Chris and he had spent the first few months in Boston being angry at the world and everyone in it save for Addy.

Wren knew very little about the divorce and the reasons for it. Articles about it reported 'irreconcilable differences', but Chris had been relatively quiet about it all, other than the occasional choice word for his ex-wife. Whatever his personal feelings about Jessa were, he refused to let anyone speak badly about her in front of Addy.

Chris's reentry into Wren's life had been relatively seamless. The first few months had been kind of rocky, mostly because of his attitude, but he was slowly becoming the Chris she loved and remembered. And Addy was adorable, smart, funny and Chris’s mini me. She had taken the cross country move remarkably well for a two and a half year old and was thriving under all the love showered on her by her grandma, aunts, uncles and cousins.

Said family members had been sad, but had understanding, when Chris had decided, a month ago, that it was time for him and Addy to get their own place. Not that he had moved very away, having purchased a modest three bedroom, two and a half bathroom house a block away. Wren knew they were still adjusting to it being just the two of them, but she had faith that Chris would figure it out, it was obvious to anyone who looked at him that he loved his little girl.

"Ok, I think that's everything," Chris said as he dropped a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream into Wren's basket.

"That wasn't on my list," Wren told him.

"But a head lice kit is," Chris stated, bringing up the last item that was scribbled on her list. "I think you need the ice cream."

"Chris, it's not part of my budget," she replied. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes; he might be able to afford anything his heart desired, but she had a strict budget.

"I'm paying for your groceries tonight," he told her then gave her a look that dared her to argue.

"Fine, but then I want an expensive bottle of -" Wren stopped when Chris pulled a bottle of her favorite wine out of her basket, making it clear that he had already swapped out the cheaper version when she had been distracting Addy. "I was joking, but I won't say no."

As they reached the checkout counters, they found long lines. They attempted to find the shortest one, but it was only a few minutes before Addy started fussing again.

"I can take her out to the car, if you'd like," Wren offered.

Chris fished his car keys from his pocket and then handed them to Wren. He told her where he parked and then hoisted Addy out of the cart. He gave her a raspberry on her neck, making her giggle, and then set her feet on the ground.

Wren took Addy's hand and led the little girl out of the grocery store. They sang a nursery rhyme as they looked for Chris's car. Once they had found it, they sat in the backseat together, with Addy holding onto her beloved teddy bear, while they waited for Chris. After a few minutes, Addy crawled onto Wren's lap and laid her head on her shoulder and Wren couldn't help but hold her close.

By the time Chris got to the car, Addy was asleep. He put his groceries into the trunk and then helped Wren transfer Addy into her car seat. The little girl slept through the process of being buckled in and didn't even flinch when Chris closed the door.

"Thank you for your help today," Chris said to Wren. "I was about to lose my mind. She was crying and I couldn't remember a thing I needed to buy."

"Maybe you should start making actual, handwritten lists," Wren teased as she pushed his shoulder. "But I'm happy I was there to help."

Chris laughed and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight.

Wren felt her heart skip a beat as she breathed in the comforting scent that was his cologne mixed with a faint hint of baby powder, laundry soap and men's soap. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him back, loving the way she felt safe and secure in his arms.

The honk of a horn startled them and Chris let go of her, forcing her to let go of him.

"I'd walk you to your car, but," he nodded towards his sleeping daughter.

"It's ok," Wren assured him. She grabbed the shopping cart and gave him a quick wave before she pushed the cart to her car. She loaded her groceries into the backseat of her car then returned the cart.

It wasn't until she arrived home and started unloading her bags of groceries that she saw that Chris had snuck a few other things into the basket while she hadn't been paying attention: a box of Twinkies, their go to after school snack before play practices, and a carton of Milk Duds, her favorite movie theater candy.

Wren shook her head and grabbed her phone. She quickly typed him a text and sent it to him.

Thanks for the Twinkies and the Milk Duds.

He responded a second later:

Thought you needed them with all that healthy crap. Addy is awake. TTYL

Wren chuckled and set her phone aside. She put a frozen dinner into the microwave and poured herself a glass of wine while she waited for it to cook. Then she carried her dinner over to the couch and settled down.

The desire she'd had to drown herself in wine when she'd left work was now gone and she didn't need her therapist roommate to tell her what the reason was.

Chapter 2

Want to find me off tumblr? I'm @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

My tag list is always open, just let me know if you'd like to be added!

#chris evans #theycallmebecca #beccaheartschrisevans #theycallmebeccawrites #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #perfectly imperfect #chris and wren #chris evans x ofc #chris evans as a dad #chris evans x original female character

[our-smooty]

Take Me to Church Chapter 13: Date

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: 2doc

Tags: Car Accidents Angst Hurt/Comfort Drugs/Alcohol Implied/Referenced Suicide SuicideHealing Everything Hurts

Summary: The band is back together, but things are… weird to say the least. But when a crisis arises, can they pull it all together and be a family again?

Link to other Chapters on my Blog!

The next two days passed much the same as the one after the day at the hospital. 2D and Murdoc practised music, hung out, and generally goofed off together. Sometimes they fucked, but mostly they just enjoyed each other's company. Russel was around, but he seemed to be going out more and the other two were too busy with each other to question it.

Friday morning, three days after the hospital visit, they were all crowded around the breakfast table debating which of their albums would win in a fight when Russel’s phone rang. Murdoc paused mid-laugh to glance at it and saw the caller was Dr. Cavenaw. Russel saw as well and quickly answered.

“Russel Hobbs speakin’. Yes. Yes thank you. I understand. Yes, OK, see you then.” As quick as the conversation began it ended, and Russel sighed.

“Who was that Russ?” 2D asked with his mouth full of the pancakes they’d made. Murdoc didn’t say anything but he waited with bated breath, the good morning he’d been having taking a sharp downward spike.

“That was Noodle’s doctor. She said that they started the process of wakin’ her up yesterday and she’s been showin’ some good signs. She also said we could come back tomorrow and try to help by takin’ to her and stuff, get her to wake up on her own,” he explained. 2D jumped out of his chair and pumped a fist in the air. Murdoc felt sick.

“Muds did you hear that? Noodles gonna wake up soon! We can go see here again!” Murdoc watched him jump around. Satan, what he wouldn’t give to just feel happiness at the idea of Noodle waking up. Because he was happy, he was fucking ecstatic that his baby girl was going to wake up and get back to normal but the looming dread of what might happen after hung over him like a noose.

“Calm down D, before you go and hurt yourself,” Russel warned. Murdoc stood and walked to the fridge, grabbing two bears and tossing one to the singer. The younger barely caught it, and Russel raised an eyebrow.

“Guys its ten in the morning.”

“It’s celebratory,” Murdoc snapped, draining half the can in one go. 2D cracked his open and took a sip as Russel shrugged.

“Right well, you two have fun with that.” Russel cleared his plate and put it in the sink, heading off to his room. Murdoc watched him go as he opened another beer.

“Isn’t it great Murdoc, Noodles gonna be awake soon,” 2D sighed happily, spinning in circles in the middle of the kitchen. He rounded on Murdoc with a big smile, which slowly faded as he saw the look on the bassist’s face. “Aren’t you happy?”

“Yeah mate, I am. I promise it’s jus’...” he trailed off with a shrug. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, why couldn’t he just be happy that Noodle was alive and going to be ok? For some reason, his brain wouldn’t allow him to just be happy instead of worrying about what might happen.

“You’re still worried she’s gonna hate you.” 2D hit the nail on the head and Murdoc flinched. There was no doubt in his mind the guitarist would want nothing to do with him once she was up and kicking again. Then he’d be back to having nothing; no band, no fame, and certainly no family.

“I’ve fucked up too many timed Stu, I don’t see how she could forgive me.” It’d be easier to bite the bullet and get it over with, leave before she could tell him to. It would hurt less.

“I’ve forgiven you, haven’t I?” The singer asked and Murdoc paused.

“Actually, you’ve never said you have,” he said slowly. Now it was 2D’s turn to pause for a second. He seemed to be thinking rather hard because he was doing that little thing with his tongue, the one where he stuck it in and out between his missing teeth. Murdoc had found it annoying, but now it was almost endearing.

He must have come to a conclusion because he nodded his head and strode towards the Satanist with a look of determination. Coming to stand directly in front of Murdoc 2D placed his hands on the shorter man’s shoulders.

“Murdoc, I forgive you,” he said, slowly and clearly, looking right into the bassist's eyes. A brief silence, a blink from the bassist, and suddenly Murdoc found himself in a crushing embrace. He wasn’t sure if he pulled Stu in, or if Stu pulled him in, but it didn’t really matter. All that mattered what the sense of relief he felt at those three words, words that until this morning he didn’t even really think he needed to hear.

“I forgive you Muds, but I dunno if I’m gonna be able to forgive you if you crush the life outta me,” 2D joked. Murdoc barked a laugh and let him go, a little embarrassed but too high on endorphins to care.

“Sorry, mate, sorry,” he chuckled as he let go, giving 2D’s arm a friendly pat. He felt better, lighter, somehow. Like maybe he should be celebrating.

They were still quite close together, so it wasn’t hard for Murdoc to lean in and plant a kiss on Stuart's lips. The singer kissed back willingly, openly. There was a moment, when their tongues touched briefly, where Murdoc thought about deepening the kiss, pushing 2D against the counter, and letting the taller man take him right there in the kitchen. He thought about how good it would feel, to ride this wave of relief and happiness right into something more carnal.

And he didn’t.

Instead, he pulled back, finished the kiss with a breathy laugh and let the singer go. 2D seemed reluctant but stepped back and Murdoc was grateful. If the singer had kept going, or been insistent he wasn’t sure if he had the willpower to keep thing PG.

“Heh, you’re a pretty aggressive hugger, aren’t you Muds?” 2D teased, but Murdoc was in too much of a good mood to snap back. Instead, he chuckled and sipped the beer he’d managed to hold on to during their moment. “So what are your plans for today?”

“The same as the last couple days?” he asked, feeling like 2D was going somewhere with his questions. His assumption turned out to be correct when 2D shook his head and scolded him.

“Murdoc we can’t jus’ keep doin’ the same thing every day. I don’t think we’ve been outside since Monday!” The bassist didn't really see the problem with that but gestured for Stu to continue.

“So I  was thinkin’ we could go out an’ do some shoppin’? Maybe get a few gifts for Noodle to make her room feel homier.” Despite still feeling nervous about seeing Noodle tomorrow, Murdoc couldn’t help but agree.

“Fine, we’ll go out. Go ask Russ if he wants to come while I get ready.” 2D scampered out of the kitchen excitedly as Murdoc watched on. Sometimes he swore the other was more a child than a 40-year-old man.

Russel declined the offer to go out, which 2D thought was weird since going out had been all the drummer had done in the last week. He tried to convince him, but Russel had just shaken his head with a funny smirk.

“Nah, you and Murdoc go have fun together,” was all he had said before shooing 2D out of his room. The singer was a little disappointed but figured Russ had his own plans so he got himself ready to meet Murdoc downstairs.

Shuffling into the front hall, 2D picked out a pair of chucks and sat on the steps. When he’d asked Murdoc to go out he hadn’t really had a plan. As much as he enjoyed working on music and shagging, he didn’t want to spend another day cooped up in the house. Getting gifts for Noodle was just an excuse to get out and about. Besides, it would be good for Murdoc to get some fresh air. The bassist had been in better spirits over the last few days but 2D was still keeping an eye on him.

He was still worried that the other might do something he’d regret. At times like then, when they were separated, the fear he’d felt up on the roof would come back and he’d have to force himself not to go barreling through the house looking for his mate. They hadn’t talked about any of that since Monday, mostly because 2D didn’t know what to say.

“Alright, D?” Murdoc asked, stomping down the stairs in his Cuban heels and startling the singer. He was quite bundled up, with a sweater, scarf, and leather gloves. 2D looked down at his own t-shirt and jeans. “You’re gonna want to grab a jacket, mate.”

“Is it cold out?” he asked, trying to remember what the weather had been like the last time they went outside. A side effect of the multiple brain injuries was that his memory was a bit shit.

“D it’s the end of September, of course it’s cold. Go get a jacket,” Murdoc sighed. “I'll go start the car.”

After fighting through the hall closet and wrestling his fall jacket from the grips of a particularly feisty umbrella stand 2D walked outside and got in the passenger seat. Murdoc hadn’t been drinking as much recently, so he wasn’t too worried about the bassist driving them around.

“So, where to then?” Murdoc asked as he sat down. 2D thought for a few minutes before an idea hit him.

“Why don’t we head downtown and check out the music shops, see if we can find any cool old records?” When he was younger he loved browsing through the shops with his mates looking for interesting records.

“Sounds good mate,” Murdoc agreed and they were on their way. They weren’t too far from the downtown core, they probably could have taken the train instead but there was always the chance of being recognized out in public and 2D didn’t really want to risk it. Not with all the press about Noodle.

When they got downtown they picked out a parking space and wandered towards the shops. Murdoc was chattering on about something on one of his soap operas, so 2D wasn’t paying attention other than the hum or nod occasionally. It was a lot busier than he’d expected, with people crowding the storefronts and pushing along the walkways.

“So then  he says that she was the one who bought the gun--Stu can you please try to keep up?” Murdoc griped. He didn’t seem to be having trouble moving through the crowds despite being almost a head shorter.

“I’m tryin’ Muds but people keep pushin’ me!” he whimpered as another person shouldered him. Murdoc shot him a frustrated look, then held out his hand.

“Come on, you git,” he huffed. 2D took his gloved hand and let Muroc lead him through the crowds. People moved out of the way for Murdoc, probably because he was so cranky looking, and 2D had a much easier time getting along with Murdoc’s hand in his.

They stopped at a couple of the more popular and mainstream music stores along the way, having a good laugh when they came across a poster of Gorillaz for sale in one. 2D even convinced Murdoc to take a selfie with the selection of Gorillaz albums and CDs under the pretence that Noodle would enjoy it. He knew, secretly, that Murdoc got a kick out of seeing all the Gorillaz stuff on sale.

Eventually, they got to a quieter part of downtown off the beaten track, though Stu kept a tight grip on Murdoc just the same. The shops down that end had more to the stuff they wanted to look through and they spent a good amount of time combing through the piles and piles of records comparing finds.

“I don’t think we have this one, do we Muds?” 2D asked, holding up a copy of A Night at the Opera. Murdoc scoffed.

“It’s Queen, D. Of course we have that one.” 2D giggled and put the album aside. Murdoc had an absolutely astonishing amount of records buried away in his room that the band had collected over the years.

“M’glad you can remember Muds. My brain’s like a siv,” he lamented, continuing to dig through the piles. Occasionally he would hold up an album for Murdoc’s consideration, but they mostly explored in silence. At one point Murdoc disappeared for a little and that now-familiar feeling returned, but 2D found him skulking around the poster and memorabilia section. They accumulated a good pile of music after and eventually left the shops.

“D’you want to get somethin’ to eat Murdoc?” 2D asked as they walked back down the street. The bassist had also been a lot better about eating as well, but Stu was getting tired of pizza and leftovers.

“If you want, I don’t care,” he answered, which wasn’t the answer 2D was looking for but it was good enough. He looked around the street for somewhere interesting and spotted a little Mexican place that looked quite cozy.

“Oh! Let’s go there!” he exclaimed excitedly and Murdoc shrugged. 2D grasped the bassist hand again and led him across the street and into the little restaurant. Inside was warm and colourful and surprisingly empty.

“Table for two please!” he said to the waitress with a big smile. She led them to a booth and left them with menus.

“Muds, these menus are in Spanish. I dunno Spanish!” he fretted. Murdoc rolled his eyes and pointed to the main section.

“Pick somethin’ here that has a picture you like an’ I’ll tell you what it is,” he instructed, looking over the menu himself.

“You can speak Spanish?” 2D gaped, eyes wide. Murdoc nodded.

“Picked it up in prison. S’not so hard after you’ve got the basics. Or if you’ve got a big guy named Lenny shouting it at you every day.” 2D stared in awe for a moment, partially at how casual Murdoc was being but also because he’d had no idea. How do you live with someone all that time and not know they can speak another language. He eventually pulled himself away from watching Murdoc read the options and looked down.

“What about this?” he asked pointing to something completely random on the page. Murdoc looked over, standing in his seat a little to see over the table. HIs hair fell into his face and 2D got distracted by the way it made his deep-set eyes even more noticeable.

“Pollo Picado, that’s chicken with peppers and tomato sauce. Sounds good,” 2D barely heard a word the Satanist said, too busy admiring the way Murdoc’s lips curled around the foreign language.

“W-what are you gonna have?” 2D stuttered, hiding his flush behind a glass of water.

“The carnitas sounds good.” 2D shivered.

“Good, good.” They ordered when the waitress came back, or rather Murdoc ordered because 2D couldn’t pronounce the food names despite hearing Murdoc say them before.

“So, did you find anythin’ cool?” 2D asked once they were alone again. Murdoc pulled his bags up from the floor and rifled through them for a bit before sighing.

“Not really, didn’t see any albums that weren’t shit or that we don’t already have. I uh, I did find these though. Thought you might like them.” He pulled out a smaller bag and handed it over to the singer, face just the slightest bit red. 2D peaked inside the bag warily--you could never tell what Murdoc might find--and smiled.

Inside were four keychains, each one moulded to look like a member of Gorillaz. They were all in the phase one style, little Noodle with her helmet, Russ with that yellow hat from the Clint Eastwood video, Murdoc with his base, and 2D signing into a little model microphone. He held them gently, turning each over in his hands.

“Stupid I know, I shouldn’t of--” 2D shushed him and pulled out his keys, clipping the 2D one to them.

“They’re adorable Muds! I’m gonna call this lil’ guy Tiny 2D!” He jangled the keys around excitedly. Murdoc still looked embarrassed but held his hand out for the other three keychains, clipping the Murdoc to his own keys.

“I guess this is Mini Murdoc then?” he asked, holding the keychain up to eye level. “I think they made me too short.”

“I think it looks jus’ right,” 2D ventured. Murdoc scowled and put the keys down as their food. Starving from all the walking around 2D dug in immediately. Murdoc poked at his with an uneasy look before 2D raised an eyebrow at him.

“Not what you wanted?” Murdoc looked up at him, then back at the food.

“No, carnitas is one of my favourites, but…” he loaded one of the soft taco shells with meat and toppings, “I haven’t really had much of an appetite recently.”

“I’ve noticed,” 2D garbled through a mouthful of chicken and peppers. He watched Murdoc take a bite and felt a little better. Not wanting this to go like the diner, where he’d upset Murdoc so much he didn’t eat anything, 2D decided to focus on his own meal until the other was done.

They finished and paid, wandering back out onto the street. “Other than the keychains we didn’t buy anything for Noodle, did we?” 2D asked as they walked.

“No, but we could stop and get her some flowers or somethin’. Isn’t that what people bring to hospitals?” Murdoc said, leading them back towards the car. “I think there was a florist near where we parked.”

2D linked their hands again and allowed the bassist to lead the way. “Gosh, I’m glad I brought you Muds, you’re a lot smarter about this stuff than I am.”

There wasn’t much of a crowd at the florist so they were able to walk in and check out the flowers right away. 2D pulled them from bouquets to arrangements, oohing and ahhing the entire time. He’d never had much of a green thumb--in fact, he managed to kill an air plant once--so he didn’t really know what to get. Murdoc looked board.

“Jeeze Murdoc, I didn’t know there were so many different types of flowers in the whole world!” he said happily.

“Just pick something already Faceache, it doesn’t matter what,” Murdoc said, pointing to some potted plants. “Those look fine and they won’t die in a couple of days.”

“Good idea, let’s get one of those then,” Stu agreed picking up a little pot filled with white and pink clusters of flowers. Didn’t different flowers have different meanings? He wondered what those ones meant.

Murdoc was getting fidgety, so they checked out quickly and headed back to the car. 2D cradled the little potted plant in his hands the whole way, protecting it from the cold and wind. They each hopped into their seats hastily, the setting sun bringing colder temperatures.

“Bloody hell it’s freezin’, it wasn’t this fuckin’ cold the other day!” Murdoc groused as he navigated the Sunday afternoon traffic. The heating in the car was slow to warm up and 2D fretted over the plant.

“Can’t you drive faster? The florist said if the flowers get too cold they’ll die,” he wailed, hugging the pot to his chest.

“They’re goin’ to die if you crush them to death D,” Murdoc said, eyeing the poor plant. “I’m drivin’ as fast as I can.” 2D continued to fuss over the plant until they pulled into the driveway, where he sprinted inside.

“Oi! You can’t leave me with all the bags you sod,” Murdoc shouted, but 2D ignored him and continued inside. He rushed through into the kitchen to give the flower a drink of water, hoping that would be enough to prevent it from dying. He paused a moment to pet the dainty flowers before the slamming of the front door startled him.

“Oh it’s fiiiiiine, jus’ leave ol’Murdoc with all the bags.” 2D could hear Murdoc complaining from the foyer. Guiltily he walked back to the front hall to help.

“Sorry Muds, I was jus’ so worried about the flowers,” Stu apologized as he took some of the bags Murdoc was holding.

“Whatever, Faceache,” Murdoc grumbled, but he didn’t sound too put-out.

2D shuffled his feet a little as he watched Murdoc stretch out the kinks in his arms and back from dragging the bags inside. He could see the muscle of Murdoc’s back and shoulders twisting and bunching under his shirt and it made his face heat up just a bit.

“I-I had a good time today, Muds,” he said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

Murdoc turned to the singer and paused. 2D stared down at his shoes feeling oddly embarrassed. “Yeah, today wasn’t so awful.”

2D had been around Murdoc long enough to know what the bassist meant. The urge to hug the shorter man was strong, and 2D decided to take his chances and step into Murdoc’s space, arms open. He half expected Murdoc to push him away, but was pleasantly surprised when the other man allowed him to wrap him up in a hug. Murdoc smelled like shampoo and cigarettes and sweat. 2D nuzzled into his hair slightly, tightening his hold and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Murdoc’s arms wrap around his middle loosely, returning the hug. They haven't hugged like this in well, ever. He could feel the bassist sigh against his collar as 2D began to sway them side to side gently, their hug morphing into something closer to an embrace.

Feeling bold, 2D decided to try something he’d been thinking about for a while. Slowly removing one of his hands from Murdoc’s back he brought it up to his hair and gently ran his fingers through. The reaction was immediate. Murdoc sagged with a sigh, tightening his arms around Stu’s waist. 2D’s confidence surged and he continued to pet and ruffle the bassist hair as much as he wanted. It was softer than he expected--Murdoc wasn’t a stickler for good hygiene normally--and 2D wondered at the feeling between his fingers.

“Mmmmm,” Murdoc moaned. 2D continued to rub at that particular spot and he could feel the other man relaxing in his hold. He could feel the potential for sex vibrating between them, Murdoc was probably in the right headspace to agree to almost anything 2D wanted. But he didn’t really want to, for the moment he was enjoying making the other man feel good. Making Murdoc feel good made 2D feel good, so why not indulge a little?

Eventually, they separated when 2D realized they’d been standing in the foyer for a significant amount of time. He smiled down at Murdoc, who was still standing quite close.

“Thanks for the hug, Muds,” he said and the older man smiled.

“Don’t mention it, you can pay me back by hauling all those bags upstairs,” Murdoc said, winking. 2D groaned but didn’t make too much of a fuss.

“I guess it’s only fair,” he admitted, leaning down to grab a couple bags. Unlike Murdoc he wasn’t stupid enough to try and carry all of them at once. Murdoc nodded and left the front hall, probably to go get a drink, and 2D got to work on moving all the bags. Even after when he was done, tired, sweaty, and a little sore, he still thought today had been a really good day.

#tw suicide #tw violence #tw car accident #tw DRUGS AND ALCOHOL #tw hospital #takemetochurchfic #niccalpot

[walkerismychoice]

Queen of My Heart Chapter 23, Part 1

The Royal Romance Reality Show AU

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia

Rating: PG/PG-13

Authors Note: I wish I could say I came up with something better and more substantial after a whole week, but this is not my best work. This is mostly a filler chapter, but I felt if I didn’t put this out now, I might never finish this series. It should hopefully get better next chapter. 

Tag List: @choices-fanatic, @simplyaiden-blog, @butindeed, @bobasheebaby, @queencatherynerhys, @theroyalweisme, @boneandfur, @drakelover78 @notoriouscs, @mfackenthal, @blackcatkita, @devineinterventions2, @choiceswreckedme, @drakewalkerfantasy, @andy-loves-corgis, @traeumerinwitzhelden, @confessionsofabrokegirl, @diamond-dreamland, @sir-wigglesworth, @drakesfiance, @viktoriapetit, @umccall71, @jamielea81, @limenagirl, @hamulau, @withice, @speedyoperarascalparty, @tmarie82. @krisnicjack, @enmchoices, @jlouise88

Word Count: 1302

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

Riley read over the letter again the next morning:

Your relationship with Drake is not as secret as you think. If you quit the show now, you can save your reputation. If you stay, there’s no telling who will get hurt. You have until the next Apple Blossom Ceremony to make your decision. Choose wisely.

It was typed on plain white paper, nothing distinctive about it. She'd hoped the morning would bring her clarity and went over the list of possible culprits again. Hana knew but she had no reason to want Riley gone, and Riley trusted her completely. It was possible the whole production staff knew, but what would they get out of having her leave? She wasn't naive about their reasons for wanting her to stay, nor did she think they wouldn't capitalize on the chance to air her dirty laundry if she left. She really didn't want to believe it could be Olivia. Did Olivia think Riley was lying to her the other day? Olivia had seemed so genuine; it just didn't make sense for her to still think Riley was a threat although the timing was suspect.

The only thing that made sense was that someone else knew, but she couldn't figure out who it could be. Even though Madeleine basically ignored Riley's existence, it was no secret Madeleine wanted to be Queen more than anything. Even if she wanted to get rid of Riley, how would she be able to prove anything about Riley and Drake's relationship unless she had inside help? Riley wasn't counting her out, but she had to put this aside, at least for the day. She had the Regatta to attend and she didn't intend to back out just yet.

Maxwell and Bertrand wanted to ensure Riley had proper attire, so they sent her a nautical themed outfit. She put on the navy blue and white stripped 3/4 sleeve shirt and matching navy shorts. There was a white rope belt that looked exactly like the ropes on the Beaumont's boat, and she couldn't help but flash back to her "lesson" the day before. She was too busy focusing on other things to remember all the knots, but she remembered figure eight was one. She googled it to make sure she tied it correctly, hoping that a certain someone might notice.

Drake arrived to escort Riley to the limos. They were still being cautious around cameras, so Drake hardly glanced her way. Riley wasn't sure if it mattered anymore with the latest development, but it was probably still best to keep things under wraps.

Upon arrival, the women were briefed on the rules of the regatta and then Constantine took to the podium to address the crowd. It started off as a typical welcome address, but then he stated he was making an announcement:

“As of the end of this social season, I’ll be stepping down as your reigning monarch, and in a few week’s time, Prince Liam will be your new king.” 

The reporters started hurling questions at Constantine, but he silenced them, stating he would be releasing a statement at a later date. Meanwhile, Liam was standing next to Riley with a stunned expression on his face.

“Liam, is this the first you are hearing about this?” Riley asked.

“I knew his retirement wasn’t too far in the future, but I had no idea it would be this soon. He didn’t warn me he would be making the announcement...I’m going to become King in a matter of weeks. I’m still in shock. It’s a lot to take in.”

“I can’t even imagine.” Riley gave Liam a hug to comfort him. She felt guilty, but she was even more relieved now to not be marrying Liam. She had never been excited about being the eventual Queen of Cordonia, but it had seemed so far away. The thought of having to do so in a matter of weeks or even months nearly gave her a panic attack.

"I just can't believe he didn't tell me and and that I had to hear it at the same time as everybody else. I’m not sure what his motive was there."

"Are you going to be okay, Liam?"

"As soon as Leo abdicated I knew what my future held. I’m not necessarily ready, but I am prepared, if that makes sense.” Liam replied. “But it looks like everyone is headed to their boats for the Regatta. I’ll see you at the after party. Good luck, Riley.”

“Thanks, Liam.” Riley boarded the boat and Bertrand, Maxwell, and Drake were already aboard. 

“It’s good to see you again, Riley” Betrand extended his hand to her.

“Why so formal Bertrand? How many times do I have to tell you, siblings don’t shake hands, we hug.” Riley squeezed him tight and he gave in and hugged her back.

“Very well. I’ll remember that next time.”

“Take notes from me.” Maxwell wrapped Riley in one of his signature bear hugs. “Drake told me you took some lessons from an instructor yesterday, which is good because we couldn’t afford to hire a crew.”

“Maxwell!” Bertrand scolded.

“What? It is nothing everyone on this boat doesn’t already know.”

“The film crew will be here any minute.” Bertrand reminded Maxwell. “Now Maxwell, Riley, and Drake, why don’t you get the sails ready, and I will oversee everything.”

“Of course you will.” Drake muttered under his breath. “Riley, why don’t you come help me over here.” Riley followed and Drake leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Nice belt, Bennett. I see you learned something from your lesson.”

Despite hoping Drake would notice, Riley knew she was blushing when felt warmth rush to her cheeks. “I definitely learned something...but I had to Google how to tie this knot. I was too distracted staring at the hot instructor.”

“I guess he’ll need to give you further detailed instruction...but not now because we have company.” Drake’s tone went from flirty to more serious. Riley looked and saw the film crew boarding the yacht.

“Got it. We are all business. Let’s win this regatta!”

~~~~~ 

The Beaumonts didn’t win the Regatta, but they placed a respectable second behind Madeline and her crew. Riley was okay with not winning for herself, but the winner got to spend time alone on their boat with Liam. Nobody but Madeleine wanted Madeleine to get time alone with Liam. At least then she could stop complaining that she hadn’t gotten any one on one time with him. 

Everyone else gathered on the beach for the after party. Drake and Riley got in the buffet line together. The upside of public events like this was that Drake had a valid excuse to be at Riley’s side at all times.

“This food seems a little more casual than what I’ve gotten used to here.”

“Are you getting spoiled Bennett?”

“No,” Riley answered. “It’s actually a nice change of pace. Typical barbecue food like I would have at home.”

“That’s what I was thinking when I suggested it to Liam.”

“Did you do that for me, Drake? That’s sweet.”

“Nah, I just wanted something that would actually fill me up,” Drake teased. “Okay, maybe I thought it might remind you of home too. Enjoy your dinner with the ladies. I’ll be at the guards” table.”

Everyone ate and as dinner was finishing Kat approached Riley. “Riley, I need to steal you for a few minutes for an interview.”

Kat led Riley to the private “in the moment” interview area. It was typical to get interviewed during the middle of dates, so Riley didn’t think anything of it until Kat kicked the cameras out.

“What’s going on?” Riley questioned.

“We need to talk...about the letter you got.”

“How did you know about the letter, Kat?

“Because I wrote it.”  

#the royal romance #drake x mc #liam x olivia #my fic

[waywardimpalawriter]

Man out of time (Marcus Moreno x Female Reader)

Man out of time

Pairing:  Marcus Moreno x Female Reader

Characters: Marcus Moreno, Missy Moreno, Anita Moreno, mentions of Miracle Guy,  

Setting: few months after the end of We can be heroes 

Rating: PG-13 for now

Warnings: few curse words, angst mostly,

 Word count: 1,610

Summary: Simple, two syllable word Dictionary.com say’s it means easy to understand, deal with, use, etc. Marcus Moreno curses its existence, wishing his katana’s could cut through with a neat slice and bring back what he’s lost.   

Notes: Written for Writer Wednesday held by the marvelous @autumnleaves1991-blog​. I’ll admit I battled with this one for a good while and with the help of @icanbeyourjedi​ decided this would be my first Marcus Moreno fic. I do hope you all enjoy and as always much love to all my doves. 

“You promised remember?” Stubborn set to her small statue, arms across with a deep glare in those normally sweet brown eyes. “What happened to that promise dad?”

Looking to his mom for help but coming up empty as she just lifts her hands and shrugs with a small roll of her eyes before turning away to head back towards the kitchen. “Thanks mom,” slight sarcastic twist to the tone. Hand resting on popped out hip studying his daughter while searching for the right words to explain. “True it’s no emergency like two months ago Missy but the mission is simple enough I’ll be back home before the weekend.”

“Take me with you then,” brow lifting in challenge remind Marcus so much of her mother the memory picking his heart.

Pushing those thoughts aside, “I can’t you have school and training,” seeing her fixing to protest he holds up a hand to stall the flow of words. “Besides it’s too dangerous, this isn’t a typical mission the Heroics would go on.”

“So they push it on you, why?” Voice rising slightly with worry and a dash of fear for her father’s safety.

Running a hand through his hair tugging the dark strands lightly in frustration. “Things are…” always searching for the right words to explain, without giving too much away and keeping Missy in the dark to protect her. “Complicated Missy I have to lead by example you know that sweetheart. Please trust me when I say this isn’t something I want to do.”

“Then why…”

Sighing Marcus steps towards his daughter crouching down so their eye level, “Because I’m the only one qualified to take the mission.” Resting a fingerless gloved hand on her slim shoulder, “Simple in and out, take out the bad guy done,” offering her, his patented half smile. “Besides you’ve got your friends now and training you’ll never notice I’m gone.”

Expressive chocolate eyes roll but the smirk is all Moreno when they lock back with her father’s. Flinging herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and hugging the life’s breath from his lungs. “You’re wrong dad I’ll miss you,” trying to keep the trembling from her voice. Tears pricking the back of her eyes, nose rubbing along the leather jacket he’s wearing. “Four day’s right? No longer?”

“No longer just four days sweetheart,” pulling back to smile at his daughter catching the fear in her glassy eyes. “I promise to be safe.”

“And come home right?” She adds still clinging to her father’s shoulders. Memories of watching the alien’s wrap their mechanical arms around and pull him into the ship still very fresh in her mind. Never wanting a repeat performance of those horrible three hours.

Nodding, “Yes ma’am and I expect you to mind your abuela, do your homework and train.” Ticking off each one while giving her a smile.

“Always dad,” eyes rolling again as she lets him go, standing to his full height now. “When do you leave?”

Smiling slipping to a frown, “Once I’m packed. Intel came in this afternoon and I’ve been briefed.”

“Ah so that’s why your wear this ridiculous get up and rode in on that obnoxious two wheeled death machine,” putting her own words into the conversation, Anita Moreno rejoined her son and granddaughter leaning heavily on her cain. “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me Marcus Moreno you aren’t too old for me to whip,” banishing her walking stick towards him affectionately.

“Mom,” wanting too but doesn’t roll his eyes at her words, heart warmed by the undercurrent of worry he picks up despite her admonishment. Knowing much like Missy, she worried about his well being and the dangers lurking around each corner for the leader of the Heroics. “Neither of you need to worry, it’s a simple mission nothing I haven’t faced before.”

Boy had he been wrong about those last few words, cursing that two syllable word with every fiber in his being while trying to adjust to these strange surroundings. Floating car honking, racing pass Marcus standing stock still in the middles of what didn’t appear be to a street.

“Hey asshole move before you get flown over,” half hanging out the window with a middle finger salute aimed his way.

Itching to use his powers on the punk Marcus shakes his head stepping back and almost tripping over the cement curb.  Mesmerized by the sheer sights surrounding him. Blinking several times thinking he’s seeing things or at the very least Miracle Guy is playing some seriously messed up trick on him.

“Lost?” Soft feminine voice questions from behind him.

Turning slowly, weary of who’s standing at his back, “You could say that.”

“Marcus Moreno?” Gasp issues from her parted lips eyes shocked wide almost like seeing a ghost. “But… but your…”

Frowning unsure of this woman with how she’s acting at seeing him. “I’m what?”

“Dead…” her words echo around him like a thick fog.

Head shaking, reaching into his jeans pocket to pull the cell phone out cursing upon finding it’s out of juice. “The rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated.” Trying to make light even as a stone starts to sink in his stomach. “Miracle Guy put you up to this? Has to be some kind of simulation testing me right?”

“No… no it’s,” bitting her lip, she takes a step forward pulling a thin clear plastic looking object from her pocket. “What year is it?”

“Why?” Looking between her face and the light up piece of tech in her hand, Marcus takes a step back. Only to be honked at by another flying car. “Tech guys stepped up their game this time around.”

“Because,” swallowing harshly, “your not in Kansas anymore Toto.” Trying and failing to give a half smile. Only to have it fall with he scowl Marcus sends her. “Answer the question first then I’ll explain.”

Sighing, running a shaky hand through his hair, dread filling his veins, “2021, March if I remember.”

“I”m sorry Dorothy but you’re wrong,” glancing down eyes focused on the thin piece of plastic in her grasp. Pulling up the calendar to show him the date. “It’s March 14, 2041 and you good sir have come back from the dead.”

Gapping like a fish out of water, Marcus can’t seem to string two words together till a bubble of laughter leaves his chest. Morphing into chuckles and finally a great big belly laugh which has him doubling over holding his stomach and slapping his knee. “It’s a joke right? Miracle Guy, Tech-No he’d be able to pull something like this off.”

Glancing up at her, seeing the weariness even a touch of fear painted in those deep eyes. Turning her phone back around to pull up the news report. Male voice echoing around the two of them only slightly drowned out by the busy city still churning.

“The search has been called off for Heroic’s leader Marcus Moreno as it entered the third week with no sign. Our hearts go out to the Moreno family hit by this tragedy. Leaving so many to wonder what exactly happened and how did his last mission go so wrong.”

Shaking his head, eyes blinking several times to clear the imagines of Missy and Anita crying in each others arms. Surrounded by the children of the Heroics and the hero’s themselves, each taking the news differently. Vision filled with Missy’s red rimmed, tear streaked face breaking his heart, legs giving out from under him and crumbing to his knees.

“I don’t… I just left… it’s been two hours,” words stuttering from his mouth trying to grasp exactly what happened.

Debating with herself whether to step forward for comfort or turn to leave. The former winning as she drops beside him, returning the phone to its pocket and carefully gathering this broken semi stranger into her arms. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t the intension we had. There’s,” swallowing hard when she feels him stiffen beside her. “A plan, we had a plan but it’s changed and now you’re stuck.”

Wide with anger and shock, Marcus’s deep chocolate eyes raise to look at her. “You did this?”

Gulping for air and words, “Not me solely no, I apologize truly this wasn’t… I mean,” fidgeting under the intense stare, bottom lip caught by her tongue and drug between pearly whites. “I’m sorry Marcus so sorry,” short sob leaving a dry throat.

“Sorry for what? For taking me away from my life, from my time period or from the little girl who needs her father? Because as I see it right now this is all manner of fucked up and your gonna do something about it. Fix this shit so I can get back to my daughter.” Seething with rage Marcus stands to his full impressive height. Reaching behind to pull both katana’s from there sheathes.

Staying on her knees head bowed, “I can’t that’s the trouble Marcus.” Looking up into his pain streaked furious chocolate eyes, flinching at the sneer that contorts his beloved features. “I’m mysorry darling truly,” words whispered and barely meeting his ears as she vanishes into the thin air.

Speechless, arms hanging at his sides, stuck by the realization of her words, the video, combine with the knowledge he’s lost twenty some years with Missy watching her grow-up. Emotions swirl like a thick fog in his mind consuming thoughts and making reactions none existence to the world around him. A world that’s left him behind, while he’s stuck in the past and facing an uncertain future as a man out of time.

#Writer Wednesday #Marcus Moreno x Female Reader #Marcus Moreno x F!Reader #Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader #We can be heroes fic

[ask-iggylutz]

Final Mun Post and Promo blog stuff~

Hey, everyone! Looks like this is it, huh? Can’t believe that “The Prankster and the Prodigy” blog made it this far in its three-year run! But it honestly wouldn’t have gotten this far without all of you, my followers! Thank you all once again for the support you’ve shown.

Upon the posting of the 3rd year anniversary drawing, I noticed a few comments that I’d like to address right here, so we’re all on the same page: 

1) Is the blog closing for good?

Answer: “The Prankster and the Prodigy” is closing as an ask blog. The inbox is closed and I no longer accept IC asks. This was a decision that I made a few months back. However, the blog will continue to be somewhat active with whatever Iggy/Ludwig content I find on Tumblr or post myself.

2) Will this blog be deleted?

Answer: Definite NO! I’ve put an insane amount of thought and work into it to let it all go poof forever! All the content will remain up for everyone to look back on, and it’ll be a good read for the new people who recently came on board, too.

So what happens now?

Those who know me and/or my works may already know this, but I do run a few other Mario-related blogs. I currently have two active ones that perhaps may be of interest to you guys: 

@ask-thecoolestofcool - Those of the Paper Mario fandom may remember these obscure character bosses, The Koopa Bros., from the first Paper Mario game. This is currently my most active blog which I dedicate most of my time to.

@ask-thegrandeightkoopz - Set in an alternate universe from “The Prankster and the Prodigy.” The focus is on Junior and the Koopalings, the latter who are born as a mixed set of septuplets and are blood-related to Bowser and Junior (uncle and cousin respectively). Co-mun is @mrnerdling. Be warned: This blog is also rated PG-13 for cursing and other things that fall under that rating. Please proceed at your own risk.

@kooparings - Mun’s main blog. Mostly for drawing. 

I also hang out at Twitter under @EnnCarbohydrate, posting updates from my blogs every now and then. If you all have any questions at all that you’d like to ask me, feel free to send an ask to my main blog, or at curious cat~

Thank you all and have a wonderful day~<3

#ooc #iggylutz final post

[fictionkinfessionsarchived]

Anonymous said: May 14th 2018, 12:58:00 pm Hi! Im name (modern timeline) i was dating name2, and i was bigender. and name3 adopted me and name4. i really really miss name2 and wsnna find him!! Allso wanna find hanna h and name4 please!!! I miss yoy guys so much❤

Someone said off anon with their own url said: May 16th 2018, 8:15:00 pm · 3 hours u ever feel super self conscious about how many kins you have so even though you wanna submit asks here off anon so you can meet kin friends you kinda feel bad knowing it'll be a ton of different characters because that's a big mood #three emojis go here       

Please don't send in posts like this which are thinly veiled canon calls! We have an entire page full of call blogs and it's kinda shitty to ignore them while abusing the ask box on this blog! Like, people put in so much effort and time to make a specific safe place for people to find each other? You could, in the very least, give them a go! They have tagged posts specifically for things like age, or canons and stuff! Look at them! ----> http://fictionkinfessions.tumblr.com/seekin

Also people have been complaining about emoji signatures circumventing the ‘not a call blog’ rule and I am starting to consider banning them if this type of weaseling thing keeps up! Please, use a call blog! They are there just for you!

Anonymous said: May 14th 2018, 9:55:00 am heyo it’s uh. name 3 emojis. i sent in a joke confession abt ... ? it seems like my asks aren’t going through so it might not have but if it did please delete it!! thank u! - name 3 emojis

:V Uh, I kinda sorta pre emptively deleted it because hey, let's keep this mostly pg around here, please? OR at least pg-13? Below R rated, basically!

Anonymous said: May 16th 2018, 12:09:00 am this is late, but Im feeling emotional. To .... I hope I find you again soon. -name

I'm sorry but you had an entire weekend and two additional days to send something in! I can't post this because I said there was a time limit and otherwise we'll continue to post about the holiday for several more day! Considering people have issues with that particular holiday, I think the bare minimum of two extra days to post everything for that holiday should be enough to consider everyone's feelings! If that makes sense?

Anonymous said: May 15th 2018, 4:56:00 pm for the recent [name1] kin: @ me next time instead of vaguing on here - [name2]

Counter suggestion? They're allowed to confess on confession blogs! I imagine they may have done this to avoid hurting your feelings? Though I don’t know the context so I can only conjecture!

Anonymous said: May 15th 2018, 3:23:00 pm (NSFW. VERY NSFW) just LOOKING at ... and i HATE it. -name, source

NO NSFW KINFESSIONS!! NO! It's on the Submission Guidelines page!

Anonymous said: May 15th 2018, 6:33:00 am Please delete the ask that says 'dra ... ards'.

Ok!

Anonymous said: May 15th 2018, 7:29:00 am · 14 hours ago would it make sense to be kin with AU versions of yourself that you've created? like a mini-kin, just an extension of your proper kintype. Anonymous said: question of the day: is .. to like? kin... own words??? like ... or whatever?? hh. (#)

Sorry, not a help blog! Try one or more of these blogs? http://fictionkinfessions.tumblr.com/help Or ask @otherkindfaq if you'd like to discuss something like that?

Anonymous said: Hey, I sent in an ask about trans guy name and thing, and I wanted to make sure it was on anon?? Sorry if this is annoying, I just get a lil bit paranoid and I don't distinctively remember turning it to anonymous, so,,

Tada, you were totally on anon! You're fine!

Anonymous said: hey mod party cat sorry to bother you but could you delete the confession abt being canonically number years old and tagged w # ? thank you!

Deleted it! It's lost to the ages now!

Anonymous said: As a ... I kinda wanna start a kin discord group for other ... kin because those people are so rare.... Anonymous said: i kind of want to make a [source] kin server or whatever, BUT, i would have to ...  you’ll ever meet - name single food emoji

Number five on this page please! http://fictionkinfessions.tumblr.com/promo

#not confessions #mod response #long posts #mod party cat!

[taeminuet]

Asphodel (13/?)

Title: Asphodel Fandom: SHINee (ft. EXO and f(x) members) Pairings: JongTae, OnKai Chapter Wordcount: ~2k Chapter Rating: PG-13

Previous Chapters

Collab with @eorumverba; the next chapter can be found on their blog next Friday~

Edit: I am truly so sorry that this is so late in the day. I scheduled this last night for “tomorrow at 2pm” without checking the time. Apparently it was after midnight and it kicked the post to Saturday. I truly apologize;;

Jonghyun is honestly extremely glad that Luna doesn’t hate them.They’re not entirely sure what response they expected from a mom catching them curled up under a blanket with her son, clearly about to kiss him, but they hadn’t entirely been sure it would be this. But Luna is smiling, voice mostly teasing, and Jonghyun smiles back in response.

“Yes, ma’am,” they say, because they at least know how to be polite, and it makes Luna smile more. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Taemin looks embarrassed, but Jonghyun is glad. At least Taemin is calmer now, and embarrassed is a big improvement over panicking. “Mom,” he says, all but burying his face in Jonghyun’s shoulder to hide. Not that Jonghyun minds.

Luna only laughs at him though, not mocking, but in that gentle maternal way. “Are you staying for dinner then, Jonghyun?” she asks.

“Uhm,” Jonghyun starts, and looks to Taemin for an answer. If Taemin wants them there, they’ll stay. If not, well, that’s more Taemin’s decision than theirs.

But Taemin only nods quickly against their shoulder, whispers out a muffled sentence that Jonghyun is pretty sure is, “please stay.”

Jonghyun can’t refuse that. “If it’s alright with you, ma’am.”

“Of course,” Luna says. “I wouldn’t have invited you if it wasn’t. I think Jongin is staying too. Staying the night, actually. His parents have something to do and your dad figured you’d enjoy the company, Taemin.”

“Oh,” Taemin says, and then mumbles, “Yeah, sure, fine.”

It’s evidently not the reaction Luna was hoping for. She pauses for a moment, considering, and then adds, almost like an offering to Taemin, “You’re welcome to stay too, Jonghyun. If it’s alright with your parents.”

Taemin perks up a little, but Jonghyun freezes. It’s been awhile since something like this came up, and they’re actually put off kilter for a moment. “I can call them and ask,” they lie. They’re pretty sure that even if they could call their mom, it would mostly just seem like some kind of super messed-up prank. “But I’m sure it’s fine. I’d like to.”

“Good,” Luna says, with some sense of finality. “Go ahead and call so they don’t worry, alright. Taemin, sweetheart, can you come help me in the kitchen?”

“I…” Taemin starts, clearly reluctant, but Luna’s soft smile gives no room for argument, and he nods. He peels himself away from Jonghyun’s side and follows his mother. And Jonghyun, with nothing really to do, ducks into the side hall to pretend to call their parents.

In the kitchen, he hears Luna talking to Taemin, voice kept soft, and while they can’t see her expressions or actions, her voice is soft as she murmurs, “Taemin, you know you can come to me or your father with anything.”

“I know, mom,” Taemin says, but his voice is doubtful at best. Jonghyun doesn’t know how Luna replies, but it’s either nonverbal or too quiet to hear, and a moment later, Taemin says, “I’m… it’s okay, mom. Really.”

Jonghyun feels bad listening in now. They feel even worse with the knowledge that Taemin is lying, that he definitely wasn’t okay this afternoon. Wasn’t okay yesterday when he’d come home hurt and nobody had even noticed.

But it’s… it’s really not their place. They can be there for Taemin, but that’s about all they can do right now. So they step away, far enough not to be eavesdropping on the conversation, and wait just long enough not to be suspicious before knocking on the doorframe of the kitchen and pushing inside.

Taemin is leaning up against the counter where they kissed only yesterday, and when Jonghyun enters the room, he looks up and meets Jonghyun’s eyes for a moment before ducking his head shyly, lifting a hand in a motion somewhere between hiding a smile and touching his own lips.

Jonghyun wants to kiss him again, but Luna is right there, and they’re pretty sure it wouldn’t exactly be appropriate, so instead they just move in to be next to him, squeezing Taemin’s hand gently in their own. “I can stay.”

“Wonderful,” Luna says. “Would you two like to help cook then?”

Which is how Jonghyun ends up standing at the counter, helping to chop vegetables (apparently one of the only jobs that Taemin is allowed in the kitchen after a few incidents) while Taemin not-so-subtly steals pieces of food before they’re done. It’s strangely nice in a domestic sort of way. More so than Jonghyun ever remembers his own home feeling.

And then Jinki appears in the kitchen with Jongin trailing after him like a particularly affectionate puppy, and Jonghyun all but feels his heart sink.

It probably doesn’t mean anything to anyone else, but he remembers Kibum and Gwiboon’s commentary, remembers the laugh in Gwiboon’s voice as she commented on Jinki and Jongin’s relationship. And there’s a faint bruised patch on Jongin’s skin, just inside the collar of his shirt like it’s meant to be hidden, the kind of bruise that Jonghyun knows is left by someone’s mouth.

Luna turns around to smile at them both, flicking off the burner. “Good timing,” she says, too sweetly. “How did the lesson go?”

“Very good,” Jinki says, and very pointedly doesn’t reach out for Jongin he way he so easily has the last few times Jonghyun has seen them. It would be normal except for the break in character, the way Jongin pulls tight to himself even as he flushes under Jinki’s praise of, “Jongin’s wonderful. He learns so fast.”

“That’s wonderful, Jongin,” Luna says, and it’s not hard to see that her words don’t have anywhere near the same effect, though he nods politely, murmuring thanks.

“And who is this?” Jinki asks, looking at Jonghyun.

“Jonghyun,” Jonghyun answers, and forgets for a long minute to even try to apply the same politeness that they automatically had for Luna. “Sir.”

“Oh,” Jinki says, and smiles so brightly that Jonghyun is actually a little taken aback. “It’s nice to meet you. Taemin’s told me good things. You live nearby?”

“Yeah. Pretty close,” Jonghyun says, shifting a little nervously.

Jongin narrows his eyes a little, cocking his head in confusion. “I don’t--” he starts, looking intently at Jonghyun.

“Jonghyun’s staying for dinner, darling,” Luna says absently, accidentally cutting him off. “Would you mind setting the table for five?”

Jonghyun relaxes. They really, really don’t need to deal with that line of questioning right now.

“Of course, dear,” Jinki says, and his eyes flicker to Jongin for a moment, “Jongin, would you like to help?”

And Jongin still looks a little suspicious, but he also hangs off of Jinki’s every word, and after a moment he turns to Jinki, chirpy and eager to please. “Yes, sir.”

He follows Jinki out of the room, and Jonghyun waits for another moment before turning back. Taemin is watching Jongin and Jinki go, some sort of sadness in his face, and Jonghyun doesn’t know what it is, but they take a moment to pull him aside when Luna begins to follow with food.

“Tae?” they ask. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Taemin says, and it’s got a hint of bitter amusement. But it clears up after a moment, and he steps closer to Jonghyun. “Nothing. Really nothing. You’re here. It’s okay.”

Jonghyun pauses, just for a second, and then pulls Taemin in, leaning up onto their toes so that they’re almost tall enough to properly envelop Taemin in a hug. “Yeah,” they say. “I’m here.”

Taemin slumps a little in their arms, seeming to fold himself in until he’s smaller, more secure. “Thank you,” he says, quietly.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Taemin hums noncommittally. After a minute, he pulls back and gestures halfheartedly towards the dining room. “We should go eat.”

He doesn’t sound terribly excited about the prospect. But he takes Jonghyun hand and pulls them with him into the other room where his parents and Jongin are already sitting, Luna at the end of the table with Jinki and Jongin on one side of it and spaces for Taemin and Jonghyun on the other. Taemin slips into the seat next to his mother, and Jonghyun follows suit, taking the seat next to him.

“Jonghyun,” Luna says, almost the moment they sit down, waiting only long enough for them to start eating. “We’ve heard a lot about you from Taemin. You don’t go to school with him and Jongin, do you?”

“Ah, no. I, uh… I’m out of high school,” they say, smiling awkwardly. Had been for a few years actually. With no actual diploma to speak of. Not that it mattered. Hard to get a job when they were officially dead. And eternally bound to their old bedroom.

“I don’t remember seeing you around school,” Jongin says suddenly, half startling Jonghyun.

“It’s not a small school,” Jonghyun says. “And I kept to myself, mostly.”

Jongin gives him a look, but it’s hardly a second before he drops his eyes and starts picking at his food. Next to him, Jinki smiles genially. “What do you do now then, Jonghyun?” he asks, eating with one hand, the other is beneath the table somewhere, and Jonghyun feels a lurch of unplaceable discomfort in their stomach. “Are you going to college? Working?”

“I’m taking some time,” they say, smiling weakly. So much for half truths. “Figuring out what I want to do for the rest of my… life.”

“And have you figured anything out?” Luna says, and she makes it sound curious, not accusatory. She’s not blaming him for not having his life figured out. Jonghyun would take that to heart if they were still actually alive.

Jonghyun shrugs. “I like music,” they say, as much of a non-answer as possible, and also one that seems like it’ll suit this family perfectly. It’s not a lie, either. They’d played a lot of guitar before. They kind of stopped a little after their death but before their mom managed to sell the house. The sounds of it used to make her cry.

“Oh, you said you write lyrics,” Taemin says suddenly, as if remembering a conversation, and then he pauses, a bite of food halfway to his mouth and looks curiously between Jonghyun and Luna, brow furrowing.

“That’s impressive,” Jinki says, and smiles disarmingly. Or it would be disarming if Jongin didn’t look quite so much like a puppy whose owner was giving attention to someone else. God. If Gwiboon is right, these two aren’t subtle at all. “I’d like to hear sometime. If you’re willing to show. I have a bit of an ear for music.”

“Maybe sometime, yeah,” Jonghyun said, glancing at Taemin. He’s stopped eating, frowning at his plate as if lost in thought, and Jonghyun reaches out, touching his forearm gently, almost casually. Taemin doesn’t pull away, but he does startle, looking at Jonghyun for a moment with something questioning and concerned in his eyes.

“Can we be excused, mom?” Taemin asks the moment everyone is done eating.

Luna looks worried for a moment, but Jinki only nods. After a minute, Jongin shifts restlessly. “I--” he says, and clears his throat as if he doesn’t quite trust his voice. “I think I’m done too. Thank you for dinner.”

“Would you like to help me clear up then, Jongin?” Jinki asks, and Jongin nods, standing to follow, his body angled slightly away from them as he help gather plates and follows Jinki towards the kitchen.

Taemin catches Jonghyun by the arm and tugs gently, leaving only enough time for Jonghyun to say, “Thank you so much, ma’am,” before they’re pulled away.

#SHINee fic #SHINee fanfiction #Jongtae #Onkai #asphodel #my writing #the awkward dinner scene lmao #edit: i am truly So. Sorry.

[sunlightdances]

Blooming in the Shadows (3/6)

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader Rating: Overall PG-13 because of canon-typical violence. Also swearing. Warnings: Angst! Dean and the Reader swearing like sailors! Mutual pining with a dash of bed sharing and a slow burn romance added in for extra fluffy goodness. Summary: You and Dean Winchester are barely friends. His sudden reappearance from Hell brings you together, and you find yourself right back in the life you ran away from when you were a teenager. (Canon AU that takes place during season 4, specifically starting at 4.01 - for reference, Dean is 29) This chapter: Dean and the reader finally find Sam. Some hurt feelings are voiced. There’s an argument. Again. (This chapter is mostly filler, sorry about that)

Masterlist for this fic is on my blog!

The morning is… weird. Dean is ignoring you, like usual. It feels extra tense, though. You try to write it off as just Dean focusing on finding Sam, and figuring out whatever is trying to chase him down.

You feel awkward only because of the way you’d broken down the night before. You can’t remember the last time you were that terrified of something you were hunting. It felt so powerful, so out of your league, you couldn’t help the scream for Dean that erupted from your throat when you were cornered.

In the back of your mind you’re relieved knowing that he came for you without hesitation -- you know he’d never let you get hurt, or worse. Still. You had to wonder, sometimes.

“Let’s go,” Dean says quietly, holding the door open for you. Sometime this morning, Dean had gone back to your room and cleaned up the best he could, grabbing your bag from the room and loading everything into the car.

You follow him out to the parking lot and see other patrons out and about - no one seems at all concerned about what happened the night before. How did they not hear it? See it? How didn’t they hear you?

You shake it off, your attention once again on Dean, who is absentmindedly rubbing at the mark on his arm. You slide into the passenger seat, and almost feel relieved when he immediately turns the radio up when he gets in.

A distraction. That’s what you need.

The miles fly by.

You find yourself relaxing into the seat, the early morning sunshine warming your face through the glass. Your fingers tap out a rhythm on your kneecap, and you’re startled when you feel a hand settle over yours.

“Makin’ me nervous.” Dean says, not taking his eyes off the road. His fingers briefly close over yours, barely enough pressure for you to notice, and then his hand is gone.

You feel strangely bereft, afterwards.

“Sorry.”

He glances over at you for a second. “Are you… do you feel okay?”

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess so. Sorry for last night.”

“Something attacked you. You don’t have to apologize.”

“Still. I’ve never been the damsel in distress type.”

You lean against the seat back, head tilted towards him, and-- is that a smile? “Gotta admit,” he says, “I make a good knight in shining armor, though.”

“You wish,” you fire back, unable to let him have the last word.

He doesn’t say anything else, but that ghost of a smile remains on his face until the next time you stop for gas and snacks.

You head inside while Dean deals with the car, and your eyes dart around as you look around, still feeling wary. You’re picking over the snack aisle when you feel eyes on you, and someone standing behind you.

You reach into the inside pocket of your coat and grip the hilt of your knife before a familiar voice makes you relax. “Calm down,” he says. “It’s me.”

You curse softly under your breath. There was a time where you’d recognize Dean and Sam’s footsteps from paces away, but apparently that’s come and gone. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he reaches around you for a pack of oreos and trail mix. You raise your eyebrow, and he mirrors your expression. “What? I’ve got a sweet tooth.”

You laugh softly. Dean Winchester. Full of surprises. When you look back up at him to reply, he’s looking at you with an odd expression, but a blink and it’s gone. The morning has been too off kilter for your liking, so you don’t wait for him to say anything. You head up to the counter and refuse to let Dean pay, which has him grumbling all the way back out to the car.

The GPS on Sam’s phone is still turned on, and you know you’ll get to him within a day. It makes you nervous and excited all at the same time. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the youngest Winchester, but you’re also apprehensive about what you’ll find.

You hope he hasn’t made a deal.

You don’t want to see what Dean might do if it turns out he’s out of hell at the cost of his brother’s soul or life.

The distance between you and Sam shrinks, and suddenly you’re parked outside a hotel, both of you just sitting in the car as you stare up at the building.

“Ready for this?” You ask quietly.

He looks at you sharply. “It’s my brother. Why wouldn’t I be?”

The truce between you has apparently evaporated. “Just checking. We don’t know--”

“I know that he’s probably going to rush me once he sees us, so do me a favor and don’t let him kill me before we can get some answers, will you?”

“Dean, you know I want answers as much as you do--”

“Do you?” He asks, suddenly angry. “Or are you just here because Bobby asked you to tag along?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Fuck you, Dean. No one makes me do anything.” Believe it or not, I still actually care about you, you don’t say.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Dean says under his breath, getting out of the car before you can stop him or yell at him, or-- whatever. You follow him begrudgingly, knowing he’s right and that Sam might actually try to hurt him if he doesn’t realize it’s actually the real Dean here.

Although, if he pulled him out of hell… why wouldn’t he be at the grave site? Or at the very least, why wouldn’t he be expecting Dean to show up eventually? There are too many questions. Your head hurts.

At the hotel room, you watch as the brothers reunite. Well, you don’t just stand there - Sam goes after Dean much like you and Bobby had, and you find yourself stopping him, meeting Sam’s watering eyes, telling him that yes, this is Dean.

“Wait-- so you didn’t make a deal?” Dean asks.

“Why else would he be so surprised?” You grumble. Dean glares.

“I tried everything… no one would deal. Trust me, if I could have, I would have--” Sam says, interrupting Dean who tries to lecture him. “I would have! I know-- I know we promised. But I couldn’t leave you down there. It wasn’t up to me, though.”

“Well who the hell got him out, then?” You wonder aloud.

“I followed a pack of demons to this town,” Sam says. “I thought if Lilith was still around… I’d… I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. But I didn’t tell Bobby where. I didn’t want to get him involved.” Sam looks at you, “You didn’t--”

“No!” You glare at him. “Why does everyone think I had anything to do with this?” You say, frustration bubbling up. You regret it immediately when you see the look on Dean’s face.

Dean scoffs. “Yeah, why on earth would she risk anything to save my ass? Not likely.”

You feel like he’s slapped you.

“Is that what you think?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“Guys--” Sam tries to stop the impending fight, but you can feel it all coming to a head. All the tension of the last few days and the feelings that have built up over the years… you should have known it was always going to end like this.

“No, Sam, it’s fine. I’ll go.”

Dean’s pinching the bridge of his nose in that way he does when he’s frustrated. “Where are you gonna go--”

“You don’t have to pretend like you care, Dean!” You throw your arms up in defeat, “I’ll figure it out. I always have. Besides, it’s not like you need me here anymore anyway. You’ve got Sam. You’ve got your car. The way it was always supposed to be.”

Dean says your name, a quiet plea, but you’re too tired to stay and figure him out. In the back of your mind though a little voice is telling you to stay. Telling you that Dean’s in over his head here, especially if Sam wasn’t the one to get him out. If he didn’t do it, and Bobby didn’t do it… and there’s still the mystery of the burn mark on his arm.

You push out the doors of the apartment building, fuming, but something makes you stop walking, groaning in frustration. You’re going to stay, because like it or not, the Winchesters are just about the only family you’ve got left. It doesn’t mean you’re going to be nice about it, though.

As if reading your mind, Sam comes out the double doors after you, running a hand through his hair. “Hey,” he says, “Hang on.” He pulls you into a hug, the strength behind it surprising you. “I tried calling you…”

“I know.” You say after you pull away, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t-- What was I supposed to do? You didn’t sound like you wanted anyone around.”

“How are you here?” Sam asks.

“Found him.”

Sam’s eyebrows raise. There’s not usually this many coincidences when hunting, and he knows it.

“I know, I know,” you say, before he can voice his concerns, “It’s weird. This whole thing is weird. I don’t get it. But we actually agreed on something-- finding you.” You smile, giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Needed the brains in this operation, after all.”

Sam laughs. “That was always you, and you know it.”

“Yeah, whatever, Stanford.”

“If you two are done with this touching reunion,” Dean interrupts, shouldering his way between you and Sam. “We have to get back to Bobby.”

You roll your eyes. “You have to get back to Bobby. I’m going home.”

Dean stops and turns to look at you. Something flashes in his eyes, and he opens his mouth like he has something to say, but no words come out. You find yourself waiting, almost hoping that he’ll apologize, or… something.

“Whatever.” He turns on his heel and heads towards the Impala, touching the hood of it reverently.

Out of earshot, Sam turns to you. “Come with us. I know Dean’s… Dean. But if he’s out and none of us did it… we need all the help we can get.”

He’s practically echoing Bobby’s words from the day before, and you sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted. Sam looks how you feel. You wonder, not for the first time, what he’s been doing since Dean went.

“Fine. But-- you’re the middle man. Just be prepared.”

.

.

.

You’re sitting upright in the middle of the Impala’s backseat, elbows propped up on the seatback in front of you, struggling not to smile. The windows are down, the music is blaring, and you feel like you’re seventeen again, Dean at the wheel, and Sam at his place beside him.

After some ribbing about Sam douching up the car (he added an ipod jack, an atrocity) - Dean fell right into old habits. There was little conversation about leaving the car from Bobby at the hotel and hitting the road in the Impala. Of course that’s what you were going to do.

There was also surprisingly little conversation about you joining the boys. Sam basically said he’d managed to change your mind and that you were coming with, and Dean just stared, not saying a word, jaw clenched.

You called Bobby to update him, and he gave you and the boys an address - a psychic friend of his named Pamela, who might be able to figure out who got Dean out of the pit. It meant another night on the road, but you don’t think Dean hates the idea, not when he’s behind the wheel of Baby once again.

It means another night in a motel, though, and you hate the dread you feel curling in your stomach at the idea of sleeping alone when you’ve apparently got some supernatural creature on your tail.

You won’t mention it to Sam or Dean though, not wanting to seem weak. You don’t miss the look Dean sends you when you get your back out of the backseat and head into the motel office with them both.

“Hey--” Dean says, stopping you with a hand on your elbow, “I think you should stay in the room with us.”

His voice is gentle, and you swear you’re going to get whiplash by the time this is all over because of Dean’s mood swings.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Kid. Come on…”

You pull your arm from his grasp. “Jesus, Dean. You basically told me to fuck off earlier.”

He sends a placating look at the front desk clerk, and you send her a small apologetic smile. Dean pulls you closer to the door, lowering his voice. “If that thing comes back and comes for you--”

“You’ll feel guilty. I get it, Dean.”

“That’s not-- that’s not what I meant. Dammit, kid, I’m just--”

“Got a room,” Sam interrupts, looking between the two of you. “Dean said you were bunking with us…”

“Of course he did.” You grab the key from Sam’s hand and storm out the door, not waiting to see if they’re following you. These few days are truly going to kill you if whatever’s hunting you and Dean down doesn’t get to you first, you think.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #blooming in the shadows fic