#(since again any of us could become homeless suddenly any day)

[fertbutt]

forever sick and tired of the way tiktok teens and society in general treat homeless people. yes, I'm sorry the man thats been violently rejected from society and denied his human dignity was rude to you that one time, but jesus christ please just have an ounce of empathy. homeless folks are, surprise, actual people, with personalities and preferences and dietary restrictions. homless people are allowed to not like certain foods. their control over their lives has literally been stripped away from them, atleast give them the choice of what they eat. all of the comments on this post are people fantasizing about harassing a disenfranchised person because he was mean. just because a homeless person wont play into your weird savior fantasy doesnt mean theyre undeserving of food or money or even just basic decency. always remember that we are all just a couple bad days away from being just like them, on the streets with literally nowhere safe to stay, being judged by well-off white women masquerading as progressive activists and expecting you to act like theyre mother theresa.

[thelittlewriter]

Closing Wounds

Pairing : Shigaraki x Reader

Previous Part

You were mindlessly staring at your empty fridge. You needed to do something about it tomorrow. You walked to your bedroom and stared at the ceiling. It had been more than a year since the incident. Since Tomura Shigaraki, a man that wasn't really your friend or even someone you knew killed two people in front of you. Since that day, you never saw him again. But you heard about him. Apparently, he wasn't just a homeless young man society wronged. He was a sadist. You heard from some people you treated that attacking and killing people was his nature. And you couldn't deny it. You saw it. You could still remember his mischievous smile. It had haunted every single one of your nights. You had been having nightmares ever since. Curiously, never once had you dreamed about him killing you. It was like he could never. But you knew it was possible. You just couldn't imagine him doing this to you.

You sighed as you went to lie down on your bed. You stopped your side job soon after the incident. People sometimes came by but you never opened the door. You stopped because it was too dangerous. You could have died that day. Instead, you had to clean up two people's ashes.

You suddenly heard a knock on your front door. You hadn't in a month. You sat up and looked through the peephole. You didn't recognize them. It was a young girl and a man. It felt like you had seen them somewhere but definitely not here. You rolled your eyes, ready to ignore them when you heard :

"Are you sure Tomura said it was here ?"

You froze. You haven't heard of him in a year. Never saw anyone who personally knew him. Until now, it seemed. You opened the door.

"Who are you ?" you asked.

"Tomura said you were his friend."

It didn't answer your question but you still let them in.

"Do you have cake ?" the man asked.

He looked nice but you frowned. How did he know you used to make cake ?

You shook your head.

"He said you were a doctor who didn't ask questions," the young girl said.

She was smiling at you and it scared you a little. But you couldn't hide your bitterness.

"If Tomura was still around, he'd know I'm not a doctor anymore and I'm gonna ask one question."

The girl's smile grew wider. For a moment, you hesitated. You knew he was trouble. You knew you were better off without him. But just because he wasn't around didn't mean you weren't bounded to him. He was all you could think about.

"Where is Tomura ?"

"We can take you to him," the young girl said.

You froze, surprised. You had thought about seeing him again for so long.

"You can ?" you asked.

She nodded like it was nothing. She had no idea how important it was to you. You looked at the young girl's shoulder. It was a deep cut but it wasn't too bad. She wasn't a bad kid, you thought. You wondered what led her to be on that side. Once you fixed her shoulder, she made you follow her into a small alley. The kind you wouldn't go willingly if it wasn't for him. You were getting into the villains' side. She opened a back door.

"You're back," you heard once you got in.

The voice took your breath away. His voice. It had been a year since you heard it and it was a little bit different from what you remembered but the way you felt was the same. He looked up and his eyes finally met yours. None of you spoke for a moment. You just took a look at his face. He looked tired. His hair seemed longer.

"Hi," you finally said.

He hummed, still staring at you. You guessed he didn't suddenly become talkative since the last time you met.

"Why are you here ?" he asked you.

"I'm here for you."

His face didn't show any emotion. He wasn't curious about you, he wasn't happy to see you. Maybe you were the only one.

"I thought I'd say you need a friend, so I'd be here for you, but you already have friends. Then I figured I'd say you need a doctor, but Himiko said you already have one. So I have no other reason to be here other than you."

He sighed.

"Then you should leave."

He turned around. He couldn't look at you. Not when he tried his best to forget about you.

"I won't," he heard you say.

He clenched his fists. He was always angry. At the world, at the system, and now at you too.

"I don't want to go."

He hated you for being so naive. He couldn't stop his anger from overflowing when he turned towards you. You jumped from how sudden his movements were and that made him even angrier. He walked to you and put his fingers around your neck. Four out of five.

"I'm one finger away to kill you."

He stared at you. The look you had on your face was different from the last time. Still, you remained different from him, innocent. You were still scared.

"I know you won't kill me."

"But you're still scared."

You didn't answer and he let you go. You didn't stop looking at him like you were scared he would disappear. He couldn't help thinking he didn't deserve this.

"That's why you have no reason to be here," he said.

You slowly raised your arm and touched his cheek. He didn't flinch like the last time. He didn't move at all. It had been a while since anybody touched him so... affectionately. He couldn't even tell when was the last time it happened. He closed his eyes. It felt warm, different from anything he had felt before.

It was something he could never have. All he had known was hate and destruction, and that was all he had been set to know.

"Can't I be here just because I want to be with you ?" you asked.

He opened his eyes and met yours, who seemed to be begging to accept you.

"And then what ? Are you gonna be a villain too ?"

You frowned. You didn't think this far. You had all the time in the world and you didn't think about what would happen next.

"What about your studies ? And your family ?"

The reality hit you.

"And your friends ?" he added. "Your life ?"

The two of you were from two different worlds. You wouldn't be able to be in those two worlds, you would have to choose. You had to leave everything and everybody you knew behind. Forever.

For him.

"What if I drop it all ?" you asked.

Your voice was smaller than usual. He smiled. It was different from the one you saw that day. He looked innocent. For the first time, it looked like the two of you were part of the same world. You could see in his eyes that he too, wondered how it would have been if you had met under different circumstances. If you didn't open the door that day.

"I won't let you."

His smile disappeared and his eyes grew cold.

"That's why you need to go home, Y/N."

Your vision got blurry. You didn't want to cry in front of him. You had been waiting to see him. Wondering how he was, where he was. He was doing well, as well as a villain could do. He had people around him, people like him, people who could understand him.

"If I do," you said. "Will you come to visit from time to time ?"

He didn't move. He didn't answer. You sighed. You never thought you would see him again, so even if it was one last time, you were happy to see he was ok. You turned around to leave the room.

"Maybe I will," you heard him say.

You smiled as you walked away. It wasn't totally over yet.

[rayeim0gen]

My doctors are well aware of my meth use. I didn’t hold back with my reasoning.

My life went completely to shit in the past 4 years to the point where my failing mental health lead me to ending up homeless and losing everything but what I could carry.

I showed up at the hospital a few times, begging for help, unmedicated, and got dismissed and/or treated like a criminal without ever getting help.

At one point I was living in a trap house for a few weeks. I came “home” one day to find my room cleared out of anything of value I had left. Something snapped in my brain, and I’m told I was found by the police walking on the freeway.

That’s the time I was told “getting in isn’t an option for you. There’s nothing the ward can do for you anyways”.

I went back to the trap house. There was a half dozen or so people sitting in the living room passing a meth pipe around.

I had nothing left to live for.

I sat down in the circle, and as the pipe made its way to me, I figured “fuck it” and took a hit.

I felt pure euphoria.

I no longer had any desire to kill myself.

My problems became irrelevant.

Where have you been all my life?

I stayed in the trap house a couple more weeks, and would partake whenever invited to.

I managed to secure stable, safe housing, and spent the first few weeks detoxing and withdrawing hard. But I made it. Without help from the healthcare system.

I met my now girlfriend a month and a half later, and life has been on the upswing since. She’s amazing.

I finally got help back in January of this year, after a particularly bad episode and attempt, but only because my girlfriend and a close friend refused to let them turn me away.

Since then I’ve had a chance to reflect on how truly fucked up everything I experienced at the hands of the health authority actually was.

I’ve gotten noticeably cold and bitter in the past few months.

PTSD attacks the second my mind starts to wander.

I’ve been struggling to stay focused at work, and have been taking advantage of the slow season at work and cutting out whenever I have the chance.

My cheque this week is pathetic.

I was clean almost a year.

Till May Long Weekend this year.

I hate long weekends.

Wow! An extra day to sit around and be reminded of everything and everyone I cared about that cut ties with me because, as one person put it:

>“if you were actually trying to get help, you would have gotten it by now. You need to stop lying to the doctors and those who care about you”.

I started to spiral BAD mentally.

I became actively suicidal.

But this time was different.

I was craving meth.

Then I realized that the last time I was that low was when I was living in the trap house, and the euphoria it gave me.

It took a bit of work, but I got my hands on some.

I felt pure euphoria.

I no longer had any desire to kill myself.

My problems became irrelevant.

(Yes, I copypasta’d that part).

I lived to see the sun come up.

Mission successful.

So I made a promise to myself.

It can’t become a regular thing, but I know that when I start craving meth, I know I’m starting to get bad again.

I have no intentions of humiliating myself in the ER begging for help again.

Can’t rely on the healthcare system.

The mere thought of setting foot in that ER ever again only serves to accelerate the spiralling.

So what can I rely on?

Yup.

Technically it’s less harmful than eating a shotgun or stepping in front of a bus.

Less dramatic and drastic too.

And a good chance I’ll live to see the sun rise.

I’ve had a few more of those nights since then.

Not proud of myself, and I know it can’t be a long term solution, but I’m still alive, aren’t I?

I’ve made it perfectly clear to my doctors that it’s going to take a lot of work with medication and therapy before the ptsd gets to a more manageable level where I’ll be willing to give up Meth.

The healthcare system doesn’t get to ignore my cries for help as long as it did while my life burned to the ground and I lost everything I cared about to suddenly get to shame me for struggling with drugs and alcohol.

When and if I want help, I’ll ask.

But don’t you fucking dare look down your nose at me for the negative coping mechanisms I may have picked up because of the healthcare systems’ own negligence and outright refusal to lift a finger to help me.

[bu1410]

Good afternoon TUMBLR - March 23th - 2024

''Mr. Plant has owed me a shoe since July 5, 1971."

January 1998 - October 1999 - NLNG - TSKJ Port Harcourt Project (Nigeria).

Part 5.

Mr. Ottani The SAIPEM protocol, as already mentioned, prohibited expatriates from driving vehicles in Nigerian territory: the consequences of a possible road accident involving locals were too dangerous. However, there were some of us who sporadically broke this rule. On one of these occasions Mr. Ottani risked his life, and he was saved thanks just by chance. So Ottani- alone (another infringement of procedures) was traveling along a secondary road between Port Harcourt and Obi Obi, when within villages that stood along the road, a little girl suddenly crossed the road. Fortunately, with a twist of the steering wheel, Ottani managed to avoid impact with the little girl, who was only grazed by the Toyota's bumper. But the guy had now lost control of the vehicle, which ended up in the road's side drainage canal and overturned. This fact sparked the ire of the villagers, who, seeing the Toyota in the ditch, immediately rushed over, not to help Ottani, but to punish him for the accident he caused. Someone started shouting ''Oibo…Oibo…'' (A White…A White) and immediately someone else brought a can of petrol, doused the Toyota with fuel with our colleague half unconscious inside, and set it on fire! But Ottani's time had not yet come: a police patrol was passing by, and immediately intervened, pulling the poor guyi out of the jeep, which in the meantime had caught fire. Then he was made to get into the police van, which set off at full speed for the nearest hospital. The fact that it was the Police who had intervened did not keep either the ''white'' or the members of the patrol themselves safe. Ottani was treated at the Port Harcourt Emergency Department for minor burns to his arms and face, and never drove again for the remainder of his stay in Nigeria.

FOOTBALL IN NIGERIA At that time, the Nigerian national football championship had been suspended until further notice years before my arrival in Port Harcourt. Violence with numerous deaths and injuries had become the norm duirng matches. The local team – the Port Harcourt Sharks – had been disbanded. The Port Harcourt stadium, capable of hosting up to 35,000 spectators, had been stormed by homeless people and transformed into a ''condominium''. They told me that in 1998 around 25,000 people lived in this ''once stadium'' whose conditions were terrible to look at: railings and temporary block walls had been installed under the stands, to transform the structure into ''apartments''. These facts did not prevent Nigeria from hosting the African Under-21 football championship, and a new stadium was built on the outskirts of the city, where the final match would take place. The Nigeria team had made a triumphant march through the qualifying rounds, and on the Saturday night of the final against Ghana, there was euphoria and electricity in the air. And it was precisely the one that was missing when the match was in the twenty-fifth minute of the first half, with the local team leading 1-0. The generators that provided power for the lighting system went out, and the stadium was plunged into darkness. At the moment there was an ''Ooohhhh'', then the wait began - in vain - for the generators to start up again. In the end, the organizers, using torches, explained that the fault could not be resolved in the short term, and arranged to meet the public the following day at 3.30 pm. Strange but true, the crowd left the stadium without causing any incidents. The next day the match took place regularly - in the light of the incandescent sun - and Nigeria won the cup over Ghana 2-1.

NEAPOLITAN MATERIAL EXPERT TSKJ project Management demanded that SAIPEM to bring an expert from Europe to certify the materials we were using in the project. Now, as often happens in SAIPEM projects, for inscrutable reasons (he must have been a ''friend'' of someone) a Neapolitan University Professor was brought in - the guy was already over sixty y.o. at the time. ''The Professor'' turned out to be a real pain in the ass, and a disaster for the project. He was paid by day, and therefore managed to extend his initial one-week stay to three weeks. He was staying at the Presidential Hotel and no one had bothered to explain him the particular ''social conditions of Nigeria''. The morning after his arrival , we picked him up to take him to the site: he was furious!!!

Last night - after dinner - taking advantage of the cool evening I said to myself: why not take a digestive walk around the hotel? I SHOULD HAD NEVER DONE THIS!!!

Well Professor, what happened?

An incredible thing!!! I was robbed!!

Excuse me Professor, being you a Neapolitan, do you come to Nigeria and get robbed?

Yessss…and not only robbed!! I was attacked by a group of women…well.women, you understand wht I mean! they are walking here in the hotel's street ……they groped me, pushed me into the bush, and took away all my belongings, wallet, watch, chain, even my glasses. look they robbed me!!!

Well, we're really sorry about this, Professor….

Now I don't speak a word of English, but with your help I want to go to the police and report the matter!

Mmm…Professor'… first of all this news that you don't speak English is not a good new - and then going to the police…here in Nigeria…for a theft perpetrated by prostitutes……is not a good idea….

So what do we do?

Forget it, Professor…and from tonight don't go out of the hotel as soon as it starts to get dark!

The Professor's stay in Port Harcourt and then Soku was not easy at all. And it was peppered with small incidents and big misunderstandings. Finally, after three weeks of ''passion'', we managed to get the Client to accept the Professor's reports on the materials. But U' Professo' wanted to create problems until the end, and although we advised against it, he bought about twenty leather covers for cushions and puffs at a local market. Aside from the horrible smell, when checking in for boarding at the airport custom police confiscated all of them. He screamed like an eagle (he didn't understand that it was just an attempt to extract money from him) but it was of no use, and he left Nigeria without the wrappings.

BLONDE DUTCHMAN WEARING WHITE COSTUME It was Saturday evening at the Cheers club and Attuati and I met a Dutchman from Shell, who had just arrived from Holland. He was obviously blond, and dressed all in white, jacket, trousers, shoes. We drank a couple of drinks together, the guy was part of SHELL, our Client, so we had to treat him well. Around midnight we left the club, our trusty driver Akooya was waiting for us, sleeping in his usual position: lying on the hood of the Toyota! On the way back to the Guest House, in the dark night of Port Harcourt (public lighting didn't exist) suddenly the car's headlights framed something white that was moving: it was the Dutchman!! We ordered Akooya to stop immediately and called the Dutchman:

Where are you going? Are you crazy to walk alone at night in Port Harcourt?

Why so? - he said - what's the problem? I'm going back to compound, it's not that far.....

You're asking what's the problem? Come inside the car and I'll explain it to you. … After he got into the car, we explained to him that a white man alone on the streets of Port Harcourt is formally ''a dead man walking'' - at best, if he had not met us, he would have been robbed of everything he had. he had on him, including clothes and shoes. We saw him again after some time at the club, and he never stopped thanking us and offering drinks:

Now that I've been living here for some time - he said - I understood the danger I going though that night! Thanks guys for saving my life!

MR. DIKSMANN Mr. Dicksmann was SHELL's Project Director and formally our ''Big Boss''. The typical blond Dutchman, about 2 meters tall, bearing a ''Haineken paunch'', a very lovable man. On the occasion of the pipeline welding completion, Mr. Diksmann organized a party at the chalet where he lived, inside the cozy compound SHELL had built in the 1980s. The Dutch Company had spared no expense in building the residential village: once you entered the gate you might think you had been catapulted into one of those Dutch villages all white chalets, tulip beds, waterfalls, pubs and cinemas included. Mr. Dicksmann's chalet was no exception: large enough to accommodate a family of four plus servants, it was equipped with a large terrace and swimming pool, all in complete privacy. The perfectly organized evening was attended by around fifty people: Americans, English, Dutch, and six Italians including, in addition to myself, the Top Management of SAIPEM. On the terrace overlooking the swimming pool, a buffet had been prepared with all sorts of goodies: grilled meats, grilled fish, all types of appetizers, ice containers with wines, champagne and beer. We entered the chalet, and we noticed that it was splendid, no one could have imagined that homes like that existed in a place like Port Harcourt. In the large illuminated living room, beautiful paintings on the walls, flowered sofas and even a splendid white grand piano were on display. Strategically placed on the piano, inside beautiful silver frames, the photos of the Dicksmann family: two beautiful children with almost white blond bob hair – in another photo Mrs. Dicksmann was smiling from what could have been a Amsterdam bridge. To the right of the piano, lying on one of the white leather sofas, barefoot, dressed in a dress undoubtedly imported from Europe, Mr. Dicksmann's official black s**t was sipping champagne from a flute. The attentive waiters, were not hesitate to refill her glass each and every moment. At that sight, the members of SAIPEM's Top Management passed words in each other's ears, like ''But… did you see? Did you see her? That's incredible insn'it? .......etc''. They had seen something that could never, ever have happened at a party of the ''puritan SAIPEM''. A Company that maintained (and I believe still does despite privacy laws) internal dossiers on the behavior of all its employees, and whose careers were also influenced by the news and gossip that other employees never missed to report to HR office in Milan. The discriminating factor for employees, and especially aspiring managers, was the classification into ''individual who go out for dinner and clubbing '' or ''individual who does not ''.

[neopronouns-in-action]

Neopronouns in Action #046: 046

Neopronouns: Hero/heros/heroself which follow the same rules as it/its/itself.

Replace it with hero

Replace its with heros

Replace itself with heroself

EX:

"It is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as it gets a fence set up around its yard so the puppy can go outside without it having to walk it. Its uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he's letting it use, since it lost its. It's going to buy toys and train the puppy itself."

Becomes:

"Hero is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as hero gets a fence set up around heros yard so the puppy can go outside without hero having to walk it. Heros uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he's letting hero use, since hero lost heros. Hero's going to buy toys and train the puppy heroself."

Other neopronouns in this short story:

X/Xself

vi/vir/virself

=====

it's 1am and this has taken like over a week to write because we're in the middle of moving so it has not been 100% proofread. Let me know if you find typos please, lol...

=====

The sky had been threatening a storm for over an hour, and, quite suddenly, it made good on that threat.

One moment, all Alpaen had to contend with was the wind, and the cold it bore with it. The next, the rain was coming sheeting down, sweeping visibly up the street like a malevolent spirit.

It struck hero all at once, slamming in to soak heros hair and clothes within moments of the downpour. Then the rain conspired with the wind to shock what felt like every last drop of warmth from heros bones.

Huddled into heroself as best as hero could, the stone below hero did nothing to help, its surface as cold as ice, sapping more warmth out of heroes legs even through the fabric of heros thick, fluffy pajama pants.

Alpaen had nowhere to go. No shelter to turn to. Hero had no friends, no one hero could trust. The abandoned buildings were once again being patrolled by cops to scare off the homeless, a category that now included hero, but now this time, there was nothing hero could do about it. Hero couldn't even help heroself, let alone anyone else.

It would be at least three more days until heros powers came back, and that was only if hero not only took Verdict at vir word, but also trusted that vi knew what vi was talking about in the first place.

And why, exactly, did Verdict have any idea how Ferros' experiments worked, anyways? Since when did vi want anything to do with X? The last time hero had checked, just two weeks ago, Verdict had been trying to kill X. Desperately.

But then, maybe hero wasn't the first mutant Ferros had captured this month.

Maybe Verdict had had a very good reason for wanting to kill X, with so little regard for vir own safety that vi'd almost died from vir injuries trying to fight through what had seemed like an endless flood of Ferros' avatars. With vir mutation, it was hard to tell what was happening under all those spikes and fur.

Maybe hero could take vir word for it that, three days from now, hero'd be able to shapeshift at will again, and leave behind not only all the things hero hated about the body hero'd had to deal with since puberty, but all the new things hero wanted to stop being reminded of every time hero looked at heroself.

Alpaen had been able to bear the unwanted changes from puberty while hero knew that as soon as the school bell rang, as soon as heros mom left the house, as soon as hero could lock heros door and know she wouldn't come beating it down demanding to be let in...hero could simply change heros body into the one hero desperately wanted.

It had been bearable, as long as hero knew that it wouldn't last. Hero had always had that reprieve to cling to, that relief.

But now that was gone, and so many worse things had swept in to take its place, and the only hope hero had left to cling to that hero would ever get it back was the word of a self-styled Villain.

There hadn't been any way to hide the fact that Alpaen'd been missing for five days. Even if heros mom had, by some miracle, not noticed heros absence, Springs Mill had. You couldn't just miss five days of school without anyone noticing.

Heros mom had called the police and reported hero missing, the first night. The cops of course had done nothing.

For the first few seconds after she walked in the door to their apartment to see Alpaen slumped on the couch, tiredly eating barely thawed frozen pancakes, for just a few seconds, maybe even a dozen heartbeats, she'd been relieved, through her shock. Overjoyed to see hero.

But then her brain had caught up to what her eyes were seeing.

--If you could project yourself back in time and stand invisibly in the room, you could actually watch and see the exact moment she took in the glowing green lines tracing over heros exposed skin, and the unmistakable metal knobs still protruding from heros arms and legs. The number stamped in bright white on the back of heroes left hand.

If you pulled aside any random kid on the street and asked them what all these details, combined with a sudden disappearance, meant, they'd be able to tell you, without a moment of hesitation: You were looking at a mutant who'd been captured, experimented on, and then released by Ferros.

And that would have fine, her knowing that hero was a mutant, knowing that hero'd been captured and tortured. She was very vocally pro mutant. Her older sister had been a mutant. She would probably have hired the best therapist money could buy if it was just that her child was a mutant. And if that therapist didn't help she'd hire another one.

The problem was not heros mother finding out hero was a mutant. It wasn't that her child was going to need her help and support to recover from this ordeal.

No.

That wasn't the problem.

The problem was the realization that hero, her child, was Changeling, the city-designated villain who was openly trans and nonbinary lesbian, only answering to the ironic pronouns of hero/heros/heroself.

Changeling, who had brazenly robbed her company's CEO on live television in his own home, and had, along with dozens of other city-designated villains, declared outright war on the police and the city-designated heroes who were on their side.

She could forgive the assault and robbery of her CEO. She didn't really like him anyways, he was a misogynist and was always making lewd jokes. She could even forgive the fighting with the cops. She had a love-hate relationship with the government, where she thought it was simultaneously too big when it wanted her to pay taxes so poor kids could eat lunch at school, but also not big enough when she wanted refugees to be hunted down and shoved back over the borders.

She could twist her paradoxical ideas about the police – too strong when they were giving her a speeding ticket in a school zone, too weak when they hadn't rounded up all the homeless people in the city and tossed them in jail yet – into a shape that let her convince herself that her child was only fighting them to stand up against injustices like speeding tickets and other traffic violations, things she cared about, and not that hero'd been fighting to defend the very same 'degenerates and predators' she wanted removed from the city streets. The homeless, the poor, the Queer, the people of color, the disabled...

No, she did not have a problem with hero fighting the cops.

But everyone knew that Changeling had been captured by Ferros. Several villain-cams had caught the altercation on film, and it had been shared through her favorite Neighborhood Watch groups.

Changeling going missing, and her child going missing, could have been just a coincidence. But that was when she thought her child was a normal human, not a mutant.

She'd have had no problem if Alpaen was just a mutant. But hero wasn't. Hero was Changeling, the most flagrantly and proudly Queer villain on their side of the city.

And that she could not condone.

She had gone on a rant, raging and screaming so loudly that if their neighbors hadn't both been at work, the ovlume would have brought the police to their door.

Just because Alpaen (But she didn't say Alpaen, even though hero'd just told her heros chosen name, she deadnamed hero, and put stress on every pronoun to drive the hatred in like a knife between the ribs) was a mutant didn't mean hero wasn't the gender hero'd been assigned at birth. The words themselves were nothing but complimentary, but the voice was filled with scathing rage and hatred.

Heros body changing shape did not mean hero wasn't still the gender hero'd been assigned at birth. Just because heros body could changed didn't mean heros spirit was changing too.

Alpaen tried the best hero could to explain, that hero had always felt this way, even before hero'd developed the power to shapeshift, even before hero'd had the words “trans” and “nonbinary” to describe what hero was feeling.

But Alpaen's mom thought that hero was calling heroself nonbinary just because hero was a shapeshifter.

She didn't understand, nor did she care, that even in a world where no one had superpowers, where no one could change their shape except through surgery, even in a world where magic didn't exist, even in a universe where hero wasn't a shapeshifter or even a mutant, hero would still be nonbinary. Would still be transgender. Would still want to change heros body to match what hero felt it should look like in heros guts.

She had the cause and effect backwards. She thought hero was nonbinary because hero was a shapeshifter.

She didn't understand that if hero weren't nonbinary, the only shapeshifting hero would be doing would be hiding heros identity and for fighting.

If hero weren't nonbinary, hero would just be changing the color of heros hair and tweaking heros voice and changing up the structure of heros facial bones and height, just enough that no one would recognize hero, even without heros amphibisona. Or just the more extreme things like growing wings when hero needed to fly, or squeezing through thin cracks under doors.

Alpaen had figured out hero was nonbinary long before hero manifested the mutation that let hero shapeshift. But no amount of begging or pleading or crying had let hero convince heros mom of any of that. Hero'd wanted to shout at her, but she'd just shouted hero down every time, all but literally covering her ears for what hero had to say.

Hero'd been kicked out without any chance to grab any of heros things.

All hero had now were the clothes on heros back, and that didn't amount to much – just heros favorite, worn out hoodie, and fluffy pajama pants. Both had leopard pattern spots, in slightly different shades of brown and yellow, since they were from different brands and bought years apart. Hero'd owned the hoodie so long, and worn it so often, that the elbows were bare threads. It had long since outlived its ability to keep hero worm, but Alpaen hadn't ever been able to work up the heart to throw it away, no matter how many times hero was nagged or made fun of about it by heros mom, teachers, or classmates.

Alpaen hadn't even been allowed to bring heros shoes. Heros mom had just laughed in heros face and told hero that if hero didn't want to go without shoes, then hero should use heros nonbinary freak powers to grow some new ones.

She knew just as well as anyone by this point that mutants who were captured by Ferros couldn't use their powers for several days afterward, if they ever regained the ability to use their powers in the first place.

Some people never got them back.

Hero had only heros socks to keep heros feet warm, and they were already soaked through with rain.

To put it simply: Alpaen was freezing cold, soaking wet, had no friends or family to stay with, hadn't eaten anything in five days except what Verdict had given hero, and the single Pop-Tart hero'd eaten at home before being discovered and kicked out, and to make all these things even worse, the library, where hero'd thought hero'd at least be able to find temporary shelter from the elements, was closed.

Alpaen would only learn this later, but while hero had been locked away in Ferros' lab, there'd been an attempted shooting at the library. The only reason nobody had died was because one of the librarians had secretly been Javelina, and she'd been able to take down the would-be gunman before he could fire on anyone.

Then the police had shown up, and instead of arresting the shooter, decided that Javelina was holding the library hostage, despite all the protests of the regular people inside, Javelina, and even the shooter himself.

The whole horrific event had only ended when Bulldozer and several other as-yet-unnamed city-designated villains surrounded and killed the police, and teleported the victims, including Javelina, away to safety so they could get home, or wherever they needed to go, without having to parade in front of the news cameras.

Hero had noticed, if only subconsciously, that the roads for several blocks leading up to the library were emptied of cars, and no one seemed to be home. The city rulers had decided to react to the incident by arresting, or at least trying to arrest, everyone who'd witnessed it in person, or even just been in the general vicinity. To “prevent the spread of false news designed to invoke distrust in the police”, they said.

If Alpaen's mom hadn't come home right when she did, Alpaen would have been able to see a recap of the story on the news, but fate had it that heros mom had come home and just the right time for hero to miss the memo that the shelter offered by the library was no longer available.

This meant that Alpaen had to spend almost an entire hour sitting alone, cold and miserable beyond words, on the freezing steps of the library in the rain, heros body wracked with sobs as hero finally cried with the tsunami of emotions that had built up over the past week.

This also meant, though, that when the dark red minivan turned the corner at the end of the street and began to approach, the headlights shone on Alpaen, so that when hero looked up, hero had to lift a hand to shield heros eyes from the glare.

And the person inside the car saw the telltale signs of Ferros' mistreatment, glowing neon green even in headlamps, seeming brighter still in its contrast against Alpaen's dark brown skin.

All of the events proceeding these moments meant that when that minivan pulled up in front of the steps leading up to the library, and the door on the side pulled open, Alpaen was sitting there, tired, cold, in pain, drenched, and desperate for any help.

At first hero couldn't see anything inside the car, then someone clicked the overhead light on, and hero was met with a familiar sight – one hero hadn't been expecting.

“You look like you could use some help. Want a lift?” Verdict, in vir full costume and mask, asked, voice pitched to be audible over the pounding of the rain.

Vi was sitting in the middle section of the van, leaning towards the open door across the armrest. Vir usual horns were notably missing – Alpaen could only assume they were too tall to fit in the car without gouging the roof. An unfamiliar person was sitting in the driver's seat, features obscured under a hoodie and lower face mask, staying facing forward, head turning slowly to scan the two empty roads on either side. A large yellow beach towel had been draped over the seat inside the open door.

For a few seconds, Alpaen stared at that open door, and the shelter offered by it. Waves of warmth were fighting their way free through the rain, just barely touching the tip of heros nose before being dashed away by the downpour.

It took a few long heartbeats of sitting, freezing and shivering in the rain, for hero to decide that the reasons to trust Verdict far outweighed the reasons not to.

Verdict had set up camp at Ferros' dumping grounds, and had been the first friendly face hero had seen (or rather, not seen, hidden behind vir draconic mask) since hero'd been kidnapped days before.

Vi had given hero the first food hero'd had since Ferros had grabbed hero. It hadn't been much – a few scrambled eggs and some toast, cooked over vir very own fire in vir camp at the edge of the clearing – but the food, and the compassion and caring literally baked into it, had been enough to ensure that Alpaen could get all the way home, driven there in this very car, without simply collapsing into a singularity of despair.

Alpaen had thought hero could trust heros mom, but she had betrayed hero, cast hero aside like hero was worth nothing.

Hero had never expected to find any ally in Verdict, the self-proclaimed Villain with a capital V.

But vi was the one who had waited for hero to be released, and vi was the one who was here now, offering shelter, and not just from the rain.

Vi had made this offer earlier, when vir mysterious friend had first driven hero home from the woods. If heros secret identity was revealed, if heros family wasn't accepting, or if hero needed help, hero could come to vir. Vi could offer food, clothing, and a place to sleep and spend the day, far enough away from the prying eyes of the cops that if hero didn't want to be found, it would be, not impossible, but more effort than most people would be willing to put in to figure out where hero'd gone.

Probably, vi had said, the only one who would be able to track hero would be Ferros Xself. Vi had been wearing vir full costume then, too, so Alpaen hadn't been able to see if vi had a matching scar on vir upper arm – the glowing purple circle that marked the tracker Ferros placed in each of X victims.

No one had been able to remove them without irreparably damaging themselves, not even those whose mutation gave them the ability to heal at a faster rate. Trying to remove the tracker didn't just damage your arm – it wreaked havoc on your whole nervous system.

And that was if you could muster up the guts to try and get it removed in the first place.

Alpaen had spent the last few hours trying not to think about the tracker embedded in heros arm. Thinking about it for too long, and thinking about removing it, in particular, caused a surge of irrational panic and anxiety in the victim that was impossible to resist.

Hero had gotten a good enough look at heros when Ferros had implanted it, along with the number X had assigned Alpaen. X gave all X victims numbers. No one knew who the first few victims had been. People had only started coming forward after number 008.

Marked directly under the transmitter, glowing burning green against heros dark skin, was the number “046”. Which meant there were at least 45 victims who'd come before hero, and who knew how many who would come after.

Did Verdict have the number 045 marked on vir arm, hidden under that armour?

Hero wasn't going to ask.Vi was still waiting for Alpaen's answer to vir offer of...what was so much more than a ride, still leaning across the seat, vir eyeless mask as impassive as ever. But hero didn't need to be a mind reader to know that vi wanted Alpaen to say yes. Vi wanted to help.

And there weren't any good reasons for hero to say no. Hero had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. Heros mom had disowned hero. The cops would, at best, toss hero in jail for loitering before even asking any questions. All of the official homeless shelters in the city had been shut down or burned down, and the unofficial ones were slowly being pressed out of existence.

Alpaen had to struggle to get to heros feet, the cold numbing heros hands and feet and making heros joints slow and uncooperative. Hero couldn't even feel heros fingers anymore. But hero made it down the stairs, into the van, and into the towel-draped seat without incident. The difference in temperature was immediate, warmth enveloping hero before hero'd even sat down.

Alpaen went to drag the van door shut with one numb hand, only to be met with resistance. But before hero could yank again in frustration, Verdict held out a hand, and said, “Just give it a moment, it's automatic. Pull it again, just a little, and let go. It'll shut on its own.”

Alpaen did as instructed, and watched in bafflement as the car door slowly slid its way shut and securely latched itself.

Hero let heroself fall back against the seat in sudden exhaustion, and tiredly pulled the seatbelt across and clicked it into place.

“We're buckled and ready to go.” Verdict said. The person in the driver's seat nodded, and only then did the car begin to move, pulled away from the stairs and back onto the road, performing a very illegal U-turn to get back the way they'd come. Alpaen didn't think there was anyone in the abandoned houses to notice or care.

Heros hands began to prickle with pins and needles as they regained feeling. Hero knew heros face would soon follow where the wind had bitten at hero's cheeks and nose. Hero hadn't even been allowed to take any of heros covid masks when hero'd been kicked out, a fact that was abruptly beating a dent into heros self-possession.

Homeless, cold, hungry, tired, in pain, and in a car with people without a mask.

“Sorry.” Alpaen managed to bite out, fighting with all heros strength not to start crying again.

Verdict didn't seem to understand what hero was apologizing for, because vi replied, “Don't be, this van has handled a lot worse than some rainwater.” Then vi added, “It'll be about an hour until we get where we're going, and you'll be able to change out of those wet clothes when we get there, but if you're comfortable with it and trust me, I can offer a flame to help dry them now. It won't harm you, it promises not to, but some people are too afraid of fire to get to know it. Would you like to see it now before you make up your mind? You can always change your mind later.”

Heros eyelids were starting to feel heavy, heros bones seeming to want to drag hero down into the core of the Earth as well-earned exhaustion began to take over heros body. But hero was still awake enough to follow what Verdict was saying, and understand what vi was offering.

“I'll take one.” hero said. Hero didn't need any demonstration, hero'd already seen vir flames too many times to count. Hero knew they wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone vi didn't want them to. And if vi wanted to hurt hero, vi had had plenty of opportunities to do it before now that wouldn't ruin the upholstery of vir fancy car with automatic doors.

“Say the word and I'll desummon it immediately.” Verdict instructed, then lifted a hand, fingers pressed together. Vi drew them apart, and a small, round yellow flame drew itself into existence with the movement. It hovered over vir hand for a few seconds, swirling into itself, casting yellow and orange flickering shadows over the walls and ceiling.

Then it began to uncurl itself, growing bigger as it did so, until it was in a form that was unmistakably that of a cat, Verdict's other hand going up to support its back feet.

“Hold your hands out to create a platform, and it can come to you.” Vi said. Alpaen obeyed, mesmerized by the way the flames moved. As hero watched, hero could have sworn that rosettes were visible, flickering at the surface of the fire, each one lasting only a few moments before it was gone.

The touch of the flame's paw on heros hand was not burning hot, the way heros mind had expected it to be despite all heros rationality arguing that it wouldn't hurt. It was not hot enough to burn, but it was warm.

Hero didn't know how to pick up the flame other than hold heros hands flat the way Verdict was, but luckily the flame had ideas of its own, and easily hopped down off heros hands and onto heros lap, where it curled up into a cat-shaped ball.

The flame didn't purr, not like a real cat would have, but it did radiate warmth in every direction, and that was just as welcome. Hero could practically feel the water evaporating out of heros clothes one drop at a time.

Alpaen wasn't consciously aware of closing heros eyes, the only thing hero knew, or cared about at that moment, was that hero was warm, hero was safe, and more than anything else, hero was tired.

Hero slept, and the car drove on in silence into the dark.

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

So... after on and off for months, and the numerous problems cropping up over and over again at this place, mom finally got that familiar feeling.

It started at the 'fire/gas leak' we were evacuated for and has gotten worse since then. She said we overstayed our welcome and that every problem we've had from the staff in the days following, was a sign that they don't want us here anymore.

This has happened before. See...

Whoever is doing the work for the motel has apparently screwed up and is insisting that Dave hasn't paid the bill and that he owes money. Mind you, he worked out a deal to pay every afternoon between 5-6, cuz we can't guarantee that we'd have money before 11 AM to pay for the day. So, he goes to work with that guy he knows, gets $70-$80, and then uses it to pay for the room. That's how it's been going.

Every other week, mom accumulates enough points to pay for 1 night that way so he can take a break on a random Sunday. The points haven't been coming in, in the past 2 weeks when there should be enough by now, and it's because someone up there has been holding off on giving points cuz they claim Dave is behind on a payment(but waited weeks to tell him?). Mom has all confirmation emails though, and forced him to get a receipt every day he pays, which she has all records of.

Mom thinks, like every other time, that we've overstayed our welcome and the staff are trying to get rid of us by all these problems accumulating so quickly over the past couple weeks. This has happened at every other place we've managed to stay at since becoming homeless, so she isn't overreacting or anything. Eventually, they get tired of our presence and of not getting full-price on the rooms and start making up problems and rules we've broken.

Like the last place. The moment the state assistance vanished, we had to begin paying weekly for the single room for all 4 of us. Suddenly, one day, they couldn't let us stay anymore. Suddenly it wasn't allowed for people to stay more than a week at a time, and it had to be 30 days before they could come back and stay another week, but Dave's apparently kept in contact with someone who was staying there the same time and as us and… they weren't kicked out or told anything like that. They are still there and still making weekly payments. It's been 9 months since then.

Randomly this morning, the staff told Dave that every single room is booked all throughout the holiday weekend, so everyone has to be out before 11 AM on Friday. After telling him they'd keep this room and many others reserved(cuz there are several families staying here long-term cuz we're all homeless) for people. Guess what? The rest of them have been here as long as us and they weren't told they have to leave. And they don't have any reservations either soooo...

Bethy is with us again and she's been going stir crazy and she's now calling people she knows who work in hotels around Delaware, trying to get help.

Anyway, it's the weekend closest to the 4th of July and everything everywhere is not only booked but hella expensive af. Bethy never had to sleep in the van with us before, and mom's disabilities cannot physically handle the moving back and forth or sitting in the same place for more than a few hours at a time.

We don't even have money for food. We are subsisting on expired/rotten food gotten from the local food bank.

Yet Dave is over here thinking everything is perfectly okay and he just has to talk to the staff again... They told him they already have the room we're in reserved for a group this weekend and that we can't stay.

I fell asleep last night and the random thought struck me... I wonder how long we'll actually be able to stay here... and I wake up to this news.

Dave just doesn't get how finances work. Because he's so unhelpful and doesn't fucking listen when people speak, he's whining about how after getting paid, mom has nothing left for the month.

"But we don't have to spend $230 on the storage unit anymore!"

"That went into other bills, Dave!"

He thinks that cuz we don't have that one issue holding us down, we're going to be able to handle everything else easily and have money left over for whatever he wants.

Because mom has had to pay one bill and let another slide as a result every month. It's how she's hand to handle our financial problems this entire time.

Mom finally paid off the bank after Dave bounced her account several times last year. She's been paying $100+ a month for ages to get that handled. That should make things a little easier now.

The car insurance has increased by several dozen dollars so it's over $150 a month now.

Her phone and Bethy's phone have to be kept on because of her schooling and we need a functioning phone number or else we'll be in big trouble in many ways. $100+ just for 2 phones. Dave is in charge of his own damn phone.

She has to handle her Discover and Capital One cards since she's had to use them to save our asses a few times. She NEEDS to pay the off so he credit score doesn't tank, and many places won't give you a chance if your credit is low. She's got monthly payments for those around $100+ in total.

The P.O. Box price has increased(we have that handled for the next 3 months thankfully). Almost $50 now.

Dish Network has been on pause or 19 months cuz she can't cancel it before the full year she paid is used up or the fee is astronomical.

Then we have gas for a minivan, that Dave should be paying for, but isn't. A mostly full tank is around $80 every 4-5 days. Gas is average rn. So over $400 monthly in gas.

We need the part for the van which is $800+.

She has to pay for her medication cuz we have shit medical. She's already going without many of them but some health problems, like Asthma, can't be ignored so the inhalers are prioritized.

Amazon Prime and Norton are necessary since free shipping for all necessities, and she needs the protection since she does most business on her laptop.

Bethy needs school supplies regularly. Sometimes clothes and always hygiene stuff.

We need hygiene stuff.

But Dave just thinks that she should have all this extra money left over at the end of paying everything off. Many of these things come out instantly on the 1st of each month btw. She has to the work through what is left for the bills that aren't instantly paid off.

He thinks if he works with his friend for 3 weeks, he'll have enough money for an apartment, completely ignoring that He'd only have about $1800 for a full month of work with no breaks. The cheapest 2-bedroom in Delaware requires almost all of that, which is why we're waiting on housing which charges based on your monthly income. Even if he handled the monthly rent of $1400-$1600 for a 2-bedroom, mom still has all this stuff to worry about... and the Dish payments would start up again, and gas, water, electric, sewage, etc...

Dave doesn't listen. In public housing, those things are included. Outside it, they are separate expenses.

[Ko-Fi] [GoFundMe] [Venmo] CashApp: $Flame818 [Amazon Wishlist]

[faintblueivy]

So Imagine...

A world where Bruce Wayne died as a child in that alley that day, Martha and Thomas Wayne grieve as normal parents. They DO NOT BECOME BATMAN AND JOKER. 

Nothing ever remains the same after losing their little boy. So, Thomas buries himself in his work and Martha drowns herself in depression and pain. They do therapy and it works a little and life becomes bearable but...not happy.

One day, Alfred badgers the couple to go out and relax a little and buys them tickets for a circus - Haly’s circus. Everything was going nice and dandy and Martha was in awe of this little acrobat as much as the rest of the crowd when suddenly the rope snaps and the boy’s parents fall to their deaths - right in front of him and the gathering. Thomas is quick to jump in to see if he could help them in any way but Martha can see it in his eyes that they are as dead as they can be. 

They return to home with heavy hearts and Martha can’t get the image of the little boy out of her head. His skin was a light shade of bronze but his dark hair and bright cerulean blue eyes reminded her so much of Bruce that her heart wouldn’t rest. So a few days later she uses her connections to know if the child is safe and well cared for, when to her immense horror, she is replied that he was shipped to Gotham Juvie due to the lack of foster homes. She is enraged.

She calls Thomas and Alfred and lets them know about the little acrobat’s situation and declares that she was going to adopt him. They hesitate a little but she is not to be deterred as she goes ahead and brings the little boy home. 

Richard John Grayson - Wayne. Or Dick, as he likes to call himself. 

He is adamant that he wants no parents and Martha is fine because not only that she is old enough to be not his mother but also because no child can ever be her Bruce.

“You can just call me Grandma then.” She tells him.

His eyes are wide but he nods and then smiles and Martha, in a long while, has never felt this happy. 

Her new Grandson, despite losing his parents, is a ray of sunshine with unlimited supply of energy and the cold and empty manor is warm and happy again. 

Dick is a little charmer and even after Thomas and Alfred’s initial reluctance, they immediately fall in love with the boy and one day, when Martha comes down to the morning breakfast, she hears a happy, deep rumble - one she has not heard in many years. Thomas is laughing. 

There on the dining table, seated beside Dick, was Thomas laughing. Her eyes water at the scene and Alfred, who is standing beside her offers her a handkerchief. None of them mention how his own eyes are wet too.

 ...

Dick is sixteen, a brilliant boy in academics as much as they disinterest him but an invincible athlete. Martha has been told time and time again that her grandson is undoubtedly a international level gymnast. But he is a teenager.

And teenagers steal their grandparent’s ‘coolest’ car and rush off into the night. But they don’t come back with a little battered and bruised, homeless kid tucked under their arm.

“He had jacked three tires off your car. When I confronted him, he tried to hit me with a tire iron.” He says, amused, as Thomas tries to convince the child to show him his injuries.

“I didn’t do nothin’! He’s a fuckin’ big boob liar!” They boy screams, his blue green eyes glaring daggers at Dick.

“Language.” Both her and Alfred warn simultaneously.

After hours of struggle, interrogation and fuck you’s, Martha learns that the child’s name is Jason. He is twelve. Mother died form drug overdosing and Dad is a petty henchman of some crime lord. He ran away from multiple foster homes because they are so abusive that the child feels safer on streets. 

Martha goes on a rampage over Gotham’s foster care after that. She did not donate millions of dollars annually for children to feel safer on streets. After of lot of talks and reassurances and promises, Martha acquires her second grandchild.

Jason Peter Todd - Wayne. 

Jason is tiny. Malnourished like Leslie said. But he is sharp, observant and hungry for knowledge. Martha and Alfred joke that Jason is Thomas' soul child. Where Dick had loved activity and movement, Jason liked quiet and stability - Martha thinks that running and fighting for survival on streets every single day does that you. So evenings often found her and Dick in the garden but Thomas and Jason in the library pouring over as many books as they can.

And to nobody's surprise, despite their rocky start, the boys become inseparable. They are outwardly different, with clashing interests and behaviors but Martha can see that they both carry the same cores of light.  

When the morning of Dick’s Parent’s death anniversary comes around, both her and Thomas find Jason on Dick’s bed, arms curled protectively around his big brother. For the first time in so many years, Dick wakes up to warmth surrounding him, not nightmares. 

...

Both her grandsons attend Gotham Academy so when she receives a phone call from the Principal, she is half surprised and half not. When she enters the Principal’s office, both her boys are standing on one side, Jason with his head hung in shame and Dick glaring daggers at the other side. The boy who seems to be injured is being coddled by his mother who is shooting nasty glares at her grandchildren periodically. 

Then she notices another small boy standing beside her boys, trying to melt into the wall.

Tim Drake. The only son of Jack and Janet Drake of Drake Industries.    

She arches a questioning eyebrow at Dick who shakes his head and then she turns to the Principal. 

“What happened here?”

“Glad to see you’re here Mrs. Wayne.” The Principal says, pushing his glasses up his nose, “I regret to inform you that your ward Jason Peter Todd attacked this young man here.” He gestures to the other boy. 

“Madam, Gotham Academy is a prestigious school and we do not encourage physical violence here. Yes, it might have been acceptable from where he came from but it won’t be, here. I hope you give us the right to punish Mr. Todd here appropriately.” 

Martha inwardly bristles at the jab at her grandson and says crisply, “Mr. Wayne.”

“What?”

“He’s not just Todd. He is a Wayne. Please remember that.”

“Principal Sir.” Dick cuts in and Martha is confused because as hyperactive as Dick is, he is a mannerly child and knows better than to cut in a conversation like this but what draws her attention is the chilling tone which Dick almost never uses. Dick continues, “Why don’t you tell our grandmother more of your regrets? Or the prestigious Gotham Academy believes that bullying is acceptable.” 

Martha has been told what she needs to know. 

“Jason?” she calls out to her youngest grandson softly, “What happened?”

Jason is quiet when suddenly Tim Drake moves forward. She can see he is scared the way his hands shake but determination shines in his blue eyes. She likes him.

“I want to say something.”

He narrates the tale of how he was being bullied and how the boy on the other side with his mother threw his science project model away and broke it and physically tried to attack him when Jason stepped in to save him. Martha felt nothing but pride at Jason’s righteous indignation. 

Tim also explained that Jason exercised immense control even after these bullies called him ‘street rat’, but the verbal spar intensified after Dick was insulted for his Romani heritage, but it came to fist fight after Thomas and Martha were insulted, and Bruce’s death was made fun of.

Her gaze snaps to the other three occupants of the room and they are all in various shades of pale. Apparently, the Principal had not done his homework.

“Principal” She says icily, “Yes, I give you the authority to punish Jason appropriately but only when this young man here”, she gestures to the boy who was now cowering behind his mother, “Is dealt with in the same way.”

After threatening the Principal in soft words but harsh tone about not tolerating to having her grandsons bullied the next time, she grabs Jason’s hand to drag him away from these people who don’t deserve his company, when her eyes fall on the little trembling Tim. 

She offers him her hand.

He stares at it, shocked but after an encouraging smile from Dick and a small shove from Jason, he takes it shyly.

And since that day, Tim becomes a member of Martha’s family. The boys stay together so much that even Thomas forgets that Tim is not theirs. 

Tim’s upbringing sends Martha’s grandmother instincts on a haywire and she resents the Drakes for their criminal neglect towards Tim. 

It is rewarding that Tim flourishes in their attention. 

She learns that his hobby is Photography and he is excellent at it. And he is a genius when it comes to science, computers and gadgets. He likes crime thrillers movies and books and often picks them apart with his scarily good knowledge about forensics that leave the rest of the family in awe and slightly disturbed. 

The dam breaks when one day Jason and Dick return back from school telling her that Tim was absent today and they are worried about him. When they later sneak into the Drake mansion in the evening, Thomas receives a frantic call from their oldest grandchild that Tim was burning with fever. Because Thomas is a doctor, they save Tim before anything serious happens.

This time, it is Thomas who sues the Drakes for Tim’s custody after him and Jason had, had enough of ‘Timbo’s shitty parents’.

“Timothy?” Martha brushes his sweat soaked forehead gently. “Would you like to be a member of our family legally?"

Tim is hesitant about this but he admits that he likes Wayne manor much better than he ever liked Drake mansion. He confesses that he loves Jason and Dick as brothers and sees Martha, Thomas and Alfred as his grandparents as well.

The long custody battle ends with both Jack and Janet Drake dying at the hands of two different tragedies, leaving Tim an orphan, but also with a loving family consisting of three grandparents and two brothers by his side. 

Timothy Jackson Drake - Wayne is adopted into the Wayne family as her and Thomas’ third grandson.

...

A year after they adopt Tim, Thomas comes home with a small girl on his side. She is clearly an east Asian in heritage with dark hair and dark eyes and is speech deprived. Thomas is clearly distressed after Cassandra - her name is Cassandra - is safely secured in warm bed in a nice room across Jason’s. He calls her, the three boys and Alfred to his study to explain about the small girl. 

He talks about how Gordon brought the girl to him and after hours of wordless, signed and clumsily sketched on paper conversations with the little girl they were able to determine that Cassandra was hiding from her father who was an assassin and wanted to drag the little girl down the same path before she ran away. The more he talks about the damage and abuse the girl had experienced at the hands on her own father, the more furious Martha becomes. When Thomas’ explanations ends, Jason slams a punch into the wall making a dent but no one has the heart to reprimand him for that. 

The following morning, Martha can see that her three boys have unanimously decided that they are adopting Cassandra as their sister. She is treated like a Princess, and given the nick name ‘Cass’. 

Slowly but surely, Cass learns what it means to love through Dick’s bright kindness, Jason’s quiet protection and Tim’s infinite patience. After her father is finally apprehended, the family celebrates.

Cassandra Wayne, soon after, becomes the beloved Wayne Princess of Gotham. 

Martha and Thomas often accompany their only granddaughter to her speech therapy lessons, so after six months of her adoption, at dinner, she places a kiss on everyone’s forehead - her three brothers and three grandparents, stands at the head of the table and croaks out, slowly, “Thank...thank you.” All of them stare at her flabbergasted, but it appears that she was planning to shock them even more.

“You...Love. Love you...”

The silence that follows her broken but sure words is deafening. Surprisingly it is Tim who breaks it as he scrambles out of his chair and launches himself at Cass, wrapping his arms around her and both Jason and Dick follow him, grabbing both their youngest siblings fiercely.

A quiet sob breaks her out of the trance and she smiles when she watches Thomas furiously wiping his tears from the sleeve of his shirt. The last time he     had cried was at Bruce’s funeral. And Martha is infinitely grateful that this time these are happy tears. 

...

Sometimes Martha wonders what would have happened if Bruce had lived. If these children are her grandchildren then does that mean they are Bruce’s kids? Had Bruce lived, would he have accepted these gaggle of kids that her and Thomas have collected over the years as his own? Would he have kids of his own? 

Her questions are answered when one day she hears a slight commotion in the entrance is surprised to see a young woman with a sword threatening Alfred.

“I want to meet the Master of this house. Let them know immediately.” She demands in an authoritative but silky voice, and Martha suddenly sees the Toddler clutched in her arm. 

“What is it?” Martha speaks as soon as she can when the woman notices her. She looks surprised for a second but immediately schools her features as the baby fusses.

“You’re alive.” She whispers and before any of them could make an indignant comment about her wordings, she says, “It appears that I might have traveled in to the wrong universe.”

Now that is interesting. Martha lives in a world where they are protected by aliens...so, it is certainly worth hearing for. 

Martha offers the young lady an invitation for tea which she accepts. She notices how the woman carries herself with lethal grace and dignity as if she was a Princess but much more. As they sit and Alfred leaves to bring the promised team Martha notices how the woman’s eyes sweep over the place. 

“How may I help you?”

Her voice attracts the attention of the toddler and this time, he is not clutched tightly enough to his mother’s chest to turn his small head and look at her. Martha gasps. Because the child looks too much like Toddler Bruce. But instead of the blue eyes like her son, this child has glowing green ones, like his mother. But still, the resemblance is uncanny. 

“Yes, he is your son’s.” The woman answers the unasked question.

She is explained the existence of Multiverse, and it’s workings and how Bruce survived instead of them in that world, met Talia (the woman’s name is Talia Al Ghul) and had a child but had to leave. Talia mentions the reason she came here was because her son’s life was in danger and Talia’s father wanted to raise her son as an assassin Prince and a tool for him to use. Talia’s solution to protect her son was for her to give her son to the Bruce of this world to raise, since the Bruce of that world had gone missing.   

“I can raise him.” Martha suddenly declares and the woman looks at him shocked. “I will not raise him into a life of violence but I can certainly protect him and give him a happy civilian life.”

Talia looks unsure, hesitant, but says, “I...have been a warrior since the day I can remember. Never once have I ever thought of my son not being a warrior. He was...born to be one.” 

Martha smiles. “He doesn’t have to be one. Yes, his life will be infinitely different than the one you imagined but...he will be well loved and protected. I can assure you of that.”

“Damian.” Talia whispers as he deposits the baby in her arms after a lot of consideration. “His name is Damian.”

She looks at her son tenderly one last time and places a kiss on his forehead and Martha’s heart breaks a little for the young mother. 

“Will you return back for him?” Martha asks as she follows the Talia to the door.

“No.” Talia whispers, her voice strained. “I will not. Any action taken by me is monitored by my father closely. If I return back, then he might know that I have left Damian here and I cannot let that happen. He is yours, forever.”

Martha gives her a sad smile. “You’re a brave and good mother Talia. Thank you for doing what is best for your son.”

She nods, not turning to look at Damian one last time as she leaves the manor grounds, never to return. 

Martha looks at the baby secure in her arms and her lips quirk up into a grin at the sight of two curious green eyes watching her with interest. 

“Welcome to the family, little Damian.”

When she introduces the new addition to the family, Thomas is dumbfounded. Dick is ecstatic at the prospect of having a new baby brother, Jason is secretly pleased, Cass is happiest and Tim looks unsure.

That’s how Damian Wayne - Al Ghul joins the family.

Damian fits in their home spectacularly. After few days of hesitation, like he had with Dick, Thomas takes to Damian quickly. He has an epic competition going on with their eldest grandson to become the baby’s favorite. Damian refuses to sleep without Thomas but his tantrums are only controlled and won over by Dick. Damian loves Jason manhandling him and giggles happily when the older boy throws him in the air or swings him around. Damian loves Cassandra because she knows what he wants before any of them do. And Cass loves to carry her little brother around to watch birds and animals in the manor grounds.

The only person Damian seems to not get along with is Tim and the older boy seems not be fond of him either. Because Damian wants everything Tim does and the older brother has to compromise for Damian every time. But Martha has to bite laughs a lot now a days because almost everytime Damian falls asleep, it is with Tim in vicinity. And she has caught the older boy tenderly covering Damian in his favorite blanket more often than not. Martha thinks that this is kind of cute but keeps her opinion to herself. 

Her little grandson is quite protective of his siblings though. Anytime someone upsets any of his siblings, they are threatened with scowls, growls and even bites and stabbings in extreme cases.

Like last time when Mrs. Park made fun of Cassandra’s  speech impairment, Damian almost bit her finger off. Damian hates one of Dick’s racist colleague (they all do) so much that anytime the man enters his field of vision, the first thing Damian gets his hand on is thrown at the guy’s head. With deadly precision. And last time when Mr. Link had called Jason ‘street rat’ for personally volunteering charity work for poor and homeless, Damian had smeared his juice and drool covered hands on the Man’s thousand dollars suit. And when one time, a reporter had infiltrated a Gala and chased Tim around to ask uncomfortable questions about his parent’s death and the Wayne’s involvement in it, Damian, noticing Tim’s distress had stabbed the reporter with a fork with no hesitation. 

Martha is still not sure if she should encourage or reprimand Damian for that.

...

As she sits on the head of the table with Thomas on her side and Alfred on the other end, she wonders how miraculous it is for her to have all these children in her life. 

Dick is engaged in an animated conversation with Stephanie who was introduced to the family as Tim’s girlfriend. Barbara, the daughter of James Gordon and Dick’s girlfirend/or not was helping Cass pile up food on her plate. Damian and Tim were bickering over something as usual but Jason trying to hide his snickers in guise of drinking water which made Martha sure that the something was Jason’s doing.

These people were her family. The ones she had gained after losing Bruce. She wonders, if there was a universe where Bruce got to meet her grandchildren. 

Would he accept them? As family? 

Would he love them? As family? 

She brightly smiles when the multiple sets of eyes turn to her waiting for her to blow the candle.

“Happy Birthday Martha.”

Thomas says warmly, his voice thick with emotion and she meets his gaze and sees the love, affection and thankfulness in his eyes for this family that they had created after their earth shattering loss. She knows what she wants as she blows the candle on the cake flickering in front of her.

I wish for us to be family in every universe.

[curiousfancy]

{Photo from the time of the events}

In the summer of 2015, I had an abortion. I’ve never talked about it until today. But in the light of the most powerful democracy on earth striking down the right to abortion access, I feel it’s important to share my story.

You see, I didn’t actually want to have an abortion. Yet I’m thankful that I did. It was this one fact that kept me from talking about it all these years - I was terrified that the anti-choice brigade would come across my story and twist it to support their punitive, inhumane views. When I found myself staring at a positive pregnancy test on a July afternoon 7 years ago, my heart sank because I knew that there was no possible way I could have a baby at that point.

Living as an unmarried woman without any family support in India is hard enough, but if I added a pregnancy to that mix, I had absolutely no doubt that I’d be made homeless, again. And having been homeless less than two years ago, I was prepared to do anything to not fall into that nightmare again. Moving to the U.K. to be with Owen was also out of the question as we didn’t yet meet the U.K. home office’s draconian list of conditions for me to enter the country. And since we were both dependent on his PhD stipend for support, he couldn’t quite abandon the only steady source of income we had between the two of us to be jobless and homeless with me in India.

There’s this myth prevalent among anti-choice goons that women who want abortions use it as a form of birth control and practically skip to the clinic in glee. That we never even consider alternatives, so bloodthirsty are we for terminating our pregnancies. My experience with my unwanted pregnancy couldn’t be farther from that myth. After considering all possible options and finding that there were none, I decided that an abortion was the only way forward. I’m lucky that I lived in a country with safe, legal abortion access but even then the attitudes I faced were far from exemplary or even helpful.

Of the family I had left, people who had known me since the day I was born suddenly found themselves unable to look me in the eye or speak to me without scorn. The first gynaecologist I saw tried to convince me that if I decided to abort, I would never be able to get pregnant again as I was too fat and too old (this was a month before my 30th birthday.) When I went online to look for information on 1st trimester medical abortions (which is what mine was and the majority of abortions are) I was greeted with a barrage of anti choice websites filled with images of what I later realised were late stage miscarriages and stillbirths. Even now, thinking of the shameless hypocrisy and bad faith contained in those ghoulish sites makes me seethe.

My actual abortion was the easiest part of the entire ordeal. I took my 4 pills of misoprostol, rolled up some massive joints for pain relief, put on some music and danced to relieve my cramps as Owen stayed on a video call with me. After two hours of labour style contractions, I passed a tiny little lump of tissue into my sanitary pad and the pain stopped instantly. It was very much an undifferentiated blob of tissue, about the size of a small chicken nugget with nothing to distinguish it from say, a surgically removed tumour. A far cry from the images of stillborn foetuses with which those anti-abortion websites had tried to scare me. I was just shy of 10 weeks pregnant.

Do I wish I’d had that pregnancy in different circumstances where I could have allowed it to continue to term? The answer is yes, I do. Do I also feel thankful that I had relatively easy access to abortion care that allowed me to live my life on my own terms instead of pitching me back into the nightmare I’d just escaped but this time with a baby in tow? Abortion laws that allowed me to flourish and grow and eventually become pregnant with my daughter 3 years later when I was ready for a child? Also yes. It’s this choice that’s so fucking important and when you take that away, you take away our right to live life on our own terms.

I simply can’t imagine what my life would have looked like now if I’d been forced to continue with my pregnancy in 2015. For one, I wouldn’t be in the secure, content, and fulfilled place I am in now with my daughter who is loved and wanted instead of being resented as the product of a pregnancy that ruined my life. Striking down abortion access not only plunges the person who’s pregnant into suffering and misery, it also creates a whole generation of unwanted children who carry that trauma with them. It’s inhuman. It’s the worst kind of incursion into an individual’s bodily autonomy. No one who supports this has the right to call themselves human anymore. They’re just ghouls who feed on misery and trauma and thrive on the pain of others.

*although I’ve referred to pregnancy in relation to women in the paragraphs above, please take it to mean anyone with the capacity to become pregnant, regardless of gender. Safe and universal abortion access is a human rights issue, and not restricted to any one gender.

[nineteenninety-six]

A Little Bit of Sunshine

↳ Hector x Reader

↳ Word Count: 3.09k

↳ Requested by @shadechu​

A/N: I have never written for Castlevania before but I really enjoyed writing this, it flowed so easily. Hector is probably OOC but who cares lol. 

Anyway, enjoy :D

Hector had moved to a small town after everything had gone down with Lenore. After she died he realised how much damage she caused him, the lasting marks of her abuse and manipulation still scarred his body and mind and he could no longer stay in a place where they had lived and she had died.

The fact that he managed to escape the bond she had on him and that he was able to deceive her was only able to sustain him for a short while before everything fell apart and Hector was no longer able to act as if everything was okay, so he left and started anew.

The new town was on the smaller side but not small to the point where he would stand out. He easily blended into bustling crowds in the town centre and the residents treated him like any other local. For the first time in a long time, he felt normal, as working for Dracula was an experience that words couldn't explain.

He had his own little cabin in the woods where he could be at peace and the distance to the town centre was far but long enough for him to enjoy the sights as he walked past. All in all, he liked this new path of his life, it was almost completely different than it used to be and he expected to miss it but he enjoyed the calmness and serenity of this new path of his life.

On his usual weekly trip to town, someone called out to him, trying to catch his attention. it was a young woman, probably the same age as him and she was calling for his attention, waving him over to her stall.

"Sir! Sir!"

Hector looked up in surprise and as soon as the woman realised she had his attention a bright smile overtook over her face before she eagerly began to wave him over, swinging her arms back and forth over her head, gathering the attention of the other people around them.

Hector quickly shuffled over to them not wanting her to cause an even bigger scene and pull more attention their way.

"You're new aren't you?" Was the first thing out of her mouth.

Hector flinched in shock at her words, not expecting them. No one else knew he was new and that put him on edge.

"Oh don't look so surprised, I just know everyone that comes here."

Hector raises a brow at her words, " ... That's weird. You do realise that right?"

The woman shrugs, "Maybe but it makes for good business. People are more likely to buy something if I remember them from just previously meeting."

Hector realises that he's standing in front of a stall filled with baked goods, "You're a baker?"

"Family business," She clarifies, “I mostly do the selling due to my - "

"Charm?" Hector cuts in with a sarcastic tone.

"Actually, I was going to say my good looks but yes charm too." The woman grins.

Hector couldn't help but bark out a laugh, the woman never missed a beat.

"I'm (Y/N) in case you wanted to know" (Y/N) informed him with a wink.

Hector had to twist his lips so that the smile that so desperately wanted to escape, couldn't.

"Hector" He introduced himself.

"Well Hector, what can I get you? " (Y/N) asked, gesturing to the spread of baked goods in front of her.

Oh, she was smart. Catching his attention, making him come over to his stall and

converse with her in front of everyone and now he could surely not been seen walking away with nothing after taking up her time. While he didn't really care about the local’s opinions about him, he didn't want to be outcasted more than he already was.

"I'll have a loaf and a sweet pie please"

(Y/N) shoots him a bright smile and packs up his items, then collects his money.

"Thank you, Hector. I hope to see you again soon"

"I'll see you again" Hector responded

As he began to walk back home, Hector thought back on how easily (Y/N) made him feel at ease, how he brought a smile to his face and drew laughter from and he got scared.

This is how Lenore got her claws in him, she manipulated and lied to him before tricking him into servitude and he never wanted something like that to ever happen again.

He decided for the health of his mind, he would keep his distance from (Y/N). He couldn't find it in himself to completely ghost her and ignore her so he'll keep cordial. He'll be friendly but he couldn't let himself become close to her.

.•° ✿ °•.

His plan worked well, every time he went up to town he stopped by her stall and bought what ended up being his usual order of a loaf and a sweet pie, engaged in small talk with (Y/N) before leaving and it worked well for weeks until he had a dream about Lenore one night.

A mere dream had knocked him off-kilter. He had awoken a mess and fell out of his bed in his confused and frantic attempt to escape his blankets. He only managed to crawl a few paces before collapsing on the cold floor, his remaining energy only enough to let him roll onto his back. Hector blinked lazily up at the ceiling as everything he had locked away came rushing back. He relived the moment when he fell for her, the moment he realised that she had tricked him, the moment when she realised he betrayed her and then when she had died by her own will.

Everything that had occurred over the last few years played in front of his eyes and he hated every part of it. He could never forgive himself for being so naive and trusting yet he missed those traits of his.

When he 'awoke' again, the sun was moving low, signifying sunset wasn't far away. He pulled himself up and washed his face at the basin before he left his cabin, his feet taking him into town. The town centre was still busy despite the late hour and so was she, the woman who he came to see.

Despite the other stall owners who had either left or were in the process of doing so, her stall was still set up with what remaining items she had left. She was sitting on a stall with a book on her lap in a different world and Hector felt bad about disturbing her but he needed her.

He didn't even have to call her name, as soon as he was a few feet away, she looked up at him with a smile and closed her book shut, though when she got a proper look at him, her smile faltered.

"Hector?" She made her way over to him, brow furrowed in concern, "Is everything okay?"

He must look like a mess. He certainly felt it on the inside and he had been in a trance since he woke up, not paying any attention to his looks.

"I... um, I -" Hector stumbled over his words, his tongue suddenly heavy.

"Why don't you take a seat" (Y/N) guided Hector to her stall and offered him some water from the pouch at her side.

Seeing that he was in no position to talk about what happened, (Y/N) changed the topic slightly, "I thought you were not coming today. I got so used to seeing you, it would be a shame if I did not see you."

"But do not fret, I set aside your usual order for you," She said as she showed him a little wrapped up basket.

Hector nodded, the change in conversation took the pressure off his shoulders and he felt more at ease to speak.

"What do you do with the ones you do not sell? "He asked

"Today these are going to the homeless. I usually alternate between them, the orphanage and poor families"

"That is kind of you. Nobody did anything like that when I was young"

"I think the world is horrible enough with the wars and death and it costs nothing to do a little good within your own community" (Y/N) then looked up at the sky and noticed the changing colours, “Do you want to come with me as I give these out?”

Desperate for more of a distraction, Hector agrees and he helps her clear up her stan before they set off to a different part of town, him carrying the basket of baked goods for the homeless.

“Do you have any family, Hector?” (Y/N) asked.

Hector shook his head, his grey hair swishing around his chin as he did so, “Just me”

“Hm, well if you want any annoying younger siblings, I’ll eagerly give you all of mine”

“Surely they’re not that bad-”

(Y/N) lets out a laugh, “One day I’ll take you to meet them. You’ll regret your words!”

As they walked around, handing the food to the less fortunate, Hector noticed the strange way (Y/N) behaved. Her head constantly twitched one way to the other, as if someone was calling for her attention but she stopped herself before fully turning around to see and her eyes were flickering about like seeing things that weren’t there.

“(Y/N)? Is everything okay?” Hector asked

(Y/N) froze when he spoke, looking at him with wide eyes, she twisted her head around to make sure no one was nearby before she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hidden alcove.

There was fear in her eyes as she gripped his hands tightly, “I am telling you this because I trust you but you cannot tell anyone or they will kill me.”

“(Y/N)...?”

(Y/N) casts one more precautionary look around her before speaking, “I can speak to animals”

Hector blinked in surprise, that was the last thing he expected.

“You...speak to animals?”

“Speak, understand, you know the whole thing”

“...The whole thing?” Hector repeated after her.

(Y/N)’s shoulder slumped in disappointment at his words, “You do not believe me. Of course, you don’t, I sound like a crazy woman.”

“No, no!” Hector was quick to reassure her, “I don’t think you’re crazy, of course not.”

(Y/N) gripped Hector’s hands tighter in relief and he suddenly realised that they had not stopped holding hands since she had dragged him. Her hands were soft but strong and steady and they fit perfectly in his, he never wanted to let go.

“I could do since I was a child and I told my parents but they thought I was a child with a large imagination so they ignored me,” (Y/N) began to elaborate on her talent, “And when I was ten there was a witch-burning in our old town, an older woman was accused of conjuring spirits and setting against the people of the village but in reality, she was just a sick old woman who needed help. After that, I knew I couldn’t let anyone know about you know what”

“Why did you tell me?” Hector asked.

“...I don’t know. There’s something about you, so understanding, empathetic, trustworthy. I know I can trust you.”

(Y/N) had revealed her deepest secret to him, made herself vulnerable yet he could not do the same to her, though the ability to communicate with animals was much different than being a forgemaster.

“You can trust me, I promise I will not tell anyone.”

(Y/N)’s shoulders relaxed and she gave him a brief smile, “Your belief in me means more than you know.”

“Now,” Hector lifted the basket up, “Should we finish what we started?”

It had progressively gotten darker, the sun only moments away from going down completely.

“Of course! We must finish before it gets too dark.” (Y/N) stepped out of the alcove and hurried down the street, dragging Hector behind her, still holding on to his hand.

-

It was dark by the time they began to walk home, Hector insisting on walking her home so that she wasn’t alone at night. She stopped in front of a little cabin, not unlike his, it also wasn’t that far away from his.

“You don’t live with your family?” Hector asked.

(Y/N) shook her head, “It is better for me this way. I love my family, truly but the chance of them finding out about me is something I can’t risk. I cannot truly say that they wouldn’t expose me… there are some things that are beyond even family ties.”

“Anyway,” (Y/N) spoke with a sigh, “It is late, I need to sleep. Thank you for today, Hector. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Hector waited until (Y/N) had reached her door and spoke again, “Can we...meet again soon?”

(Y/N) gave him a toothy smile, “Of course. In two days by the lake? I can bring a picnic for lunch.”

Hector nodded, “I’ll see you then.”

He waited until her door closed before he made his way home, his heart feeling happy. He had forgotten how he felt earlier that day and (Y/N) had completely turned his day around. He did feel guilt though, he went to for help, a distraction which she provided and then she revealed a deep secret of hers yet he couldn’t even tell her about his nor his past with Lenore or history with Dracula and being a forgemaster. The things he carried were heavy yet (Y/N) had already been so understanding and kink that he didn’t fear telling them to her, he knew she would understand.

In two days at the picnic, he would tell her.

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) was already by the lake by the time he arrived, speaking out loud to someone he couldn’t see but when he heard the responding barks and yelps, he realised that she was talking to a dog. He hurried his pace to catch up to her, excited to see her communicate to animals in person.

“Is that a dog you’re speaking to?” He shouted as he jogged over to her.

(Y/N) spun around with a smile, “Yes! I’ll introduce you to him!”

She crouched down and took the dog into her arms before turning towards him after he finally reached her,

“Hector this is- Cezar”

“-Cezar”

Hector and (Y/N) spoke at the same time. Hector stared at the dog he had not seen since Carmilla had dragged him away after Dracula died and (Y/N) stared at Hector, surprised he knew the little mongrel dog.

Cezar eagerly barked at Hector, his tiny body wriggling in excitement as he tried to escape (Y/N)’s hold, so she let him down and watched as he raced over to Hector barking like mad and when Hector kneeled down, the door jumped into his arms and wiggled some more.

“...So I guess you know each other then?” (Y/N) asked.

“Cezar is my dog,” Hector explained, giving the small dog rubs and pats, “I got separated from him a while ago but how did you meet him?”

“We stumbled across each other last year and then we became close companions...but I’ve always been curious about something about him.”

“Is it that he looks like he should be dead?”

(Y/N) laughed, “Yes, Hector. Don’t get me wrong, I love the little dog but he looks a bit beyond his years.”

Hector put Cezar down and together they began walking towards the lake so they could set up their picnic.

He took a deep breath before he began to explain what he could do, “I’m a forgemaster.”

“Forgemaster? What’s that?”

Of course, she wouldn’t know what that was, her world was not the same as his.

“I can bring back animals and humans from the dead and call demons from hell.”

“Wow...that’s uh...wow”

“I’m sorry for dumping this on you, I know it’s quite heavy stuff.”

“I did not know that was possible”

“Many don’t. It’s beyond comprehension.”

“If I wasn’t looking at proof right now” (Y/N) pointed towards Cezar who was trotting ahead of them, “I wouldn’t believe it either.”

“Is that what caused you such distress the other day?” (Y/N) asked as they found a place to sit down.

“No, no, that was about Lenore.”

(Y/N) kept quiet allowing Hector to speak at his own pace.

“I was taken captive, stuck in a cell and Lenore gained my trust, pretending that she was someone that I could trust only to betray me and me her slave to her and her sisters. I was under their or more specifically her control for over a year until I managed to trick her and end the ‘bond’.”

“Where’s she now?”

“Dead. She was a vampire and decided it was her time to go.”

“Did you love her?” (Y/N) asked

“No, I don’t think I did. After I realised what she had done to me any feelings that I may have had disappeared, they were not formed authentically. I still feel incredibly stupid about the whole thing, I was foolish to believe someone who was involved in sisterhood with the person who captured me would genuinely care for me.”

“You were not foolish, you were human Hector '' (Y/N) comforted him, “You were vulnerable and she took advantage of that, you should not feel ashamed. You are strong that’s why you’re here with me right now and Lenore is no longer alive. You will never be proud of yourself if you keep on diminishing what you’ve achieved so far. You’ll never be happy and I want you to be happy”

Hector takes her hand in his, “I want to be happy.”

(Y/N) smiles at him, “You will be, I know you will.”

“I want to be happy with you”

“Oh-” (Y/N) smile changes into a softer one that tickles Hector’s heart, “I want to be happy with you too.”

“Imagine it,” Hector falls onto his back and tugs (Y/N) down with him, “You, me, Cezar in a cabin in the woods and all the animals you wish to speak to”

(Y/N) laughs, “You wouldn’t believe how chatting animals are, I’m fine with just being me you and Cezar for the moment.”

Cezar jumps up on Hector’s chest with a bark before settling down with a huff.

“Sounds like he agrees”

[umblackness]

needy

pairing – harry styles x reader

warning – humiliation. exhibitionism. daddy kink. cockwarming. degradation. dumbification. hella lot cringe. crawling? 18 +

summary – you aren't needy, no. but that doesn't mean you will let go the opportunity of harry fucking you.

request – And one where Harry takes you to Italy to a Beautiful villa with an infinity Pool and get cought by paparazzi having sex there haha !

author's note – this is shitty and not proofread so I am so sorry !! also, sorry for the wait too . . .

neediness.

it was the only thing that you were completely and utterly foreign. being a middle child, your needs weren't never really taken as needs. you didn't know what it felt to need something.

the first time when you needed something, was when you were a teenager and hadn't studied for your exam. you had fucking squealed when the results had come out and you had passed.

the second time was when you were going to confess your feelings for harry ; you just needed him to like you back. which, for the record, he did.

the third time was your art competition in school. the fourth was when you had revealed your kinks to harry. the fifth was when you got into a fight with your best friend. the sixth was when your favorite sneakers were on sale. the sixth was your fight with your mom. the seventh was when your boyfriend asked a homeless you to move in with him.

quite frankly, after that, you lost the count because after that, you needed him with you. on every day, every minute, every second, you just needed him with you.

You walked towards the changing room, a towel in hand because 'baby, the towels are all dirty!' or so he had claimed.

He had taken you to a heavenly villa in Italy, for your second anniversary. and apart from the pizza store down the street, that sold cauliflowers in pizza, the whole vacation had been brilliant. till now.

you had been sitting in the living room, sipping your coffee in peace, while he was swimming in the backyard. suddenly and completely out of the blue, he had called for you to bring a clean towel.

so, being the good girl you were, you had abandoned your coffee and now here you were. you were snapped out of your thoughts, when you felt someone push you into the water.

and since you and harry were the only one in the mansion, you had take a wild guess.

you emerged from underwater, letting out a shriek dramatically. however, your not-so-intense-glaring session came to an end as he jumped into the water too, before swimming closer to you.

"I don't want the towel, baby, you know what I want?"

He wrapped his arms around you, making you drop the things in your hand.

kissing your lips softly and passionately, he let his tongue dominate your mouth. he moved a bit so one of his hands moved to caress your cheek as the other one slipped lower, until it was gripping your ass.

quite frankly, you did know what he wanted. it was hard to forget when he talked about it throughout the flight. however, you couldn't help but tease him so the next words that came out of your mouth were filled of playfullness.

"What, daddy?" A growl that could make everyone and anyone drip with arousal vibrated through his chest. He quickly walked you backwards to the edge, flipping you so that your back met his chest, once you guys were there.

"I wanna rearrange your guts and turn you into a stupid mess." He paused, the hand that was on your cheek, was now fisting your his shirt. "I wanna fuck you, make you cum again and again, until you are blabbering for me to stop. "

"You want that, don't you?"

You managed to nod shakily, feeling your heat become wet and this time, it wasn't because of the water . His finger ran up and down your pussy, finding it vulnerable and bare, just like he expected.

one of his stupid rules said that you weren't allowed to wear any panties when you two were alone and of course, as much as you acted like you hated it, the truth was that you loved it ; you loved allowing him to have easy access to your body.

"Fuck, kitten. been such a good girl, deserve a reward, don't you?"

your eyes met his darkened ones and almost as if on queue, a moan left your mouth, followed by another choked moan, as two of his fingers slid in your pussy, not giving you any time to adjust.

Harry leaned down, his hand leaving your ass to open your mouth for him. He collected his saliva, holding eye contact as he spat in your warm mouth.

the groan he had let out as some of it fell on your jaw, was intoxicated and you craved more.

The sight was addicting to him as much as it was to you. he couldn't help but add two more fingers, wanting you to really fall apart underneath him.

"Daddy!" You screamed, the pain from the stretch already fading to a barley there sting.

"Aw, I know, whore. It feels good, doesn't it?"

Your ears burned from his mocking tone, you could feel the blissful feeling, your pussy felt so good that it hurt and yet, you couldn't help but nod pathetically.

Harry sighed, mocking disappointment. "Use. Your. Words. Slut."

"Y-yes, d-daddy! feels so good, can I cum please?" you whined.

As if to punish you for breaking his rule, he begun rubbing your clit, knowing how much that drives you crazy. You moaned, your own hands moving to your hair. You felt your eyes close, only for them to snap back open a second later.

"Look at me when I am" Harry sped up his moments, collecting his spit again but this time he spat right on your face. "destroying your tiny fucking pussy, you cum rag. fucking cum now."

reaching your high quickly, you let out the loudest moan of his name. he slapped your pussy, making you realise your mistake. panting, you were still in your post orgasm phase when

your gaze moved to his cock, his boxers felt like they couldn't burst anytime and you felt proud. your smugness was short lived though because he quickly took his fingers out of you.

He gave you a quick wink before slipping the soaked fingers in his mouth back and forth, he groaned, making you suddenly aware of the wetness between thighs.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, cockslut?" Fucking shit, your pussy throbbed at that.

"C-can I ride you please?"

you peered up at him through your eyelashes, hoping to appear innocent—it was all for nothing though, when he just landed another slap on your pussy.

still not saying anything, harry let go of you and walked out of the pool. your green eyed lover looked at you once again before slipping in the sun lounger by the pool.

Harry relaxed back in the chair before beckoning you forward with a finger and you, ever the good girl, go with it. you ignored the confusion and frustration in your mind as you climbed out of the pool.

As soon as you took a step forward, a tsk came from harry. "crawl for me like the good little slut, you are and can be."

you stared at him—it wasn't like you weren't comfortable, you and harry had discussed the limits months ago but what surprised you, was how much you wanted it.

you were broken out of your thoughts when he sighed mockingly. "I said crawl for me or is that too much to understand for your stupid little baby mind?"

you whimpered, dropping to your hands and knees. keeping your head up to maintain eye contact with harry, you crawled over.

once you were there, he was quick to manhandle you on his lap. his hands moved to your neck, where they caressed your collarbones. Harry's mouth replaced his hands soon, sucking hickies in your neck.

"good girl, maybe your not just a set of holes for me to use, after all." he spoke against your skin, making you shiver at his words.

"d-daddy, wanna make you feel good." you moaned, just wanting to please him like he pleased you.

"oh yeah?" he spoke and you could feel him smirk in your neck. "there's my good little cockslut, always so fucking eager to please her daddy. go on, baby, use your hand, since there's no way in hell I am going to grace that little throat with my cock."

nodding pathetically, you quickly lifted yourself up and lowered his boxers, just enough to take out his cock. one of your hands grabbed his cock, while the other swiped over the angry red tip.

your eyes moved to find his, only now taking in the fact that he had lifted his head from your neck. he hissed quietly, making you smile proudly.

your hand that was around his cock, fastened his pace and so did the one that was playing with his cock head. "I am your good girl, your good slut, right, daddy?"

"my best slut, so good to me." he regretted his words when he saw your proud smile change into a cocky one. "but that doesn't change the fact you are a slut, yeah?"

you nodded, letting out another whimper. wanting to make him feel good, you gave attention to his balls and his cock head more. he twitched, indicating that he was close.

and then, suddenly, he took your hand away.

"Gotta save daddy's precious cum for your little tummy, hm baby?" Harry whispered, squeezing your hand before his demeanor changed back to dominance.

"y'wanna have Daddys cum in your tummy?" he began, noting the eager glint in your eyes as you nodded way too fast. "Then earn for it. use your dumb little baby mind to make me cum and I would consider letting you cum again. Ride me."

a broken moan vibrated from your chest, only making him more amused. your lifted yourself before lowering down on his cock slowly.

you placed your hands on his shoulders for support, once you had taken half of him. you begun bouncing on his cock, trying to create a rhythm.

a scream of his name left your mouth, your body finally getting what it wanted. you looked up at him, only to whine at the sight— harry was relaxed back, his hands beside his head and he looked completely disinterested.

"does that feel good, daddy?" you asked, knowing that he had make fun of you—after all, that was what you needed.

"does that feel good, daddy?" he mocked, his lips set into a subtle smirk, even though you knew he was going soft inside. "look at my good cumdump, so eager for her daddy's pleasure."

you whined, bouncing harder on him, going completely in the rhythm you had set. you leaned to kiss him, sighing. after not even two seconds in the kiss, he bit your lip roughly, demanding entrance.

your passionate kiss went on for ten more seconds—seconds that consisted his tongue dominating your mouth and playing with yours—before he pulled away, with your bottom lip in his mouth.

harry leaned back a bit before letting go of it and watching it snap back into your place.

you smirked at the action, fastening your pace. however, it wasn't fast enough for your lover because the next thing you knew, he had thursted up into you, breaking youd rhythm and smirking harder at the broken moan you let out.

he went still again, making you do all the work. sighing lazily, harry moved to rub your clit, making your release come faster and so you bounced harder on him, tightening your pussy every once in a while.

he groaned, making a proud smile appear on your lips.

"d-daddy, can I cum?"

"hold it, yeah?"

before you could reply, he smashed his lips against yours. he rubbed faster at your clit, making you let out a small gasp. he took the opportunity as his tongue entered your mouth.

his tongue played with yours instantly, making you moan against his mouth. his tongue pushed yours back down before exploring your mouth.

harry pulled back, uttering a single growl of "my good girl" before diving in for another long passionate kiss.

feeling his dick hit your g-spot, you moaned loudly. he pulled back again, this time to breathe. he watched with darkened eyes as you threw your head back and screamed his name.

"cum with daddy, baby. let go, yeah? wanna soak daddy with your juices?"

as soon as his permission reached your ears, the coil in your stomach tightened before breaking completely. you screamed his name again, letting out a few curses.

he followed soon after, filling your pussy fully with groans and growls of your name.

you relaxed against his chest, both of you relaxing for ten or so minutes before he carried you back inside, his now softening cock still buried in you.

he laid the both of you on the bed, smiling when you started playing with his hair. Harry nuzzled your neck, laying soft kisses on your neck, smirking whenever he came across an hickey.

the sheets around you were soft and like dreams. however, the man that was covering you with his arms now, was softer.

you stared at him, admiring his beauty and even though it sounded a little creepy, you didn't care. who wouldn't admire this God of a man.

you cuddled against his bare chest even more. you guys had slept while you were cockwarming him—actually, he had carried you around yesterday, since your legs had felt like jelly. you wouldn't have it any other way though.

you closed your eyes, almost falling back asleep when the sound of your phone buzzing snapped your eyes spoken. Harry groaned, tightening his arms around you.

you patted his hair softly, watching as the tension left his body and his eyes softly opened. you gave him your signature smirk, he shook his head, burrying it in your hair afterwards.

his hand gave a small squeeze to your ass, though his hand moved back to your waist, when you shot him a glare.

the cute moment was interrupted by your fucking phone buzzing. he groaned again, nuzzling his head in your hair even more.

you pulled back to blindly grab your phone from the bedside table, smiling at the one direction lockscreen before quickly typing in his name for password.

you looked over your notifications, your disinterest quickly changing into dread as you came across one particular twitter notification.

"no, nope, this can't be happening." you muttered, clicking onto the notification.

Harry furrowed his brows at that, sitting up with you in his arms quickly and accidentally thrusting up in you. "Is it a other hate comment, angel? I told those assholes to not bother my baby but no-"

"shut up, h." you smacked his chest as he raised one eyebrow. "Sarah just messaged me and our photos got leaked. it's breaking the internet."

"what?" he took your phone and sure enough, there were four blurred paparazzi photos of you two from yesterday.

the first one was of him kissing you in the water, the second was of him spitting in your mouth, the next was of him sucking his fingers and winking at you, the fourth was of you crawling for him.

"baby, these are all blurred. the ones with me spitting and you crawling for daddy are even more blurred. management is probably going to do something so don't worry, yeah?"

he wasn't wrong though — you thought, nodding at him. now that you were reassured, maybe you didn't need the earth to swallow you now.

you smiled a little before he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

"besides, the world and your little friends now know about how you are a filthy slut for daddy, yea– OW, I AM SORRY!"

[bonny-kookoo]

Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance,  Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.

[dimdiamond]

Bagginshield fic list

Yeah, I decided to make one too because there are enough to cause me headaches and I'd like to have them somewhere organized. Please look at the tags before reading them!

Fix-it fics

Desperate magic by BeautifulFiction: Bilbo is left to tend Thorin as he hovers on the brink of death after the Battle of the Five Armies. Is love enough to save Erebor's king, or is this the last farewell?

Lay your troubles down by Avelera: An extended version of "the acorn scene." Bilbo sees his chance to snap Thorin out of his madness, and takes it.

The Riven Crown by BeautifulFiction: The aftermath of war is no laughing matter. Those who died must be honoured, those who are wounded must be healed, and those who remain need food and clothing, peace and sanctuary. With Thorin's life hanging in the balance, it is up to Bilbo and the rest of the Company to rule the rag-tag remnants of Erebor in his place. Then there is the matter of the gold... Can Bilbo save both king and kingdom, or is Erebor destined to fall deeper into ruin?

The Color of Possibility by lindoreda: When Bilbo puts himself between Thorin and Azog's blade, his mithril shirt protecting them both, it isn't long before some dwarves whisper that 'Oakenshield' might not be the best epithet for their king anymore. But for Bilbo, barred from Thorin's sight since the battle, this new epithet only adds to the sting. Spending his days caring for the recovering princes, Bilbo wonders how much more of this he can take, not suspecting his place at the center of a silent divide in the company.

Homesick by Margo_Kim: Five years after they've reclaimed Erebor, Thorin is sick of home, Bilbo is just sick, and neither is handling the situation ideally.

The Road Delivered Us Home by keelywolfe: In the years since Bilbo left Erebor, he has lost his respectability, gained a nephew, and gotten on with life at Bag End. He'd left aside adventure for the comforts and peace of his little Hobbit hole, and for the love of a child who needed him. Though perhaps, adventures can yet find him.

Notices in the Paper by YamBits: Bilbo returns to the Shire after his adventure, newly married, and newly homeless, after his two year absence allowed the Sackville-Bagginses to obtain Bag End. Bilbo and Thorin go to the Tooks for help, and find newly orphaned Frodo Baggins, also looking for a home.

A Royal Guardianship by ladyoakenshields: When Bilbo and Thorin return to the Shire for a sabbatical during Yuletide, they find a reason to retire the throne in Erebor sooner than expected.

The Shire's gems by awkwarng3: Thorin, Bilbo, and Frodo move to the Shire after raising Frodo in Erebor, and Frodo makes a friend.

Time travel fix-it fics

An expected journey by MarieJacquelyn: For years Bilbo has written about his adventures and told stories about his dealings with dwarves and dragons. To most it seemed like fanciful nonsense but to Bilbo it was all very real. A weight followed him home from his travels, one called regret. Now in his final moments Bilbo has a choice to make – go quietly into death’s embrace or go back again and face all the fear and pain for the chance to make things right? Of course, change is a fickle thing and not everything can be done again as Bilbo is about to find out. In the end, it may not only be salvation that he’s fighting for.

Bilbo Baggins, warrior of the Valar by Pallalalo: Bilbo raised his eyebrows. “And you’ve come to the Shire to look for this someone? My, Gandalf, I wonder if you know Hobbits at all. They would tell you that adventures are nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. That they would make you late for dinner.” Bilbo recalled his own words perfectly. It had been something he and Gandalf had looked back on with bittersweet laughter. This Gandalf however noticed his exact words. “Would they now? And what about you, mhm? What would you tell me about adventures?” #The Valar send Bilbo back in time, to the day where Gandalf asks him to join in an adventure. After living a lifetime of regret and suffering, he vows to change things for the better. For Thorin. For Frodo. But will he succeed?

I'll die to care for you by thehufflepuffhobbit: His gaze landed on Mahal's eyes once more. "You did your best, Thorin." It was tempting to look away; he wanted to deny that with everything he had. It certainly didn't feel as though falling into Gold Sickness and then dying was doing his best. Mahal smirked, as though he knew Thorin's desire to contradict him, and pinched his cheek before walking over to a table. "Aye, I didn't think you would believe me. I'm not lying, it certainly could have gone better. More according to my plan, but I know you really did try." "Your plan?" He didn't know if he should ask, really. Knowing that his Maker had set a course for him, he didn't want to think about the ways he had done everything wrong. There were too many examples of mistakes in his long life, too many opportunities that he had missed that had probably been planned for him from the beginning. Or:Mahal feels like Thorin fucked up his legacy and gives him a do over.

Darker times ahead by Reach4theSky: Bilbo is sailing to the Undying Lands but wary of letting go of the guilt that has been with him for many decade. His most sincerest wish is to go back and change what was done. Before reaching the lands of peace and healing, he dies aboard the ship and finds that his wish is being granted, not because he is the one to wish it but because this is the dwarves last chance to escape a fate of eternal waiting. He finds that not only is he going to be sent back to his younger body, but so is the entire Company of Thorin Oakenshield. Time is a fickle thing and not all the members have their memories returned to them at the same time. The journey on becomes interesting as the dwarves slowly remember and fight for themselves and their kin, yet new hurdles are thrown at them when they realize that more people remember than expected...

Of an arcane binding by Salvia_G: An inexplicable magic ties Bilbo Baggins, hobbit of the Shire, to Thorin, dwarven prince of Erebor.

Legends by DomesticGoddess: The fellowship has set out on its noble quest to destroy the ring and put an end to the threat that is Sauron! Just set out really, barely left the gates of Imladris, but things are going smoothly enough so far. That is until the two most unlikely party crashers fall upon their little fellowship. Uncle Bilbo and the Legendary Thorin Oakenshield?! Frodo just wants to know what's going on but the two of them won't stop hollering at each other long enough for anyone to get a word in edgewise. Suddenly, their little group is joined by Frodo's two biggest heroes and he discovers there was a lot more to Uncle Bilbo's stories than he realized.

Beside myself by bliboboggins: "What are you doing? Just who do you think you are?" Startled, Bilbo turned around slowly. And there, in a familiar patchwork dressing gown, brandishing a fire poker wildly about, was... Bilbo.

Erebor never fell au fics

The hearth doesn't make the home by Moonrose91: For things Bilbo could not change, he was condemned to a life of isolation, with the belief that none could love him. And then a Dwarf came to Hobbiton.

Clarity of vision by Mithen: In a Middle-Earth where Erebor never fell, a shadow remains in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo Baggins finds himself drawn reluctantly into a quest that will lead him across the continent--from Bree to Lake Evendim to the icy North and beyond--with a party of five dwarves searching for an artifact that will cure the ailing King Thrór.

Ghivashel by mdseiran: The last thing Bilbo expects when he stays up late one night is company. The strange dwarf and his companion crash into his life and prove unexpected saviours. But the dwarf seems to think he will be joining them on their travels, and Bilbo has no such intentions.

The Song of My Heart by DomesticGoddess: After a failed attempt of trying to carve out a new home in the Blue Mountains for his people, Thorin finds himself beseeching the Hobbit Thain and his council for a place for his people in their bountiful land. An agreement is struck and plans in the works for integrating his people into their land. The only condition being an arranged marriage between himself and one of their family heads. A small price to pay to see his people safe and well fed. Unfortunately, he’s to marry the most disagreeable hobbit in all the Shire who also seems to hold a personal grudge against him. If only he could figure out why his new betrothed hates him so much.

Oak and Mistletoe by HildyJ: After a life dominated by a strange form of sickness, Thorin is sent to the Shire to seek a cure only Bilbo Baggins can offer.

Karkûn shukula - A Cinderella AU by harrypanther: When the Prince of the Shire visits the Kingdom of Erebor, there is great excitement. There are hopes he will choose to marry one of the Royal Family, cementing an alliance that would secure food supplies for the dwarven Kingdom and gain new allies. All eligible dwarves are expected to attend a series of Balls. Unknown to the guests, there is a third royal child, manoeuvred out by his ambitious stepmother, for whom this may be his last chance of restoring his fortunes and escaping his fate…

Alone this Yuletide by Emsiecat: 'Alone this Yuletide? Irritated with prying and nosey family members? I am an out of work blacksmith currently trying to make my way by any means necessary that does not involve my resorting to thievery (prisons are most uncomfortable, I've unfortunate first hand experience). However, if you would like me to be your strictly platonic companion for any social function, but have me pretend that we are in a serious courtship, so as to torment your family and ward off unwanted suitors then I am more than obliging...' After becoming increasingly irritated by overtures of romance from various Shire residents following the death of his mother four years ago, Bilbo is more than ready to resort to desperate measures. That is, up to and including pretending to be in a serious relationship with a certain surly blacksmith currently inhabiting the Bindbale Woods. It's a good idea after all; all they have to do is pretend to be in love over the Yuletide period and Bilbo's family and suitors will surely leave him alone after that. It's perfect! And nothing can possibly go wrong, right? Certainly nothing as preposterous as falling for one another for real...

Modern au fics

Nothing gold can stay by perkynurples: Bilbo Baggins led a rather peaceful life, thank you very much, until an old acquaintance decided to turn it upside down, and he found himself agreeing to take a job that’s… let’s say not exactly up his alley, and might eventually cost him a little more than his treasured cozy lifestyle. Who would have thought tutoring a slightly menacing monarch’s more than slightly overbearing nephew could prove to be such an adventure?

Love-In-Idleness by perkynurples: Taking Bilbo Baggins, a successful movie actor who is only just getting used to the perks and intricacies of becoming A Face People Want To See, and putting him together with Thorin Oakenshield, with his very traditional (read: slightly backwards) ideas about what constitutes Real Art and Real Talent, might very well be viewed as just some clothead’s idea of a joke. But there are jokes, and then there are carefully calculated risks the size of controversial reproductions of classic Shakespearean plays - for Bilbo, it is the chance of a lifetime to prove himself to all those who have ever deemed him too one-dimensional to even attempt stage, while Thorin has the opportunity to get out of the rut that’s been hindering his career for so long now, and shine in a role worthy of his talent once again. That is if the two learn how to share the same space for more than ten minutes without wanting to tear each other’s hair out. The course of true love never did run smooth, after all…

Candid by northerntrash: Thorin wasn't entirely sure why there was a six-foot candid photograph of him hanging in this exhibition, but he was going to wring the neck of whoever had put it there. In which Bilbo is a photographer, Thorin an accidental model, and Gandalf just likes to make trouble for everyone.

How the west was won and where it got us by stickman: Bilbo is a harried 1st year British literature Ph.D. (early 20th century fiction) who happens to have an interest in spatial narrative structures, a lack of time-management skills, and a tiny apartment with a lot of books and very little furniture. He’s stressed, always, and doesn't quite know where he belongs. He tells himself that really, this is, in fact, what he wants to be doing. But sometimes, as much as he loves books, he gets an urge to do something with his hands. Thorin is a disgruntled M.Arch. 1 in his last year who can’t be arsed to shave and frightens his students, and, frankly, his profs, but his work is top-notch so no one can really say much. They can, however, bully him into running a hands-on design workshop on Saturday mornings, which is complete crap, because he’s used to drinking his Friday nights into oblivion so showing up at Milstein at 7:45 the next morning and trying to teach in a room of wall-to-wall windows as the sun rises is not at the top of his list. Besides, no one ever shows up. Except one morning, someone does. [graduate school AU]

Butterfly effect by eyra: Yoga wasn’t for him. Yoga was for interesting people. Luminous people; people who took gap years and spoke a foreign language. People who ate lentils and burned incense and had fantastic, colourful friends with fantastic, colourful lives full of travel and silent retreats and those baggy trousers with elephants on them. Yoga was decidedly not for people like Bilbo, who wore cardigans and ate beans on toast and whose linguistic capabilities stretched only as far as a rusty Spanish A-Level. Just your regular story of boy meets yoga instructor.

Remover of the obstacles by MistakenMagic: "Dis often chided her older brother for being a misanthropist. She did it so often it had become a term of endearment. It was true that Thorin struggled with people; he struggled to form and maintain relationships. Dr. Grey had diagnosed him with this and Thorin hadn’t the heart to tell him this wasn’t a symptom of his PTSD, it was a symptom of his personality. He exercised a sense of apathy with almost everyone he met… But Bilbo was different. Thorin actually found himself wanting to know more about him."

Color outside the lines by andquitefrankly: Kindergarten has just gotten significantly better. Just ask Thorin, who's got the biggest crush on the new kid in class, Bilbo Baggins. With the help of his friends, Thorin knows that he can take back the swings from the 1st graders, show up the K-1 class in the school pageant, and win the heart of one curly haired boy. Yup. Kindergarten is going to be a year to remember.

Bran' New Suit by pibroch (littleblackdog): Andrew's description had been sufficient to recognize him— a riot of honey brown curls, short in stature, a well-favoured face with expressive features— but it hadn't quite been enough to prepare Tom for the sharp, almost painful tug in his gut at the sight of the man. They had never met before, to the best of Tom's recollection, but there was something eerily and inexplicably familiar about him all the same.

Different species au fics

I've grown a hedge around my heart by pibroch (littleblackdog): "Thorin was the essence of so many Buckland oddities, distilled into one misfortunate young hobbit, much to his infinite embarrassment. Built like a stork, his father had said once, in an example of Thrain Brandybuck’s usual tactless humour. All beak and legs." Thorin Brandybuck, just recently come of age, still lives in his family’s smial in Buckland, with his parents and two younger siblings. Thorin is an odd duck amongst his relations and neighbours-- unsociable, grumpy, shy, and awkward. And beyond that, he looks rather strange even for a Bucklander, strongly favouring the thick, dark haired build of his Stoorish blood. It defies all sense and reason why Bilbo Baggins, an exemplar of all the respectable traits Thorin lacked, would ever desire a friendship with him. Bilbo, as Thorin discovers, is not always as sensible as he appears.

In which the dwarves are satyrs for reasons by HiddenKitty What the title says basically.

Bride of the demon king by DomesticGoddess: Thorin is King of the demons, a beast-like race feared by humans. Ever since the demons and humans formed a truce years ago, the humans have sent a young human every year as a tribute to the King of demons. Thorin is tired of having to deal with the tribute that has long since lost its meaning. The only tribute he'd be interested in is the boy he met fifteen years ago on the border of the demon and human realms. Despite his fantasies, Thorin knows the chances of ever seeing the boy again are slim to none, until they're not.

Lost He Wandered Under Leaves by serenbach: Thorin son of Thrain is a struggling blacksmith descended from a fallen line of kings. In an attempt to provide for his family over the winter, he reluctantly accepts an impossible sounding task - to hunt down an enchanted deer that lives in the Old Forest that borders the Shire, and make armour and weapons from its hide and antlers. He never expected to succeed. And he certainly never expected what he found to change his life so completely.

A Dryad's Tale by Bilbo Baggins by Moongazer12: Bilbo is a dryad (think little sibling to ents). Long ago a curse was placed upon him from destroying one of the rings of power. Whenever he touches someone with his bare skin he will make them insane. But despite this, he and Gandalf have gone on many adventures to help protect Middle Earth (What was the point to destroying the ring if something else destroyed it instead?) Gandalf has called on him once again to help on a quest, Bilbo just hopes that they read his amendments to the contract.

The quest but with a twist au fics

King, come at the red morning by Tawabids: Bilbo has heard fairytales of the lost prince of the dwarves, Thorin son of Thrain, who disappeared the day Smaug attacked the Lonely Mountain. But he does not believe in fairytales until he comes across the dwarf sleeping in the depths of Erebor, and kisses him back to life. Now Thorin - a hundred and fifty years out of his time - has to confront a world in which his city is empty, his people scattered, his baby brother Frerin is king, two nephews he's never met are missing in action, and a war is brewing right on his doorstep. And as if that wasn't complicated enough he's trapped in the body of an old man and falling stupidly in love with a gossipy, grudging little hobbit.

When the sun rises by Harry1981: Bilbo Baggins of Bag End was not a very respectable Hobbit. No respectable Hobbit had a sword and crossbow hanging in their home, nor did they have Dwarves as family. But Bilbo Baggins did, and all of Shire knew of his husband, blacksmith Thorin Oakenshield. When Bilbo comes home to find his Husband earlier than expected, he learns of a quest to reclaim Erebor. It is a death mission. Bilbo knows that Dwarves are stubborn creatures, and none more than Thorin himself. But nobody said that Bilbo himself was any less stubborn. So he will follow his dearest husband across all of Middle Earth, through plains and mountains and forests, all while hiding the true nature of their relationship (Dwarven politics never helped anyone), brushing off some old wounds (and getting new ones) and finding out new things about the dwarf Bilbo calls husband (and his extended family). Nobody ever said love was easy, after all.

Small, but fierce by DomesticGoddess: As a result of a magical mishap during the trip to the lonely mountain, Bilbo is reverted to a wee little hobbitling. Only in body, of course. His adult mind is still very aware of the indignity of it all (seriously! He doesn't need to be coddled, carried, and fed like a child). It turns out, dwarves love children and there is nothing cuter than Hobbit children. Bilbo soon realizes that he can get away with just about anything in his babyish form and starts taking full advantage of it. Even the grumpy brooding king can't deny the angelic little creature anything he desires (and Bilbo's going to milk that for all it's worth).

Your song like a home in my heart by Nennvial: In Middle Earth, all creatures have a soulmate. Not all have some, but if they do, it is a bond nothing can break, not even death. The more famous story of such a bound was the story of Bren and Luthien, who even defied detath. The way someone can find out that the other is one’s soulmate is through song: when they meet and hear the voice of the other, a song sings in their heart, which feels like home and makes them complete. They may refuse it if they wish to do so, but they hence risk a life of bitter looniness. Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins are soulmates, but they must admit it to themselves throughout their journey to Erebor.

To Dungeons Deep (And Caverns Old) by KingUndertheMountain: Bilbo Baggins was not your average hobbit. Of course, he had the wonderfully groomed and well-taken-care-of hairy feet like every other one of his race, yes, but he was not like other hobbits. He was cursed. Or, as the witch who gave him the enchantment put it, was “gifted”. She had given him the “gift” of obedience – whenever there was a direct command given to him, for example “cook a large meal” or “take a walk”, he could not disobey. Not without a lot of pain and eventual submission.

Chocolate candy one-shots

The world is sleeping (my world is you) by katheneverwrites (mandolinearts): I asked Persephone, “How could you grow to love him? He took you from flowers to a kingdom where not a single living thing can grow.” Persephone smiled, “My darling, every flower on your earth withers. What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.” - Nikita Gill ---“What do you mean, my friend?” There is a line of thought that surfaces in Gandalf’s mind, but he drowns it before it can take root. Surely not. But Bilbo’s chuckle sets him on edge. The small, gentle god of harvest, nature, and flowers sits up straighter, and in his crown of flowers there is a wire of strong metal, his cloak is suddenly not colorful anymore but the deepest black and he is terrifying, horrific, powerful - “I married Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the World.”

Of seasons by northerntrash: As far as he could tell, he had been kidnapped, which in itself made this week more than a little unusual. In which Bilbo steals away the Lord of Death, and Thorin can't quite bring himself to stay angry about it.

Warm up by paranoid_fridge: On one of their walks, Bilbo tumbles into a stream. They make it back to Bag End and Bilbo demands Thorin warm him up.

Royal Blue And Crimson Red by Mistofstars: Here's what happened before and after Bilbo accidentally eavesdrops on Gandalf and Elrond at night in Rivendell, as they discuss Thorin's quest and his family's history. Oh, and Thorin and Bilbo share a room, of course ;)

I was young when I left home by Margo_Kim: There was a pity clapper somewhere in the third row. Thorin finished his fourth song to polite applause from the people who noticed that the song was finished, but within the smattering of claps was someone beating his hands together like he was trying to rhythmically kill a fly. There was usually one of those, the kind who notices that no one else is paying attention and so is determined to compensate for that regardless of how they feel about the actual music. Thorin ignored him. It was easy to do so—he'd always hated looking at the audience when the singing was done.

A matter of buttons by StupidFatPenguin: “Your shirt,” says Thorin, quite out of the blue, and Bilbo looks down his front to see if there is a spot of tea or jam or anything equally embarrassing spilled on it. He is relieved to find nothing of the sort and looks up at the dwarf with an eyebrow raised in question. Thorin sits mute, his still-smoking pipe forgotten in his hand. He looks on for long moments still, seems almost lost to a thought before he shifts and lifts his gaze to meet Bilbo’s inquiring face. “It is familiar to me. Did you not wear this on the eve we met?” In which Bilbo and Thorin re-enact the evening they met.

The ladder by Milliethekitty27: Inspired from a post made by wheeloffortune-design on tumblr. Tired of his lonely kitchen in Yavanna's Garden, Bilbo Baggins wonders if the dwarven love of being underground is true in death. If so, maybe his dwarves are living (ha ha) under the very land Bilbo is weeding. With that thought, Bilbo goes and asks Hamfast for a shovel.

Love hobbit by HybridOwl: Bilbo Baggins considers himself a bit of a cock up, all things considered. He never made it out of his small highway adjacent town, can't seem to stop chain-smoking, and overall has more to talk about with the plants in his shop than 90% of all the rest of Middle Earth. So when he's reading the morning paper and a love note that can't be for anyone but him pops up, he's pretty sure - almost positive, really - that he's being made fun of. "TO the chain-smoking little stud who collects two metros from Gamgee's Goods every morning, will you be my love hobbit? - Bearded Biker." (heavily inspired by tumblr posts)

Fusion with other fandoms au fics

The Second Time by authoressjean; Sebastian Moran can't pull the trigger on John Watson to save his own hide, and what the hell is it with the doctor, anyway? Then Gandalf shows up, meddlesome wizard, and reminds him none too gently of his past life: as Thorin Oakenshield, leader of a company that had once included a small hobbit named Bilbo Baggins. One that looked decidedly like John Watson. And this would be the perfect chance to make things right with Bilbo the way he really hadn't been able to before he died, and that's when Gandalf tells him John doesn't remember being Bilbo, and to leave him alone. Right. Like that's going to happen.

And sow a star divided in us by MistakenMagic: Short summary: Gays in space! Longer summary: After his first successful solo mission, Jedi Knight Bilbo Baggins, trained by High Council member and full-time nuisance, Master Gandalf, returns to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. During an excursion to the sparring arena, he meets a group of Dwarven Jedi from Ered Luin, a mountainous planet located in the Outer Rim. Young padawans, Fili and Kili, are full of curiosity at this strange, barefoot Jedi, but Master Thorin, who appears to have the personality of a rancor and mental shields like blast doors, is less than impressed.

Comics you should definitely check

Every work by rutobuka, seriously they're criminally cute and they're not still favored by everyone without reason.

Retelling the Hobbit by Mellow_Comics: Bilbo has never been good at telling the "true" story of what happened on his journey to the Lonely Mountain. Now he's trying to turn the tale of his quest into a lighthearted children's book-- a bedtime story for his young nephew Frodo. But what really happened on his journey? And how did it actually affect him? This is a comic adaptation/retelling of the Hobbit! It's framed as a bedtime story that Bilbo is telling a younger Frodo.

For now these are some of my personal favourites! However, I'm sure my list will grow since my reading list has some gems still waiting for me to read, so be certain that there will be a part 2 of this list!

[mintugiyuu]

> here’s the final part of your request @kyojoroo ! I’m so sorry it’s in two different parts, but I learned for the first time that these text boxes have a limit lmao, again I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night! <3

༄ we have to stop meeting like this - continued

sfw one-shot

➥ pairing || rengoku kyojurou x reader

➥ au || modern day; college

➥ warnings || cheesy, tooth-rotting fluff with extra cheese

➥ synopsis || the reader keeps bumping into the one and only rengoku kyojurou; only instead of just casually seeing him over and over again, they quite literally bump into him in the most inconvenient ways possible. (cont.)

➥ part one || click here!

༄ the mediterranean sea collection - masterlist

Today had to be one of the worst days in your life. Freezing, drenched, and newly homeless, you tucked yourself onto the bus stop bench. Lucky you, this one didn't even have an awning to protect you from the elements.

The rain had no pity for your predicament as it pelted your body, the light clothing doing close to nothing for you. Summer had just come, yet the night rainfall seemed to have brought an unexpected chill.

Not to mention the suitcase and duffle bag you had with you were now also getting soaked.

You could only hope nothing was too waterlogged.

Your hand did little to protect your dying phone from getting wet as you tried to search for the nearest place to stay. Motel, hotel, air B'N'B; anything in range to get you off the streets for the night.

You had a feeling this would happen, and boy were kicking yourself for not seeing the red flags and preparing sooner.

Not having enough savings for a dorm, you had signed a contract with the residents of an apartment to rent out one of the rooms for cheap.

The agreement only lasted for two semesters, but they had promised that you'd be able to renew it once summer rolled around.

"Promise my ass." You grumbled, remembering how the original owner had gotten a partner. In return, they refused to let you sign another contract so they would have space for the "love of their life".

You saw the signs; you saw how their stuff slowly moved into the apartment and all the time they were spending there.

You just didn't think they'd be shitty enough people to kick you out the moment your contract ended.

A gust of icy wind rolled through, causing another shudder to rack your body. The closest place wasn't in walking distance, and it was far to late for the buses to be running. Sighing, you shut off your phone and closed your eyes.

You had resigned yourself to walk the several blocks to the nearest 24/7 fast food place to at least get out of the rain.

That was until the rain fall suddenly stopped beating down on you. The rain couldn't have stopped though, you could still hear it. You blinked your eyes open and looked up, surprised to what - or more accurately, who - you saw.

"...Kyojurou?"

Standing there in all his warmth and glory, Kyojurou looked down at you with concern, holding a bright red umbrella over your soaked form.

He couldn't seem to help the small smile that graced his lips at the sound of his first name.

"I'd be happier that you finally used my name if you didn't look so sad and drenched."

A humorless snort escaped your lips as you hugged yourself, shivering slightly. "Timing always has my side doesn't it? I'm just about to head to the closest food place to get out of the rain, so don't worry about it."

"Why?"

"I got kicked out," you shrugged, looking to the ground.

"This late at night?"

"It surprised me too. They found a new roommate and wouldn't let me renew my contract for the next school year, and it just so happens it ended tonight." There was a hint of bitterness in your tone, one that was completely understandable.

Kyojurou's brows furrowed. "They didn't give you a heads up? A two week notice?"

"I'm just lucky they let me pack all of my stuff before I had to leave." You continued to look down at the ground, not seeing the way Kyojurou's face contorted ever so slightly.

He didn't get mad often, but whoever your old roommates are were now on his shit list

"Well that's a shitty thing to do," he stated bluntly, causing you to sputter and blink dumbly at him.

It's been almost a year since you've met the blonde, and in all that time you never once heard him say a single bad word.

"Did you just curse??"

He pretended not to hear, pulling out his own phone to see the time as you mulled over the fact that this sweet ray of sunshine just called someone shitty.

Expression neutralizing as he schemed, he turned back to you. "You don't have to stay in a fast food place for the night."

"Huh?? Are you suggesting I sleep in a box?"

The man smiled, resting a reassuring hand on top of your shoulder, frustration forgotten for now. "You can stay with me!"

"What now?"

Chuckling, he passed the umbrella off to you to hold, beginning to slip his arms out of the jacket he wore. "You can stay with me for the time being until you get back on your feet! Well, us. If you wanted to of course! Sanemi just moved out, so we're looking for a new one regardless."

Baffled at the sudden offer, you started to shake your head, forming the words to decline him. It was too big of a favor, how could you accept that?

He was one step ahead of you, as he always is.

"Before you say anything, no, it would not be any trouble, you're a joy to have around! We can settle the nitty gritty later, let's just get you out of the cold."

"Wait, Kyojurou," you were silenced by a heavy warmth that suddenly engulfed your upper body, including your sight. Moving the fabric from your eyes, you realized it was his jacket.

His once dry clothes was slowly becoming just as soaked as you were as he took back the umbrella, insistently keeping it solely above you.

The gentle way he smiled in combination with the light post that shined behind his head had you convinced he was your guardian angel in disguise.

You hesitantly pulled the jacket closer to your body, not being able to deny how relieving the warmth felt. "But, won't you be cold?"

"My insides are practically pocket heaters, it takes a lot for me to be cold. A little wind and rain won't do anything to me, I promise! Now come on, before you get sick," he insisted as he grabbed your bag, throwing them over his shoulder.

"Little" was an understatement, but you didn't have the energy to argue. It was the middle of the night and you could feel your eyes starting to droop.

Grabbing your luggage to role behind, you let the other wrap his free arm around your form, hand resting on your arm. "Thank you, truly I don't know where to start showing how grateful I am. I owe you big time."

"Never refer to me as Rengoku-san again and I'll call it even!"

A wobbly smile tugged at your lips as you leaned into his side, letting him guide you down the route to his apartment. "You have a deal then, Kyojurou."

The weather broadcasters warned everyone about heavy snowfall, but you couldn’t help but think they could’ve prepared everyone a bit more as you stared out your window and could only see the shadow of snow.

Thank the gods above it was winter break or they’d have to cancel classes, which would just be tuition money flushed down the shitter.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door of the bedroom you were in, which was odd because the door was open.

Low and behold, it was your sweetheart of a boyfriend, holding two mugs and using his foot to knock. “I brought hot coco!”

"You don't have to knock, this is your room you dork."

"Our room technically, my dear." He responded smoothly, shutting the door with his foot behind him as he made his way to you.

"Careful not to spill it," he winked, laughing slightly as he handed you your mug.

"Just for that I should," you scoffed playfully, sticking your tongue out at him as you took the drink. The smile on his face was nothing but adoring, finding you to be adorable. You had to look away to dismiss the butterflies that swarmed in your tummy. “Looks like we’re snowed in for a bit. The snow is above the windows.”

Kyojurou hummed in agreement. “I still don’t understand how tiny snowflakes can become so damaging so fast!”

“You’re funny,” you chuckled, taking a sip of the hot beverage. Kyojurou always made the best hot chocolate.

“... UME! I’m glad I can be amusing!” You couldn't hold down the snort at the realization that he wasn't joking, swallowing and shaking your head. You granted him mercy and switched the subject.

“What are the others up to?”

Kyojurou leaned against the sill next to you, shoulder bumping yours affectionately. “Tengen is in the living room playing video games with his girlfriends, Mitsuri is watching a movie in her room and Obanai is watching with her. I think she's also painting his nails from the conversation I overheard while passing by."

“I see.”

The both of you were leaning against the window sill, basking in the comfortable silence. It wasn't common in an apartment full of unique roommates.

Even now you both could hear the loud victory cheer of Suma as Tengen groaned in defeat.

Taking another sip of your drink, you hummed, lifting your head to face Kyojurou. You were going to say something, but that was forgotten as you covered your mouth with your fingers as to not laugh suddenly.

"Hm? Is something wrong?" Your poor oblivious lover had a whipped cream mustache. He tilted his head at you - not unlike an owl - seemingly confused to your sudden shift in expression. You swallowed your laughter down as you placed your drink onto the sill, stepping closer to the blonde.

"No, nothing's wrong. You just have a little something rigghtt..." you reached out to grip his chin gently, swiping your thumb across his top lip to collect the whipped cream. "-there, all gone!"

A pretty, bright red color spread across Kyojurou’s face, wide eyes blinking owlishly at you with his mouth slightly agape. Laughing quietly at his reaction, you licked the cream off your thumb, patting the side of his cheek teasingly.

"You'll catch flies, hun." A click of teeth could be heard as he closed his mouth.

"RIGHT!" He stopped himself to clear his throat, turning to face the window as his usual smile reappeared, though a bit wobbly. "Thank you!"

All you did was hum, a slight mischievous smirk settling onto your face. You were set to happily go back to your drink when you shivered, the chill of the room finally reaching you through your clothes.

Kyojurou caught it from the corner of his eye, turning back to you. “Are you cold?”

You waved him off, shaking your head. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, you'll just get another sweatshirt.

“I’ll be ok. The hot coco will warm me up in- WOAH!” That plan was thrown out the window when he suddenly scooped you up into his broad arms, smiling determinedly.

"You're not allowed to just continue on being cold, not if I can help it!" The firey man plopped you down onto your shared bed, quickly gathering the collection of fluffy blankets you have accumulated over time.

In the blink of an eye, you were neatly swaddled in said blankets and being held gently to your boyfriend's warm chest. He settled underneath the main blanket, wrapping his strong arms around your body.

“Is that better?” He beamed at you, looking oh so proud of himself.

What did you do to deserve him?

"Much," you all but groaned, snuggling your face into the warmth of his chest. It was like cuddling a big warm marshmallow. “I still can’t understand how you’re so warm.”

“I’m a living-breathing heater, my dear. I’ve explained this before, I’m sure of it.”

You snorted, leaning into his hand as he began to run his fingers through your hair. “I’m not complaining, you’re good to keep around for whenever my hands freeze.”

“I wouldn’t mind one bit," his voice came out softly, planting a warm kiss to onto your forehead. This in turn caused you to melt even further into him, burying your face into his shirt.

Kyojurou laughed with amusement as he turned on the television, looking for something for the two of you to watch for the rest of the evening. You eventually peaked your head out to look at him, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Hey, Kyojurou?”

“Yes?”

All of his attention was on you. Even in these small moments he looks at you as though you're the most precious human being in the world. And to him, you were.

You hummed, placing a kiss onto his chin. “I’m happy I spilled my drink all over you.”

The small peck had similar effects from the whipped cream incident earlier, though he seemed to snap out of it quicker this time. He smiled brighter, cupping your cheek with his large, warm hand.

“That's an odd way of saying I love you."

This made you pause, the 'L-word' not being used between the two of you yet. “Wait, what?"

He gave you no time to question further as he placed a kiss onto your lips in return, his other hand finding the small of your back to pull you closer.

The initial shock of being kissed faded quickly, your arms finding their way around his neck as you pulled yourself closer. The kiss was short and sweet, yet the passion that Kyojurou lived by was always present.

The kiss came to a pause with you laying on top of his chest, remote forgotten and blankets wrapped around you as you steadied your breathing.

Kyojurou's eyes crinkled slightly with his smile, brushing the back of his hand across your cheek.

"I love you too."

[kiribaku-queen]

The Blood King and his Queen [9]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.8K

Summary:  From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: Ahhhh so sorry about the delay for this chapter!!! But hopefully you all were fed last week with my Bakugou Birthday Bash collab. But you guys are going to be fed again soon. Just you wait :) Happy Reading!

[previous]                                                                                               [next]

You turned over in your bed for the nth time that night. Something just wasn’t fitting right with you. The bed you were sleeping in was big enough for a family, the sheets were soft, the pillow was fluffy, servants were on standby if you needed something, water and snacks were on your bedside if you ever got hungry. So why couldn’t you fall asleep? You huffed, turning back over to try to get comfortable. There are times when you feel like you’re almost about to fall into a deep sleep and something just wakes you back up, making you wait for that long-awaited slumber.

After coming back to the palace from your long excursion, you were back to sleeping in separate bedrooms. Maybe that was why you couldn’t sleep. But it couldn’t be. You only slept with him a handful of times and all those times were purely accidental. You tried to find so many excuses so that wasn’t the case, but it actually might.

Bakugou groaned and plopped into bed. Why wasn’t he sleeping this late at night? This wasn’t normal. He was used to knocking out as soon as he touched his pillow but something was keeping him from doing just that.

He thought, no way. It couldn’t be because you weren’t here. The only reason he kept you in a different room from his is because you were a stranger at first. This marriage was only supposed to be a transactional trade: the princess would become a queen and Bakugou could rule both lands. He never expected to fall this deep for you, let alone fall for you at all.

Your room was right across the hall. Only a few steps away. Nothing was stopping him from going over to you this very moment. What if you didn’t want to see him? Then he would look foolish if he wanted to be with you but not the other way around. He didn’t want to look too desperate… fuck it. He could make up an excuse if he had to.

Jumping to his feet and swiftly removing himself from his sheets, he headed towards the door to go see you. What he didn’t know was that you were going to do the same thing. After a good minute of arguing to yourself, you grabbed a pillow and headed to his quarters.

You took a deep breath. You were standing right in front of his door, but now you started getting second thoughts. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he was already sleeping? Then you’d be disturbing him and be troublesome. You’ve already gotten this far already, there was no point in turning back now. Right before you were about to put your hand on the handle, the door swung open, revealing wide-eyed Bakugou in your presence.

“Princess…” Bakugou choked on his words. He was surprised to see you already standing in front of his door. Had you been standing there long? But what was making him flustered was the fact that you held a large pillow in front of you, looking up at him with wide, yet cute eyes of yours. You were the definition of adorable in that moment and honestly, Bakugou didn’t know what to do with himself.

“W-What are y-you do-doing here,” Bakugou stuttered over his words.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admit, looking down shyly.

“I couldn’t either,” Bakugou also confessed. Awkward silence. It was only because both of you didn’t want to admit or say the real reason why you came to each other.

You were already in front of him, you couldn’t back out now. It would just be embarrassing if you just made a dumb excuse, only to go back to your room and then all would be for naught. Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes to prepare yourself for the worst, you blurted out the question that burned deep inside your heart.

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Will you sleep with me?” you both asked at the same time. Your eyes shot wide open and immediately looked up to see Bakugou with sincere in his eyes. A slight blush of embarrassment dusted his cheeks but wouldn’t – couldn’t – take his eyes off you.

“Yes.”

“Yes,” you both blurted out. The air between you was tense with desire for each other, so much so that if you didn’t look away, you would be sucked into those crimson eyes for a lifetime. Cutting the atmosphere abruptly, you cleared your throat and walked passed him in his room.

“So this is what the Great Blood Prince’s room looks like,” you joked, taking a look around the room. Nothing like what you had imagined. The red theme was expected but you weren’t expecting such a plain looking room. Nothing but a bed against the wall, a furniture here and there and a couple paintings on the wall. But still luxurious.

“Cozy,” you noted, turning around to say something else, but you were met with a powerful presence, Bakugou taking a step too close to you. You sharply gasped, your eyes automatically wanting to close shut to take him all in.

Something overcame Bakugou in that moment. Seeing you in his room. After hours. Nothing but a pillow and your silky nightgown. It was doing something to him and he couldn’t control this overwhelming feeling of want. He wanted you.

Your noses were practically touching, his lips just inches away from yours. Your heart pounded in your chest as you let out shaky breaths. Bakugou slowly wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close. You were about to close your eyes and submit to his touch but suddenly, the image of the princess’ face popped in your mind. You placed a hand on his chest, stopping your movements and his all together.

“What’s wrong?” Bakugou sounded so hurt by your abrupt actions.

“Sleepy,” you lied, quickly turning around and jumped into his bed, huddling under the sheets. Bakugou stood where he was, letting out a sigh of frustration. But the moment he looked at you and how comfortable you looked in his bed, all signs of frustration and disappointment disappeared. He wasn’t going to let this small rejection ruin his mood. He joined you in bed but you both kept to your side of the bed.

You couldn’t do it. You felt so guilty. Sure, you said that you were going to take the real princess’ spot. He doesn’t have to know that you aren’t the real princess, because once you became queen, she can’t touch you. But hiding these lies wasn’t like you. That’s not who you were. And so this lie was eating you alive. You had to tell him. But when?

You were up all night thinking about it. Talk about getting a good night’s rest. You thought having the prince by your side would help your restlessness, but now a new problem arose. The guilt wouldn’t stop eating at you, causing you to continue to stay up.

You felt a strong hold wrap around your waist and a warm body right up against your back. The male behind you exhaled, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

“Can’t sleep?” he spoke up.

“You could tell?” you asked, not surprised that you got caught.

“It’s hard not to when you keep changing positions” he chuckles in your ear. His light hearted laugh made you relax a bit.

“Tell me,” Bakugou started. “Do you still want to become my queen?”

“Of course. There’s no doubt in my mind,” you didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Even if it means that you’ll forever be bound to the infamous, killer Blood Prince?” You turned over to him and looked him dead in the eye.

“Even if it means that,” you whispered seriously. Now it was your turn to ask questions. “Now tell me, oh Prince. Why do you want to marry this princess?” you ask.

“Because. You’re kind, sweet, innocent. I need a queen like you to rule by my side so I can change my image as the Blood Prince,” he said. Now this was news to you.

“Change? I guess you are very different from your brothers…” you mumble.

“All because of those rumors. They aren’t entirely wrong though. My brothers and I are known for being ruthless. But I’m tired of keeping up this act of being angry and vicious all the time. I’ll slay anyone if I have to, but I’ve killed too many innocent people, just because I was ordered to. When I become King, I want to change the legend of the Bakugou family, that we’re not all killing monsters. I need a queen like you to help me find my way. I fight the way I do to keep my people safe, to save those in poverty and those who are homeless so they aren’t attacked by bandits. It needs to change and that change starts with me. You’ll help me right?” he looked at you willfully.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you reassured him. For the first time, Bakugou deliberately smiles at you, a face you’ve only seen him make when he’s with his soldiers. He pulls you in, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Let’s sleep,” he ordered and you finally fell asleep in his arms.

The next couple days, you were busy helping prepare decorations for the upcoming ball the King was hosting in celebration of your engagement together. Bakugou, on the other hand, was too busy patrolling and doing princely stuff, that you had no idea what that was, that you barely saw him those couple days. You could see him at night, where you sleep over in his room, but by the time Bakugou comes back from his duties, you were already in dreamland.

Thankfully, you had company. You created a bond with the servant girls that are constantly with you every single day. After all, you were a servant girl who was pretending to be a princess, so it was a piece of cake talking to them. They were telling you all the gossip and even helping you with the ball since you were so bored doing nothing all day. Flowers were already picked out, food already decided, your dress was being custom made, guests were on their way here, decorations were being put up in the ballroom.

There were times when you and Bakugou would cross paths in the palace. The prince was busy walking with generals when passing by with your girls. You bit your lip in excitement but decided not to say anything since they were in deep conversation with each other. Yet, your eyes never left him, mesmerized by this working state. You thought Bakugou would be too busy to even notice you. Oh, no. When you came into his peripheral vision, he noticed your beauty right away. Though, he kept his eyes with the generals. When you got closer, that’s when he took a peek at you and seeing your excited face got him all giddy. He smirked at your cute expression when you passed and you didn’t miss that curl of his lips. Bakugou continued to walk off with the generals and your girls all squealed, hitting you in excitement.

During your down times, which was often, you came to the conclusion that you were going to study and read books to help you become a better Queen. The real princess had all her life to study and perfect her skills as a princess. Even though she was lazy and lacked a lot of those skills, you were just beginning and couldn’t compare to her level. You had to get to it if you were going to rule the kingdom by Bakugou’s side. Of course, you also had to keep it on the downlow so that no one becomes suspicious of you for learning the basics.

You picked up one book – a poetry book and read up on the classics. You were immersed by how lovely every line was, how beautiful the stories were written. You could see the love story translate into a movie across the page. But there was one part in the story that had you pay close attention to.

The two lovers looked up at the illuminating bullet across the clear sky

As they gazed into one another’s eyes

They could feel their hearts beat as one

Feeling as time stopped for them

The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?

I can die happy, the lover responded

As they can truly die happy

The beautiful scenery was enough to last them a lifetime of happiness

Tears welled in your eyes. Did you read that correctly? And did you remember correctly? Had Bakugou said that phrase to you one time? But what does that mean? Does that mean… impossible. It was probably only pure coincidence that he said that. There’s no way that he… right?

The usual reaction would that you would be over the moon. That would mean that you two share the same feelings for each other. But instead of feeling ecstatic, the guilt was eating at you even more.

Of course you were excited to see him every time he came home, when he got the chance. And he would spend every free moment with you. He’d tell you about his adventures outside the palace, what he did that day, his plans for when he becomes King, and much, much more. He never failed to initiate some form of contact with you, whether it be linking pinkies when taking a stroll or placing a hand on your lower back when talking to others. But because you couldn’t free your mind from this guilt, you were rejecting each and every one of his advancements.

This makes Bakugou frown. He keeps trying, thinking that maybe he was misunderstanding something or reading the situation wrong but you keep denying him.

Enough was enough.

You had just send your servants away, walking down the long hallway to get back to your room to rest. That is, until a hand comes out of nowhere, and pulls you into another hallway – a short, more narrow hallway that gives you a tight squeeze with two people. Bakugou trapped you between him and the wall, arms on either side of you.

“Your highness!” you exclaimed when you saw it was him. But he didn’t look too happy.

“What gives?” he asks, frowning at you. His expression reminded you of the time you first met him.

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused.

“Don’t play dumb with me. If you dislike me, just say it,” he said. But he was making things even more confusing for you.

“Why would you think that?”

“You’ve been avoiding me. Every time I try to be intimate with you, you reject me. Is it because we aren’t married yet? Or is it because you don’t have any interest in me?” he asks you.

“It’s not because of that at all!” you panicked, putting your hands up in defense. “I’ve never done this before, so I’m not sure what to do… and well, that’s actually something I need to tell-”

“Prove it,” Bakugou interrupts you.

“Huh?” your mind ran a blank all of a sudden, completely forgetting what you were supposed to say.

“You really don’t dislike me? Prove it,” he challenged. You stared up at his eyes and they were filled with hurt, confusion, betrayal, hope. You caused that. No, no. That’s not what you wanted. Without hesitation, you said with your heart and soul,

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

Bakugou had heard enough. He cupped both cheeks and smashed his lips into yours in a powerful, yet passionate kiss. Fireworks were going off in your head and your heart was beating like you had just ran a race. The feeling of content and love was overpowering your senses. It felt warm and comforting and you didn’t want to let this feeling go. Ever. Bakugou disconnected from you first, allowing both of you to catch your breaths.

“I can die happy,” he said softly, in between breaths. Your breath got caught in your throat. It was this time that you took his face and kissed him, your knees falling weak under you. All you could think about was how soft he felt against your lips and how addictive his taste was. Bakugou’s hands had a mind all of its own. They snaked behind you, holding you close, feeling that you could never be too close to him. Actually, it was never enough. He wanted more of you. He wanted you even closer to him, to feel you all over and never let go.

Kirishima and Denki were casually strolling the halls, heading wherever they wanted to go. They were about to pass this very intimate moment between lovers, that is until Denki happened to look to the side and see a sight that could get him beheaded.

“Holy shi-” Denki began to shout, but Kirishima was quick to cover his mouth, pick him up and get them out of there as fast as possible.

“You fucking idiot. Why do you always do that!?” Kirishima scolded.

A/N: Please let me know what you guys thought of this chapter! Enough fluff? Are you guys sick of it yet? Next chapter might be a little s p i c y ~

An FYI, in case you haven't seen it:

I'm holding a special event for 1000+ followers and my one year anniversary here on tumblr! Send in headcannons and/or requests for my hero and Haikyuu characters!! Event closes MAY 9TH!

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know!

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @melasnchz-things @animexholic @bkgwrites @sam-i-am-1025 @apexqueenie @katsukibabe @tspice283 @angie-1306 @bakugous-trauma @bakugousmrs @random-fandom-girl-24 @monetfatalia @triviajeongin @readingslumpfanfic @softredrobin @daddy-daichis @stardream14 @spicysherlock @cathwritestragediesnotsins @luvtaromilktea @aaannaabbanana @i-ameri-cant @shyonigirichan @aomi04 @anime-for-live @maggiecc @cloudsgathering @germfart3​

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 27 - Following Threads

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, what will be found?, 5.2k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26

WARNINGS: anxiety-induced panicking, violence

“One, two, three!” Alex counted down with his sticks before the band all kicked in together to play another number. They had managed to get a couple gigs and he’d really tried to bring in some excitement for them. At this point, though, his body was merely going off muscle memory while his mind wandered away from the song. Since everything that had gone on recently, he could feel a great difference in his ability to even focus on playing, let alone enjoy any of it. It was still possible, but he knew, and he knew everyone else knew, that the same passion he put into it had changed. He desperately tried paying attention to Luke’s voice as he realized he was staring blankly into a crowd he could barely see.

“Hear the noise in my head, it’s calling out like a voice I can’t forget…”

That line hadn’t stuck out to him before, but suddenly Alex was imagining Willie’s voice in his mind. I told you I missed you. He should’ve been able to see it. In the way he’d been so withdrawn, the way he’d moved like there was more than just the weight of being tired, but especially the intensity of that last kiss. Alex had spent the rest of that day grinning inwardly believing he had the silliest, most romantic boyfriend ever. All of that had been an attempt to telegraph the truth and he hadn’t understood the message. 

“Don’t look down ‘cuz we’re still rising up right now...and even if we hit the ground...we’ll still fly, keep dreaming like we’ll live forever but live it like it’s now or never…”

He’d nearly missed the chorus. Come on, Alex, be in the present. He could be okay as long as he still had his friends. Kicked out of the house? Now he didn’t have to deal with his parents. Homeless? Victoria was letting him stay with her out of the sheer goodness of her heart. Their first album not likely to work out? They could still play. Alex had to try to remember the bright side. Willie would want him to keep seeing the bright side. Thinking of Willie should’ve been able to help him get through anything.

Both Reggie and Bobby were staring at him as they played and Alex realized that he’d been forgetting his harmonies and had just missed a solo line. Catching eye contact with both, they pushed right through it and he cast his eyes downward in embarrassment. Why couldn’t he focus? They were in the middle of a gig for goodness’ sake. The guys were counting on him.

Even as he played the final beats of the song, Alex could feel the nerves begin taking over and his hands shook. The feeling settled into his chest, and while his three friends met the crowd with arms raised in celebration, he couldn’t find the strength to move. Suddenly the lights seemed to be too bright and the sounds around him mashed together into muddy nonsense. Only rattled breaths released from his lungs. Not again. Not this shit again.

“Uh…thank you so much everyone, we’re Sunset Curve!” Luke was saying into the mic. All the guys were glancing at Alex in concern. All Alex could feel was a cold numbness slowly spread through his body before he could begin to think. Then the lights went low and he felt arms guiding him out of his seat toward a direction he couldn’t really sense. It seemed like everything but his heartbeat had fallen asleep.

“Stay with us, Alex,” he heard Bobby muttering, and he guessed they were somewhere backstage. The only thing Alex could stand to pay any attention to was how violent the shakes had become regardless of how lifeless he felt elsewhere.

“I’m cold…” he managed to whisper.

“Here,” Reggie pulled off his leather jacket and laid it over Alex’s torso and the warmth was somewhat comforting.

“Reggie,” Luke was saying. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but do you have anything you can do out there on the acoustic?”

“I do, but they’re my country songs.”

Sighing, Luke shook his head.

“Okay, well just…just give ‘em your best shot. Tell ‘em it’s something new, that’ll liven them up.”

Alex could barely keep his eyes open so he could only hear footsteps moving closer or further away from him as he sat listening to his pulse pound around his head like a ricocheting bullet. After a couple minutes he heard Reggie’s voice and more cheers from the crowd, and felt a piece of himself crack apart inside. He was letting his friends down now, too, and they were covering for him. Beyond his control, tears began streaming quietly down his face.

Bobby sat with him while Luke ran to find some water, but they remained in silence while Alex was all but nearly catatonic. This had happened numerous times during practices, but usually Alex didn’t have to worry about it on stage. Something like shame or guilt rose in his mind, and he knew that no matter how hard the guys tried to finish things off it had been obvious that he wasn’t fine. His friends hadn’t complained about it before, but already the things they could say began milling through Alex’s imagination.

“Alex,” Luke was saying as he knelt before him holding a bottle of water. “Need any help getting this down?”

Silently and slowly lifting an open hand, Alex watched Luke twist off the cap and place the bottle into his slightly curled fingers. The effort it took to raise it to his mouth and barely tip it upwards was ridiculous. An ugly voice in his mind seemed to be jeering at him for barely being able to manage. He handed the water back to Luke and the three of them sat quietly.

The tension was obvious, even as they all listened to Reggie try to win over the crowd with his impromptu set. Luke eventually let Alex keep the water to himself so he could take sips at intervals. While Alex’s body eventually returned to working order, he still felt a nasty pit in his stomach. How long was this going to last? All he could experience now was the undercurrent threat that some way or another he would suddenly lose everything he had left and he had little to no control over it. To him, it was just a matter of time before his panicking became too much and either he wouldn’t be able to get on stage at all or the guys wouldn’t want him to play with them anyway. He was too aware of the kind of patience they all had to employ when he got this way.

“How’re you feeling?” Bobby prompted.

Alex looked up and felt the guilt twist around like a knife in his gut.

“I ruined the set.”

“No,” Bobby waved off. “No, man, don’t worry about that. Are you good to like, stand up or anything?”

“I think so,” Alex said. He didn’t really feel like moving from his position, but it was probably for the best. Bobby got up first and extended a hand to help him onto his feet. He took a minute to be sure his stance was firm as Reggie finally came backstage again.

“I’d say they had mixed reviews,” he reported, letting the acoustic hang behind him and shuffling his feet. He shot a wide smile toward Alex. “I’m glad you’re upright again.”

Alex offered a half-hearted half-smile in return, to which Reggie immediately put an arm around his shoulder.

“We’ve got takedown handled,” Luke told him. “You just go ahead and rest up in the van, okay?”

Nodding, Alex went to take the passenger seat in the van. Later on, when the guys dropped him off at Victoria’s home, he made sure to enter as quietly as possible. She was back to working as usual now that Rose was in recovery, and he wanted to do everything possible to make his stay as convenient as he could. He owed so much to her and he never wanted her to spend more time than necessary worrying about him.

“How was the gig?” her voice echoed from inside the kitchen. Alex had never expected to dread being caught by someone who wasn’t mad at him about something. He peered into the doorway hesitantly to see her seated with a cup of tea. Upon entering, he was also surprised to see Julie sitting beside her. She was dressed in pajamas covered in dinosaurs and wearing her glasses, enjoying her own mug of hot chocolate.

“Hey, Julie,” he said, lifting his hand in a small wave.

“Hey, Alex,” she replied, returning his gesture with a smile.

Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket and slouching into the seat at the end of the table, he sighed.

“The gig was sort of a bust,” he said.

“Did something happen?” Victoria asked in concern. He only dared to glance up for a second, catching Julie’s expression as well and immediately refocusing his eyes onto a dent in the table. “I see. Would more hot chocolate help you feel better?”

Looking back up at her, he bobbed his head indecisively before it turned into nodding yes. Getting up from her chair, he watched Victoria fetch another mug and reheat what had already been prepared on the stove. A sliver of gratitude began to seep into his gloomy state. Amid all the chaos, he was learning to take her kindness more graciously. It was hard for him to trust adults, but the Molinas all seemed to make it easier to do, and that was a blessing.

“Was the show really that bad?” Julie asked.

Taking a moment to decide how he would properly sum things up, Alex took a deep breath while Victoria handed him his drink.

“Well…long story short, we resorted to having Reggie play his country songs.”

Victoria raised an eyebrow as she sat down and took a sip of her tea. “Ay, dios.”

Alex almost laughed. Julie grimaced.

“I mean, I like his songs, but Luke never lets him play any of them,” she said.

He merely bowed his head as he took a sip of hot chocolate and then continued to stare down into the frothy brown as though he could find whatever he needed in there. Disappointingly, it wasn’t the brown of Willie’s eyes.

“Well, I think I’m going to turn in,” Victoria said, breaking up the tension for a moment. “You don’t have a problem with my niece staying the night, do you?”

Alex shook his head, giving her a small assuring smile.

“Okay, kiddos, have a good night. If you need more pillows, preciosa, there’s some in the closet downstairs.” She kissed Julie on the head and then made out of the kitchen with the tea in her hand. Immediately, Alex seemed to relax a little more. Victoria was great with him, but he’d missed hanging with Julie. He could tell she was waiting patiently for him to speak on his own time and tried to figure out where to begin.

“Things keep changing,” he said after a long pause. “It’s all too much and too fast, and now it just feels like everything that can go wrong does go wrong.”

“And you’re afraid you’re going to lose everything good in your life?” Julie observed. He could see the sense of familiarity in her eyes and recognized the fear she had of losing her mom. She could definitely sympathize.

“There’s not much left for me,” he admitted. His hands remained resting around the mug but he no longer had any desire to finish his drink. Julie moved closer and put an arm around him, leaning onto his shoulder.

“We’re not gonna go anywhere, Alex,” she told him. “The band, Flynn, my family - we all care about you.”

Alex tilted his head so he could rest it on top of her curls. He could never replace Abby as a younger sister, but he would gladly welcome Julie as one he never had. Sitting together in silence, a bittersweetness passed between them that slowly transitioned into peaceful comfort. The small sliver of gratitude he’d felt earlier grew big enough to let him smile properly.

“You’re gonna think this is silly,” he said. “But now I have Yellow Submarine playing in my head.”

Julie sat up straight and gave him a goofy look as she chuckled and shook her head.

“That was a pretty good time,” she reminisced. Then her face went serious again. “I bet Willie misses you, too.”

Alex regarded her words thoughtfully. Even Julie associated him with Willie, although she’d barely known him. It kind of blew his mind how everyone saw the two of them together so naturally.

“Every day I think that if I just went back to Vegas, I could take him back,” he told Julie. “And I can get him out of Caleb’s hands for good.”

“When my mom was in the hospital,” Julie began saying. “One of the nurses that cared for her taught me something really important. She had lost a son a long time ago and she told me it was important to never forget. I know it probably sounds cheesy and not very comforting, but I think that’s the best thing you can do.”

It wasn’t something he wanted to admit, but she did have a point. The question was would he ever get over Willie? Would he ever get over the fact that they still hadn’t been able to do half of what they’d hoped, or that he was literally taken away and that’s the only reason they couldn’t be together? Those thoughts straddled the line between heartbreak and anger so much of the time, and in that moment the anger was overpowering.

“Thanks, Julie,” he said. “I think I’m gonna go to bed, too.”

Her hand rubbed along his back for extra comfort before she lowered it.

“Goodnight,” she murmured.

Alex poured what was left of his hot chocolate in the sink and rinsed out the mug before making his way to the room he’d been staying in. The anger had given him renewed energy, so he really wasn’t tired enough to sleep just then. He hadn’t wanted to bother Julie with it, though, since she was worried enough already.

As he lifted his hand to turn the handle to open his room, he saw a light on in another room he hadn’t ever seen occupied before. So Victoria hadn’t gone to bed. Curiosity arose and after debating whether he should ignore it or not, Alex dropped his grip on the door handle and went to knock. There was no response and after knocking a second time, he gently opened the door a few inches.

“Victoria?” he quietly muttered. He’d expected maybe she’d fallen asleep while doing whatever it was she did in there, but no one was inside. Opening the door wider, he took in a spectacle.

It looked like this was her home office, with a desk covered in numerous papers and files and shelves full of more folders. A large cork board was hung at the back with several images and paper clippings covering it and he saw that they were all connected with red string in some sort of web. Sticky notes with shorthand questions were placed by some of the images, but Alex didn’t bother to read them. Instead he looked at the center that all the red string pointed to and recognized the photo he’d seen so many months ago on the pier: the missing kid poster.

“Oh!” he heard Victoria behind him, chuckling nervously. “I never expected you to come in here!” She shuffled past him and began putting away several papers that had been strewn all over the desk.

“What is all this?” he asked.

“It’s just a side project,” she told him. He could tell he’d intruded on something she didn’t want to be seen. “I couldn’t seem to let go of this one, and I believe I’m close, but there’s still a lot of evidence missing.”

Alex only stared at the web.

“You started this because of me, didn’t you?”

Victoria sighed as she nodded and folded her arms. “Yes. And I’ll be very honest with you, there’s a great possibility that your theory was right. But understanding what I do about Caleb, it’ll be difficult to get more information if I tried seeing him again.”

Pausing his gaze on the poster, Alex couldn’t help the small hope that grew in his chest. Nothing was more tempting to him than helping her solve the case. He was no detective, he knew, but if neither him nor Victoria could sleep properly over this what were they waiting on?

“Could you get some kind of warrant or something?” he asked.

Chuckling softly, she shook her head. “When it’s not assigned, no. I’m basically doing vigilante work with this, so I’ve got to be careful. I only bother with it strictly between cases at work.”

“What about just talking to Willie, then?” Alex knew he was being desperate and a little pushy, but chances were chances. Victoria looked at him with a furrowed brow and pressed her lips together in serious thought.

“Well…” she lowered her gaze and unfolded her arms. “Getting his testimony would be a good idea, but it won’t immediately solve everything.”

It was a good idea, though. Alex could feel himself jumping from whatever ledge he’d been standing on and clinging to the rope he’d just been given. This was the only way he believed he could feel peace again. Even if at the end of it all they were both wrong and he had to accept the facts, knowing he’d tried everything would be enough. Then maybe he could take Julie’s advice and not be filled with so much anger. He was still staring at the missing kid’s poster.

“Alex,” Victoria was saying to him. “I think for now we should both get some rest. You’ve had a lot going on tonight.”

Feeling gravity pull him back onto the ground, he sucked in a breath at hearing her words.

“Yeah,” he nodded, albeit absent-mindedly. “Yeah, we should.”

Victoria turned off the light and shut the door behind both of them as he headed back to his room. Changing and laying down in his bed, Alex was pretty sure he wouldn’t get any proper sleep after the night he’d just had. What if they did solve the case together? What would they discover? Maybe he was being presumptuous, but he didn’t care. After everything he’d been through, he deserved to suspend reality, or maybe even bend it to his will.

“Alex,” Victoria’s voice could be heard in his room. “Alex! Despiértate!”

Groggily opening his eyes, he saw the woman standing over his bed, desperately trying to jostle him awake. He could tell that it was late morning by the light from outside, but it was the weekend so he wasn’t sure what she was trying to wake him for.

“Levántate, levántate!” Victoria repeated, clapping her hands.

“What is it?” he groaned in confusion. Had she lost her mind? He couldn’t even understand what she was saying.

“We’re leaving!” she exclaimed.

Sitting upright, he continued to look at her, puzzled.

“What?”

“I said we’re leaving, get ready!” she repeated, gesturing vaguely. At his continued bewilderment, she put her hands on her hips. “We’re going to Las Vegas, chico, now get ready before I change my mind!”

Scrambling to get out of his bed, Alex moved as quickly as he could to throw on some clothes and then rushed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He hadn’t been sure if Victoria would want to do anything so soon because she’d seemed so hesitant, but this was the best surprise he could’ve gotten. He could hear her speaking with Julie from across the house, organizing anything she wanted to bring with her. How long did she expect them to stay there? A couple days? He didn’t wait to find out; he just emptied his backpack of all his homework and threw in as much as he could fit. It was better to not need anything than be unprepared.

Alex entered the kitchen with his things and found Julie eating a peanut butter sandwich with a big smile on her face.

“What’s that look for?” he asked.

“I’m just excited for you!” she said.

“You’re not coming along?”

“No,” Julie sighed. “I have other stuff going on. But I really hope whatever happens, you get to be happy again.”

The warmth smile that grew on his face was impossible to stop.

“Thanks, Julie,” he said softly.

“Okay!” Victoria came in carrying her purse and keys. “We have a long way to go and a lot to do, so vamonos!”

Heaving his bag, Alex understood that to mean they were leaving and went toward the car.

“Te quiero mucho sobrina; te llamo luego!” Victoria called back to Julie before climbing inside and starting the ignition.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Alex put on his seatbelt and looked over at Victoria.

“So what’s your plan?” he wondered.

She put on a pair of sunglasses and looked over at him with a smirk before turning her eyes back to the road and pulled away from the house.

They checked into a hotel that was different from the one Alex had stayed in before - probably for the better - and then Victoria took him to a men’s tailoring shop first. She had explained everything she knew about Caleb’s club to him, that he’d sold the other businesses, and they had discussed how they still might get to Willie.

“Why did you bring me here?” he wondered, standing in the middle of the store looking at a bland selection of blacks and grays.

“Because his club is fancy and you would stick out like a sore thumb if you went in that ripped jacket,” Victoria had told him, already looking through a rack.

“But I’m not even going with you tonight.”

“Tonight, no,” she said. “But what I’m hoping for when I go and play like I’m the usual guest is to talk to some of the other people working in the club. Depending on if they know anything, they can help us get to Willie. If they do, we can meet Willie tomorrow, I’ll get his testimony and maybe even a peek at his foster care record, and then we’ll go there together and stick it in that horrible man’s face.”

Alex raised his eyebrows in slight surprise at how invested Victoria was with this.

“Besides, you boys deserve to have a night where you both look fancy,” she added.

Sticking his tongue in his cheek, Alex suppressed a self-conscious chuckle as she grabbed a pair of pants and a jacket and held them up to him. It felt strangely like the many times he’d been taken shopping with his mom, but Victoria actually agreed with him when he said he didn’t like how he looked.

After trying on a few combinations, he stood in a black velvet suit that he couldn’t decide on. The velvet was nice, but it was just…too black. The shirt underneath, however, complimented him well. He turned away from the mirror and looked at Victoria’s expression to see what her reaction was. Instead, his eyes settled onto a sale rack that sat in a less conspicuous spot in the store. Crossing over to it, he pulled off a light pink satin jacket with black lapels and smiled. Slipping off the velvet one he was wearing and throwing it on, he adjusted it for Victoria to see.

“Well, he certainly can’t miss you in that,” she told him, impressed as she nodded in agreement to his taste. “Is this the final thing?”

Smiling and getting every angle of himself in the mirror, Alex didn’t take his eyes away from his reflection.

“Yeah.”

Just as the sun was going down Victoria headed out and Alex could take care of his part. Their first plan was her chatting up the club staff, but he’d proposed they kill two birds with one stone. Navigation wasn’t exactly his forte, so it took some time to find it, but at last he came upon the bodega that Willie had taken him to.

He hesitated before opening the door, remembering the last time he’d come and how fresh all his feelings for Willie had been at the time. Taking a small glance at the table that was still stationed out front, he could already picture himself sitting and tapping his drum sticks while Willie simply listened, completely at leisure. Swallowing, he opened the door and stepped inside.

“Hello!” a familiar voice called from behind the counter. He was wiping it down with a rag, not really paying any mind. Alex tried to recall his name, but he really couldn’t remember.

“Hi,” he waved nervously to him as he approached the counter. There was a noticeable absence and Alex realized that Sheldon was probably with Willie this time instead of staying in the bodega.

“Aaaaah!” the man said with sudden recognition. “La cara de fresa!”

Alex only nodded, trying not to blush in embarrassment at still not knowing what that meant.

“El mismo rubio, Alex,” The man continued. “You come to Escobar to look for Willie?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, impressed with his memory. “Has he been here since he came back?”

“Oh yeah,” Escobar nodded, immediately getting more serious and continuing to clean the counter. “He never stopped liking you; I thought he was crazy. But lately I haven’t seen him.”

“You haven’t seen him?” Alex repeated. He didn’t like the sound of that. Since Escobar was the only person Alex knew in Vegas that had been friends with Willie, he’d hoped he could get intel if Victoria wasn’t able.

"That's right, amigo. He was coming in every day, just like always, and then pum,” he gestured his hands to mimic disappearing. “Nothing.”

“You haven’t heard anything from him?”

“Nada.”

Looking down at where his hands sat on the counter, Alex couldn’t help but feel disheartened.

“Listen,” Escobar said, causing Alex to look back up. “I know Willie is good, but he is always in a bad situation. You better be careful.”

If only Escobar knew how bad it really was. Alex merely nodded and lifted his hands off the counter.

“Thank you anyway,” he said. “I hope he turns up.”

“Me too,” the man offered. “Toda la suerte.”

Sighing, Alex left the bodega. The only other place he knew he might find Willie was at the top of the Stratosphere. Hoping to see him there was more of a gamble than Alex really wanted to make, but he didn’t feel like he had options. Besides, they had left his suit at a cleaner and he could pick it up on the way.

Wandering through the streets, ideas kept coming to mind about the miraculous event that he did find Willie. He could picture those sweet brown eyes locking onto him and imagine the surprise and the shock. He could feel the rush and the swell of some climactic music somewhere as they would run into each other’s arms and hold on so tightly. The thought of pressing his face into Willie’s long, soft hair made him hope for it more than he could bear. When did he develop such an imagination?

Once he had the suit, he hung the garment bag over his shoulder and looked up to see how close the Stratosphere was. It was quite a walk, but he also saw that it wasn’t worth leaving the suit at the hotel first, considering what time it was at night.

Suddenly, Alex felt a chill run down his spine, and the thought occurred that he was just some kid walking through the streets of Vegas by himself. That normally wouldn’t have bothered him, but in that moment he definitely did not feel alone. Slowing his pace and surveying the street carefully, he didn’t see anything or anyone that raised his suspicion. The fear felt uncharacteristic - he could handle himself, especially since he grew up in L.A.

As a precaution, he moved to a side street. It wasn’t entirely a failsafe, since Alex was sure he was only going to get more lost, but he had to try. However, the feeling didn’t subside and even with a thinner crowd, he still saw no one on the street that could possibly be targeting him. Looking up at the buildings surrounding him, he spotted the Stratosphere still several blocks away and decided to set aside the paranoia and take a more direct course.

Standing at a crosswalk and waiting for the light to change, he tried to calm his nerves by taking in a deep breath and focusing on what was around him. It wasn’t until he laid eyes on the car nearest to him that Alex recognized it as the same one he’d seen outside the studio numerous times and realized where that warning sensation had come from. Ignoring the rest of traffic, he broke into a full sprint, hearing the screeching of tires as the car sped into gear and followed him. How the hell had he been found?

He tried to dart into narrower streets, pretending not to hear the distinct sounds of the engine as it detoured around and appeared less than fifty yards away at every turn. Running with the garment bag was extremely inconvenient, and only made his panic even worse. Running at all when his pursuer was in a car was, of course, futile but Alex hoped he could somehow get away.

Blindly turning down another alley, he found himself at a dead end. Facing back the way he came, the car parked right along the outlet, blocking him in. The door opened and he watched Caleb step out of the vehicle, hands held behind his back and slowly closing the distance between them.

“I had a feeling from the day I saw you talking to Willie at my diner that you would be a problem,” he began saying. “It only confirmed my theory when that woman Victoria showed up at my club asking questions. And when I took Willie back with me I believed it was only a matter of time before you came to steal him away yourself. So how funny is it that I saw her coming back into my club, and here you are sneaking around?”

“Fuck you! None of us should’ve ever trusted you,” Alex spat at him.

Caleb simply continued approaching, his menacing glare sending chills down Alex’s spine tenfold.

“None of you should’ve ever crossed me,” the man sneered.

Still shivering from intense fear, Alex dropped the garment bag and held up both of his fists. He’d wanted to try his right hook on Caleb for so long and no matter how terrifying the odds were it was probably his only shot. Caleb merely chuckled.

“Oh, I don’t do fist fights,” he said with unnerving calm. His hands moved from the position behind his back, revealing his grip on a wooden bat. Alex’s eyes widened in terror, but before he could ready himself for defense he received two blows to the stomach, knocking him to the ground. Struggling to breathe, he saw Caleb turn the bat and then felt a blow land on the side of his head, and everything immediately went black.

[magnoliabloomfield]

Possession 13

Nikola spent a lot of time in her room until her period was over, the boys were just too loud even when they didn’t mean to be annoying, and she was still a bit too embarrassed to face Gally. Not only had he helped her clean the blood from her sheets while he was shirtless, she’d also made that weird, hormonal declaration to him from her balcony. But she wouldn’t take it back either because it was true, Gally was just about the sweetest person in existence even if he did have a hardened exterior, or didn’t express himself with tremendous amounts of warmth. The things he did were always just right in his own unique way.

The attention most boys gave her felt meaningless since she was the only girl. It was hard to feel special without other options to be chosen from. Did they like her personality? Did anyone like her with their brains or their heart, or just their hormones?

She wanted to think Gally cared for her beyond the superficial, but she feared the day another girl would show up that he might like better than her, or they got out and there were so many to choose from, what if he didn’t really want her but was settling because she was all there was? But that’s how life was. A small world with one girl and one Gally.

She was supposed to work on some mending that day and went to Gally’s work bench for a pair of scissors. He wasn’t anywhere in sight even as she scanned extra hard for him. She did notice Shawn looking her way and quickly averted her gaze. She grabbed the scissors and looked for a scrap of paper to leave a note on. Gally didn’t like his things going missing, so she was going to let him know she had them and where she’d be if he really needed them back. As she searched she noticed something.

Moving some things out of the way she saw drawings, somewhere between a sketch and a doodle, and it was all of her. She was shocked at how good the drawings were, but even more shocked by how beautiful the artist seemed to think she was. She’d caught some glimpses in rusty mirrors and still water, she didn’t really look that good. She couldn’t fool herself, this was Gally’s table, Gally’s stuff, so it had to be Gally’s drawings. Honestly if he saw one of his builders doodling away he wouldn’t stand for it or keep it around.

She bit back a huge smile before she covered it back up and looked around for his to-do list, maybe that would tell her where to find him. But what would she do when she found him? Say ‘hey, I saw your drawings of me,’ …then what? She just wanted to see him, just be around him, even without a reason. When she did find him he was in the dead heads with the other builders looking for any trees that could come down, or branches for fires or tools. He was busy and there was no privacy, she couldn’t play off going to see him as anything but going to see him just because she wanted to.

~~~

At dinner Gally got a huge surprise. Nikola was sitting at his usual table. It felt like his heart did an extra big thump when he saw her there in the evening glow. He saw Newt make a dash for the table as fast as his limp would let him, looking ready to be entertained by Gally who he claimed was ‘totally whipped’, whatever that meant. They were saying hello to each other as Gally sat down across from her.

“Hey,” she greeted him with a smile in front of all the other boys. “Did you get my note about borrowing your scissors today?”

“Yeah, I did,” he nodded, glancing at Newt who was watching them like they were a compelling tennis match. “Thanks for putting them back.”

“I saw your sketches,” she said innocently enough but there was flicker in her eyes that made him freeze.

The sketches. The sketches of her, she saw them, oh crap.

“They’re really good, I think you could make a perfect greenhouse if you had the glass for it,” she went on, but her eyes told him she wasn’t really talking about the greenhouse. Strange too was that she didn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.

Gally swallowed despite not having taken a bite of food yet. “Thanks. I like to plan ahead for future possibilities.”

“You never planned for this possibility,” Newt smirked as he pointed at Nikola.

Gally shrugged. “You can’t plan for everything.”

“Very true,” Newt admitted. “I mean, you were quite worried about the effects a girl in the glade might have, but nothing terrible has happened yet and you seem to get along thick as thieves.”

Gally gave Newt a hard stare.

“He does like to keep the chaos organized, doesn’t he?” Nikola conspired with Newt, a well meaning tone in her teasing. “Honestly, what would you do without him?”

“Better question is what you’d do without him,” Newt countered. He had spent enough time with her to realize who she fancied, no matter how stoic and subtle she tried to be.

“Oof,” she got a thoughtful look on her face. “Well, I’d be homeless.”

Newt laughed and even Gally cracked a smile.

“I might be under someones thumb, too,” she went on. “Without Gally advocating for me to get on the council. I wouldn’t have my swing!”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” Newt said looking right at Gally with an almost taunting grin.

“But all that sounds pretty terrible,” she waved it off. “It’s not just about the things Gally has done for me, or what I’ve gotten from him. He’s my best friend.”

“Is he now?” Newt asked in surprise that sounded more genuine than teasing. Meanwhile Gally could feel that he had gone absolutely, unsubtly red.

“He is,” Nikola smiled, looking at Gally as she answered Newt’s question, watching him adoringly as he bashfully avoided her gaze with red cheeks and ears as he pushed food around on his plate.

“I have bad news for you, love,” Newt sighed. “Gally’s best friend is me. Isn’t that right, Gally?”

Gally looked at him with one raised brow but didn’t say anything which Newt found very amusing in itself. But then Newt gave a sigh as if the fun was over.

“I know it’s- well actually I can only try to imagine how hard it is for you being the only girl here, and how there are so many normal and fun things you should be able to do… but this place is anything but normal. I get it, I don’t mind the fun and the teasing, but there are some who might. I know it’s not fair, but try to be a bit more careful. I really would hate to see either of you get hurt if someone got the wrong idea.”

Nikola looked thoroughly chastised even though Newt had spoken so soft and kindly.

“Right. You’re right,” she nodded as she looked down at her lap and bit her lips. She looked back up with just a ghost of the smile she was wearing before. “I guess I got away from myself there. I’ll have to work on that.”

Gally felt his heart sinking in his chest. He knew Newt was right but he didn’t want her to become reserved and shy away from him just to try and keep peace with some jealous shanks. She’d done all this just because she had seen his sketches of her, had he made her that happy to begin with?

“I guess I’ll go ahead and turn in then,” She said with a shine to her eyes that he hadn’t seen on her before, but he recognized it still because even boys cried.

She said goodnight and took her plate to the kitchen before heading to her house without looking back. It was all going on behind Gally’s back and he couldn’t look at her without making it obvious, but he watched Newt watching her, his longer hair hiding his gaze from others around him.

“I’ve gotten it all wrong haven’t I?” Newt sighed after Nikola disappeared from his view.

“How’s that?” Gally asked, suddenly not so hungry anymore.

“I think you’re the one who has her wrapped around your finger,” Newt clarified making Gally blush again against his will.

“I don’t,” Gally tried to argue quietly and just earned a disbelieving look.

“You best be very careful,” Newt warned. “No one says anything around you because they know you’re protective of her, and you can beat them to a bloody pulp, but there are some boys who would be very sore if she was taken. I know you can take anyone one-on-one but I don’t know if you could take them all at once, and I’m afraid it could come to that.”

“Who is saying what about Nikola?” Gally demanded.

“Oh god, it’s mutual pining,” Newt sighed to himself tiredly as he rubbed his face. “I’m not going to tell you that because you can’t act like you don’t know and you’d end up in trouble any way. For her sake and yours just tread carefully.”

“I don’t want things to go backwards. She trusts me, she knows I’d do anything to protect her,” Gally spilled without meaning to.

“If you’re willing to do anything than do this, just back off a bit when others are around,” Newt suggested.

When Gally didn’t say anything to that Newt just shrugged and took his dishes back to the kitchen. Gally sat there at his table alone, deep in thought and murky, unhappy feelings. He stayed there so long, Fry came over himself to take his dishes to the wash. He sat there till all the others had gone to bed, knowing his thoughts would keep him awake anyway.

~~~~~

A few days passed where Nikola and Gally did the last thing on earth they wanted to do and kept their distance most of the time. But when they did get a chance to interact they both made an effort to subtly assure the other that it wasn’t personal, that nothing had changed between them.

Nikola was sitting up in her house with various scraps of things arranged on her floor and was figuring out how to recycle them into something useful when Newt called up to her. She went out on her balcony and frowned when she saw his face.

“I need you to come with me,” he said apologetically. “It’s a gathering… of sorts.”

Her heart plummeted. She was shaking as she tried to go down her ladder and it made it difficult. She didn’t say anything as she walked with Newt, her mind racing with so many things at once and her stomach feeling twisted beyond untangling.

When she stepped inside she saw Alby, Gally, and Shawn. She narrowed her eyes slightly at the latter even though she was trying very hard not to give any of her emotions away. Gally didn’t seem happy with him either and Alby just looked completely impatient. Nikola just looked at him, not willing to say a word until she knew what was going on.

Alby reached out and handed her a piece of paper. “Did you write this?”

She looked at him doubtfully as she plucked the paper from his hand and then looked down to read it, immediately seeing it was not her handwriting before she took in what it said. “No, not my handwriting,” she said quickly and passed it back.

“Read it, will you?” Alby said as he pushed it back.

She sighed but complied.

“It’s time for me to wash my sheets, why don’t you come and help me get them real good and dirty first? It was so fun last time.”

She hid her disgust and tried to morph it into confusion instead. She looked at the boys standing around her. “What the shuck does that mean?” she asked Alby like it was Greek to her.

“Shawn says he saw you and Gally washing your sheets very late one night, and Gally wasn’t fully dressed. Said you seemed very… close,” Alby explained, glancing at Shawn who had clearly orchestrated this whole thing.

“And the first conclusion you jumped to was that we were screwing?” She asked Shawn directly, as flat as possible. “No wonder you faked a note, if that’s all you’ve got to support that theory.”

“She didn’t deny it,” Shawn pointed out smugly to Alby.

“Right, because I was up late one night, I was washing my sheets, and Gally was helping me,” She admitted easily. “That all happened because I started my period in the middle of the night and had to clean blood off myself, my clothes, and my sheets before the stains set.” Everyone but Gally looked uncomfortable as soon as she said period. “And before he tells you he saw me write this note to Gally, I did write Gally a different note about taking the spare scissors when I did the mending. I can get the med journal and show you an example of Shawn’s hand writing and my own if you want, but Newt also heard me talk to Gally about the scissors that day as well.”

Newt nodded to that and Alby threw an unhappy glare at Shawn’s now pale and unamused face. “I think we’re good here, you two can go,” He said to her and Gally, his gaze still fixed on Shawn.

Gally had fixed Shawn with a glare of his own and didn’t seem to be going anywhere, even as Nikola headed toward the door.

“Gally,” Newt said with a warning tone.

Gally let his arms uncross themselves slowly, eyes fixed on Shawn for as long as he could before walking away and following Nikola out the door.

She was out there squinting in the sun waiting for him.

“At least that was easy right?” she commented as they fell into step with each other. “I know that means it’ll only be worse the next time though. I’m sorry Gally-“

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” He blurted, some of his anger at Shawn coming out in his tone with her. He stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath to calm down, then looked up to see her anxious face staring up at him. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he repeated more softly, “And neither do I. He’s an idiot, and I don’t care what else he does, you’re my friend and I’m yours and I won’t allow any amount of childish jealousy to change that.”

His fists were clenched and his heart pounded in his ears. Nikola’s eyes were wide and he saw her swallow before she nodded vigorously.

“Yeah, absolutely,” she agreed. “Same here.”

Neither of them realized what it would take to keep that promise to each other.

Masterlist

@frequentlychangingfandoms @quackquackbi @poulterjonas @crazysheeplyca @pre-google @gladerscake @neilox @thesuitkovian @carp3d1em @cottoncandy-dreamxd @emilyhadenbaker