#*glances at my timeline* i should probably explain that one day

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter XX.

GIF by bestintheparsec

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: The night of the ritual.

WORD COUNT: ~9.1k

RATING: 18+ Explicit topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: dead dove: do not eat!, kidnapping, mc is held hostage, allusions to SA (nothing explicit. will be explained later on), hallucinations, humiliation, wound care, hurt/no comfort, crime thriller vibes are vibing, demon worship, cult ritual, supernatural elements, non-consensual drug use, angst, whump, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i'm missing any other tags please let me know.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: i’m going to hold y’all’s hand when i say this... i am putting paloma through it 😓 i was initially going to just bang everything out and post it in one big chapter, but as i was writing... i just felt like it would be better if we let the suspense of it all do its thing and end with a cliffhanger. i am a sucker for ‘em, even if they’re so frustrating (in the best way possible) 😭 i hope that all the lore revolving the cult has been concise and strong enough to hold up during the ending bit of this. i wish i could say things are going to get better from here but they’re not… they’re actually going to get worse 🤠 as always, feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or on ao3. i'd really appreciate it 🖤

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When ten minutes pass, Javier brushes it off. She’s probably just caught up in something. It’s nothing to worry about.

But when twenty minutes roll by, that’s when the unease creeps in. He starts pacing the living room, fighting the urge for a cigarette, glancing at the clock.

Where is she?

By the time half an hour has come and gone, he’s dialing the library, wondering why Paloma hasn’t come home yet. The phone rings and rings, but no one picks up. His stomach tightens, and he wills himself to remain calm. She’s probably fine.

At the hour mark, Javier’s behind the wheel, speeding into town. Maybe she’s still upset from the argument they had earlier, and instead of coming home, she went to Tammy’s.

But when Tammy tells him she hasn’t heard from Paloma for a few days now, a knot twists in his chest.

Panic threatens to take hold, but he pushes it down. He can’t let it consume him—not yet. Not until he has a real reason to worry.

But she has that damn habit of disappearing to sulk in random places when she’s upset. And that habit is gnawing at him now.

He drives to every spot he can think of, the abandoned tracks, the clearing behind the cemetery, the creek—but there’s no sign of her.

That terrible feeling grows, heavy and unshakable. He marches into the sheriff’s department, jaw set, not caring who sees the frantic look in his eyes.

He storms the file room, ripping through boxes. His hands tremble as he plucks out the file he’s searching for.

“Fuck!” He curses under his breath, jaw tightening as the photo of Paloma’s mother stares back at him.

Now, he has a reason to panic.

He should have known when he first laid eyes on it. The familiarity of her features—her eyes, her hair, her smile; it was all too close to Paloma. Too close to ignore. But he had, all because his mind was completely elsewhere at the time. Now look where that got him.

It’s like a scene from a horror film, where everything snaps into place too late.

The recent victims; brunettes in their mid-twenties with similar features, similar backgrounds—they resembled her.

The staged chamber, the gore, the man who killed himself.

All of it was leading to this, tying up the gruesome mystery with a neat little bow, like a gift Javier wishes he could burn. They had been played—manipulated, distracted from seeing the bigger picture.

Whoever orchestrated this whole thing has been after his girl from the very beginning.

He fights the urge to smash his fist into the nearest wall, to tear down every shelf in the room in a fit of blind rage.

But what would that solve? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Rage won’t lead him to her. Fear won’t undo what’s already been set in motion. All he can do is cling to hope, even if it’s slipping through his fingers.

The ultimate goal of this fucked-up cult—their twisted mission—is to birth the flesh reincarnate of their so-called, bullshit deity.

His blood runs cold at the thought of Paloma being used in some horrific ritual, being touched, violated, forced into madness.

He’s shaking, on the verge of a panic attack, his heart slamming against his ribcage like it’s trying to escape. But he forces himself to breathe—slow, deep, steady breaths, locking the perturbation away. 

Javier puts out an APB, his voice tight as he details her car, her appearance. Every word feels surreal, like it’s not really him saying it, like he’s watching someone else’s nightmare play out.

Romeo’s going to hear this, and he’s going to have to explain how they missed all the signs, how Paloma has been in danger this whole time.

The weight of it presses down on him like a thousand pounds of guilt.

Gathering what he needs and delegating some of the overnight officers at the station, he frantically drives to the Leighton house.

He’s already chain-smoked half a pack. That nasty habit he’s been trying to shake is clinging to him. The file in his hands feels too light for the bomb he’s about to drop.

How the fuck is he supposed to do this? How do you tell someone their wife’s past is tangled in a nightmare, and that their daughter—a woman they both love—is at the heart of it? How do you stay composed when you’re barely holding yourself together?

“Where the fuck is my daughter?”

Javier’s barely set foot out of his truck when Romeo’s fists twist in his shirt, shoving him hard against the vehicle.

The impact rattles through him, but all he can see is the wild, desperate look in the sheriff’s eyes—a terror that matches his own but runs even deeper, cutting into every line on his face.

“Romeo, listen to me!” Javier’s voice is authoritative, that familiar guarded wall of stoicism building as his trademark defense mechanism to the absolute anxiety that’s gnawing away at his body. “This is gonna be hard to hear—I’m barely making sense of it myself—but I need you to listen if we’re going to figure this shit out.”

Romeo’s grip tightens, then slowly loosens, and Javier seizes the moment, shoving the older man back, no longer giving a fuck about keeping the peace.

He yanks the folded photo from his jacket pocket and holds it up, letting him get a clear look. “Tell me. Is this Paloma’s mother?”

Romeo’s gaze flits to the photograph, and the recognition that floods his face is immediate.

His fingers snatch the photo from Javier, and his expression cracks, aging him in just a matter of seconds. “Where did you get this?” His voice is barely a whisper, “What the fuck is going on?”

Javier’s own dread deepens. “From the old files,” he says, voice hollow. “The ones from the original group. She’s connected to all of this. They both are.”

He takes a breath, then begins to explain everything he knows. He lays it out, bit by bit—the tangled web of what Paloma had uncovered, the twisted threads that pointed to this cult, the fake leads that had kept them chasing shadows. Every word feels like glass in his throat.

Confusion, fear, anger—every emotion etched on Romeo’s face makes Javier feel like he’s the one who has failed. 

“Did you know about any of this?” he asks, though he already knows the answer from the lost look in Romeo’s eyes.

His mouth opens, then closes. He seems to gather himself, shoulders dropping under a weight he’s only just begun to grasp. “None. When I met Abby… she was just a woman startin’ over. She’d moved into a small house near the church. Said her parents had passed and she needed a fresh start. Picked a random town—that’s how she ended up here.” The sheriff’s gaze drifts to a place Javier can’t reach, caught in the bittersweet memory of his late wife. 

“Paloma said she found this out by going through her mom’s things,” he says carefully, each word a stone dropping into his gut. “But I don’t think she was telling me everything.”

Silence stretches between them, heavy and loaded as they lock eyes in an unspoken understanding.

They need answers, and every second they waste is another second Paloma could be slipping further away.

“Before we make accusations,” Javier says, forcing himself to stay grounded, “we need to dig through their belongings. There has to be something there—a lead, a hint—something that’ll tell us who’s behind this.”

“But you already know who it is, don’t you?”

Javier’s eyes darken, and his jaw locks as one name barrels into his mind, clear and hateful: August.

The red flags he had dismissed, convinced they were just a byproduct of his hate for the guy, now stand out like beacons.

He meets Romeo’s gaze, a grim certainty settling into his features. “I believe it’s Augustus Dixon and his group.”

Romeo’s face twists with anger, and he grits out, “Motherfucker—” His fists clench, his whole body radiating fury.

“Be pissed off later. We’ve got a job to do.”

They stalk up the stairs, both men moving with purpose—Romeo heads for his wife’s things while Javier makes his way into Paloma’s room.

It feels surreal, even wrong, to be rummaging through her life like this. The last time he’d been in this position, it was in Jessica’s room, and even then he could see the resemblance her space shared with Paloma’s—but he’d never thought he’d be here, seeing his girl as a victim.

His fingers skim over a leather-bound book tucked away on the top shelf in her closet, hidden behind a jewelry box. It’s as if she’d placed it there purposefully, stowed away out of reach.

When he pulls it down, he realizes it’s a scrapbook brimming with photographs and clippings.

Inside, he finds images of Calmana, surrounded by groups of men and women, all dressed in matching, traditional attire. A towering cathedral looms in the background, religious iconography scattered throughout—symbols he now recognizes from his research.

Maps, faded with time, span several pages, and in the center lies an intricate, sprawling family tree with Paloma’s name written at the bottom.

He spots envelopes tucked between the pages, each one addressed to her in cursive hand.

He calls out for Romeo, and the sheriff is by his side almost instantly, his expression a twisted mix of hope and dread.

“What’d you find?” 

Javier silently hands him the scrapbook, keeping the envelopes for himself. 

One by one, he opens them, unfolding each paper. His breaths come out ragged, and he feels his stomach drop as he reads.

They’re love poems—explicit, filthy in their adoration. Line after line, they detail all the things August wants to do to her, each word penned with obsession.

The praises he lavishes on her, how he calls her a spectacle, the power he insists she wields—it’s like poison seeping into Javier’s mind. 

His hands start trembling, and the implications tighten around him like a noose.

Romeo, sensing his agitation, reaches out, his voice rough. “What’s that—what did you find?” 

Javier jerks the papers away, swallowing hard. “Trust me. You don’t want to see these—not now.”

“Let me see them, Javier! Goddammit, my daughter is in danger!”

Before their back-and-forth can spiral any further, Javier’s walkie talkie crackles sharply, an officer’s voice coming through:

“A dark green, 1970 Buick Electra matching the APB put out an hour ago has been found in Lake Fraiser alongside an unidentified female body.”

The air thickens and shatters as Javier and Romeo lock eyes, both of them wearing the same look of wide-eyed horror. 

“Romeo—” Javier tries, reaching out, but the man is already out the door, the scrapbook falling from his hands and hitting the hardwood floor with a hollow thud that reverberates in Javier’s chest.

He mutters a quick fuck and scoops it up, rushing after him, yet the sheriff is a blur, tearing down the driveway with the kind of desperation only a father can muster when everything he loves is on the line.

Now that he’s left alone, Javier grips the railing, and the weight of it all—of losing her—comes crashing down. His heart’s splintering, his chest tight, mind skidding out of control.

This is what he’s been running from all along—failure… loss… grief. Now it is all coming back, circling like vultures, ready to take the one thing that’s ever brought him true happiness.

But he forces himself to breathe, to anchor his mind to the one cold comfort he has left. “He wouldn’t kill her. He needs her.” The words taste bitter, chilling him, but they hold him steady.

Paloma is at the center of this plan—there’d be no sense in taking her, just to end it so abruptly.

Despite everything, he finds a sliver of reassurance in that cruel logic. He clings to it with everything he has, because right now, it’s the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

Javier pulls up to Lake Fraiser, where the scene is a flurry of first responders, flashing lights reflecting off the water’s dark surface in sharp reds and blues.

He parks haphazardly, barely cutting the engine before he’s out of the truck, heading straight toward the area cordoned off by yellow crime scene tape.

His heart slams against his ribs as he spots Romeo, kneeling by the edge of the lake beside a body draped in a white cloth, his face blank, almost empty.

Javier’s eyes dart to the surrounding officers, scanning each one, trying to get a read on the situation before he speaks.

“Is it her?” His voice breaks the stillness.

Romeo doesn’t look up, his gaze locked on the covered body. “…No.”

Relief floods through him, dizzying him for a moment before his gaze lands on a tow truck pulling Paloma’s car away from the scene. 

He clenches his jaw, forcing himself to swallow back the bitter uncertainty rising in his throat.

Romeo stands slowly, brushing the dirt off his hands, his expression hardening as he relays, “Just got a call from the hospital. Our girl from the woods finally woke up. Tonight of all nights.” He chuckles dryly. “Asked to speak with me specifically. So I’ll head that way tomorrow after she’s been stabilized properly… which means you’ll be in charge of all this.” He gestures around them vaguely.

The pulsing emergency lights cast fractured shadows over their faces.

“It’s best for you to step back momentarily. Clear your head. You’re too close to this,” Javier adds quietly, “She’s your daughter.” And while Javier is her lover and every inch of him is fraying at the edges for her, he understands that his pain won’t amount to the agony that Romeo is drowning in.

The sheriff’s silence stretches, words hesitating on his tongue, until finally, with a quiet confession, he murmurs, “I was too harsh on her. On you. I was an asshole, and if it’s any reconciliation—thank you for tryin’ to get her out of this shitty town.”

Javier’s caught off-guard but doesn’t show it, the self awareness on his behalf is appreciated. “I’d do anything for her.”

Romeo studies him for a moment, as if measuring the resolve behind his words, then he nods, his expression taut, “Gonna start combing through everythin’ back at the station. Probably call Olsen, see if he’s got any cameras ‘round the library so we can get a timeline goin’.”

These two men are similar in that regard, backing themselves into their jobs to mask the turmoil inside. They talk through some of the procedures before Romeo is pulled away by other officers, leaving Javier to handle things here.

He forces himself to switch gears, to summon every bit of authority he has left to do his job. He’s got a dead body to assess, a team to command, and then—then he’ll focus everything he’s got on finding Paloma.

Paloma stirs awake, the pitch darkness of the early morning pressing in from all sides.

She’s disoriented—a dull ache in her head and the sting of thick, abrasive rope biting into her wrists.

Her hands are suspended and bound above her, tethered tightly to an old, rusted pipe overhead, which creaks slightly as she shifts her weight.

She can feel the grit of dried blood matting her hair against her temple, the aftershock of Sloane’s vicious hit with the bat ringing sharp behind her eyes. Her boots are missing, leaving her barefoot against the cool concrete ground.

As reality sharpens around her, she realizes this isn’t a dream and it nauseates her, instilling panic in her heart.

She barely remembers the car ride or the way they dragged her down here, everything muddled from the hit she’d taken until she’d finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

Now, the throbbing intensifies as she tugs instinctively at the ropes, her wrists burning, but no amount of pulling loosens her bonds.

Frustration and terror mix, unwieldy coiling in her chest and tears sting at her eyes despite her attempts to fight them back. She doesn’t want to imagine what they plan to do to her.

She knows Javier and her father have to be looking for her. They must be tearing themselves apart with worry. She can almost hear her father’s harsh reprimands and Javier’s quiet, determined rage—they’re relentless when it comes to protecting her. 

They’ll find her. They have to.

The cellar door creaks open and she freezes, her pulse skittering as August, Sloane, and Gabriel descend the stairs.

The dim light barely touches their faces, but she doesn’t need to see them clearly to know what they’re capable of.

She tries to hold her head high, pushing back the tears, refusing to let them see the fear that’s boiling inside. She won’t give them that satisfaction, not if she can help it.

Their footsteps echo against the walls of the basement. August stops just close enough that she can feel his presence invading her senses, suffocating, his familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

“Good morning, P,” he drawls, voice dripping with the charm that managed to slither its way into her heart.

What she once found magnetic in him is now hollow, a mask that hides something so unfathomable. 

“Pretty nasty cut ya got there.” Sloane’s voice drips with fake sympathy. Her eyes glint with that special brand of cruelty she’d always kept hidden behind a guise of friendship.

The satisfaction in her tone is unmistakable, like she’s savoring every moment of seeing Paloma in such a vulnerable state.

The urge to spit in their faces, to lash out, is almost unbearable, but she remembers her daddy’s lessons, advising her to stay calm, to never let them know how afraid she really is.

Every word of advice he’d ever given her about self-preservation hangs heavy in her mind. 

She keeps her face blank, her mouth a hard line.

“Silent treatment, huh?” August steps closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. His fingers are inches from her forehead when she sees the sick satisfaction in his eyes, and she can’t suppress the involuntary grimace as his fingers hover over the gash near her forehead.

The moment of weakness feels like a win for him, his smile widening as he grazes her wound, pressing just enough to send a wave of pain radiating through her skull and a fresh stream of blood to trickle out.

Sloane watches her reaction, faux innocence weaving through her sneer. “You make for a pretty damn good damsel in distress. Thought you’d put up more of a fight, if I’m bein’ honest. You really disappointed me, doll face.”

Paloma’s grip tightens around the rope until her knuckles ache. She wants to tell her off, to fight and scream—but instead she just turns away, refusing to even look at them.

August’s hand cups her chin as he forces her to meet his eyes, eyes that once held promises of affection and loyalty now filled with something so dark and consuming.

His fingers dig into her soft skin. “I need you to look perfect, little dove. All stitched up and pretty.” His thumb trails along her chapped bottom lip. “Gabriel,” he calls, not even glancing back at the other man, “Tend to that. Tonight’s a big night, after all. Lots to prepare for.”

There goes that trepidation again. Her mouth twitches, half-ready to break her silence and demand to know just what the hell he’s talking about. But she’s already committed to keeping quiet.

Gabriel lingers behind them, shifting uncomfortably, the first aid kit clutched tight in his hand.

He doesn’t say anything, just stands there as usual, eyes flicking from Paloma to his partners, some part of him clearly unsettled yet too cowardly to intervene.

He’s her best shot of getting out of here, she just knows it.

“‘S’okay, you ain’t gotta talk,” August’s coos. “I actually prefer you like this—makes things a hell of a lot easier. The others…” He snorts, shaking his head.

How many other unfortunate women had been dragged down here, suffering at his hands?

“Too squirmy, too squeamish—like fuckin’ pigs.” His laughter is mirthless and Sloane joins in with loud, exaggerated snorts that mimic a pig’s squeal. The sound claws at Paloma’s ears.

There’s this twisted admiration in his stare as he studies her. “That’s why I knew I needed to have you. No one else on this planet holds a candle to the magic you have, Paloma. You should stop bein’ so scared and embrace it.” He murmurs, dropping his voice to a whisper.

His hand snakes down from her jaw, tracing her neck, lingering in an unsettling crawl between her breasts before settling at her hip.

His fingers dig in, and she flinches, her body stiffening in revulsion. He smirks at her reaction, savoring her discomfort like a fine wine.

“I’ll be back to check on you later, alright?” His tone is falsely tender. "Gotta make sure everythin’ is perfect. Can’t afford any fuck ups now—I’ve been way too patient for this."

He steps back at last, allowing Gabriel to shuffle forward with the kit in hand.

With a jerk of his chin, August motions for Sloane to follow him. She blows Paloma a mocking kiss and winks with a saccharine sweetness that really piles on the hatred that burns a little hotter for her specifically.

The heavy cellar door slams shut, casting them back into dim silence as the first pale light of dawn begins to creep through the basement windows.

Paloma’s heart pounds as their shadows disappear, leaving her helpless in the creeping morning light.

“What are you goin’ to do to me?” Her voice is hoarse, each word scraping her dry throat like sandpaper, but she can’t keep quiet now that they’re alone.

Gabriel wordlessly drags over a stool, placing the first-aid kit on top. He opens it, sorting through supplies as though she isn’t even there.

Paloma yanks at her restraints, the old pipe groaning in protest. “Fuckin’ say somethin’,” she snaps, anger edging her desperation. “It’s the least you could do—just… tell me.” She hates the pleading tone that slips through, the last thread of her control unraveling as she imagines what fate awaits her.

His gloved hands move to clean her wound, and she clenches her jaw against the sting, glaring at him as if she could force him to talk through sheer will. He’s careful and practiced, clearly having done this before.

“The Crimson Rite,” he mutters, brows furrowing as he concentrates, his voice a barely audible murmur. “It’s where the conception will happen… on the altar of incarnation.”

Paloma’s heart stumbles, her mind racing to piece together the fragments. “What the fuck are you even sayin’?” Her voice wavers, but there’s no denying the chill in her spine.

She knows what those words mean on their own, but together, they paint a picture she’d rather not face—the harrowing reality of how August truly plans on using her.

“August’ll explain,” he replies, brushing her off with the indifference of a man following orders. “He’s better at that shit than I am. I just do what he asks and stay outta the way.”

“Like a fuckin’ coward,” she spits.

The needle pauses, its sharp tip hovering an inch from her skin, and he raises his eyes. “You get all lippy with me, but keep your mouth shut around them? What, I ain’t intimidatin’ enough for you?” 

She holds his gaze, defiance simmering behind the exhaustion in her stare. “Nothing about you’s intimidatin’ enough to keep me from tellin’ you exactly what I think.”

His lips twist downward, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he resumes stitching, each tug at her skin rougher than the last. 

“At church that day, you were warnin’ me, weren’t you?” Her voice is barely a whisper, the memory of that awkward conversation rattling in her mind. “S’not too late, Gabe. You can still help me outta this… We both can be outta here ‘fore the sun comes up.”

There’s a lapse, just for a second, in his eyes—something she wants to believe is regret, a part of him she hopes she can reach.

The sliver of optimism she’s mustered might awaken that dormant part of him buried under layers of August’s bullshit and the bitterness life has forced him to swallow.

But he shakes his head slowly, avoiding her gaze as he finishes stitching her wound, his hands deft. “You don’t get it. Don’t matter if I do the right thing. He’d find us—he always does.” He sprays her wound with a numbing mist then covers it with a small gauze.

“He wouldn’t find us,” she insists, her voice fraying. “Daddy would protect us. He’d make sure we’re safe.”

He lets out a low, humorless chuckle. “Yeah? He promise you that or somethin’? ‘Cause from where I’m standin’, you don’t look all that safe.”

A bitter, frustrated cry escapes her as he begins to pack up his kit, her pleas bouncing off him like stones against steel.

“Please, Gabe, don’t leave me down here alone,” she chokes out, and the words twist something deep inside her, pulling her further into a desperation she’s been trying to keep at bay.

“Breakfast’ll be down in a few hours,” he mutters, almost as if talking to himself, keeping his voice low and detached. “Probably get you a shower at sundown so you ain’t all sweaty and grimy. Needs you all fuckin’ pristine.” The last words slip out like a hiss, a disgusted edge in his tone. “S’gonna be a long day for you down here. Scream all you want; ain’t nobody around worth a damn to hear it. You got a better shot at rubbin’ the skin off your wrists than gettin’ out of that rope.”

Paloma snaps, her control breaking in a flood of panic and fury as she yanks at her restraint, her wrists burning as she curses him, calling him every name her mind can summon.

The words pour out in a desperate torrent, trying to cut him, to provoke something human out of him, anything.

But he stays silent, barely flinching, his face a mask as he gathers his things, turning his back on her without a word. 

When the cellar door finally slams shut, it echoes through the basement, and her last shreds of resolve crumble as she sinks into sobs.

The thoughts come in fragments, jagged and bitter, cutting her deeper than any wound.

The way things were left with her father—how they’d argued and he looked at her with that final, dismissive silence, like she’d become a stranger for daring to chase her own life beyond their town.

The love that took root so unexpectedly, so completely with Javier. He came into her life at the perfect time, pouring a rare, tender kind of intimacy into her soul; the kind that made her feel seen for the first time in her life.

He was a good man who’d endured his own share of hardships —and she let their last conversation end in anger and frustration. She’s just like her father.

Perhaps if she had told him the full truth about how she came across her mother’s past, she wouldn’t be in this mess at all.

This mess—it’s her inheritance. Not a blessing like August wants her to believe, but a curse Calmana left behind, the forced sins of her mother she didn’t choose but can’t escape.

Her suicide is starting to make more sense.

It all makes her feel like a lamb at slaughter, her life never really hers, and now her blood and body are an offering to feed whatever he believes she’s meant to bring to life. 

The promise of an explanation later on hangs over her like a guillotine. Does she even want to know? Will it make a difference?

She got herself kidnapped by trusting them all, falling for August’s romantic words and impressive knowledge. All of his lies. She’d thought she was smart enough to see through him, to keep a grip on her own heart, and instead, she’d unknowingly let him manipulate her.

Sloane was right—she is the helpless damsel she always denied being, someone who hadn’t fought hard enough to save herself. 

Paloma has to believe she’s got people searching for her, that they’re smart enough, relentless enough to find her before night falls. She has to cling to that hope, however fragile, because right now it’s all she has.

Her cries fill the empty space around her until exhaustion claims her in silence.

The basement is her prison as the sun traces its lazy arc above.

The day drags on in a haze of stale air and the natural sounds of bugs chittering about. On occasion, she’ll hear people walk by or see their shadows through the small windows.

She's trapped here, the only visits marking the hours coming when Gabriel brings a bucket for her to relieve herself—like she’s some kind of animal—or sets down a tray of food she refuses to touch.

“You need to eat,” he says, setting the tray with her dinner on the floor. His hands working on cutting the thick rope binding her wrists, each tug and scrape freeing her a fraction at a time.

“What’s the point? M’gonna die anyway,” she mutters, exhausted but still pissed. “Won’t matter if I’ve got a full stomach or not.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not goin’ to die, Paloma. You’re too important to all this. How haven’t you realized that yet?”

“Oh, forgive me if I haven’t picked up on all your twisted bullshit,” she snaps. “You all speak in fuckin’ tongues and riddles. No one’s told me a damn thing that makes any sense.”

At last, the final fiber of rope snaps, and the weight drops from her wrists. She lets out a low, relieved sigh as her arms fall to her sides, stiff from the hours of suspension.

The ache in her shoulders is intense, and her wrists are lined with red from the coarse bondage.

“Don’t try anythin’ stupid,” he warns, his voice low. “They might not kill ya but they’ll hurt you in ways that’ll make you wish you were dead.”

She doesn’t doubt it, so she reins in her impulses and instead glances at the food, the bitterness slowly giving way to resignation.

If the chance to escape comes, she’ll need her strength. She takes the cup, drinking greedily, barely noticing the water spilling down her chin—it’s just a relief to feel the dryness ease, something grounding in a nightmare that feels endless.

The meal tastes dull, but she swallows it down anyway, each bite a fight to hold onto her sense of self, to stay sharp.

Gabriel watches her with that quiet, unreadable expression.

“I tried leavin’ years ago, when August first started buildin’ the group.” He looks down, his mouth pressing into a grim line. “But he caught me at the train station. Gave me the ass-beatin’ of my life. Locked me up in a shed in the middle of the woods for days, left me there until I learned my lesson. I swear, I lost every bit of myself in that dark place.” His voice lowers to a whisper. “After that, I never thought ‘bout leavin’ again... not until he got his sights set on you.”

Paloma’s chewing slows, her eyes flitting over to him, reading the conflict etched in his expression.

For August to treat Gabriel, his so-called “brother,” with such brutality to keep him in line... it makes all too much sense now, why he is August’s silent shadow, obeying every command.

“His obsession with you is different. Everythin’ suddenly became different. He has this way of makin’ you submit to him that gets me wonderin’ if all this Eurynomos shit is actually real.”

The twisted loyalty, the deep-seated fear that’s tangled around them like shackles, intertwined with stories of divinity.

She’s barely scratched the surface of what August is capable of.

“That’s terrible,” she whispers, sympathetic to what he’s been through. “I’m sorry... ‘n I get why you’re scared, but there’s two of us now. We could make a run for it, slip away while we have the chance.”

Her food is forgotten as Paloma edges closer, her gaze steady and imploring. For a moment, he genuinely considers their escape.

But the heavy, thunderous creak of the cellar doors breaks through the moment, both of them jerking apart.

She scrambles backward until her back presses against the cold, damp wall, her heartbeat racing as Gabriel stands abruptly from his stool, his face hardening again. 

It’s only August this time, his usual shadow—Sloane with her biting sneers—thankfully absent.

He strides down with a bag in one hand and shower supplies in the other, eyeing her like she’s some prized possession he’s been itching to inspect. 

“Unrestrained, ate her dinner, and didn’t even try to run? My, my. Little dove, you’re such a good girl.” He passes the items to Gabriel as he steps closer, and she hates the way she’s wedged in a corner, wishing she could melt into the wall or skitter away like a mouse.

He crouches, gently moving the gauze out of the way, his sharp gaze examining the stitches worked into her head wound. “S’lookin’ better already. Now, let’s get you a shower. I can smell you from here, and, sweetheart, it’s not exactly appealin’.”

“Fuck you.”

He smirks, the cruel curve of his lips almost congratulatory. “There she is. Glad to see that fire hasn’t died just yet, my love.”

With a vice-like grip, his hand latches onto her arm, dragging her up to her feet and across the basement to a sad excuse for a shower—no curtain, nothing remotely resembling privacy, just exposed plumbing and mildewed tile. He shoves her into the cramped space, gesturing at her with a command that chills her: “Strip.”

Her stomach tightens, and she squares her jaw. “Turn around.”

A laugh bursts from him, sharp and mocking. “You think you’re in any position to make demands? You may be special, darlin’, but that don’t mean you’re runnin’ shit. Now strip, or I’ll tie you up and rip that little outfit off myself.”

She grits her teeth, fists clenched. “No.”

His smile vanishes, replaced by a darker, crueler expression.

In a flash, his hand is around her throat, shoving her harshly against the slimy tile, the back of her head meeting the hard surface making her cry out in pain.

Her breath snags as his grip tightens around her neck, the cool press of a switchblade grazing the scar on her hip, making her pulse hammer in her ears. “Don’t push me,” he growls, the blade’s edge nicking her skin just enough to sting. He knows exactly where she’s sensitive, and he revels in her flinch. “I’ve told you—I don’t like hurtin’ you, but I will if I have to. Strip. Now.”

He releases her, the air rushing back into her lungs, making her cough.

Her hands tremble as she peels away her clothes, starting with the long, flowing skirt that puddles around her ankles, leaving her in just her underwear and camisole.

August’s eyes rake over her, and his silent demand pulls at her last nerve.

She swallows back her tears, fingers shaking as she slides the straps off her shoulders, letting the fabric fall to the floor and then stepping out of her underwear, kicking the pile aside.

Now entirely naked, her arms wrap protectively around herself to shield what she can. She looks away, the sting of indignity making her skin crawl, willing herself not to cry.

August steps forward, adjusting the shower’s dial, and the pipes clank and groan as water finally bursts out of the rusted shower head, icy at first. She shivers, her teeth clattering, and only once the water turns warm does the chill ease up.

A snap of his fingers brings Gabriel closer, setting the shower supplies within reach. August then places them at her feet, his mocking gaze never leaving her as he drags a worn wooden chair up, seating himself like a perverse audience settling in for a show. 

Paloma doesn’t move, clinging harder to her body, her nails digging into her own skin, praying he’ll lose interest and turn away. But he just smirks. “Don’t be shy, P. Not like I haven’t seen you naked before.” His tongue drags over his lips, blue eyes glittering darkly, drinking in her discomfort.

She would rather die where she stands than have him touch her, lingering his hands over her body like a wolf savoring his meal. Slowly, reluctantly, her arms fall to her sides, shoulders curling inward, as she begins to wash herself.

The hot tears mix with the water streaming down her cheeks, each drop hiding the sobs she’s swallowing.

August’s stare trails over her figure, his smirk deepening every time she flinches under the weight of it.

He doesn’t hide his hunger, watching her every movement—the rise and fall of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the sway of her shoulders as she soaps herself in silence.

Gabriel’s eyes stay firmly on his boots, shame evident in his posture. 

Finally, she shuts off the water, chest heaving as she swallows down the humiliation, covering herself again and feeling his satisfaction lingering in the room like a toxic cloud.

A towel lands at her feet, and she grabs it, pulling it around her trembling frame, feeling like her skin might crawl right off her bones. 

“Got this dress made just for you,” August says casually, standing then pulling out a white dress and red flats from a worn bag. He tosses them onto the chair he’d just been sitting in, not making any effort to move or look away, and she swallows back the lump in her throat.

She’s barely holding herself together, her fingers fumbling with the towel as she dries off, eyes darting between the two men.

One won’t meet her gaze, too timorous, and the other stares at her with lecherous eyes.

She slips on the dress, it’s something she would’ve picked for herself under different circumstances; calf-length, delicate ladder lace along the trim, cap sleeves, and three charmeuse red ribbons that match the shoes.

But the beauty of it feels like a cruel mockery against the ugliness of this moment. 

“You look so beautiful,” August purrs, “Get a good look at yourself.” 

She’s forced in front of an antique mirror, the glass warped and cracked, but she can still make out her reflection. 

The dark circles beneath her eyes, bruised skin, the way her hair clings to her damp skin, the faded pallor of her face against her outfit—she looks like a ghost.

His hand slides to her shoulder, pushing her hair aside as he leans in, trailing his nose against her skin and inhaling deeply. “You smell like summertime.” He presses his lips to her neck, and bile rises in her throat.

Then, he pulls back, her mother’s cross pendant in hand, fastening it around her neck with a satisfied smile.

Her heart clenches once she sees it. She’d left that at Javier’s, tucked away safely with all the other things she moved out of her childhood home in preparation for their big trip.

The thought of August being in his space, doing God knows what, gets her alarmed. “What did you do to him?”

August looks momentarily confused by her query, but then his smirk grows as he eyes the pendent and sees that look in her eyes. “Don’t worry, I didn’t touch your precious narc. He ain’t been home all day. He’s out there, sniffin’ around for you like a lost dog. Thought about killin’ him, but… I think he’d suffer more thinkin’ he failed you. Just another life he couldn’t save, huh?”

The words press against those bruising, sore spots on her heart. She scowls, throwing back as much defiance as she can muster. “You wouldn’t get close enough to try.” Her voice trembles, but she knows Javier and what he’s capable of. 

He just shrugs, the malicious glint in his eyes unwavering. “Maybe not. But Sloane?” He grins, knowing how even mentioning her gets under Paloma’s skin. “Now, I think she could.”

He doesn’t give her time to respond, moving to bind her hands again, this time in smooth silk restraints that feel uncharacteristically gentle against her wrists.

Time moves in slow motion, she becomes unresponsive, like a melancholic statue, as he brushes her hair, fussing over her appearance as if she were some doll, changing the gauze over her stitches.

Her hope of getting out of this has diminished. Gabriel won’t help her and August has run the two men competent enough to figure this out in circles, so tangled up in deceit to find her.

The evening melts into night, shadows deepening when he finally leaves, just to return moments later with a steaming cup of tea that smells rancid and earthy, like decay.

“Drink up.”

She shakes her head, refusing it, but he pries her mouth open, forcing her to swallow the scalding liquid. It’s bitter and burns her throat, her tongue singed as she swallows unwillingly. 

“See? Wasn’t so bad,” he taunts her, wiping away some of the remnants that spilled from the corner of her mouth.

The effect is immediate; her mind hazes, thoughts swirling, until her body feels sluggish, as if it is no longer tethered to her.

Just as her vision starts to fade, a red, body-length veil is draped over her, the fabric casting her world into blood-hued darkness.

“I need to see it again.” 

Javier pinches the bridge of his nose at Romeo’s request, fingers then pressing hard against his closed eyes as the footage gets rewound. 

It’s the only evidence they have—a single security camera capturing what transpired. The grainy video shows her crossing the street, pausing, and then August and his accomplices stepping into view. She runs, disappearing off-camera for what feels like a lifetime, before being dragged back and shoved into the bed of the truck.

Each time Javier watches, another shard of him breaks away.

Romeo shifts beside him, watching the screen with unrelenting focus. He’s insistent, searching for anything, some small clue to pinpoint where they went.

Javier, though, is at his limit, fighting the urge to hurl the screen across the room.

“Romeo,” he begins, a little strained, “we’re not going to find anything new here.”

“We missed shit before. Can’t afford to miss anythin’ now.”

They’d spent the whole damn day combing through the trio’s hometown, hoping for any piece of intel, some breadcrumb that would lead them to the group’s hideout.

The search had been maddeningly fruitless. Fayette’s local authorities helped spread the word, but there was nothing, no tracks, no whispers, no real leads to follow.

Every registered address tied to the three was a dead end. Their only childhood homes, a trailer park, had burned down over a decade ago, leaving no trace, no history to sift through.

Everyone close to them—parents, guardians—were either dead, in prison, or admitted. The few family members with any sense had cut ties long ago.

“They were hellraisers,” the retired sheriff had muttered. That’s all the town could say, the simple acknowledgment that the trio had always left destruction in their wake.

The only useful piece of information they dug up was that August had left his job at a local grocery store to work for some woman, an outsider no one really knew.

She’d shown up, taken August with her, and he’d returned a few years later with a more hardened resolve, recruiting Sloane and Gabriel.

After torching some local acreage and serving time for arson, they’d vanished from Fayette until the recent spree of murders started.

“He’s been planning this for a long time, Romeo. They knew how to hide; they’ve done this before.” Javier mutters, frustration simmering in his tone.

They’d tried running a partial plate of the truck, only to come up short once again.

Javier moves near the blinds, unable to keep watching her kidnapping, glimpsing the sea of people that make up their search parties gathered in their too small department.

The faces blur together, civilians and first responders alike, all waiting for direction.

“It’s probably best if you go to the hospital and get Harper’s statement. She’s cleared to talk, right?” 

Romeo takes a beat longer to respond, clearly grappling with his own anguish. “Yeah. Got the official call ‘bout ten minutes ago.” 

“If anyone’s got something to give us that can break this open, it’s her.”

The room is quiet except for the low murmur of voices spilling in. The tape finally ends and Romeo’s gaze falls to the corner of his desk, where a lone photo of Paloma sits; she’s grinning with his cowboy hat perched high on her head, radiating joy.

He stares at it like he’s trying to draw strength from that moment, then he slowly picks it up, pressing his lips together in thought, handing it over to Javier.

“Here. This is the one I used for the flyers.”

Javier swallows hard, taking it, his thumb grazing over the image, his own heart sinking. This is the Paloma he can’t let slip through his fingers, the one who belongs right here, laughing and safe. Not wherever she was now. 

Romeo’s tone holds firm determination. “Do what you gotta do. For her. You understand me?”

Javier just nods, no words left to offer in the face of everything unsaid.

The sheriff lets out a long, heavy sigh, the kind that speaks of too many hours awake, too many close calls, too many second chances lost to bad luck or timing or whatever fate is left to them.

He grabs his jacket, slinging it over his shoulders, steeling his expression as he leaves the office, moving through the throng that instantly swells around him.

They close in with questions, worry, and hope—all of it colliding in one tense space.

Seeing them converge on Romeo, Javier takes a steadying breath and steps out right behind him, his presence commanding even in his silence.

He straightens, letting the authority in his stance speak for him, his gaze hard as he begins relaying their plan with swift, unyielding precision.

The world tilts and sways as Paloma returns to half-consciousness, vision still muddled from the drugged tea that has her head feeling like it’s filled with lead and limbs sluggish.

She’s seated upright in an ornate, over-decorated chair with her hands still bound in front of her. She tries to blink away the fog clouding her mind, but the red veil over her face continues to shroud her vision.

Her stitched wound throbs faintly, then suddenly, she’s being lifted and carried by four indistinct figures.

The swaying motion makes her sick, but she’s too weak to cry out, her voice nothing more than a ghost lodged in her throat.

She starts to feel the dampness of the humid Texas night pressing into her skin, the scent of flowers floating in the air, sickly sweet as it mixes with the distant smell of incense.

She’s paraded down a candlelit path where kneeling figures line the walkway, bowing in silent reverence. The sound of murmuring voices hums around her like a distant, dreadful lullaby. 

Finally, the procession stops, and her chair is lowered to the ground.

Her surroundings feel unreal, like a fever dream she’s trapped inside. A dark shadow moves in front of her, reaching to pull her to her feet. She tries to make out their face, but it’s just a dark, hollow blur.

Her legs tremble as she takes a few shaky steps, guided by an iron grip that steers her from the soft earth to a hard surface. Somewhere to her right, she hears a voice—August's—so sharp that it almost makes her ears bleed.

“We have to capture this moment.”

Paloma’s body is positioned, hands adjusting her like she’s an ornament rather than a person. She can barely keep her knees from buckling, her body swaying as they try to hold her up.

Her mind is a mess, every thought tangled, every movement slow, as if she’s moving underwater.

She falls, just as she hears the flash of a camera, her legs finally giving way, but hands grip her before she hits the ground, lifting her, steadying her as her head lolls to the side.

Then, in one swift motion, the veil lifted from her face.

August stands there, close enough that she can see every cold line in his face, conforming into possessive delight. 

He’s dressed to match her, red bows on his collared shirt, the same lace design on his pants.

Her skin crawls as his fingers trace the side of her face, his voice a leering purr. “My special little dove.”

He pulls her close, spinning her so that she faces their creation in her honor. The white marble gleams in the halo of the candlelight, surrounded by a sea of blood-red spider lilies, their spindly petals stretching out like claws.

Candles of every size and shape cast their shadows over the altar, illuminating the intricate carving of their emblem, miniatures and other offerings strewn about.

“All for you,” his lips brush against her ear.

The hands surrounding her are unyielding as she’s lifted and maneuvered onto the cold slab, the hard surface unforgiving beneath her back.

Her wrists are freed only to be tied again, the silk binding each one to a small stone pillar at each side.

Her ankles follow, strapped to the pillars near the end of the altar, legs bent slightly and spread, leaving her trapped and exposed.

Her breath quickens, each ragged inhale catching in her throat as the reality of her fate crashes down with brutal clarity. The red veil is drawn back over her face.

Tears blur her sight, mixing with the snot and sweat as she starts to sob, desperate cries spilling from her lips, pleas tumbling out in a desperate stream that echo out into the vastness of the field.

“Please… please, let me go. You don’t have to do this, please.” Her words come out strangled and slurred but she’s ignored. She jerks against her restraints, each movement growing weaker as the drug saps her strength.

August stands before his followers, his voice low yet electrifying, every declaration steeped in reverence and simmering triumph. 

“For centuries, we have waited in the shadows, prayed in whispers, bound by oaths that our forebears swore. Those before us dreamed of this moment, yet they were weak, too fearful to claim what was rightfully theirs. We will not repeat their mistakes. The bloodline of the first, the birthing bloodline, flows through her veins, and she is ours. Eurynomos will have a body made of flesh and bone, a place in this realm, because of us.”

Paloma shakes her head side to side, desperate to block out August’s devious words. Just as a surge of strength flares within her, sharp fingers dig into her shoulders from behind, pressing her back down, anchoring her in place.

Through the haze of drowsiness, her blurred vision lands on Sloane, looming over her with a short, black veil shrouding her face. Beneath it, Paloma can make out an expression as evil as it is watchful.

“No more dreams. No more consuming or offering flesh that rots before dawn. Our devotion, our patience, has led us here. We are the last of our kind—the ones who bring forth the new age. Now is the time for fulfillment. Now is the time to step into the eternal night and bring our deity home.” 

His gaze sweeps over the bowed heads, the flicker of candlelight dancing in his eyes as his words coil around them like a vow.

Sloane relinquishes her hold, seemingly fading away.

He approaches her slowly, each step deliberate, his hand drifting up the length of her body. His fingers come to rest on her cheek, stroking gently, almost reverently.

August leans in, his nose brushing against hers, and without a word, he presses his lips to hers, a slow, possessive kiss over the sheer material of the veil.

She wants to pull away, to resist, but she’s trapped within herself, her will slipping as though he’s holding the reins to her very soul.

When he pulls away, his voice lowers to a rhythmic timbre, the words twisting together in an incantation she can’t understand.

Each syllable makes her sink further into delusion, the compromising position heightening her vulnerability. 

The weight of her own helplessness crushes her as she lies there.

Suddenly, the speaking stops. An unnatural silence blankets the moment, thieving sound until it’s just her shaky, pitiful cries. Even the cicadas quit their insistent chirping.

Paloma blinks, barely able to see through the veil, but she watches August step back until his figure is swallowed by the darkness beyond the altar. 

She shivers as a chill wind flows over her body, extinguishing the flames around her and plunging her into the night, save for the heavy, luminous moon hanging full and merciless above.

Two glowing eyes flicker into view at the far end of the clearing. They hover, eerie and inhuman, watching her with a predatory patience.

A twig snaps in the shadows. Her breath catches. Another snap, closer this time.

Blood rushes in her ears, but above the pounding, she hears something else—labored breaths, thick and wet, the sound too guttural to be human. 

Her body locks up and quivers as a shadow casts up to the very heavens, emerging from the backdrop of trees, its form towering and monstrous. It seems to stretch endlessly, merging with the dark sky above, as if it could reach out and seize the lunar sphere.

Paloma tries to scream, but her body is frozen, paralyzed in a state of unholy dread.

Her eyes widen, tears leaking silently, her throat closing tight as the figure moves forward.

The dark, hulking mass leans over her, and she feels something press down on her belly, then sharp claws caress her bare legs, creeping upwards, scratching at the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. 

Her chest tightens as if she’s having a heart attack, fright coursing through her like poison. She can’t breathe, feeling herself teeter on the edge of consciousness.

Black spots swallow her field of view as her eyes roll to the back of her head, and in that instant, she’s slipping away, her mind yanking her away from this horror, casting her into the darkness of her own making as she loses herself, the terror too great to bear.

[losermilk7]

Dreamtale brothers x gn!Reader

This was a request from my Wattpad! Consider it an early New Years' special. Whether the reader is the brothers' sibling or not is up to you.

(b/g) - board game

Undertale + AUs Masterlist

Word count: 1447

Dream and Nightmare Belong to Joku

Ink Belongs to Comyet

Error belongs to loverofpiggies

------------------------------------

Today was the New Year! That means a chaotic day for Dream and Nightmare. For this day, they decided to put their differences and rivalry aside and celebrate together, as good brothers should. With (Y/N).

The two had spent the evening before today and the whole morning preparing and getting everything ready. They had made a lot of delicious food and bought snacks, picked out some movies and games, and laid down a few mattresses with fluffy warm blankets and pillows so they could all have a sleepover on the living room floor. They had even hung up decorations fitting for the event. 

Now they were just waiting for (Y/N). The brothers had sat on the couch busying themselves with whatever was playing on the TV.  Though, the more time that passed made Dream anxious, which Nightmare sensed.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked. Dream flinched and looked down, fidgeting with his hands.

"I'm just worried, I know It's just been a couple of minutes since the scheduled meeting time, but..." Dream answered. Despite being optimistic most of the time, Dream felt as though something really was wrong and it made him uneasy.

Nightmare glanced at him and then at the clock on the wall next to him. It had been about 7 minutes since (Y/N) was supposed to show up. Nightmare also couldn't help but be slightly worried as well.

"Let's wait a bit more. I'm sure they'll show up, they probably just got caught in the snow or something." Nightmare attempted to reassure his brother. Dream sighed and nodded bringing eyelights back onto the TV.

'Caught in the snow'. This claim could very well be correct since,while (Y/N) could teleport through the AUs, their accuracy wasn't the greatest. Often times they tended to stray a few or more meters away from where they were supposed to end up at. 

30 more minutes pass and the duo are sure something's happened now. Even if (Y/N) had teleported uncharacteristically far it wouldn't have taken them this long to arrive.

Dream had been checking his phone about every 40 seconds or so, desperately hoping to see a text from (Y/N) explaining their situation, yet there was nothing.

"I'll call them," Dream said and unlocked his phone, pressing (Y/N)'s profile as Nightmare watched. Dream put the phone on speaker and waited for them to answer.

Nobody picked up.

The brothers were definitely worried now. 

"M-maybe Ink or Blue knows.." Dream hoped and decided to call them as well.

"I'm going to go look for them. Update me if you know something." Nightmare sighed and stood up. Dream nodded at him and looked back to his phone, scrolling to find Ink's contact.

Dream pressed call and waited for an answer. Yet again, no one picked up. It's not like it was unusual for Ink to not pick up, he often forgot his phone somewhere.

"Damn it Ink, why now?" He mumbled to himself, growing annoyed at the lack of responses.

Meanwhile, Nightmare was trying to find you in AUs that were nearby the AU where he and Dream had rented out a house for the New Year's, which was in an Outertale pacifist timeline. He was growing more and more frustrated with the lack of your presence. 

He walked through the ruins for, what, the 4th time now? He focused on trying to feel your familiar aura with not satisfying results. Was it possible that you were kidnapped, he wondered? While it wasn't likely for you to be caught by any ordinary monster, someone like Error could definitely nap you if you weren't paying attention. Though, Nightmare didn't see a reason for Error to kidnap you. He decided to check it out anyway.

Teleporting to the Anti-Void all he saw was Error sitting in his hammock watching UnderNovela enthusiastically. 

"What? What do you want? I'm busy here" Error asked, pausing the show.

"Have you seen (Y/N)?" Nightmare replied getting straight to the point. 

"(Y/N)? No. Why?" Error asked once again.

Nightmare just sighed and teleported away, not feeling like explaining the situation. Besides, (Y/N) could be in huge trouble right now and he wanted to find them as fast as possible.

"DREAM, HELLO! HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Blue's voice boomed excitedly through Dream's phone speaker.

"Hey Blue, happy New Year. Do you know where (Y/N) might be?" Dream asked hopefully.

"OH, ARE THEY NOT WITH YOU? I THOUGHT YOU WERE SPENDING TODAY WITH THEM AND NIGHTMARE?"

"Well, we were supposed to, but (Y/N) still hasn't shown up and we're very worried something might have happened to them." Dream explained.

"Oh...No I Haven't Seen Them. I'll Keep My Eyes Out Though! I'm Sure They're Alright, Dream." Blue's voice got softer once he noticed the worried tone that Dream had.

"Okay, Thank you. Bye, Blue." 

"Goodbye Dream! Let Me Know If You Find Them!" Blue said as he hung up.

Dream was left sitting on the couch, he wondered if he should go out and look for (Y/N) as Nightmare did, but he also didn't want to risk (Y/N) just showing up super late and wondering where they are.

'Oh! (Y/N) has the keys inside, I'll just leave a note saying we're out looking for them and to give us a call.' Dream thought and went to get a piece of paper and a pen. 

Nightmare had already checked all the nearest AUs where (Y/N) could possibly get stranded, yet he still didn't even have a clue about where they could be. He sighed and decided to go back to Dream in case he had found (Y/N). Nightmare stepped inside seeing Dream was just about to leave.

"Did you find them?" They both asked. 

"Oh.." Dream looked down. "Where could they have gone?" He asked only to get a shrug from Nightmare.

"Did you call your friends?" Dream nods at Nightmare. "*sigh* This is hopele-" His sentence was cut off by an overly cheery song playing on the coffee table.

Dream ran over to his phone seeing it was Ink. He quickly picked up.  "Hello?"

"Dream! I'm so sorry I forgot my phone, what did you need?"

"Have you seen (Y/N)?" Dream asked hurriedly.

"(Y/N)? They're with me, why?" 

Dream lets out a breath of relief. "Great, alright. Why are they with you? And where are you?" He asks.

"We're in the doodle sphere! They said they got lost trying to get somewhere and forgot the address so they've been waiting for someone." Ink responds.

"We're coming!" Dream yells.

"Wait, why-?" Ink gets cut off by Dream hanging up.

"Let's go, let's go!" Dream grabs Nightmare's forearm and drags him out to the doodle sphere not paying attention to his whines about being confused since he didn't hear the conversation.

Once they arrive, Dream and Nightmare see (Y/N) on the ground talking to Ink as he sketches something in a notebook. They both run over quickly, Dream hugging (Y/N) tightly. "We were so worried (Y/N)! Why weren't you answering our calls?" A concerned Dream asks.

"I'm sorry Dream, Nightmare, My phone died and I really had no idea how to get there haha," (Y/N) answers. "Sorry for worrying you both again."

"All that matters is that you're alright." Nightmare plainly mentions. "Let's go." He adds. You and Dream stand up and follow behind him.

"Bye Ink! Thanks for taking care of me!" (Y/N) yells out and waves at Ink before stepping into Nightmare's portal.

(Y/N) looks around the rented house. "You guys really decorated the place nicely! Shame I wasn't here to see it earlier or get to eat the food you guys made." They admit guiltily.

"It's okay (Y/N)! We still have snacks and everything!" Dream exclaims, happy that the three of you are finally reunited again. "What should we do now, guys?" He asks.

"You two bought games and movies, right? Let's put one in the background and just play (b/g)." (Y/N) offers. Nightmare nods and Dream goes to look for the game.

And so the night continues with the trio playing board/card games into the late night before falling asleep during gossip by the mattresses.

Bonus: (Y/N) woke up a few hours after falling asleep to the sound of...bombs?? They sleepily rubbed their eyes before peeking behind a window curtain in the living room, seeing a bunch of colorful fireworks in the night sky. 

"Dream! Night! Wake up, there are fireworks outside!" (Y/N) shook them awake, leading them out the front door.

"H-huh- what?" Dream asked, not being able to make sense of (Y/N)'s words as he just woke a few seconds ago "Wow.." He mumbled out when he saw the fireworks. "So pretty," he exclaimed.

"Hmm, It's nothing special." Nightmare said, though he really was enjoying watching the fireworks with Dream and (Y/N).

[tsukimefuku]

Human resources, tasukete!

You're concerned and decide to ask your friends about Jujutsu High's HR policies regarding romantic relationships.

Tags: Implied/Past Nanami x OC/f!Reader. Higuruma x OC/f!Reader. Slight jujusanpo vibes. Crack taken (somewhat) seriously. Slice of life vibes. Humor. Angst. Fluff. Gojo, Shoko and Ijichi are at a loss. Reader is terrified of Shoko.

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a Nanami x Reader x Higuruma long fic I might write. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots and short stories, please visit my masterlist :) 

Disclaimer these stories are NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.

"So, Hiromi, I have some concerns." You said, sat beside him on a bench, as you both took a break from strolling around Tokyo. You had a bag of sweets to bribe Gojo the following day, and licked mindlessly at your popsicle.

"You always have concerns, my dear." Higuruma answered, sipping on his soda through the straw, glad the cold beverage provided him with some relief in such a hot day. "What is it?"

"I have no idea if we should be publicly involved. I mean, I don't mind keeping it to ourselves, but-" You stopped to ponder for a moment. "Does Jujutsu High even have some kind of policy regarding relationships in the workplace?"

He looked at you and shrugged. "Whichever you decide is fine by me." He took another sip. "They might, given there are some missions involving two or more parties."

"Yeah, but there are those two weird siblings that usually go together on every mission, so I don't know, really." You paused. "Do you think they need to follow labor laws of any sort?"

Higuruma snorted at the sheer absurdity of it, grinning sardonically. "Well, I really don't think so. And if they do, any sensible lawyer would refuse their case. I mean..." He vaguely gestured in the air.

You smiled, a little embarrassed at the stupid question. "Yeah. Probably not. But it is a possibility they have some sort of internal policy about it, so I'll try finding out about it, okay? Because they barely tolerate me, and your sentence is merely suspended, as far as we know."

"Well, if we make our relationship known," he said, pulling you from your waist to press against him. You chuckled, and he planted a small kiss on your lips. "I'll get to kiss you whenever, wherever. I'd like that very much."

***

"Spill it." Shoko said, turning around and looking straight at you, while holding her cup of coffee. You were both seated at the morgue, as you helped her with her reports, having nothing else to do today. She clearly noticed your eyes burning a hole through her back, choked up on words.

"So, if someone hypothetically had a relationship with a co-worker here in Jujutsu High, how should they proceed?"

"What?"

"I mean, paperwork. What should they do?" You explained.

She was silent for a few moments, a little taken aback by your question. "Are you and Nanami-"

You sighed. "Shoko, the question is hypothetical."

She walked towards you, putting her coffee cup over one of the gurneys, and hovered, ominously. You involuntarily made yourself smaller, pinching your shoulders, as you sat on a small bench.

"Well, hypothetically, are you and Nanami together?" She inquired. 

Shoko had seen the glances, smiles and eventual hugs you two had shared in vulnerable moments. On top of that, she was familiar with Nanami ever since high school, and knew for a fact he wasn't the smiley-huggy type of person. The tension between the two of you was palpable to anyone whenever you and him were both in the same vicinity.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You answered, slightly scared.

The ominous energy grew dire. Shoko wanted her tea and she was going to have it one way or the other.

You leaned back, defeated. "No, it's not Nanami."

"Say what now?" Shoko asked, surprised. "Who is it?"

"Can you promise me not to talk to anyone about this, please?" 

"Yeah, yeah, fine." She dismissed your concerns, shaking her hand in the air. "Now who is it? Don't tell me it's Gojo-"

"What the hell, Shoko!? Ugh, no, never." You answered, shivering, and not in a good way. A great friend, but a man child, after all. "It's Higuruma."

"Oh..." She let out, "He's kinda brooding, I can see the appeal. But... I always thought you and Nanami-"

"Me too. I was wrong, clearly." You replied, sharply, feeling a knot bubbling up your throat.

"What do you mean?" She inquired.

"Ask him." You spat out, grabbing her cup of coffee and taking a sip. You grimaced. How does this woman drink this with no sugar or sweetener whatsoever?

Shoko noticed your face twisting, taking the cup back from your hands. "Sugar is for the weak."

"Then, I'm a weakling." You retorted, getting up. "I'll try to find out if there is anything I should or not do about this regarding Human Resources, or whatever the hell you have in place here."

"I mean, if I were you, I'd just keep it to myself." She pointed out, earnestly.

"Well, I thought about it, but I'm worried that saying nothing might be detrimental to me or him, given our... Particularities."

"Hm. Maybe you're right." Shoko answered, as you made your way out of the morgue.

Nanami how tf did you let that happen?! Shoko chastised him, texting as soon as you left the morgue. 

Ieiri, I have no idea what you're referring to. Could you please be more specific?

The woman you so clearly love is dating what's-his-face black suit.

The typing icon appeared and disappeared on Shoko's screen around six times. It disappeared for a minute, and then came back, lasting a long time.

It's for the best. I hope she's happy.

On the other side of the conversation, Nanami was splayed over his sofa, staring at the ceiling, trying to not feel too sorry for himself. His efforts weren't working as well as expected, as he drowned in a mixture of jealousy and longing for you. But at least, like this, he'd surely have no other chance to slip up and hurt you like he did ever again. 

At least, he tried muttering to himself, willing this fantasy into existence.

At... Least. He covered his face with his forearm, sighing deeply, as he picked his book up to resume his reading session. The words on paper were no longer making any sense.

***

Gojo saw you approaching him in the dojo. He had his casual on, white long sleeve shirt and glasses, after training one of the first-years. 

"Hey, Satoru! How are you?" You said, walking towards the sorcerer holding a paper bag. "So, I remember you liked this particular type of kikufuku-"

"Stop right there," Gojo answered, leaned against the wall, tilting his head to the side with his frivolous smile plastered on his face. "I know bribery when I see it."

You sighed. "I mean, do you actually care that this is bribery or not?"

He chuckled, extending his hand and motioning you to proceed. "Of course I don't. Give it to me. What flavor are those?"

"Matcha."

"Oh, yeah. Very nice." Gojo said, satisfied, as he took the paper bag from your hands. "What do you want from me this time? Saving somebody else's life? Just my fantastic company? Tell me!"

You chuckled, sitting on the ground, looking up at him. "Human resources."

"... The what now?" He answered, pushing an entire kikufuku inside his mouth, looking very pleased. "Wow, I need to know where you bought these. Is it a new store?"

"That's unimportant right now." You shut down his rising antics. "If someone has a relationship with a co-worker here at Jujutsu High, do they have to report it?"

Gojo looked at you, surprised, swallowing his sweets. "Hm... Seriously?"

"What?"

"Why would I know the answer to that question? Do I look like I have a secret sorcerer affair or something?"

"... Huh? This isn't about you, Satoru. What the hell." You retorted, incredulous. "I just need to know if there is any paperwork involved."

He simply shrugged, munching away. "Beats me. No idea."

This was useless.

You got up, in frustration, and that was when Gojo actually processed the words you just had said. "Wait, what do you mean 'you need to know' anything about that? Are you-"

"Bye, pretty boy!" You said, leaving the dojo completely empty-handed. What a waste of money on those kikufuku. Gojo seemed happy to receive them, at least.

***

"Ijichi, you're my last hope!" You jumped him, almost yelling, and the man nearly passed out when you left the bushes looking like a maniac. He thought Master Tengen's shields could have been compromised, and he was being lunged at by a curse.

You were walking around the campus relentlessly, like a predator in the middle of a hunt, trying to catch Ijichi before he left, considering most of his days were spent at home office, from what you had gathered.

"Y-yes, Ms.? H-how can I help you?" He asked, shaking briefly like a frail twig, before recomposing himself and adjusting his tie.

"How do I report a romantic relationship to whatever you guys have for human resources? Or I don't have to?" You asked, holding his shoulders, looking intently at the man, while taken by some kind of desperation.

He was, indeed, your last hope, before you had to speak directly to Yaga in order to inquire him about it.

Ijichi blankly stared at you, buffering your question before he could muster up an answer. "We don't really deal with those kinds of things administratively. So you don't have to report anything, I g-guess." Are she and Nanami-san...? He began pondering, mentally.

Ijichi never got to finish his thought, though.

You sighed, relieved, and pulled him into your arms, hugging the assistant tightly, almost jumping like a schoolgirl. "You're my hero, thank you!" 

His face faintly blushed at the sudden appreciation received from a sorcerer, with no back-handed innuendo. "Y-You're... Welcome."

You let him go, smiled, and started frolicking your way out of the campus, glad there was nothing to report to any kind of higher authority other than your own anxiety due to this whole situation. 

[losersimonriley]

Thank the heavens it's friday!

Gaz had been lounging on the couch in Ghost's office for at least an hour at this point. It was cold and wet, thus very miserable outside. Inside, he probably could only pick between the gym, paperwork or keeping Ghost from working on his own paperwork. Gaz clearly had opted for the latter. Not that Ghost minded. He'd been done with his work before Gaz had even arrived and was just trying to keep himself busy until he ran out the clock.

"Soap's not back for the weekend, huh?" Gaz announced idly, picking the one topic that usual got Ghost talking.

Ghost pinched the bridge of his nose. "S'pposed to be back Wednesday."

"That long?"

"Mh." It had already been more than a week. But they kept turning up more leads and since Soap was already on assignment there, it made sense for him to follow them. That didn't stop Ghost from privately wallowing in his misery, though. He missed his husband. Especially on the weekends. Desk duty sucked, most of the time.

He glanced at the clock. Any minute now his entire reason for being, and being desk bound, should arrive at his office. He finished off the report he'd been filing, ignoring Gaz' eyes on him.

There was a knock on the door, about five minutes later than Ghost expected. So Price still couldn't be firm when he needed to be. "Look who I picked up," Price announced, as if Simon hadn't asked him to do specifically that so he could compulsively monitor his husband's whereabouts for another hour longer.

Price didn't even make it fully through the door before he was pushed aside by Simon's little whirlwind. With a screech of "mommy!" Leigh "Bean" MacTavish sprinted around the desk, barely avoiding the edge with their head to launch themself at Simon. Simon caught them, hugging them close. "Hello, Bean. How was your day?"

Bean immediately started talking about everything that had happened at the daycare, mixing up the timeline several times as their three year old mind jumped from one memory to the next. Simon listened intently, only looking away when Gaz waved for his attention.

"What?" he huffed. "Spit it out, sergeant."

It took Gaz several tries to form words. He finally settled on "Mommy?" In the most incredulous tone.

"Yeah? What else would Bean call me?" Simon shrugged. He really didn't want to waste any more capacity on Gaz when it could be spent on Bean. His child, who wasn't taking the prolonged absence of their father that well either.

"Dad?" Gaz suggested.

At that, Bean frowned at him, picture perfect copy of Simon. "Daddy's daddy. Mommy's mommy," they explained sternly.

Price put a hand on Gaz' shoulder. "Give it up. Not our business."

Gaz shook his head, fighting a smile. "Mommy Ghost," he muttered. "Bleeding fucking christ, man."

Thank heavens it’s Friday and what a lovely Friday it is with a Bean ficlet in my ask box!! I love Gaz so much oh my god. Bean just giving him the stankiest 3 year old side eye like “🤨 no daddy’s daddy duh”

[modern-day-bard]

Worth The Feeling

Content Warning: 18+

This story includes explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship (MC is 26, Javi is in his 40s). Minors, do not interact.

Chapter 8

I suppose I should have known right away, when Javi walked up to me the next day in between scenes. I had been keeping myself busy, trying not to look his way too often. But when I did peak up and sneak glances, I never caught his eye like I had before. Except when we went on a break. Then we did meet each other's gaze, and something was very off. His face was more solemn than usual, even though by now I was used to the crease in the middle of his eyebrows. He looked almost afraid to speak with me. He approached me and gently placed his hand on my back. Not too high that it felt condescending, but not too low that anyone around us would suspect anything.

"I need to talk to you," he said in a low voice. Even though I knew somewhere in my brain that that specific tone of voice wasn't meant to be alluring, it still gave me butterflies. Those butterflies quickly turned into a twist of worry when I realized how serious his expression was.

And that's how we ended up here, back in the trailer with Jonah, looking down at a far away shot of Javi and I at dinner.

Thankfully, as Jonah had explained, no one inside the restaurant took any pictures. They couldn't see how close we were sitting together or how exactly we were looking at each other. There was, however, one far away shot through the bushes of us being seated together. Naturally, with his being the only famous face out of the two of us, the photo is only of Javi and his smile. They captured the back of my head, but that's it. I think only people who really knew me would recognize me from that angle.

"Are there any pictures from other locations?" Javi asks Jonah, just as serious as he was when he told me we needed to talk. I knew what he was getting at, even though Jonah seemed unaware that there had been any other locations on our night out.

"No, just this one. At least, that is all that we were threatened with."

"Threatened with?" I'd been quiet up until this point, but that scares me.

"It's known with the papers and tabloids that Javi likes to keep his romantic life eminently private. Typically, the photographers will send them to us first, demanding money. We decline, and then they sell the photos to the tabloids like they probably would anyway even if we did pay them." Jonah's voice is so level-headed and calm, as if he's had this same conversation one hundred times. And then a chill moves up my arms as I wonder if maybe he has. I just nod lightly.

"They do this with almost every woman I'm seen with. They even did it with my sister before they realized who she was." Javi explains, clearly noticing that it made me uncomfortable. "It's not always with someone I'm actually dating." He places a reassuring hand on my elbow for a moment, before dropping it far too soon. I nod again, and Javi turns his attention back to Jonah.

"You're sure that this was the only location they have?"

Jonah glances from me to Javi briefly. "As sure as I can be. If there was anything more...compromising, they probably would've used it as leverage. Tried to get more money from you."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Javi's stiff shoulders relax slightly.

"So...what are you recommending?" I'm still not sure what this means. I mean, he could smile like that at anyone, couldn't he? It wasn't exactly incriminating.

"Well, that would be up to you two to discuss. Javi and I have always ignored pictures like this. In my professional opinion, it is best not to get involved with these people. If we decline as per usual, I would guess the photos will go live in under 48 hours. After that, it is up to you both if you want to make a statement, or simply ignore it."

At the mention of the timeline, my heart starts to race. Tabloids? My face? Under 48 hours? I didn't even check to see if I was allowed to date the talent. Could I lose my job over this? Dinner seems pretty harmless, and I feel like Lloyd and Dwayne would be too busy to even read a tabloid right now. But is that just wishful thinking? Was this entire situation wishful thinking?

"I will say..." Jonah begins, "and I apologize Ava, but we need to consider the age gap factor. Javi, it could reflect negatively on you if you are dating a production assistant from a current project, especially if she is younger than you. You could be seen as predatory."

"My career is not the one I'm concerned about, Jonah." Javi's voice is icier than I've heard it before. "Maybe we should pay them this time."

"What? No way. I'm not having you pay off these fuckers." Both of their necks snap my way. Maybe this wasn't a time for profanity, but I don't care. "And like Jonah said, they will probably just sell the photos anyway."

"I could have a contract drawn up where they wouldn't be able to resell." Jonah offers.

"No. Thank you, Jonah, but no. There are loopholes. If they agree not to resell those photos, they could turn around and sell other shots from the same night in a similar position. We have no way of knowing if this is the only one they have. It would be a waste of time and money." I'm surprised at how level my voice is.

"That's...a good point." Jonah muses.

"I don't want this to hurt Javi's career. I'll do whatever I have to to keep it from looking...inappropriate. I'm a grown adult. It was mutual. If they want to make a few hundred dollars from a dinner, then so be it."

Javi clears his throat. "No statement will be made. We'll ignore it like we usually do. Thank you Jonah, but I'll need the room to speak with Ava."

Jonah nods, heading for the door. "Thank you," I call after him. He nods on his way out.

"I'm so sorry, Javi. When we first talked and you asked my age, it never occurred to me that it could be damaging to your career. I haven't really thought about your age much, if I'm being honest." I feel like I'm rambling, but that's true. I knew he was older than me, but I still haven't googled him. I just knew that I was extremely attracted to him, and that he was kind to me and everyone else around him. I didn't care about his age nearly as much as I cared about those things.

"You're sorry? Ava, I put you in this position. I should have invited you to have dinner at my hotel, or..." he searches the air for a few moments, looking increasingly frustrated. "I don't know. But I fucked up. I wanted to know you more, and I acted impulsively. I was wrong."

I feel a tug in my chest, shaking my head rapidly. "You weren't wrong. I kissed you! Both times. I wanted this. I didn't think about your career. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Javi takes a step toward me, "I don't want that." He placing one hand on my cheek, and the other on my shoulder. "If they had taken pictures of you outside your apartment–"

"But they didn't," I remind him. "These pictures aren't that bad."

"They could have been. Ava, what I did outside your apartment," his eyes flash to my lips and a shiver runs down my spine at the memory, "It could have destroyed your career. Your reputation. You've been in this business long enough to know how unkind the tabloids and the public are to women in that position. It wouldn't matter that I was even there, they could tear you and your future career apart."

His eyes are full of pain, and I have a sinking feeling in my stomach. He's right. I don't want to agree with him, but as strong as my feelings are, I can't deny that he's right. I think of my hands pinned behind me on the wall, how pleading my face must have been, how short my skirt was...it could have been a disaster. I think of my grad school homework waiting to be completed, and the office I always pictured myself in. Big windows with palm trees outside, making trips to movie sets just like Jonah had today. Hopefully for more positive reasons.

"You have to see where I'm coming from." Javi's voice is soft and gentle, his thumb stroking my cheek.

I do. I picture the office again and...Javi is in it. He is visiting me on my lunch break this time, kissing me against my desk, and I'm traveling to sets that he is working on. I shake my head, just a little, trying to picture the office as I have before. But I can't. I can't picture it anymore without Javi there in some way, even if it's just a picture on the desk. And I realize that none of this is fair. I should be able to date him, even just casually, without the worry of it jeopardizing my career. As scared as the possibility of being with someone again is, as scared I am of getting hurt, the idea of being without him scared me more. I take a deep breath and look into his big brown eyes.

"I do. I see where you're coming from. But Javi...I want to know you, too. My career is very important to me, but that's just not fair. A few nobodies with cameras get to threaten my future that easily? I don't want them to win. I want to get to know you and continue in my career. I deserve that."

Javi sighs, his eyes looking just as pained as they did before.

"You deserve so much more than that, Ava. I know what I'm asking you to give up, and it's too much. I feel responsible, and I'm so sorry," he strokes my cheek again, "but I can't do that to you."

My heart lurches, and I feel like my feet have cemented into the floor. It feels ridiculous. We've been on one date. But I haven't felt this way in so long, and possibly never before. And after only one date, one incredible date, I already have to give all this up?

"It's not fair," I croak. I didn't realize that my throat had been clouded with emotion. I make a mental note that if I need to cry, it has to be anywhere but this trailer. And definitely anywhere that isn't looking into this man's caring eyes. It's too much. It's all too much.

He moves both hands to my cheeks now, "It's not fair, baby. But at least until this project is over...we need to keep our distance. I won't jeopardize your career. I can't."

At least until this project is over? I know what that means. He's trying to let me down easy. For all I know, maybe Jonah took the pictures as insurance just in case Javi decided he wasn't feeling it with me anymore. I know it's silly and unlikely, but my mind is racing. And regardless, he's trying to end it.

"Well I don't want to end your career either," I cast my eyes on the floor, "But I can't just keep my distance. It's too hard. We should just stop."

Javi's hands fall from my face immediately. "Stop? I was thinking we could come up with an arrangement..."

"An arrangement? And endanger someone hacking your phone, seeing our calls, getting pictures of me going into your trailer all the time on set? There's always going to be something." I fold my arms in front of my chest.

"So, that's what you want?" Javi's voice is full of hopeful skepticism.

I can't look at him. "Yes."

He steps toward me again, still not touching me. But we are close enough to be sharing breath. "Look me in the eye and tell me."

"I don't want to see you anymore," I say to the floor. The first few tears prick in my eyes, dangerously close to spilling over.

"Look me," Javi gently lifts my chin with his thumb and forefinger, "in the eye." Even though his voice is a whisper, it's incredibly demanding.

I shake my head, looking into his heated gaze. I need to get out of here. The tears are about to fall, and I would like to keep some of my dignity intact today.

"I..." I inhale sharply, causing Javi's lips to part, looking increasingly concerned. "I'm sorry, Javi."

I break out of his grasp, forcing my feet to carry me out of the trailer. I move quickly enough that I get out of there before I can hear him call after me, if he even does. My footsteps feel heavier than they have in years. And as bright as the sunlight hits me when I'm outside, I feel like I walked out into the dark, and left all of my sunshine in the trailer behind me.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 33: Within The Weave

People who save perfectly good images as ".webp" should be kept in cages like this. People who post spoilers for the whole Wheel of Time series underneath the Keep reading line below should be allowed to do whatever they wish.

This chapter starts with the Wheel icon both for the metaphysical discussion he and Moiraine have about the Pattern and because Perrin's about to meet one of his closest companions and greatest supporters, and also Faile.

If dogs had been able to make footprints on stone, he would have said it was the print of a large hound.

Poor Perrn, still sheltered enough to go "Yep, there couldn't possibly be any kind of evil dog out there that leaves marks in the stone." How stupid of him.

Perrin only shook his head. There was no way to explain to Loial that he did not dare sleep soundly, that even his lightest sleep was full of troubled dreams. Like that odd one with Egwene and Hopper in it.

This helps clarify the timeline, something I meant to be paying more attention to but haven't been in awhile. Tragically, the best WoT timeline on the internet has become rather hard to dig up on search engines of late.

Bedraggled townspeople said a lantern dropped in a barn had started it, and then the fire seemed to run wild, and everything went wrong. Half the buckets that could be found had holes in them. Every last burning wall had fallen outward instead of in, setting houses to either side alight. Flaming timbers from the inn had somehow tumbled as far as the main well in the square, so no one could draw more water from it to fight the fires, and houses had fallen right on top of three other wells. Even the wind had seemed to shift, fanning the flames in every direction.

At this early point in the story, the Pattern is keeping Rand's ta'veren balance as a matter of course; one village gets blessings so the next is cursed. Yet later on it shifts, paying the bad karma off exclusively so it can pay off all the good in the final hours. Note that this outcome is easily as bad as some of those later events now that his mindstate is about as bad though, with the sleep deprivation absolutely catching up to him by this point.

Three more untouched villages had been followed in quick succession, all in one day, by Samaha, where every well in town had gone dry just the night before, and people were muttering about the Dark One; then Tallan, where all the old arguments the village had ever known had bubbled to the surface like overflowing cesspits a morning earlier, and it had taken three murders to shock everyone back to his senses; and finally Fyall, where the crops this spring looked to be the poorest anyone could remember, but the Mayor, digging a new privy behind his house, had found rotted leather sacks full of gold, so none would go hungry.

If my theory that at least part of Rand's ta'veren effects are tied up into his mood, we can assume that his own journey on foot through these villages was rather tumultuous. Probably the boy felt relief for evading captors sometimes, and exhaustion at others.

That is evil, Moiraine. I can’t believe Rand is evil. The Pattern may be shaping itself around him, but how can the Pattern be that evil? It makes no sense, and things have to make sense. If you make a tool with no sense to it, it’s wasted metal. The Pattern wouldn’t make waste.

Perrin has a rather childlike worldview here, one that his own experiences thus far should have disproven. The Pattern makes waste all the time, every bad project out of the smithy is as much a part of the Pattern as the successes. But I don't really blame him for this confusion, living in an era with the Dark One makes it easy to blame all evil on him and assume that without his presence things would always work out.

“I care,” he muttered softly. “Light, I do care.” Moiraine glanced back at him, and he fell silent. He was not sure what the Aes Sedai cared about, beyond Rand.

Likewise, Perrin's deflection of his own potential means he doesn't appreciate that the Pattern making him a ta'veren means it does care to some degree - otherwise it could have picked someone else - and his sheltered upbringing means he doesn't know that the Land and the Dragon are one and that Moiraine, for all her failings, cares about the fate of the whole world.

Remen looked like any of a dozen towns to Perrin—it was full of man-made aromas and man smell; with a strong smell of the river, of course—and he was wondering what Lan could have meant when the hair on the back of his neck stirred as he scented something—wrong. As soon as his nose took it in, it was gone like a horsehair dropped onto hot coals, but he remembered it.

Again, Perrin is scenting a Grey Man. Since he hasn't noticed it since Jarra, it probably has been following Rand exclusively. Lucky for Perrin!

A tall man dressed all in grays and browns sat in the cage, holding his knees under his chin. He had no room to do otherwise. Three small boys were pitching stones at him. The man looked straight ahead, not flinching when a stone made it between the bars. More than one trickle of blood stained his face. The townspeople walking by paid no more mind to what the boys were doing than the man did, though every last one of them looked at the cage, most of them with approval, and some with fear.

If my start to this chapter hasn't clued you in to how I feel about Gaul, my hopes that each and every one of these villagers ends up in a bubble of evil during Tarmon Gaidon and dies horribly should clarify things for you. Gaul is simply the best.

The sign over the door of the inn Lan led them to, nearer the river, read Wayland’s Forge, which Perrin took for a good omen, though there seemed to be nothing of the smithy about the place except the leather-aproned man with a hammer painted on the sign.

Probably used to be a smithy long ago. I wonder if Tuon would say this was a good omen or not.

He could make out a little of what they were saying, about the virtues of ice peppers over furs as cargo and what the troubles in Saldaea might have done to prices.

So are ice peppers plants that are well-adapted to winter conditions, or did those wacky AoL people decide that spice was actually evil and breed peppers that made menthol instead of capsaicin?

The innkeeper himself met them just inside, a plump, bald-headed man with shining brown eyes in a smooth pink face, bowing and dry-washing his hands.

Again, we can infer that he's a good guy solely because fat doesn't stick to evil people. Slides right off.

Moiraine’s voice calmly accepted the title Furlan gave her. It was far from the first time the Aes Sedai had gone under another name, or pretended to be something she was not.

It actually is pretty far from any of those times, Perrin, because Moiraine is a Cairhienien noblewoman. Another way his sheltered upbringing has absolutely not helped him, since virtually anyone else would recognize actual nobility when they saw it.

Hunters for the Horn of Valere, set out from Illian for adventure. And adventure they found, Lady, here in Remen, or just a mile or two upriver, fighting wild Aielmen, of all things. Can you imagine black-veiled Aiel savages in Altara, Lady?

Yeah it's pretty freaking incredible and really would probably be cause for mass panic if people understood what was up and/or there weren't like sixteen causes for mass panic already.

The plump man gave a start when his study reached Perrin’s face, as if, with a Lady and an Ogier present, he had just now noticed Perrin’s yellow eyes. “He would be your servant, Master Andra?” he asked cautiously.

Perrin is not remotely class concious at all and it's adorable.

Lord Orban and Lord Gann faced twenty wild Aielmen with only ten retainers. Ah, fierce was the fighting and hard, with many wounds given and received. Six good retainers died, and every man took hurts, Lord Orban and Lord Gann worst of all, but every Aiel they slew, save those who fled, and one they took prisoner.

Most battles tend to end with everyone dead except those who escaped or were taken prisoner, just saying. This is a good, subtle hint to the readers who might not yet appreciate Aiel prowess that the story is BS.

Men from this very village marched to the Battle of the Shining Walls, when the nations gathered to throw them back. I myself suffered from a twisted back at the time and so could not go, but I remember well, as we all do.

I said the innkeeper was a good guy but you'll note I never said he was a GREAT guy.

The bandaged man muttered something under his breath—under his breath to any ears but Perrin’s—about waiting on a farmwife “throwing her litter” and something else about being “sewn up like a sack of meal.”

I hate to keep dunking on Perrin when it's not his fault half the time but I can't help but feel that since most people don't usually actually mutter quietly enough to make inaudible noise that in fact everyone in the room heard this and Perrin just thinks he's special. Also, fuck Lord Orban. I don't like any of the bit characters in this chapter.

“You lost six, and took one prisoner.” From Lan’s voice, it was not clear if that was a good exchange or a poor one.

But this is why I have to keep dunking on this boy. Perrin. Six is a lot bigger than one and Lan has already all but said, "You didn't fight twenty Aiel and if it weren't for the one in the cage I wouldn't think you'd fought any at all." What part of this can possibly be confusing for you?

The bandaged man frowned as if unsure exactly what Lan meant, then rounded on the innkeeper again.

No Perrin, he frowns as if he's completely sure Lan means, "The Whitecloaks won't find the Aiel, because the Aiel are the best fighting force in the known world and the Whitecloaks, who are probably thirdbest behind the Borderlanders who fight Shadowspawn all the time, don't come close to measuring up, and also Hunters for the Horn aren't anywhere on Lan's top 100 fighting forces list and the known world isn't big enough to have 100 fighting forces!" but he just doesn't want to acknowledge being dunked on because he knows Lan will make him look even stupider if he says much else.

“Our rooms.” Moiraine did not raise her voice, but her words cut the innkeeper short like a sharp knife. “Andra did arrange rooms, did he not?”

Moiraine here knows EXACTLY when the local NPCs have run out of new topics and it's time to go.

At the top, Perrin paused to look back. He heard the murmurs of “Lady” and “Ogier” down there, could feel all those eyes, but it seemed to him that he felt one pair of eyes in particular, someone staring not at Moiraine and Loial, but at him.

Points to Perrin for immediately deploying his "Hot Singles in Your Area Want to Meet" powers instead of whining about them.

He could not quite decide whether she was beautiful or not.

For those in the audience who were confused or blindsided about Thom/Moiraine, this sentence right here is all the evidence you need that these two are destined to FUCK. Learn to ambiguity.

Anyway, next time: Perrin and Gaul become bestest buds.

[cloudspotterclub]

traumatic (j.b.b.)

Pairing: avenger!bucky x parker!reader

Summary: You're convinced Bucky hates you, and you fear the worst when you accidentally insult him.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: spoilers for civil war, mentions of murder, very mild enemies to lovers, barely-there angst, mostly crack and fluff

a/n: This is my very first post ever! This fic honestly doesn't fit anywhere in the mcu timeline lol, let's just pretend civil war never happened and everyone lives together in peace.

I try not to stare, I really do. I never do it on purpose, except if someone says something really scummy and I want them to know they did. But Bucky hardly ever says anything at all, and definitely nothing to warrant a stare-down. My eyes just happen to wander over to him a lot.

As he shifts awkwardly for what must be the thousandth time, I avert my eyes for the thousandth time too. He must think I’m a freak or some wacko groupie that the Avengers pity enough to bring along everywhere. I guess the latter isn’t too far off—I suspect Peter has me over so often because I wouldn’t go out otherwise.

There he is now, barging into the painfully silent kitchen with his ever-oblivious grin. “Hey, cuz! Bucky! What’re you two up to?”

I cringe a little at the ‘you two’. We couldn’t be sitting farther away, him at the dining table staring out the windows and me at the kitchen island. I’m not even sure Bucky’s noticed Peter’s entrance.

“I’m just doing some work stuff, Pete.”

Peter glances over the empty island and frowns, “On your phone? Isn’t it your day off?”

God damn it, Parker.

I try to keep my voice steady to no avail. “Uh, yeah, you know how my boss is. I’m just sending over some files and there’s, like, better reception out here.”

Truth is, I came out here at 4 AM just because I felt like soaking the morning in. I didn’t think Bucky was going to be out here already looking all somber and melancholic. I had debated sneaking away, but he’d already seen me, so I just wordlessly made my way to one of the stools by the island and he went back to studying the skyline.

And that’s where we’ve been for the past three hours. But I wasn’t going to explain that to Peter in front of Bucky. Soaking the morning in? Who’d believe that? He’d think I’m even more of a stalker.

“Huh. I’m telling you, cuz, you should just come work for Mr. Stark. You love administration stuff, right? Ms. Potts is barely his assistant anymore, and I hear she’s looking for a replacement.” Peter drops his voice to an exaggerated whisper, “Rumor is there’s a baby on the way!”

I roll my eyes, “It’s not nice to speculate on whether someone’s pregnant, Peter. Besides, I can’t work here, it’s basically nepotism.”

“I guess, but Mr. Stark’s a nepotism baby. I’m sure he wouldn’t judge you.”

“Peter! You can’t say that—he was orphaned. It’s awful what happened to his parents.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I freeze. Oh. My God.

I can’t bring myself to actually look, but judging by the way Peter’s jaw is hanging open, Bucky definitely heard that.

Suddenly, Peter doesn’t seem so keen on conversation. “Er, I’m gonna head back to my room. Have a streaming party thing with Ned and MJ. Can’t remember why I even came out here in the first place, to be honest. So. See ya, cuz! Bye…Mr. Barnes!”

And with that, Peter disappears and it’s just me and the ex-murderous super soldier I deeply offended.

After cringing for a few more seconds, I build up the courage to look over at him. His eyes are still trained on the skyscrapers littering the city, but something in his demeanor seems different. Is he…holding back a smile?

I can’t do anything but stare incredulously at him. Is this what he looks like right before he goes all Winter Soldier and kills everyone in his direct vicinity? I’ve only ever seen him smile when Steve talks about their days before the serum, so I’m not really sure what to make of this. I think what I’m feeling is fear.

As the thought occurs that I should probably leave, Bucky clears his throat and his eyes meet mine as I’m halfway off the stool. “You don’t have to go.”

“Oh.” I don’t think I’m blinking at all as I sit back down. “I just thought—you know—maybe it’d be better if I left after I—after—”

“What? After you shamed me for the most traumatic experience of my life?” He deadpans, arms across his chest.

I try to swallow the giant lump in my throat. He’s the one staring me dead in the eye now. But definitely not in the way I’d always imagined he would.

With his hair cut short, freshly shaven face, and casual attire, he looks a lot less intimidating than when I first saw him on the news in the full Winter Soldier getup. Still though, everything about his stance feels like he’s challenging me, waiting to strike. I don’t know what he’s waiting for—I couldn’t win in a fight against a feral cat, let alone an Avenger.

Just as I’m contemplating sending a prayer up to a god I don’t believe in, Bucky chuckles. “Relax, I’m kidding. I know you didn’t mean it like that.”

Despite his light tone, I’m still mapping out my escape as he saunters over and takes the seat across from me. “You don’t have to be so antsy around me all the time, you know. I’m not going to kill you.”

I grimace a little at the slight hurt in his voice. “Right, no, I know that. I’m sorry. I just get so awkward around you and end up saying some dumb shit that offends you and only makes you hate me more. I’m really sorry, Bucky.”

He furrows his eyebrows and leans forward a little, “You think I hate you?”

I mimic his confused expression as my words stumble out, “Well, yeah? You never talk to me or look at me, and I feel like you don’t like me hanging around the tower and intruding on your space. That’s why I try really hard to stay out of your way. Which, obviously, doesn’t always work very well.” I close my eyes and cringe at the disaster that was this morning.

Bucky’s lips turn up for the second time today, which is almost scarier than when he glares. Actually, I don’t know if scary is the right word. But I really don’t know how much longer I can handle his intense gaze on me.

“I thought you stayed away because you didn’t like me,” he says, cocking his head slightly.

“What? How could you think that?”

“Like you said, you talk to everyone but me.” He shrugs indifferently, but the twitch in his mouth tells me he cares more than he’s letting on. “Every time I walk in the room, you come up with an excuse to leave. Doesn’t feel too good, to be honest with you.”

I bite my lower lip, the guilt really piling on now. That’s what gives me the courage to look him in the eye again, and suddenly I can’t remember why I was ever afraid of this man whose eyes are pleading for answers. I cast my gaze down at his tightly-laced fingers on the marble between us. His knuckles are turning white.

It doesn’t seem like I’ll get another shot at explaining this, and I might as well get it all out there. So, with caution, I move to the stool right next to Bucky. I suck in a sharp breath when he adjusts and our arms brush together. I can feel his dark eyes boring into the side of my face, urging me to go on. So I do.

“Bucky, I don’t know if you’ve noticed or if my bratty cousin has let it slip, but I kind of had a giant crush on you when we first met.” At this, I can feel him sit up straighter. There’s no going back now. “I used to be really intimidated when you came around, and I didn’t know how to talk to you because you were this cool, mysterious, smoldering Avenger and I was just Peter’s civilian cousin. Plus, you were never as talkative as Sam or Tony. In retrospect, I probably overthought your quietness as a dislike towards me, and so I thought it’d be better to keep my distance. I guess we were both wrong in our assumptions.”

I let myself look up at him, but I can’t decipher the look on his face. His brows are knit together, mouth set in a straight line. His hands have unclenched, each resting on one knee.

I lower my voice, though I don’t mean for it to be so shaky. “I never meant to make you feel unwanted, Bucky. I’m truly sorry.”

He tears his gaze away from me and stands up off of the stool.

Fuck, you’ve really done it this time, you blabbering idiot, I think, squeezing my eyes closed to avoid having to see him storm off.

But instead of hearing his footsteps walking away, I feel a sudden warmth. My eyes shoot open only to see Bucky leaning over me with a hand cupping my cheek. I’ve always known he was big in stature, but I’ve never felt smaller than with him towering over me, making it impossible to see anything that isn’t him. Of course, that might also be because his icy blue eyes are holding me hostage. My breath hitches like I’m seeing him for the first time again.

I don’t realize I’m leaning backwards until I lose my balance and the damn stool gives out from underneath me. Before I can even brace myself, Bucky’s already got both arms around me, his chest pressing against mine, and I’ve never had more trouble catching my breath.

His eyes are now frantically searching over me as he sets me on my feet. “Are you alright? Hey, why are you breathing like that? Shit, you didn’t hit your head on the table, did you?” He punctuates that last sentence with his hands brushing against the back of my head, feeling for any bumps.

The lines on his face deepen, “Doll, say something so I know you’re okay.”

“I’m fine!” I sputter, “Uh, just lost my balance there. And. Forgot how to speak, apparently. Really took me by surprise there, ha. Stools—they’ll get ya!” What the fuck what the fuck.

Realization dawns on Bucky’s face and he’s flashing that smile again. “Ah, stools. Right.” He shifts his weight, dropping his hands to his side as the tension breaks between us. It’s quickly picked back up when he reaches for my hand, which has dissolved into nervous tremors, as has the rest of my body.

He carefully envelops both his hands around mine and takes a step forward. Whiffs of cinnamon and something woody are wafting over me, and I’m becoming increasingly aware that his breathing isn’t much steadier than mine. I have to crane my neck up to meet his eyes again.

His voice drops to a whisper, “For the record, I’m pretty sure I had a crush on you first.”

I shake my head in disbelief, “There’s no way.”

A little half-smile settles on his face as he nods, “Steve’ll tell ya. The first time you visited the compound.”

“Wait, you weren’t there when I first visited. It was just Peter, Tony, Steve, and Bruce.”

He gives a weak chuckle, “No, I was there. I was supposed to introduce myself, but then I saw you with everyone and I completely lost my nerve. I turned right around and spent the rest of the night beating myself up over it. S’pose that’s also why I didn’t talk to you much even after we got properly acquainted.”

My eyes are about to fall out of my head because there is no way Bucky Barnes has just admitted to being intimidated by me. Not this gorgeous, sweet, well-intentioned man that crosses my mind a million times a day.

I feel a light tap on my cheek and focus back on Bucky’s concerned face, “Hey, doll, you’re doing it again. You sure you’re alright?”

“No.” My mouth can’t keep up with all the thoughts clouding over my mind. “You keep calling me doll.”

At that, Bucky’s eyes widen and he quickly releases me, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize—”

“No, I like it.”

“Oh.”

This time, I’m the one snaking my hands up his arms and settling them behind his neck. “Bucky, I still really like you.”

He sighs in relief and brings one hand up behind my head, the other gently stroking my cheek. I wouldn’t have been able to hear his next few words if he hadn’t leaned down until our foreheads touched. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop liking you.”

“Even when I accidentally insult your traumatic past?”

I can feel the smirk growing on his face just before his lips meet mine.

[deadlygronkle]

Chapter 7 of Ancestor's Legacy

Word count: 7131

Warriors watched in silence as Doctor Diane rewrapped Twilight’s wound. Twilight's face showed no pain as he sat at the edge of the bed instead it was contemplative as if remembering something, a thing that has happened more often than not nowadays. 

Warriors wondered if it had something to do with either what Time was going to tell Malon or what Twilight told him in the hallway before they left for the monster ‘pack’. Knowing Twilight it was probably a bit of both.

It didn’t surprise Warriors all that much that he wasn’t the only one who met another Link during their adventure. Hell, he met Wind and Time on his, granted Wind barely remembers it and Time doesn’t like to talk about it because of how much he used the fierce deity mask, but it still counts. 

Warriors glanced over to his right where Time was sitting and it seemed like he was analyzing just how Diane was wrapping Twilight’s wound, which seemed to be healing well from the little he could see from the angle he was at.

What made Warriors curious is that Twilight reacted strongly when Time first showed off his staflos mask, when Time used said mask - going so far as to try to fight him in a blood loss delirious state, and that goddesses forsaken helmet that seemed to be the cause of all this. 

Warriors had a few ideas about how that all added up and most of them ended up with Time dead. Which made sense that from the timeline the Links figured out that Twilight’s time is hundreds of years after Time’s. What concerned Warriors was that Twilight somehow met and fought with what Warriors supposed was Time’s corpse, and that it happened so often that it's second nature to him. 

Warriors face still neutral as Diane explained to Hyrule what he needed to do to take care of Twilight’s wound since she had other patients to take care of. Warrior then resolved to not tell anyone about his theories and instead would confront the rancher at a far later day, preferably at night when they are trading shifts. 

Warriors hid a snicker at how Diane tried to get Twilight’s attention and Twilight, being off in his own little world didn't realize he was being called. From the years of Warriors dealing with Diane as a field medic knew she didn’t put up with anything from anyone, including Zelda herself. 

After a few more times of Diane calling Twilight’s name she huffed and went around to finish her work on tying up Twilight’s wound. Though at the very end Warriors could tell that Diane made one harsh tug on purpose to gain Twilight’s attention.

Twilight hissed in pain at the unnecessary tug and glared behind him at Diane who had a blank face while she secured the bandages with a safety pin.

“Oh good, you're paying attention. As I was saying, your friend Hyrule is going to be taking care of your injury as I have other patients across the castle that need my attention. So if you have any questions, now's your chance.” The Doctor said this while walking away and collecting some medical items and either putting them in her bag or handing them to Hyrule.

“Where did my clothes and items go?” Twilight asked, frowning. 

The doctor raised an eyebrow “That’s all? Well any items that have a magical signature like that hawk mask are at the top drawer of the table.” The doctor said this while nodding to the bedside table, “The clothes should be in the bottom compartment. The weapons you had on you were over there but since they are not over there anymore I assume your friends and father took it to your other belongings.” The Doctor said, pointing across the room.

Several people choked, with Time’s turning into full blown coughing. Warriors patted Time’s back hiding his own silent laughing in the movement. Glancing to his left he saw the other Links with varying degrees of humor from Wild turning around in his chair, shoulders shaking heavily, to Sky smiling serenely while pulling out Twilight’s tunic

“I’m not– He’s not– I mean we’re related but–” Twilight stuttered out face and ears red with embarrassment. 

Warriors leaned back still smiling and patting Time’s back as he slowly started not to cough. Thinking back on when they first met Twilight it is amazing that they made it from cold to friendly and kind in the short time they all have been traveling together.

FLASHBACK

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Warriors and the others first met Twilight they were missing two other members: Wind and Wild.

The remaining links were teleported to a dense forest and after hours of searching and fighting monsters they stumbled into a clearing. The clearing had a path at their right and on the left was a stone door that seemed to be a part of a giant tree. In the middle of the clearing were two monkeys looking identical besides a flower tucked behind one their ears. The monkeys, noticing the heavily armed travelers, started howling and took off down the path on the right.

The Links, tired from traversing the forest decided to deal with whatever comes with the monkeys when it comes and started to set up their camp.

After they finished making camp the forest went quiet as if the entire area around them was holding its breath in anticipation. Warriors could see in the corner of his eye all of the others tensed along with him at the sudden silence. Warriors thinks they all can agree on the fact that silence in such a big forest isn’t a good thing.

Warriors had been patrolling around the clearing with Time patrolling on the opposite side of him. They both stayed away from the path leading up to the door as it was giving off an eerie aura that brought everyone even more on edge.

That’s when they heard the unmistakable noise of now quiet monkey chatter and tiny feet hitting the ground, but what made everyone draw their swords was the sound of much heavier steps accompanying the lighter ones. Time and Warriors from across the camp nodded at each other before putting themselves in between the path and the camp.

What came next was something that surprised Warriors. The monkeys instead of running over and attacking, they instead burst through into the clearing pointing and chittering at an unknown figure. The figure slowly came into view carrying a light source, with blue eyes that seemed to reflect the light.

The eyes looked like they belonged to a wild animal, but as it got closer they could make out a humanoid figure. As the figure broke through into the clearing the forest slowly started from the quiet whisper it was at to a normal level of noise for a forest.

Through what little light sources there were as the figure got closer.Warriors could see the figure of a male hylian. The closer the man got the easier it was for Warriors to see that his light source was actually a lantern and that in his other hand he was carrying a sharp looking sword. The man stopped several feet away from Time and Warriors and despite the limited light Warriors took to getting a good look at the man.

Warriors could’ve easily mistaken him as a simple rancher because of his clothes, if not for the expression on his face and the sword and what looked to be a shield on his back. The man carried himself like someone who has seen and fought in his fair share of battles.

“Y’all are squatting on forbidden grounds. Do you have a death wish or are you just that ignorant?”  the man said as if he had this conversation with people everyday.

“No sir, you see we aren't exactly from around here and were just making camp till morning and then we would try and find civilization. Do you know where we are exactly?” Warriors explained trying to be polite to the local hylian. Despite trying to be polite he gripped his sword tightly at the armed stranger.

‘This guy is strange he came this far into the forest without any armor and yet he doesn’t show any sign of tiredness or signs that he fought anything on the way here. Not one to be underestimated.’ Warriors noted meeting the strangers analytical stare with one of his own.

The man snorted “Like hell I believe that. Six heavily armed hylians in front of the doors into the Forest Temple? It doesn’t take Queen Zelda’s wisdom to realize something is up here. There’s still traces of Twilight that would corrupt you if you went in and I rather not have to deal with that. Now why are y’all really here?” The man said, eyes narrowing and visibly preparing for a fight.

Legend scoffed but before he could say anything Time stepped in front of Warriors, having put away his biggoron sword, he put his hands up facing the man. “What my companion meant to say is that yes we got turned around back there and didn’t know that this was a sacred temple nor that it was forbidden land. We are actually looking for someone, the hero of this era if you happened to know him.” 

When Time came out and stood in front of Warriors the man had lost his fighting stance and with slightly widened eyes he stared at Time, or more accurately staring at his armor. When Time had spoken the man quickly looked up at Time with a slight look of surprise like he recognized him. Glancing at Time’s back, Warriors could tell he did not share the same surprise the man did.

After a long pause the man’s face went back to normal and he said, looking over at them to the door, “This place is anything but sacred after all the blood it has had spilled on its grounds.” he looked back down at the chain, “What do y’all want the ‘hero’ for?”

“Wait, do you know where he is?” Four asked from his spot tending to the fire looking over at the man, unbelieving that they got that lucky. 

“Maybe, depends on whether or not my questions get answered, either way the ‘hero’ as you call ‘im doesn’t exactly trust strangers and their tall tails.” The man replied coolly, raising an eyebrow at the multi color tunic man. 

When Warriors had glanced back at Four he could see that the monkeys at this point had started to nose around the freshly made camp examining a few things before moving on to the next thing. Which no one in the camp seemed to really mind at the current moment.

“We need him for a quest given to us by the goddesses themselves to fight a coming evil, we are heroes from our own era’s and fought evil just like he did.” Warriors replied trying to convince the man to help them.

“Do you have anything to back up that story?” The man asked, having extinguished his lantern and is now leaning on his sword. Looking like he was at ease but prepared to fight at a seconds notice.

Time nodded before slowly taking off his gauntlet to which Warriors put a hand on Time’s shoulder and hissed “What are you doing?”

Time looked over his shoulder at Warriors and whispered “We need him to trust us so we can get out of here,” looking back he finished taking off his gauntlet and showed the man his triforce while saying, “This is the triforce of courage and just like the hero of this time we all have it.” 

The man’s eyes hardened as he straightened up and after a very long moment ordered “Pack up your camp now we leave as soon as you're done!”

“What?” Sky asked, giving the man a confused look.

“You said you wanted to meet the hero, yeah? I can’t let you all camp out here so you're coming with me, luckily this ‘hero’ of yours lives close by at Ordon.” The man stated matter of factly.

“Aren’t monsters stronger at night here? Why would we want to deal with that after running around the forest?” Legend interrupted, annoyed at the bossy tone the guy took up.

“Usually, but luckily for you, you aren’t in Hyrule Field and the monsters here tend to avoid me even during the night. Unlike all of you who are fresh meat and easy pickings to some of the creatures in here. Though the ‘running around the forest’ is on you for doing that.” The guy stated, waving his free right hand flippantly.  

“And if we don’t want to go with you?” Legend questioned.

“Then I’ll bring you out of here by force, and your ‘goddess given’ quest will be at an end either by my sword or in chains by Hyrule’s soldiers. The man answered loosely.

“Why would we be arrested for camping here?” Sky asked, confused at the hostile tone.

“Queen Zelda had ordered all temples and dungeons to be guarded until the last of the Twilight fades, and if anyone tries to enter, or suspected of trying to enter, they are to be detained for questioning. I watch over this area along with the monkeys and Ordon village. Now is that all of your questions, because we really need to leave before Ook decides I’m taking too long and that guy doesn’t try to talk things out.” the man said impatiently as if he had explained this many times.

Warriors looked back at the group to see faces of confusion, hesitation, and stubbornness. Which Warriors could relate to after all the guy just came in and started ordering everyone around. Though Warriors can concede to the fact that they are in his home or whatever this place is to the guy.

Before Legend could continue the argument Time interjected “How long will it take for us to arrive at Ordon?”

“Not very long, I can assure you I plan to be back before sunrise.”

Time looked back towards his group and said “All right pack up everyone we are heading out with….” Time looked back at the man in front of him “I am sorry your name is?”

“....Call me Rusl.” The man answered. Despite the man answering easily enough, Warriors had a feeling that wasn't his name. 

After everyone collected their belongings from the camp, and the monkeys who tried to take off with Hyrule’s and Four’s rupee pouches only to be stopped by Rusl, who was at the time circling their camp, for unknown reasons. 

After all belongings were sorted and given to their proper owners they headed off. Rusl led the way followed by Time, Warriors, Legend, Sky, Hyrule and Four in that order. A strange thing Warriors noticed about their guide was that unlike the Links, who had to use torches so they could see, Rusl didn’t need to. Rusl was able to walk the path, jumping over every root, fallen tree and everything in his path with ease, all without relighting his lantern. 

    Another weird thing he noticed was that the monsters didn’t seem to want to attack them. Sure Warriors could see the reflected eyes of bokoblins, but they seemed to not want to move onto the path to attack. Warriors made the mistake of taking a step towards a tree where he saw reflective eyes closer to the semi beaten down path than the others. Just as he took a step forward a bokoblin rushed out and jumped on him pinning him to the ground.

As Warriors struggled against the bokoblin a sword pierced its head making it disintegrate. Warriors sat up and looked over to where the sword came from to see Rusl had seemingly shoved Time to the side and thrown his sword like a spear at the offending monster. 

Rusl walked over to retrieve his sword that, at the monster's disintegration, had fallen in Warriors’ lap. He silently picked up his sword and seemingly gave Warriors a once over and muttered a “be more careful” before walking past Time and continuing down the path.

Warriors felt a pang of irritation as he hurried to stand up, shoving the feeling down. At a concerned look Time gave that Warriors translated into ‘Are you alright?’ he made a face paired with a thumbs up as if to say ‘Not injured but my pride is’. To which Time’s face went from concern to annoyance as he rolled his eye and turned back around.  Warriors grinned at the reaction as it was the same one Time gave him when he helped Warriors with the war in his Hyrule when he did that.

As they kept walking through the darkness the Links talked quietly among themselves. “We can't trust this Rusl guy can we?” Legend whispered, staring at the back of their guide.

“No way, did you see how he threw his sword? Not to mention I have the feeling he isn't telling us the whole truth.” Four agreed as Warriors nodded in agreement.

“He can’t be that bad. I mean he is leading us to the hero here and he saved Warriors,” Sky whispered back.

“Yeah but I’ve had enemies do the exact same thing.” Warriors rebutted. 

Rusl stopped as the road opened up into a chamber like area nearly everyone stopped but Four kept walking seemingly deep in thought. As Four passed Rusl, Rusl grabbed onto his hood, and yanked him back with enough force to send Four to his butt a couple feet away from where he was previously standing. 

“Careful, there’s some strong poison here.” As Rusl said this he grabbed his Lantern and ignited it. Once it was lit the Links could easily see the thick green cloud that covered the ground that Four was about to walk right into. 

“So how do we get through? There doesn’t seem to be a way around.” Time asked, walking over to help Four up and check on him. When Time received an affirmative that Four was indeed all right, he quickly walked up to stand next to Rusl.

“Well usually I would go by the trees,” As Rusl said this he gestured with his sword to the branches over the fog that for Warriors seemed way too far apart to jump from branch to branch. “But seeing as you fellas can’t do that we will have to settle the ol’ fashioned way.”

Before Time could grab their guide's shoulder to stop him, the man walked straight into the green fog. Surprisingly enough for everyone else Rusl was completely fine, in fact the fog dissipated in a semicircle around him.

“The fog will temporarily dissipate when it comes in contact with light, but you have to make sure to wave around the light to get a good distance between you and the fog and continue to do it or else the fog will return.” Rusl said this while demonstrating waving his lantern back and forth. Warriors watched as the fog receded even further away from the man fascinated at the weird fog.

“How the hell do you even learn that?” Legend asked, waving some of the fog with his torch away.

“The monkeys” Rusl supplied, not explaining further.

“Right…” 

They continued quickly through the fog not wanting to spend any more time there than needed. A few times their guide quickly killed a Baba with a quick explanation of “Deku Baba nasty little things”. After everyone made it out of the fog Rusl’s lantern extinguished without any prompting from Rusl.

“Little too close for comfort but luckily made it through none the worse for wear.” Rusl joked, shaking his extinguished lantern, “We’ve made it through the worst of it but we still have a bit to go.”

‘So that’s why he didn’t relight his lantern,’ Warrior thought.

“Is there any place for us to rest? We’ve been going all day before even getting teleported to this forest.” Sky asked quietly, not wanting to anger their new companion.

“If you mean for sleep no, you ain’t the only ones that have been going all day. Though for a short break we can manage at Coro’s Hut while I replenish my lantern oil.” Rusl said, bending down to examine something unseeable on the path. 

As they continued to walk, Warriors and Time decided to strike up conversation with their guide. “So what were you doing before the monkeys brought you to us? That gear isn’t exactly made for running around a forest.” Warriors asked, trying to find out more about the strange man.

“I was herding goats to their barn, then when I took my horse to wash off in Ordon spring the monkeys came and sounded urgent and you know the rest.” Rusl replied in a short manner. Warriors highly doubted that they knew everything.

“Oh? You have a horse? What’s her name?” Time asked doing his silent prodding thing.

“Epona,” Rusl said shortly. Time and Warriors shared a look, both of them having their own Epona. 

“Who was this Ook you mentioned earlier?” Warriors asked to see if they could continue this mostly one sided conversation.

“Monkey Boss, he was corrupted in the temple that you foolishly decided to try to camp outside,” Rusl stopped looking to the right, “We’re here go do what you need to do.” Not waiting for a response he stalked over to the man with an afro who perked up seeing Rusl.

Time and Warriors exchanged a look before leading the chain to the man sitting in front of a campfire. Warriors took to looking around the area as they walked towards them.

. It was a small hut in the middle of nowhere, appearing to be made poorly with mismatched and crooked boards, and for some reason to the side of it there was a straw training dummy with several arrows in its head. This area had to be the Coro's hut Rusl mentioned earlier. 

On the fire there was a pot filled with mysterious gray liquid that seemed to move thickly and yet bubbled like water. The man Rusl was talking to happily had a large afro with a bird nest on the top. This was the first time Warriors got a good look at ‘Rusl’s’ face.

Rusl had short dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and strange dark markings along his face made a shape that was almost like a target in between his eyebrows with a line along the bridge of his nose. Below his eyes and above his eyebrows there were black lines that seem to be a part of the markings. 

He was tan from years of working out in the fields and had a stocky build. As he talked and smiled at who could only be Coro, Warriors could see sharp, fanged teeth in Rusl’s mouth. If Warriors had to guess his age it would be around his own.

Warriors and Time walked up to catch the tail end of what Coro was saying to Rusl “Well it is a relief that whatever sent those monkeys into a tizzy could easily be solved as guiding people out of the forest!” Coro said happily.

“Yep, now I ran out of oil for my lantern as well. Is it still 20 rupees for refill Coro?” Rusl asked sheathing his sword and removing a small sack from his belt.

“Yup but we are running a special deal and for just 5 more rupees you and your new friends get some of the soup I am making!” Coro happily said bring the gourd from behind his back to fill up the lantern. 

“Sounds like a deal to me. You solved the whole poison thing with your last batch I tried yeah?” Rusl said, handing him a red and blue rupee from his bag.

“Yup turns out it was the blue chu jelly all along.” Coro replied, pocketing the money before taking the lantern and refilling it. Coro then took out a bowl and filled it up with the strange liquid and handed it to Rusl.

Rusl turned around and looked at the links “Anyone want some?” The gray liquid was still bubbling in the bowl.

Hyrule raised his hand before it was quickly put back down by Legend who said “Yeah no we’re good.”

Rusl shrugged and to the horror of Warriors downed the strange concoction in one go. Wiping his face Rusl went “Yeah that definitely better than the last batch, less pumpkin seeds next time and it will be your best batch yet!”

Warriors turned away covering his mouth with one hand and the other on his gut at the disgusting display. When Warriors turned back around Rusl had already given his bowl back to Coro.

Coro gave Rusl a bright smile before saying “Thanks guy! You might need to get back on the road to Ordon soon before that scary lady comes looking for you.” Coro shuddered, “I still have nightmares about that, unlike that wolf that comes by she is scarier than Iza.”

Rusl laughed “Don’t worry I’ll be back before Uli even realized I was gone, and if not that I’ll be back before she sets out on a warpath again.”

Rusl looked back to Time and Warriors who were standing there awkwardly “Well are you and your group ready to head out again? We are on the easier half of the journey now.”

Time coughed before saying “Yes,” Addressing the rest of his group he said “All right we are heading out now!”

In a few minutes they were on the road again, but not without a few grumbles from some of the Links about that not being a very good break. As they walked they passed an entrance to what looked like a spring that seemed to emanate a peaceful feeling. That feeling, Warriors had noted, was completely opposite to the Forest Temple’s erie aura. 

“What's up with that spring over there?” Time asked, still walking right behind Rusl, unlike Warriors who had stepped back to talk with the other Links, who were now quiet so they could listen to Time and Rusl’s conversation.

“That’s Faron Spring, home to the light spirit Faron. It has incredible healing properties that can even save someone from the brink of death.” Rusl supplied looking over at the Spring with an indecipherable look.

“Light spirits? I have never heard of those before. What are they like?” Time asked curiously.

“There are four total Ordona, Faron, Eldin, and Lanayru; they once in times long ago protected Hyrule against invaders and ever since then they have protected the lands and are worshipped Hyrule proper and Ordon.” Rusl replied with a far off stare.

“Do you know what they look like?” Time asked, growing more curious about the history of this place.

“Ordona is a goat, Faron is a monkey thing, Eldin is a bird of some sort I think owl, and Lanayru is a serpent.” Rusl replied but quickly added on “Or so I am told by the ‘hero’, not many people have seen their true forms or them in general.”

Four before Time could ask another question asked “Why do you keep saying hero like that?”

Warriors looked down at the smallest Link and was surprised at the sudden forwardness. Though the frustrated look on his face said it all, he was as suspicious as Warriors was himself.

Rusl let out a short bitter laugh before replying “Not many people know of what happened and what the ‘hero’ did for all of Hyrule. He worked in silence, so for everyone but a few groups like the Zoras and Gorons, the majority know nothing. Even then those he helped only knew of the problem within their own place.”

Warriors narrowed his eyes at the sudden splurge of information by Rusl. Just by the information he let slip there was a decent possibility that this man was the one they were searching for. 

They walked in silence for a while until they got to a long swaying bridge that spanned over a chasm. Rusl walked on to it with no difficulties and continued to walk without pause or break despite the swaying. Rusl stopped and turned around at the hesitant Links who were staring at the bridge with distrust.

“What’s the hold up? If it's about the bridge I can guarantee you that in my life it has never broken, even with a horse running across it at full gallop.” Rusl said, looking at the sky he added “And hurry up will you its nearly sunrise.”

Warriors was surprised at the fact that it was nearly sunrise already ‘had it really been that long already?’ he thought.

. It was slow going for the Links, despite the ease that Rusl seemed to walk across it only Sky had no trouble with crossing.  Once after everyone got across the bridge Rusl picked up the pace and yelled back when they passed a spring “That’s Ordon Spring home of Ordona.”

They quickly made it to a clearing and were greeted by a mare walking over to rub on Rusl. Rusl was quick to stroke the mare's nose while whispering apologies to her. Warriors stared at the horse and it was a near spitting image of his own horse that he left behind which meant that this horse was Epona.

Epona snorted at Rusl before walking over to the Links to sniff them. The Links all had varying reactions from fear (Hyrule), indifference (Legend and Four), Confusion (“This is what a horse is like?” Sky had whispered at Legend who nodded), to appreciation (Time and Warriors).

Despite the fact that this Epona is a working farm horse and not just a soldier’s horse her fur was incredibly soft. Epona after judging everyone walked over to a sign that was semi close sign and upon further by Warriors it said:

‘Link’s and Epona’s house’, 

Looking up Warriors saw a tree house, it wasn’t like a house made of wood on stilts, but a house with a purple roof fused into the tree. It was an odd sight to say the least for Warriors. The wooden door was around 8 feet off the ground with a ladder leading up to it. 

Before Warriors could vocalize the discrepancy of the names. He heard a loud yell of “Link!”. By the time Warriors had backed up near the other Links the owner of the voice disappeared but not the noises from inside the Treehouse. There were a lot of bangs and crashes from inside that, looking at ‘Rusl’s’ face, was an usual occurrence given how much he was wincing with every crash and bang. 

A young boy threw open the door looking close to tears.The boy had straight blond hair that was cut at his chin. Warriors had reasoned that the boy couldn’t have been more than 12 years old. The boy was also wearing clothes similar to Rusl which must have been an Ordon village thing. 

The boy shouted out a happy “Link you’re back!”. Rusl or now revealed as Link ran over only for the kid to jump down, not using the ladder at all, and getting caught by Link.

“Colin! What are you doing up so early? Does Uli know about this?” Link asked, setting down Colin after giving him a quick hug.

Colin looked up and blurted out “Ma sent me out here to give you some dinner last night, but you weren’t home and when I went to the spring I saw Epona there alone. So I decided to spend the night at your place in case you came back during the night.” Colin said all of this without breathing once.

“Calm down the monkeys just came and wanted to show me something and when I got over there I found these bums camping outside the forest temple.” Link gestured behind him at the group staring at the two of them.

Colin peeked out from where he stood in front of Link, his baby blue eyes looking at them warrily “Why are they here? If they were lost you would’ve just handed them off to Coro who would’ve sent them on their way.”

Before Link could reply Warriors walked over and knelt next to Link “You see Colin was it?” When Warriors got a nod he continued “We are looking for the hero of this time, they should have the triforce of courage like this.” As he said this Warriors took off his gauntlet and showed off his triforce, “Your friend… Rusl here told us that he was in this village.”

Colin wrinkled his nose “Rusl is my dad, this is Link and he has a birthmark that looks like that one,” Colin looked up at Link “Did you do the thing again when you purposely give someone the wrong name?”

Link laughed looking down “Yup, you’re lucky I didn’t use your name this time.” Link's gaze hardened as he looked at Warriors and the rest of them “Like Colin said I am the one you are looking for, but after spending time with y’all I have to say my days of defending Hyrule is over.” When Link said this he slightly unwrapped his hand and the other Links could see the triforce of courage peek out.

“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice, son. Either way you’ll be teleported with us now that we have found you. You aren’t the first of us that doesn’t want to do this, believe me.” Time said, stepping forward, matching Link’s glare with one of his own, “So either you come with us now with all your gear or risk coming with us with nothing.”

They had the stare off for a while until Colin said “Go with them Link,” Link broke the eye contact to look at Colin in shock “ I mean ma and da will understand and you’ll have more stories to tell us when you return!” 

Time then said “I know it isn’t ideal for any of us but the goddesses brought us to you for a reason.”

“Save it old man,” Link looked back down to Colin “Will you go tell everyone that I am leaving for a bit?” When Colin nodded, Link ruffled his hair before saying “I’m counting on you to help defend the village and practice the sword techniques I’ve taught you.”

Colin puffed up and said “Don’t worry I will protect this place! You better send some letters to!” 

“Don’t worry I will. Now go on, everyone will be up soon.” At Link saying this Colin took off running from the only other path out of there.

Link looked back up and calmly said “Let me get my gear real quick and then we will be on the way.” 

Before Link could make it far up the ladder Time, who was quietly dubbed as this Link’s whisperer by the others, said “Wait we need a nickname for you,” At Link’s confused look he explained “We all are named Link so we go by titles, like mine is the hero of time so I go by Time, or like Four goes by Four since he carries the Four Sword.”

Link got up to the door and when he opened it he said, not looking at anyone, “Call me Twilight.” Twilight then walked into his house and the Chain gained another Link that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

END OF FLASHBACK

Sky gently interrupted Twilight's sputters, and knocking Warriors out of his memories, saying “I have been working on repairing you clothes though there is nothing we can do about your chainmail since we don’t know its made of,” Sky lifted the finished tunic up for Twilight to see, “I am not the best but I think this will work till we get to your Hyrule for a change of armor and clothes.”

“You wouldn’t find the material anywhere in this Hyrule so it's fine, and thank you it will most definitely work until whenever that is,” Twilight said admiring the work as Wild and Time forcibly helped him lay back down on the bed. 

After he was settled back down in the bed Twilight frowned “Though what happened to my chainmail to break it so much it's irreparable?”

Warriors winced “Yeah that was me. I needed to break it so Hyrule could treat it while we got you to the castle. On the bright side your wolf pelt and waist thingy are still in tip top shape!”

Before Twilight could respond sarcastically like he usually does Diane interrupted “Well if that’s all I really must be going.”

“It is, thank you Doctor…” Twilight trailed off realizing he never got her name.

“Diane and I am just doing my job.” she said walking out the door, closing it behind her.

After a few minutes of silence Warriors decided to break it saying “Hey Twi, can you ask you a question about your journey?”

Twilight stared at him with a suspicious look, “.... You get one question.”

“When we first met you mentioned how the Forest Temple still had Twilight that would corrupt us. What did you mean by that?”

Twilight snorted “You still remember that?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You came trapezing through the forest to find us via monkey escorts and was like ‘why the fuck are you in my forest?’. It made quite the first impression.” Warriors smirked, adding on “You can’t forget the fact that you threw your sword like a spear, saving me from a bokoblin!”

“Yeah we all thought we were going to be fighting a monster with how quiet the forest went!” Four jokingly exclaimed.

Twilight chuckled, “In my defense I was already in a bad mood that day and having a bunch of heavily armed hylians in front of The Forest Temple was just a cherry on top of a shitty day.” 

“Fair enough. Now answer the question Rancher.” Warriors said grinning. 

“Uh… Where to start….” Twilight mumbled barely being picked up by Warriors’ ears.

“So like I said before Hyrule was covered in a blanket of magic called the Twilight Zone, the only reason why Zant was able to do this was because he managed to steal power from the light spirits. So after discovering it for the first time chasing after the children of my village I went around taking the power back.” Twilight said before quieting again for a moment thinking.

“Twi are you going to tell us the rest of it?” Wild asked curious to where the story was going.

“Yes, be patient Cub.” Twilight said “ As I was saying, I had to go around Hyrule collecting their power and giving it back to them. It just so happened that the dungeons all had pieces of ancient artifacts from the Twilight realm. So when mixed together the Twili magic and the Twilight magic basically made a toxic aura around the dungeons making monsters stronger, and the species like the gorons and yetis it corrupted them, making them lust for power and fusing with the artifact.”

“What’s the difference?” Legend interrupted.

“What?”

“The difference between Twili magic and Twilight magic.”

Twilight thought for a moment “I am not sure. I guess it would have to do with the dark magic used by Ganon when bringing Twili magic to Hyrule. Twili magic is more of teleporting and shit from what I’ve seen and Twilight magic is what happens when you mix light, shadow, and dark magic together. Twilight magic also feels more dirty, like it's forcing its will on you and tainting your soul, while Twili magic feels more like you can refuse it.”

Warriors pondered Twilight’s words for a moment. With the way he talked about how corruptive Twilight magic was, it was no wonder Twilight hated using magic. Warriors glanced at the markings on Twilight’s face and wondered if the whole tainting your soul bit caused that.

“Back to the story. I had to go around and collect these artifacts for my friend to get home, despite the artifacts and the bosses being defeated, some of the Twilight still lingered in those areas.  So it made it dangerous for anyone besides me and Zelda to go near them in case they turned into a poe or corrupted by the residue magic.”

“Why could you two go in there and not anyone else?” Wind asked, seemingly happy for the story.

“I thought this was supposed to be one question not fifty,” Twilight mumbled, sighing he answered the Sailor’s question, “It is because we are protected by the Triforce and at the time I was protected by the Master Sword as well. Since Zelda had a kingdom to run and was not as experienced as I am in the…. Uses of Twilight magic, I was given the task of going to all the different dungeons to check on them for any stray travelers that defied her command. After Ganon was killed and the Twilight mirror was shattered of course.”

Twilight paused hesitatingly, “Despite the constant vigilance our allies kept on the dungeons, Zelda was wary of trusting their words in their letters, so she kept ordering me to go to the different dungeons and see for myself.” 

Twilight chuckled bitterly “It got old quick. Eventually I just stopped answering her summons and put the Master sword back in its pedestal. In fact the day I found you was the day Zelda sent a bunch of guards to escort me up to the castle. Luckily for me though they are cowards who were scared by even the tiniest howl.”

“So what I am getting from this is that if we ever go to your Hyrule again, that your Zelda might send a fully armed battalion after you if she ever catches wind you’re back?” Wild asked.

“Yep,” Twilight said, popping the ‘p’.

“Good to know.”

Everyone was silent for a while before the soft sound of snoring echoed through the room. Warriors glanced over from the window where he was watching the knights do some last bit of training before the sun went down. Warriors hid a snort as he saw Twilight laying there sleeping. 

Time got up and fixed the blanket on Twilight before motioning for the rest of them to follow him to the door. As quietly as any holder of the triforce of courage can manage they all slowly went to the door one by one. 

Warriors was one of the last two left and after he walked out the door he heard Time’s voice whisper “Sleep well Pup.” before joining the rest of the group in the hallway quietly closing the door behind him. 

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: epilogue (reader)

Summary: An early morning, a doctor’s appointment, a new beginning.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: pregnancy (including like… probably incorrect math and science but my degree was in English and this is fanfiction okay)

Word count: 2.7k

a/n: I’m actually so emotional don’t look at me thanks ♥️

Series Masterlist

———

The sound of Spencer’s ringtone pierced through the early morning quiet, shrill and disconsolate. Y/N hummed against his chest, shifting as he clumsily reached across to the bedside table to answer it. 

“Hey,” he croaked, voice still smothered in sleep. “Mm... When?” He paused, and she could almost make out the answer on the other end. “Got it. Yeah.” 

He carefully set the phone back on the bedside table, and then his arms came around her shoulders. He let out a long sigh, the one she’d gotten quite used to over the last year and a half— the one that meant he had to go. She squeezed him around the middle and let out her own sigh. “Case?”

“Yeah.” He ran light fingers down her arm. “Jet’s taking off in ninety minutes.”

She glanced at the bedside table to the alarm clock that read 4:57am. They both knew he needed to leave within the next half hour if he was going to make it on time, but neither one made any effort to move. Instead, they breathed together in the pre-dawn stillness— a single moment of peace before the world and all its ugliness could crash through the fortress they’d constructed around their space and around each other.

“I don’t wanna go,” he whispered. 

“I know.” She pressed a kiss over his heart through his t-shirt. “I know.”

“I’m gonna miss everything,” he lamented. “Appointments, and milestones, and firsts, and I— I’m gonna miss all of it.”

She lifted her head at the tears in his voice. “Hey.” She shifted in the circle of his arms to prop herself up on his chest. “You’re not gonna miss all of it. You’ll miss this one appointment. And it’s— it’s not even an important one,” she assured, gentle fingers swiping away the lone tear that had managed to escape over his lash line. 

“Yes, it is.” He shook his head. “They're all important.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile, leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips before sitting up and deciding to reassure him in the only way she knew how. “Okay, doctor. Eleven weeks. Tell me what we’re gonna find out today.” 

She pulled him up out of bed, interlacing their fingers and pressing their shoulders together. As she led him to the bathroom, he explained, “Dr. Layton will do the first ultrasound, and Baby will look more like a baby now. At around ten weeks they made the transition from embryo to fetus. They’ll be about two inches long.” 

She handed him his toothbrush and turned to grab his toiletry go-back from the linen closet, stifling a yawn. “Mmhm. What else?”

“Did you know they’re breathing now?” he asked, and she smiled at the way the excitement crept into his voice. “Between weeks ten and eleven, the fetus starts to inhale and exhale small amounts of amniotic fluid, which aids in the development of their lungs. It’s kind of like they’re breathing underwater.” 

“I didn’t know that,” she admitted, turning back to set the bag on the counter. “That’s pretty amazing. What about the heartbeat?”

He nodded vigorously as he applied toothpaste to the bristles of his brush. “We should be able to hear it, although sometimes it’s too early— depending on the accuracy of the estimated date of conception.”

He ran the water over the toothbrush before popping it into his mouth. She kissed his shoulder and then moved back into the bedroom, shuffling into their closet for his go bag. She checked it over on her way back to the bathroom, ensuring it had been fully repacked after the last case. She set it on the counter and placed his toiletry bag inside, leaving it open for him to pack his toothbrush and then sitting on the closed toilet lid. 

He rinsed his mouth and put his travel cap over the head of his toothbrush, gesturing with it and then dropping it into the bag. “They’ll do some routine lab work to test for things like gestational diabetes, and we can also choose to do additional screeners for chromosomal abnormalities and possible complications.” He looked at her then, and she saw the despondence creeping back in. “I should really be there, just— just in case.”

“Honey.” She stood and held out her hand to him, smiling a little when he accepted it with a squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

He let out a breath and pulled her into his arms, and they held each other in the silence, the soft light from the vanity washing over them. His phone buzzed with an incoming message, and she knew he needed to get on the road. Still, she held him for a second longer, and then they shuffled through the door and into the bedroom together. 

Y/N made her way back to bed, scooting down under the duvet to preserve the last remaining notes of his body warmth. She watched as he dressed silently, pulling on trousers, socks, a button up and cardigan. He skipped the tie in favor of coming to sit on the bed, bringing his hand to rest lightly over top of her belly over the covers. 

She covered his hand with her own and laced their fingers together. “Maybe you could ask Luke if you can FaceTime with his phone. You can probably take twenty minutes, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He rubbed a tired hand over his face. “Maybe I should just upgrade my own phone.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Oh, I see how it is. Couldn’t upgrade for me, but once a baby comes along you’re ready for an iPhone.” 

“That’s not— you— you shouldn’t have to do all of this alone,” he huffed, and she realized her joke didn’t land when his voice cracked at the end. 

“Spence, I’m— I’m just teasing.” She lifted her hands to his face, pulling him closer and meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry; you’re upset, and that wasn’t nice.” 

She leaned up to kiss his forehead, letting her lips linger and breathing him in. “But I’m not alone. With you, I feel— the opposite of alone.”

“Irritated?” he offered. 

“No,” she laughed. “Supported, and cared for, and loved,” she corrected with a smile. “You’ve been all of that since day one. And I know that’s not going to change, whether you’re physically present in that doctor's office or not. Right?” 

When he nodded, she continued, “I love you. The most. And you are easily the best baby daddy on planet earth. Okay?”

The term of endearment dragged a smile from him, as it always did. “Okay.”

She leaned forward to press her lips to his, both sets upturned and a little dry from sleep. “Now, you need to go, or you’re gonna be late.”

“I know.” He kissed her again, long and slow, and then pulled back to lean their foreheads together. He hesitated for another ten seconds before standing to grab his bag from the bathroom. 

When he re-emerged, she reminded him, “Ask Luke about the FaceTime thing. I’m sure he won’t mind, and we can trust him to keep the secret. The appointment technically starts at 1:00, but I probably won’t be seen until at least 1:30.”

He crossed to give her another kiss. “I love you.” He crouched to press a kiss to her tummy. “And you.”

“We love you, too,” she smiled, fingers tangling in his curls. “And we’ll talk to you in a few hours.”

She kissed him one more time— couldn’t help herself. And then his warmth was gone from the bed, and the house was suddenly much too quiet. She snuggled back down under the duvet, her head on his pillow and the scent of his shampoo shrouding her senses and easing her mind.

Spencer really was supportive— endlessly so. Not overbearing, but interested and involved in every moment: reading all the newest research, bringing home her favorite treats, writing out a color-coded timeline of all the appointments and milestones. She wasn’t lying when she called him the best baby daddy. He was always there for her. So much so that the apprehension she’d had at the beginning of this surprise journey was nowhere to be found. 

As she drifted back into sleep, there he was again— she could almost hear the jangling of his keys in the bowl in the entryway, his feet on the stairs, the rustling of his pants and sweater being discarded onto the floor of their bedroom. 

And then she felt the warmth of his palm low over her tummy, coming to rest over the barely-there bump. She felt his lips on her shoulder and his chest pressed against her back. When she went to cover his hand with her own, her exhausted brain registered that it wasn’t a dream at all.

She turned her head, blinking her eyes open to see him smiling at her and drew her brows together. “What’s going on?”

He pressed another kiss to her shoulder, snuggling even closer and rubbing his thumb along her belly. “I’m, um— I told Emily I’m gonna consult from home on this one.”

…

“Okay, Mom, this’ll just be a little bit cold.”

Dr. Layton smoothed the gel over Y/N’s lower abdomen, and Spencer moved to thread their fingers together, shifting to stand even closer to the examination table. The ultrasound machine gave off a low hum as the doctor adjusted the wand over her tummy. She felt Spencer press a kiss to her temple and turned to smile brightly at him before turning back to the black and white screen. 

At her first appointment five weeks ago, she’d been by herself— alone and uncertain and terrified— and she’d declined the option of the ultrasound. It felt wrong to see the baby before Spencer even knew about them. Now, together with him, with her soon-to-be husband— she was more than ready to see their baby for the first time. And she could practically feel Spencer’s excitement next to her, his body nearly vibrating with it. 

“Ah, here they are. Hello, Baby Reid.” Dr. Layton pointed to a small, white figure on the screen. “Okay, right here, you can see their big ol’ head— perfectly normal size for this stage of development,” she assured, eyes deftly scanning the image in front of her. “Everything looks great! Now, I’m just trying to find…” 

She adjusted the wand over Y/N’s tummy, and suddenly a wub wub wub came over the tinny speaker of the machine. “There we are,” Dr. Layton smiled. “Very strong heartbeat.”

Spencer squeezed Y/N’s hand, and she felt the drop of a tear on her shoulder. She brought her other hand over to cover their tangled fingers, rubbing her thumb along the skin of his wrist and kissing his arm. 

Dr. Layton made a slightly perplexed humming sound, moving the wand again and losing the sound of the heartbeat, only to pick it up again— this time slightly faster. Y/N’s own heart stuttered a little as the doctor moved the wand again twice more, and then cleared her throat. “Is something— is everything okay?”

She turned to Y/N with a kind smile. “Yes, yes,” she confirmed, and then she raised her eyebrows. “Just— do you hear the difference?” 

Spencer tilted his head in consideration, drawing his brows together and straining to hear. The doctor shifted the wand once more, allowing them to hear the two distinct patterns. 

Two distinct patterns, Y/N realized. 

Dr. Layton pressed the wand a little more firmly into her abdomen, moved it just slightly. “Those are two different heartbeats.” She pointed to the screen. “And those are two different babies. There’s a matching set of Baby Reids in there.”

Y/N couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping. “Is there—” She turned to Spencer incredulously. “Do twins run in your family?”

He shook his head silently, eyes wide. “Yours?”

“Nope,” she squeaked. 

“This obviously changes things slightly,” Dr. Layton explained, cleaning up the residual gel. “I’d like to see you every three weeks rather than every four. Then at twenty eight weeks, we’ll see how we feel, okay?” 

She smiled gently as Y/N and Spencer nodded dumbly. She removed her gloves and stood. “I’m going to give you two a few minutes. I’ll be back with your photos in a bit, and we can talk about any questions you might have.”

The door closed behind her, and the room was bathed in silence. Y/N sat up carefully and swung her legs over the side of the examination table. She looked down at her tiny, unassuming bump and felt a tear slip over her lashes. 

“Are you— are you okay?” Spencer whispered. 

She brought her gaze to his, found them teeming with barely restrained joy and yet the ever-present worry. “Well,” she started. “I, um— I always imagined two kids.” She brought her hands up to her sweaty cheeks and held her own face between her palms. “I guess this is— you know— just a quicker way to get there.”

Spencer immediately wrapped her in a hug, pressing kisses over her hair, her forehead, her shocked mouth. “Two babies. We’re having two babies.”

“Twins, Spence,” she breathed. “Twins.”

He replaced her hands with his own, cradling her face and kissing her sweetly, sighing all of his joy and adoration into her mouth. “I love you. So much. The most.” He lowered himself to press his lips to her belly. “All of you.”

She used gentle hands in his hair to tilt his face up, meeting his smile with a watery one of her own. “We love you, too, baby daddy.”

She could see the gears turning as he stood, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “About that.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Do you, um— how difficult do you think it would be to get everyone together this weekend?”

She paused. “You wanna get married this weekend?”

“Yeah, that’s probably too soon, huh?” He huffed out a sigh, then his eyebrows shot up. “Oh, what about next weekend?”

“That’s just as soon!” she laughed. 

He furrowed his brow. “No, it’s not. There's a seven day difference.”

“You’re really in a rush, huh?” she teased. 

“Well. I just— I figure you should really be on my insurance anyway,” he reasoned. “Especially now that it’s— now that it’s twins.”

“Mm, yes, I’m sure that’s the reason,” she grinned.

He let out a long breath, and she watched his eyes journey over her face— memorizing every curve and angle, every new wrinkle, every last inch of her. And she knew the reason. 

“I know it’s just a piece of paper,” he murmured. “It doesn’t really change anything, but…” He used gentle fingers to brush her hair back from her face. “I just… really want to be your husband.”

She took her own minute to memorize the way he looked in this moment: her fiancé, the father of her children, the best man she’d ever known, the absolute love of her life. And she knew her own reason. 

“The paper might not change anything,” she agreed. “But— you’ve changed everything.”

He squeezed her hips. “In a good way I hope.”

“The best way.” She brought her hands to his face, rubbing her thumbs along his cheeks. “The best way.”

He closed the distance between them to kiss her with all the honey and magic and reverence he always did. He broke away to lean his forehead against hers with all the warmth and devotion and love he always did. She sighed, and it was all joy and vulnerability and contentment like it always was. And she knew their reasons. 

She kissed him again, and then murmured against his lips, “You know I’m still gonna refer to you as baby daddy, right?”

The laugh erupted from his chest and wrapped itself around her heart, tying tight and secure— a shield, and a haven, and a refuge— keeping her safe from every terrible thing. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

…

O no! Love is an ever-fixed mark 

That looks on tempests and is never shaken; 

It is the star to every wandering bark, 

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

- William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

———

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[beauvibaby]

there won’t be anyone else — t.seguin

a/n: obviously my timeline isn’t going to be accurate, and I know he went back to Canada for a large portion of his recovery but this is what worked… should I do a part 2???

Part two here!

summary: tyler asks his best friend to stay with him and his daughter during his recovery

word count: 5.2k

tagging people who interacted with my post: @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @mandypants95 @fallinallincurls @sidscrosbyy @myhockeyworld87 @lilyhood22 @joeyisourranger @je-ne-regrette-rien @youngbeezer @slimdebrusk

“Y/N?” Tyler spoke nervously, you tore your eyes off of the six month old in your arms, she gurgled in complaint as she grabbed at your face, “what’s up?” You asked him, shushing his daughter as she kept pinching your face. He smiled at the sight of you two, “I have to have a couple of surgeries, big surgeries, and I’m going to need a lot of help with Willow.” He explained, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “do you think you could come stay with us for a while?” He finally asked, you nodded instantly, you’d known Tyler ever since he came to Dallas. Long before he ended up as a single father to little Willow. “Of course, Ty.” You assured him, “anything you guys need.” You added, giving him a soft smile as Willow reached for her daddy. “Hi baby girl.” He grinned, smothering her in kisses, “glad you finally wanted to come back to me.” He teased her, holding her above his head as she giggled, the sight alone melted your heart as she grabbed at his beard the second it was in reach. “When is the surgery?” You asked him, you were fortunate enough to run an online shop, so really, as long as you could bring your supplies to his house, which you knew he’d have no problem with, you’d be set.

“Next week,” he paused, glancing over at you, “in New York.” He rushed his words together. “New York?” You gasped, eyes going a little wide. “You don’t have to come!” He stated, “my mom is going to meet me there, and then she’ll fly with me back here.” He explained, “I’ll be gone for a little over a week, then I can rehab here.” He added, realizing he didn’t explain anything very well. “Are you sure you don’t want us there?” You asked, motioning to Willow who was happily laying on his chest, gurgling away, probably close to taking a nap since she just ate. “I do, I really do, but it’s not worth the hassle, she’ll be happier here.” Tyler sighed, resting his chin on top of her head. “I’ll send you a bunch of pictures and videos of her, promise.” You laughed softly, thinking of how crazy this recovery is going to be for him. “You’re going to do great.” You assured him, seeing the wheels turning in his head, “I’m sure of it, and I’ll do anything I can to help.” You murmured, running a hand through your hair as all he could do was muster up a smile.

***

Day 1.

Tyler’s mom FaceTimed you that night, once he was coherent enough to remember seeing his daughter. “Hi, Mrs. Seguin.” You spoke softly, Willow looking around with wide eyes on your lap, you flipped the camera to show her, “Tyler.” His mom mumbled, handing the phone over, he looked exhausted but the way his eyes lit up when he saw Willow, she’d just had a bath so she was only in a diaper, showing off her chunky little legs. “Hey, Willow, hi baby.” He spoke, she focused in on the phone, rapidly swatting at it as she recognized his face. You giggled, moving her around to be sitting more on your chest, her face next to yours. “Say hi.” You cooed to her, waving her hand for her, she bounced excitedly as he smiled at her.

Day 2.

He was a little grumpy that day, but tried not to show it as he got to see Willow via FaceTime again, you knew he was already tired of being unable to move.

Day 3.

You were talking to him encouragely as he walked for the first time in three days, Willow sleeping in her room, Tyler’s mom held the phone out in front of her. You knew it had to be hard for her as well, to see her son like this, all because he was playing the sport he loved. You took some time to talk to her as the nurses helped Tyler get back in bed.

He didn’t feel up to talking again that day so you were sure to send him photos and videos of Willow, she was finally sitting up on her own without falling over.

The next week went on like that until he was finally coming home, luckily it was right during Willow’s long afternoon nap, so you could help him get settled and get everything in order before his mother had to leave to catch a flight tonight.

***

“Hey, Tyler.” You smiled, opening the car door, greeting him brightly, he tried to mimic your eyes excitement, but you could tell it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Hey.” He mumbled, letting out a soft groan as you helped him get out and onto his feet, he gave his mom a hard time about using the wheelchair, you could see the pain floating in her eyes, just overly worried that he would fall. “I’ve got him, Jackie.” You assured, walking directly beside him as he hobbled with his crutches, she nodded, grabbing the bags out of the car as you helped him get inside the house.

“Thank you.” He sighed, leaning into the couch cushion as you put a pillow under his leg. You just gave him a reassuring smile, his mom dropping the stuff by the entryway, “be easy on her, I know it’s hard for you, but imagine if you saw Willow like this.” You added in a whisper, understanding came across his face as he nodded, motioning for her to sit beside him, you let them have their moment as you grabbed his bags and brought them to the room he’d been staying in, on the first floor for now, until stairs weren’t a questionable decision.

You put the clothes in the laundry, and moved some stuff down to the guest room, humming softly as you did this stuff without question, just doing it to be helpful, not thinking of how much the small gesture would really mean to him.

After a while, you peeked in on Willow and she was still sleeping soundly with her arms above her head, you smiled, carefully shutting the door to the nursery and heading down the stairs with the monitor, Jackie had to get going if she was going to make it to the airport in time. So you both said your goodbyes, and you could tell it was hard for Tyler to let her leave like that, but what was he to do, she has a life to get on with as well.

“How has she been while I was gone?” Tyler asked, looking at Willow on the monitor, his heart clenching in his chest, wanting nothing more than to hold his baby girl again. “She was good, Ty.” You giggled, easing his nerves, he nodded, “thank you, so much, I know we just started the recovery process but you’ve already helped so much.” He explained, adjusting himself on the cushions, “you don’t have to keep thanking me, I’m happy to help, I love spending time with her, and you.” He smiled at your words, giving you the side eye as you turned away in embarrassment. You two had always been flirty, but once he came to you and said that was going to be a dad, he changed, he stopped going out, he spent his time at home, and it only made it easier for you to imagine a life with him. “We like spending time with you too.” He whispered, resting his hand on your knee right before Willow started to cry. You could tell he briefly forgot he couldn’t go get her as he went to sit up but then stopped himself. “Don’t worry, I’ll get her.” You hopped up, excited to see her when she finally got to see him for the first time in over a week, you took the stairs two at a time as you heard her crying get more intense.

As you picked her up, you completely forgot that Tyler had the monitor, and could hear and see you tending to her. “Oh my goodness.” You cooed, scooping her up, “your daddy is so excited to see you.” You grinned, kissing her chubby cheeks, making a brief face of disgust as you got a whiff of her diaper, “let’s get you cleaned up first.” You whispered, grabbing her a new outfit, this one having dealt with a small blowout. You quickly changed her and put her in her little jean shorts and a pink shirt, if it wasn’t for you, you were certain Tyler wouldn’t have anything girly for her to wear. He was watching the whole time as you took care of her like she was your own, his heart swelling in his chest, he’d always had a thing for you, but as he saw you with his baby, it only made him fall harder. And he became determined to make you his by the time he was back to playing.

He turned the monitor off and shimmied himself to be sitting up more properly as you came down the stairs, “who is that, Willow?” You gasped, pointing towards Tyler, she began to bounce in your arms. “It’s daddy.” You grinned at her, walking over to him and allowing him to take her. He breathed out in relief, “I missed you so much, baby girl.” He groaned, hugging her tightly, she pushed on him so she could lean back and look at him, she looked at him with a completely serious face before trying to bite his nose. He broke into a fit of laughter as he moved her away from his face, “that’s not nice princess.” He joked, tickling her sides, she giggled swinging her little legs as he lifted her up. “I swear she grew in a week.” He mumbled, sitting her on his good side, she sat on the couch, chewing on her hands and getting drool everywhere. “And she sits now.” He groaned, dramatically resting his head in the couch, she mimicked him and fell into the cushion. “Crazy girl.” You commented, taking the chance while she was distracted to tie up the top part of her hair, she definitely had his hair and all it did was fall in her eyes. Tyler smirked at you, you rolled your eyes at him, “now she looks like a real little princess.” You quipped to him, he faked a gasp, dramatically hoisting her into his chest. “How dare Y/N say that about my princess.”

It was a lot of extra work, and mess, but you brought her jar of food and bib to the couch so Tyler could feed her, knowing it was one of his favorite times with her as she was so smiley. “Have you ever tried this?” Tyler asked curiously as you sat beside him with her in your lap, she happily ate the spoonful of puréed apples, peas and beets. “Baby food?” You asked with a laugh, he nodded, pushing some more into her gummy smile, she gnawed on the spoon as he tried to take it away. “No, I haven’t.” You answered as you contained your laughter, “I tried it once, I figured it couldn’t be so bad, and it was even worse than bad.” He explained, carefully prying the spoon from her hands, she pouted at him, about to cry until he gave her the last bite and let her chew on the soft rubber spoon. “I’m sure it was.” You snickered, lightly wiping around her mouth, “when’s that first tooth gonna come in? Hmm.” He spoke to her, rubbing her little tummy as she burped, he smiled at her, the love he had for her was something only a father and daughter could share, and it was beautiful as you could see the concern on his face as she began to whimper. You let him take her as you went to get rid of the jar and spoon, coming back with her bottle.

“I just changed her, so she should be good for a while after this, is it alright if I go get some work done?” You asked him, he easily nodded as he laid her back on his chest, holding the bottle up to her lips as she eagerly started sucking on it. “Yeah, of course.” He spoke, not hearing you had already started walking away once he nodded, he smiled as you were tying your hair up sloppily while you walked, something you’d always done when you were getting focused on a project.

He turned on the golf channel, sinking into the couch with Willow as she fell asleep once her bottle was empty, he laid her down in the cushion beside him, boxing her in with a rolled up blanket and leaving his hand resting on her as he himself fell asleep.

***

Tyler had been home for a couple of weeks, physical therapy had been stepping up a lot, which meant he was incredibly sore by the time he got home, and incredibly stubborn. He figured, if he could do it just fine with a doctor walking beside him, there was no reason he couldn’t walk ten feet into the bathroom. Well, he quickly found out he was wrong as he stumbled from a pain in his hip and ended up on his knees, cursing as he couldn’t push himself up. You heard him fall, then the sounds of him cursing to himself and you shot up. “Tyler!” You called, rushing towards his room, he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment as you rounded the corner. “Hey, hey, are you ok?” You gasped kneeling beside him. He shook his head, slumping against the wall in defeat, “what’s wrong?” You asked, looking over him, trying to make sure he didn’t pull any stitches, or injure himself again. “I just can’t get up.” He muttered, slamming his fist on the wall. “I’m a fucking professional athlete and I can’t stand up on my own!” He snapped, he thought you’d move away at the tone of his voice, but you didn’t, you only moved closer, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. “I know, Ty. It’s going to be ok.” You whispered, his breathing was ragged as he finally gave in and hugged you back. He calmed down as you just stayed there, letting him hug you as tight as he needed, you pushed his curly mop of hair back once he completely calmed down. “You ready to get back up again?” You whispered, he nodded watching you stand up and give him your hands. “Just push with your good leg, alright.” You gently reminded him, stepping a little sideways to give your feet some traction. “One, two, three.” You pulled on his hands as he slid up, his back against the wall steadying him, he planted both feet on the ground, you quickly grabbed his crutches.

“I’ll just wait until you’re back in bed.” You mumbled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he nodded, hobbling to the bathroom right outside the room. Your adrenaline high quickly crashed as you waited for him, and you found yourself laying flat on the bed as you waited.

Tyler came back into the room, stopping in the doorway as he saw you stretched out on half of the bed. A smile came over his face as you shifted in your sleep, burying half your face in the pillow, inhaling softly as you felt at peace. He didn’t wake you, he couldn’t bring himself too, so he carefully got into the opposite side of the bed, the thumping in his chest so loud he was certain you could feel it as you subconsciously rolled towards him, resting your hand on his chest as he threw the blanket over you.

Eventually, morning came, and when you woke up in the empty bed, the events of last night came rushing back and you leaped out of bed, not only was Willow crying from her room, but you didn’t see Tyler anywhere, you instantly became worried he’d fallen again and you’d slept right through it. “Y/N?” Tyler called as you went rushing past the kitchen looking for him. “Tyler!” You gasped in relief, placing a hand over your chest as you saw him pouring a cup of coffee. “I thought you fell again, oh my god, where did you sleep? Oh, the baby, let me get the baby!” You rambled heading for the stairs, he chuckled as he listened to you stomp up them, Willow’s crying soon stopping as you picked her up.

He was feeling a little better today, so he managed to get Willow’s morning bottle ready, and some toast for himself, settling himself at the table as you came down the steps. Your hair was tangled in itself, you didn’t have makeup on, and you were in oversized sweats and a tank top, but you’d never looked better to him as you giggled with his daughter on your hip.

You called his name as you walked into the kitchen, spotting him at the table, he didn’t answer, but his eyes were pointed in your direction, “Tyler?” You called again, snapping your fingers. He blinked, “what? Sorry.” Tyler muttered sheepishly, “did you want eggs?” You asked him, eyeing him suspiciously as you maneuvered Willow in your arms to give her her bottle. She happily started drinking it as you propped it up on your cheek, pulling the eggs out of the fridge. “Give her to me.” Tyler chuckled, making grabby hands for her as you struggled to balance everything, you happily gave her over, glancing back as he cooed down to her, whispering a good morning as he kissed her messy head of his hair, they looked so like in that moment, Tyler with his hair sticking all over the place, and Willow with hers pushed to the side from you, with a clip barely holding it back.

“I’m not sure if you’re up to it, or if you want to, but I was going to go to the pumpkin patch later today, if you and Willow want to come?” You offered, “I know you hate having to use that wheelchair but it would be so fun to see her next to all those giant pumpkins.” You raddled on, giving Tyler the chance to admire you, “yeah, that sounds fun.” He answered, smiling when you turned to face him excitedly, “I’m sure you have some cute outfit for her planned out too.” He rolled his eyes jokingly, and you nodded eagerly, of course you did, how could you not, it is her first fall season after all.

“Here ya go.” You mumbled, sliding a plate in front of him, he furrowed his eyebrows, “I never answered about the eggs.” He didn’t argue though, as he picked up his fork and took a bite. “I know, but you’re doing a lot today, you need them.” You giggled, offering a small piece to Willow, now nearly eight months old. She happily mushed it with her couple of teeth, smiling brightly at Tyler, he nodded reassuring her that she was doing good.

Finally you were loading up into the car to go out for a while, Willow dressed in the cutest outfit she had, something you’d bought before she was even born. The belle sleeve onesie just barely still fit her chunky frame, and the red overall skirt over top just made her look even more adorable, and of course, a matching red bow in her hair. Tyler jokingly didn’t approve of how short her skirt was as he took her from you once you arrived, she sat perched on his lap as you pushed the wheelchair down the isles, thankful for the wood boards they had put down as paths in the dirt, Willow was making noises at everything she saw, reaching out to touch the pumpkins every once in a while. “Let me get a picture of you two.” You stopped his chair next to a huge pile of pumpkins, and he stood Willow up on his lap as she grinned at you, it was by far one of your favorite photos of them so far.

An older couple was walking by and smiled at you, “would you like me to take a photo for you?” She asked, and before you could even process her words, Tyler was answering with a yes please. You felt the blood rush to your face as you approached him, he handed Willow to you, and you were about to stand beside him but he gently pulled you to sit on his good leg, you didn’t have time to react, you only smiled for the camera just like he was. “Oh, how beautiful.” The older woman cheered, handing the phone back over to you. “Thanks.” You mumbled, Willow hiding her face in your neck, suddenly shy. You clicked on the picture, and you felt like your chest would explode, you looked like a family, but you weren’t. “Y/N?” Tyler called, you quickly shoved your phone in your pocket, “are you ready to go?” He asked, taking the baby back from you, confusion laced in his tone as he saw the look on your face. “Yeah, Uh, yeah let’s go.” You mumbled, pushing the chair towards the exit, he held in a sigh, trying to figure out what had caused your sudden mood change.

***

“It’s Christmas!” You heard Tyler cheer as he got Willow out of her crib, the nine month old clapping her hands out of his excitement. Tyler was on the upside now, his second surgery complete, and now rehabbing both, he was able to walk without his crutches, he had to go slow on the stairs, but the doctor encouraged him to keep working on them. In a few weeks he’s going to be skating for the first time in months, and you were terrified, meanwhile he was ecstatic, ready to feel like his normal self again. You smiled, keeping your eyes shut as your door opened, “it’s Christmas!” Tyler shouted, putting Willow on the bed and letting her crawl up to your head, mushing on your cheeks, you gasped lifting her up quickly, sending her into a fit of giggles in her reindeer pajamas. “Christmas? Your first one!” You spoke to her, Tyler smiled, sitting beside you. “Merry Christmas.” He whispered, handing you an envelope, he laughed as you put Willow down and quickly pushed yourself to be sitting against the headboard beside him. She made her little baby babble as she played with the bunched up blanket. “You didn’t have to get me anything.” You spoke softly, opening the envelope, revealing a gorgeous Christmas card. “Oh shush, just read it.” You could hear the nerves in his tone, you shot him a smile before letting your eyes run over the extensive writing he’d done.

“Y/N, you have been a godsend in mine and Willow’s life, there isn’t anyone else I would’ve trusted to leave her with during all of this, there isn’t anyone else I’d want to be helping me off the floor at three am. What I’m trying to get at is,

There isn’t anyone else. I don’t think there will be anyone else.

So, if you’d kindly accept my gift, dinner, without Willow, a date, that’s what I’d like to call it.

Love, Tyler.”

“What’s the matter, Seguin? Too afraid to ask me in person?” You quipped, he opened and closed his mouth searching for the right words to say, “is that a yes?” He finally asked, a hopeful look dancing in his eyes. “Of course it’s a yes. I’ve only been waiting months for you to ask.” You giggled, catching him off guard by pecking his lips, it isn’t like you two hadn’t shared kisses before, but it was normally in a drunken state. “Uh-huh.” He hummed pulling you back in for a proper kiss, Willow shrieked, startling you both. She was looking at you angrily, before snuggling up to her dad, as if saying you weren’t allowed near him. “Good job, princess, gotta protect daddy from mean ol’ Y/N.” He murmured to her, earning a glare from you, but as he broke into laughter, you couldn’t even keep up your charades. “Come on, it’s Christmas, she’s got presents to open.” You mumbled, kissing her chubby cheek, “presents!” He cheered, holding her up highly, she giggled as he lunged her back down.

The date had gone as good as you could’ve hoped,

not exactly how he’d planned, but still a great night, the sitter had cancelled, and the restaurant he wanted to take you too didn’t offer a pick up option, so you ended up eating pizza on the living room floor, watching Disney movies, per your request, and talking about everything and anything. And of course, there were lots of stolen kisses.

***

“It’s alright to be a little scared you know.” You reminded your now boyfriend, he was about to go on the ice for the first time in months, and the anxiety just hit him, what if’s repeating themselves in his head. Willow was fast asleep in the stroller, tired from her own activities this morning. “But–“ “No but, you’ve got this babe, you’ve been warming up to this for months, hell, you probably skate better than you walk.” You cut him off, giving him a short pep talk, you squealed in delight when he pulled you in for a quick kiss. You pulled away with a smile, “now, go show that ice whose boss.” You giggled, pecking him once more before patting his shoulder, you weren’t allowed to watch him rinkside, no distractions allowed, so you took Willow for a short walk, all the while she slept. You kept yourself busy, getting caught up with things on your phone as you waited for Tyler to call and say he was done.

Finally as you went back to get him, Willow was awake but grumpy, and hungry, so you kind of just rushed in with her on your hip. Also remembering you had some stuff to do for work today that was time sensitive, “how’d it go?” You asked as you bounced her in an attempt to get her to calm down. Tyler slung his bag over his shoulder, “it was great, rusty, but it felt good.” He explained shortly, sending your urgency, “I’ll put her in the car.” He offered, taking her from you, and instantly she calmed down, only making you feel worse. You knew it was common for her to go through phases, hell, she’d done this with Tyler where she wanted nothing to do with him for almost a whole month, you didn’t realize how bad it would hurt. He shot you an apologetic smile, “hey, just take a deep breath. You’re gonna get everything done on time.” He assured you.

***

New Years had come and gone, and Willow’s first birthday was quickly approaching, as were her first steps. Tyler was sad that they were going to be happening so soon, but at the same time he was beyond excited for her to be running around in no time.

She quickly grew out of the phase of only wanting Tyler, which both of you were grateful for, as he could see it eating away at you.

“Come on, come to dada.” You heard Tyler, you peeked your head around the wall, seeing him sitting on the floor arms reach away from Willow, she looked at him quizzically, reaching her arms out, she wobbled but didn’t fall. “Come on baby.” He encouraged her, she took one step, two, three, and he just kept sliding back until she couldn’t go any further. “Oh my god!” You and Tyler shouted at the same time, “shit,” he jumped now knowing you were behind him. “Hi.” You laughed, sitting beside him, “I think you officially have a walker on your hands.” You told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He furrowed his brows for a moment, he looked as if he was going to say something, but then decided against it. “Yeah I do.” He chuckled in agreement, setting her back on her feet and grinning as she did it again, and again, and again until she was too tired to do anymore and just plopped herself on your lap.

“Hi baby.” You mumbled, kissing her forehead, she sighed, nuzzling into your neck, instantly falling asleep. “She loves you.” Tyler mumbled, tucking your loose hair behind your hair, you bit your lip as you looked over at him. “I love you.” He breathed out, relief hitting him when you broke into a huge smile, “I love you, Ty.” You mumbled, he kissed you as good as he could with Willow curled up on your lap. “Let’s go put her to bed, yeah.” He laughed, taking her from you and disappearing to her room in record speed.

***

Tyler had his first morning skate today, finally getting back into a routine with the team, he was anxious as it was on a Saturday, thankfully no game today, but it was Willow’s birthday party. Of course, all planned by you, Tyler clueless on what to do for a one year old, all he knew is it had to be puppy themed, because those were her absolute favorite things.

“Woah.” Tyler stopped in his tracks, seeing the decorations you’d spread out around the house, his dogs happily laying with party hats on their heads. “Baby, this is awesome.” He chuckled as you came around the corner to greet him, “I know it is.” You laughed, welcoming the hug he offered you. “Thanks for doing all this for her.” He mumbled against your head, “of course.”

***

“Dada, dada, dada!” Willow shrieked running towards him, “Willow?” He gasped, his first game back resulting in a loss, but he scored and you couldn’t lie, it made you emotional. And he was all the clueless to you two being here, “surprise!” You grinned as he scooped her up, “you came?” He mumbled in shock, kissing his daughter before pulling you in with his other arm, “of course we came.” You whispered against his lips, smiling as he finally kissed you, “you did so amazing, babe, I’m so proud of you.” You cupped his jaw with one hand, “thank you.” Is all he could get out before Willow started to speak. She reached for you, “mama.” Your breathing hitched, and Tyler’s smile had grown. You looked to him, afraid to over step, “yes baby, that’s mama.” He assured her, “Tyler.” You cautioned, taking her as she kept reaching for you.

“Y/N, she’s just as much yours as she is mine, you’ve been here since she came home, you’ve taken care of her like a mother, and I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon. So yes. You’re her mom.” His words brought tears to your eyes, he smiled softly wiping away the tears, kissing your forehead as Willow watched curiously, she kissed your cheek with a smile, having learned early on to be affectionate to people she liked. “Thank you baby,” you cooed to her, resting your head on top of hers. “Mama?” She hummed, smiling against you. “Yeah.” You agreed. “I love you.” Tyler sighed, snapping a picture of his girls, he said the words right before he snapped the picture, getting the most genuine smile from you. “I love you.”

taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @calgarycanuck

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Gorgeous

Summary: You’d spent the last year and a half pretending to hate Ransom Drysdale. One Christmas trip could break that facade.

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size!Black!Reader (though it’s pretty inclusive. It’s just what I had in my head when I wrote it)

Warnings: And there was only one bed, enemies to lovers, fluff, smut, swearing, secret crush, daddy kink

Words: 7K

(A/N: Yes. I pretty much wrote a Hallmark movie. Yes it is also based on Gorgeous by Taylor Swift because I���d also hate Ransom Drysdale for making me fall in love with his stupidly handsome face. No I will not be taking questions.)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @queenoftheworldisdead @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @mariahthelioness29 @donutloverxo @navybrat817​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @hqneyyincc​ @iam-laiya​ @zaddychris​ @emjayewrites​

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Contrary to popular belief, you didn’t hate Ransom. Sure, his smug smile made you want to punch him in the face sometimes. But you kind of liked the vein that popped out on the side of his head when you did something to irritate him. Or the way he rolled his eyes at you when you did something to annoy him. And you annoyed him a lot. It was like you couldn’t help yourself.

To be honest you kind of like those things too much. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud. Imagine everyone finding out that you had some little primary school like crush on this asshole. Down to the point where you’d push him into sand to prove that you didn’t like him in the slightest.

Since your best friend was marrying his best friend, you were spending way too much time with him. You thought you’d done a good job at convincing Monica, your best friend, that you absolutely couldn’t stand him. She seemed to buy it since every eye roll was appropriately placed anytime you thought you might laugh at one of his rude jokes.

So, when your best friend asked you to accompany her and her fiancé to visit his family, you were positive. It might be nice seeing how these super rich people did the holidays. You’d met them a few times and they’d been super nice. Nothing like how Ransom or your own boyfriend’s family came off as stuck up as hell. Also, you were kind of dying to see the decor.

Until that day came. “I’m sorry!” Ava said for the millionth time since she’d told you the news when she’d FaceTimed you. That not only was Ransom coming, you’d have to ride with him in his Beemer because she’d packed more than she’d expected and there’d be no more room in Simon’s car.

You groaned softly, wrinkling up your nose. Your cats rubbing themselves against you because they knew you were leaving and loved to get all needy when you did that. You were already having a hard morning so this was kind of the last thing that you needed. “Maybe I shouldn’t go,” you suggested, even though you were supposed to be leaving in about five minutes.

She pouted. “But I need you there so I won’t be bored.”

“You know David,” your own boyfriend who was not going with you because he had to work and also because you weren’t sure he’d be your boyfriend by the time you came home, “hates Ransom.” It still made for a good excuse, though.

“What he won’t know, won’t kill him?” She shrugged. “Look it won’t even be that bad! It’s just the car ride.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, for four hours.”

“Just do this for me,” she whined. “Please. I’d do it for you.”

“Fine, but next time my boss has one of those boring dinners at his house, I’m making you go with me.”

She gasped. “Deal!”

There was a honk outside and it was safe to say who it was. You rolled your eyes. “You’re so lucky I love you because I’m already annoyed.” You peeked outside the window to see him aggressively honking.

Fucking asshole.

Once you’d hung up with Ava, you grabbed your bags so you could hurry out of the house. Luckily David was already at work so you didn’t have to explain to him why you were getting in the car with him. Ransom seemed to like getting under his skin, which you’d noticed is what he did to most people. Including you, but it seemed to be for a different reason than most people had.

“Hey,” you greeted him, as you struggled to carry your stuff to the trunk. Even though you were trying to keep this facade up, you didn’t want to be rude.

“Can you hurry? We’re on a strict timeline, Buttercup.”

You hated when he called you that. “First, don’t call me that. Second, maybe I’d finish sooner if you’d help.”

There was this smirk on his lips as he finally opened up his car door so he could take one of the bags out of your hands and then the others. “Did you pack your entire closet?” He asked as he tried to make it all fit in the trunk.

“I have a lot of needs,” you retorted.

“That’s probably why you need that sugar daddy, huh,” he said. This is why David didn’t like him. Okay yeah maybe you’re twenty-six with a forty-seven-year-old boyfriend. Sure, he brought you nice things, but what was wrong with that.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you made a point to emphasize. You weren’t going to tell Ransom Drysdale that you were with your boyfriend because he was your daddy dom. That’d be fucking stupid.

“Look, sugar daddy boyfriend whatever,” he said, dismissing you. “I just think you should pack lighter.”

“Whatever. Aren’t we on a tight schedule or something?” You rolled your eyes before going over to the passenger seat.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He stopped you to open the door himself. “I don’t need you to scratch my shit. You have to handle with care.”

You tried not to laugh which made you bite your bottom lip instead making you taste the mint chapstick you’d just put on. “You’re such a control freak,” you said, having to brush passed him so you could sit.

He didn’t say anything as he closed it gently.

The ride had been pretty boring so far. You yawned a few times. Wiggled in your seat trying to get comfortable. He surprisingly pulled over to get you coffee and even got you your blanket so you could curl up at some point.

If you weren’t trying to hate him, you may have swooned. He also said it’s because he didn’t feel like hearing you complain so maybe less swooning anyway. You reached for the radio and he smacked your hand away. “Ow!” You gasped.

“I’m just fucking with you.” He laughed, glancing over as you glared at him.

“Dick,” you mumbled under your breath as you reached forward again to change the station.

“What was that?” He asked.

“I said you’re a dick,” you repeated, sitting down as a song you liked started playing.

He groaned. “I hate this song.”

“Too bad,” you snickered.

“Need I remind you that this is my car, Buttercup?”

You narrowed your eyes at him because he called you that damn nickname. “Whatever. At least it wasn’t that Dad stuff you listen to.”

“Should you really be the one making fun of Dads?” He laughed.

“Hey! David doesn’t even want kids.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You don’t?” He asked looking genuinely surprised at that.

“I mean... maybe. I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Do you?”

“Well, I hate kids, but maybe for the right women. Who knows?” He once again took a quick glance at you, with this small dorky smile on his face.

That was surprising. You felt yourself starting to get to where your heart was swelling in your chest. “Why are we talking about this, you weirdo.”

He chuckled as you cross your arms in front of your chest as you looked out the window.

For the rest of the car ride only the music filled the silence. You wanted to say something. Thought about at least trying. Every time you started to open your mouth no sound came out.

You’d look at him while he focused on the road. Just because you couldn’t like him didn’t mean you couldn’t look at him, right? Though it was bothering you that there was a hole in his cashmere sweater.

“I’ll open your door,” he said getting out. You waited for him to open your side, but you heard the trunk pop open. You turned around watching him take out your four bags along with his. How the fuck was he so strong.

He opened up your car door finally. “Do you want me to take some?” You asked him with a frown as he closed the door with his elbow.

“It’s okay,” he replied already walking off. You scurried behind him trying to catch up.

Ava and Simon were right behind you. Ave got out and went to hug you. “See I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” she said. “Wait why is Random holding all your stuff?”

You shrugged. “He insisted.”

“Weird,” she replied.

Simon’s family was pretty nice, but they were so busy doting on the happy couple you were kind of ignored. It was actually kind of nice because when you met David’s family, they pretty much scrutinized everything you did. His mother was honestly the bane of your existence. Like, lady, if your son hadn’t had a kid by now how was that your fault.

That was another thing that made you treat Ransom the way you did. You’d met Linda a few times now and she already hated you. You could only imagine how she was towards his girlfriends. You’d only seen the tip of the iceberg of the insanity of the Thrombeys, though Harlan had been nice every time you’d met him.

“Okay, so, it turns out that one of Simon’s cousins decided to come at last minute and uh,” Ava took a deep breath, “you two have to share a room okay, bye!” She tried to grab Simon’s hand, but you managed to catch her first.

“What,” you said a little too loudly so you lower your voice, “the hell, Ava.”

“You’re shitting me,” Ransom groaned.

“It won’t be so bad just think of it as a sleepover. Maybe he can paint your nails and you two can do face masks together,” she started rambling off.

You weren’t as amused. “Or maybe me and you could share.”

“Hell no! I’ve slept in a bed with you. You’re a cuddler.” She frowned. “Besides I wanna sleep with my boo.”

“You’re the worst best friend ever,” you told her. “Fine, but he’s sleeping on the floor.”

“Like hell I am,” Ransom said.

“I have a boyfriend!” You reminded them. “I can’t sleep in a bed with another guy. Especially Ransom.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We’ve been over this, Buttercup. You don’t have a boyfriend; you have a sugar daddy.”

You huffed. “Alright that’s it I’m calling an Uber.”

“And paying a hundred bucks to get home?” Ava rolled her eyes. “Come on just tough it out.”

“I hope you know that I hate you now,” you told her.

“Good. We’ll work it out in couple’s therapy.”

—————

The first night was awful. It felt like you couldn’t sleep. While Ransom seemed to sleep like a baby on the other side of the wall of pillows, you’d built between the two of you.

Even when you’d tried to move away from him, he’d just hold you in place. At some point you just had to accept your fate. At least you were cozy. So, you just kind of let it happen because who knows if this could again. When you actually woke up, he was already gone. You were neatly tucked under the comforter.

As you were finishing up your face routine and making yourself look presentable, Ransom was coming back in. You’d never seen him with sweats on before because he was usually such a preppy asshole, but he looked good. “Morning.”

“Morning,” you mumbled.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why? You didn’t do something did you?”

“Me? Never?” He smirked before walking passed you and into the bathroom.

You walked through the house, taking in the way everything was beautifully decorated for the holiday. Honestly this place was house porn. “Good morning!” Simon’s mom, Trish, greeted you as you walked into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” you replied with a grin.

“Did you sleep okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah, it was perfect,” you answered.

“Breakfast will be ready soon so why don’t you go wake up Simon and Ava.”

You nodded. “Yeah of course.” God they were too nice. Maybe you need to be around rich people more often.

Oh wait, no. David’s family came from money and they were awful. Also see Ransom.

Simon had come to answer the door, freshly showered. Ava was just coming out of the bathroom. “Morning,” he said.

“Morning. Your mom said breakfast is going to be ready.”

He nodded. “Okay. Babe, you ready?”

“You go ahead,” she told him. “Y/N, c’mere.”

You and Simon exchanged looks and he shrugged. “Guess I’ll get Ransom.”

Ava waited until he was completely out of the room before motioning for you to close the door. “So,” this shit eating grin appeared on her face, “how was it?”

“How was what?”

“Sleeping with Ransom.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “How was it?”

You shrugged. “We put a pillow wall up.” You really didn’t want to mention the cuddling.

“What? That’s it?” She groaned. “I always thought he’d be a bed hog.”

“I stayed on my side, he stayed on his.”

“That’s boring. I at least thought you’d have something to talk shit about.” She sighed. As far as you knew her and Ransom got along. She just found it super entertaining how you bitched about him.

The two of you went to sit in the dining room, waiting for everyone else. Trish sat down not to long after bringing the two of you mimosas. “Oh my gosh thank you!” Ava said getting up to hug her mother-in-law.

“Of course, Sweetheart.” She grinned. “So, Y/N, how long have you and Ransom been together?” She winked, bringing her champagne flute to her mouth. “I always said that Ransom just needs to find a sweet girl to settle down with. Maybe melt down that cold exterior he puts up. You know he really is a sweet boy.”

It was a good thing you hadn’t even been able to take a sip because you probably would have choked on it. “Her and Ransom aren’t together,” Ava answered before you could.

Her jaw dropped. “Oh, I just thought because you were fine sharing a room.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay.”

Ransom took a seat beside you while Simon sat on the other side of Ava. Trish looked between the two of you because this table was huge and Ransom could have sat anywhere else. He could have sat on the other side of Simon if he’d wanted to.

Breakfast went by pretty uneventfully, though the pancakes the housekeeper made were kind of to die for. “So, what are you kids planning for today?” Simon’s dad, Warren, asked as plates started being cleared away.

“Well, Ava’s never been ice skating,” Simon said.

“That’ll be fun,” Trish said. To be honest you were kind of nervous about ice skating. You’d done it before, but ate shit hard. “Is this your first time, too?” She asked you.

“No,” you replied. “I’m not very good at it, though.”

“I’m sure Ransom can help you,” she said with a grin.

Ransom groaned softly beside you. “Yeah of course.”

  As soon as you got on the ice you could feel yourself going down. Ransom grabbed onto you to hold you up. “Don’t eat shit on me already,” he said with a smirk on his face.

“If I go down, I’m taking you with me,” you snap back at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s just get this over with.”

It was a good thing you’d bought these leggings that were fluffy on the inside and this jacket you were wearing was cozy because it was freezing out here. Ransom had to

At some point you kind of started to think that you had the hang of it. Like maybe you could actually do it. He started to slowly let go of you, but the minute you started to feel unsteady he’d grab your hand. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said sighing softy. He stood for a minute holding your hand so he could skate with you to the middle of the rink. “Hey can we talk about something. Really quick?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“Hey, so,” he looked down at you with this almost nervous look on his face. “There’s been something I wanted to say, but I wasn’t really sure how to before.”

You nodded. “Yeah, what’s up.”

“Um,” he sighed. “Well, okay, so I-“ well he didn’t get to finish as this asshole barreled into you. “Y/N!”

You hit the ice pretty hard almost bouncing up as you came back down. “What the hell!”

Ransom immediately helped you up. “Watch where you’re fucking going!” He yelled back after the guy who’d already started skating away without even saying sorry. “Are you okay?

“My leg like hurts really bad,” you felt yourself tear up because you’re a little baby.

He sighed. “Shit, okay,” he said. “Are you okay to stand?”

“Oh my gosh!” Ava came over to the two of you. “Are you okay? I told Simon to go tell security. That guys been such an asshole this whole time.”

“Yeah thanks,” you said.

“Here why don’t we got some hot chocolate,” Ransom said.

It felt so nice being back in your boots. Ransom had you sit before going to get the drinks. You couldn’t help yourself as you rubbed over the spot on your leg that had been hurting super bad. Wincing at the tenderness.

“How’s your leg?” Ransom asked, sitting beside you with the steaming beverages in hand.

You brought your cup up to your mouth loving the warmth against your cold nose. “It’s fine,” you answered.

He reached down to touch the spot making you jump. He laughed. “Wow usually I have to get a girl naked before they start reacting like that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to play off as annoyed, but it didn’t work since you couldn’t help yourself as a smile spread on your face. “Oh, shut up.” You blew at the steam before taking a sip. “So, what did you wanna talk to me about?”

“It’s.... it’s nothing,” he said picking at some lint on his coat, suddenly getting all quiet. He took a sip of his own drink.

Here’s where you made a mistake. Which is the mistake that got you into this in the first place. Because every time you looked into his eyes, seeing those long lashes framing those deep blue eyes made you feel like you might drown in them.

And you fucking looked into them. After that first time you told yourself to never do that again. That it’s what made you trick yourself into thinking that you liked him the first time. No. He was just so close.

You pretty much fought yourself on this for the rest of the day. Even during the little shopping trip that the two of you dragged the boys to when you’d been debating with yourself if you wanted to buy this gorgeous coat or this really dress. Not that you needed more of either.

“Here just get both,” Ransom grumbled, taking out his card.

“What!” You gasped. “No, I can’t ask you to do that!”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. Just wear it for the Christmas party.”

“But I already have a dress,” you said.

“Look, I’m sure your sugar daddy buys you very nice things at Forever 21, but I insist.”

You rolled your eyes as he quickly handed the worker his card. “Hey!”

“Too late,” he replied with a shrug that smug smile on his face.

You looked down at the glass as your things were being wrapped up nice and neat. The gold necklace had a diamond moon pendent. It looked so delicate and would have gone so good with that dress.

“You like it?” He asked, noticing.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” you said. “But this is already too much.”

“C‘mon, we have to get back for dinner,” Ava said as Ransom grabbed the shopping bags.

—————

At some point every night the pillows would end up on the floor and you’d end up nestled into the crook of his neck. He’d have his arms around you until you’d roll over onto your side where he’d wrap himself around you again. Then you’d wake up to him gone because he went on his runs at the ass crack of dawn. You noticed how you’d be snuggly tucked into bed each time.

A part of you wanted to feel bad. That you were away and cuddling with another man every night. It was hard to feel guilty when you weren’t sure if your boyfriend was taking advantage of you being gone not that he knew that you knew. He was probably in some club, too, doing you don’t even want to know what. You knew when you left that you may be going home to end things.

You were trying not to think about it. Hell, you hadn’t even told Ava. You wanted everyone to have a good holiday and not worry. Besides you wanted to have fun. Which is why the four of you were going to some club tonight.

The four of you had went to dinner at this really nice restaurant. There were a few times when you’d caught Ransom looking at you all weird. “What?” You wrinkled your nose.

He cleared his throat before going back to picking at the salmon on his plate. “Nothing.”

As the drinks finally started flowing, you started to get a little loose. Ransom was sitting beside you being all sulky as he sipped from the glass of whiskey on ice.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him. Okay to be honest maybe you were more than a little loose, but you were just trying to have some fun.

“Nothing.” He glanced over at you then back to his drink.

“Hey,” this girl sat on the other side of him. “My friend was wondering if you wanted to dance.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why couldn’t your friend ask me herself?”

“She’s a little shy, but she’s cute.”

Ransom glanced over at you. “Nah. I’m just sitting here with my friend.”

The girl pouted, but finally left. You snickered. “I’m just sitting here with my friend,” you mimicked. “What too cool to dance?”

“Because I don’t know. I didn’t feel like it.” He shrugged then took another sip of his drink. “Do you wanna dance maybe?” He finally looked over at you and you were almost hypnotized, but managed to keep your composure.

“With you?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, Buttercup, with my grandpa.”

You laughed once again ignoring the nickname. Maybe it was kind of growing on you. It only took a year and a half. You stood up. “Fine, but you better not stomp on my feet.”

“I might on purpose.” He got up standing in front of you. For a minute you thought he might kiss you until he grabbed your hand to pull you onto the dance floor.

You didn’t want to admit this either, but you were having fun hanging out with Ransom. Ava and Simon were understandably in their own little bubble of love and you didn’t want to interrupt.

After the club Simon had the bright idea of going in the hot tub to warm up. Since you were all a little tipsy that sounded like a great idea.

You had to wear your long sweater out of the house since it was freezing. You in your own little space while Ransom seemed to scoot way to close to you. The four of you were just talking mostly. Enjoying the hot water after being in the freezing cold.

All of you were talking when Ava gave Simon a kiss, which got deeper to the point where they were showing you way more than you needed to see. “I think I speak for both of us in that we really do not want to witness the two of you procreating,” Ransom said.

Ava made a face at him while Simon laughed. He whispered in her ear where she pecked his lips again. The both of them started getting out right after. “We’ll see you two in the morning.” He grinned.

“Goodnight!” She said.

“Night,” you and Ransom said in unison.

You went to the side that your incredibly horny friends had been on which had been across from him. His eyes were closed with his head tilted back. You splashed water at him making him jump a little.

“Hey!” He splashed you back. You laughed as you did it a second time. “Alright, alright,” he said.

You did it again for good measure. “Can’t have someone seeing you have too much fun.”

He went back to his previous position this time putting his muscular arms on the ledge. You wouldn’t care to admit how long you stared at his biceps and shoulders. Then taking the quickest glance at his abs. Then that neck that you kind of wanted to put your mouth on. This is bullshit.

Why was he allowed to be this hot? It couldn’t be enough that he was an asshole. He had to be hot about it. Okay you looked at his pecs and tried to see if you could get a glance of what may have been in his swim trunk. Whatever.

“What are you doing?” He caught you, a smirk appearing on his annoyingly perfect face.

“It’s called minding my own business,” you replied. “You should try it.”

He laughed. “You’re such a brat.” You shrugged turning your head to look at nothing. “Is that what your sugar daddy sees in you?”

“He’s not my sugar daddy. I mean he buys me things like for my birthday, but... that’s not what our relationship is about. I don’t even know if we are in a relationship anymore.” You don’t know why you were spilling all of this to Ransom of all people.

Ransom frowned. “What happened?”

You looked down and sighed blowing out your cheeks after. “Well...” you sighed again. Your stomach was turning now. “You have to take it to your grave.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

You sighed, biting your lip weighing in your options. On one hand it wasn’t Ransom’s business. You really hadn’t told Ava this. You didn’t want her to worry.

“So, he’s not my sugar daddy,” you said, hoping he got the hint.

You could tell he did by the grin on his face and the way he raised his eyebrows. “You?” He explained. “No there’s no way and here I always thought you’d be boring in bed.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up no you didn’t.”

“I took you for a dead fish kind of girl,” he teased. “It’s always the cute ones.”

Your eyes widened at what he said. Then so did his when he realized what he said. “Anyway, so yeah that’s how we started off as,” you decided to ignore what he’d just said.

“Alright so go on.”

“Yeah, so it turns out I’m not the only one,” you said. “He’s been going to these clubs and he doesn’t think that I know.”

His jaw dropped. “This is the plot twist I really wasn’t expecting. I gotta tell ya.”

You shook your head. “Shut up.” You splashed him again.

“Stop!” He laughed, doing it back to you.

As you kept splashing at him, he came over to you, grabbing your hands to keep you from doing it again. “Let go of me.” You laughed.

“No.” He wasn’t laughing anymore. Just looking at you. Fuck he was putting you under his spell. You were supposed to not looking into his eyes. How did you make this mistake so many times? “Y/N, I... don’t make things weird.”

“What?” You laughed.

“Yeah. Don’t make this weird,” he said again softly before brushing his lips against yours finally.

“And here I’d always heard that you were a ladies man, Ransom,” you teased. “That was kind of weak.”

“Yeah, well maybe you bring out the worst in me.” A dopey smile had spread across his face. It was okay because there was one on yours too.

“Oh whatever.” You rolled your eyes still smiling. He leaned over to kiss you again but you put your hand against his lips to stop him. “I’m getting kind of tired actually.”

You walked back to your room. All wrapped in your sweater because fuck it was freezing now. You also wouldn’t say this out loud, but his lips felt really nice. As you made it to the bedroom the two of you were sharing, he came on not too far after, grabbing your arm to pull you into a kiss. He’s so dramatic.

As his lips worked against yours, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He felt so good. You can’t remember the last time David kissed you like this. “Fuck it’s actually really cold,” Ransom said.

You laughed. “I know I’m freezing.”

“How about we take a shower,” he said. “Maybe we could save some water together?”

“Oh yeah. We would totally be helping the environment.”

He grabbed you hand to lead you the rest of the way. You pulled off your wet clothes. As soon as you felt time hot water on your skin, you moaned. “

Jesus Christ, why not shower in hell,” he hissed.

“I’m already there.” You threw your arms around his neck. He leaned down to kiss you again. Pawing at your ass. He was so close this time.

You tried to act like nothing had happened as you finished getting ready for bed. As you got all settled under the covers, you felt your body finally start to warm up. He slid in next to you. This was the first time that you didn’t even attempt to put the wall of pillows up.

He pulled you all close to him. “You little shit! Are you naked?” You gasped.

He laughed. “Yeah. I don’t even know why you bothered.”

“Who said I was going to do anything with you?”

“Well, what if I tell you that,” he said, grabbing a handful of your ass, “I actually maybe sort of have feelings for you.”

Ah fuck.

Well, obviously.

But, ah fuck.

Why were you supposed to hate him again?

Because he was a giant asshole. He was rude to the help. Rude to everyone. Even you. Yet you still liked his stupid smug smile. That annoying laugh. You liked how he’d been surprisingly good company for this whole trip. Liked how he was holding you right now. You were pretty sure he could get an ugly haircut and you’d still like him. How he looked at you even when he was irritated with you.

Waiting for you to say something back.

“I... I have feelings for you, too.” You bit your lip after like you were nervous about what he might say back.

“Yeah?” He said with another dopey smile covering his face.

You nodded right before he bridged the gap first. Pressing your lips to his. His mouth moving ever so softly against yours. Like he was afraid you’d run away if he moved to quickly.

You deepened it and he finally pushed you down on your back. Ransom grabbed the back of your leg so you’d wrap it around his waist. Fuck he was already growing against you. “I still can’t believe you got dressed,” he pulled away to whisper in your ear. “You should have known I was just going to take everything off.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ever think that’s part of the fun.”

He chuckled before kissing you again. “Oh yeah?” He pulled away so he could start pulling down your sleep shorts. “You wanted me to take your clothes off?” You nodded, looking into his eyes. He hissed. “Didn’t even put-on panties, dirty girl.”

You laughed. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, I really, really like it.” He reached down to rub his hand up and down your slit. “What a pretty little pussy.”

You gasped. “Fuck.” His hands felt so good on you. He’d barely even touched you and it felt so, so good. Finally, his finger grazed your clit. He traced along it in a circle. “Stop teasing me!” You whined.

“Be patient, Buttercup.” He smirked.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Shit,” he stopped, “I don’t have a condom.”

You shrugged. “I’m on birth control.”

He smirked. “Yeah, you want me to fuck you raw, Baby. Want me to cum in you?” He leaned back down to kiss your neck this time. His thumb was pressing into your clit now. Going on sweet, sweet circles. He stopped for a minute to pull off your top.

When you were fully naked and he finally put his mouth on your nipples, you needed him to just fuck you. “Please, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He went back to kissing your neck. “Yeah? You want me to be your daddy? Want me to take care of you.”

“God, yes.”

He lined himself up at your entrance. Looking into your eyes as he started to push into you. You closed your eyes tightly. “No, no open your eyes. I want you to look at me while I fuck you,” he commanded.

You nodded doing as you were told as he made you stretch over the thick head of his cock. You were so fucking wet just from him touching you like that. Your skin felt like it was on fire. You cried out as he inched into you. Fuck he was bigger than you’d expected. He was making you feel so full.

“Ransom,” you whimpered, he started out with shallow thrusts not going all the way in.

“Fuck, you’re fucking tight,” he groaned. “Can you even take it?”

You nodded. “I can take it, Daddy.”

He steadied his hips before finally shoving himself all the way inside of you. You gasped as he started fucking into you going so deep. Little droplets of tears formed in the corners of your eyes.

He was fucking you so good, your brain went blank. All you wanted was him. Wanted him to never stop fucking you. “Oh my god,” you whined.

“Yeah. Feels good?”

You nodded as you tried to take it. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Daddy making you feel good?” He panted. “Daddy’s gonna always make your pussy feel good, Baby. I’m gonna take care of you. Buy you whatever you want. Give you every fucking thing your boyfriend wouldn’t.”

Your pussy was gripping his dick like a vice. How were you so close already. “Please?”

“Is that what you want?” He asked in that condescending voice, you’d always hated, but fuck he was going to make you cum because of it. “Want me to buy you nice things. Be your boyfriend. Give you a fucking family.”

If he wasn’t balls deep inside of you, you would have probably reacted differently to him confessing that he wanted something with you. More than just this, but fuck hearing it like this only made you that more far gone. “Yes!” You moaned a little too loudly.

He clamped his hand over your mouth to shush you. “Shhh, Baby. You don’t want everyone to hear you getting dicked down do you? Want everyone to hear me fucking you?”

You shook your head, but stopped as you tilted your head back because you couldn’t stop it. Your eyes got all glazed over as your orgasm hit. 

“That’s it, cum for me.” He breathed. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum in your pussy.”

“Yes,” you whimpered. You could feel him so deep in your stomach. You can’t remember the last time you got fucked like this. No one else had ever been able to do this to you. 

As he finally couldn’t hold out anymore, cumming deep inside of you he still moved his hips. Making sure you got all of him.

He laid on top of you for a minute, not pulling you as you both came down from your orgasms. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. How the hell were you going to explain this to everyone. 

He rolled beside you before pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his shoulder. Still trying to catch your breath. “Fuck.” He laughed. 

You chuckled. “I know.”

“Why did we wait so long to do that again?” He asked.

“Because I hated you.” You didn’t mean to let out a bigger laugh because your lower half was way too sore for that. 

He rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. No, you didn’t.”

“I wanted to.”

“Brat.” He chuckled. “I just... I meant everything I said.”

“What?”

“That I wanna be with you...” he replied. “That I wanna make an honest woman outta you.” You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain that damn facade. He was making it hard because this smile spread across your face. “I’ll even let you live with me when you pack your shit out of that old man’s house.”

“Moving so quickly? Ransom, I’m shocked at you.”

“Look, I’ve put up with your shit for a year a half already,” he explained, “I already know that I want you.”

“You fucking sap!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Why don’t you suck my dick about it?” He rolled his eyes.

You shrugged. “Okay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

----------

You didn’t fall asleep until the sun was already coming up. Every time you tried before that; Ransom would start kissing your neck. You were exhausted, but satisfied in a way you hadn’t been in a long time.

You woke up to rustling on the bed. You tried to feel for him because although you were still cozy you wanted his warmth, but he wasn’t there. “Ransom?” You yawned, peeking your eyes open to him fixing the comforter. 

Oh.

“Hey, Baby,” he said with a smile on his face. He leaned over to kiss your forehead. “I gotta go, okay. I have some errands I have to run.”

You nodded, before wrapping your arms around him. He held you to him tightly kissing your forehead more. “Do you have to?”

“Mhmm,” he replied. “I told Simon I’d help him with this surprise for Ava

“Okay. I love you,” you replied sleepily before dozing off again. He smiled down at you before laying you back down, kissing your forehead before leaving. 

You woke up again to Ava jumping up and down on your bed. “Get up!” She cheered. 

“What are you twelve?” You grumbled. Then your eyes cracked open when you fucking realized you’d told Ransom that you loved him. “Oh no.”

“What? Wait, are you naked?” She raised both of her eyebrows as she got settled beside you in bed. “Did you and Ransom...”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling like you might puke. You fucking told Ransom Drysdale that you loved him. “What? No. I just got really hot last night.”

“Where’s your pillow wall?” She asked with a smirk.

“We were too drunk last night to remember?” 

“Bitch, you slept with Ransom Drysdale!” She gasped. “What about David?”

“Um... David and I are... I was already going to end things with him.

This annoyingly shit eating grin spread across her face. “You dirty slut. Okay, well, I don’t think Simon would mind if you stayed with us until you got back on your feet.”

“Actually, I already found a place. I just... I didn’t want to ruin your fun, ya know.”

She sighed. “Y/N, I’m your best friend. Your problems are my problems. I wouldn’t have cared if you told me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You smiled. 

“So...” another smile spread across her face, “how was it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking.” You laid back down, turning on your side and ignored her as she continued to ask questions.

You got your nails done with Ava, Trish, and Simon’s sister. Still thinking about what you’d said to Ransom. Nerves had started to settle in that you’d done something wrong. Raking your brain trying to remember if he’d even said anything back. You couldn’t remember.

It was Christmas Eve now and there was supposed to be this super fancy party today that the family apparently threw every year. Of course, you were going to wear the dress Ransom had bought you. There was no question. It fit in more. Besides okay maybe you wanted to look pretty for him whatever.

Neither him or Simon had come back by the time everyone started getting ready. You did your makeup in Ava’s room before going back to yours to get dressed. The was a knock on the door as you’d just finished.

“Hey,” Ransom leaned down to kiss your cheek lightly to not mess up your makeup. Setting down a little gift bag on the bed. “You look... you look beautiful.”

You were going to have to get used to him being nice to you. “Thank you.” 

“Sorry, it took so long. You know Simon. Has to go above and beyond.” He chuckled. 

You waited for him to get ready, checking your phone. David had been texting you throughout the trip. Not that you ever responded. You thought when you’d get to the end of this trip, you’d be dreading the drive home. Instead, you were hopeful of what was to come. 

"So, I kind of got you something,” he said before the two of you could leave the room.

You frowned. “I didn’t get you anything back.”

“That’s okay. I don’t think either of us were expecting this,” he replied. “I just wanted you to know I was serious about everything.”

“Okay.”

He clenched his jaw as he grabbed the bag he’d placed, taking out a jewelry box which he handed you. You looked up at him with those big eyes. “I saw you looking at it at that store so...”

“You’re such a sap,” you sniffled.

He smiled. “I just... when you told me I love you this morning, I didn’t say it back. I wanted to say it when I gave you this so... I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded and he pulled you to him, hugging you tightly. You really didn’t want to mess up your makeup so you forced yourself not to tear up. Except lipstick be damned because you were not, not going to kiss him.

It was taking you everything to not hold his hand as the two of you walked into where the party was starting to pick up a little. He looked so cute in his red sweater. Simon and Ava were being doted on by his grandparents. 

“So, Ava kind of figured it out,” you said as he handed you a glass of champagne. 

“How?” He asked.

“You didn’t lock the door and I was still naked under the covered.”

He snickered. “Should have given her an eye full.”

You shook your head. “I’ll give you an eye full.”

“You already did, Buttercup.” He shrugged.

“Why do you call me that?” You rolled your eyes.

His face started to get all red. You’d never thought in all your days you’d see Ransom blush. Between the two confessing your feelings for one another, of you having sex, you accidently telling him you love him, and him telling you that he wanted to be with you, making him blush made you feel like you’d won whatever game the two of you had been playing.

He sighed. “Well, okay, so when me and my cousin Meg were younger, she was obsessed with the Powerpuff Girls. I didn’t want to admit that I kind of liked it. Your bad attitude reminds me of Buttercup. She was my favorite.” He rolled his eyes looking away from you like he was embarrassed.

“You’re shitting me.” This smile spread across your face.

“Shut up.” He wrinkled up his nose.

“Never would have guessed that under all that wool and assholeness was a sweetheart waiting to burst out of the seams,” you teased him.

“You’re so lucky I think you’re pretty or else I think I might drop kick you.” He sighed.

----------

Christmas Day passed by nicely and easily. Mostly with everyone relaxing. You spent most of it tucked into Ransom’s side drinking hot chocolate watching Christmas movies with everyone because at this point the two of you are just a cliche. Which was fine because you liked it. 

He’d whisper I love you in your ear. Or pull you under the mistletoe because he’s corny. Ava and Simon teased you while Trish swore that she called it, which she kind of did.

When it was time go home you were a little sad. You liked being in this little bubble with him. Now you’d have to go home and deal with having to officially break up with David and having to talk Ransom out of taunting him. Of course, Ava and Simon offered up their place until you got on your feet, but him being him pretty much demanded that you live with him.

Normally you would kick yourself for moving so quickly and you don’t know why, but you saw something in him. Of course, you weren’t going to be able to move all of your stuff out today, but there were two very important things that you needed. David wasn’t even there when you got home. He was probably still at his parents.

“Hope you like cats because I’m not leaving them,” you’d told him as you packed them into their carriers. 

He groaned, throwing his head back. “Fine, but you’re giving me a blowjob as soon as we get home.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you said before placing a wet kiss on his cheek just to annoy him.  

“Hey, you wanna have sex in his bed before we go?” He asked with a smirk.

“You’re an awful person, you know that?” You put your hands on his chest. “Of course I do.”

“God, I love you.” He grinned before pressing his lips to yours. 

[mayonnaisetoffees]

DtA Daily Day 10

(Day 1 - Beginning) (Day 7 - Previous)

Cas is late in his vanishing act come dusk, and he’s got company, which he so isn’t interested in seeing. In the pause that follows, he risks a glance inside to see Cas and a woman, and surprisingly, both are fully dressed.

I'm sorry Dean but "he so isn't interested in seeing" IMMEDIATELY followed by "he risks a glance inside" is hilarious.

“It’s too dangerous at this time.” “They should know what’s happened.”

Again, I love the little nuggets of world building, the lines that remind you that there is a whole world here that Dean doesn't know. People, procedures, he has yet to learn.

“That’s an order, Vera.” There’s an uncomfortable silence before she says acidly, “Understood. Permission to leave, sir?”

Formality as an insult will always be beautifully cutting.

Dean winces. Cas is just lucky he doesn’t have a middle and last name to drag out and throw at him; that tone just begs for it.

I'll come back to this one in 76 days.

He hasn’t once found a single sign of random bouts of orgies (something he’s checked for very carefully since that couch is kind of his home away from home right now)

Ahh the Chitaqua Fuck Couch. I cannot find the exact post I'm looking for but luckily I have until the end of A Thousand Lights in Space to find it.

If Cas were less a dick, Dean would kind of think this is some kind of half-assed try at being thoughtful.

Comments like this when the series is tagged Castiel/Dean Winchester like ahahahaha you don't even know what's coming.

Despite the slightly improved living conditions, Dean notes that the pile of newly-washed clothing behind the couch that seems to be Cas’s idea of clothing storage grows and wanes but never finds its way into something like a closet or a dresser. Washing dishes seems to be on an at-need basis

Listen, Dean, we've all been there, don't judge. You spent your life living out of your car, what do you know?

A life lived in motels of the budget variety means that Dean isn’t exactly an expert on long-term habitation, but he stayed enough with Bobby (and Lisa) to get the basics beat into him and Sam reinforced it with prejudice.

Okay yeah a line later it's explained... Okay maybe I'll go sort my laundry and washing up.

Dean thinks, appalled: so this is what happens when everything you need to know about life is based on the gospel of John Winchester, as interpreted by a Sam-less Dean. In unholy emphasis of who exactly took care of Cas’s human-training, Cas keeps his books and his weapons immaculate, the books kept in a tiny room off the kitchen that was probably a glorified utility closet in a former life with obviously recently augmented shelving. Feeling masochistic, Dean pulls open the bedroom closet door to confirm the reason that he should never be placed in charge of a small child, a pet, a houseplant, or a Fallen angel unless the conditions are wartime and Sam is willing to be his fulltime co-parent.

So this is one of those sections that makes my brain whir like my laptop when I'm running a declicker on audacity. The thing about Dean in this world is that he hates End!Dean so much not because he can't understand why is is the way he is, it's because he can. This is the life he learnt from John Winchester: a life committed to a single task. A revenge mission that comes above all else. This is what happens to Dean if Sam isn't there. I think it's interesting to see the differences between this Dean and End!Dean and I'm not sure whether that's more because Dean is looking at the consequences of a Sam-less Dean, or because (as far as he knows) Sam is safe and well in their timeline.

At some point it had been thoroughly gutted and stripped down for its new and improved personal arsenal use, the top third of the back wall pegged to hold a survivalist’s wet dream of guns ranging from handguns to the kind of rifles that usually require active duty in the military to even look at, much less use, all meticulously cleaned and ruthlessly organized by type. Below them hang several sets of knives from the basic pocket and utility up to a machete kept at razor sharpness line the wall beneath them. The bottom third of the closet is taken up by neatly installed shelves with the top holding an assortment of worn leather and battered metal cases where specialization is key.

Ah yes, the three genders: gun, knife, specialised. (Also we'll be coming back to this when we talk about gun people and knife people).

Cas may do junkie as a lifestyle choice, but the Dean Winchester here wouldn’t have let him get away with that when it came to what mattered, and all that ever mattered was killing Lucifer. He was way too pissed at Dean sacrificing his team, sacrificing Cas, to wonder why he had chosen to bring Cas along at all. John Winchester’s training is the kind of thing that’s bone-deep, inescapable no matter how far you go and God knows, Sam did his damndest and still couldn’t lose it. Staring around this suddenly familiar cabin, he thinks that some things must pass in the blood or something, because if he peels away the cheap gloss of the hedonistic druggie, his own fingerprints one universe over are all over Cas.

Literally put my brain in a blender it would be kinder. It's the way that this way of life is John Winchester's, but Dean sees the behaviours as his fault. He (well End!Dean) taught Cas how to live like this. He taught Cas how to survive, but not how to live.

It belatedly occurs to him that for a camp whose fearless leader is noticeable in his absence, it’s running just fine.

Dean doesn't even know about the coup yet...

[actualbird]

I got distracted reading 4-04 and 4-05 i totally forgot the actual thing i was supposed to ask you today, what are your thoughts on the kinds of shows the nxx team wouldve watched as kids growing up. MC and Luke have apparently watched animes and even dressed up as characters but i have this need to know the finer details. LIKE. WHAT DID YOU WATCH SPECIFICALLY?? And i remembered you said luke was the one who probably understood most of the terms zangr was saying so like?? Luke do you like these kinds of things?? -Marsh

MARSH, thank you so much for this ask and for the SPECIFIC WORDING "watched as kids growing up." because that makes me have to go back in time and thusly uncovering by far my favorite yet most under-utilized and never-brought-up detail of tears of themis:

the story of this game takes place in the year 2030

DO U HAVE ANY IDEA HOW FUNNIER THIS MAKES SHIT???? AND ALSO HOW MUCH MORE SENSE STUFF MAKES??? let me explain myself by going thru all the boys one by one

luke pearce

YEAH HE SAID HE AND MC WERE RLLY INTO ANIME AS KIDS. luke pearce who is 24 years old in 2030 means that from the Important Media Ages (12-15) it was 2018-2021. this period of time, anime started getting more and more accessible, most notably getting on netflix and stuff like this. so like all the anime on netflix rn? yeah luke's watched them.

though because i kin luke, imma say that his fave is fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood. ive got no characterization proof for this, i just want to give him this honor

additionally, luke is a HUUUUGE fan of the original Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle novels (ACD Sherlock) and i think this would have pushed him to watch like, just every popular sherlock media adaptation there is. he personally liked Elementary better than BBC Sherlock. he generally just gravitates to the adaptations that dont forget about the heart of all of the characters.

also also also, luke likes action movies ranging from "hey this is "good" to critics" to "this is a shit movie but MY GOD IS IT FUN!!!"

artem wing

artem wing who is 29 years old in 2030 means that from the Important Media Ages (12-15) it was 2013-2016. but also artem is a MOVIE SNOB LMAOOO, hes That Guy with the Opinions On Film and you bet that his analytical ass was into just the most extra shit to watch those days because no teenager is chill, every teenager has some kind of ego, i dont know what movies he would have watched at that point to be the Smartest Teenager About Movies, but he sure did watch them

though artem also is very into sci-fi literature and 2013-2016 had a BUUUNCH of huge sci-fi movies. Pacific Rim, Gravity, Interstellar, Arrival. Arrival is deffo artem's fave, dont fight me on this, i can explain further but not in this answer bc it will get LOOONG LOL

artem also is into "classics" which uh. wait artem what do you Mean by that, what is a "classic" for somebody born in 2001??? i dont really know exactly what he means by "classics" so i just take it to mean he's a slut for period dramas which leads me to my closing point

"Once upon a time, when [Artem] was younger, around 17 years old, he pondered identifying as asexual or as one of the subsets under that term, but he put that aside after he first watched Pride and Prejudice (2005). He had then acquired a recurring fantasy in which he would be sensually accosted by Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy in a secluded study after months of furtive, charged glances, lingering, split second touches, double entendres classily and subtly masked but still implying a repressed yet voracious—Moving on." -an excerpt from my comedy smut fic where artem goes thru a crisis. yeah. yeah. Pride and Prejudice dir. Joe Wright was his bisexual awakening.

MOVING ON!!

vyn richter

vyn richter who is 27 years old in 2030 means that from the Important Media Ages (12-15) it was 2015-2018 but honestly that doesnt help me AT ALL LOL BECAUSE VYN IS A TOUGH NUT TO CRACK.....

like honest to god i cant even imagine vyn as anything other than an adult KJBSJKFS (which is depressing, if i think about it more... but also what vyn would want, i assume he would hate for people to have known him as a child, imperfect and shunned.....which is ALSO DEPRESSING. VYN, U GOOD???)

okay yknow what im not studied enough in Vyn Richter Studies so i will come back to this once ive gotten more of his story and know more of his (what im theorizing to be a SHITASS TERRIBLE) childhood history. so vyn, i guess ur safe from me....ur safe FOR NOW, THAT IS....

marius von hagen

marius von hagen who is 21 years old in 2030 means that from the Important Media Ages (12-15) it was 2021-2024. good fucking lord, marius was born in 2009 and that makes him so young that his Important Media Ages arent even DONE HAPPENING IN OUR CURRENT TIMELINE, JESUS....

2021 is an interesting era of entertainment because it is getting steadily more and more apparent that corporate greed is trying to swallow up good storytelling; movies and shows are made as fast food products to be consumed immediately and thrown away just as fast. there are smarter posts and articles talking about this, but my point here is that marius "believes SO MUCH in art and art's capability to make a difference" von hagen would HATE THIS SO MUCH and, through spite, get into a lot of indie medias that dont necessarily sell. smaller movies, tv shows that got cancelled way before they should have.

oh, hey, MARIUS WAS 12 YEARS OLD IN 2021, yeah he could have watched The Owl House and threw a fucking FIT when disne/y nerfed the show's third season. he has not forgiven and he has not forgotten.

regardless of his age, marius, at some point in his teens watches Vincent and the Doctor (s5 e10 from Doctor Who). for those who dont know this episode, it involves Vincent Van Gogh and a bunch of sci-fi stuff but, at the end, a scene where Van Gogh is taken to the future and shown the impact his art has made on people. please watch it, if you havent it, it's very good and no words can do the experience justice.

anyway yeah marius watches it and it makes him FUCKING SOB

yeah so these are my takes kdjbfdsjfs

[chasingpj]

𝐀 𝐒𝐞𝐭-𝐔𝐩

"We should go pick the strawberries over there. Percy and Y/n can work on the ones here."

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 3,887

warnings: none?? pls let me know if i missed anything

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story click here

a/n: hi hi! I was supposed to post this yesterday, but oops. I don't have much to say. again, it's a little bit of a slow start just because I want to introduce characters and establish relationship dynamics before getting into the good stuff. anyways, i hope you like it! i love hearing feedback so don't hesitate to reach out to me!

Part One Part Two Part Three

When you were stressed or needed to be alone with your thoughts, you often found yourself in the strawberry fields, either helping collect the harvest or simply sitting on the grass patches nearby. You usually preferred being in the fields alone, peacefully listening to the chirping of the birds and cicadas while inhaling the scent of sun-baked strawberries. However, there were times where you did stumble upon the company of the girls from the Demeter and Aphrodite cabin. You didn't mind hanging out with them, always amused at their banter and choice of conversation. They were always bubbly, taking advantage of the leisure activity to gossip and have girl talk, and it was nice, even if you were just listening.

Today was one of those days where you weren’t alone in the fields. Standing alongside Silena, Katie, and your half-sister, Lou Ellen, you find yourself zoning in and out of their conversation. Their chattering and giggling serve as background noise as you focus on cutting the strawberries from their stems to carefully place them in your basket.

"Who do you think are the cutest boys at camp?" You hear Silena ask when you decide to tune back into their conversation. A silence falls amongst the group; Katie and Lou Ellen were suddenly hesitant to speak. You look up, waiting for one of them to break the silence because it definitely wasn’t going to be you.

"I know what you're doing! You're trying to find out our crushes," Katie points her finger at Silena accusingly. Lou Ellen nods,

“Yeah, we know your tricks, Silena! You’re gonna try and set us up with people.”

"What? No!" Silena denies, but the smirk on her face said otherwise. "I'm just asking in general! You can find someone cute and not have a crush on them,” she points out. The three of you weren’t convinced at Silena’s claims, and the silence returns. You turn back to what you were doing, not really wanting to trap yourself in this conversation, and you decide to leave the pressure of confession to Katie and Lou Ellen.

"Okay.” Katie turns her body to face you. You hesitantly meet her gaze, already knowing what she's going to confess. "... this might be weird, but I think your brother is really cute," she admits, giggling nervously as she looks at both you and Lou Ellen. You scrunch your nose, shaking your head while Lou Ellen joins your reaction as she gags theatrically. The confession didn't surprise you, but it still felt weird to hear it.

"He's ugly!" You exclaim. Silena laughs, her head thrown back as Katie gasps at your insult about Atticus. Even though this wasn't the first time you've heard this from girls at camp, you still found it strange. Even your mortal friends have told you that they think your brother is adorable. You’ll never admit it out loud to anyone, but you were aware that your brother definitely wasn't ugly. Obviously, he wasn't if almost all of your friends had to mention his appearance at least once. Not only was Atticus conventionally attractive, but he was also a natural flirt, so he got attention from girls fairly easily. So much so that before your mother claimed you, Connor and Travis Stoll swore you guys were going to be claimed by Aphrodite.

You've only seen him flirt a handful of times, usually with the wood nymphs and playfully with the girls from the Aphrodite cabin. It was strange seeing girls flirt with him and giggle at all his stupid jokes because that “smooth” Atticus they meet is so different from the Atticus you saw. The Atticus you got to see was a clumsy dork that obsessed over Harry Potter and had a habit of bursting into song whenever he was bored, most often singing his own rendition of a song from a broadway musical or of a rock song from the 90s.

"No, he isn't! His facial structure is amazing!” Katie gushes. “And he's tall and has broad shoulders. He's also really funny!" You and Lou Ellen stare at her with a straight face before simultaneously bursting into laughter.

“He’s a dork!” Lou Ellen chokes through her laughs, and you nod, agreeing with her.

"Hey! I get where Katie is coming from! As his sisters, you guys are biased. Of course, you’re gonna say he's ugly," Silena points out, and you sigh,

“Live with him in the Hermes Cabin for a couple of weeks, and when you see him in his natural state, you won’t find him cute anymore,” you joke. Katie shakes her head,

“I don’t believe you. I bet he’s even cuter! You’re calling him a dork, but jokes on you, I like dorks,” she says playfully, crossing her arms over her chest, and you smile at her.

“To each their own, I guess.”

"What about you? Who do you think is cute?" Silena asks you. You side-eye the other, and you feel your face heat up. You really didn’t want to be the target in this conversation. Turning back to the bushes, you answer her question with a shrug of your shoulders. Silena scoffs, "there has to be someone! We have a good group of guys to choose from at camp."

"I mean, yeah…" you trail off hesitantly, and you feel the stares of the girls as they wait for your answer. You knew they weren't going to let this go, and so, you sigh softly, taking a moment to find the courage to confess. "I guess Percy is cute-"

"Y/n!"

Your breath hitches in your throat, and your shoulder tenses up at the sound of the familiar voice. It was too much of a coincidence that Percy showed up the exact moment you were speaking about him. The girls laugh at your reaction and your cheeks somehow become hotter as Silena smiles at you knowingly. If she didn't sense your crush before, she definitely sensed it now. Snapping your gaze away from her, you find the courage to turn around.

"Hey, Percy," you say, smiling sheepishly. You fiddle with your fingers as you take in his appearance. Percy was wearing his orange camp half-blood shirt and cargo pants. His cheeks were a little flushed at the summer heat, and you assume he probably came from training. As usual, his dark hair was slightly disheveled, and you couldn’t help your lips curling into a soft smile.

"Hey, I've been looking for you. You left these on the dock," he says, presenting the black pouch filled with your crystals in his hand. You gasp softly as you take it from him.

"Oh! Thank you. I can’t believe I forgot them," You shake your head at yourself as you put them in your strawberry basket in the meantime. You didn’t understand how your forgotten crystals never came to your mind once, especially this late in the day.

"No problem. I think they’re all in there," he smiles at you before acknowledging the girls standing behind you. "Hey, guys.”

He furrowed his eyebrows as they giggle amongst themselves. They murmur a few things to each other before turning their gaze to him again.

"Percy, I wanted to ask who do you think is the prettiest girl at camp?" Silena asks as the girls move to surround him. You're stomach flutters crazily with nerves, and you cringe, feeling embarrassed even though Percy was oblivious to the motive behind the question.

Percy looks around him, shifting his weight from one foot to another,

"This… feels like a trap,” he says slowly, making the girls giggle.

"It's not! We just want to know. Anyone, in particular, stands out to you?" Silena steps closer to him.

"Any crushes?" Katie asks.

"There has to be someone, right?" Lou Ellen smiles.

"Um… I- why are you guys asking so many questions?" He mutters, his shoulders tense up as he avoids the stares of the three girls practically towering over him.

"Guys, leave him alone," you laugh shortly. "You don't have to answer all that," you reassure him, cutting through their little circle as you squeeze between Silena and Katie.

You stand beside Percy, the girls deciding to step down and return to their original places. Silena smiles, and you can't tell what she's thinking, but you knew that the smile playing on her lips made you nervous. You awkwardly exchange a look with Percy, noticing that he was just as flustered as you were.

"You know… I noticed that those bushes over there get a lot of sun," Silena says, breaking her silence as she turns to Katie and Lou Ellen. She points at the bushes about three rows from where you were all standing, and Katie nods,

"We should go pick the strawberries over there. Percy and Y/n can work on the ones here." Silena gives you a smirk, winking at you before turning around and taking the other girls with her.

You resume your strawberry picking, chewing on your button lip. You were hoping that he didn't witness Silena wink at you because if he did, it was then way too obvious that the girls spontaneously set up this. There's a silence for a moment, and you feel your palms start to sweat as you try to figure out what you were going to say to him.

"Where's Ambrose?" Percy asks softly, and you glance over for a second, watching as he picks the strawberries beside you.

"Oh, uh, he ran off a little while ago with my brothers. They're probably playing somewhere." You smile, remembering how Ambrose wasted no time, running over to Alabaster and Ernest the moment they had offered to play with him.

"... how do you play with a ghost dog?" Percy gleams, amused at the idea of playing with Ambrose considering he couldn’t touch many things.

"There's a process where you can offer things to his spirit, so he has a few toys that he can play with," you explain. “He and I play with his toys all the time, but he’s with my brother’s right now, so they're probably wrestling."

"What? Really? I wouldn’t want to wrestle Ambrose,” Percy admits as a short laugh comes from his mouth.

"Yeah, me neither. He would definitely win if we did. Once he was so excited to see me; he jumped on me and knocked me down no problem,” you shake your head. “I think he forgets how big he is, and he ends up getting carried away sometimes.”

You look up from what you were doing, unexpectedly meeting Percy’s green eyes that resemble the color of the Caribbean sea as the sun shines into them. The butterflies in your stomach return, and you’re trying not to focus on the fact that the other was already looking at you. You look elsewhere, suddenly too shy to look at him, but your eyes couldn’t help but flicker back to his face. From this close, you noticed things about him that you didn’t see before, like the scattered freckles on his face, his long eyelashes, and his slightly chapped lips.

“I-” he stops himself suddenly, and your eyebrows furrow. The tension between you both was something you've never felt before. You didn't understand why Percy looked dazed, staring at you as if he found you to be the most captivating person in the world.

You open your mouth, but before you could speak, you see something moving at the end of the bush row. Breaking your gaze with Percy, you notice Silena's focusing intensely on you and him. It suddenly dawns on you that the strange tension was because she was working that love magic that all the Aphrodite children can do. She smirks when she sees that you’ve noticed her, and you swore you saw her mouth a “you’re welcome.” The tension suddenly falls as she hides behind the bushes right as Percy turns around to find out what you were looking at.

You giggle nervously, “um, yeah. Anyways... Ambrose can put up a fight,” you say, trying to revert to the original topic because you really didn’t want to discuss what just happened. You give him a second to get himself together, Percy looking a little disoriented after being under Silena's look magic. He blinks a few times before turning abruptly toward the strawberry bushes. A nervous chuckle leaves his lips, and his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. He shifts on his feet and nods,

“Yeah, I can imagine.” He clears his throat, his voice coming out a little higher than he had intended it to be. You bite your bottom lip, trying to refrain from laughing, and you hum softly in response.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit before your conversation had picked up again. Surprisingly, even after being unknowingly manipulated by Silena’s magic, Percy moved on quickly from the awkward tension. You found it was easy to talk to him, the two of you chatting as if you didn't just meet yesterday. The two of you talked and laughed a lot, sharing funny stories from quests or about your mortal parents.

You’ve never been a closed-off person, and you were able to share things easily with people, so the conversation flew naturally. You guys talked about the weird perks of your powers. One of the weird perks you shared is your ability to see and communicate with ghosts, and you end up freaking him out with the many stories of your paranormal experiences.

You weren't sure how long you were talking to him, but time felt like it flew by, and eventually, your baskets were filled with strawberries as you finished picking the row. The sun was lower in the sky, and you assume that it was almost time for dinner. You figured you should find your siblings, and Ambrose and Percy had mentioned that he had plans to climb the lava wall with a few of his friends. So you guys placed your baskets in the drop-off section where they package the strawberries, exchanging a short “see you later” before parting ways.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

The last thing Annabeth was expecting to see today was an out-of-breath Atticus bursting into her cabin, but there he was. She jumps in her seat at the sudden bang, the sound cutting through the silence. Her gaze snaps from her book to the door, concerned for a second as Atticus looks panicked. He lets himself in, scoping out the room in search of something.

"What are you-?"

"Have you seen Harvey?" Atticus asks, frantically looking for his familiar. Harvey is a black-footed ferret that was given to him by his mother. When you guys found out that Ambrose was for you, Atticus was pretty bummed. He was jealous that your mother had given you such a cool gift, and you had assumed that she had seen how upset he was because a few days after Hecate officially claimed you, Atticus received Harvey as a present. The morning he met Harvey for the first time, Atticus was thrilled to wake up with the ferret casually sitting on his chest.

"I'm sorry, Harvey? I don't know a Harvey?" Annabeth turns in her chair to face him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"My ferret, have you seen him?" Atticus drops to his knees, looking under the beds and the nightstands. He just saw him jump into the back window of the Athena Cabin, so he was sure that Harvey was hiding somewhere.

"Um, no?" Annabeth rolls her eyes, finding it rude that he has barged in as if he lived there. Suddenly, a small animal jumps from the top of the bookcase beside her and right on her desk. Annabeth yelps, getting up from her seat quick as Harvey snorts, and he clumsily runs across her papers before prancing across all the desks that were lined against the wall.

"Harvey, what are you doing?!" Atticus exclaims as he moves to stand up. He attempts to meet Harvey at the last desk, but Harvey jumps out of his reach just as he closes his fist to grab him. Harvey zooms across the room, forcing him to play a one-sided game of tag that Atticus was definitely losing. He occasionally slips and stumbles, the snorts that leave his snout starting to sound like mocking laughter.

"What's wrong with your rat?" Annabeth jokes as her eyes follow Harvey around the room.

"He's a ferret," Atticus corrects her, mumbling under his breath. He sighs as he tries to catch up with the animal, failing miserably as not only was he crazy fast, he was able to find the smallest corners to hide in.

"Similar family," she shrugs, smirking at him. "And you didn't answer my question."

Atticus sighs, getting on the floor to try and grab Harvey, who’s tucked in the corner under one of the beds. He squints at the small animal, not sure why he’s acting this way when Harvey was curled up on his desk, peacefully taking a nap about 20 minutes ago.

"He does this sometimes. I don't know. He wants to play, and then he causes chaos," Atticus grunts, almost grabbing Harvey, but he runs out of his reach once again. Atticus groans as he sits back on his heels, pinching the bridge of his nose. He decides he might as well take a breather since he's been chasing him for the past 10 minutes, and he considers that he should stop entertaining him since Harvey obviously saw this as some game.

He sighs softly, choosing to forget about Harvey as he looks over at Annabeth. Her gray eyes are fixed on him as she leans against the edge of her desk. Her curly blonde locks are pulled back in a messy low ponytail allowing the front strands to frame her face prettily. Atticus smiles as he admires her, taking in her appearance before she starts telling him off.

"You look pretty like that," Atticus compliments, his heart skipping a beat as their eyes meet. He watches as her expression softens for a second, her eyes wide at the random compliment. Atticus smirks softly, not surprised, as her face suddenly darkens into a scowl. If Annabeth felt anything for him, she was good at hiding it.

When Atticus had first arrived at camp last summer, Annabeth and he spoke here and there. Their conversations were brief but pleasant, and Atticus found himself wanting to talk to her more often. As his crush for her grew, he had taken it upon himself to harmlessly flirt with her, hoping she’d get the hint that he was interested.

"Like what?" She asks, her chin up as she moves to stand up straight on her feet.

"With your hair in a ponytail like that. It's cute.”

"Hmm. Thanks for letting me know, so I'll never do it like this again,” she says in such a serious tone that made Atticus laugh. There it is. Annabeth was always quick to shut him down, and she never failed to make witty comebacks. He was pretty certain that it was just banter, but it made it hard to tell if she was maybe into him. But he never failed to notice how occasionally, she’d momentarily be lost for words or have a flustered look on her face before it hardened as it did a moment ago.

"You'd be pretty regardless, Chase.” He feels his knees start to ache, and he sighs as he gets back up on his feet.

"Don't call me that," Annabeth says abruptly.

"What? Chase? What do you prefer? Annie? Beth? Anna?" He teases.

"I prefer Annabeth, thank you." She gives him a tight, sarcastic smile, and a short laugh comes from Atticus’s mouth.

"That's not fun, though…" His hand comes under his chin as he studies her. He ponders for a second, trying to come up with a name that he can personally call her. Annabeth shifts, avoiding his gaze as she looks elsewhere. She was weirded out that the other was looking at her for so long, and she tried not to show how flustered she actually was. She grunts,

"What?! What are you look-"

"Goldilocks," Atticus blurts out, his finger pointing into the air as his face brightens, thinking he’s an absolute genius for coming up with that name. Annabeth shakes her head,

"Don't call me th-"

"It's been decided. I will call you goldilocks. No one else can call you that," Atticus cuts her off, the same proud smile plastered on his face even though Annabeth’s eyes narrow dangerously at him. Atticus takes a step back hesitantly. At first glance, she didn’t come off as intimidating, but Atticus knew better. He was always sure not to push her too far because he was completely aware of her ability to kill him.

Atticus suddenly remembers Harvey, noticing how the sound of his little feet pattering along the wooden floor ceased a while ago. He scans the room finding Harvey standing on his hind legs a couple of feet away, calmly watching them. Atticus still couldn’t understand why he had acted so strangely. Familiars couldn’t talk, obviously because they’re animals but their actions are never out of vain. They’re usually trying to tell you something if they’re acting strange, and it takes a while to put the pieces together since there is only so much they can do. After thinking for a second, it dawns on Atticus that Harvey purposely made him come to the Athena Cabin so that he can talk to Annabeth. He smiles to himself, walking toward Harvey. He didn’t run away this time, allowing Atticus to put him on his shoulder.

"He just stopped,” Annabeth points out, her head tilting to the side.

"Probably got tired?" Atticus makes an excuse for him, not wanting to admit that Harvey had decided to be his wingman today. "Sorry for barging in, by the way," he apologizes. “I saw him jump in from the window, and I was worried he’d break something.”

"Whatever. Don’t do it again.”

"Got it. Well, I'll see you around, Goldilocks. Happy studying.” Atticus turns on his heels, hearing a scoff coming from Annabeth as he walks out of the cabin.

"When did I ask you to be my wingman?" Atticus asks Harvey as he walks off the steps of the Athena Cabin. He reaches up, his index finger petting the top of his head. "You're crazy, bud... But she is cute, isn't she?" Atticus laughs, Harvey snorting as if he agrees with him.

masterlist

[thorxthunder]

I wish you would have told me| Mobius M. Mobius x GN! Reader

Hey folks! This took me forever to write.

This was written at the request of @yeeetmyasss. Thank you for being my first request! <3

WARNING: THIS STORY HAS IMPLIED/MENTIONED S.A. AND DRINKING. IF EITHER MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, PLEASE DO NOT READ.

Request: Could you do a Mobius x reader where they’re best friends and low-key in love with each other, but she (or they) keeps avoiding the topic of them dating? One day, Mobius accidentally finds out she had a history of SA prior to TVA, and accidentally lets his newfound knowledge slip out while they’re drinking together. Although uncomfortable at first, she slowly opens up to him about it and explains that she didn’t tell him because she didn’t want to ruin the fun, light-hearted relationship that they have. Mobius comforts her, and it ends up with them getting together

Word Count: 2,695 (My longest fanfic so far!)

A/N: Listen, I'm posting this at 3:15. Don't kill me if something is misspelled. Simply, let me know. :) anyways, let's get started

The first time you saw him, you really didn’t think much of him. It was a normal day at the TVA, and your main priority was to help catch up the new Minutemen.

Being one of the top analyst, you were always training new recruits, or you were filling out mounds of paperwork. You had become Ravonna’s right hand, so she trusted you with more work than most other analyst. So naturally, you didn’t mind much attention to other workers around you.

This day started with you showing new Minutemen around the office and where to find the resources they needed. Thankfully, this was one of your easier tasks you were in charge of. So here you were, explaining to a group how important their work was in order to protect the timeline.

“And can anyone tell me why we must take a time charge every time we catch a variant? I know we’ve talked about a lot today, but this is important.” You announced, walking the recruits over to the lockers. “Anyone? I promise there are no wrong answers.” You questioned.

“Is it to reset the timeline, so it goes back to normal?” A voice shouted from the back.

Smiling, you replied, “Good job! You are correct! Now, I will leave you all here to get ready. We’ll be doing some hands-on training today.”

As you began to walk away, you saw Ravonna glancing at you. “Y/N? A word, please?” You were afraid. If she wanted to speak with you, you probably had messed something up. But thankfully, this wasn’t the case.

“Great job on the training, so far. Before you go, I want you to take one of our new analyst. They’ll be shadowing you.”

“Nice! Who are they?” You happily gleaned. You enjoyed working alone, but it was always nice getting to work with others.

“His name is Mobius. But before you go to meet him…” Ravonna slowly walked toward you, giving you a genuine look of concern.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable going back to earth. I know last time wasn't the best but, I’m worried about you.”

And in came a flash back.

The scent of cigar smoke. A sentence, spoken in an unusual inflection. A certain date. The smell of his cologne, his car, his apartment. “Be good for me”

Your focus immediately landed on a Ravonna, who was still staring at you.

“I’ll be fine.” You spoke. “It’s been a long time since then. I'm much better now.”

“Alright. I trust you. Now, Mobius should be out there. He won’t be hard to miss.” She chuckled to herself.

And there he was, a very attractive man, who looked very out of place. He wore a crisp brown suit, and his hair looked like it’d been dipped in silver. His short hair was slightly moving, since he was standing under a vent, and he had a mustache, which made him a true silver fox.

The man was studying his tempad, with calculating eyes. For some reason, he sent a shiver down your body.

Shaking your head, you slowly walked up to him. “Excuse me? Are you… Mobius?”

And that was the first time you saw him.

———————————————————————

“The timeline is about to collapse, and we’ve lost the variants.” Y/N leaned dramatically on their hand. “Why did I ever kiss up to Ravonna?”

Mobius poured you both a drink. “Well, don’t quote me on this, but I’m pretty sure it’s because you’re one hell of an analyst. I mean, who else can fill out 7 different advisors paperwork and catch 11 variants in one shift! ”

“I guess you're right. But why me? I’ve been doing this for… I don’t know how long. It’s always ‘Y/N, you need to fix this person mistake’ or ‘You need to catch these variants because they’re super dangerous’.” You hissed to Mobius. You quieted yourself, realizing that you’ve taken an angry tone. You weren't angry at Mobius. You were angry at the entire situation. You then attempted to prove your point in a more calmly manner. “Why can’t it be ‘Good job! You’re doing great.’ or ‘Hey, take some time to yourself. You deserve it!’.”

Mobius sat down and wiggled on the couch as he settled. “Well, I’m proud of you. You’ve done so much for me and countless others. You’re one of the most hardworking, strong-willed individuals I've met in all the eons I've been here. I care a lot about you. I’ll stick it up to Renslayer, if I have to. ”

There was a kindness in his voice. It wasn’t a fake kindness, like Renslayer when she needed you to do extra work. It was genuine and real.

“Thanks” you spoke.

That's all you could say. How else could you respond?

It wasn't easy to admit, but, you really were falling hard.

You both looked at each other in silence for several seconds, before getting up and walking over to where all the alcohol was stored.

After many drinks, a silence fell between you two. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, it was more of an understood silence.

You knew that every time you are around each other you didn't always have to talk, you just really enjoyed each other's energy.

Every once in a while, one of you asked the other question. It started from “Where do you see yourself in five years” to “Do you like dogs or cats better” to “Tell me about the funniest variant story”

While you both tried to stay light-hearted, things quickly became a bit more serious. Mobius had started talking about how he had frequent nightmares since the Loki variant had arrived. And you can’t blame him. This had put stress on everyone, even if they weren't working on the case. Instead of telling him to stop, you kept listening. You knew what it felt like to not be listened to. You both were seen as strong figures, but you both needed your own reassurance.

After Mobius had finished ranting to you, he changed the subject to a more lighthearted conversation; The time you first met. And no, he wasn't talking about the first mission. He was talking, more specifically, about the time you first locked eyes with each other.

He would never tell you this but, when he first saw you, he thought he had died and gone to heaven. The TVA didn't have much beauty in it, but seeing you, made the TVA shine brighter the stars on every timeline combined.

HE LOVES YOU

Oh, he loves you more than, dare he say it, jet skis. This wasn't an easy topic to bring up. But he had to know. You have been friends for eons, flirting for nearly all that time.

Even though this was supposed to be a co-worker date, this felt more like therapy with your husband as the therapist.

Mobius wanted you to speak your emotions. He also wanted to learn more about a certain note that was in your case file.

Mobius set at a dark oak desk scattered with paperwork and files of his fellow co-workers. While most employees of low ranking in the TVA didn’t have accesses to this information, Mobius was different. Everyone had taken a liking to Mobius. I mean, who wouldn’t? He was a snarky yet kind man with killer looks. Therefore, Ravonna let him do seemingly whatever he wanted. Recently, you and mobius hadn’t been seeing each other. You had a bunch of new people to train, and Mobius had been promoted to variant supervisor. On one of his few downtimes from work, he decided to go through some case files and would luck have it, he found your file first. Mobius chuckled to himself. ‘You know, she’d kill me if i read this. Good thing she won’t know,’ he thought to himself. He prided himself on trust, but this was the one time he could set this ideal aside. He scanned through the file, reading the basic information like you name, gender, temp-pad issue number etc. As he read further and further, something caught his eye: A stack of stapled papers that read:

“Incident #551809-B: Variant aggravated sexual assault. Incident occurring on timeline #06261987. Parties involved: TVA Analyst, (Y/N)(L/N), Variant: Mark E Richards. Variant Status: Tried, then pruned”

Mobius couldn’t believe what he was reading.

This is what you had hidden from him all this time.

This is what you were afraid of telling him.

This was why you hated physical contact with other employers.

Mobius couldn’t read more. He was sick.

How could someone involved in that incident be so filled with love today?

How could anyone hurt you on purpose?

He didn’t know how any of this could happen. He swore to himself that he would never bring it up. Not only that, he felt guilty going through the file, but it helped him understand you more.

And here you both were sitting on the couch, drinking and enjoying the company.

“Listen, I really enjoy talking to you, but there’s something on my mind. Can I ask you a question?”

Mobius sat his glass on the side table at the end of the couch, where you two had been sitting this entire time. He shifted his body to look over at you.

“Awhile back, I read something...about you.” Mobius stuttered.

Oh god, here I go

Mobius sat next to you as you watched his body shift. You could feel the heat radiating from his body. You could feel the way he wanted to say something, but saw how he kept his mouth shut, trying not to scare you away. You glanced at him for a moment. Mobius’s soft blue eyes, full of worry and care, met your warm (y/e/c) eyes. He gave me a small smile. Tiredness written all over his face.

“Awhile ago, I stubbled across your case file. I found an incident report about you. It was about you and a variant. Why haven’t you ever told me?”

You were taken aback.

As you began to noticeably fidget with your socks, Mobius began to scoot backwards to the corner of the couch.

Damn it, I messed up. I would have never asked, but these drinks are a bit too strong.

It was dead quiet for the first time this entire night. There were no sounds of others around. The record player, which was playing old songs from the 60s, had finished playing the vinyl and the arm had returned to its place.

“Will you please tell me what happened?” Mobius asked. He reached for your knee, not quite sure what to do. He did just reveal to you that he knew the one secret you had kept from him.

Instead of reaching for your knee, he slowly wrapped his hand with yours. It was... nice.

You didn't know whether it was you being tipsy or the fact that you could be 100% truthful to the man who you had truly loved. Whatever it was, broke you.

You began to cry. Tears running down your cheeks, Mobius slowly shifted his body and sat next to me. He pulled your body to his. His arms went around you while your head rested on his chest. Your tears ran freely down your cheeks to his casual green t shirt, staining it with tears. But Mobius didn’t mind.

He slightly enjoyed seeing you like this. No, it wasn’t because he had a thing for crying, but it was because he loved seeing the true side of you. The vulnerable, not worried about other, relaxed shoulder you. He knew you needed this.

A shoulder to cry on to help understand what happened.

“I was there.” You said. “He had me.” You spoke, chocking back tears.

Mobius understood everything just by those few words. You began brushing your hair back while cooing sweet nothing to you.

“He will never have you there again, (Y/n). No one will. The TVA took care of him. He paid for everything he did to you, angel. He paid the price. Don’t worry about him again. You are stronger than that. Angel, I can only imagine how hard it is for you. To know what he did to you, how he hurt you, and to know that I was useless and completely oblivious.”

“Mobius?” You spoke, slowly cupping his cheek.

“This was before you. You weren’t in my department yet. Listen, I never told you because I didn't want to ruin what was between us. We constantly had a happy relationship between each other. I felt like if I told you, it would change the way you saw me. I don't want you to see me as a charity case, I don't want you to feel like you constantly have to pity me. I want you to see me as your one and only Y/N.” You spoke, comforting Mobius.

Mobius was now the one who was taken aback.

You gave Mobius a smile, though he couldn’t see how that was possible.

Mobius gave a weak smile back. “I'm sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me. When you're around me, I want you to feel like you can tell me anything. I want you to feel like that because it's true. You can tell me anything. Knowing that you had this built up inside you for this long makes me feel terrible. I should have asked sooner, it's just that, I was afraid you might not like me if I asked. I'm sorry I went behind your back to look at the file. I love you, Y/N, more than life itself.” He said. And the moment his own words seemed to register in his head, he paled, the blood draining from his face and roaring in his ears.

You went rigid next to him. That was a lot to take in. Especially that last sentence. You think it was also hard for him to say, because you could feel Mobius’s heart racing with panic. You scooted away from him, your eyes trained on his face. “What?”

“What?” he parroted helplessly.

“That last sentence. What did you say?”

“I didn’t… say anything.”

“Mobius?”

“You know, I think I’m going to grab another drink. You want anything Y/N?”

Before he could leave the couch, your hand lashed out and clamped around his wrist. “Mobius, we’ve had like 3 drinks,” you deadpanned. Your grip on his arm loosened. “Why… Why would you say that?”

“Say what?”

“Mobius.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Mobius sighed. “I… Well, it just came out. That’s all. I understand if you don’t—”

“Did you mean it?” you said softly. Your knees were touching his lap as you knelt next to him. Mobius turned to face you, and his eyes dropped momentarily to your mouth. “Yeah. I did. I mean it,” he said stiffly.

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Without warning, you laughed, and Mobius arched an eyebrow in confusion. “I didn’t think you felt that way about me,” you muttered. “I thought… Oh, my god, I didn’t know.”

“Y/N?” he said tentatively.

“I love you, too. Oh, my god, I love you, too, and I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I, uh… I didn’t know how you’d take it. I didn’t wanna ruin what we have together.” Carefully, he placed his hands on your cheek. “If I’d known you love me back… God, I should’ve told you a long time ago.”

Your eyes glistened. “You got that right,” you mumbled.

[itsmeevie01]

A Moment in Time

ok, so. a little disclaimer before we get into the good stuff. Cannon is in no way whatsoever being followed in this. honestly? im not even sure that i REMEBER cannon at this point. that said, cannon is non applicable. at. all. 

moving on. YES, i WILL finish B!DBWM stuff eventually. but uh...not today. i just mentally cant. it. will. come. when. my. brain. can. handle. the. world. that. i. had. tailored. for. it. 

ALSO this is going to be kinda sporatic, but the goal (not end all be all but) is to have this wrapped in a pretty little package and finished (at least on my end) by the end of february.

and now....onto the stuff you came here for!

---

Marinette was running late to school when she met him. She ran into the boy and stumbled back, flailing to catch herself before she fell. He looked down at her owlishly, before looking around. By the time he had returned his gaze to her, the teen had pulled herself back together. He smiled and nodded at her, before moving to go around. When Marinette had pulled herself together enough to call a short “sorry!”, He was already gone.

That was three weeks ago. Now, she was looking at a picture of their interaction, where it blared on the front page of the newspaper that Jagged had sent her. When Marinette had received the package, she had been confused. Jagged wasn’t supposed to send her another demo for a few weeks. They were still working on singles. When she had opened the box and found five different American publications with her on their front page, the teen designer had shrieked. With shaking hands, she picked up the top one and studied the headline.

HAS BRUCE WAYNE’S WARD FOUND PARISIAN LOVE?

The bold text was catching, sure, but Marinette was caught on WHO it was placing her with. Someone she had never met. The second one had a picture of her next to Jagged at an event, and a picture of the boy next to a blonde girl. The headline wasn’t much better than the first.

TIMELINE OF THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN MDC AND THE HEIR TO WAYNE INERPRISES.

The teen snorted. She was starting to see the pattern. Putting the tabloid down the girl moved onto the next one. This one had, once again, a zoomed in picture of the five second interaction between her and a stranger. The title, however, was different than the first two.

ALL OF BRUCE WAYNE’S CHILDREN, AND THE INSIDE SCOOP ON HIS NEWEST DAUGHTER

She squinted, laughter bubbling up a little as she observed the piece of fiction. Whoever the Bruce Wayne was, Marinette hopped that he was able to combat this, because she had no intention of letting this fly.

Tim and Bruce were staring at the pile of papers in mild shock. When Jared had reached out to them in mild panic, they had been confused. His panic had been explained when the rocker had arrived carrying a stack of tabloid literature a foot thick. When he had thunk’d the stack down on Bruce’s desk, the businessman’s shock had been more than notable. When Tim had picked up the first few publications the initial look on his face was mirth, but it quickly morphed into shock, then panic. When he handed the top item to Bruce, the older man frowned. When the second pamphlet made its way to his hands, Bruce paused. His next move was to call the Wayne family lawyers. when he turned back to his old friend, all the faces in the room told the same grim tale of what was to come.

When Tim found out that it was Jared’s niece that he had accidentally run into in the brief moment in Paris, he wasn’t sure whether he should be more stressed by it, or if it was by pure luck. When Bruce’s friend went on to explain that the girl would probably already suing the reports and papers that had published the rumor, the young CEO was impressed. To have a lawyer on hand like that was…surprising, considering that she couldn’t be older than 18.

When he asked the rocker if he thought the girl would let anyone go after her, he laughed. Then, Jared Stone explained that the girl was known in Paris for squishing rumors with surprising efficiency.

That evening, Bruce invited his childhood friend home for dinner, and the star spent the evening telling stories of their capers as children, with Alfred grimacing in agreement with the stories. Partway through dinner, Jared’s phone went off. While the rest of the family tensed, glancing to Alfred, their guest frowned at his phone before rushing to answering. “Hey Little Rocker! How’s Pari- oh. So, Penny was more efficient then I thought she’d be. I- yes I figured that you may want to hear. Do- No! Marinette, what!” here, the man paused, his head cocked to the side, his eyes screwed up in thought. “No luv! Sue them within an inch of their lives! You more then have that right.” Here, the rocker paused before he laughed. “Tell that buzzing bee of yours that she’s a good friend. Alright, Miss Mari. I’ll ring you when I’m back on that side of the Atlantic.” He laughed again, “See you soon, Marinette.” The table stayed quiet, waiting for the man to give an indication on the status of the conversation. “Well, Brucie, expect to hear from my niece in the next few day, or at least, her team of lawyers.” the Wayne patriarch blinked before nodding in hidden surprise.

When the family was talking during patrol that evening, Tim grumbled. The 18-year-old was still taken aback that the press had even seen the momentary interaction almost a month ago. As his brothers listened in, many of them started to make fun of the teen. When Jason tuned in, he dropped in the middle of tale. At his confusion, Tim sighed and started over, again. While the family was laughing over his run-in with the press, the former Robin shook his head and silenced his family. He had a feeling he wouldn’t live this one down for a while.

Originally, Jason had found Tim’s predicament hilarious. Of course, the kid had to have the worst run-ins with the press. Then, he had picked up one of the many tabloids with the story. When he had seen the pictures, all mirth left the resurrected vigilante. The noirette that was looking up at him from the page? Yeah. He knew her. Better than anyone else, actually. With shaking hands, the young man paged to the story. What he found was…illuminating. So. She had been adopted. In France. In Paris. After forcing his lungs to draw breath, Jason pulled out his phone. He had arrangements to make.

The day after Jagged had sent her the gossip rags that were considered journalism, Marinette strode into school with a scowl so ingrained in in her features that anyone who didn’t know her would think the expression was permanent. When she stalked into the Lycée classroom, Chloé grinned at her from where she had settled in the front row. Marinette nodded at her friend as she slid in next to her. Lila came skipping in moments later, a cruel smile playing on her lips, before falling when she saw the bone quaking scowl resting on her nemesis’ face. “oh Marinette! Did something happen? Did…did you anger your parents? Did they find out about all those men?” the other girl huffed before turning to her. Lila froze as she was met with the iciest glare that she had seen in years.

“oh Lila. That’s so cute. It almost sounds like you still think that your little stories affect me at all. That’s…adorable.” The Italian girl shrunk under the younger girl’s stare. Suddenly, she understood why people had been warning her to leave the teen alone. this girl, she was brutal. “lucky for you, you’re not the one I’m after, this time. My lawyers have bigger fish to fry.” The newer addition to the classroom gulped, her throat suddenly very dry. It occurred to her that maybe Marinette had let her take control of the class. After all, if they turn that easily, why would she want them for friends. The smaller girl nodded as she watched the realization run over Lila’s face. Raising her eyebrows, the Eurasian girl motioned her classmate along, sending a cruel smile after her.

Chloé waited until the little liar was gone before giggling at her friend’s reaction to the girl who had become their daily annoyance. “I’m guessing you saw what’s been running in the American news? I thought it wouldn’t take long for you to respond. Are a plethora of lawsuits on the way?” Marinette giggled slightly as her severe demander giving way to the internal glee that was consuming the teen over the sheer chaos that was to come.

When Jason touched down in Paris, he tensed. The atmosphere in the city was less carefree than he remembered. There was an air that actually reminded him of Gotham. Tense. Waiting or the other shoe to drop. The expectation that your day was going to go wrong set from the moment one woke up. Pulling out his phone, the Gotamite looked up the address to the bakery that he had found when digging online. If today went the way he was hoping it would, the bakery would be his only stop for the day. Of course, he didn’t count on Gina.

When she called him over from where she was standing by her bike, Jason had to smile. The woman was part of the reason that he wasn’t still camping out in Gotham, waiting to kill a certain billionaire. Once the spry biker had latched onto his arm, the young man knew that his mission would have to wait just a bit. After all, he owed Gina almost everything he had.