#they said let’s give this little fucker thousands of people to talk to but none that want to

[chappelroans]

i am going to need someone to want and love and care about me before i start blowing shit up

#being alive is the loneliest thing in the world #they said let’s give this little fucker thousands of people to talk to but none that want to #truly i believe i was put on this earth to practice unreciprocated friendship and one sided love #and also to create moving pictures. that too. cannot forget the pictures #miles speaks #tbd

[grittyreadsfic]

hello my friends, one singular person asked for this weeks ago so i’m here with my most unhinged rec list yet: tk and nolan.

now, this one was hard to reign in, so i really didn’t. this pairing had maybe 230 fics in the tag when i first started reading hockey fic, and it’s now over 900, and i’ve read far too many of them, and that makes it so hard to parse it down. so i just...didn't!

so with that said, please enjoy so you want to get into tknp: a beginners guide to a classic case of idiots to lovers

i told myself that i couldn’t rec an author’s entire body of work but then i remembered this is my blog and i do what i want, so i did some consolidating. here’s a list of the quintessential authors for this pairing, you can start at any of their profiles and pick any of their fics at random, and it’ll be one of the best ones for the pairing, hands down.

therainbowsedge: i’d start with the summer camp fic, or the sex toys one, as both beautifully capture the true idiots to lovers nature of this pairing, but just top tier writing all around

manybumblebees: the wedding fic is so tender and port stanley is a classic, but literally pick any single fic and you’ll have a perfect tknp fic. i’m not kidding

jamesvanriemsdick: their tknp fics in their series are some of the hidden gems of this pairing (the tk heartbeat fic makes me LOSE it) but the delaware fic or the seattle fic…..there’s really something for every mood

catchascatchcan: start with era of gods because i could write literal essays on how it’s some of the best fantasy worldbuilding i’ve ever read, but then just read everything else on their account, including non tknp fics. you won’t regret it

hackysack: ao3 user hackysack has written one of two timeloop fics that i absolutely adore, and i thought about just calling that one out in particular, but all of their work deserves the attention

canary: nothing to prove was the first tknp fic i ever read and i was immediately hooked. all of their fics are a good starting place for the pairing, and just really give you a feeling for the pairing

and now, for the fic recs!

to be, despite it all by smudgedfreckles

summary: or, nolan patrick’s gender thesis, by travis konecny.

why i love it: there’s not a lot ofo nonbinary characters in media, even in fic, but this fic’s treatment of nolan and their path to figuring out their gender just feels so real and made me feel so seen. tk’s characterization is also just top notch, and it’s just a super sweet story about two people who love each other

last ones standing by makeit_takeit

summary: If you’re committed to finding your future spouse, reads the last line of the ad, and are ready to look at yourself and your love life in a whole new way, apply now.

At the bottom of the ad there’s a link, and Travis finds his finger hovering over the screen, lip still caught between his teeth.

“I mean,” he says very reasonably, speaking out loud to his empty apartment like some sort of possibly-crazy person, “just applying doesn’t mean anything. Maybe I just fill it out, and see what happens. It’s not like I’m really gonna get picked to be on TV, come on.”

He snorts out loud, just to show his apartment he hasn’t lost his grip on reality or anything; he fully understands how ludicrous that would be.

Then he clicks the link anyway, because yolo or whatever.

why i love it: what part of a married at first sight fic doesn’t make you want to immediately dive right in? the concept is fun, the execution is absolutely flawless, and it captures their dynamic so well while letting it develop naturally

motivation by connectknee

summary: Kevin knows when to back off, the article said. He knows just when to shut up and leave Patty alone, something Travis has never known how to do.

why i love it: the thing i love about this pairing is that tk is loud and in your face, and nolan’s more reserved, a little quieter, a little harder to read. this fic does a really great job of exploring how tk could feel like maybe he’s just a bit too much and is one of my favorites in terms of miscommunication

a tenderness grows by rusesdeguerre

summary: Nolan wouldn’t say that landing a job as the Philadelphia Flyers’ psychotic and probably clinically insane mascot was a childhood dream of his. Maybe tangentially: playing pond hockey in –30°C weather and pretending to be Sidney Crosby is practically a rite of passage when you grow up in Manitoba. That, and experiencing the distinct displeasure that is thousands of mosquitoes sucking your blood out when your father drags you on a father-son camping trip into the backwoods of the northern Canadian Prairies.

why i love it: this was the first fic i recced on this blog, and i stand by that decision. a fic where nolan is not only not a hockey player, but is in fact the person in the gritty suit? absolutely perfect, and so charming from start to finish

meet me at my window by springsteen

summary: Travis has lived in Philadelphia for a few years now, long enough to know there isn’t a major city in America where superheroes don’t destroy an entire city block trying to save humanity or whatever. He can deal with all the super-shit, but Travis did not sign up for getting woken up from a deep sleep because some fucker’s trying to break in through his window.

(5 times the super-villain known as "The Cat" breaks into Travis's apartment, plus 1 time Travis invites him in.)

why i love it: there’s a lot of things to love here, but the concept is just absolutely one of my all time favorite aus ever. it’s fun and charming and the perfect glimpse into a world where heroes and villains exist, and what it’s like just to be a run of the mill kind of guy existing in it. tk and nolan’s back and forth in this make it so engaging, and it’s such a top tier fic

body’s in trouble by cloudsandpassingevents

summary: “Oh, sorry,” someone says. “Didn’t know anyone else was here.”

Nolan freezes, then turns around very slowly. When he looks up, Nicklas fucking Backstrom is standing behind him in a hoodie and baggy sweats, holding the biggest bag of Swedish Fish Nolan’s ever seen in his life in one hand.

“Uh,” Nolan says around the pop tart between his teeth. “Yeah.”

What the fuck, his brain helpfully supplies.

why i love it: from nolan’s inner voice, to the way the author explores all the dynamics within the team, to the way they write the unexpected but actually, it kind of makes sense friendship between nolan and backstrom, is just absolutely fantastic. there’s a lot of moments that circle back and build on each other in a way that really just makes it super compelling

rhizomatic foundations by lighthousetowers

summary: Twenty days after he moves in with Kevin Hayes, twenty days – three months, five months, depending on how you look at it – after not talking to TK, TK shows up at the front door with a plant the size of a basketball in his hands.

TK grins. "Patty, meet Reginald." He lifts up the plant. "Reggie, meet Patty. He's going to be your new - caretaker."

"What the fuck," says Nolan, not moving a single muscle.

Or: That Nolan can hear the plant talk might as well just happen.

why i love it: this is probably my favorite magical realism fic just about ever. it’s fun and charming and a little weird, but in the best possible way. there’s such a wonderful narrative in it, and lighthousetowers always has such beautiful writing, and it really shines in this one. the dialogue and nolan’s characterization are also part of what set it apart for me as one of the best tknp fics

in the dark of any town by mengetpegged

summary: If the voice has an accent at all, it’s a flat prairie Canadian, with none of G’s French-Canadian softness at the edges. But mostly, the accent is just ‘pissed off,’ which TK believes is a default setting for ghosts.

“Who are you?” TK asks, and he doesn’t like how strained his voice sounds, doesn’t like the tinge of anxiety tinting the rise of his question. He tries to regulate his breaths—in through his nose, hold, out through his mouth—but it feels like he’s not getting enough oxygen, which makes him panic even more.

“Someone with a fucking migraine, dickhead,” the voice says. “So keep the lights off and shut the hell up.”

(or: Nolan Patrick, Hotel X Ghost)

why i love it: i’m usually not super into ghost fics, both the spooky kind and the nonspooky kind, but this one is a rare exception. it’s charming and fun and tender and it’s got some of, in my opinion, the best characterization of tk and nolan in any fic. the way the author writes their dynamic and their dialogue is just unmatched

lets_make_this_moment_a_crime.mp3 by honeydripping

summary: Travis meets Nolan at a Midtown show in 2002 when he punches Nolan in the face. He can’t help it, “Like A Movie” just goes off.

But he does feel guilty about it.

or

TK and Patty work at a bakery together. They go to punk shows to pass the time.

why i love it: idk if anyone asked for an early 2000s emo/punk/alt au but wow! i sure am glad it exists! really the vibes of this fic, as silly as that sounds, are absolutely unmatched. i love the structure with the music, the development of their relationship, and just everything about how the author wrote the setting (there’s this whole thing with tattoos in it that makes me feel absolutely insane)

you’re ripped at every edge by you’re a masterpiece by conformityissuicide

summary: “Ugh, look, this yoga teacher has it out for me, man. And I can’t go back there without at least having some of the basics down. I’ve got to win this battle.”

“Yoga isn’t really something you win at,” Hartsy starts.

Travis cuts him off, “You can win at anything if you try hard enough.”

+++

OR that time Nolan's a grumpy yoga teacher and Travis realizes he wants to bone him and prove him wrong about Travis' non-existent yoga abilities.

why i love it: listen, if you want tknp, at least one of them has to be an idiot, and this tk absolutely captures the obliviousness i love to see in him in fic. it’s such a great characterization of them both and such a great concept (and even better execution)

you form a terror pack (and i’m aware of that) by dalmatienne

summary: “Can I help you?” TK snarks, both eyebrows hiked up in a way that has earned her many elbow checks to the ribs.

The chick looks down her nose, long thick eyelashes fluttering. Red-bitten lips part to blow a florid pink bubble and TK can smell the chemical sweetness when it pops.

“Yeah,” she says in this monotonous voice that seems almost at odds with her bubble gum and neon skates. She jams her stopper into TK’s thigh again, literally inches away from where it’d really hurt. “Tie ‘em.”

why i love it: to be honest, i generally don’t read rule 63 within hrpf, but this one is just absolutely knocks it out of the park. the concept (i fuckin’ love roller derby), the characterization of nolan, the pacing, the rituals, the tone of the entire fic, it’s just all around a perfect read from start to finish

thrills and grills by bitter_leaf

summary: Travis can’t even begin to wonder what he did in a previous life to incur the wrath of this fucking cook. Travis thinks he’s a nice person, doesn’t conduct himself in any way that could be considered particularly dickish, and unless this guy has some sort of issue with hockey bros or people from the boonies, he’s not sure how he started shit without even knowing.

__

Patty has a vendetta. Travis just wants to eat his eggs in peace.

why i love it: honestly this is the enemies to lovers fic i’ve been waiting for. i remember seeing the reddit post when it first went viral and thinking it would make such a great fic premise, so stumbling across this one was just so wonderful. super engaging and fun and so hilarious to read!

nothing but room for you by fightingfuries

summary: When his agent tells him he’s going to be traded to the Devils, Nolan isn't sure how he feels about it. Might be easier if he was going somewhere farther away, like California or fucking Florida. Somewhere sun-soaked and foreign. Someplace so different from Philadelphia that he can forget he ever played for the Flyers, forget everything that happened there.

Or Nolan fucks up, gets traded, gets his shit together and falls in love. Not necessarily in that order.

why i love it: i cannot stress to you how much i love trade fics, and this one is one of my absolute favorites. the trade to the devils-so close to philly, still, but there’s more to distance than physical miles-was such an excellent choice and the split timeline adds so much to the narrative, and the emotions are real and messy and complicated in the best way

a couple of runaways (i’m glad you stayed) by overturnedgoal

summary: The person in the video he’s watching is super annoying. Some obnoxious holier than thou granola type who keeps talking about their environmental impact as if they aren’t driving a gas guzzler around, but the basic idea of living in a van, driving around wherever, camping all the time, just going hiking and swimming and seeing the whole country? It sounds pretty dope, honestly.

why i love it: i like to watch tours and conversions of vans/buses into tiny homes as a self soothing method, and this fic has the same impact that watching those do. it’s such a fun concept, and it’s so fuckin’ soft, and the dialouge between tk and nolan is just *chef’s kiss*

all candor and style in the crook of your smile by p3trichor

summary: It’s a photo of Nolan on his knees with someones’ fingers in his mouth, lips slick with spit. Travis flicks by it almost too fast and he’s only got seconds to decide if he wants to screenshot it, if he wants to just give up the ghost right then and there. Except Travis’s phone freezes momentarily and then the group refreshes, sidcros87, Bert59 and 14 others took a screenshot!

It’s gone before Travis even has time to process it and he already wasted his replay of the day on a stupid video of a stupid fish that Hayes caught.

Can you send me that screenshot Travis texts Bertuzzi before he can overthink it, his dick already stirring in his sweats. Tuzzi sends back the cry-laughing emoji and then the screenshot before Travis can be too annoyed at him.

Or, Nolan is being weird about Travis's break-up and TK is maybe not straight.

why i love it: i genuinely don’t think i have words for the amount i love this fic. it took me forever to actually read, but it’s absolutely one of my favorite fics, and it’s an absolutely riot to read. carter’s meddling and the presence of tyler bertuzzi both make it extra fun, in my humble opinion

#fic rec #rec list: so you want to get into tknp: a beginners guide to a classic case of idiots to lovers #fic: flyers #fic: tknp #men's hockey fic #hockey fic #men’s hockey rpf #hrpf #fic: therainbowsedge #fic: manybumblebees #fic: jamesvanriemsdick #fic: catchascatchcan #fic: hackysack #fic: canary #fic: smudgedfreckles #fic: makeit takeit #fic: connectknee #fic: rusesdeguerre #fic: springsteen #fic: cloudsandpassingevents #fic: lighthousetowers #fic: mengetpegged #fic: honeydripping #fic: conformityissuicide #fic: dalmatienne #fic: bitter_leaf #fic: fightingfuries #fic: overturnedgoal #fic: p3trichor

[bbrandy2002]

The Getaway

Part Two

A/N: This is obviously a continuation of a birthday fic I wrote for @ao719 that is now 2 weeks late 🙈 I was dealing with stuff, dont judge lol The writers block and doubts were for real yo! But thanks to my Tumblr bestie, who wouldnt let me quit, encouraged me, talked me through this thing and gave me ideas, it finally all came together.

Anitah, I apologize for being so late and the silliness of this fic and if it's terrible. I still hope you had a wonderful birthday and are blessed with so many more 💜

A/N/N: Thanks to @burnsoslow for beta reading and literally a thousand other things.

Warning: A lot of bad language, a miserable Drake Walker and violence involving tasers, fires, animals and car accidents ... No one dies people!

**Drake and Liam belong to Pixelberry, Nikolas belongs to me, the driver and mailroom guy belong to @burnsoslow​ and Liam's secretary belongs to @ao719​

Drake stepped out of the truck in a furor, cursing under his breath, to check on his damages. The front driver tire had fallen into a deep ditch, and it was evident by the thick mud it sunk into that it would be next to impossible to get unstuck without some assistance.

He shook his head, gritted his teeth, and the veins in his neck enlarged and throbbed. As he knelt down to assess the damages further, Nik hopped out of the truck and stood over Drake. With one glance, Nikolas clutched his belly and let out a loud continuous cackle that soon sent a storm of hot blood that seemed to collect in Drake's crimson-colored face.

And the laughter just got louder and louder.

And the laughter didn't stop.

In Drake's head, it sounded like a thousand Niks laughing simultaneously, each one with two horns, a pointy tail, and a pitchfork in hand. 

His anxiety took over.

He stood up, and in an attempt to let some of his anger out, he kicked the tire with an enraged shout that echoed beyond the heavily-forested valley and sent flocks of birds in a frenzy.

The tire's air must have been over-pressurized by the drop's force and popped as soon as Drake's foot made contact. He fell back onto his ass with a heavy thud causing Nikolas to screech out in more laughter. Drake sat up into time to see the front bumper and side panel fall to the ground.

"I think your truck is broken, Uncle Drake," the prince chortled.

Drake's head whipped around and glared at the boy. "No shit! What the fuck are you even doing here? You're supposed to be on a plane to Paris."

Nikolas shrugged. "This sounded more fun." 

"This isn't fun, you little asshole!" Drake jumped up and attempted to lunge at the boy, but slipped in the mud, caught his balance for a split second by grabbing onto a tree limb, then slipped again, before wiping out completely. "Son-of-a-monkey-fucker!"

Drake laid on his back, staring up at a large tree branch that hung overhead, praying to God the damn thing would just fall on him. 

Nikolas walked over to him and looked down on the face of fury. "Is it time for dinner yet? I'm staaaaaaaving!"

"Nikolas," Drake groaned then took a deep breath, his back mud-soaked and achy. "How? How in the hell did you pull this off?"

Nik plopped down on Drake's stomach, causing him to grunt loudly. "Easy. I told my dad you invited me, and he let me go. He was happy you wanted to spend time with me." The Prince smirked.

Drake gritted his teeth. "And he just believed you? Fucking Liam."

Nikolas shook his head. "No. I got Neal in the mailroom to pretend he was you on the phone."

Drake lifted his head and glared. "You mean that grease trap that lives in the ambulance down by the river?"

The young prince nodded. "Yeah. Except he doesn't live by the river anymore. He moved behind the elementary school .. said it had a better view."

There was dead silence for a moment as Drake grimaced at what he just heard before jerking his hips upward. "Get the fuck off me."

Nikolas stumbled to the ground with an uproarious laugh.

Drake reached into his front pocket and pulled out his cell as he rose to his feet. He was dead set on getting someone from the palace to retrieve this little menace to Drake Walker society before he found himself tied up to a cinder block at the bottom of Lake Boogaloo. The issue with his truck could wait.

Liam and Riley would already be on the plane with Bastien in tow, so calling them right now would be useless. He pressed the contact for the palace operator, hoping to be directed to the mailroom; if Neal was part of helping get Nik into this, his shady punk ass could come pick him up in the renovated ambulance that served as his home and part-time blood mobile. 

Pacing back and forth, Drake raised the phone to his ear, waiting impatiently for a ring. 

"Trish! Put me through to the mailroom." 

While he was distracted taking care of that, Nikolas was somewhat disappointed the trip was already over -- he had so many plans for his favorite uncle. With his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips, he leaned up against the truck in a huff. "This sucks!"

The sounds of leaves crunching and brush moving around nearby caught his attention. Nik's eyes widened in fear when the black furry coat of a creature with a white stripe down its middle could be seen scampering around searching for food. The boy gasped and pinched his nose as the animal's foul scent started to become thick in the air and made his eyes water. "Uncle Drake," he called out in a nasally voice, "there's a skunk."

With a scowl, Drake lowered the phone and scrunched up his own nose. He took one glance at the animal, who didn't appear to be a threat, then glanced back at the kid. "It's probably more scared of your evil ass than you are of it. Just keep your mouth shut and don't move." The call with Neal resumed.

"But, Drake ..." Nikolas whined, trying to plead for him to listen but could tell his uncle would have none of it.

Frantic to scare the smelly animal away, the young boy searched the ground for something to throw at it: a large stick, a rock, Drake's Air Bud soundtrack. Those things might scare the skunk off, but they posed a risk of it spraying before doing so. Memories of the smell of Madeleine's office when he had one shipped to her came flooding back. It took a month for the palace to lose that scent. The prank was hilarious until it affected his comfort.

 A devilish smirk took shape as an idea popped into his head. “I need my backpack.”

Nik grabbed the top of the truck bed and stepped up on the rear tire and swung one leg over, then the other. He found his backpack and quickly unzipped it, pulling out night-vision goggles and a rope, then placed them beside his feet. He proceeded to move aside a bottle of industrial-strength super glue and the glass jar holding his tarantula, Barf. Finally, at the bottom of the bag, was the taser he “borrowed” from Bastien’s desk, and he quickly took it out. Holding the electrical gun in front of his face and twisting it around menacingly, he said, “Okay, Mr. Skunk. Get ready for a shocking experience.”

“No!” Drake yelled into the phone at Neal, “You can’t borrow my binoculars. What the fuck are you gonna use those things for at a children’s museum anyway?”

“The … the …” the man scrambled for an answer, “those dinosaurs … yeah … the dinosaurs. They’re, like, really tall, ya know? I want to be able … to, uh … see their faces and stuff.”

“I call bullshit,” Drake bit back, “I won’t be an accomplice in your bone watching … dinosaur or small boy.” He resumed his pacing, wanting to get the conversation moving along. “Now listen, my sister and brother-in-law are in Texas, Lord Beaumont is on a book tour, and the guards are off duty until the royal family returns. You are going to come pick up this kid.”

“Oh! I would love to come pick him up. He’s under 10, correct?”

Drake could practically hear the creepy mirth oozing from the man's gruff voice and spat back, "I'll be with him the whole time, you oily ass, ambulance-driving …  è piccola cagna!"

"What does that mean?"

Drake knitted his brows; he didn't really know, just that Nikolas called him that from time to time, and the word just kind of stuck with him. "Just ... just get here now!"

"Okay, okay! I'm coming."

The call ended. "God, I hope he meant that literally, and I didn't just get that fucko off." He slipped the phone into his pocket and turned to Nik. "Alright, listen up, assh ..." Drake stopped dead in his tracks and stood, stunned, at the first glimpse of a taser-wielding Nikolas with the gun aimed almost directly at him, with a tiny finger wrapped around the trigger.

"Wwwhatcha got there, boy?" Drake's voice sounded calm and friendly. He even managed to fake a genuine-looking smile. Inside, however, he was close to shitting his pants.

Nikolas licked his lips and closed one eye to find the perfect aim. "I'm about to fry that skunk with extreme vengeance. One ..."

"Nikolas, no! Give me the taser." Drake cautiously approached him with his hand held out.

"Two," the small but menacing voice continued the count.

"Nik, don't do it! Give it to me now!"

"Three.”

"Noooo!"

The piercing sound of Drake's shout startled the skunk, and it scurried out from the thick brush.

Nik jumped up with the taser. "Hey! Get back here, asshole." He aimed at the fleeing creature and pressed the trigger.

___________

The instant Drake's mocha-colored eyes fluttered open, an acrid mixture of what smelled like ass, sweat, rotten eggs, and his mother's hairy feet had bubbled up inside his nostrils. The aroma was slightly overshadowed by the 1200-volt prongs that had pierced just below the protruding vein in his neck, causing him to seize up and then drop like a rag doll to the dirt, and muck that littered the ground.

Close by, he could make out the discernible sound of footsteps crunching through foliage and bark and sloshing over wet earth.

Drake's cheek rested against the cold, soggy ground, even as the silhouette of the young prince crouched next to him with his little head tilted sideways and blinking owlishly. He saw the child's lips moving but blocked out the little shit until the feeling of electrocution and muscle spasms had waned.

Drake looked at the small face next to him that resembled his best friend at that age. Liam is a good man, Drake thought; he was a considerate child, too. We had fun together. We always had each other's backs and would do anything to protect the other, no matter the consequences.  Liam wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s just the best all around.  So …  how in the actual ass fuck did he produce the spawn of Satan? 

Is there any chance he’s ... Neal’s kid? 

Maybe Riley ... No, fuck, no. She wouldn’t.

The sky transformed from a brilliant blue to one streaked with gold and orange hues before Drake shook himself of the aftershocks that sparked through his body. 

The metal prongs left behind two bright red spots, resembling a large spider bite and stinging like hell when he pulled them out.  A thick layer of mud had dried and clung to his back, while a fresh layer adhered to his front. The numbness in his limbs had dissipated somewhat, but the pins-and-needles feeling remained. He was grateful the back spray from the skunk missed him, but the remnants it left on the nearby trees were stifling.

At this point, the only thing Drake wanted was a hot shower, a clean change of clothes, and to get stupidly drunk to the point he would pass out in bed and sleep for days. He scanned the perimeter and could make out the crystal-blue lake through a small clearing in the trees about 100 yards away.

Removing his filthy shirt and tossing it in the back of the truck, he eyed Nikolas, who was surprisingly quiet and subdued. The child was sitting on the lowered tailgate, swinging his legs, and trying to force his tarantula to eat a dead cricket. Drake rolled his eyes but was relieved the kid was staying out of his hair for now. He just needed to take a quick dip in the water, change his clothes, and hurry back in time for their ride home. Nik would be fine by himself for 10 minutes.

Drake let out a sharp tongue whistle that caught Nikolas' attention. "Listen up, kid. I'm going down to the lake real quick to clean up and change into some clean clothes." He opened the driver's side door and reached across the seat to toss his cell phone and wallet in the glove box while he continued, "You and your spider get in here and lock the door until I come back."

Nik dropped Barf in the jar and slapped the holed lid on it. "It's not a spider, Drake. It's a tarantula. A tarantula," he corrected with emphasis as he slid down from the tailgate.

"I don't care if it's your grandma's bladder control protection, get your ass in the truck, and don't move until I get back."

Stepping up in front of Drake, Nikolas sneered at an annoyed Drake towering above him. "I'm telling her you said that. And why can't I go with you? I wanna go to the lake, too," he whined.

Drake nearly doubled over in fake laughter. "There ain't no damn way I'm taking you. For one, you've ruined my entire trip. The one good thing I had in my life to look forward to, and you ruined it! And two, I don't know what the rules are about grownups, and nakedness, and with kids around, and all that shit. So the answer is no." 

Drake could tell by the beady little eyes glaring back at him that Nikolas would not give up on this. He let out a heavy sigh. "Look. Do what I tell you right now, and when I come back, I'll build a campfire, and we can make up some s’mores. How's that sound?"

“Okay.”

“Really?” Drake shook his head in astonishment that he actually won that argument. Without another word, he watched as His Royal Highness happily climbed into the cab of the truck and gave a thumbs up.

Did that taser kill me? I’m dead, right? He did it. Do you smell that, Cordonia? No, not that fucking rank ass skunk. It’s the smell of victory! Drake Walker is a god! I have the power back.

Grabbing his duffle bag from the back, Drake hurriedly made his way toward the lake. He felt a little on edge, leaving Nik by himself for even just ten minutes, maybe even somewhat guilty. But he was caked in mud from head to toe, and the grime was starting to seep and burrow around certain parts of his anatomy. Nothing was worse than having monkey ass.

Within minutes, Nikolas sat on his haunches and looked out the back glass. He hadn’t wanted to show it, but he did feel a little bad for shooting Drake to the point it drew blood. Also for causing him to crash his truck. And even though it was funny as hell to watch, the second slip in the mud was kind of brutal. Perhaps a little remorse was starting to set in as the words of his Uncle Drake telling him that he ruined the one thing he was looking forward to repeated in his head. Tomorrow he would return to normal, but Nik was determined to do something nice for a change for the rest of the evening.

With the quick snap of his little fingers, an idea formed, and it would be the perfect thing to make Drake feel better. Nik unlocked the door, grabbed his spider, and jumped out of the truck. He headed to the back and rummaged through the bags of camping items laid in piles until he found what he was looking for: a lighter and lighter fluid.

“I’ll make the bestest s'mores ever for Uncle Drake. That’ll make him happy.”

Nikolas had never built a campfire before, but he’d seen it done in a movie once, and that was good enough in his mind to practically make him an expert.

Feeling clean and refreshed, Drake dried off from his dip in the lake and put fresh clothes on. Making his way back to the site, he caught a glimpse of thick, black smoke protruding above the trees and the smell of burning rubber that traveled with the approaching evening breeze.

“Nikolas,” he muttered as his heart crashed into his stomach. He raced back as fast as he could, fearing the absolute worst thing had happened to the Prince of Cordonia. “I knew I shouldn’t have left him alone. Liam and Riley are going to kill me, and I would deserve it. I just hope he’s not …” he trailed off when the site came into full view. It was worse than he imagined.

His eyes searched frantically until relief washed over him when he caught his first glimpse of Nikolas sitting under a tree, eating, and seemingly unconcerned by the inferno that had lit up the dusky sky.

Drake rushed over to him and lifted him into his arms and held onto him tightly.  “Are you okay, buddy?”  

Nikolas chuckled, “I’m fine, Uncle Drake.”

He lowered him back on the ground and started patting him down, looking for burns or injuries. 

Drake let out a sigh of relief. “How? How did this …” he turned to look at the fire, then raised his voice. “Wait! You caught my goddamn truck on fire?”

Nik followed his uncle's gaped-mouth stare to the truck engulfed in flames, then screwed up his face. "Yeah ... about that. I think I used too much of that lighter fluid stuff building a campfire. But I made you something." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a s'more, licked the melted chocolate off the side, then proudly held it up to Drake. "The marshmallow is exactly the way you like it, too: completely charred."

Drake dropped his head into his palms and repeated a slew of curse words and sounds that were not even human. As badly as he wanted to destroy everything around him at that moment, to release a fit of anger the likes of which no one had ever seen in him before, it appeared Nikolas had beat him to it: There was nothing left around there to destroy. 

He dropped his arms to his sides in defeat and looked to the heavens before surmising, “This is my punishment, isn’t it? I stole that taser from the guard as a kid and let Liam take the blame for it. I insisted Liam come with me in that boat during a storm, and he nearly drowned when it overturned. He got lost in the woods on my time. I pushed him too hard once during maze tag. I got stuck in that laundry chute all night, and Constantine took hide-and-seek away from him. This …” he motioned to Nikolas, who was smiling back at him with a big cheesy grin, “this is how he got me back for all of it. Well, you win, Liam! You win!  I hope you are having one hell of a time in Paris, schmoozing and laughing your ass off, because I have nothing left in this world but this …  hairy, lint-filled s’more with your son’s saliva all over it …  and it’s not even toasted right!”

“I didn’t make it right?” Nikolas asked thoughtfully. “Hang on. I can make you another one.” He bent down, pulled out a marshmallow from the bag and rammed a mud-covered stick entirely through its center. Drake watched as Nik skipped over and held it next to the flames shooting out the window of his truck.

For several seconds, Drake contemplated whether he should just leave the child there and let nature take its course. Glaring back to the star-filled sky, he groaned, “You owe me big for this.”

Tugging Nik by his jacket hood to pull him away from the hot blaze, he startled the boy who then whipped around with the burning marshmallow and accidentally got it stuck to Drake’s shirt. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Ten minutes passed, and the two were on the dirt road heading back to the highway’s main stretch. After patting out the fire on his shirt, Drake planned to call the fire department to report the inferno taking place in the woods. He laughed wryly when he realized the phone was still in the glove box of his burning vehicle. And it appeared Neal’s skank ass wasn’t coming after all, so the pair would have to flag down someone and hope they actually stopped. Thankfully, Nikolas had his backpack on, and Drake used the night vision goggles to direct his way along the darkened path.

Hand in hand and approaching the main thoroughfare, Nik’s legs were starting to tire, and his droopy eyes looked up. “Uncle Drake, will you carry me?”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Pleeeeeeease,” Nikolas begged in a high-pitched squeal that grated Drake’s teeth.

Drake stopped with a huff and crouched down. “Get the fuck on my back,” he commanded, “you’ve burned and shot the front part of me, so your ass is gonna have to hold onto the back. And I swear to God, Nik, if you so much as drool on me, you can sleep in the woods with the wolves and bears and poodles. Understood?”

With a tired nod, Nik wrapped his little arms around Drake’s neck and held on. As they proceeded ahead, the prince asked, “Would you tell me a bedtime story?”

Drake grunted, “You wanna bedtime story? I’ll tell you a bedtime story. It’s an ol’ Bianca Walker original that she used to tell me every night called ‘Go the fuck to sleep!’ The end.”

Nikolas sleepily chuckled. “I already have that book, Uncle Drake. My dad’s secretary, Charlotte, gave it to me and told me to put it in my room. She said if my mom or dad found it, just to tell them you gave it to me.”

“Of course she did,” Drake scoffed, thinking about the other person who found pure delight in annoying him.

Through the night-vision goggles, the headlights of a random car could be seen driving by, and Drake let out a relieved breath, knowing they were so close.

The night couldn’t end that easily, though. A sudden sense of unease enveloped Drake, telling him that everything was not as it seemed. His steps quickened, and his heart pounded away in his chest.

Feeling like he was being followed, he turned on his heels, then widened his eyes. 

A large brown bear let out a roar that echoed past them.

Drake shrugged his shoulders and muttered, “Yep. That’s about right.”

The survival training he’d learned from his Campers Anonymous group about bear encounters kicked in, and he completely stilled his body. That was until he heard, “BEEEEAAAR!” screamed over his shoulder and felt Nik’s body drop to the ground.

“Don’t move, Nikolas,” Drake ordered through a whisper.

It was too late; he was gone and headed toward the road.

Drake whirled around to see the bear on its hind legs, drumming its chest and licking its lips. “Shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Wait for me, Nik!” He took off running.

--------- 

Alyssa was headed back to Cordonia earlier in the night than she expected. With her hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel, she complained to her friend through the car's Bluetooth, “The guy showed up one hour late to our meeting spot, then drove through a McDonalds, asked if I wanted anything, proceeded to park behind a church and tell me he has condoms before the cops picked him up on a warrant! Worst. Date. Ever.”

Driving around a bend in the road, Alyssa slammed on the brakes when her headlights reflected off a small child darting into the road. As her tires screeched, she let out a deafening scream when a man came out of nowhere, followed immediately by a bear. The frantic man shoved the kid out of the way.

Though  the brake pedal was pressed to the floor, the car collided with Drake, and his body flew onto the hood before falling feebly to the road.

The bear sniffed at Drake and batted him around a couple of times before taking off into the woods.

When Alyssa was sure it was safe to do so, she and a crying Nik both crouched around a moaning Drake.

_________

The following morning, Drake's eyes fluttered open. His vision was a little fuzzy, but he could make out a doctor hovering over him and a worried Liam standing with Nikolas at the foot of his bed. He tried to speak, wanting to know what happened, but was unable to open his mouth.

"Don't try to speak, Mr. Walker. Your jaw was wired shut to protect the small fracture you suffered from the car accident. You also broke both legs and sprained your neck. You have a long recovery ahead of you, but shouldn't need to spend any more time in the hospital. You’re a very lucky man. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will get the discharge papers and check to see if the ambulance transporting you to the palace has arrived. His Majesty has offered to allow you to recover in his home." 

Drake took one look at a gleeful, bouncing Nikolas and shook his head as best as he could with a neck brace on and emphatically mumbled his indiscernible objections.

Liam chuckled, "Quit being so modest, Drake. I assure you it’s no trouble at all. Besides, it's the least I could do after you saved my son's life. And Nik here even offered to let you stay in his room to keep you company."

Nik nodded with a grin. “Yep. For the next eight to 12 weeks, it's just me and my Uncle Drake hanging out all day and night.”

Drake tried to escape from his bed but couldn’t move without use of his legs.

Liam walked around to the side of the bed and put his hand on Drake’s shoulder. “Look at you trying to protest. You never were one to accept charity. I told you, I’m more than happy to help. You deserve this and more.”

A knock at the door diverted their attention and a head popped in. “I’m here to transport Mr. Walker back to the palace, Your Majesty.”

“Perfect! And on such short notice too. So glad my secretary could arrange this ride,” Liam exclaimed. He glanced down at his injured friend in the bed and smiled. “You ready to go home, my friend?”

No! No! That’s fucking, Neal. He doesn’t even have a real ambulance. I’m not going. Somebody, anybody, heeeelp!

#Happy Birthday Anitah #2 weeks later #hahahahah #better late than never #drake walker #king liam #little shit #I'm so sorry this is ridiculous

[border-spam]

Leech Lord - Naivety

You know all those little things adults say to kids that they take at 100% face value cause they don't have the life experience yet to understand nuance?

That they tend to then grow out of as they get older and begin to absorb information from people around ‘em who know better?

Yeahhhhhh, the twins got none of that.

The twins believe shit in their 20's that they misunderstood as kids and decided was fact, or that Leda and Typhon had said with a jokey air - not realising their children would never be in a position to learn it wasn't true.

Troy gets uncomfortable around the idea of being bedridden for more than a day or two, has to get up, has to pace or try and exercise, has to move. 

Gets worried if people he cares about say they are having a day in, sitting on their asses and doing fuck all. Sends bizarre little pings to Sei and Ven when he finds out from Eli they are having a couch slum, asks them if they would rather be at Sanctum, asks if they want to take a midnight trek to the dunes so he can show them some of the cave paintings he'd found wandering with Jak-Knife a few months ago. Gets.. strange about it. Worried.

Cause it's almost like they don't know you're meant to keep active, that keeping active is what keeps your heart going.

Mom had said that, said hearts are important, they are strong and weak and you have to try and.. and keep them working all the time, that you have to try and not stay in bed even if you are sick, Troy. You have to try and move so your little heart will be..

He worries about his friend's hearts some nights for so long that his own starts skipping beats.

Tyreen remembers seeing eyes in the water once, HUGE flickering things that shifted deep in the lake, blood red and burning beneath the dark waves somehow. Hundreds, thousands growing in size as they hissed whispers that filled her mind and built in decibel till it reached a cacophony of broken screeching.

She told Troy, who told Typhon, who told Leda, who laughed and told them all it was just Sleep - taking shapes to watch and wait for children to start to dream so it can fill their heads with stories. She winked at Typhon, who'd laughed and agreed with her, told them that's how he got all his adventures.

Troy loved it, excitedly chattered as he climbed under the blanket next to his sister about what dreams he hoped he would have, maybe the sleep thing in the lake would give him a great one about fighting monsters and being an adventurer, maybe he could fly, maybe -

She'd stared blankly at the wall their cot faced, terrified.

It's been over a decade and Tyreen still feels flashes of some deep seated disturbance if she catches flickering shapes in the corner of her sight. There's a reason she sneaks into Troy's bedroom even when she can barely remember why he makes her feel better.

The eyes that cover him are... quieter.

Neither of them believe in superstitions or the idea of an afterlife. They grew up too removed from the idea of either to give them any credence as adults, but they do parrot some things they've carried since kids.

Troy won't eat scavenged food unless he sees animal tracks surrounding it, nibbles taken from edges. Needs to know something else ate it first. "Never eat what others aint, can be sure dat's poisonous", dad told him when he was 11. He carries that still.

Tyreen tests locked doors twice before she steps away, can't shake the air of discomfort if she doesn't. Has to go back and do it again if she hurried or skipped it. "Always twice, Ty "- Typhon had lectured when she was 7, "Once can be luck, twice is for sure. Never worth it kid, imagine we come back one day and all our stores were eaten up, huh? Or a Manta got at the generators. Always twice."

Seifa has a million tiny habits all rooted in some bizarre cultural superstitions she doesn't see that way at all. The trade fleet goes back so many generations from so many different parts of the galaxy that thousands of stories and beliefs have merged into ridiculous little actions half of the migrants can't even explain at this point.

Brings a little thing to leave in someone's home when invited, it's a trade off. If you're asked over, if you're treated like a family member, better leave a gift behind. A tiny thing usually, a little cacti in an oil can, a bauble she carved. Anything, just to place somewhere for them to find and remember their hospitability.

Doesn't like to sit facing a sunset. Keep your back to it. Long shadows are an advance warning, can't hide in the warm light.

First dollars spent from any new deal are on people who need it. Always. That's the rule. You con some smarmy fucker out of a 40 tonne import transaction fee for shifting their Oranium deposits between a couple of leeway stations off orbit, then you buy a meal for someone who needs it, or cancel a debt. First cash ain't yours. First cash is for people who need it first.

Never ties her hair up at night, even if its an unstyled mess and others will see. Doesn't irk her the same way being unfinished would around people, if her makeup was ruined or her clothes filthy. Not in the same league, somehow. Hair up is for business. The night is to relax. You stop work, you drop that burden. Let your hair down, smile, breath.

Will fix things without being asked. It's good manners. Opens her hand and gestures for damaged shield rigs to be passed over mid conversation, armour panels she's noticed are cracked, loose gun sights. Tinkers with them as she talks to the owner, hands them back repaired, never even mentions this in words. It's not to be spoken of anyway, that alters the deal. Only does it with people she likes though.... it's a simple way to know you're in Ur Machina's good books.

Asks are Open!

#Borderlands #borderlands 3 #bl3 #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #calypso twins #my writing #leech lord #my hcs #seifa #Sbsart

[shadowfae]

In the interest of the eight people who just followed me, I don’t know how to make a pinned post but here’s another introduction to who I am, what I am, and what I do.

So, uhm, hey! I’m Pale, I also answer to Luteia or Lu. He/him or fae/faer pronouns please. I’m 20 years old and been in the community since I was roughly 13-14, but made this blog after I’d been in the community for a year or so. I’m primarily fictionkin, and also call myself an Absol theriomythic because the word is beautiful, it technically fits, and a greymuzzle (it was Page) said I could so I’m going to do that.

I’m in university for IT, hoping to go into network security because I want to be one of those rich furries who keeps the internet running. I also write a shit ton, mostly fanfic, but as everyone’s seen it takes exactly one ask to get me to give you a five thousand word essay on a topic of your choice that I know stuff about.

I’m a practicing witch, slowly inching my way into neopaganism, particularly the Irish branch because I am part of both the Irish and Scottish diasporas. I’m ADHD-adjacent, which is my best guess for why I have an incredibly bad sense of time as well as nasty as hell executive dysfunction, no noise regulation to speak of, a heightened sense of taste and no sense of audio processing, bad procrastination, and none of the hyperfocus or energy levels that are the main ADHD tells. I’m working with my therapist to figure out what the fuck that is, but for now we’re going with ADHD-adjacent until I figure it out.

I’m aroflux (which is to say that I experience zero romantic attraction towards humans, and it looks like I’m demi towards nonhumans? I think? Someone ask me how that works and I’ll try to summarize it) and very bisexual, quite trans and nonbinary, and I absolutely enjoy talking about how those intersect with my otherkinity. Someone get the dialogue starting, I want to write essays.

I have a carrd for those of you who like reading carrds. My main fandom at the moment is Saint Seiya, and if you ask me about literally anything in that you will get an essay, particularly if you talk Spectres to me because those fuckers are just theriomythics and we all know it. Ahem. I will talk about my own canons if you want to know, I know the point of being fictionkin is to tell everyone how it actually happened and because you want to know what your favourite character thinks of your ships. I don’t mind playing that role a little if you’re all respectful about it, but games are always fun.

So, hello! Welcome to my blog! If you were expecting a tl;dr, you’re never getting one, sorry about that! :D Everything is tagged, let me know if I forgot a tag, and hello!

#luteia laments

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader] pt.7

wow it took 30 years didnt it. i did it, fuckers. please give me attention-

anyway, heres the final part :) do i know how to proofread? no. thats it thats all i was gonna say, i just dont know how to proofread.

warnings: uhhh none i dont think

                                                            -

              In the middle of August, the Ninja Sex Party dropped their newest album “Cool Patrol” and the two of you were in love. You were in Jeremy’s room, lying on his bed beside him sharing headphones as the album played, and it all felt so teenage rom-com that Jeremy was half-distracted the entire time by you and lost different lyrics because of that. “Orgy for One” played and you nudged Jeremy before mouthing “you” to him with a playful look in your eyes and a smile that set his heart racing. He laughed, and nudged you back just as playful before the beginning to “Danny Don’t You Know” brought the two of you back into reality. He was emotional, and so were you, and there was something about sharing an emotion with someone that was intimate enough to make his heart skip a beat. 

             Your phone buzzed after a while, and you sat up, pulling an earbud out. “Fuck, Jeremy-” You stood up quickly, scrambling to get your things together, “-my cousins were coming over to do that picture thing since we didn’t get a chance before - I gotta go, alright? I’ll text you in a bit.”

             He wouldn’t remember what he said to you, or the dumb joke you made as you were leaving his room. He would remember how the minute you left, he added “Heart Boner” onto your playlist with a devious little smile as if he were getting away with something. Just a little joke between friends. After all - you had that little moment together, how could he not not? 

                                                            -

             An hour after you left, Michael showed up with a plastic bag filled with Chinese takeout for three - eyes widening when he saw your absence. His smile fell as he looked towards the bag in his hand, frowning slightly as he began to delve into his thoughts. For what felt like minutes, the two boys just sat there in silence as Michael finally untied the bag to pass his friend his portion of their meal, frustration evident in the way he furrowed his brow and refused to look him in the eye.

             “They had a family thing,” Jeremy said. “Didn’t [y/n] text you?”

             “No,” Michael said, “they did not. I said I was coming with food and-”

             “It’s tradition,” Jeremy countered. “Y’know? It’s that little... sign-picture-thing. Some sort of family tradition their parents started when they were little.”

             Michael rolled his eyes at the sappy expression crossing his best friend’s face as he placed what had been your meal on the dresser, before collapsing back onto his bed - tilting his head back to maintain eye contact. “That’s cute and all, but what do I do with their orange chicken?”

             He shrugged, turning back to his computer to close out Spotify. “I dunno - we can go by their house later and see if they want it.”

             He heard his comforter shift and assumed that Michael rolled over onto his stomach. “But I have egg rolls for them,” he whined, voice muffled slightly by what Jeremy could only guess was Michael laying his face in his hands.

             A quick booting down of his computer. He shrugged again, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Just don’t eat them?”

             The moment of silence could have killed a man. “Jeremiah.”

             He spun to face him. “Michael.”

             They maintained eye contact for a moment, before Michael shifted so that he was now sitting up - pulling the plastic bag closer to him. “So did you two fuck yet?”

             A thousand broken words slipped past his lips as Jeremy struggled to say something - a question, a swear, something that didn’t make him look stupid. “Why would you ask that!?” he tried to ignore the way his voice raised an octave.

             Meanwhile, Michael seemed to have no problem with disregarding his panic. “So you haven’t.”

             “Uh. No? We’re just friends?”

             “You sure?” Michael asked, not even giving him the chance to answer as he looked away. “I don’t know, dude, you’ve been pining for a fuckin��� while now. Why don’t you just ask them out?”

             “I don’t like-” he paused, before shaking his head. If Michael knew, then he knew - there really wasn’t any point in denying it any further. “I don’t know, I like Christine still-”

             “You can like more than one person at a time, Jeremiah.”

             “I know, but...” “I don’t even know if they like me still.”

             “Dude. Bro. Homie. Broseidon. Buddy. They wanna fuck.”

             “Michael!” 

             “They’re at least interested in you,” he said with a mere shrug of indifference, “do you just not see how they look at you?”

             “I don’t-” Jeremy started, and then he stopped, the words he wanted to say sticky and catching in his throat like honey. “I don’t think-” He paused, shutting his eyes, “Michael, I don’t know why they’d still be into me. Like... they did the whole...” He tapped at his temple, “thing because of me.” He hesitated. That wasn’t entirely true, was it? “Or... they did it slightly because of me. I just - I don’t think they’d, uh, y’know... want anything to do with me like that.” 

             There was understanding in Michael’s eyes, lit up before he looked away to the carton in his hand. He dug through it with chopsticks, letting out a sigh, “Dude, I get that, but... they like you, dumbass.”

             Jeremy laughed it off. “Yeah, sure.”

             “I mean it!” Michael countered, before dropping the topic, “I’m gonna eat your food if you don’t.”

             “What-” Jeremy popped open his order, “fine, okay - but this conversation isn’t over, Michael.” 

             “Mhm. You’ll accept it later.”

             “That’s not what I meant!”

             “You really suck at hiding your feelings, y’know?”

             “Michael!”

                                                            -

             Two weeks later, and Jeremy wasn’t sure how to feel. 

             There were strings of these little... moments between the two of you. He realized how much time he was spending over at your house after Michael teased him over it, how often the two of you studied together and how flustered he’d get when you were close to him, how many times he found himself grabbing your favorite candy from gas stations just to make you smile. One Sunday night, he was sitting at the end of your bed with a pillow hugged to his chest, spending another night at your house while Michael was off spending time with his family (not that Jeremy wouldn’t have been there otherwise - he stayed over every now and then just because he wanted to. Movie nights were good. Dinner was good. Being around you was good). You sat at your desk, legs crossed awkwardly in your chair in a position that looked uncomfortable to him but you showed no signs of discomfort as you continued to draw. The two of you had been talking, and Jeremy had just sat there fascinated with watching you draw after years of not recognizing your progress.

             A question hit the air, heavy and loaded. “Would you have taken it?” You didn’t move to face him, the soft sound of your tablet pen tapping back against the surface as you scroll out and fumble giving away any nerves. “The... the SQUIP,” you went to clarify.

             But he understood, and he spoke quick: “no.” He shifted slightly, holding the pillow closer to himself, “not after what it did to you.”

             “But if you hadn’t known,” you said, pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts, “if... if it had been you, would you have done it?”

             “I mean... I don’t think-”

             “You can say yes, Jeremy,” you finally looked back at him. “I’m not gonna be mad or anything.”

             His shoulders slumped slightly, a bit relieved of the thought. “Okay, then... yeah. I mean, yeah - who wouldn’t?”

             You turned back to your work. “Yeah. Yeah, right? It sounds good. Like... you have a pill that’ll solve everything and tell you the right moves to make... who wouldn’t want that?”

             That’s when Jeremy realized you’d been doubting yourself. Blaming yourself for saying yes. “I think a lot of people would have taken it.” 

             “Yeah... I think so, too.” You stopped drawing after a moment, turning around fully to face him, “can I confess something?”

             He nodded slowly. “Oh. Uh. Yeah, sure?”

             “I don’t keep the Mountain Dew Red because I’m scared it’ll come back and destroy everything and leave me fucked,” you said in a rush of words, shutting your eyes for a moment. “Sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest but... I think it’s better this way.”

             “Hey, no,” Jeremy reached out, fingers brushing over your shoulder. “Michael and I would find more.” 

             You fumbled with your pen, it falling to the floor as you swore softly under your breath. Jeremy reached for it just as you did, foreheads clashing in cliche fashion as you immediately push back. A moment later, he offered your tablet pen back to you.

             He spoke after you took it. “Hey, uh, c’mere for a minute.”

             So you dropped your pen onto your desk and pulled your chair over to the bed. Uncharacteristically calm and soft, he took one of your hands in a motion less Jeremy and more... you... you weren’t sure. It wasn’t entirely Jeremy, that much was confirmed.

             “There was this stuff that mom used to way when I was a kid,” he said quietly, dragging his thumb over your knuckles. “It was this whole...thing about how the ‘loudest voice has to be yours’ when you’re doubting yourself and shit - I don’t know, it just kinda stuck with me and... I’m glad I’ve gotten to know you, because you’re... different? Like - you keep going, and, uh, you’re a big nerd who laughs at my stupid jokes and... I’m glad you’re you, I guess?” 

             You cracked a small smile as you pulled back from him. Before he can question whether he crossed a line, you answer, “I’m saving this. I can’t focus on art with your sappy ass saying shit like that.” You stood, tucking your chair under your desk as you sat on your bed. “Fuckin’ sweet dork,” you mumbled as you pulled Jeremy into a hug.

             He stiffened up for a moment, only to wrap his arms around you after a moment. He smiled into your shoulder, saying a muffled “Shut up” into it as you giggled.

             You pulled away with a smile. “Why don’t you make me, Jeremy?”

             One of his biggest regrets was not asking to kiss you right then and there.

                                                           -

            Days later, you were in his room for once, sitting on his bed beside him. You were tired, far more than he was, looking at math problems that were blurry to you as you stifled back another yawn. Jeremy had stretched out, awkwardly leaning against his headboard as he tried to stay away until you finally resigned for the night - shutting your notebook and tossing it towards your backpack with a noisy clamor. You leaned against him, mumbling words long forgotten into his shoulder - likely about hating numbers - only to whine when he sat forward a moment later. Soon enough, he returned to be your pillow once more, laughing softly as you curled into his side contently and making some joke about how you only wanted him around for this reason.

            “Nope,” you had hummed, “too bony. Bad pillow.” 

            He snorted a little, reaching up to tuck back a strand of hair out of place. “You seem happy.”

            “I am,” you hummed. “Since it’s you.”

            He reached up, gently tugging you closer to him in order to worm an arm around you. “You’re tired.”

            “Mhm.”

            “Sorry I kept you up.”

            “That’s okay,” you mumbled into his shoulder, shifting slightly to be closer to him. “Math is stupid.”

            “It’s not stupid,” he countered, “you just aren’t good at it.”

            “Thus making it stupid, Jeremiah.”

            Eventually, you went quiet. At first, Jeremy thought you’d fallen asleep, but you sat forward slightly, looking up at him and it was almost like there had been magnetism between you. You had leaned forward, and he gently reached up to guide your face to his, and the two of you kissed for a soft, quiet moment. Soon enough, you had drawn away and cuddled back up to him. He wasn’t sure if he fell asleep first, but he remembered how warm you felt against him and he remembered feeling nothing but warmth in his chest as he eventually dozed off.

            There were a few things that hit Jeremy when he woke up. The pain in his back from falling asleep half-sitting against the headboard of his bed, the weight on him that confused him for a moment for a millisecond before he felt your hot breath tickling his skin, face buried in his neck. Then the memory of the night before - of a clumsy kiss he’d been craving for so long, and the way you kissed back and maybe that was his imagination? He wasn’t sure, but the thought was enough to nearly make him jolt - but you were enough to keep him as still as he could be. He looked at how peaceful you looked, and he felt his heart swell at just how warm you were against him and the memory of your lips haunted him as he felt his skin grow hotter. If remembering kissing you was enough to make him completely flustered, anything more would probably kill him.

            Eventually, you woke up, groggy and sleep-ridden still at first as you sat forward and rubbed at your face. “Jeremy, I hate to break it to you-” You paused, yawning, “-but you aren’t a great pillow.”

            He chuckled at that, sitting forward. “Hey, uh... sorry to, uh, ask, but, uh, do... do you remember anything about last night...?”

            You stared at him, uncertain at first before you thought back on what had happened. You threw your notebook at your bag. And then... It came back to you, striking you hard and fast. “Oh.”

            “I- I’m sorry,” he stammered, “I just - I was tired and I wasn’t thinking and I shouldn’t have...” 

            And he slowly trailed off when he saw the way you were looking at him, voice caught in his throat as your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and then back. He heard you whisper something - “fuck it,” he was pretty sure - before you started going in for another kiss - and he leaned forward to meet you halfway, a hand sliding into your hair as you grow closer to him. The night before had been gentle, sleep-ridden and warm - and now the two of you are awake and clumsy and so wonderfully alive during this messy kiss. His teeth had clashed against yours, your forehead bumped against his, but you correct. A little less force, a little more gentleness, a changing of an angle - the tiny ways to make things better and less awkward.

            In a bold move you definitely didn’t expect, Jeremy’s hand falls to your hips, pulling you closer to him by your belt loops (a cruel reminder that you were asleep in jeans). His kisses grew slightly more frantic, more hungry, more needy - the tiniest little whimper slipping past his lips once you finally pull yourself back, breathing softly as you stared at him. His hand slipped back to your jaw, thumb grazing your jawline slowly and gentle.

            “Jeremy?” you whispered, staring at him, “wait, you-”

            “I... I know we were gonna try to be friends, but... I think I like you.”

            You stared at him, flustered as he tore his gaze away from yours - a pretty rosy hue decorating his skin, blotchy and creeping up his neck to the tips of his ears. 

            “I, uh, I mean, I didn’t... I never planned on, uh... I just - I don’t - I, uh, I think you’re... a big nerd. You... you laugh with me and you, uh, you care about things - and you... you remember things about me - and, uh, other people do but... you’re just... you’re different.” He trailed a thumb across your skin. “You... feel like home. Even, uh, even if this... doesn’t really go anywhere, I - I’m glad that I know you and- I understand if you don’t, uh, don’t actually want this to go anywhere but-”

            And you laughed. At first his stomach dropped, anxiety taking over as he grew nervous over the thought of you rejecting him - but something about the way you laughed made his heart flutter, one hand steadying yourself on his shoulder while the other hid your face.

            “I... I don’t really know how to explain it better, but... can I, uh, can I kiss you again?”

            And you laughed again, reaching up to brush back hair from his face. “Yes, Jeremy. You can kiss me again.”

#mj's writing corner #be more chill x reader #be more chill reader insert #jeremy heere x reader #jeremy heere imagine #bmc imagine #bmc reader insert

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary -Chapter 50

Warnings: none really

Tags: @alievans007, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @thunderintheshadows​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @valkyrie-of-the-light​

Face Claim for Esme’s brother Kyle: Taylor Kinney

“You know,” Kyle says, as he parks his truck in front of their mother's home.  Nik's already arrived; standing at the side of the Lincoln Navigator, flanked by her two security specialists while speaking to Michelle. Sunglasses still covering her eyes, a hand on her cocked hip. “You don't have to stay here. You could always just come and hang out at my place until Tyler gets back.”

“You live in a one bedroom apartment,” Esme reminds him. “There's going to be four kids, Ovi and his girlfriend, Nik and her people....”

“So I take you back to your place and stay there with you,” he suggests. “Keep an eye on things. Spend time with the kids when they get back. Help you out. I've got some vacation time owed to me and I know I could pull some strings and get some immediate time off.”

“K, as tough and as bad ass as you are, these people that are after Tyler aren't the kind you want to be messing with. Trust me. So as much as I appreciate you wanting to help out and wanting me to be comfortable, this is unfortunately the best of a bad situation.”

He smirks. “When mom is the best of a bad situation, that's when you know the situation is FUBAR'D.”

She gives a snort. “Definitely FUBAR'D.”

“Try not to let her get to you. I know it's hard. Trust me, I know. She's going to be losing her shit as soon as you walk into that house. She's going to drag Tyler through the mud and you know it.  She's been just raging him about him since you said you were coming home. And like I said, she's already got names and numbers of divorce lawyers.

Esme shakes her head. “Why does she have to be like this? Why can't she just give him a break? Why can't she just see him the way I see him? The way you see him, even. You don't hate him.”

“Never did. I was a little pissed that my little sister ran off with some strange guy and decided to stay half way around the world. But you're an adult and you can do whatever the hell you want. No matter how stupid I think you are. I wasn't going to hold it against him because you made the choices you did. It's not his fault you think your p...”

She slugs him in the shoulder. Hard. “Don't you even finish that sentence!”

“Heart. I was going to say heart.”

“Like hell you were. And maybe at first I did think with my...well you know...” she nods down at her lap. “...but that's not all it was, okay?”

“Well obviously. Or you wouldn't have married the guy and had four kids. Or is it four and a half now? Four and a quarter?”

“You can be a real shit head.”

“But I'm a lovable shit head. And the best big brother.”

“Considering the other ones are all assholes, you don't have much competition,” she teases.

“That's harsh, Esme. Way harsh. Look, I'm glad things worked out with you and Tyler. That the guy actually survived what he did and you two ended up together and I ended up having all those kids I get to spoil the shit out of. I've never hated him. And I don't hate him now that I know who he really is.”

“He's still Tyler, K. He's still the Tyler you know. Being a mercenary doesn't change that. There's job Tyler and there's Tyler. And I need you to realize that and accept it. Because I love you, but I love him more. And if you can't accept him now that you know, then....” she shrugs. “....I don't know.  Maybe it means you don't come around anymore. Maybe you become nothing more than another person to send Christmas cards to.”

“You can't get rid of me that easily, kid,” he playfully tousles her hair. “I'm freaked out by what  you told me,” he admits. “It's not every day you learn your brother in law is a soldier for hire. But, I know how much he loves you. How good he's been for you. And I know how much he loves those kids. So if you're cool with it and you can accept this whole job Tyler and normal Tyler thing, than so can I. Okay?” he taps the end of his index finger against the tip of her nose. “Are you sure you want to do this? I could find room at my place for everyone.”

“As much as I appreciate the offer, your bachelor pad slash den of inequity is not the place I want my children spending too much time in. I'll be okay. And if she really gets on my nerves, I can always punch her in the throat.”

He grins. “Remember that time you kneed the older kid in the face on the playground because he was picking on one of your friends? What were you? Like eight?”

She nods. “And he was in grade six. Tommy Chambers. That ignorant little fucker.”

“You busted up his nose real good. Embarrassed the shit out of him., too. Remember how his mom came to the house after school? Totally freaking out when dad answered the door. Ranting and raving about his kid fucking up hers and just going on and on and on.  You should have seen her face when dad told her that it was his eight year old did it. And not just any eight year old. His eight year old daughter. Lady about nearly shit her pants.  I know you got in deep shit over that, but I'd honestly never seen dad so proud of you as he did at that moment.”

She smiles at the memory. “I miss him. Even now.”

“Yeah, so do I. It's been a long time.”

She nods.

“You've done good, kid. With your life. Regardless of what mom says. Dad would be proud of you. I'm not so sure how he'd handle the whole 'my son in law is a mercenary thing', but he'd like Tyler. I know he would. He would have given him a chance. Probably would have called him Crocodile Dundee.”

Esme laughs at that.

“Remember how much he loved that movie? Tyler would have gotten so sick of that and wanted to punch him in the face.”

“He would have put up with it, though. He's been called a lot worse, believe me.”

“Yeah, you've got quite the gutter mouth on you when you get going.  Guy's got a foot and almost a hundred pounds on you and you just light into him and he takes it.”

“I wasn't talking about me, you asshole!” she uses her thumb and index finger to flick him in the earlobe.

“See? That's what I mean. You're feisty. You don't take shit. From anyone. That's why you guys work so well together. He can handle you. Not like that first prick you married,”  he looks up the windshield at where a clearly agitated and unamused Nik is still listening to their mother rant and rave. “Can't believe someone that looks like her would be with someone like Mark. Guy's a troll. First my sister and now her? What the hell is that about?”

“You should get out there and rescue her from the Wicked Witch of the Mid-West. I know how you can't resist flexing your muscles and playing the firefighter card for damsels in distress.”

“Something tells me she is far from being a damsel in distress. Something tells me she could totally kick my ass.”

“Oh, she definitely could. But I know you and I know that makes you even more interested.”

He grins. “You're not wrong.”

“Seriously, go,” she jabs her elbow into his ribs, pushing his towards his door. “Go and rescue her from such torment and torture. No one deserves what mom can unleash. Get out there and go and give her that smile of yours and let her see those pretty blue eyes. No woman can resists those eyes. Not even Nik.”

“She's a hard sell?”

Esme nods. “Just a bit.”

“Perfect,” his grin broadens. “You know I love a good challenge.”

“Then do it!” she encourages her brother. “Get out there and introduce yourself and impress her with your boyish charm and all your muscles. Go! Or I will drag you over there and throw you at her feet.”

“Like some kind of sexual offering to a goddess,” he muses.

“Would you go, you fuck head!” Esme laughs. “Go out there and get mom away from her.  You're a great catch. Even Nik will see that. And think of it this way, if you can manage to land Nik, that's a total kick in the nuts to Mark. And I know how much you love Mark.”

“It would be nice to get one last shot in at the guy. I didn't get nearly enough shots in when I beat him up in front of that hooker.”

“Then go! Go and charm her, Romeo. You can do it. I have faith in you. She needs a good guy. A normal guy. And you're as close to normal as anyone I know of, so...”

“What about your bags? I need to...”

“You can get them afterwards. There's no rush. Would you just do it? She's worth it, K. Way worth it. And I've heard she's quite the wild one in the sack. She could give you a run for your money.”

“Yeah? Think so?”

“Go!” she orders. “Before I call her over here and totally embarrass you in front of her.  I'm not going in yet, anyway. I have to call Tyler first.”

“No phone sex in my truck!” he orders, as he tosses open the driver's side door.

“He wanted me to call when I got here so he knows I'm safe. Get your mind out of the gutter. You can put it back in there when you get Nik alone.”

“I won't be putting my mind in the gutter if that happens. I'll be putting something else in there.”

“You're a pig! Don't make me regret suggesting this! Get out there. Make me proud.”

“You're my favourite sister, just so you know,”  he says, giving her a wink before climbing out of the truck and shutting the door behind him.

The shrill ring of his personal cell phone tears Tyler from his sleep. He's still fully clothed, including boots, in the middle of the bed; flat on his stomach, a forearm tucked under the pillow his face rests again. At first he's startled; disoriented even. The room is dark aside from the moonlight that streams through the patio doors, and his brain doesn't immediately register...or remember, for that matter...why the bed is empty beside him. It causes a brief moment of panic; head snapping up, furtively glancing around the dark room, about to call out to her when all of his senses return and it occurs to him that he's alone. That she's thousands of miles away. And it's all his fault.

His cell rests on her pillow and he blindly reaches for it, using his free hand to wipe sleep out of his eyes as he answers the call on the fourth ring.

“Yeah?”

“Hey,” her voice is tired, but there's a enough cheerfulness to it that eases some of the guilt he's been feeling.

“Hey,” he presses the heel of his palm into one of his eyes, anxious to rid of himself of that last little bit of lingering fogginess.

“Did I wake you up?”

“I must have dozed off.”

“Are you alone?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Thought maybe you'd had a wild night at a peeler bar and brought back a stripper,” she teases. “Or you only do things like that when you're in Russia?”

He grins. “It was actually Serbia. But Yaz doesn't understand geography. And no. There's no stripper here. I already sent her home.”

She laughs at that. And it's music to his ears. “You're lucky I know you're being a smart ass. And you're also lucky I love you as much as I do.”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I am.”

“What time is it there?”

He glances towards the digital clock on the nightstand. “Midnight.”

“I didn't mean to wake you up,” her voice is apologetic.

“It's okay,” he assures her, and rolls over onto his back.  The agony isn't as intense as it usually is; he's been religiously taken the pain meds -as prescribed- and it's managed to keep things dull and bearable. And the Valium for his PTSD has kept the anxiety and most of the hyper-vigilance under control;  mellowing him without making him feel like a zombie. “It was a long night. I didn't get in until ten thirty.  Must have just lied down, planning to just close my eyes, and fell asleep.”

“Where were you?” she inquires, and he knows what she's asking.

“We gave McMann to the IRA tonight.  It was time to hand him over. Whatever happens to him now, it's in their hands. And no, I didn't actually go into the storage place. I waited outside. I would have stayed away entirely, but they wouldn't take him unless I was the one to give him to them, so...”

“I understand,” she says, and it's genuine. “Are you okay?”

“I'm better.”

“Good. I was worried about you.”

“When don't you worry about me? I'm okay.  I miss you. But I'm okay.”

“I miss you, too.  I didn't think I'd miss you this much, this fast.”

Tyler grins. “I guess I should be flattered.”

“Yeah,” she laughs. “You should. I don't get all weepy over just any man, you know.”

“But, I'm not just any man.”

“No,” she agrees. “You're not. You never have been. You make the quite impression, Tyler Rake. In more ways that one. You're not just a pretty face.”

He chuckles at that.  “How's things going there?”

“I haven't actually gone inside yet. I'm still sitting in the truck. Trying to prepare myself for my mother's bullshit. Apparently she's already googled divorce lawyers and has all the numbers written out.”

“Well, as long as you're not planning on using any of them...”

“We are far from that stage,” she assures him.  “We are, right? Far from that stage?”

“I already told you, you're stuck with me. Right until the bitter end. You're not getting rid of me and I'm not getting rid of you. You're not getting rid of me, are you?”

“Never,” she declares.

“Tell her to fuck off. Or better yet, I'll call her and tell her to fuck off. I thought maybe things were better between us, after our little talk, but I guess not. She knows how to hold a grudge, that's for sure. Now I know where you get it from.”

“She isn't holding a grudge. She's being a bitch. She has no reason to hold a grudge against you. You haven't done anything wrong.”

“I seduced her precious, innocent daughter. Knocked her up. When we weren't even married yet.”

“I guess I shouldn't tell her that I let you choke me and pull my hair while you were seducing me.”

“Not unless you want to have her totally lose her last shred of sanity. Not that that would be a bad thing. We could lock her away somewhere. Completely ignore her. Never have to worry or think about her ever again.”

“Or we could just move back to Australia. That way she wouldn't be able to just show up on our doorstep.”

“Where'd that come from? Talking about moving back there?”

“I've been thinking about it,” she admits. “A lot. That things were so much simpler when we lived there. It's more laid back and the people are friendly and it's a better place to raise kids. We were happier there.  You were happier there.”

“I'm happy in Colorado. I'm happy wherever you are. Wherever the kids are. You know that. And it was my idea to move to Colorado in the first place, remember? It's not like you forced me to move there.  I'm the one that brought it up and practically forced you into it. So...”

“You're happy here, but you're nowhere near as happy as you were in Australia. It's your home, Tyler.”

“And Colorado is your home,” he points out.

“It stopped being my home a long ago. I didn't even want to come here in the first place. But we needed a change of pace and a change of scenery and I've tried my best to like it here. I really have. But I don't want to be here. I want to go back. To Australia.”

“Babe, going back there won't make things like they were five and a half years ago. Just because we go back doesn't mean things will go back the way they were.  It doesn't work like that.”

“But we'll be happier,” she says. “Away from my family. Both of us were so much happier when we were thousands of miles away from their shit We had our own life and we didn't worry about all the crap that goes on here. IT was just and me and Millie and it was perfect.”

“It's not just you and me and Millie anymore,” Tyler reminds her.

“The kids would thrive here. You know they would. There's good schools here and we could live in a small town. Close to the beach. That's your happy place.”

“You're my happy place.”

“You can't deny that things were better when we lived there. That we were both so much happier. We were more relaxed, we had less stress, we didn't worry about the shit we worry about here. It's a different way of live down there. And that's the way of life I want back. That I want for my kids. And for you. I just want you to be happy, Tyler.”

“I am happy. With you and my kids. You know that.”

“But you'd be even happier if we moved back. You know you would. I don't want you thinking I'm just saying this for you. We need this. Our marriage needs this. We need to go back to where we were the happiest. Where things seemed so much easier. And it will be better for the kids. We'll be happier, less stressed, there will be less tension in the house. They feel all of that. And I'd rather they didn't. You can't tell me that you wouldn't go back. I know you would. I know you miss it, Tyler. It's your home. You spent thirty six years there. And then you gave that up because you thought being here would make me happy. And it has. But not as happy as I was when we were in Australia.”

“Esme, if that's really what you want...”

“You need to want it too. This isn't just about me. You need to want to go back. Do you want? Want to go back?”

“Yeah,” he admits. “I do.”

“Then let's just do it. Let's just go. We can put the house here on the market. Or maybe even Kyle could take it over. Let's go pack up and go back.”

'Babe, it's not that easy. We have four kids. One on the way. We can't just pack up and leave. We have to plan things. We need a place to live before we move back there. I'm not doing the hotel thing again. Not with four kids and one on the way. When I get home, we'll look at places online. And we'll make plans. We can't just pack shit up and go. Maybe if it was just us. Or if we just had Millie. But things have changed since then. A lot of things have changed.”

“And money,” she sighs. “It's not like we have a lot.”

“Actually, we don't have to worry about that any more. Money.”

“What do you mean? What...?”

“The IRA paid me. And they paid me big. For getting McMann and handing him over.”

“Big as in?”

“Five million dollars.”

“Jesus Christ!” she shrieks.  “What? Tyler, are you serious?”

“I am dead serious.”

“But why? Why so much? Why?”

“Flynn just handed me a check. Told me to retire and take care of my wife and my kids.  I didn't even look at until I got back to the hotel. All he said was that they appreciated me busting my ass to get McMann and be so willing to hand him over. That they take care of the people who do them a solid. That's all he said.”

“But that much? Five million dollars?!

“I guess that's what a guy like McMann is worth. So money isn't a problem. That's the last thing you need to worry about now. The last thing we need to worry about. I can walk away for good and know that I can take care of my family. I don't even need to take that other job Nik offered. I can just get out of this entirely and we can leave and never look back. If that's what you want.”

“It's what I want,” she says.  

“When I get home, we'll start planning everything. Tomorrow I'm going to the bank and I'm going to put the money into our account. I thought I should tell you before you went to take money out and saw the balance.”

“I would have fainted!” she laughs. “Oh my God, Tyler. This is...I don't know...this is...”

“Huge,” he finishes for her.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “I don't even known what to say. This is insane. That they'd give you that much. I wasn't even expecting them to give you anything, to be honest. So this is very pleasant surprise.”

“A five million dollar surprise.  I get to walk away, baby. For good. I don't have to ever think about this job ever again. You don't ever again  have to worry about me walking out the door and not coming back. This is it. All I have to do now is find those kids, get them out of there, and come home.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“I've done hundreds of extractions. You know that.”

“Not against the Buckmans, you haven't. Please tell me you're not going in there alone, Tyler. Not when you have to get two people and yourself out of there.”

“That Nathan kid is going to come in with me.  Zak and Mark are going to watch the outside.  Not so sure I trust Mark that much, but I don't have much of a choice.  I think he'd sooner see someone put a bullet in my head than actually help me out. Probably so he could run back to you and do the whole 'comfort the grieving widow' bullshit.”

“Try not to let him get to you. He just wants to get under your skin and rile you up. Speaking of getting under Mark's skin and riling him up, I think I found a way to really get him where it hurts.”

“Yeah? Kick him in the nuts?”

“Figuratively, maybe. My brother is in the process of trying to pick up Nik. I'm going to send you a picture. They're looking very cozy.”

He waits as she puts the call on hold, and within seconds there's a notification as she sends the photo to him.  A picture of Nik and Kyle, shoulders touching as they both lean back against an SUV, smiles on their faces. It's a smile he's never seen on Nik before; her features much softer, eyes sparkling.

“Did you get it?” Esme asks.

“Yeah. I got it. I should send this to Mark. Just to be a prick.”

“Nik will get pissed for sure. You know she'll freak out on us. Especially me for sneaking a pic. Just hold onto it. In case you need it.”

“Blackmail,” he grins. “Nice.”

“They'd make a cute couple, don't you think? Kyle and Nik?”

“Well he's better than Mark, that's for sure. I don't know if he'd be able to handle Nik.”

“You were able to handle Nik,” she points out.

“There was nothing to handle. There wasn't a me and Nik. It was just sex. We fucked, she left. End of story. So don't start. And speaking of fucking...”

“And you tell me not to start,” she teases.

“That's what I wish I was doing right now. Fucking. You.”

“Well, as much as I'd like to indulge from thousands of miles away, I told my brother I would not partake in phone sex with you in his truck. But if you call me when you get up in the morning....”

“It'll be night time in Colorado,” he reminds her.

“Exactly. So I can get away from the wicked witch of the Midwest by saying I'm tired and then I can actually be talking to you and...”

“You have a filthy mind.”

“Listen, you dragged me down into the gutter with you five and a half years ago and I've stayed down there. And your voice does crazy things to my insides, so...”

He grins. “What kind of crazy things?”

“Phone me later and I'll tell you.   As much as I want to right now and as much as my hormones are out of control, now is not a good time. And you need to get him some sleep.”

“I'd sleep better if I could fuck you first. That always helps me sleep better.”

“Well then go and 'study' by yourself,” she suggests.

“Not the same thing and you know it.”

“Then you're going to have to be patient.  Get some sleep, Tyler. I'm sorry I woke you up.”

“Don't be. I wanted you to call. So I know you got there safe and sound.  I love you. Both of you.”

“I'm sure Kyle loves you too.”

“I meant you and the baby, smart ass.”

She giggles. “I know. And we love you too. Make sure you call me later. I have an itch that really needs scratched and you can help. Even if it is from thousands of miles away.”

“You expect me to sleep when that's all I'm going to be thinking about now?”

“If I have to suffer until later, so do you. Call me.”

“I will,” he promises.

“And be safe, okay? Be safe and be smart.”

“You know I will. And try not to kill your mother. I'm a little far away to come and bail you out of jail. Although if the cops know your mother, they'd let you of on reasons of justifiable homicide. Talk soon, yeah?”

“Very soon,” she confirms, and then disconnects the call.

****

Her mother barely acknowledges her arrival; never mind a warm embrace or even a reassuring smile.  Not looking up from the meal she's preparing at the stove, vigorously stirring the contents of a simmering sauce pot as others boil and bubble around it.  

“You cooking for an army?” Kyle asks,  as he lays a comforting and supportive hand on the small of Esme's back and escorts her into the kitchen, making sure she's settled herself into a chair at the table before moving to the stove and pressing a chaste kiss to their mother's cheek. “That's a lot of food.”

“Well, I've got all these extra people to feed. Nicole and her...whatever the hell they are...”

“Her name isn't Nicole,” Esme speaks up. “It's Nik.”

Her mother fixes her with a steely gaze. “Was I speaking to you? You're the last one that should be opening their mouth. Considering I had to take you in at the last minute. All because you're life finally blew up in your face like I told you it would right from the bloody beginning. I knew you'd end up back here,” she huffs. “When he decided he didn't want you anymore.”

“That's not what happened,” Kyle says. “That is far from what happened. So maybe  not freak out on her until you know the whole truth.”

“What is there to know that I already don't know? That he's a lying, cheating bastard that isn't good enough for my daughter?”

“When did this conversation become about Mark?”  Esme pipes up, and Kyle smirks.

“Don't get smart with me, young lady!” her mother hisses. “I told you five and a half years ago that this was going to happen. When you all showed up in the middle of the night, looking for a place to stay. You and him and that kid and the baby. I wanted to turn you all away. I didn't want that mess here. I didn't want him here.”

“He was a fucking name,” Esme snaps. “Call him by his goddamn name. I hate when you do that! He has a name and you need to call him by it. It's not 'he' or 'him' or 'that boy' or 'trouble maker'. Enough with that shit. His name is Tyler.”

“I won't say his name in my house. I can think of many other things to call him and not one of them are very nice. You sitting there, still defending him. Always defending him. No matter what he does wrong.”

“What has he done wrong? Absolutely nothing.  He's done nothing to me or the kids in the past five and a half years. All he's done is work his ass off to make sure we have a roof over our heads, food on the table, clothes on our backs, that the bills are paid.”

“She's right,” Kyle says. “Tyler hasn't done anything wrong. Not by her, not by the kids.”

Michelle glares at him. “And now you're defending him?”

“Someone fucking has to. I'm not just going to sit back while you have a go at Esme about him. He's not a bad guy, mom.”

“Yes. Yes he is. He's a very bad guy and he shouldn't be around my daughter or my grandchildren. Do you know what he does? Do you know how he makes the money to pay everything?”

“Esme told me. On the way here.”

“And you're okay with that?”

“Well, I'm not over the goddamn moon about it but it is what it is.  It doesn't change the fact that he's a good guy and that he's always treated her right and he's always treated his kids right. Just because you have a war to wage against him, doesn't mean we all do. You need to get over it. It was five and a half years ago. And Esme's a grown woman and she can do what she wants. She chose to stay in Australia with him. She chose to get married, have kids, the whole nine.”

“And now look,” their mother huffs. “Now look at the mess she's in. Four kids and no husband because he turned out to be just bad as I said he was.”

“You're jumping the gun, mom. Esme and Tyler are still together. He's still her husband. So maybe you need to chill the hell out and listen to what she has to say.”

“Excuse me?” she stomps across the room, pointing a wooden spoon in her daughter's face. “You're still with him? Did I just hear your brother right? You're still with him?”

“Of course I am. Why would you think I'm not?”

“After everything he's put you through in the past five and a half years? After every lie he's told you, every promise he's broken, after leaving you while you were having problems while pregnant with the twins? After all that you're still with him. Why?”

“Because I love him, mother. Because he's not the terrible person you're making him up to be. Yes, we've had our issues.”

She snorts as she stomps back to the stove. “That's putting it lightly. Look at the mess you're in right now. The mess we are in all. Because of his job. Fine upstanding citizen that he is.”

“Okay, that's enough,” Kyle gently orders. “Regardless of what Tyler does for a living, he's kept your daughter and your grandkids save for five and a half years. He's done nothing but love them and take care of them. So maybe give the guy a chance for once. Cut him some slack.”

“Never. He will get nothing from me. Ever. Maybe this time, this will be the job that finishes him off. Maybe he will die this time. That'll be the best that could happen for her and those kids.”

“How the fuck could you say that?!” Esme rages, and storms over to her mother. “That is my husband! How dare you fucking say that about him?!”

“You get out of my face, young lady, or...”

“Or what? What are you going to do? How can you be such a horrible person? How could you even say something that. About my husband. About the father of my children! That you wish he would die! How fucking dare you?!”

“Okay...okay...” Kyle steps between them, laying his hands on her shoulders. “...you need to calm down, kid.  Take it easy. You don't want anything going wrong. You won't want anything happening to the baby.”

“Baby?” Michelle shoves her son out of the way. “Now there's a baby? What is wrong with you? Why would you  do something like this? What are you? Nothing more than a whore to him?”

“You mean like the whore you were while we were growing up?” Esme retorts, and receives a slap across the face in response.  Her eyes narrow,  her brow furrows. “You did not just put your hands on me.”

“First thing tomorrow, you're calling the doctor and you're getting something done about that,” her mother nods in the direction of her stomach. “The last thing you need to be doing is bringing a baby into this mess.”

“You're sick, mom. There is something seriously wrong with you! First you wish death on my husband, now you want me to get rid of his baby? Your grandchild?”

“That is no grandchild of mine,” she hisses.

“So then none of the other four are, either. Is that what you're saying? Because Tyler's their father? You want nothing to do with any of them because whose DNA they share? Are you serious right now?”

“As long as you're still with him, you're not welcome in this house. That's just the way it is. As long as you're still with him, you're dead to me.  All of you are.”

“That's a little fucking harsh,” Kyle speaks up. “She's your daughter. Those are your grandchildren. Just because you have a hard on for hating Tyler doesn't mean you say shit like you're saying. Wishing him dead? Wishing an unborn baby dead? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I should have known you'd be on her side,” Michelle snarls. “On his side.”

“Of course I am! He hasn't done anything wrong! Jesus Christ. You hate on Tyler for bullshit reasons but Mark actually beat the shit out of her...on multiple occasions...and you love him. What is wrong with you? “What....?” he stops mid sentence when he fells his sister's hand tightly grip his jacket, and when he glances over, her eyes are closed. “...what's wrong? Are you okay?”

“Just dizzy. I'll be fine. I just need to sit down. I'm just so dizzy.”

“Here,” he curls an arm around her waist,  attempting to escort her to a chair before he feels her go totally limp against him.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #chris hemsworth character #sanctuary

[minervahopebeyond]

Blood Petals.

Hi!! I hope you like this one! Please let me know what you think ✨💕

Ps. As always I already checked everything but I apologize if you find any grammar or vocabulary errors.

Chapter 13: The article. (Part 1)

So, apparently it was impossible for things to just go well for him. If something was in order then another thing would go to hell. Draco was that lucky.

Thanks to the Patronus, he could communicate with Sirius and Mr Potter without a problem; he just waited for his roommates to fall sleep, closed his curtains on the bed, casted a muffliato and then he sent his Patronus over there. Shortly he would get an answer from them and Draco found himself safe again, like when he was at Grimmauld.

The only problem that brought up the Patronus Cham was the one with Ron.

Weasley didn't faint when he heard the news but he was rather indignant.

" How?"

Draco laughed as he prepared the chessboard.

"What? Are you jealous, weasel?"

Ron snorted and rolled his eyes, trying to seem unaffected but Draco knew better.

"I didn't know your little Gryffindor pride was so fragile!" He said with an amused smile on his face. "If it makes you feel better, I don't believe it's about me."

The redhead raised an eyebrow, bored expression on his face.

" I swear! It's like your bloody dog! That's not about you."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about, ferret?"

Draco rolled his eyes, Weasley could be so obtuse sometimes.

" Jack Russell Terriers are known for chasing otters. Ring any bells?" The blond boy said with a smirk.

Ron started to get awfully red and glared at him. He grabbed some of the biscuits he was eating and threw them at him.

"Stop talking about it!" The boy looked away. " Besides, dogs are loyal and Jack Russells are also known for being energetic, playful, and hard workers"

"So, basically, you are telling me that you are a Hufflepuff."

Another biscuit was thrown at him.

"Lions are proud animals... they are social because they live in prides. They are also territorial and protective. And last but not least, they are lazy fuckers that send the lioness to hunt while they sleep all day." Weasley snorted. "I don't see how any of that doesn't apply to you."

" Ha bloody ha. Joke is on you, because I will never have a 'lioness'."

The redhead was still eating, then he talked with the mouth full.

"I'm sure, someday, you will find a pour bastard that spoils you rotten, every hour of every day."

He said it so quick, Draco's smile faded and Ron looked at him confused for a few seconds. Then he remembered and his eyes turned sad.

"It's okay, Weasley. I don't need to get married to be happy. If I make this two years count for something then I'm going to be happy. I swear."

His friend was looking at him, hurt, Draco felt awful.

" If you would just let us help you! People care about you, you prideful stupid git!" He yelled at him. He was figuring out what to respond but the redhead stood up and walked away.

And for the first time ever, Weasley stormed out and let him alone playing chess.

It wasn't exactly a fight. Ron was too good of a person to ignore him, given the situation. But something was there, Draco could feel that he was upset and maybe a little mad at him. The redhead was trying not to show it but the blond boy could tell.

As days passed things were getting a little more rough between them. They would stay silent for long periods of time while playing chess or Ron would smile less when he was around. Draco hated it with all his being.

He still talked to Potter, there wasn't much to say, though. Sometimes he would stop himself from getting too close to him, too friendly; because he feared that, if they became real friends, the boy would start to talk to him about Ginevra. He wished scarhead all the bloody happiness in the world, they could dance over Draco's grave for all he cared, he just didn't want to hear about it.

31st of October would be the following week and the green-eyed boy told him about this brilliant idea that his father had, of him spending the night at Grimmauld with them. He told him about how good it felt to be near them, because he always was kind of bitter at the feast, with everyone enjoying the night and having fun.

Draco, of course, already knew that Potter was sad on Halloweens. He learned that back in first year... That's why he suggested this plan to Sirius and Mr Potter on his letter. He just pretended not to know anything about it.

______________

Draco woke up that Saturday feeling good about visiting Hogsmade. He missed drinking butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks or going to Honeydukes. Today his plan was spending the entire day with Blaise and Pansy, he kind of owed them, after all. And he missed them, he missed them being happy and laughing with him. So, that was his main goal for that day: making his friends laugh and smile a lot.

Blaise was nowhere to be seen, so he most likely was waiting for him at the great hall, having breakfast with Pansy. He got changed as quickly as he could and went to meet them.

Today, you are going to be really nice and you are going to let me have fun. Is that clear, useless daffodils?

When he got to the Great hall, everyone had a copy of the Daily Prophet in hand. They were all whispering ’Can you believe it?’ ‘This is so awful, they should be ashamed of themselves’ ‘The anniversary is next week, who does that??’

He sat next to Pansy.

“What is going on?” He asked.

Blaise had a conflicted face when he looked at him. Then he made a gesture to Pansy.

“He is going to find out anyway.”

Blaise sighed and put the newspaper in front of him.

“It’s the front page.”

He could only stared at it.

REBORN FROM THE ASHES: SIRIUS BLACK AND JAMES POTTER

There was a picture of them under the headline, the were walking at the street, smiling at each other. It looked like Sirius had said something funny, because for a brief moment, Mr Potter

threw his head back and laughed. They were close to each other, which wasn’t new... but in this context it seemed like it was. He started to read, then.

We all know that Sirius Black’s name has been cleared. This year we had the grand surprise of welcoming James Potter back to our world, and thanks to that we found out the truth about the events of that awful night back in 1981.

Both of them had been spotted on the streets of muggle London, as they were about to enter a restaurant, looking quite cozy. I think we all want to think that this is just a mistake, but sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words.

We also could get a statement from someone who went to school with them, who wishes to remain anonymous.

‘There were rumors about them, back in Hogwarts, they were never apart. And the entire school knew that Black was gay, maybe it was even why he got disowned. Just saying.’

Only one week away from the anniversary of the death of the Potters (although now it would be commemorated as Lily Evans Potter death), it seemed rather shocking to all of us.

As always, my intention is to keep my readers informed of everything, even when the news turn up to be uncomfortable.

Written by: Rita Skeeter.

What a load of bullshit! Sirius and Mr Potter weren’t dating! They would had told Potter. There was no way in hell they would of hide this from him. They wouldn’t let him find out like this. And most of all, they didn’t deserve this, after all that they went through... it was too much.

He looked at Blaise and Pansy with a pained look on his eyes. He had to go, do something. Pansy sighed but nodded.

“You better meet us at the three broomsticks.”

“You two are the best friends that one could ask for” He hugged Pansy and smiled brightly at Blaise.

“Yes, we know. Now go with the Gryffindors, Dragon.”

He got up and walked towards their table. Potter was frowning at the article. He heard Granger speak.

“Harry, this is Skeeter. She wrote that we were together in fourth year, based on a stupid picture too.”

“Yes, mate. They would had told you, you would know.” Weasley was always seeing through people, always being perceptive. Draco sat down next to Potter,in front of the others two thirds of the golden trio.

“ I agree with both of them. This is bullshit and really insensitive, in so many levels.”

Harry turned to look at him,the frowned seemed to fade a little, before the boy nodded.

“Yes, you are right. Of course.” The boy cleared his throat before continuing. “I’ll meet you outside in 15 minutes? I think I need to be alone for a little while.”

Draco frowned at that while the other two nodded at him. They had worried expressions on his eyes.

Draco waited for Weasley and Granger to finish eating breakfast. None of them were in a mood to talk, the blond boy just wanted to check on Potter before going to the Three Broomsticks.

They waited for a while, trying to give the green-eyed boy some space, before they went to meet him. They walked in silence until Granger spoke.

“Are you spending the day with us?” She didn’t mean it in a bad way, her tone was more curious than anything else. Draco shook his head.

“No, Pansy and Blaise feel a little abandoned because I spend Sundays with Weasley already. I promised to be with them the entire day... But this happened. I’m meeting them there later.” The girl murmured something like ‘Oh... okay’ and nodded.

When they got outside, Potter was not alone. Theodore was standing in front of him, with Vince and Greg beside him.

“Don’t tell me that you are crying, Potter.”

“Leave me alone, Nott.”

He looked at Potter to see if he could find any trace of tears on his face: nothing. Good. Draco grabbed Weasley and Granger by their arms, indicating them to not get closer. Potter hated being saved, he could look after himself.

“Don’t worry. We are not going to tell anyone.” Theodore said in a fake tone. “I would be ashamed too, if I had a deviant as a godfather... Not to mention your father turning into a shirtlifter.”

Oh, no. He was going to kill him. And Vince and Greg too, because they laughed. He found himself marching towards them, furious. He stood in front of Potter, looking at the Slytherins.

“What the fuck did you just called them?” Theodore, no, Nott; rolled his eyes.

“This doesn’t concern you, Malfoy.”

“Unfortunately, it does, so let’s try this again.” Draco took a few steps closer towards the git. “What the fuck did you just called them?” He hissed.

He was close to Nott, he wanted to intimidate him, to make him realize that he just made a big mistake. That moment right there, was his chance to take back what he said, and move on with his day. But Theo could never let something go.

His hazel eyes where looking right at him, with determination, with the desire of winning. Then he spoke really slowly, enjoying the words that left his mouth.

“I said: Sirius Black is a deviant and James Potter is turning into a shirtlifter for him.”

This is something that Draco hated and loved about Theodore: he enjoyed being mean. The blond boy, always appreciated the honesty of it all, the brunette didn’t pretend to be polite or a good person; he was good with his friends and mean with the rest. Draco hated that sometimes he took it too far.

He pulled a face of disgust and disappointment and took a step back.

“You think you are really funny, don’t you? Making fun of someone for who they love.” He snarled at him. “I personally think that the article is bullshit... but even if it were true, I don’t see how you could joke about it.”

He laid the trap right in front of him. Back the hell off, Theo. We both know how to play this.. The other boy just snorted.

“That’s because you are a fairy too, Malfoy”

Draco just smirked. You are so stupid, darling. I’m going to destroy you.

“See? Don’t you think is a little basic and old fashion? To make fun of someone for their sexuality, I mean.” He raised an eyebrow, smirk still in place. “For example, if I wanted to insult you... Maybe I would point out that your lack of wit and brains, could be because of the inbreeding.” He heard the Gryffindors gasp in amusement behind him. Theodore glared at him.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh, but I’m not even finished.” Then he looked at him up and down and bit his lips. He could swear that Theo blushed a little, before being notoriously uncomfortable. “But if I were to stood in your level... I would kindly remind you that most of the openly homophobic bastards, turn up to be closeted and ashamed themselves.”

Nott took out his wand and Draco followed.

“Let’s remember that I’m better at dueling than you, Theo. Why don’t you save the little dignity that you have and leave.” Then he looked at Vince and Greg. “You too, I don’t even want to see you.”

Theodore looked furious and hurt at the same time. He gestured the other boys to follow him and they walked away from there. He was watching them go when he heard Weasley.

“That was brilliant, ferret!”

Draco turned around to see the boy. The redhead was already pulling him into a hug. He was surprised at first, they never hugged before, and at the moment, they were in this weird limbo of friendship. The blond boy blinked and returned the hug. Good, this felt normal again. He couldn’t feel Weasley being mad anymore.

“That was almost as cool as when Mione punched you in the face!”

Draco chuckled and pulled away from the hug to look at him.

“I feel honored, weasel.”

Granger walked to where they were, smile on her face.

“Thank you for standing up to them, Draco”

He widened his eyes, dumbfounded. Granger avoided speaking to him... Now she was thanking him. He nodded.

“It was nothing, I’m sure you would had punched Nott in the face, if I hadn’t intervene.” He smiled at her. The girl chuckled and agreed with him.

They turned to look at Potter, then. The green-eyed boy was staring at him... trying to say something but no words left his mouth.

“I’m sorry if I got in the way. He insulted Sirius and your father and I just couldn’t leave it.”

Potter frowned at that.

“He insulted you too.”

Draco nodded and did a gesture with his hand, to indicate that it wasn’t important.

“I’ve known him for a long time. He can’t say anything about me that I haven’t heard before.” The boy was looking at him, curious, and then he nodded.

“Do you want to come with us to Hogsmade?”

He started to feel the tickles. He is just being friendly, you brainless flowers. Draco smiled and shook his head.

“I can walk with you there, but I really have to spend the day with Blaise and Pansy. They will kill me if I ditch them.”

Potter seemed a little disappointed to hear that, but he just nodded at him. The daffodils didn’t stop moving, making him feel tickles all over his lungs, pulling him to be near the boy; Draco force himself to stay where he was. He felt Weasley put his arm around him.

“Let’s go then, ferret.”

The day was a little cold, but it was still fall ,so it was enjoyable to be outside. As they walked there, Draco noticed that Potter was rather quiet. He wished that the green-eyed boy wouldn’t worry about the stupid article from Skeeter. The Daily Prophet always wrote shit, everyone knew that. The ministry used them to manipulate information, it wasn’t exactly a coincidence that Sirius and Mr Potter were on the front page, while the disappearances weren’t.

Hogsmade has this peaceful air that Draco always found very soothing. Since there were just a few weekends a year where the students could get out of the castle, everyone was happy, it was like a pause from all the awful things that were happening outside.

“Potter, enjoy today. To brood over it won’t get you anywhere.”

He turned to where Draco was, anxious green eyes looking at him.

“Fine. Have fun with Zabini and Parkinson.”

#drarry #fanfic #fanfiction #prongsfoot

[thinkyoureholy]

Soul Eater [3]

[A/N : the beginning just gives y’all better insight on the shit she has to deal with as a demon and by shit I mean Lucifer, fuck that bitch]

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Pairing : Jung Yunho / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?, Demon! AU

Words : 3.2k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I walked through the dark corridors, scowling at the black cloaks we were forced to wear. Why the hell was I even here? All he does is mock me and dismiss all the things I’ve ever said to him so why-

“Y/N? Whoa I haven’t seen you in half a millennia.” He whistled, scanning my body from head to toe, “What brings you down here?”

“The same reason you’re here.” I answered almost robotically, walking passed him without another word but he was persistent.

“Oooh so even someone of your caliber shows up to these kinds of things? I’m impressed. So does that mean you care about our lord as much-”

I cut him off, reaching out to grab at his throat faster than he could react, my claws digging into his flesh, “He is not my lord. I serve no one. I just don’t want him to send his little minions after me like he did three hundred years ago. I’d rather not have to deal with his pesky little rats again."

He smirked, raising his hand in mock surrender, "Easy there, I meant no harm."

"Just stay out of my way from now on if you don't want to end up like the others. You'll do well to heed my warning." I threatened, my hold on him tightening.

He didn't say a word but as the seconds ticked by I just squeezed tighter. I was impressed that he could withstand it for so long but even he seemed to be struggling after another minute or so. By this point the veins of my arms were protruding, his blood coating my hand as it seeped out of his neck. He grit his teeth as he wrapped his hands around my wrist, digging his own claws into my skin but all that did was irritate me. I scoffed before extending my wings out in a menacing fashion, watching his black eyes go wide with fear.

"Don't think you can mess with me like you do everyone else. I'm not one to be taken lightly, Ceri. Don't play games with me or you'll regret it." 

With that I let him go, watching him hit the ground with a thud. As soon as my claws were out the holes on the side of his neck closed up. I gave him one last look before hiding my wings under my cloak once more, continuing my walk down the corridor. That little runt just wasted my time, he didn't even put up much of a fight, I should’ve known the bastard was all talk to begin with. I scoffed at the thought, pathetic.

……

I stood off to the side, keeping my mouth shut as the others spoke with one another. I just wanted this to be over but I was curious as to why we had been called. We don’t normally get called down here, at least not us higher level demons. 

“Any idea why we were summoned?”

The voice snapped me out of my thoughts, drawing my attention away from the crowd, “No. And before I forget, stay away from Yunho from now on. You don’t know how surprised I was to find out you were a friend of his.”

“Really? Well you sure fooled me. I was beginning to think you had forgotten all about me.” He replied sarcastically. 

I rolled my eyes, “I don’t know what you're planning but you actually convinced that idiot to summon a demon and make a deal. As stupid as he is his soul is still mine so stay away.”

Mingi smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets, his eyes flashing for a moment before settling back to their normal black, “Damn...and I was hoping the sucker would summon me instead, to bad I was busy when he did. You’re lucky you live so nearby…”

He was smirking the whole time, masking his true feelings so well I didn’t catch on to the fact he was putting on an act.

“Lucky? More like cursed. I mean what kind of idiot sells their souls for something as stupid as having a significant other? Couldn’t the idiot just go out and try dating a few people first before he summons a demon? I mean there’s even dating apps now for crying out loud.”

Mingi snickered, leaning back against the wall behind him, a permanent grin on his face, “Humans...they’re desperate creatures...and vulnerable as well. I sometimes feel sorry for them.”

“You? In all the time I’ve known you you’ve never felt sorry for another living being, not even yourself.” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest.

His grin spread at my words, I almost began to worry that his face would split right in half from how big he was smiling. But at the same time the sadistic fucker might enjoy the feeling of his face splitting apart. He chuckled low in his throat but said no more, turning his attention back to the others that were in the room with us.

There were about one hundred of us in here but he wasn’t here yet, I could even feel the presence of the deadly sins but not his. Actually now that I think about it...I could only feel the presence of six deadly sins...where’s the seventh? My eyes searched the room, locating each sin, counting them off as I saw them; Gluttony, Lust, Greed, Pride, Sloth...and Envy. Where the hell was Wrath? I nudged Mingi’s foot with my own, grabbing his attention.

“Hey...have you noticed yet?”

“Noticed what?” He asked, his tone of voice bored as his eyes continued to scan the area.

“Look for all the sins, tell me what you see.” 

He did as I said, his eyes jumping from sin to sin until he got to the last one. I watched as the gears in his head finally started moving, his eyes going wide.

“Wrath is missing.” He concluded, pushing himself off the wall to stand properly, “Where the hell is he? None of them have ever missed a summoning.”

“My guess is-”

I was cut off by a loud thud coming from the middle of the room. The room fell silent, the demons towards the middle took trembling steps back until everyone lined the walls, all but the sins that were here. I looked to where the thud came from and finally understood why everyone but the sins seemed surprised by the sight. It was Wrath, his body lay bloody on the floor. My hands began to tremble at the sight of his decapitated body, my breathing heavier than it was just moments before. There’s only one person that could do this to him and he wasn’t even a person to begin with. My eyes slowly left Wrath’s body, trailing up the body of the one who did this to him, Lucifer. His eyes met mine, a sinister smile on his face. He held my gaze, bringing his hand up so I had a clear view of what he had in his hand, Wrath’s decapitated head. With a chuckle he closed his hand into a fist, pulverizing Wrath’s head, blood dripping down his arm.

“I’m glad all of you were able to make it.” He spoke, his voice sending a chill down my spine.

At the sound of his voice every single demon in the room fell to one knee, bowing their heads, all but me. Mingi noticed that I had stayed standing, nudging me with his elbow but I didn’t budge. In the one thousand and nineteen years of my life as a demon I had never bent the knee to Lucifer, and I wasn’t going to start now. No matter how afraid I was, no matter what he threatened to do to me, I refused to bow to him. 

“I see you’re still as defiant as ever, Y/N.” He said, a chuckle falling from his lips.

Pride stepped forward, bloodlust clear in her eyes. I turned to her, ready to fight if that’s what she wanted but before she could take another step, Lucifer stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She glared at me with her violet eyes but didn’t move to come any closer.

“Why were we called?” I asked aloud, voicing the question all of us had as I looked back over at Lucifer.

He smirked, patting Pride’s shoulder before he took a step towards me, “The position of Wrath is now open, you all are the strongest of my children...so it’s only natural I choose who becomes the next Wrath from you lot.”

I set my jaw at his words. So this is why he called us here? I scoffed, turning my back on him as I began to walk out of the room.

“I’m not interested in becoming one of your dogs.”

As soon as I said that Pride appeared before me and had my throat in her hold before I even had the chance to blink, “Being a member of the seven deadly sins is the greatest honor our Lord could bestow upon us. How dare you be so disrespectful?”

I bared my teeth, bringing my hands up to grab at her wrist before giving it a twist, hearing the bone snap. I watched with disgust as she let out a yelp of pain, clutching her broken arm to her chest.

“Touch me again and the next thing I break will be your neck,” I growled out, shaking the feeling of her off my hands, “If I say I’m not interested I’m not fucking interested. Your Lord is not my Lord, I have no such thing.”

“Why you insolent little-”

She lunged at me but she couldn’t even get her hands on me, I made my move, moving  faster than her eyes could register. She crumbled to the ground, crying out in agony, clutching at her left shoulder. I stood over her, a bored look on my face. With a scoff I threw her severed arm back at her. I yanked the stupid cloak off my shoulders and wiped my hands clean of her blood, staring over at Lucifer who had been watching with a bemused smile.

“I’ll be leaving now. Next time you summon me make sure it’s for something worth my while.” 

His grin spread, a gleam in his eyes as a hearty laugh fell from his lips, “Of course, of course. Forgive me for calling you for a matter as trivial as this one.”

I knew he was mocking me, I could tell from a mile away but even so he didn’t move to stop me. I cast one final glance at Mingi who was staring at me wide eyed before I finally left.

-

-Yunho’s P.O.V-

I stood outside her door, too nervous to knock. She said to call her when I needed her to play the part but she never left her number with me so I had no choice but to come up here in person. The guys wanted to get together again and I said I’d go and let it slip that I had met someone without thinking. They had hung up before I could take it back so now I had no choice but to bring her along.

“Ah...why did I make this stupid deal in the first place?” I mumbled to myself, nervously combing my fingers through my hair.

I brought a trembling fist up to her door, ready to knock when the door suddenly swung open. I jumped back at the sight of her pitch black eyes. Her eyes bore into mine before she blinked, the black leaving as her natural eye color returned. Or were her black eyes her natural eyes since she's a demon and all? I shook my head, shoving that thought aside.

"H-Hey." I stuttered, waving to her but I didn't get a wave back.

She just stared at me, not uttering a single word. I stumbled over my own words, trying to figure out what to say without sounding like an idiot. Why the hell am I even so nervous? Just as that question popped into my head I made the mistake of glancing down at her lips. I looked away almost immediately, a blush rushing up my neck and face as I was reminded of the kiss we shared days prior. My lips still burned every time I thought about it...and I couldn't help but want another but I knew she'd wring my neck if I so much as asked.

"You--You said to call you whenever I...uh...whenever I needed you to play the part of my girlfriend. Well...tonight is one of those nights where I need you."

Again she said nothing, continuing to stare at me. I thought that's all she was going to do until she nodded her head before closing the door in my face. I frowned at the sound of the door slamming shut. I stood there flabbergasted, unsure if I should knock again or just leave. Just as I was thinking I should probably leave she opened the door once more, stepping out this time. She had simply gone to put on a sweater. She stuffed her hands into her pockets before looking at me expectantly.

"Oh--Oh right. Come on. We usually like to hang out at the bar a few blocks down." 

Again, for the third time, she said nothing. She only turned on her heel and headed for the elevator. I couldn’t help but scoff at her behavior. If she was going to play the part of my girlfriend the least she could do is at least act like she’s happy.

“You know, would it kill you to smile every once in awhile.” I muttered, joining her in the elevator.

And once more, like she suddenly lost the ability to talk she stayed silent, staring ahead at the closed elevator doors. I sighed in exasperation, rubbing my hands over my face, giving her a once over. When I did that I noticed a drop of something red on her cheek. Without thinking and before I could stop myself I reached out to her, swiping my thumb across her cheek, getting rid of the smudge. She looked at me wide eyed as I examined the red substance. If I didn’t know any better I’d think this was-

“Wait...this--this isn’t blood is it?” 

She stayed silent for a moment before she finally spoke, “It’s not human.”

Somehow that didn’t make it any better. Just as I went to ask what kind of blood it was she beat me to it.

“It belongs to another demon. But don’t worry she’s not dead...at least not yet. The bitch is lucky she’s his favorite or else I would’ve killed her already. She’s crossed the line one too many times.” She said in a low voice, a dark shadow hanging over her face, “I’m so sick and tired of them all…”

She muttered that last part to herself but due to the small space we were in I was able to hear her loud and clear. I said no more after that, getting the feeling if I continued to push the subject she’d snap at me. There was also something holding me back from asking about the subject further. The look she had in her eyes, not only was it one of anger there was a hint of anguish in her eyes. It was buried so deep I almost missed it but the moment I saw it my heart sank to the pit of my stomach. This was the same way I felt when I heard her voice thick with emotions the night I made the deal with her. She seemed so heartbroken when I had sold away my soul, I had never seen her so hopeless. In all my years of living I had never seen someone so unbelievably sad. I would assume that as a demon you lived without emotions and even though a month ago I wouldn’t have trouble believing Y/N was a demon because of the way she was but now, after experiencing what I did, now I could tell without a doubt Y/N had so much bottled up inside her. All those emotions she refuses to show, it would only be a matter of time until she couldn’t hold it in anymore. And when that time does come… I hope I can be there to ease her through it.

I snapped out of my thoughts when I felt her intertwine her fingers with mine. I looked down at our joint hands in surprise before looking over at her face. She didn’t even bother acknowledging my gaze, stepping closer to me. Okay, what the hell-

“We have to look the part don’t we?” She asked rhetorically, not even a hint of a smile on her face.

I just stared at her, my mouth hanging agape before I spoke without thinking, “Just what the hell have you been through?”

She stopped walking at that, bowing her head as she stared at the ground underneath her feet. I waited for her to speak, unconsciously giving her hand a comforting squeeze. But no matter how long I waited she kept her mouth shut.

……

 I watched in shock as she interacted with everyone. I couldn’t help but let my jaw hang open as I took in the sight of her smile, it was blinding. And the sound of her laugh? God, I swore my heart stopped and restarted multiple times in the span of five minutes.

“You might want to close your mouth there, Yun, you’ll catch flies.” Mingi chided with a smirk, closing my mouth himself.

I slapped his hand away from me, finally tearing my eyes away from Y/N, “It’s like she’s a totally different person. You know this is the first time I’ve seen her smile much less heard her laugh. I’ve never seen her this happy before.”

Mingi said nothing for awhile, his gaze on Y/N the whole time until a frown took purchase on his face, “She doesn’t look happy to me, dude.”

I rose a brow at his words, confused, “What do you mean? Look at that smile if she’s not happy then-”

“People hide a lot behind a smile, Yunho. And I’m telling you now, Y/N is anything but happy,” He cut me off before mumbling under his breath, “She hasn’t been happy for a long, long time.”

I opened my mouth to press him about what he meant when Wooyoung clapped a hand on my shoulder, drawing my attention.

“Yunho! Where the hell have you been hiding this gem?!” He exclaimed, gesturing over to Y/N who grinned wider at his words.

I didn’t answer as I just stared at her smiling face. I ignored the way my heart skipped a beat at the sight of it, frowning in response, thinking back to what Mingi had just said. Was that smiling face of hers really just a mask?

-

I leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. I had proposed that the two of us start getting together, alone. Of course she didn't see the point in it since this was all just for show but I managed to convince her. I had no explanation as to why I wanted to know more about her and get to know her better. A little voice inside my head reminded me that I've been curious about her since day one, the day I first moved in. Sure that curiosity died out, or so I thought. 

The moment I saw her smile back at the bar a few weeks ago that curiosity came back full force. I wanted to know everything about her...whether she'll actually let me in or not is entirely up to her.

.

.

.

Tags: @chanyeolol​

#ateez series #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #ateez #ateez yunho #ateez fluff #ateez ff #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #atee angst #ateez smut #jung yunho ff #jung yunho fanfic #jung yunho series #jung yunho scenarios #jung yunho fluff #jung yunho fic #jung yunho fanfiction #jung yunho angst #jung yunho #yunho fluff #yunho smut #yunho #yunho au #yunho angst #yunho ateez #yunho fanfic #demon au

[awkwardbluefish]

A Roomate or Two

—

Summary: Jason isn’t happy with what they do with Tim. Especially after not what happened to him. I mean being tortured into a baby joker? Yeah that wouldn’t be fun.Not at all. So what if he has an extra person to look after? It should be fine.

Warnings: mentions of torture and panic attacks

A/n: @aloofwindbag inspired me with their magnificent drawing so enjoy!

—

Jason sees red when he sees Tim. He’s small, tiny really and that straight jacket? It engulfed him.

“Hey buddy,” Jason says and hauntingly sad green eyes meet his. The once blue eyes widen before the boy glances down, shuffles his feet.

“You don’t like me,” he whispers and Jason cringes.

Cause yeah, he didn’t like this kid. Before that is. When he was still fucked up by the Lazarus and he wasn’t right in the head. He still wasn’t right, didn’t think he’d ever be again but at least he had his goddamn head out of his ass now.

He coughs and shrugs, clicking at hinges and pulling off the hood. He hooks it under his arm and leans against the white wall behind it. “Eh that was in the past. You’re all right kid, better than Dickie, that’s for sure.”

He doesn’t miss the way Tim curls into himself at the name, well, nickname. Jason doesn’t narrow his eyes but it’s a damn close thing. What the hell did the golden boy do now? Well, he could take a guess.

Tim swallows and Jason eyes the stark white neck at the motion. Anger coils around his gut tight, just like a fuckin’ cobra. If Bruce has just ended that bastard, none of this would be happening. How many robins does he need to lose because he can’t break one rule that could save thousands?

“Bruce doesn’t think so,” comes the whisper and the trembling starts. His arm move under the fabric and he starts rocking.

“When does Bruce ever think?” Jason jokes. It falls to deaf ears. “Oi, replacement- what are you doing?! Stop that!”

Laughter spills from his chapped lips and Jason is rushing forward. The helmet clanks against white tiles as he shoves Tim to his chest. The boy trembles, green eyes wide as tears spill down his pale cheeks. His lips are stretched up into a tortured grin and Jason tugs the boy’s face into his shoulder.

He holds him and he holds him tight. The laughter echoes in the room, only stopping for a wet hiccup or two. Jason rocks them, hand fisted in a green hair. He feels sick, bile licking at the back of his throat. Tim doesn’t belong here.

And he’s going to get him fuckin’ out.

—

Jason has more nightmares and Tim notices. He tried so damn hard to keep them down, to kick them the fuck out of his head. That hadn’t work.

He should’ve known Tim wouldn’t sleep well. It’s should’ve been obvious, obvious like the sky is blue and waters wet. And yet now he’s tracking the little shit through Gotham, on the first night god damn it, keeping an eye out for a pipsqueak with sickly green hair.

It takes two fuckin’ hours and now he knows why Alfred is basically bold. All of his hair is going to go white and this point. He isn’t even twenty five yet dammit.

Jason pointedly makes noise as he walks into the alley. Tim flinches before relaxing as the cat bumps their head under his chin. Well shoot, that’s just cute ain’t it?

“Looks like I found two runaways,” He drawls and Tim peers up at him under long murky hair.

He ducks again, avoiding Jason’s eyes. He huffs and moves forward, plonking himself on his ass, on most likely pissed on ground, to be closer to the kid. The things he does for the little runt.

The black cat hisses at him, ears flattened and fur on end. “Shove it,” Jason tells it wisely just as Tim soothes the little kitten with soft whispers.

It’s quiet for a while but then again Jason wasn’t ever one for patience. “I know why you ran,” he informs the boy and Tim tenses, refusing to meet his eye, “and frankly it’s a load of bullshit.”

“I have nightmares of that fucker, not you Tim. Joker did this to me, to us and you are not responsible for it at all. I have nightmares, yeah I’m man enough to admit it and so does everyone. I just got to get the fuck over it.”

Jason’s had enough of this sappy bullshit so he heaved himself up, patting down his butt because it’s wet and it hasn’t rained at all today. He just hopes he didn’t sat in piss. That wouldn’t be fun.

“C’mon kid. It’s one in the morning but I’m craving pancakes so we’re freakin’ getting some.” He informs them and he sees Tim smile. It’s small but it’s genuine. It’s his own smile, not one that was forcefully carved onto his face. Jason decides to ignore the mushy feeling in his chest. Yep, no need for that.

He makes a move to stand, freezing when the kitten mewls loudly in protest, claws digging into white pants. Tim freezes while Jason makes a mental note to go shopping. Yeah, that might be a good idea.

“Are you and the feline coming or what?” He grumbles, smirking when the look of shock and restrained joy crosses the kids face.

“We’re keeping her?” He asks and of course the little nerd would already know the cats gender. Jason most likely wouldn’t of even checked.

“She’s fiesty,” he tells him, hooking an arm around the boys waist and pulling the two tight to his person. “I like it.”

—

Jason’s watching the two passed out on his worn out white couch when he gets the call. He should have been expecting it, because of course they would know.

He makes sure he’s away from the brats before he accepts it. He doesn’t want to wake them up, and he doesn’t want Tim to hear this. Because whatever goes down Jason knows he’s not going to like it, not one fuckin’ bit.

“Where is he.” Bruce demands as soon as he answers. Jason rolls his eyes, leaning against the fire escape and rolling a ciggie between his lips.

He sucks the cancer in, letting it out slowly. He can feel Bruce’s impatience over the phone. Good, he thinks, let the fucker wait for a bit.

“Well hello to you to,” He drawls out lazily, uncaringly. He would rather be watching the two strays sleeping, it was- dare he say it- nice watching them both relax. Ew, he’s gone soft. Gross.

“Where is he.” He growls again and Jason smirks, he likes making him angry. It’s the least he deserves.

“I haven’t a clue of who you’re talking about,” Jason informs him, eyeing the wonderful view. A brick wall right in front of his apartment, how lucky can a guy get?

“I’m not playing games Jason,” Bruce begins, voice low and growled. “Where is Tim?” Bruce apparently isn’t playing around, and isn’t that a bummer. Because Jason isn’t either.

“Why the fuck do you want to know?” He cuts in, fingers tightening around the railway. He doesn’t want to get rid of the disposable phone just yet. He needs to hear Bruce’s so called excuse.

Bruce sighs like he’s just a kid and doesn’t know what he is doing. Well fuck you, he’s an adult now. He can do whatever the duck he wants.

“Tim is under my care,” Jason doesn’t let him finish.

“And is that why you chucked him in Arkham? Some caretaker you are,” He sneers, nice and low. The cobra is back and this time it’s ready to go in for the kill.

“Tim went through a lot,” and here comes the bullshitting, “he needs help and Arkham can give him that.”

Jason barks out a laugh, loud in the night. “You’re one of the richest men alive! You could hire anyone to help him and yet you throw him in Arkham with the crazies and expect him to be a okay?!”

“I didn’t say that-“ Bruce is angry but Jason? He’s fucking pissed.

“Exactly! You didn’t say any of that when you should have! They had him in a stray jacket and locked up like he’s a killer! You aren’t helping him Bruce, you’re pushing him away in the worst damn way possible.”

There’s blaring silence at his yell and Jason grits his teeth. He drops the ciggie and crushes it with his foot, kicking it over the balcony after.

“I know,” Bruce finally says. It’s said quietly, in a low murmur. “I failed him, I failed both of you. This is all my fault.”

“Get over yourself Bruce,” Jason snaps, “this isn’t about you and your self deprecation shit. This is about Tim, and Tim only. When you finally get your arse out of your angsty crack then we might be able to talk. Might.”

The hangs up right after, physically shaking. He always had to make it about him huh? It’s always about his failures, his mistakes. What about the people he failed? He never truly thought about that.

He scruffs a hand over his face and drags it down. He needs to go on eBay or some shot to get some furniture and nerd stuff.

He throws the phone, watching in satisfaction as it smashes against brick wall before tumbling down. Have fun tracking that old man.

It’s warmer in the house which is nice. It doesn’t feel as lonely anymore. He goes back to the lounge, flipping onto his armchair with a huff.

A tail flickers and a yellow eye flares at him as Tim stirs at the sound. Jason snorts. “Yeah, yeah you little shit. I’ll keep it down.”

A yellow slitted eye glower at him a second longer before closing and Jason resists groaning. He’ll have to get shit for the damn cat too, dang it.

Maybe he can get Barbara to help with that. She could give him Bruce’s credit card and his information. Yeah, that’ll work.

—

“Why did you do that?” Jason asks quietly, desperately.

He holds the soaked boy to his chest as he wraps his hands in a white bandage. His fists are split and purple, painfully bruised.

Tim doesn’t answer and Jason sighs, tying the bandage. He buries his nose in green hair, taking in the scent of fresh coconut.

They’re sat in the bathroom, glass cracked and splintered around them. Tim is shaking, staring at a piece of glass with unseeing eyes.

Jason tears his gaze away, understanding and guilt knowing on his chest. It looks just like him, with the green hair and eyes. Tim’s blood is smeared on it, making a bloody grin. Tim doesn’t see himself when he looks in the mirror, he sees the joker.

“I got some left over black hair dye,” Jason says quietly and Tim just nods, eyes haunted and desperate. Jason holds him a little bit closer.

—

They cut his hair first.

It’s a mangled heap and it genuinely looks like a birds nest. Jason knows the brushing has too hurt, because seriously, how couldn’t it?

Tim doesn’t even flinch though. That doesn’t settle right with Jason so he apologises after every yank and after every tangle is cleared. Tim accepts it with a small amused smile but his eyes? They remained haunted and empty.

—

According to Glamour it’s a good thing Tim’s hair hasn’t been washed in a couple of days. Jason thinks otherwise but he keeps that to himself as he starts the process of dying. Heh.

First Jason lathers the dye in his hands, snickering at the sound it makes. Tim smiles slightly at him, a small twitch of the lips.

He applies the dye half an inch away from Tim’s scalp. He massages his locks and slowly made his way towards the ends of the locks. After a bit he goes back and cover the roots, smiling when Tim finally began to relax into his hands like putty.

At least he’s finally getting comfortable.

—

“Tim- Tim oh my god,” Jason is saying and the little nerd is just giggling at him. “Tim stop, stop look at this little shit!”

Tim lets out an hilarious snort that Jason would have loved to film but he’s too busy gaping at the prancing little shit in front of them.

She- that damn cat- was red! Red! “I let her on my couch, oh my god Tim I let her on my couch.”

Tim looses it, curling into himself as Babs, the newly named orange cat, climbs up his back and curls around his neck. A yellow eye peers into Jason’s soul and Jason swears the thing is smirking.

“Tim, Tim my couch is white. White.”

—

“Is he safe?” Is the first thing he hears when he answers the call.

Jason sighs into the receiver, adjusting the mobile to fit more comfortably against his ear. His hands were loaded with shopping bags. At least he’s taken his helmet off. Yes, yes he did go shopping as Red Hood. Fuck You, he does what he wants.

“That depends,” he says, heaving ten grocery bags onto the counter. He glances behind him, smiling when a soft snort reached his ears. “Do you consider me safe?”

“You’re better than half of the people in Gotham,” Barbara tells him, voice laced with anger and annoyance. Jason knows it’s not at him, it’s at this damn city. The damn world.

“You’re too sweet to me,” Jason informs her, ruffling through the bags and taking out the freezer stuff.

“I know, and I’ll continue to be if you take care of Tim.” Barbara says simply. There’s ruffling on the other end and he guesses she’s in bed.

He silent for a moment, shoving the meat and frozen peas away. “You know I will,” he finally says, “as long as you and Alfie come visit of course.”

“What about Dick?” She asks and Jason slams the freezer shut accidentally. “...I’m guessing that’s a no.”

He cringes as a warning meow and and a flick of a tail is directed at him over the couch. Yeah, he deserves that one.

“Of course it’s a fuckin’ no. He did nothing to stop Bruce from putting Tim in Arkham. Hell, he didn’t even go to find Tim with you guys on that night. He not getting near him in a 10 mile radius or I’m kicking his arse.” Jason curses and Barbara laughs slightly.

“Watch your language,” she teases and just like that the mood is lighter. Just a bit. “You got a kid in the house now.”

“Fuck you,” Jason wisely replies back, slotting the drinks into the fridge. He shuts the door quietly, well aware of the Brady yellow eyes aimed at the back of neck. “And for your information I have a kid and a cat in the house, so suck it.”

“Wait-,” Jason snickers at the sudden ruffling, placing the biscuits and chips into the cabinet. “You guys have a cat? Since when?”

“Since Tim ran away because he thought he was the reason for my nightmares. Found the brat in the alley with the stray. She was black Barbara, then she was red. I let her on my couch, my couch.”

Barbara is chuckling softly, clearly amused at Jason’s distress. “The next thing you know she’ll be going purple,” she teases and Jason scowls, folding up the bags and sticking them in the bottom draw.

“I was prepared this time. I got a blanket on the couch, nice try little fucker.” He declares proudly, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the back of the couch. Babs stares at him before curling into Tim’s chest happily.

“Please tell me you didn’t call it little fucker.” Barbara says despairingly and Jason smirks.

“Nope!” He sings.

“What’d you call it then?” She asks and Jason grins. She’s just gonna have to wait.

“You’re gonna have to wait my dear,” he teases and Barbara groans, “you shall know when you come visit!”

She laughs at that and Jason can imagine her shaking her head. “You tease, okay then. You’ll have the money by tomorrow morning so try to get everything sorted out then, yeah?”

“Yes ma’am,” Jason murmurs, smiling softly. Oh god, he’s gone soft. How gross.

—

“Tim, tim please stop! It’s just lightning, he’s not here!” Jason says desperately, holding Tim wrists to stop him from scratching at himself.

Tim just screams, tears streaming down his pale cheeks, eyes screwed up and chin trembling. Spit bubbles past his lips when he sobs out a hiccup, fighting desperately against his memories.

Jason doesn’t know what to do so he holds him tight in his arms. His forearms are soon bleeding, scratched at by nails that are far too long and dirty. It stings but he doesn’t complain, just holding tight.

Babs watch them warily from the couch, tail flickering in concern as Jason begins rocking them back and forth. Thunder clashes and Tim screams again, sobbing harder and shaking his head.

“It’s just thunder,” Jason reassures, rocking them softly. “It just thunder. You’re okay Timmy, you’re with me and Babs. You’re home,” he whispers.

Tim doesn’t seem to hear him but Jason repeats it like a mantra. The storm rages on for another four hours. Tim only slackens into his arms after three.

Neither of them sleep that night.

—

“I’m sorry,” Tim says as daylight flickers in through the glass door of the fire escape.

Jason shakes his head, running a hand through his new raven and greasy locks. “You never have to apologise for being scared. Never. Just remembered you’re safe here, no one will ever hurt you here.”

The boy nods and Jason holds him tighter, both watching as the shadows are chased to the corners of the apartment. Babs craws into Tim’s lap and licks at his chin.

“You’re home.” Jason repeats and this time Tim hears it. He nods.

—

“You still wanna be a vigilante?” Jason asks, flipping an egg.

Tim nods fiercely and strong and Jason sighs in amusement. He plates the egg on some toast and slides it across the bench to Tim.

“I do. I won’t kill, I won’t. Not- not again.” He murmurs and Jason nods, reaching over to ruffle his raven locks before going over to turn off the stove. He bats Babs away from the pan as he does.

“I don’t expect you to,” Jason says and then, “do you have a name?”

“Outlast.”

#tim drake #jason todd #dc #barbara gordon #batfamily #batsiblings #batbrothers #mine #my writing

[gayregis]

angouleme can have little a avuncular guidance. as a treat ... heres some semblance of a compilation of regis being a guardian to angouleme, things i think about . both funnie and sad moments included i think

angouleme sneaks out at night to get into trouble / does other questionable things around the palace nocturnally, regis always catches her and it’s always on accident since they just have very similar time schedules. angouleme stares at him intensely in “oh fuck i just got caught” like O_O for a good 30 seconds EVERY time this happens but regis is just like :| and shrugs saying “i didn’t see anything, i’m a human, i can’t see at night or whatever” and walks off. also the next morning geralt always questions him as to what angouleme was doing, if he saw her when he was coming home, and regis always denies knowledge or says smth along the lines of “i’m not a narc, geralt :/”

angouleme yelling/losing her shit/saying wildly inappropriate things ... regis produces a ye olde granola bar from his bag and gives it to her and she quiets down immediately and is like :) content eating the granola bar. you can also substitute the granola bar with a bag of baby carrots.

similarly angouleme saying crazy shit and geralt telling her to be quiet and asking regis to recount this instead and regis says something incredibly similar/the exact same

that one time that milva was teaching angouleme to shoot and angouleme clear missed the target and got regis instead and actually for the first time was incredibly upset and regretful and guilty that she had inflicted pain and potentially death upon someone and was very worried and apologetic and ashamed ... but also when regis inevitably just plucks out the arrow and hands it back to her and says “oh i think this is yours” angouleme is like wait so he litcherally cant be killed... this is epic

basically angouleme who’s been abandoned having an immortal protector and mentor. peace

as i said in the tags of this post here: regis comes of as so peaceful as an individual that at first angouleme resents him a little, because she associates peace with arrogance... like, oh youre content with your life and dont hate yourself? so you think youre better than me? fucker. and she’s so used to asshole men being creeps in her life that this company still seems really bizarre in the regard that none of these men are dangerous. but then she learns about what ... who ... regis was in the past and she realizes that they’re similar, and then does the math and realizes that maybe one day she’ll also find this inner peace and can stop hating herself so much for the things she’s done and the things that have happened to her. angouleme not feeling as though she's so alone and such a fuckup that only she could ever get into such a mess like this... i feel like she has an unhealthy amount of survivor’s guilt, as in she blames herself for not dying while everyone else in her band did, and she also feels like what the world has given her she deserved because she was a fundamentally bad person from birth bc of her status, and that she will be stuck in this violent hellscape of a life forever and thats just how it is and she has to continue violence... but i think when she meets regis (and also milva) she realizes that violence does not need to be a cycle and change is possible.

also in the tags of that post: i think... regis developing more understanding/empathy and putting ethical philosophy into actual practice where it actually has stakes (haha haha haha stakes haha haha haha haha haha). i think in the hansa he learns what humanity actually means

also bc vampires just... do not parent, it’s not in their culture to, regis learning what guardianship actually means and growing into this position where he protects this child and begins to understand humanity on this deeper level of the feeling of protecting a child, because that’s very human, valuing and protecting the progenity for a new generation is incredibly human

also geralt arguing with regis that “humans don’t regrow their heads” so he can’t just be supporting her doing all sorts of dumb shit just bc he did it and he turned out alright... they kind of have to argue on how to parent i’m saying bc again vampire parenting is not much parenting at all. just let them go wild what’s the worst that could happen... they’ll learn sort of thing. so regis has to confront the idea of human fragility and mortality

i think regis also learns from angouleme in that it’s very easy to hate and loathe your past self and curse your past self, asking “what could i have possibly been thinking, what an idiotic thing to do...” when your past self was not actually devoid of any redeemable qualities and was actually just misguided and without hope... regis condemns his past self quite harshly but because he would never admonish angouleme in such a way i think he realizes that the self-loathing is excessive and unproductive and potentially harmful

i said this in a post already, but geralt is overflowing with fatherly vibes and milva is also stern so i think there is a lot of value in regis to angouleme , in that she can tell him practically anything and he won’t get on her case for it . she finds this kind of amnesty in him whereas with the other members of the hansa they’d freak and start asking her all these questions. regis is just like “hm ok” and maybe discusses a little but doesn’t give her shit for it. this allows angouleme to confide a lot of stuff that she wouldn’t normally feel safe to tell someone else, and also probably gets her out of a lot of trouble bc someone (a very powerful someone) will know where she is and what she’s doing... so if she gets into trouble, she has a lifeline

this also means she can tell him a lot of funnie stories that she doesn’t have to stop herself with because “was gonna say smth funny and then remembered it involved murder.” also regis has like a thousand stories too obviously so he counters her wild tales with smth even crazier and then they’ll try to compete for a bit like “well ONE TIME i...” but angouleme actually always wins and neither knows how she does

surgery lessons, or basically regis was sewing someone up and angouleme invaded the scene going “can i watch can i watch”

also alchemy lessons, which turns into basically “so that’s how you make fisstech... interesting”

i think also in these mentorships regis quizzes her lightly like “and what reactions does this species of plant produce in the human body...?” and angouleme says the right answer, “oh they drop dead” and regis is like “very good!” and angouleme kind of goes insane with happiness a little at being called ‘good’ / being praised by a parental figure for maybe like one of the first times in her life. similarly, i think regis would attest to angouleme’s character at the breakfast table in discussions, and say things like “well our angouleme is very smart” and she’d be like >:3!!!

as in canon, adopting each other’s speech mannerisms... not just regis adopting angouleme’s unique phrases, but i would also like to think abt angouleme saying smth pseudo-philosophical to throw someone off of her tracks... like “so, i owe you money... but what is the concept of debt and ownership, anyways? isn’t it all just a construct by society? by humanity?” and then she bolts and evades her creditors

regis trying to teach angouleme stuff and then being like “oh wait i forgot you can’t fly, hmm... ” “oh wait i forgot you can’t hypnotize people, hmm....... that complicates things...” ... jokes on regis though bc apparently angouleme can scale buildings and talk her way out of a lot of situations, so that’s almost as good as flight and hypnosis

im trying to not be sad rn but i think regis would be a very good person to cry on. like his cloak is very soft. and he smells like herbs. so there you go. but i think also angouleme having a breakdown would be cathartic for both of them because angouleme realizes that she’s being vulnerable around an adult and she isn’t afraid of them and regis realizes that he has a responsibility to not treat physical wounds, but rather to treat emotional ones and that’s infinitely more difficult

i think angouleme would have breakdowns to regis about: her family/her mother, geralt taking her into the hansa but she feels like he probably just sees her as a replacement daughter, i think also she gets into too much trouble one night and regis has to get her out of trouble and she kind of just breaks down because her life is crazy and has always been crazy and there’s no way out because this is all she has

i think angouleme also gets pretty upset at seeing children/teens with “perfect lives,” like she just gets crazy bitter about it... and there’s no shortage of nobility around the palace, so she’s constantly reminded of her background. i think regis’s not-being-a-human-isms and philosophy that stems from an immortal perspective that all humans are equal in life and death can help with this. but also he kind of has to learn that you can’t just talk about smth abt society or the past that is fucked up and solve it by having had said it... it will always remain an issue...

i also think that regis has his ravens scout around for angouleme’s lost pendant with a sea-cat on it, but when she gets it back she gets mad and says that she doesn’t want it because she doesn’t want to be reminded of her mother, regis is like “ok” but angouleme is still mad, she realizes she’s mad because she doesn;t think that regis realizes that he’s actually become more of a guardian to her than her biological mother was, and tries to provoke him but regis is unprovokable ofc so he’s like hm explain that and angouleme just spills her emotions

to bring this back to happy i think they could also prank geralt pretty hard. and or eavesdrop. plus there will be times like where angouleme is waiting by a door trying to listen in and straining and regis stands like 3 feet from the door and hears everything perfectly, just recites it all aloud and she’s like oh this is so much easier. 

also once angouleme was eavesdropping on geralt and dandelion arguing and regis approached and was like “angouleme :/” and angouleme was like >:/ “get out of here i’m tryna eavesdrop” and regis was like “there’s a more professional way to do this” and disappears through the door, angouleme is like “showoff!” ... geralt smells sage and throws a moon dust bomb at him and regis coughs up silver shards for the rest of the day. also when angouleme hears the explosion she jumps in, so this was a failed attempt all around

#angouleme #regis #the witcher #sorry for longpost.........

[husky-boi]

It’s Always Been You ~ Chapter 4

Summary: Husk grew up with the casinos of Vegas, and made his living there. This is the story of how he found the joy in life, and a reminder that sometimes true love transcends worlds

Ships: Huskniss (Husk x Arackniss)

Ao3 Link

...they'll always find a way back together. 

Husk lost track of how long it had been since Angel's family started hanging out at the hotel. In all honesty, he hadn't expected them to be around more than a few days, a week tops. He hadn't expected Charlie to let them stay, considering neither Molly or Arackniss were remotely interested in the concept of redemption. The more energetic of the two spent most of her time running around and introducing herself to everyone that came through the front doors, talking a particular interest in Cherri for who knows what reason. Husk didn't care about that. What he cared about was the short, black spider that insisted on spending every evening taking up a seat at the bar.

Arackniss was rarely talkative, and for the first few weeks, their routine was the same. He would sit down at the bar, Husk would slide him a bottle of something he pointed at (usually red wine, sangria, or just straight vodka), take down at minimum five bottles, and push Husk a stack of cash without asking for the price. It was almost always double the actual cost, but by the time he finished counting it out, Arackniss was gone. And that really pissed him off some days.

His voice sounded so damn familiar, and Husk just couldn't figure out why. It was impossible to try and understand it when the spider didn't talk to anyone besides Angel most of the time. So he had to take some kind of action, that much was obvious.

On this particular night, something had obviously been bothering Niss much more than usual, because he about drank the entire stash of wine, vodka, and a few other types that they had. Husk panicked when he watched the other reach into his pocket as typically to pull out the money, he had to say something now or never.

"Don't bother. S'on the house."

Arackniss immediately froze, glancing up to the bartender and quickly searching his eyes for any sign of a trick. "How much of it was poisoned?"

Husk took a few seconds to process the phrase before scoffing. "None of it, I'd lose my fuckin' job if I did that. Can't I just give a loyal customer a discount without it bein' suspicious?"

Apparently not, because the glare of Niss' golden eyes didn't stop. Not when he took the cash out anyway and put it on the table, not when Husk pushed it back at him, not when he reluctantly took the money back and pocketed it again. Somehow despite the anger, Husk was able to see the pain present in them had faded, if only a small bit. And though it hadn't happened in many years, Husk felt the side of his mouth curl into a smile.

"…thanks." Then Arackniss was gone again, and Husk was once again left alone wondering what the hell happened to his heart for it to start beating this fast.

-----

From that point on, the routine changed slightly. Arackniss was slightly more talkative, and though it was rare he said more than one sentence at a time, it was clear that he wasn't quite as standoffish as before. That's progress, and at least when he was talking Husk could focus on his voice more. Though, by this point, he wasn't sure if he was trying to figure out where he'd heard it from, or if he just liked the sound of Niss' voice. Maybe a bit of both.

"Y'ever had Michter's whiskey?" Husk was given a skeptical look. "I know, it's an American brand, but I swear it's good shit. Kinda expensive, but managed to snag a bottle from the black market demons that sneak it from the surface. So you want some?"

Arackniss was really only fond of brands coming from his home country of Italy, with a preference for those in Rome. Still, it didn't stop him from pushing out a glass for it to be poured. Husk knew him better than that, and knocked it aside, reaching under the counter to pick out a bottle for each of them to drink from directly.

"Best shit I ever had, I swear. Couldn't afford it all that much while I was alive, but the good stuff gets you drink twice as fast as cheap booze. Probably somethin' to do with havin' a good opinion on it swaying your thoughts, I don't know."

By the time Husk finished talking, Niss had already taken the top of the bottle off with his teeth (and damn, that was eye-catching everytime it happened), and he was already about halfway done with it. And still drinking. Fuck, this guy could really hold his liquor.

Only once the bottle was finished did Arackniss give a slight shrug, sitting the bottle down. Another few seconds, and Husk swore he nearly passed out when Niss smiled at him.

"Yeah, not bad… For an' American brand."

Husk couldn't help it; he laughed. He actually laughed, for the first time in who knows how many decades. With his eyes closed and wiping tears from them, he missed the way Niss' fur fluffed up at the sound or how the spider's eyes were on him up until Husk was looking back again.

"S-shit.. Next time show me your favorite, and we'll compare then. How about that?"

"Fair 'nough."

-----

It had to have been at least a few months now, of Husk trying to make enough money during the day to cover the free drinks Arackniss would have that evening, of them talking more each night, topics shifting from the hotel, to its patrons, and finally to each other. Stories of how they were during life, their childhood, their hobbies and jobs. Anything, really, but the subject of tonight's discussion was family. Apparently a sensitive topic for both of them.

"I didn't really have much family growin' up. Started off in the foster system, and no matter how much I ran away from all the fucking pricks, they kept dragging me back. I'm telling you, couldn't wait for the day I turned eighteen and they couldn't hold me there anymore."

Arackniss nodded in response, taking some sips of his bottle of wine. Red, obviously, white wine was an abomination. "Wish I could'a done the same. I mean, siblings weren't too bad, Tony and Molls were just as stuck as I was. But my fathe' was pretty damn shit. For about a dozen reasons."

Silence for a few seconds, it was clear he hadn't planned on elaborating. "How's that, then? What'd he do, kill some fuckers?"

The bottle of red wine was sat down in favor of Arackniss scratching nervously at his wrist. "…yeah, you could say that. Bein' part'a the Italian mafia, s'kinda part of the job." Husk raised an eyebrow at that, but made no move to interrupt otherwise. "Had this big casino we ran as a front for the whole business, real easy to hide how much money you're earnin' when everyone spends thousands a day there. Much as I liked runnin' the bar there or playing the games, woulda been better if all that wasn't the reason for it."

Husk nodded in response, and it seemed for the first time he was actually intently listening to a story. He couldn't really help that, anything with gambling drew his interest. "Actually was kinda raised by casinos, sneaking in the back doors and all that. Made a pretty good fuckin' name in poker and craps for myself back then. That’s pretty much how I made my living for a good for years."

It seemed Niss was still too lost in thought to process those words, so Husk gave a gentle shove to his shoulder. He'd already learned he was allowed to do things like that, they were at least sort of close enough. "Alright, you're overthinkin' shit. Spill."

"…Mafia thing was kinda the shittiest family to be born into. And it ain't just killing people and all that, it's that you're not allowed to trust fuckin' anyone.." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, another gesture that made Husk's heart jump into his throat everytime he saw it. "Already told y'about Harold a while ago, but… There was another guy back then, met 'im at the casino. And fuck, he knew the game, was good at it without explanation. Henry kicked 'im out once he found out we… Talked. Banned 'im from the casino completely. Never got to see 'im again. Sometimes wonder what happened to the fucker…"

Husk took a few seconds to process that story. It sounded really, really fucking familiar. "…wouldn' happen to be the Rose D'Oro Casino in Vegas, would it?"

"Yeah, why'd y'ask?"

Suddenly, that familiar voice made a little bit more sense.

He nearly knocked the wine bottle off the table on accident, scrambling to hold it steady as he reached into his pocket with one hand. With a shaking hand, Husk pulled out a very old and faded black and gold die, with a rose in place of the one, placing inbetween them on the table. Naturally, Niss' eyes widened.

"…I think.. This is yours?"

More silence. Uncomfortable silence as they both just stared at the object on the table. And then Husk felt his bowtie being pulled on and, contrary to the feeling he was about to receive a punch, lips were crashing into his and holy shit fucking Arackniss was kissing him-

Husk swore he blacked out for a few seconds, because when he was coherent enough to know what was going on, the kiss was already over and he was lightheaded with both of them grabbing onto each other's shirts.

"…oh my god, it's fucking you-" It took a monumental amount of effort for Husk to just say that at the moment. He was pretty sure every bit of fur on his body was standing up straight in the air, his ears were pressed flat against his head, and damn his tail was moving happily, wasn't it?

Husk could feel his soul leaving his body as Niss smiled at him, truly and openly smiled. "…it's always been you…"

-----

 Soulmates are connected through time and space.

 Sometimes a distance can grow between the two.

 But no matter how far apart they become…

 …they'll always find a way back together.

 For better or worse

 Through sickness and in health

 Two souls were made for each other

 And when they come together

 All the broken pieces find their other halves

 And they are whole once again

-----

Taglist: @lunar-trash @silver-crowned-king @incorrect-hazbin-quotes @im-not-an-alcaholicokmolly @tophattippin @grape-scapegoat

#huskniss #hazbin hotel #husker #husk #arackniss #original post #fic #fluff #its always been you

[stars-and-rose]

The Sides Become the Roman Protection Squad

ITS ROMANS BIRTHDAY!!MY FAVORITE BOYS BIRTHDAY!!!! DID Y’ALL REALLY THINK I WASN’T GOING TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR HIM???

Fandom: Thomas Sanders/Sanders Sides

Parings: it was meant to be platonic LAMP (because that’s what I’ve been doing for these birthday one-shots) but it can be read as romantic because I cannot control myself

Summary: Patton, Virgil and Logan have been preparing for Romans birthday for an entire month. If only they could find the birthday boy.

Word Count: 2,337

Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, bleeding, mentions of surgery and stitches, mention of needles, Virgil curses out dragon, character is unconscious

 "Patton, will you please stop pacing?"

Patton stopped in his tracks and turned to face Logan, who was leaning against the doorframe with the faintest amount of concern in his eyes. "Sorry, Lo! I'm just a little worried."

"You're more worried than I am," Virgil called from his position on the couch. "Which is saying something. What's going on?"

"Roman still hasn't come down yet!"

"It is his birthday. Knowing Roman, he's catching up on his beauty sleep. Nothing worth you fretting." Logan reasoned.

Patton sighed, plopping down in an armchair. "You're probably right- you usually are."

In the corner of his eyes, Patton noticed Virgil fiddling with his hoodie strings. "Now that Patton's mentioned it, I've felt off all morning. I thought it was the normal anxiety with deadlines and Thomas being social, but maybe it's not."

Logan sighed, pinching his nose. "If it will calm both of your nerves, I will go check on Roman."

Patton flashed the logical side his brightest smile. "If it's not too much of bother, could you?"

Logan gave a short nod, then turned and walked up the stairs. Patton watched him go until he was out of sight. Then, he looked over at Virgil. "Are you okay, Kiddo?"

Virgil nodded, letting go of his hoodie strings. "I'm good. What did you make for Roman's birthday?"

"Red velvet macarons! I've wanted to make macarons for a while now, and I know Roman loves red velvet, I decided to give it a shot! They turned out really nice, and I was able to make a gold paint splatter effect on them too!"

"Roman's gonna love them, Pat," Virgil replied.

Patton grinned. "I sure hope he does! What about you, Virge? What did you make?"

A soft smirk formed on Virgil's face. "I need to have some secrets, Pat. What I will tell you, however, is that I'm surprised my fingers are still in one piece after how many times I stabbed myself with a needle."

As Patton winced at the thought, footsteps echoed down the staircase. Both the moral and anxious sides turned to see Logan coming downstairs. "Is-"

Patton's voice died in his throat when he saw the troubled look on Logan's face. "Roman's not in his room-"

Virgil took a sharp intake of breath. "-then where-"

"-but the door to the imagination was left open."

Patton bounced up from his chair, taking the few steps between him and Virgil and resting a hand on the other's shoulder. "Well, Roman's probably in his domain! I think we should go check on him. Is that okay, Virgil?"

"Yeah. Let's go drag Princey out of his kingdom." Virgil decided, standing and shrugging Patton's hand off his shoulder. Patton glanced at Logan, who's concerned look was growing larger by the second. It was no secret that Virgil got defensive when he was anxious. The sooner they found Roman, the better.

Silently, Patton and Virgil followed Logan up the stairs.  The door to the imagination was next to Roman's room. Golden light peaked from the cracked open wooden door.

Patton pulled open the door and stepped into the golden light. He'd stepped through his door before- they all had. Roman regularly dragged the other sides through his beautiful kingdom.

Or, at least, what was usually beautiful.

Patton's mouth hung open as he studied the scenery. What was usually a crystal blue was a dark storm. What was usually lush green grass and bright flowers was dead grass and thorns. The air, which usually smelled sweet, reeked of death.

"Something's wrong. Something's very wrong." Virgil mumbled, his finger tangled through his hoodie strings.

"The imagination is linked directly to Roman's well-being. Which would mean-"

"Logan, shut up. I don't need to hear that." Virgil snapped.

Patton felt his heartbeat quicken.

"I'm going to kill that prick," Virgil muttered, dark eyes scanning the area. Suddenly, he took off running.

"Virgil!" Patton yelled. "What- where are you going?"

Logan grabbed Patton's arm. "Virgil has the best instincts out of the four of us. If he believes he can find Roman,  I reckon we should follow him."

Patton nodded, and he and Logan chased after Virgil. They raced through the brush, thorns tearing through clothing and heavy breaths escaping from their mouths. They almost crashed into Virgil, who had frozen in a mix of horror and fear.

When Patton saw what Virgil had, he almost vomited.

A dragon stood in the clearing, with voids for eyes and knives for teeth. The monster's scales were a hideous green that clashed with its red claws.

Wait. Its claws weren't naturally red. They were covered in blood.

Roman's blood.

The prince was crumbled in a heap on the ground, his sword inches away from his hand. His white shirt was covered in dark stains, and blood dripped down his cheek and clotted in his hair. His eyes were closed. His chest was barely moving.

Not a single word was uttered between the other three sides- none were needed. They simply burst into action.

Patton ran for Roman's unconscious body, throwing his cardigan behind him to Logan. When he reached the creative side, he bent down and scooped the prince into his arms. Blood splashed against his own shirt, but Patton didn't have the time to care. Roman's breathing was slowing and blood was still spilling. From his position in Patton's arms, Roman's wounds were visible. A gash across his chest and a twin cuts on his cheek and behind his hairline were causing most of the blood loss. Countless other bruises and nicks covered Roman's body.

With the prince's broken body cradled to his chest, Patton brought Roman back to Logan, who had torn Patton's cardigan into strips. As soon Patton laid Roman on the ground, Logan began to press the fabric to his wounds. The gray quickly turned red.

Meanwhile, Virgil had picked up Roman's abandoned sword. The anxious slide wielded the blade with flames in his eyes. "HEY FUCKER!"

The dragon's attention left the prince and the moral side and devoted itself purely to emo. Virgil felt the panic rise in this throat as he stared into the dragon's midnight eyes, but he swallowed it and shouted, "YEAH, I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

The green beast cocked its head in surprise. The dragon had apparently not been prepared for the prince to have backup.

Virgil waved Roman's sword around, surprised with how right it felt in his hand. "Fight or flight," he muttered under his breath and shook away the fear clogging his throat. He was not going to submit to his fear and panic. Roman needed him. So, he tightened his grip on the sword and charged for the dragon.

Patton had just handed Roman over to Logan when he saw Virgil going for the dragon. Not exactly thinking it through, Patton called out, "Hey! Mr. Dragon!"

The beast turned it's attention away from Virgil and stared at Patton. Taking a feet steps away from Logan and the injured prince, Patton yelled, "You know, it's not nice to attack people."

The dragon looked like it was lost in its confusion. It definitely wasn't prepared be lectured for attacking the loud prince.

"It's actually quite rude to try and kill people." Patton continued, crossing his arms. He kept his eyes on the beast but kept checking the corners of his vision for the speck of violet. "There are much more civil ways to handle issues than violence. Which is a bit hypocritical, I guess."

As the Dragon was trying to understand what the moral side had said, a sharp pain stung from its chest. It looked down to see the angry side from earlier pulling the sword from its gut. Virgil glared up at the dragon, his hands shaking and his grip of the now bloody weapon slipping.

Then, because things refused to make any sort of sense in the imagination, the Dragon exploding into golden light, leaving only a pile of ashes behind.

Virgil kicked the remains. "Eat shit."

Patton ran over to Virgil, checking his kiddo for any injuries. Other than a scrap on his knee from a thorn bush, Virgil was in good shape. The anxious side stared at Patton, obviously trying to comprehend what he had just done. "Did I-"

"-just slay the dragon?" Patton finished, a soft smile forming on his face. "You did. You really are our protector, Vee."

Virgil shook his head, hands still quaking a bit. "I am not thinking about that. Nope, not happening. What I'm going to do is chew out Roman for getting himself injured and scaring us and making me fight a god damn dragon."

"I suggest you refrain from chewing Roman out for now. He is in, for lack of a better term, shit shape." Logan called out, the said side held in his arms. "I managed to stop the bleeding, but I believe he needs stitches for the incision on his chest."

"I could probably do it. I sew my clothes, what's the difference between sewing cloth and someone's skin?"

"There are a thousand differences-"

"Sarcasm. But I think I can do it. But let's get him out of here before I panic and lose whatever adrenaline rush I'm on."

The three sides and their injured counterpart made the trek back to the door, the thorns fading into dust behind him and color returning to the sky. As soon as they entered the mind palace, Virgil scurried to his room to grab his supplies. Logan laid Roman, who was still out, on the couch that Virgil had been laying on only hours again.

"Patton, can you get me some fresh towels and some hydrogen peroxide?" Logan asked, removing the scraps of Patton's cardigan from Roman's wounds?

"Hydrogen peroxide?"

"Rubbing alcohol."

"Oh, gotcha Lo!" Patton ran off to the bathroom the four of them shared. He had to push away both Virgil and Roman's make-up bags to find the bottle he was looking for. Grabbing a towel from the cabinet, Patton ran back to Logan, giving the logical side the supplies.

As Logan began to clean Roman's gashes, Virgil appeared from upstairs, holding a black box. "Here starts the beginning and end of my career as a surgeon."

"Are you sure about this, Kiddo?"

         Virgil nodded, only hesitating for a few seconds. "Someone has to help this dumbass. Besides, it gives me something to put my nervous energy into."

        Patton placed a hand on his shoulders. "I'm proud of you, Virge."

        "Thanks, Popstar." Virgil shot Patton a finger gun with his free hand. Logan stood from Roman's side.

         "I finished cleaning his wounds. He's ready for stitches, Virgil, as long as you are."

       As Virgil walked over to the creative side, Logan came closer to Patton. "Would you like to get your macarons from the refrigerator and help me collect other food?"

        "Oh! Sure, Lo! But-"

         "I believe it's in our best interests if we allow Virgil to do this alone. He will only feel pressure if we sit here and observe. Furthermore, I doubt you would feel any delight in watching."

        Patton let out a quiet laugh. "Right as always, Lo."

        The two sides left for the kitchen, Patton pulling out his macarons and Logan searched the cabinets for what seemed to be protein bars. "Roman will need sugar when he awakens. It will help combat the effects of his blood loss."

       "Good thing I made all these macarons!" Patton replied, pulling the cover of his tray. Logan glanced over at the desserts.

       "Those look delectable, Patton. You've truly outdone yourself."

        A bright smile flashed on Patton's features. "Thanks! I wish that we were eating them to celebrate Roman's birthday, not to celebrate that he's not dead."

           Logan let out a humming noise as he set down the box of protein bars on the table. "That is an agreeable statement. Do you have everything you need Patton? I think Virgil will be done by now."

         Patton gripped his tray. "Mmhmm!"

        When they entered the commons, Patton almost let out a squeak of joy. Virgil had finished the impromptu surgery and currently had the creative side laying on the couch with his head in his lap. Virgil's fingers were brushing some of the blood out of Roman's hair.

       Then, Patton heard the myriad of curses coming from Virgil's mouth, and the moment became a bit less sweet. Though, Patton decided that Virgil deserved some cursing after the day.

     Logan sat down on the left of Virgil, handing the anxious side a protein bar. Virgil took the bar gratefully and bit into it. Patton sat on Virgil's right, leaning on the anxious side but adjusting himself so Roman still had room. He reached for the remote, and silently put on Heracles.

       Halfway through "Go the Distance", Patton noticed Roman's eyes slowly opening, confusion written in the brown.

          "Hey, Kiddo," Patton said. Virgil looked down at the side laying his lap, a relieved smile appearing for a few seconds. Logan's shoulders finally relaxed.

       "What- there was the dragon- how?" Roman mumbled.

         "We got you out of there, Princey," Virgil responded, wiping some of the dried blood from Roman's face.

           There were a thousand questions brimming in Patton's mind, but something told him it wasn't the time to ask. Roman looked so vulnerable, not even shying from Virgil's grip or demanding that he was all right. A glance between Logan and Virgil showed they both agreed. Questions were for later.

        Instead, Patton pulled out the macaroons and handed one to Roman. "Happy birthday Ro."

         The creative side blinked. "It's my birthday?"

         "Indeed," Logan said, leaning into Virgil and resting his hand against Roman's side.

         "Yeah, you went and almost died on your birthday,"  Virgil muttered.

         "Let's worry about that later, okay?" Patton replied.

        Roman nodded, taking a bite from the macaron. "These are delightful, Padre. Thank you."

         Patton smiled down at him. "Of course, anything for our prince."

        With Heracles playing the background and macarons being devoured, Patton allowed his smile to remain. Roman was safe, he was happy, and the four sides were going to celebrate the hell out of their prince.

      As soon as they were done cuddling, of course.

#roman sanders #sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #emily writes #platonic calm #hurt/comfort #sanders sides fic #its my favorites birthday! #birthday fluff #fluff then angst then fluff #fluff #angst #happy birthday roman #cursing tw #injury tw #blood tw #stitches tw #needles tw #dragon tw

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

Dusk Till Dawn (Shinsou Hitoshi X Reader) PART 2

PART 1: https://ice-cream-kitsunegirl.tumblr.com/post/186189461464/dusk-till-dawn-shinsou-hitoshi-x-reader-part-1

Taglist: @estherosoro

Summary: You and Shinsou find out what kind of people you’ve been captured by, and you can’t bear to be away from him.

I made these villains, they’re all OC’s made specifically for this series but they may or may not show up in other fanfics if I’m feeling particularly uncreative hehe...

Warnings: Some graphic violence, gore and sexual situations.

Featuring: Our Purple Son!! <3 

Chapter 2: Imprisoned

Neither you or Shinsou had any idea how long it had been since those bastards left you and him inside this empty room to suffer in the freezing cold. Shinsou was sure it had been hours, but it felt so slow with the lack of clock provided and the four walls just staring at you and him. He guessed at least 8 hours at best based on how long it felt and how the temperature seemed to drop.

God you just wished you had a jacket or something because you couldn’t stop shivering and you could tell that Shinsou was pretty bad off too as you watched him quiver in his seat and you could hear his shivering breath. He couldn’t even talk because of that damn gag in his mouth no thanks to those goons…

You had no idea what you and him could do either because you and him didn’t know the layout of this building, or where you even were. There was little opportunity for you both to come up with some kind of escape plan…

But then the door opened and snapped you and Shinsou out of your thoughts as you both slowly picked your heads up to see the same goons from earlier. “C’mon now… Boss wants ya…” You gasped and shook your head as one of the men picked you up and forced you to walk with him as he ignored your pleas.

No, you didn’t want to be away from Shinsou…

It felt selfish, but you didn’t want Shinsou’s visage to leave you because you could NOT be alone and you did not WANT to be left alone. Without Shinsou here, you had no hope and you were relieved that the other men forced him to walk alongside you. You wished he wasn’t here with you, but at the same time… you were glad that he was, because you weren’t sure if you would handle doing this alone…

These men were so rough, so aggressive as they shoved you when it felt like you or Shinsou were walking too slow for their liking. All either of you could do was grunt and reluctantly comply as to avoid provoking them. They were larger than you and Shinsou, the conditions were unfavorable, and you were both trapped in some facility that neither of you knew anything about. Fighting back right now without observation would be the worst thing to do right now. So Shinsou paid attention, analyzing the halls and seeing how dingy and empty they were save for the four men taking you someplace. You didn’t see much light, so you assumed there were little windows as you were pushed again by the guy you spat at.

The two of you eventually found yourselves in a large room where at least 10 more men dressed in red were standing with dark, stoic expressions that terrified you as you also noticed a lavish looking sofa, desk, bed and a TV complete with a bar that was obviously for the boss himself. And there he was, the leader it seemed, his hair white and scraggly in a fashion that reminded you of Shigaraki, only his face was flawless and his grey eyes were as dark as his soul. “Welcome friends.”

Friends? Who the fuck was this guy kidding?

“I want to start by thanking Bozo, Mad Dog and Lothario for their hard work in scouting and finding our new recruits. Not a cakewalk to be picking off students so, well done boys.” The boss said, gesturing to two large men looking really proud of themselves and nodding when the others started clapping. ‘Bozo’ was apparently the man who captured you and Mad Dog was apparently the one whose face you spat in…

Great…

“Welcome new friends. My name is Suchiru Koru.” He moved closer, caressing your cheek with fingers that felt so nasty against your skin, they were boney and warm to the touch as you gave an anxious tremble as he lowly chuckled with a grin. But your eyes widened when he gave more of his vile affection to Shinsou as he stroked his hair, and the latter could feel his stomach churn with such a discomfort he had never felt before.

“Friends…? I don’t… I don’t understand… sir w-why would… y-you need us…?”

It felt stupid to ask, but maybe… appealing to this lunatic might raise your chances of survival. And Koru raised his arms up, “I told ya… I don’t discriminate against people with unique quirks. Especially not for the job I’m trying to do… see… the world is advancing. Quirks are evolving, and thousands of people are trying to create new quirks to breed powerful children… the pro-hero… Endeavor had the right idea. I was a man inspired when I heard the rumors… and then all my hopes came true when that son of his was born…”

Your eyes started to widen when Koru talked about Todoroki. This man wasn’t seriously inspired by your friends’ horror story was he?

“When that story came out, a high demand for people with powerful quirks started to rise on the Black Market and the Dark Web… and I’m not going to lie. I’m not a strong man… I can’t track people down… but that’s why I had to find you. Ms. (L/N) (Y/N) is that right? Your beautiful quirk is extraordinary… Psychic Navigation… oh the ability to perceive things by using your mind and finding people with your mind alone and to be able to communicate with them too…you must have such a beautiful mind…” He sounded so polite it made you sick as you narrowed your eyes when he dared to say your name.

You remained silent as you shakily exhaled a breath, “And then the young Shinsou Hitoshi. The boy with the scary Brainwashing quirk.” Koru looked so marveled that it sickened Shinsou as the man moved closer, tilting his chin as he leaned in with his foul breath that made Shinsou want to vomit. “To speak to someone… and make them do your bidding, forcing them to do anything you could want them to do… now that’s a power…” Koru whispered and kissed the boy’s cheek as he cringed and you could only watch in tearful fear.

If you could, you would take Shinsou away from that man, and make sure this man suffers for a very long time in prison, Hell, anywhere that he would get some kind of retribution for putting his hands on him…

Thankfully Koru moved away to stand back in front of his goons, “We only want to give the people what they want, don’t we boys?!”

“YEAH!”

“They will pay us generously, while we help them create powerful children to make a more powerful world!”

“YEAH!”

“We are the ones making the world great by acting as the givers and bringers of hope! And the ones who will weed out the weaklings and kill them off one by one!”

“YEAH!”

The men started clapping and chanting for their boss as Koru held his hands up, relishing in the cheers from his sycophantic followers as they screamed “Boss Koru! Boss Koru! Boss Koru!”

So that was his plan. He wanted to use you and Shinsou to find people with strong quirks and people with weak quirks, as a means to get the strong ones and kill the ones with weaker quirks. A sickening dread filled your body as you sniffed and couldn’t stop yourself from shedding horrified fears when the men just started screaming loudly as their voices rang in your ears and send violent shivers down your spine and overwhelmed you with fear and dread. Whimpering, you couldn’t see Shinsou looking right at you, he felt so bad for you because of all the classmates he knew, you were the last one he thought deserved to be here.

These men were all psychopaths and he was honestly afraid because by the looks of it, they were somewhere remote and none of these goons had any sense of stability. They screamed, they chanted, the clapped as he could only just look at you as a form of reassurance that he wasn’t the only one in a room full of villains. He wasn’t alone, even though you didn’t deserve to be here, and he knew that, Shinsou was glad that he wasn’t alone…

But after a while, Koru brought his hands down to silence them all. “But we can’t do it alone… and that’s where you both come in… (L/N). Shinsou. Our new brethren.”

Shinsou gave the man a cold glower, how dare he call him and you brethren for such a horrible cause? How dare he call his quirk beautiful because he wanted to use it to control people? And how dare he kidnap him and his innocent classmate for his disgusting goals?

“Little Shinsou… I christen you as ‘Purple Mist’.” He declared to his goons as they nodded, all stating ‘Welcome Purple Mist!’, but Shinsou hated the name. He’d rather die than ever go by that.

“Little (L/N)… I christen you ‘Psy-Fy’.” Really? You thought and almost chuckled when the goons stated ‘Welcome Psy-Fy!’. This guy gave the worst nicknames you had ever heard in your life. You turned to Shinsou with a somewhat amused look on your face, and you were relieved to see him give the tiniest smile as you both thought that this guy was… completely ridiculous that both of you couldn’t help but snicker. At least you both had something to laugh at in this shitty situation.

But then you both got promptly smacked in the face by those fuckers Bozo and Lothario respectively. “Who da ya think yur laughin’ at ya brats?!” Bozo screamed in your face as you looked down, terrified and shaking.

“Go on… laugh again… we’ll see how funny it is then.” Lothario had said, his voice raspier and deeper that suited his lean, lanky figure and scraggly black hair as he grinned directly at you.

“Bozo. Lothario. Take it easy now… let the kids have their fun… and give them some jackets. It’s not easy to take the cold when you’re out and about in Hokkaido.” Koru stated and you nearly gasped in shock when he revealed where you were at.

Hokkaido?!

Shinsou noticed that he was being discreet, if they were in Hokkaido they were in someplace cold for the summer. But this was too cold for a normal summer, so he began assuming that one of these guys must have some kind of weather-related quirk.

You couldn’t really think as Lothario stole you from Bozo to give you a rather thin little coat and draped it around you, “Looks good on ya~.” He chimed into your ear, licking his lips as you shook and held back a gasp. The only thing you were thankful for was the new apparel given to you, but even then it wasn’t very helpful because it only provided you little warmth now.

Bozo was very rough when he put the coat on Shinsou, grabbing his arms and wrists to put it on him and growling at him when he accused your friend of trying to fight him. “Can I please… break this one’s arms?” He was seething, as if he was itching to hurt someone, anyone right now, but you reacted without thinking as you shook your head frantically.

“Don’t! Don’t you touch him!” You shouted, and the large man turned to you sharply, snarling as he raised a hand to back-hand slap you, until Koru suddenly shouted.

“I can’t have her all beaten! It’s rude!” He exclaimed dramatically, and you hated to say that you were relieved because you really didn’t want to get hit again.

However, now you had no idea what to predict now after Koru was done monologuing. “All right… Lothario. Mad Dog. Take Purple Mist and Psy-Fy to their rooms. Bozo, keep an eye on them.” He then gave his men the order, and those bastards lined up and started shoving you and Shinsou out of the room as your eyes went wide as soon as you and him went back into the dirty halls.

“C’mon Purple Mist…” Bozo gripped his shoulder and started roughly leading him into another hallway as you gasped in terror.

“Hey! What are you doing?!” You started to shout again when you saw Shinsou being forced to go somewhere else, somewhere else you couldn’t see him. “Please no! NO! Don’t! D-Don’t you hurt him! I swear to God!”

Your emotions took the reign as you struggled and tried to go to him, but Shinsou looked a bit shocked when you began to fight, he shook his head as he could only grunt through his gag. His shouts muffled as Bozo made him look away and kept taking him to where his ‘room’ would be as you just kept shouting and fighting, at least until the other man ‘Mad Dog’ had to pick you up and carry you to your ‘room’.

“Let go of me! Let me fucking go you prick!!”

Lothario smirked as you kept struggling and fighting, and an irked Mad Dog practically threw you onto the hard floor of your room. You shouted with a pained ‘OOF!’ as you grunted and blinked your eyes when seeing and tasting the disgusting floor beneath you, and a chuckling Lothario picked you up, not before he gave your butt an uninvited rub. A loud gasp left you and you just wanted to smack him in the face and kick him in the groin, but the smiling bastard obviously didn’t let you as he gripped your wrists and tied them in a zip tie.

While Mad Dog forced you into a chair and tied you up as an extra means to make sure you can’t try to struggle out of the restraints. “Don’t try anythin’ ya little brat…” He snarled a little bit as Lothario waved him off, “Easy now don’t frighten the poor thing… I want this one to be nice and well just for me~.”

He was disgusting, his grin made your gut turn as you swallowed hard, refusing to cry anymore tears because of the way this person was looking at you. God you prayed he didn’t have any vile plans for you, but he was looking at you in a way that just greatly disturbed you, and you desperately wished that Izuku or Katsuki were here…

You wished Shinsou were here…

You just hated feeling so helpless and preyed upon, and you hated how this man grabbed your chin and forced you to look into his cold, blackened eyes. “Trainin’ begins in an hour… hope yur prepared… if not… well… Bozo’ll hafta punish ya…” Lothario smiled and shrugged his shoulders, and all you could do was shake in both fear and vexation as the man snickered before he and Mad Dog suddenly left you alone and locked the door.

It looked just like the room you and Shinsou were trapped in, no windows, no vents, just a thin mattress on the floor which was riddled with dust, dirt and cobwebs. Honestly this looked more like a prison cell than anything. You shivered in your chair, thinking about how this was the worst day of your life because you had no idea how long you would be here, and you had no idea if Shinsou would be okay. You wanted to see him, you hated this feeling of being helpless and alone…

Closing your eyes, you prayed to someone, anyone, to keep Shinsou safe and that he doesn’t get hurt…

Meanwhile…

Shinsou grit his teeth onto the gag covering his mouth, unable to quell groans and cries of pain as Bozo relentlessly punched him in his stomach and kidneys. Coughing up blood through his gag as he struggled to breathe with the agony surging through his nerves. When he was punched a third time, he was sent crashing down onto the hard, cold ground of his ‘room’. Disgusting…

This had to be a prison of some sorts, and he started wondering if you and he were the only other prisoners here.

“You… are gonna sit your ass down right here.” But then this ugly brute grabbed him by the back of his shirt and shoved him back in a chair, wrapping the zip tie around his wrists and then tying him to the chair. A familiar discomfort as he resisted to scoff, not wanting to give too much attitude to spare another punch to the face or stomach.

“Get ready for work… ya got an hour to adjust…” He snickered down at the teen who just glared at him with tired, surly eyes much to Bozo’s amusement before he shut the door and locked it.

Shinsou’s body hurt, he thought his training with Aizawa was painful, but this was completely different. To be honest he was terrified, not just for what these assholes planned on doing to him, but to you too. “Shit…!” He swore through the gag still in his mouth, shifting in his chair as he tried to loosen these fucking wires by moving, but to no avail. Shinsou couldn’t even break free of the zip tie that restrained his wrists. It was hopeless.

Huffing and grunting, he shut his eyes and mentally cursed himself for being so useless. Why couldn’t he have just been born with a real quirk that could help? And not one that had so much drawbacks that kept him from actually helping people? Now he was trapped in this goddamn fortress, whatever the fuck it was…

And he couldn’t do a damn thing to help you. That was the worst part…

He just hoped that you were okay, and that he would see you again soon. Although he knew he would be forced out in an hour, but he didn’t want to imagine what sort of things awaited you and him.

#shinsou hitoshi #bnha #bnha shinsou #boku no hero academia #Shinsō Hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #mha #mha imagines #mha imagine #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #mha x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia angst #my hero academia imagine #boku no hero academia imagine #bnha hitoshi #hitoshi x reader #mha shinsou #mha shinso hitoshi

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Time to Waste 6

Good Omens

A/n: smut warning 

Link to Chapter 5 

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader and Crowley x Aziraphale 

_________

“So are you going to tell us what’s wrong or should we start guessing?”

Crowley asked. It was astounding to you that he hadn’t put two and two together. Both Gabriel and Aziraphale were watching you closely.  Aziraphale’s eyes widened. 

“Y/n…”

You  took a breath. This was getting to be ridiculous! All three of these celestial beings would soon put together what was going on! It wasn’t like you would be able to hide THIS before long! 

“Fine. Before someone suggests doing charades because that would be disturbing….IMHAVINGABABY.”

You said it so fast that Gabriel, Aziraphale, and Crowley all looked at each other.

“Sorry?”

Aziraphale replied.  You sighed.

“Fine! I’m pregnant.” 

You stood in awkward silence as Gabriel, Crowley, and Aziraphale blinked. Crowley was the first to react. He literally jumped on the couch and was pointing between Gabriel and yourself.

“You told me that he was stopping that! YOU! You big stupid archangel…”

“Watch it.”

Gabriel snapped. Crowley didn’t care what Gabriel had to say. At the moment, the archangel was lucky that Aziraphale was sitting between them! 

“Y/n, you said that you had the sex talk!”

You crossed your arms over your chest. 

“I did have the sex talk! Can we stop worrying about the sex talk? We have bigger problems.”

“Yes, we do.” 

Gabriel said coldly and stood up. 

“Y/n, we need to talk. Privately.” 

You didn’t want to be in a room alone with Gabriel but he was probably right. The two of you did need to talk alone. You would have to deal with Crowly and Aziraphale later. Maybe it was best for Aziraphale to calm Crowley down. 

“Fine, let’s go upstairs.”

Crowley glared up. 

“Don’t get her more pregnant.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley with an open mouth.

“I don’t think that is possible. Once that the egg has been…”

Crowley slammed his hands over his ears. 

“Don’t wanna hear it!”

You turned and walked out of the room with Gabriel on your heels like a giant puppy.

Gabriel closed the bedroom door behind you. The last time that he had been in this room, he had been between your legs. Now he was finding out that he was going to be a father. 

“Y/n, we really need to talk. Are you sure that you are pregnant?”

You looked at Gabriel trying to determine if he was being serious or if he was trying to be a smart elect. 

“You tell me.” 

Gabriel reached out, his eyes not moving from yours, as he put a hand on your stomach. If possible his face seemed to go pale. 

“I don’t understand this is possible.” 

You put a hand over your face.

“Gabriel it all started when you put your cock inside of me…”

The expression on Gabriel’s face made you want to laugh. 

“Stop being a spoiled little brat! You don’t realize how serious any of this is, do you?”

 You nodded.

“Of course, I realize! We are creating some new creature! I wonder if we get to name it?”

Gabriel walked to your bed and sat down. With all of the shit that was going on you were worried about naming the creature. 

“Maybe you should worry about other things?”  

All of the feelings that you had felt over the past few weeks hit you like a Mack truck! The feelings of loss, abandonment, and betrayal came back hard! You wrapped the oversized cardigan sweater that you were wearing around you again. 

“None of this will matter to you in a few hours anyway.” 

Gabriel looked up. 

“You don’t know anything about me.” 

You nodded.

“I know that I never should have trusted you.” 

Gabriel was up and towering over you. 

“Everything you heard that night was a lie.” 

You backed against the wall. 

“What?”

Gabriel ran a hand through his normally neat hair.  

“At first, I was with you to figure you out. That as before I fell in love with you.” 

You pressed your lips together. If this was some messed up game, you would throw the archangel out the window!

“If you are messing with me, I swear to god…you are probably just saying this shit to go back to heaven and…”

“I can’t go back.”

Gabriel interrupted you. The expression on his face went from his normal arrogant self assured to a lost lonely expression that you had never seen before. 

“What do you mean that you can’t go back.”

You questioned. Gabriel held a hand up. 

“Exactly what I said. I can’t go back.”

“Do you mean that you were kicked out?” 

Gabriel put his hands over his face.

“That is exactly what I mean. Michael found out that I was actually in love with you. That is what makes all of this worse. We, you and I both sweetheart, are number one on their list.”

“And I’m pregnant…”

You managed to squeak out. Gabriel nodded. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Gabriel had you in his arms before you were able to fight back. You pressed your face into his chest as he put his chin on your forehead. The demon in you wanted to fight back but at the same time, the other part of you didn’t. It was nice being back in his arms! 

“Gabriel, what the hell are we going to do?”

He was silent for a moment. Gabriel wasn’t for sure what to say. This was the last thing that he expected to ever happen to him. He was an archangel. Archangel’s don’t have children! 

Hell, Gabriel didn’t even like humans!  You were the only human that he found remotely tolerable (and you weren’t even fully human). The only thing that he ever expected the two of you to “raise” together was maybe a houseplant. Gabriel didn’t even see the houseplant making it long. One of you would forget to take care of it and it would die. 

What was Gabriel going to do with a pregnant half-demon/half-human girlfriend? He was going to be working on fucking eggshells until the brat was born and probably for some time after. The last thing that he wanted to think about was changing the kid. That was just gross! Maybe Aziraphale could come into handy there. He would be a good nanny! 

“I’ll figure something out. Just stay in the house. If you go out, I’m going with you.”

You winced. Oh, this was going to be exciting! You were going from being alone to having your archangel boyfriend (if he was even that) shoved up your ass 24/7. 

“Great, so I am going to have you following me around like some kind of moving prison bracelet?” 

“Do you want to die?”

You mumbled a few curse words under your breath. Gabriel raised an eyebrow. 

“You are going to have to clean up your language before the baby is born.” 

Gabriel smiled at the scowl on your face. That was pure demon. Something about it though was beyond adorable. Gabriel wanted to smack himself at the overly corny crap going through his mind. You would probably tell him to fuck off with his corny shit….or would you? You seemed to be enjoying every caress that he seemed to be giving you. There was also the fact that you hadn’t moved to be away from his body. 

“You are a fine one to talk Mr. I’m the archangel fucking Gabriel. By the way that sounds a bit wrong. Maybe I should teach you how to use the word fuck properly.” 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. 

“I could fuck you against that wall.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

You said with a sly grin as Gabriel sat down on the little sofa. He reached up quickly and pulled you onto his lap. His mouth was on yours in an instant. The kiss seemed almost desperate. Under all of the sarcasm and negativity that the two of you possessed there was the desperation to not lose the other again. If you needed a sign that Gabriel was in love with you this was a good one. You didn’t need him to say those three words (or did you). 

“So did you have fun at that wedding with those annoying humans? Especially that Jamie human?” 

Gabriel finally asked when he was able to pry himself away from you. Ah, it came out! He was jealous! It took all that you had to not call him out on it! You never expected to see Gabriel of all people jealous! 

“You don’t have anything to worry about with Jamie. He’s a pussy. No need to be jealous.” 

Gabriel smirked. 

“See this is what I mean by you cleaning up your language. I am not jealous. I don’t know the meaning of that anyway.”

“You’re so arrogant.” 

You muttered.  It was going to be interesting as hell having a baby with this mother fucker. 

“I’m going to go ahead and warn you, if having his kid hurts as bad as the bitches on TV lets on...I’m cursing you.” 

Gabriel chuckled. 

“Women have been doing this for thousands of years. Your body will know what to do. You aren’t that special.” 

Well, that was a nice thing to say, you thought before remembering who you were talking too. 

“Well, congratulations, daddy, because you will be the first man in the history of the world to feel every labor pain that the mother of your child will feel.” 

Gabriel was clearly startled by your comment. 

“I didn’t mean it the way that it sounded! You’re half-demon, your body is strong enough to endure this.” 

“That still sounded no better.” 

You snapped before gasping as his index finger stroked down your clit. When exactly did he miracle away your clothing. 

“Hey you just got me naked. Who said we were going to have sex?”

Gabriel looked like the rug had been pulled out from underneath him. 

“I thought that we were good!”

You undid each button of his dress shirt in a slow agonizing manner. 

“I was only joking. Lighten up. I want you too.” 

Looking a little more relieved, Gabriel snapped away the remainder of his clothing. He turned you so that your legs were on both sides of his body. 

“I think we are going to have to learn how to talk to each other without getting too…”

“Asshole like?”

You suggested. Gabriel nodded. That was good enough for him. The two of you had no bedside manner at points. Gabriel had a sneaking suspicion that he hadn’t seen the worst of your “demonic” personality. Something told him that as the pregnancy progressed, your sweet side may totally vanish. 

“Works for me. Now, where were we?” 

Meanwhile, downstairs….

Crowley sat with his face in his hands. He didn’t know what to say! There was not one sarcastic, meaningful, or decent thing that he could say. He couldn’t look up at Aziraphale. The look in his lover’s eyes was too much at the moment. Crowley knew that Aziraphale was worried but at the moment he couldn’t handle it! 

Crowley was in too much devastation and confusion. You promised him that you were being careful with Gabriel. Obviously, you were just saying shit to keep Crowley quiet or you really had no idea about protection! 

Now you were screwed. Crowley muttered a bunch of swear words under his breath! His daughter was in a whole heap of trouble and he didn’t know what to do! 

“Some dad I am.”

Crowley muttered before getting up to find some booze. Aziraphale pressed his lips together.

“Crowley, you are blaming yourself for something that you can’t control! We can keep Y/n safe! I mean, we did stop the apocalypse after all.”

Crowley ran a hand through his hair. 

“It's different this time.”

Crowley turned and walked out of the house without another word. He needed some air and time alone. 

You lay underneath Gabriel as he continued to lazily thrust into you. He held himself up on one arm to keep as much weight off of you as possible.  

“I’ve missed you.” 

Gabriel groaned before pushing himself further inside you. You moaned against his mouth. 

“Going sappy on me?”

You said, smugly. Gabriel held himself up on his arms and looked down at you. Going sappy wasn’t something that he ever planned. Gazing down at your nude body, he couldn’t help that Michael was right. Gabriel had fallen in love with you! You were a crafty vixen of a woman and totally had the archangel exactly where you wanted him. 

“I have missed you even though you  are the most stubborn brattiest woman that I have ever laid eyes on.”

Ah, there it was! That exchange of power that the two of you shared so well! You smiled before pushing the archangel off of you. Gabriel didn’t object when you quickly took your place over him. You took his cock from tip to base causing Gabriel’s body to shiver. 

“And you are the most arrogant bossiest asshole that I have ever met.” 

Gabriel snapping his hips made your eyes roll back into your head. He smiled, pleased that he still obviously had power over you. 

You sat motionless on top of the archangel as he rocked his hips into you. Gabriel knew that he had you exactly where he wanted you. Your snarky sarcastic side was on autopilot. For the moment, you were putty in his hands. 

“I don’t want you sneaking off.” 

Your body clenched around his cock. Gabriel winced and rolled you to your side before pulling your body back against his. He lifted your leg over his hip and resumed the painfully slow pace. 

“I need to keep you safe...I need to keep our child safe.” 

It seemed so out of character to hear Gabriel be actually caring. Hearing him say those words alone made your heart swoon. You mentally laughed at yourself. Had this been three weeks ago, you probably would have told Gabriel to go fuck himself. Now here he was being so uncharacteristically caring that you craved more! 

“Stay with me, Y/n.” 

Gabriel’s hand tightened around your throat. 

“Say that you are mine.”

He said in a mocking tone. Your eyes snapped open. Here Gabriel was playing his old games. Maybe it was time to indulge him?

“I’m yours, Gabriel.” 

You felt the archangel smile against your shoulder.

“Good girl.”

He said before gently biting down on your neck to suck a deep bruise into your skin. You knew that there was no need to worry about hiding Gabriel’s “love bites” from Crowley any longer. Soon enough the proof of your lovemaking with Gabriel wouldn’t be able to be hidden any longer. 

You didn’t want to let your mind begin to worry about the baby on the way but you couldn’t help it. What were the two of you going to do? Neither of you knew what to do with a baby? Gabriel certainly had no idea how to be a father. If he had any idea how to handle a baby; you would be surprised! You, yourself, had no idea how to be a mother! Your own mother was no pristine example of what a mother should be. 

Sure, Gabriel had a point. Your body would know what to do when it came to giving birth. What about after that though? What would happen when the kid was screaming at three am and neither Gabriel nor yourself knew what to do? Would the two of you just stand there awkwardly looking at each other? Would the two of you draw straws on who would attempt to comfort the kid? 

The better question was what was going to happen when heaven started? You didn’t doubt your abilities or Gabriel’s ability to keep you safe. The negative thoughts in your mind said, “how can one archangel and one half breed demon keep the forces of heaven and hell back?” 

Gabriel’s finger pressing down on your clit tore you from your thoughts. 

“Focus, darling.” 

Gabriel said before biting down on your shoulder again. He didn’t feel like stopping in the middle of sex to try to comfort your worries. Everything would be fine! Gabriel knew it!  

The next few days were tense. Crowley still wasn’t talking to anyone. You assumed that the news of your pregnancy was world-shattering to him. The two of you would have to talk at some point. 

Aziraphale was as kind as always. He was asking you at least 50 times a day if there was anything that you needed. Gabriel was just as bad. The archangel was hovering over your shoulder.   

If he wasn’t watching every single thing that you were doing then he was dragging you back to bed. Whether it was the knowledge that you were having his baby or the fact that you were doing everything that you wanted; Gabriel was all over you. Gabriel was back to that large awkward puppy that was eager to show his love no matter how annoying that he could be.

You stood at the sink one morning trying to think of ways to get through to Crowley. Earlier that day you tried to win him over with a new house plant. Crowley sat staring right ahead. After you lost your temper and shattered the thing at his feet, Crowley finally looked up.

“Better be getting back to your boyfriend.” 

Gabriel’s arms wrapping around you instantly pulled you from your thoughts. His lips were on your bare shoulder as he gently bit down. 

“Gabriel.”

His hand had slid up your thigh. 

“I would hope that it was me. If some other man was touching you like this then we would have a problem.” 

Gabriel quickly turned you in his arms and lifted you onto the counter. At the moment, all he wanted was to bury himself as deep inside of you as possible. Gabriel had been keeping secrets of his own. From the time that he was kicked out of heaven, his grace seemed to be totally out of whack! Gabriel had yet to admit this to you or anyone else for that matter. 

The last thing that he wanted was for you to think that he was weak. What kind of sick cosmic joke could that be? Whatever the hell it was needed to be fixed! 

You, meanwhile, were busy trying to get his dress shirt unbuttoned as quickly as possible. I am as bad as he is, you thought. Call it pregnancy hormones or whatever it was, you were as eager to have Gabriel inside of you. It was surprising to the two of you that the arguing seemed to be not happening as often!  

“And this is how you will typically find them.” 

The sound of Crowley’s voice made the two of you freeze. You turned your attention to the doorway where Crowley stood with Beelzebub. Gabriel lifted you off of the counter but kept your body against his. 

Beelzebub looked less than thrilled as well. 

“Y/n. Gabriel. How surprising.”

You slowly stepped away from Gabriel but knew not to go too far.

“Beelzebub. Long time no see.” 

The prince of hell’s dark eyes rolled from your face down to you still flat stomach. Their eyes widened immediately. 

“You weren’t kidding.” 

Crowley frowned. 

“Why would I joke about something like that!” 

Your attention immediately went to your father. 

“You called them?”

Crowley sighed. 

“Yes. I think we need to build some kind of team-up here. Especially with that….child on the way.” 

Beelzebub’s attention had not diverted from your face. 

“Y/n, you and I need to talk...alone.”

“I don’t think so.”

Gabriel said coldly. Beelzebub’s attention turned back to Gabriel. 

“I am not going to harm her. She is a very special girl. Y/n, if you please…”

You turned your attention back to Gabriel. 

“It will be fine. I’ll be in the next room.” 

______

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________

#Good Omens #Good Omens fan fiction #gabriel x reader #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #Aziraphale #Crowley #Gabriel #Michael #Beezlebub #Good Omens reader insert

[7deadlycinderellas]

If the summer of lives could just come again, ch 15

Ao3 link

Over the Wall

Jon would have never believed he would miss Ygritte busting his chops. Ever since they’d reached the cave she had been nearly sedate. If he hadn’t seen her receive her wound, he would think the blow to the head had been much more severe than he had thought.

The cave is safe, and warm enough (but not really warm at all). Jyna manages to get a small fire going at the mouth. Rowan finds them food (as much as that green moss could be considered food). And they all spend a few days recovering from their journey.

The first night, over their meager meal, Gilly sits by his side, feeding her son, and he finally asks her how the all of them ended up with Rowan at all.

“Did anyone tell you about us? Any of the crows?”

Jon shakes his head. He’d overheard a bit about what they called Craster’s Keep, but didn’t really understand what it was.

Gilly takes a deep breath, and launches into her story. About her father’s...peculiarities. The sharp intake of Jon’s breath brings a flush of something over Gilly’s face that he can’t quite identify, but she doesn’t stop her story. She tells him about her most recent pregnancy, and about what Craster would do to her child if he were born a boy.

“I couldn’t let that happen. So when I could stand again, I grabbed him and staggered out into the forest.”

She had hidden, still bleeding and exhausted, for three days. After those three days, she had found one of Rowan’s caves, and found herself face to face with a creature she had only heard of in stories.

“I told her what my father would do to my child. And she took my hand and asked if I was willing to help her. That if I did, it would not only protect my babe, but thousands of others as well.”

She spoke of Rowan leading her back to her home in the dead of night, giving her a poultice of herbs similar to the one they’d used on Jon and Ygritte to use on her father, and helped her wake and lead her sisters from the shack.

It hadn’t been hard, she said. Though none of them had ever had the bravery to flee before, they had all hoped somehow she would make it away.

And with their father in a drugged stupor, all of them had lit fire to the keep. Nearly everything in it was wood, aged and dry. Rowan had provided the spark, from the strange sort of orb she’d conjured, and in the dry wintery wind, it had gone up in seconds.

Her story takes most of the night, but it’s not like theirs much else to do. All they seem to have now is time.

And in that time, Jon finally finds the time to ask Rowan some of the dozens of questions that have spent the past year  

“What is this place?” is the first.

“This cave used to be known as the cave of the three-eyed Raven,”

Jon flinches at the memory of what his sisters had once called Bran. His eyes follow Rowan’s gaze, which lands on a spot on the inside wall that is littered with twisted tree roots.

“It was once the home of the last remaining alive of my people. Now it’s just me, and now it’s just a cave. But it also holds the last bits of our magic and culture. And our last hope.”

Rowan had gazed out the opening of the cave, over the hillside.

“Even the weirwood above is merely one of our wards, the last things to protect this place.”

Her eyes suddenly take on a deep, faraway sadness. It’s like the one Jon once saw on his own sisters’ faces, but heavier, more lasting.

“The last greenseer once led your cousin, Brandon Stark, here, in the hopes of passing on his skill and knowledge, in the hope that it would be enough to stop the rise of the Night King.”

“It wasn’t enough?” Jon asks, with a note of darkness to his voice.

Rowan shakes her head.

“It was never enough. Brandon Stark was a child, ill-prepared. Brynden Rivers was human once, but he hadn’t been human in a long time, and I believe he had truly forgotten what it meant.”

That fits perfectly with the what the girls had said had happened to Bran. They had seemed very disturbed to speak of it.

“Brynden Rivers’ powers gave him an entire view of humanity, of it’s past and present, but sometimes it’s future as well. I don’t feel that all of that was necessary.”

“If you…” Jon cuts himself off, “If you don’t think that needed to happen, then why am I here?” Rowan waits a time before answering.

“As a child of the forest, I have certain abilities that protected me. As the rest of my people died around me, I slunk off and hid. This is just one cave, but the deeper you go, you will find more and more. All of this land, in fact, beyond the wall, is connected. I can cross the frozen landscape without ever seeing the sun. And so, while my people were slaughtered, I hid.”

Her eyes bear witness to her shame. Jon can only imagine, having everyone you knew, everyone you loved, wiped out so wholly. To truly be the last of your race. She should be proud, he muses, to have survived, to still be alive, but it must be so lonely.

“After what happened, I began practicing, stretching what magic I knew I could still use. It’s not much in the grand scheme of things, but I had a few tricks left. So I built a plan, something that I thought might give you all a second chance.

The children of the forest aren’t bound by time like humans. Sometimes we live very long lives, lives that you would call generations. And in my life, I learned to pull the land back with me. So I used that, I pulled it back. I pulled it back far enough that humanity would have a chance.”

“But..but if you just pulled the land back, how come it’s not just you who remembers? Why do my siblings too?”

He won’t call them his cousins. Though they may be what they are, it’s not what they are to him.

“Jon Snow, have you ever pulled a piece of fabric? Have you ever pulled it as far as it would pull? What happens?”

Jon tries to picture her words. He imagines a piece of clothing stretched too long, pulled desperately onto someone it no longer fits.

“It tears.”

Rowan nods.

“What I did took a toll. The magic we have is deeply tied to the land of this world. And bits that are the closest to the old world- such as the swamps you call the Neck, and for that matter, even this cave too- took the brunt, and when I pulled, holes formed. And where there is a hole, things can travel through.”

Jon is silent for a time, trying to wrap his head around her words. While he mostly feels like a gaping fish, he notes that Rowan’s gaze has moved to where Ygritte sits, silently.

“What about her?”

Rowan frowns, her ears drooping.

“Like I said, my magics are not great, and I cannot speak to all of the effects it might have. Perhaps it had something to do with her wound, perhaps it was because she came into contact with where the weirwood stood. Perhaps it was even a side effect of the wards on this place. “

She nods in her Ygritte’s direction when she stirs.

“But if you want to hear her story, I suggest that you ask her.”

Later in the evening, when the fire begins to burn down to embers, Jon takes Rowan’s advice. He sits beside her and offers her a bowl of that awful green moss. She takes it without a word. He doesn’t even have to prompt her.

“You said you would never betray me, and you left. And I swore I would kill you. And I tried, and I couldn’t. We stared at each other, but couldn’t kill each other. So some little fucker came and did it for you.”

Jon silently dwells on her words. She reaches and takes his hand, with surprising tenderness. There’s no mockery in her words.

“If they hadn’t taken us, we’d have gone back to Mance Ryder’s camp, halfway on the way there.”

“We aren’t though,” Jon insists, “We’re here.”

Ygritte raises an eyebrow in Rowan’s direction.

“Has she told you why we’re here?”

“A bit.”

“Has she told you why you?”

Rowan had used words, big words, about Jon. Those words had been on the way here, and have seemed to nearly disappear now that they’ve arrived.

“No, but I’ll ask her. She said we’ll start tomorrow, start with whatever it is she wants to teach me.”

Ygritte rubs her thumb along his hand.

“It better not be because you’re pretty. Because I still saw you first.”

 Winterfell

Autumn has turned starkly cold. The streams in the wolfswood have begun to freeze.

Arya returns home after the start of the year. She returns with many things. Names of wildlings within the walls who seem to have influence over the others (Tormund is among them, she had discovered. While she is sad he won’t recognize her, she knew he was never a kneeler). Names of guards who probably should be reassigned (She’d given them to the warden before leaving, with a few sickening details). And a dozen or more stories of death at the hands of the wights.

And a desperate desire to wear her own face again.

It was strange really, she’d never felt very possessive of her own face. She never thought it was all that great. But after months of wearing the face of a man twice her age who apparently liked to pick fights, she just wants to be Arya Horseface again.

“Did we ever get word from Davos?” she asks anxiously once she’s   greeted, and settled with everyone back at Winterfell. There’s venison for supper, and she gobbles it down. It tastes amazing after weeks of jerky and foraging.

Robb nods solemnly, and Arya is suddenly apprehensive at his answer.

“When he and Osha made it to Castle Black, the mutiny had already tipped off. Jeor Mormont is dead, and Alliser Thorne has taken control. They wouldn’t listen to a word Davos tried to tell them. “

“I sent Una after you left to find them.” Bran interjects, “Davos sent word to his second eldest son, and he set sail North. They’re trying to evacuate those they can south via sea.”

Arya is alarmed.

“The Watch at Eastwatch-by-the-sea patrols the sea looking for wildlings trying to sail south!”

“And Davos was a smuggler.” Robb tells her, “If anyone can evade the sea patrols, it would be him. And besides, Father always said the East Watch was a bit more lax than the others.”

She tells him of the talk she heard from the men and women within the Dreadfort. They’d taken to calling Robb the Young Wolf. And even though they still spat at calling him a king (which he wasn’t, she reminded some of them a few times) they at least seemed accepting that he wanted to stop the dead as much as they did.

“They may not have kings over the wall,” Arya tells him, “But they pick who will lead them, and they feel they know a good leader when they see one.”

“That still feels like a compliment I don’t deserve.”

Arya smiles and shakes her head, “Can you imagine them meeting King Robert?”

There’s laughter all around.

After supper finishes, she leaves to the forge to have a proper reunion with Gendry. Despite Meera’s best efforts, she told Arya he was still skipping meals.

He’s alone, and so when she sees him, obviously the best course of action is to tackle him. He’s off guard enough that she still can. She’s near all grown now, her head reaching his chin, and she doesn’t want him getting cocky.

When his back hits the floor, she rests her elbows on his chest and props herself up on them.

“Miss me?”

His eyes are tender despite the sting of his back hitting the floor. His lazily throws an arm across her back.

“More than you could imagine.”

After a bit, during which she sneaks back to the Great Hall and brings him some proper food, she asks him how everyone else has been holding up.

“Bran’s raven got back from Essos two moons ago. She made it fine, but he can’t navigate the land easily because he doesn’t know it. Him and Jojen keep pouring over books trying to figure it out. “

Arya nods, “I can help him with Braavos, but beyond that I’m no more use.”

“Rickon’s been spending nearly all his time with the wildling children. You’d think he was one.”

“That’s nothing new”

“He did manage to lodge an arrow all the way to the top of one of the ramparts the other day.”

“Oh, I’m almost sad I missed that.”

“Meera and I spent a long time trying to figure out how to get it down, but when everyone left, she just climbed up and pulled it down herself.”

“She doesn’t like climbing in front of Bran, she thinks it makes him feel bad.”

“I also heard Johnna and Willa arguing the other day about which of them gets to steal him.”

Oh, that might be a much bigger problem.

“Don’t they know….”

Gendry nods grimly.

“Right after you left, one of the wildlings working down in town tried to steal one of the kitchen girls. It ended with him with a broken jaw and one of the men who intervened losing a hand. “

At least no one had died. When Arya had left, she had thought that most of the women in Winterfell were cautious of the wildlings because of the stories of their cultural rituals.

“Robb made it terribly clear that we do not steal brides in this land, but I fear the girls might have just assumed that meant we stole husbands instead.”

This was going to be a fun one to undo. Both of the girls like Arya, so she might be able to break it to them.

“Also, you’re mother’s been giving me talking-tos lately. You should go spend some time with her.”

He doesn’t tell her that Lady Catelyn had pretty much tipped him over and shaken him loose as soon as Arya wasn’t near.

She had interrogated him as to near everything; his prospects, his dreams, his name.

“I like my work well enough. I could see spending my life doing it.”

“I understand you’ve learned yourself to be of royal blood, baseborn or not. Haven’t you ever thought of pursuing anything higher?”

Gendry grimaces. His younger self would have wanted nothing more. To have a name, a stake. To have something to offer. To show the world he was more than a bastard.

“I used to, but anymore...I have a skill, a skill I am good at. Your daughter doesn’t need me to have a name, she has one, one she’s terribly proud of. She knows her worth, and I know mine.”

Catelyn had studied his face, and found no dishonesty in his words. She can’t admit it out loud, she even scarcely can to herself, that she’s seeking in Gendry the same ambition she so feared in Jon. But she finds none.

She tries to keep this in mind in the following moons after her younger daughter returns home.

They are going over the paperwork together again.

“Food’s going to be a problem,” Arya comments, “We’ve been setting aside plenty, but with the influx of new people everything’s going to be stretched tight.”

“We may have to import, from the Reach likely, or perhaps Dorne. Your sister’s friendship with Princess Myrcella may curry us some favor.”

It seems ridiculous, Arya thinks, that something as necessary as food stores was put aside as ‘women’s work’.

There’s a bit of silence, before Catelyn asks her daughter.

“I suppose you’re approaching the age at which you married before.”

“Not quite yet, I think I was eighteen by then, I definitely wasn’t any younger than seventeen.”

“Well it is nearly four months passed your fifteenth name day. You were gone then.”

Arya suddenly pays attention to her mother’s tone.

“I had a cloak made for you then, but I can wait to give it to you.”

Arya had a creeping feeling she knows where this conversation is going.

“Mother, that’s redundant. We married properly before, in the Godswood. Ser Davos was there…”

“And no one else was.” Catelyn says, “And despite what you say, people will talk if you don’t follow certain customs...“

As if Arya had ever cared about other people talking, and their customs. Then again,

“...And none of us got to be there the first time.”

Catelyn reaches out and rubs Arya on the shoulders.

“You’re my daughter. I’d like to see you wed.”

She sighs deeply. She can’t fight her on that.

“It doesn’t have to be fancy, it can just be family. We’ll do it before the end of the year, the day of the last harvest feast. “

The last harvest feast hangs over the year. It gets dark earlier and earlier in the day, and on even the clear days the wind howls through the trees. The streams are frozen and the snow heavy, and the woods have gone quiet. Arya and Meera sometimes join the men on their hunting parties, but every time they return to Winterfell more and more empty handed. Winter might as well be already here.

Everyone trains more. Arya had begun insisting that Robb let her practice with her sword with both him and Theon. The dead will not go easy on them. The weapons stock hold grows. More and more wildlings trickle in, and must be accommodated.

At least, she thinks, once her and Gendry are married properly and will actually be expected to share a bed, there will be one more room to go around.

“It won’t be so bad,” Gendry muses when the morning comes, “At least you’ll have proper family here this time.”

“You just say that because you’re glad the Hound isn’t here.”

“Well he did find reason to call me a twat every other sentence.”

‘That doesn’t make you special. He called everyone a twat.”

Arya’s wearing the blue dress Sansa made her all those years ago. It fits like a glove now.

“Sansa’s going to kill me. She was mad enough she missed it the first time.”

And Father too, she thinks.

Everyone else in the household is bustling about with preparations for the harvest feast. The buck the hunters had returned with two days prior is being roasted, and everyone else runs to and fro with other foods, and furniture and all the other necessities, to notice the small group approaching the sept.

Meera’s the one who approaches with her cloak. It’s her old one, too short and worn. It will do for her maiden cloak. Meera’s also wearing the dress Sansa started for her all that time ago.

“Mother finished it? It looks nice.”

Meera fusses with the skirt.

“I guess it was too much to hope it was forgotten. I don’t know how to sit down in it.”

Arya laughs.

“You can kind of tuck it under. Be glad it doesn’t need a petticoat, I still never figured out how to manage those.”

They walk into the sept side by side. Arya pulls at her own sleeves.

“Sansa was so close about my size. I can’t believe it. Yours looks like it fits perfect too.”

“I was basically already grown when we left home. I guess anyway, that’s what people say. I don’t feel grown.”

“Neither do I, “ Arya adds, glancing inside the sept, where the old Septon stands, having arrived from the village that morning. Her siblings and mother have lined up, and Gendry stands at the front. Despite everything, her heart still skips a beat. She’s about to marry, a second time, but inside she still feels like a girl half the time.

The candles are lit, and the seven prayers said, and the seven blessings. Robb removes her cloak, and Gendry wraps her in the new one her mother made, thick and lined with fur.

The septon wraps their hands in the cloth, and they say the words and kiss, and everyone claps.

Five seconds later, Arya asks, “So can we all go eat now?”

Mother has respected her wishes to keep things quiet. The feast goes on as usual. There’s venison and pies and all sorts of food. This will be the last time of true abundance before winter sets in.

Robb teases her at one point over a tray of buttered carrots.

“You’re just happy to have escaped all the ceremony a marriage usually entails.”

“Exactly,” she tells him, “No fuss, no fancy gown, no bedding ceremony for me.”

“You know that once the word gets out, most of the household will assume you’re already with child.”

Arya winces, and says rather forcefully,

“No. I’m not doing that. No children for me, at least until this is all over.”

Her voice thins, at the idea of a babe born during the long night.

“If she’s scared of one of us having a bastard, it’s not going to be me.”

Their interrupted by Gendry standing up, and reaching for her hand.

“Well, it seems I am at least being forced to dance at my wedding,” she tells Robb when Gendry pulls her to her feet.

Bran sits on the edge of the dancefloor, watching everyone. Robb’s being passed around to what must be each woman in the village. Rickon is being pulled on each arm by Johnna and Willa. Even Jojen’s been pulled out, by the kennel master’s youngest daughter.

He was never one much for dancing, but it would be a lie to say he doesn’t feel like he’s missing out. Only mother sits at the head of the high table, alone.

“Not much for dancing myself,” Meera tells him when she approaches, handing him a cup of cider. It warms him, but doesn’t make his head as fuzzy as ale or wine.

“I saw the white raven pass King’s Landing today,” he tells her. Suxn had been returning with a letter from Sansa, “Winter’s weeks away.”

“I guess this will be the last celebration for a while.”

The silence between them is bordering on melancholy. After a long moment, Bran asks her,

“Want to get out of here?”

They end up back in the glass gardens again, though it’s a long walk by the back of the keep. It’s neither the first nor the last time. It’s functioned much like the Godswood in the last life, but Bran lacks the three-eyed-Raven’s resistance to the cold. They both sit on the ground to the front, slowly. Meera mutters softly that her dress is taking up too much space.

“It’s too close,” Meera admits, “I hate the idea of seeing one of those blue eyed fuckers again, but it just keeps getting closer.”

“We’re prepared, as much as we can be. And like I said, they shouldn’t be able to get over the wall yet.”

Meera shrugs, but doesn’t seem all that mollified.

“It’s nice to see Jojen having fun again,” she comments, thinking back to him dancing with the kennel-master’s daughter, “He’s spent too much of his life thinking about it ending.”

“I think all of us spend too much of our lives doing that.”

It’s a clear night, and there’s starlight peeking through the glass.

They were talking, and then they weren’t. They weren’t even touching, and then suddenly, they were kissing. If asked, neither of them would be certain which of them moved first.

Meera’s lips were soft, and she makes a soft laughing noise deep in her throat that goes straight to Bran’s heart. When they part for a moment, it explodes out of her, and he finds it infectious. She rests her forehead on his as they both laugh.

“We’ll be missed if we stay too long,” she says.

“Yes...yes we will,” Bran agrees, his hands finding hers, and then reaching to touch the side of her face.

“But not quite yet?” He asks, and she nods, still giggling.

Winter has come, he thinks, and they must find ways to stay warm.

The white raven comes two days later, to a solemn breakfast table.

And two more days later, the regular raven.

Robb reads the message with a grave face. All the others are frozen, waiting.

“King Robert is dead,” he tells them.

Everyone is silent, in remembrance. Arya’s stomach flip flops. Bran wonders what it will mean for Father and Sansa.

And Catelyn maintains her face, ever the lady.

#game of thrones #A Song of Ice and Fire #time travel fix it #jongritte #gendrya #breera #fic