#Hell or High Water|Cross Verse AU

[loverofpussyandthaitea]

Alright sluts, I need some opinions.

I am currently writing a CrocMom au that has gone to far wild and completely out of my control. I have most of the plot surrounding Luffy and Crocodile's backstory and connection figured out, that's not the problem. What IS the problem is that Crocodile is to much of a whore. Crocodile has up to at least five potential love interests that I could throw at him (not including Dragon cause that has to happen for, y'know, conception.)

Buggy, Mihawk, Buggy & Mihawk, Dolflamingo, Shanks, Corozon ECT.

Now, I know some of those options might not make sense, but see, a writers mind is an unending fucking mine field of insanity, and I would be able to make those options work pretty well.

Buggy and Mihawk would most definitely make the most sense, as they are pretty canon in their interactions and I have been itching to write cross-guild anyways.

Shanks? Knowing that Crocodile created basically his kid and also could kill him at any time and is also hooking up with his two ex's? That man is already a skank and has probably dated at least half the one piece verse, this is not far fetched.

Dolflamingo? They are the ones with the most cannon interaction and could make for a very good psychological warfare/angsty fic, but also, Dolflomingo. So like, gross.

And the last and most crackship, rarepair shit I could ever think of. Cora and Crocodile. Now, in my fic, I start with Crocodile on Ohara to involve Olvia and Robin into his cannon universe (This is also trans!Crocodile, so he's a woman right now, but he transitions after Luffy's birth) and so I can give him an excuse to adopt Robin later when she's around like, 11.

So, you have a Crocodile that fits just snuggly enough into the timeline and does not have enough trauma yet (in my universe at the least) and who has already given birth to Luffy and is already slightly regretting leaving him and who has already adopted Robin. I think that there would be a really high possibility that Crocodile would meet Cora and be like "look at this sad, pathetic, wet-cat, clumsy single father. Would be a shame if someone was to just grab it.". Which would then inadvertently save Cora's life, especially if Crocodile helped get the heart fruit and then brought them back to Alabasta.

I also wanna clarify, I don't think Law would see Crocodile as a father figure. It took fuckin forever for him to trust Cora, and that was with sacrifices that spited both hell and high water. I think Crocodile would more be seen as a mentor, especially if Law would still want to get back at Dolflamingo. Cora might try to stop that. Cora would want what's best for his son.

Crocodile? Dramatic-time-to -murder-the second-strongest-pirate-of-all-time bitch? 100% would support.

Also, the possibility of Robin and Law shenanigans kind of gets my goat.

Plus, if you add in Luffy, Ace, and Sabo, it would be chaotic as fuck, and kind of amazing!

As you can tell, I am slightly leaning more to one of these options than the others (totally not just because I want to write a Cora lives au) and I think that Cora is one of the only One Piece men that Crocodile would genuinely consider sticking with because of the way he treats other people and his kids. The possibilities are fucking endless.

Does anyone have any thoughts on this? I would take anything into consideration and I have to decide before I write the Dragon/Revolutionary chapter.

The world problems of a one piece fic writer, man.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Heyo! I was wondering if you knew many steter/sterek prison aus? I'm not well versed in ao3 filtering yet, thanks! 😊

Sure.

Those Hidden Places by Mimiminaj

(1/1 I 18,799 I Explicit I Sterek)

He doesn’t belong here.

It’s the first thought that crosses Derek’s mind as he watches the new inmates spill into the cafeteria. The kid stays close to the wall, eyes scanning all the exits and skimming over the tables. If he’s trying to get a barring for his surroundings he’s doing a shit job of it, something made completely evident as Lewis shoulders him from behind and the kid almost jumps to flatten himself against the wall.

Or

Stiles is the new inmate at Derek's prison. He really didn't expect to fall in love with the mouthy little brat.

Sixteen Years In Hell by gaydestiny

(7/7 I 23,914 I Explicit I Sterek)

So this was finally it. He was being escorted by an armed guard through a pair of double doors and into actual prison. Where he would be sharing living quarters with convicted killers, probably. Stiles may have been a bit of a badass in his own right, but he was still just a 16 year old kid, he used to be an honor student for fuck's sake, how was he supposed to deal with this?

Never Cage A Rabid Wolf by tty9

(26/26 I 49,734 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles is sent to prison, and gets assigned to a cell with-

“Hale?!” Scott gasped as his gaze followed Stiles’s. “You got Derek Hale?! Oh boy, man, good luck with that buddy, that guy is a psycho!” His voice had become worryingly high pitched. Stiles’s heart started thumping in his chest, and he swore it actually skipped a beat when Hale looked up at them, his eyes searing into Stiles’s who quickly dropped his head. His beef (or was it pork?) slop suddenly looked very interesting.

Could Frame Thy Mortal by orphan_account

(15/15 I 42,271 I Explicit I Steter)

"It’s normal. Spending every waking second watching Hale is normal. In many ways, Hale is his whole universe: tracking his movements, waiting for what he does next, wondering what he’s thinking. The only outside stimulation he gets otherwise is the shower visits, and even then it’s only when Chris is the one taking him that he gets any engagement. 

Stiles knows Hale like he knows the water pipe. The sixty two bars that line the side of their cage. Like the minute of cold water that hits Stiles’ skin before the heat finally comes in the shower block. "

Held in an Argent facility, never knowing who he can trust, Stiles pays for his survival with the only currency he has.

[brooklynislandgirl]

How does your muse communicate to others they they’re in the mood? {For a Beth}

Love like We Love || Accepting

Wine leaves sticky lip prints on the back of Anakin’s neck as she grazes the skin between his hair and his shoulders. Just a hint of caressing canine points, not a full bite, not even the threat of it. Almost like flashing a slender ankle but hiding away the rest of the leg under some expensive, flimsy skirt no more substantial than thistledown. Her breath at his ear is sweet and soft and warm. Her hands though are anything but innocent as her arms slide around him. One strays like wandering birds up his chest to splay wide fingers just at the juncture of his collar bones. The other moves slower. Under his shirt, skimming down over his belly to stop only at the low blue denim border of his jeans.

The bench he’s on has no back. So she takes it as an opportunity to arch herself into his, the gentle swells of her breasts pressing into the backs of his shoulder blades. “Dansz-wi’-me,” she slurs, the smokiest vocal fry in the words. There’s a gleam in her half-lidded eyes he can’t see but that is bright, firefly-brilliant. But if he listens closely he can hear a spark of it in her voice as it’s low, husky and the words aren’t so sharply bitten into pieces. Matches the light dimmed down to candles, Norah Jones singing Unchained Melody from cleverly hidden speakers so the woman’s honeyed voice seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Beth sways against him before pressing her mouth to the side of his neck. There’s no wine this time, but she does graze the beat of his pulse with her teeth, soothing the razor line she leaves behind with the most gentle of licks, savouring the salt of his skin.

Her mind is still in its own daze, shrouded in the muted endorphins from earlier in the night. When Beth allowed herself to remember she’s not that much older than Anakin and the world can save itself for a few hours. She can still feel the pounding drum beats throbbing in her system. The drinks had been carefully spread out between water and...other enhancements that she didn’t strictly need but that let her loosen up. Trusted as it was passed tongue to tongue, and when his pressed it onto hers, she hadn’t wanted him to stop. She knows it comes in two does, too much and not enough and in that moment she couldn’t care less which it was, not when she can taste bitter and sweet, the lush confines the walls of his mouth, feel the reticent crash of their teeth knocking together, going old school as they were. A moment that elongates until all her nerves are warm and there’s a little bit of queasiness creeping up her throat that she ignores until there’s only peace. No noises beyond those that she expects, molasses beats caught in dripping musical amber. A connectedness that saps her defences and slaughters her inhibitions. They are alive in the universal pulse of humanity where they are all wise and star struck.

She’d watched him rise like a sacrificed god, halo-wrapped while he was moving against and around the crowd. All beautiful faces and beautiful bodies. None of them that will remain in her memory come morning. And none of them nearly as perfect as Anakin himself. Drowning in the sensual borealis of sights and sounds, her gaze rarely flickered far from him as she hugged friends and sipped wine, as lights gyrated in sync with hips and shoulders packed in around her. She couldn’t quite call it jealous as she watched him flashed that slow, premeditated smile that no one but Beth could see was dry and mirthless as sand, the one meant to lull. Confuse. Disarm. Hands that moved fast as flashes of lightning too quick to really be scene, little treasures and trinkets not everyone would miss, paired with someone dangling cherries by his lips. She’s never envied fruit that much before in her life, especially when he catches one between his teeth and she can think of other things that would fit there more perfectly. And just like that she felt her priorities shift like tectonic plates after a seismic storm. He can sense it too. Let her chase him through the heat-shimmer expanse, teasingly out of reach the whole time. It was a game meant only for the two of them. She almost, almost one when they come crashing out from the double doors, past bouncers twice of size of them put together. Into the air that is just as hot as the interior had been but a thousand times wetter. Sweltering. Smoke and vape laden. They kept moving, though. Into a cab, and she can’t stop petting his shirt. His thighs. Moving ever inward, upward. Knee to hip. Wanting to bury her face in his neck where sweat damp locks curled darker than the rest. He’d kept his arms fully around her, kept her close. Closer. Until all she could breathe was him and not the foul unquestionable stench of the back seat.

Anyone else would have taken advantage of Beth. But Anakin is not everyone else. In the cab she had wanted to rage against him. Demand to know why he’d spent so much time tempting her if those whims were only going to die out when they had no audience left. Now that they are home, and a lot closer to sober, she gets it. He was giving up languishing desire to protect her. She has a lot to lose, her standing and honour to a public that needs to be able to trust her. This sweet young misfit who often did the best he could to escape the lumpen emptiness and drudgery of an often beleaguered life...cared enough, loved enough to do nothing at all when she’d all but offered herself on a silver plate.

Now though, they’re home. Behind closed doors.

And when his hands grazed her calves to help her remove the laced sandals? She’s quite surprised to realise her feelings hadn’t changed at all. That what she thought was residue of the music clinging to her skin was a deeper ache, one that she has only passing familiarity with. Her hand arrives on his throat and she tilts his head backward. Presses her chin to his brow, the tip of her nose to his. Tightens her grasp reflexively and breathes out a shuddering sigh. Far more carefully than she would have at the club, she drags her manicured nails across the denim stretched at the apex of his thighs, listening to his breath and the raspy sound below. She doesn’t remain there long.

“Dance wi’ me until dere’s no space left between you an’ me. Until we stop bein’ two separate people.”

And as blisteringly agonising as it is, she lets go. She’s still offering to be with him, but this isn’t anything like the cab. She’s aware now, painfully so. And that means giving him the chance to decide if that is something he wants. Even if he chooses to say no.

And if he doesn’t? They’ll weather that, too.

[tae-cup]

Down With The Ship | One

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female!Reader

Summary: Captain Jeon Jungkook; a beautiful mess of blood and gold. His greatest treasure, may also be his greatest downfall.

Genre: Pirate!au

Warnings: Mild mild mild sexism, talks of arranged marriage, people being asses and some people being nice

Rating: T for Teens

A/N: I’m so impatient asdfkhslkfh Cross posted to AO3

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

 Word Count: 8.2k Words

Network Tag: @castlebangtan

Other: Masterlist

Previous (teaser) | Next 

          The ship had been sitting in the harbor for exactly two days, three hours, 30 minutes, and 41 seconds. You timed it, tapping your foot against the tiles of the hallway. The moon was still in the sky and wouldn’t be rising for another three hours. You had three hours to convince the crew of that ship to take you in. Why? Well, you didn’t want to get married, that’s why. 

         The gold band around your ring finger was more of a shackle than any chain or handcuff. You snuck out of the backdoor. It was...easier than you thought it. You wore a pair of baggy pants that you stole from your brother and a nightshirt with the end result being a tragic mess. 

          On your way, you ran into a young guard. His face looked new, so he was likely in training. He looked startled to see you there and you could almost feel the nerves rolling off of him. You smiled and he looked hesitantly from you to the backdoor. 

“Hey aren’t you-?” He started, but you swiftly kneed him where the sun didn't shine and sprinted. He groaned in pain, falling down with a loud thud and probably waking up half the household. You didn’t have much time. 

          The wind ran through your hair as you hurried down the darkened streets. You tried your best to take the back routes, the smell of the sea drawing you nearer. You had always felt a connection to the sea, you couldn’t stay away from it. The crystal waters, the froth of a storm, the salt that tinged the air. You fell in love with it and fell out of love with your home. Ever since...You shook your head, trying to forget the past. 

         Your skin longed for the cool water to lap over it, to caress your body, and take you away from the awful life you had. Well, it wasn’t that awful, but it was certainly no way to live. Yes, you had luxurious items, but that wasn’t what you wished for. Adventure called to you as you neared the docks. The distant shouts of men and the sound of metal clanking against metal invaded your senses. In your hand was a small bag of necessities; a change of clothes, undergarments, a pen, and a notebook of papers. You made your way to the ship you had been watching for the past three days. 

         The ship was tall and proud, the mast reaching high into the sky. The sails were drawn in, the anchor weighing down the wood. The ship looked weathered but sturdy. There was a dim candle flame flickering in the round window of the ship. You took a deep breath and stood outside the hull. The walkway was drawn up so you weren’t left with many options. You checked your watch. You had two hours to sunrise. Two hours until everyone would begin looking for you, maybe less. You looked around the dock, searching for and gathering stones. You took a deep breath, returning to your spot. 

         Five chances. You held the other four rocks in your arm and then with your dominant hand, you gripped one of the stones. You winded up and threw. Clank. It hit the hull. No movement. You sighed and moved to aim for the window. Clank. It missed by a few feet. Three more chances. Your hands clenched and unclenched nervously. You had never been...the most athletic. Clank. Closer. Clank. Right on the money. 

        You held your breath, waiting as the candlelight suddenly disappeared from the window and the small circle popped open. The candle stuck out, now attached to an arm. The dawn was fast arriving, the sky lighting up into a gray sky, the clouds still overcast. 

“Who goes there?” A deep voice barked out. 

“I was wondering if you had any, uh, any openings on your ship for one more?” You called out, your voice traveling easily in the quiet. Upon hearing your voice, the hand withdrew, and instead, a face popped out of the hole. 

“Little girl, do you know who we are?” The man had very defining features, his nose prominent and his lips wide. 

“No, but I really just want to get out of here, you have to let me on.” You could almost hear your mother calling for you. 

“There’s a merchant ship coming in the morning, you can hop on their ship.” You saw him look you over. 

“Achem, sir, you don’t understand I...I need to go now.” 

“You being chased or something?” The man narrowed his eyes. 

“Something like that.” You smiled weakly. 

        Surprisingly, he laughed loudly and disappeared from the window. A few moments later he appeared on deck, a coat hastily thrown on as he lowered the stairs for you. 

“Climb aboard.” He held out his hand and you hurried forward heart pounding. “I’m Taehyung, the gunner on this here crew.” He explained as he redrew the walkway. “Let’s just say this isn’t the first time we’ve helped a runaway.” 

“Thank you.” You said breathlessly. 

“Though, we’ve never helped one quite as pretty as you, maybe Jin?” He seemed to go off into his own tangent. 

“I think you’re very...pretty, sir?” You said awkwardly. 

“I’m glad you think so.” He laughed and slung his arm around your shoulder. “I think you’ll fit in just fine-”

“Kim Taehyung, who the hell is this.” A new voice barked. A tall man appeared from the shadows. 

“Ah, Jungkook, this is…” Taehyung turned to you expectantly. 

“Y/N.” You finished for him, summoning a smile despite wanting to turn around and run. 

        The man, Jungkook, was intimidating, his aura commanding attention. He had inky black hair and even darker eyes. The man looked like he had just gotten out of bed and yet he still looked handsome. 

“Y/N, this is Jungkook, our fearless captain.” Taehyung stood up straighter. 

“Nice to meet you.” You bowed your head. 

“Why are you here?” Jungkook wasted no time. 

“I’m running away.” You were apprehensive to tell him much else. What if he just delivered you back home after hearing your story? Would he think you were a stuck up brat? 

“From who?”

“My mother,” You started, he scoffed. “And an arranged marriage.” You continued quietly, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. The ring on your left finger felt heavier than ever as he scrutinized you. 

“Fine. You can stay, but you need to pull your weight.” He turned on his heel. “Follow me.” 

Taehyung rushed forward, shoving you along as well. 

“Exciting! He’s never this quick in his judgment, though he’s always had a soft spot for young ladies such as yourself.” He whispered. 

“Y/N?!” Your mother’s distinct voice called. “Is that you?!” 

“Shit.” You muttered. Of course, that guard went and tattled on you! What happened to the scout’s honor?  Taehyung turned, along with Jungkook. 

“I suppose that’s your people?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow and walked purposefully past you. He was at the side of the ship in four strides. “Who goes there?”

“Lady Y/LN. I request my daughter to be returned immediately!” Your mother’s shrill voice shot through the harbor. You winced at her tone, eyes meeting Jungkook’s. You begged him not to tell her, but he didn’t seem to register you at all. 

“I’m sorry, we have no woman on this ship, Lady Y/L/N.” Jungkook responded curtly and walked away from the side, ignoring your mother’s protests. You watched him, confusion and shock written on your face. Did he just...defend you? No one had ever done that before, taken your side. It had always been you versus the world. 

“Get ready to set sail. It seems we can’t stay here much longer and Ms. Y/N, I need to speak with you immediately.” Jungkook clasped his hands behind his back, walking forward. 

          You hurried after him, falling into step just a pace or two behind. You weren’t well versed in crew behaviors, but if he was the captain, he was much like a nobleman. And you always had to fall a step behind a nobleman, regardless if you were a man or woman, but especially if you were a woman. 

           There were shouts as Taehyung wrestled his crewmates out of bed. As you sat in, what you assumed to be, Jungkook’s office, you could hear the footsteps of several other people. They all scurried to the demands of a new muffled voice. 

          Jungkook took a seat, propping his legs up on the desk and crossing them. You realized he was, in fact, no nobleman at all. He watched you carefully as you sat across from him. 

“So, you’re going to tell me all about yourself, little miss, and then I’m going to give you two options, got it?” He rested one arm on the back of his chair, the other hanging over the armrest. 

“Right.” You cleared your throat, still trying to take in all that had happened. His eyes appraised you, flickering from your eyes to your lips to your neckline. 

“Well, I’m Y/N, as you know. I ran away because I’m being forced to marry someone I don’t love, simple.” You explained dryly. You flashed your engagement ring and then slid it off, pocketing it. “Haneul isn’t a bad guy, but we don’t mix at all and I don’t think I’d survive a day married to him.” 

“Alright.” That seemed to be a good enough excuse. The captain pursed his lips in thought. “I’ll give you two options. Option one; you join my crew full time. Option two: we drop you off at the next town and you’ll be on your own.” 

“Both sound...not so bad.” You thought for a moment. He seemed amused. You wanted adventure, you didn’t want to be dumped off on your own again. “I’ll join your crew.”

“Do you know who we are?” 

“No, I just saw your ship, and, well, I’ve always loved the sea.” Your eyes went distant as you thought about it. 

       Jungkook smirked, letting out a chuckle of laughter. He took his feet off the desk and leaned on the desk, chin resting on his interlaced fingers. 

“Welcome to the crew of the Bulletproof Boy Scouts.” 

Shit.

           Okay, so jumping aboard the most feared pirate crew of the decade was not the best decision you had ever made. It was right up there with agreeing to an engagement you knew you would never follow through with and stealing your mother’s jewelry. 

“You can’t fish, you can’t wield a sword, and you can’t even cook. So what can you do, little lady.” Jungkook frowned, drumming his fingers impatiently on the desk. 

         The slight swaying of the ship was making you nauseous and it didn’t help that you were below decks and not up above. It felt extremely stuffy, borderline claustrophobic. 

“I can draw. I’ll help you navigate and write out maps.” You cleared your throat, trying to settle your stomach. 

“Hm…” His eyes were cold, calculating, as he seemed to think it over. “I suppose so, but you’ll need to help Jimin with his chores as well.” 

            Jungkook stood and motioned for you to follow him. He opened the wooden door and led you down a series of halls. They were short and thin. Your shoulders almost brushed the sides if you walked straight. You didn’t feel...scared of Jungkook. He was definitely intimidating, but you didn’t fear for your life. You had heard the tales of his crew being merciless and cutthroat, not sparing a single person on a ship if they happened to raid it. 

“There are some things we need to go over.” He stopped and turned to you. 

      You stopped short, trying not to bump into him, but a wave of dizziness washed over you. You were definitely feeling a bit seasick, but you had enough pride not to tell him. 

“Which are?” You stared at him, your expression confused. 

“In order to become a full-fledged crew member, you need to go through our trials.” He explained. 

        You waited for him to continue, your attention still on him. You were very good at following orders, you had been doing so your entire life. Reading social cues and understanding another’s position were all things you had been taught at a young age. It was mostly to prepare you for a valuable suitor, but you never had any intention of following through on that part. 

“The trials are three things that you should be able to get through easily.” The dark-haired male turned back around, beckoning you to follow him. You fell into step once more. He stopped outside of a door. 

“In here are your quarters. Now, before you go in, I’ll tell you about the trials. First, you need to spend a night in the holding cell below deck. Second, eating Jin’s carrot soup. It sounds innocent, but there’s always been something off about it. Third, you need to walk the plank.” 

“Walk the plank?” Your eyebrows shot up. 

         Yes, you could float in the water, even keep yourself upright, but you had never been a strong swimmer.

         “If this is your ploy to get rid of me, it won’t work, captain.” You gave him a mocking salute, before remembering your place. 

He chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you, Little miss.” You ignored the shiver that rolled down your spine. 

“Y/N.” You interrupted, getting tired of being referred to as ‘Little Miss’. 

“You earn your name here, darling.” He tilted his head and then turned around. “Meet at the jail tonight for your first trial.” He then proceeded to stride into the hallway and disappear around the corner. 

            You sighed and took a glance around the hall. It was completely silent except for the creaks and groans of the ship. You carefully opened the door. Inside, there was a desk pushed to the corner of the right wall. The left wall had a bed and on the wall farthest from you was a small round window. 

          You rushed forward and unlatched the window, letting the night air into your tiny room. You curled your fingers around the cold edge of the window, taking in a deep breath to settle your nerves. You swayed slightly, still trying to get a hang of walking on a ship. Five deep breaths later and you resigned yourself to shut the window. You quite liked the fresh air, but it was starting to get chilly.

            The morning sun had finally graced its golden hue across the shimmering ocean. The waves skipped by, nothing more than a blur as the ship sailed away from the port. You opened your small bag and organized your things. You placed the notebook and pen in the desk drawer and stored your spare change of clothes under the bed. 

           It wasn’t anything too fancy, just a summery yellow dress that you knew would come in handy as it got warmer.  There was a soft knock at the door and you would have missed it if it weren’t for you already standing near the door. 

         You pulled out a string of white lace and tied your hair up with it. Then you shoved the rest of your belongings haphazardly under the bed. 

“Hello? Is our little sea artist in there?” A voice you didn’t recognize called out to you. 

“Yes, coming!” You knocked into the bed frame, hissing and cursing under your breath.

          Being on the ship was already reversing years of properly trained manners. It wasn’t like the principles of dance and etiquette had ever really stuck in your mind anyway. You had only been on the ship known as BTS for about two hours and you had already grown attached.

         You threw open the door, nursing your smarting elbow. A man with broad shoulders and the most perfectly shaped face you had ever seen stood in the doorway. He had an eyebrow raised, his hand frozen mid knock. You cleared your throat awkwardly. 

“I’m sorry have we already met? I’m pretty bad with names.” It was a lie, but to be fair, the morning had been hectic. He just let out a laugh at your antics. 

“No, I don’t believe so. I’m Kim Seokjin, but please, just call me Jin.” He said, dipping his head. 

“Y/N.” You responded in turn and followed his gesture. 

“Nice to meet you! I’m the boatswain here on this fine ship.” He grasped your arm and dragged you above deck. “The Captain asked me to give you a tour and introduce you to our crew.” 

“Oh my god, I’m supposed to eat your soup later.” 

He seemed deeply offended and he crossed his arms. “I don’t know why that’s still on the stupid trials. I don’t add any weird ingredients, it’s just carrot!” 

           Jin was the opposite of any rumors you had heard while Jungkook hit the mark perfectly. The contrast was astonishing.

           The wind whipped around the loose strands of your hair as you stepped into the blinding sunlight. Waves flickered by, splashing harmlessly against the hull. Jin led you over to the bow of the ship where a young man was standing at a large steering wheel. He was accompanied by a shorter man and they were giggling about something. The picture was pretty adorable. 

“Hoseok!” Jin shouted over the wind, pulling you until you were right in front of them. The young man flashed a dazzling smile, handing the wheel over to the man next to him. 

“Hello! I’m Hoseok, everyone just calls me hobi, except for the Captain, but he’s a little grouchy.” The man, Hoseok, winked. You chuckled a little, Jungkook’s scowling face coming to mind. 

“That’s Jimin, he’s the cabin boy and a little shy, but he’s right up there with the best of us.” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the man behind him. 

         Hoseok had dark brown hair and chocolate eyes that put you at ease. Jimin had light blonde hair and chubby cheeks. He sent you a shy little wave that made you want to coo. 

“Alright, now get back to work, Hoseok. You can’t trust Jimin with the wheel for too long.” Jin rolled his eyes as Hoseok mumbled something under his breath. Then you were swept away to the other side of the ship. 

          A tall man wearing a loose white top and black pants stood at the railing, clearly deep in thought. Jin cleared his throat loudly, causing the man to startle. He turned around, his mouth open to scold the older man when he noticed you. 

“H-hello.” The man seemed quiet. His voice wasn’t soft-spoken, just a little timid about the words he chose. 

“Aish, snap out of it. Where’s our fearless first mate, yeah?” Jin patted his back hard, making him cough a little. 

“That’s enough! That’s enough! You just startled me.” His voice was husky and low, but not as deep as Taehyung’s. “I’m Namjoon, first mate. You must be the new little miss.” There was a look of disdain in Namjoon’s eyes. “It’s been a while since we’ve had fresh meat.” 

“Ah ha...right.” You subconsciously pulled your hair back tighter. 

“Someone should go wake up Yoongi, he’s probably still sleeping and we need more fish.” Namjoon instructed, his voice firm without a hint of the timidness displayed a few moments prior. You could see why he was the first mate. Even Jin straightened slightly in his presence. 

“Well, looks like there’s no one else around to do it.” The man beside you placed his hands on his hips, a frown was evident. “Come along, missy. You get to have the pleasure of waking him up.”

“I have a bad feeling about this.” You mumbled, following him below deck anyway. 

          You immediately wanted to go back up. Once you had experienced the freedom of standing on the deck, you couldn’t imagine electing to stay below deck for long periods of time. On another note, your parents would never allow you to sleep past 8:00 A.M. Yet another reason you were an opposite to this sleeping man. Jin took a right and stopped outside of a door. 

“I just need to wake him up?” 

“Sh!” He put a finger to his lips, then nodded frantically and pointed towards the door. 

        Then he bolted. He turned the corner, heavy footsteps pounding against the wood floorboards, a creak every now and then. 

        You sighed as you watched him go. You crossed your arms, pondering what to do. Why did no one want to wake this man up? He was probably harmless, but then again, this was the Bulletproof Boy Scouts who were known for being merciless. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of your neck stood tall. He’s standing behind me, isn’t he? 

        You turned around, halting a shriek from exiting your throat as you came face to face with a very pale man. You assumed he was Yoongi. Yoongi had very pale, bleached blonde hair and dark eyes. His face didn’t change when you met his gaze. The only sign he wasn’t a mannequin was his eyes moving to take you in. Then, his lips quirked into a smile. 

“So I see the others didn’t have the balls to wake me up and instead sent the new girl?” He scoffed. “As if that would change anything, anyway, I’m up now so whatever, you’ve done your job. Now shoo.” 

        The interaction ended so quickly you got whiplash. The door shut in your face with a loud slam. 

“Ah, it’s okay, miss, it’s a real skill to wake him up.” Jimin stood at the end of the hallway, a small smile on his face. 

“Oh no, he’s awake, just rude.” You said, emphasizing the last part. 

          You really should be more thankful, but after meeting the crew, they didn’t seem so bad and you felt yourself quickly easing into the groove of things. There was a muffled crash from inside the room and a string of curses made their way through the door. You let out a breath. 

“Anything else I need to do?” You asked, stepping closer. 

           Jimin seemed to ponder this before wildly shaking his head. His lips were pressed together and you weren’t sure if he was shy or staring at you with distaste. Considering his previous actions, you decided on the former. All the men on the ship held an intimidating presence, but Jimin felt timid. His aura was shy and withdrawn, yet he never seemed bothered by teasing. 

“I’m just the cabin boy. If you want a specific job, ask Jungk-I mean the captain.” 

“Right.” You nodded your head. Then the two of you fell silent. 

           You reflected on the men you’d met so far. Hoseok was kind with a warm face and sunny smile, you couldn’t imagine him being as vicious as people claimed. Jimin, who stood before you, had a quiet way about him, but he had the cutest gestures. Jin had a very motherly presence, warm, welcoming, and much like someone who you could depend on. Yoongi, who you’d just met, was, as you called him, rude. He seemed grumpy, a little rough around the edges, but was most likely a good guy. Taehyung was odd. He had this energetic way of conducting himself, yet his personality shifted so drastically when he spoke to Jungkook. 

            Namjoon held a look of disdain in his eyes when you introduced yourself to him. You chalked it up to him being apprehensive about suddenly have a new person on board. Jungkook was quiet and a bit of an enigma, but he always seemed to have a rage simmering just below the surface. His face floated into your mind and you had to stop yourself from blushing at the thought. Jungkook was one of the most handsome and shockingly beautiful men you had met in a long time. Which was saying a lot since you mostly spoke to nobility in your time at home. 

“Right, well,” you stuttered awkwardly. “I guess I should get going.” You brushed past him as you made your way upstairs. He didn’t move, still a little dazed it seemed. 

            The ocean air was a welcome breeze. You made your way to the nearest railing and leaned over the edge, watching the land grow farther away. The winds were in your favor. The day was clear and the sun glinted off the ocean, making it shine like a diamond. Yes, a diamond that you wanted to spend your entire life polishing and sailing over. 

“You might fall in if you lean too far over, little miss.” The unmistakable voice of the captain himself came from your right. You turned to look at him, ponytail flying around your neck as you faced away from the wind. 

“Yeah? And who says I don’t want to?” 

“The little miss has quite the sharp tongue already.” He watched you carefully, his eyes flicking over your body. 

            You knew these men had likely never worked with a woman before, but they all acted like you were the first meal they’d seen in ages. It was as if they’d never even seen a woman and that was factually untrue because Taehyung and Jungkook spoke with your mother. Though, you wouldn’t blame them for mistaking that screeching owl for some animal instead of a noblewoman. 

“Must be the effect of being around you, lover boy.” You said without thinking, then suddenly halted. He raised an eyebrow and then barked out a laugh. 

“You are a funny one, miss.” His eyes crinkled in amusement, his lips curling to show off a bunny smile. You huffed a little and turned back to look at the ocean skidding by. 

“It’s beautiful out here. I thought I’d never see it.” You said after a brief pause. He just nodded, looking out over the deep cerulean blue of the sea. 

“Despite all differences, everyone on this ship shares one thing in common.” He began, taking in a sharp inhale of salty air. “We all hold a deep love for the sea.” 

             The jail door slammed shut, keys locking it into place. It was dark, damp, and cramped down in the holding rooms. They weren’t so much rooms and more like little jail cells, metal bars, and all. You groaned, trying to reason with Taehyung. 

“Taehyung, it’s so cold, could I at least have a blanket?” You pleaded. Sure, you sounded spoiled as fuck, but it was pretty chilly and you were probably going to catch a cold. 

“No can do.” He stated simply, brushing his fingers through his long dirty blonde hair. In his other hand, he swung the keys around on the ring. 

“What if the ship starts sinking, will you just let me drown?”

“The ship won’t sink.” His words did little to ease your worries. 

        Your teachers had always called you a worry wart, impulsive, and you had the habit of then freaking out when those impulsive decisions led to a bad situation. Just like now. You crossed your legs, leaning back against the wooden boards. 

“Are you going to stand there all night?”

“Nope.” Taehyung smiled, or at least you thought he did. It was dark and the candle he held was on its last legs. “When the candle runs out, we switch places.” He explained. “I have the hard job of waiting until you’re asleep.”

“Oh boo hoo, you have to talk to me.” You rolled your eyes. 

         Your tutors would be horrified if they could see you now. There was a steady drip from the ceiling, which you didn’t want to know was from, and the wall you leaned against was slightly damp from the ocean crashing against it. 

On the bright side, the ship was rocking so steadily it was quick to make you drowsy. 

“Goodnight, little miss. Tomorrow I hope to call you Y/N.” 

-

         You came to around midnight. That’s what you thought at least. The jail was pitch black and you couldn’t help the little flutter of panic that crawled up your throat. Then there was a heavy stomping up the stairs that led to the jail and another set of stomping as someone descended. A flicker of light bounced over to you. The pale face illuminated made you wish you had woken up at a different time. Yoongi didn’t seem pleased to be awake either. You warily raked your fingers through your hair. 

“What do you want?” You said, but your words lacked their usual bite. You were tired and the darkness weighing at the edges of your eye was honestly terrifying.  

“Not sure, but I know I don’t want to be here.” Was all he said before falling silent, his eyes watching you like you were prey in the dark. The lull of the ship swept you up in its arms and carried you into dreamland once more. 

-

         The next time you awoke, you assumed it was before the dawn. You were met with a snoozing Jimin, the candle hanging limply out of his hand. The wax dripped steadily onto the floor. 

“Jimin.” You reached through the bars, hand landing on his foot. He jolted awake, rubbing his eyes. 

“Oh no, I fell asleep.” He mumbled, carding his fingers through his hair. 

“It’s fine. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” You smiled sympathetically. 

         Jimin seemed like the type to rethink things a lot, to regret or feel guilt unnecessarily. You were like that in a lot of ways and in all honesty, you saw in him the woman you were trying to break out off. 

          You had been taught all your life to be a simple woman. Simple-minded, not outspoken, and certainly no self-confidence. While you never took the subliminal messaging to heart, you always knew your place in society, and sometimes you could see that messaging shining through.  

          They did this using a lot of guilt. You remembered once asking to play with the boys instead of playing tea party, but the others screamed ‘what would your mother think? Your parents work hard for the money for your pretty dresses only for you to ruin it.’. He had never cared...Your mind drifted back to your guard from a few years ago. 

“Captain will kill me, though.” Jimin took a breath and slapped his cheeks to wake up. 

“My back is so sore.” You groaned, hand going to massage your lower back. 

“The beds upstairs aren’t much better.” The man snorted. “Captain says that it’s a deterrent to slacking off. That doesn’t stop Yoongi, though.” 

You watched him carefully, a small smile on your lips. Jimin came across very meek, but he had survived for a seemingly long time, so he must be strong in some capacity. 

“Tell me about yourself, Jimin.” You kneeled next to the bars, wrapping your cold hands around the metal. 

He tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

“About...myself?” He asked. “Hm, people usually don’t ask me that.” He took a moment to think. His hand patted his non existent facial hair. You waited patiently, it wasn’t like you had anywhere to be. It was sort of calming. 

“Well, when they say you’re not the first runaway they’ve helped, they mean me.”

“You ran away too?”

“Sort of. My father always pushed me to sail the sea, to grow some chest hair.” He scoffed. “That didn’t help much, but at the time BTS was disguised as a simple merchant ship. So I took up a job working as the cabin boy under Jungk-the captain.” He straightened, patting down the front of his t-shirt. 

“I think the captain felt bad for me when he revealed what they actually were, but he didn’t expect me to want to stay. I became a runaway. You and I are both wanted people.” He smiled wistfully at you. “But it’s been years and people stopped searching for a boy from a small town. Actually, we’re going to dock at my hometown, so I’m not allowed to leave. I usually do the supply runs, but people would recognize me.” He explained. 

          You thought over his words. A runaway, huh? You and I are both wanted people. Right, you probably had a bounty on your head, but you didn’t want the journey to end so soon. 

“What is the name of the town?” 

“Krestleven.” His face revealed a pain long hidden away. Your breath halted, the town triggering your hidden memories. 

           He stood against the wall as you surveyed the crowd for a suitable guard. His eyes were as blue as the sky, as deep as the ocean itself. And you found yourself drowning. You pulled yourself from your thoughts.

“Do you miss home?”

           His eyes held a far away look. He seemed frozen, eyes moving slightly as he thought. You wished you could see how his mind worked. Then he looked you in the eyes, his face void of emotion. 

“BTS is my home now.” 

           You stretched out your limbs, releasing a sigh of relief as your bones cracked. It was nice to breathe the fresh air. Down below, you had gotten a tad seasick and nausea wasn’t the best when you were in close quarters with yourself. The day was gray, heavy clouds rolling over the sea like an omen. Hoseok and Jimin looked tense as the ship came into view of the settlement. Jungkook, who stood next to Namjoon at the side, was frowning. 

“Tell Yoongi that Jimin can’t go.”

“It’s been years, Jungkook, they won’t recognize him.” 

“We don’t know that.”

“My word is final, Namjoon.” 

             Namjoon stiffened, gave a curt nod, and strode toward the stairs that led below deck. You hesitantly took a place next to the captain. Unlike the real world, in this fantasy, you had no idea what your place was. You didn’t know what boundaries could be crossed, but one night on the open sea had already opened so many doors for you. The captain barely registered your presence.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked. 

“Well enough.” He said, but the dark circles under his eyes said otherwise. 

You didn’t pry, simply nodding and turning back to watching the land come back into view. 

“I can go.” You stated. His eyes turned to watch the side of your face, but you seemed serious. 

“And why should I let you do that?”

“I’ve actually...I’ve been to Krestleven before.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, we get a lot of our guards from there.” You shrugged. “I picked out a guard a while ago, a personal guard.” You bit your lip. “But he died one night, protecting me, so I tried to avoid going back.” 

             You remembered the screaming, the crying. Days you spent inside, remembering his touch. So you swore to never love again, or that the next person you loved would truly be the one. You could only afford yourself one heartbreak and you planned on throwing yourself deep into it if you were to ever fall in love again. Jungkook seemed to read you well, because he remained silent. He didn’t comment on the noticeable shift in your aura, the slightest tension in your shoulders. 

“You don’t have to go.” He said after a while, his hand suddenly coming up to rest on your shoulder and you tried not to notice the wince on his face when his fingers accidentally brushed the open skin of your neck. It was a touching gesture, the proximity seemingly intimate. You felt your heart flutter, but you pushed it away. 

“No, I want to go.” 

            Krestleven was as beautiful as you remembered it. Despite the cloudy sky, the sea was calm. The mountains in the distance towered over the cold town and all the houses were pushed together like penguins huddling for warmth. You had learned about penguins from one of your tutors. She had been a little...nutty as your mother would have said. She had been very enthusiastic about animals, but you always liked her best. 

            BTS had anchored out a little ways away and Jin took the rowboat with you and Yoongi to shore. Yoongi was quiet company, but Jin explained to you that it was in his nature. A man of few words. He had said. This had earned a glare from the shorter man. 

            Yoongi, being the striker, had extensive knowledge on the plant and marine life in the surrounding area. He claimed he needed to pick up some supplies in the town and then he’d be all set for the next voyage across the sea. 

              Stepping foot onto land was an odd experience after just gaining your sea legs. Your legs wobbled and you almost fell, almost. Yoongi, surprisingly, held out a hand to steady you, but you refused it. He raised an eyebrow, but then just dropped his hand and placed his hands behind his back. 

“You two better behave!” Jin called, crossing his arms. He had to stay and watch the rowboat while you were gone. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.” You joked. 

             You decided to wear your yellow sundress today. The weather might not be perfect, but you’d fit in more with the crowd if you dressed like a ‘lady’. Here on land, you had to conform. You had to act like a lady and wear pretty dresses to appease the male eye. 

“Over here.” He said gruffly, slipping into the crowd, and you found yourself chasing after him. 

             He was taller than you, but still shorter than most men so you were having trouble seeing him in the crowd. The market was crowded as people tried to get the first batch of goods from each vendor. Low stalls held vendors of all kinds. From jewelry to fish and fine art. 

            You caught a glimpse of his blonde hair every now and then as he easily wove through the crowd. You finally caught up to him at a bait and tackle store. The place had the putrid smell of fish and salt. You scrunched up your nose at the intoxicating scent. 

“Hey, I’m just going to wait outside.” You poked his arm and he gave you a stiff nod of acknowledgement.

          You went to stand outside, enjoying watching the people rush by you. Everyone was in a hurry to be somewhere, but you weren’t. You were completely calm. 

          It all shattered when you spotted a familiar bar across the way. You could still see him leaning against the side, his arms crossed around his chest. You wanted to drown in the depths of his eyes again. You could have sworn you saw him, a twinkle in his eyes as he beckoned you closer. But before you could take the first step, the crowd rushed by and he was gone, just like the wind. 

            You rubbed your eyes, cursing. Now is not the time to be seeing ghosts. There was still that twinge of regret, of melancholy. I should have run away with him the first time he offered. Suddenly, someone bumped into you, flinging you into the rush of traffic. Your breath quickened as you found yourself pushed farther away. You planted your feet into the ground after a while, forcing the crowd to part around you. 

“Y/N?” You whipped around to see a familiar face. It’s the soldier. What did you say? Sorry for kicking you in the balls? Shit, wait, he’s probably here to take you in. So of course you bolted. 

“Y/N! Come back! You’re mother,” He squeezed past the people, huffing out words between breaths as you fled. “Is really,” He reached out for you. “Worried.” He finished finally, his hand grasping your arm tightly. You spun around. 

“What’s your name, soldier?” You said fiercely, your tone like a commander to quell your shaking legs. 

“Myung-Suk.” He answered quickly, dropping your arm like he’d been burned. 

“Good, I’ll remember that.” You narrowed your eyes, trying not to give away the trembling of your hands and the fear in your heart. With freedom comes fear. And suddenly you weren’t so sure you wanted to live life on the run. Wouldn’t that get exhausting? To always have your guard up? 

“Is there a problem?” Yoongi’s low drawl interrupted your thoughts. 

          Myung-Suk eyed the shorter man warily before shaking his head quickly. He backed off and ran. You turned and grabbed Yoongi’s arm, pulling him towards the docks. 

“What’s the rush?” He quirked an eyebrow, but you ignored him. 

          Your breath was labored as you tried to control the panic flooding your system. He dug his heels in, effectively stopping you. Your chest rose and fell, eyes darting from the dock to Yoongi to the market. You were getting paranoid and you swore you kept seeing figures watching you. You swore you kept seeing him. 

“That was Myung-Suk, a guard for my mother.” You said quickly. “They’re probably going to come for us next.” You continued, your breath getting shallower. 

“Woah, woah, take a deep breath.” Yoongi held your arms and took a deep breath to show you. You followed his lead and soon enough your heart rate was calming. 

“Listen, this isn’t the first time we’ve been on the run with a wanted person. We also are smart and strong enough not to get caught. Have some faith in us.” He smiled gently, gracing you with his gummy smile that put you at ease instantly. 

“Alright, I see what you mean.” You murmured. He released your arms and you shivered as the wind blew in. 

“We should probably get going.” The blonde haired man looked at the sky. “It might rain and Jin needs to start making that carrot soup for you.” His voice was gruff, as if he hadn’t used it in a while. 

          You had noticed that he seemed quiet, almost silent, when around the other crew members. You weren’t sure if there was a reason for this, as he seemed very observant and to have strong opinions of his crew; good opinions mostly, but he still never shared them. You studied his side profile as he focused on helping Jin row the boat. 

           He was handsome, quiet, a little too quiet for your tastes. But the silence was nice. 

 “I should’ve known you were going to be trouble.” Jungkook tsked as Jin set the bowl in front of you.

“Now, now, captain, she hasn’t been nearly as much trouble as Jimin was.” Jin chided the younger man. Jimin flushed a bright pink and you sent him a sympathetic look. 

“Yeah, but once again we’re all being forced to eat Jin’s carrot soup.” Taehyung sighed, picking up a spoon. 

“Yah! You don’t have to eat it, Taehyung!” Jin shouted, causing the table to ripple with laughter. Taehyung’s ears burned as Jin continued the rant. 

“Sheesh okay okay I’ll eat it.” Taehyung groaned and took a large spoonful to placate the older man. The others just pushed it around, their gazes moving to you, then Jin, then the soup. 

         You stared at the bowl before you. It looked harmless; a simple chicken broth and carrots floating around. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. 

“What did you put in here?” You asked. 

“Nothing!” Jin cried, taking a big spoonful of soup and then coughing loudly. You turned back to the concoction. The room held their breath when you took a sip. 

“Well?” Jungkook’s lips were twitching into a small smile. 

        It tasted earthy and the carrots added a weird texture. You moved it around your mouth before swallowing. 

“Oh, it’s not too bad-” You started and then it hit you. 

It felt like your mouth was on fire. You gagged, coughing and taking a huge gulp of water. 

“Jin! What the hell did you put in here?!” You choked, fanning your reddening face. Jin huffed and looked away. 

“I didn’t put anything in there.” He crossed his arms like a child. 

“You obviously did! My mouth is on fire.” You gasped, finishing the water. 

          The crew chuckled at your red face. Namjoon, despite having acted so cold to you previously, let a smile slip onto his face. He had dimples that you thought were quite cute. You could feel the captain’s stare piercing your profile so you turned to face him, patting your cheeks in an attempt to cool them down. He had an odd look on his face, his eyes bouncing between you and Namjoon. Then he casually stood. 

“Well, since that is over, I’ll see you nice and early for the last trial.” Jungkook dipped his head and promptly left the room. 

        You pressed your lips together, eyes trailing as he walked away. The group tensed as the door to the galley shut loudly. Then Taehyung started choking on his soup and the atmosphere returned to normal. 

         It was too early to be dragged out of bed and all your limbs were sore from the hard bed in your quarters. The chilly wind made your hair hit your face like a whip. The clouds were still dark and the waves looked choppy. You leaned over the railing. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You called over your shoulder. Jin peered over the side. 

“Yeah, it’ll be a little chilly but I’m sure it’s fine.” He shouted back. 

         Jungkook was holding up a map and pointing out into the distance while muttering something to Namjoon. The first mate nodded, paying close attention to his counterpart. 

“Jin, this might not be the right time to say it but-”

“Little lady, are you ready?” Jungkook barked, his boots thumping loudly against the boards. The words ‘I can’t actually swim very well’ died on your lips. 

        The captain was wearing a loose black top and tight black pants. He wore a black coat that fell to his ankles with golden buttons lining the sides. On his head was a velvet black hate that was embroidered with gold stitching. You caught yourself staring and glanced away. 

“Uh...yeah.” You said quietly, giving a slight nod of your head. 

      He scooted you towards the plank. 

“I said, are you ready?” His voice was loud against the wind. 

“Yes!” You shouted. 

“Louder.” He commanded. 

“Yes, I am, Captain!” You turned to face him, shouting with all your might.

         It sounded more like a scream and oh, how you wanted to scream. You wanted to scream at him to stop calling you little miss. You wanted to scream about your engagement, you wanted to scream until you couldn’t any longer.

         As the wind swept away the words on your lips, there was a freedom to screaming and no one being around to hear. There was a freedom in knowing your loudest thoughts could still be yours and only yours. You took a step back and then hesitated, turning to see the drop below. 

“Then go.” His voice was suddenly low in your ear and you knew he was right behind you. 

“I don’t know-”

        Then there was a hard shove on your back and you lost your footing. 

         You were falling, the wind whipping your hair out of its ponytail, obscuring your vision. All you could see were the faces of your crew members peering at you from the railing, but Jungkook’s smirk was imprinted in your mind. 

           The world rotated as you twisted in the air. Streaks of gray and inky blue. You gasped in a breath, only to lose it as you hit the water. The splash was tiny compared to the unrest of the sea. 

            You could feel yourself getting lost, sinking deeper, the cold seeping into your bones. You could be at peace, resting here. Who knew that such a simple thing, such as stepping off a plank, could give you such a catharsis. No, you need to go back up, breathe, and live. It was a soft hum in the back of your mind, growing bigger as you sunk deeper.

            Then your eyes flew open to see a figure jumping into the water, their dark shadow passing over you. Only then did you want something to live for; for the adventures you were yet to have, for the people you had yet to meet. The shadow reached out for you and pulled you up, yanking you to the surface faster than you thought possible. You gasped for air, breaking the surface. 

The captain’s furious face met your blurry vision. “You idiot, why didn’t you say you couldn’t swim?” 

-

“Why isn’t she resurfacing?” Jungkook gripped the railing.

          A few more moments passed and the crew looked at each other, worry evident. He was angry. Angry you didn’t tell him you couldn’t swim, angry he pushed you, angry he didn’t understand your limits. 

        You had looked so afraid in the last few moments. And he wasn’t one to usually care about pushing too far beyond limits or to really care about anyone. His crew came first and he couldn’t understand if you were a part of that crew yet. Someone inside, he considered you a part of the crew, but you still needed to do the trials, it was tradition. He was frustrated. Why am I feeling this way for some stuck up noble girl?

         Scowling, he shrugged off his coat and rolled up his sleeves, revealing his strong forearms. He threw his coat over Jin’s shoulder, who was still watching the water with worry. The man jumped at the sudden action.

“Captain what are you-CAPTAIN!” Jin rushed forward to see Jungkook clasp his hands above his head and dive right into the frigid waters. 

Taglist: @lovelyseomin​ 

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[deniigi]

@puffins-studio is my Selkie Verse enabler.

We were chatting about where Mike would fit in the Selkie Verse and then this AU of an AU happened lol

Title: twin hearts twin coats

Summary: Mike’s an unruly little seal who wants nothing more than to give Jack high blood pressure and he is on a crusade not to make a single friend in Ireland. Unless they’re Matty’s friends. In which case, he needs to steal them.

Context: Matt and Mike are born as rare twin seal pups. This bit assumes that Mike was there for all of Whispering Seas but then fades out of view for a bit as he does his own thing until Matt gets his coat back.

-------

For as long as the two been walking, Jack had been missing a twin.

Usually, it was Mike.

Usually, Mike was trying to sink his sharp little teeth into something he knew Dad did not want him too.

Usually, whatever he was trying to swallow whole would result in a call to poison control and Jack would be on the line for half an hour, reading through ingredients with a patient but stern woman while Mike beamed up at him, proud of his latest accomplishments.

After Matt’s year of hell with foster care, however, Mike had been traumatized. And had taken to keeping Matt within sight at all times.

You would have thought that that would have prevented Mike from being the missing twin these days.

But no.

No, now Jack wasn’t missing one twin.

He was missing two.

Constantly.

Both of his children were un-findable at practically all times.

Grace did not have these problem with the boys. Grace simply made a sound in her throat that Mike called back to immediately, regardless of where he was.

Jack did not have this power.

Over Mike, anyways. Jack had more power over Matty because Matty had a deep-ingrained instinct to only want Daddy when he was upset. But that shit didn’t exactly have range, now did it?

Grace told him he should simply learn how to make the throat-noise, which was easy for her to say: as if Jack could make seal noises.

Jack could barely speak a form of English that folks around here understood. He wasn’t makin’ any damn seal noises. He’d just figure out how to find his kids, thanks.

He was good at it, anyways.

His boys were eight.

They were on the way to being geniuses and criminal masterminds, but they were not there yet, so Jack had a good 76% chance of finding them in the first place he looked.

The bathtub.

He always looked in the bathtub. And, like he said, 76% of the time, there they were. Both of them. Looking guilty as hell—big liquid seal eyes or not.

Matty usually got quiet and scared of punishment around then and would make sad tiny seal noises at Jack and let himself be hauled out of the water and rubbed down with a towel.

Matty was the good twin.

The extremely traumatized twin. Jack didn’t like to think too much about how compliant he became in the face of a stern tone. It was enough that he was home again and that he was healing. Slowly. Very shyly.

It was enough. Matty was allowed to be a little fragile.

Now Michael had no shame and, true to character over the last eight years, refused to feel anything about his disobedience but ‘caught.’

Jack loved Mikey, the little shit, with his whole heart, but that big smile and those baby blues did not work on him anymore.

Up you go, monster-child. And into towel-hell—yeah, yeah, whine all you want. Look how nicely your brother did it.

As soon as towel-hell was over, Mike went tearing out of the bathroom, turning back only to hiss at Jack and then run into the door. Jack watched him vanish out of sight and then sighed. Matty pawed at his side, making those little throat-sounds.

“You’re okay, baby,” Jack said. “No one’s in trouble.”

Matt clung to him and hid his face in Jack’s belly.

Really, he was the one who should have been trouble. He was the one who Jack should have been chasing after to grab the hand of—to be keeping a constant vigilance over to prevent him from falling off cliffs and getting too far out into the surf.

But no.

That would be Mike.

That would always be Mike.

A pot banged and clattered in the kitchen.

Matt covered his ears and made even more urgent sad chirps.

Jack sighed harder.

“Come on, let’s go make lunch before your brother destroys the whole lighthouse,” he said.

 ----

 Matty had Foggy and thank fuck he had Foggy because that gave Jack time to go pry Michael out of whatever deathtrap he threw himself into after school.

Jack didn’t understand what this kid wanted from all the dark places he crawled into.

Was it adventure?

Was it the bugs?

Was he trying to fish?

Mike was more seal-like than Matt. Grace noted this with approval. He jumped into the water and swam deep and ate fish whole and let Mags groom him with minimal fuss while Matt wailed and whined like all those things were a death sentence.

He was simply more human, Grace said. The seal behavior didn’t come as naturally to him, so he was resistant.

Jack thought it was more like Matty had enough sense in him to not want to be suffocated by pelts and people prodding and prodding and dragging his fuzzy little coat this way and that.

Matty was a sensible child.

Foggy was slightly less sensible, but he had the right spirit. He was a good friend for Matty.

Mikey refused to make friends.

“They’re boring and human,” he told Jack. “I want a friend with more style.”

Mikey was a New Yorker through and fuckin’ through and he talked like a fuckin’ Newsie no matter how hard Jack tried to get him to imitate his mama’s cadence.

That accent would serve him no decent purpose when he was older, whereas something more Irish would at least make him come off as friendly. Jack knew—boy, Jack knew.

“Why don’t you try making friends with Foggy, too?” Jack offered, once the Trouble Twin had been dumped in the boat. Mike popped up and immediately tried to jump ship. Jack pushed the boat further away from the dock with his foot and got a face of pure betrayal.

“I don’t want a friend like him,” Mike snapped. “He’s gooey. I ain’t got time for some fruit snack.”

For fuck’s sake, child.

“Just because Foggy doesn’t wanna steal footballs with you, doesn’t mean he’s not a good friend,” Jack said. “He don’t like the church, Mikey. It’s not you, it’s the church, son. I told you this a thousand times.”

“If he’s scared of the church, he’s gonna be scared of shenanigans, Dad,” Mike said. “I live for shenanigans. No, we just ain’t compatible, Father.”

For.

Fuck’s.

Sake.

Jack wasn’t letting this one watch any more tv. No more Guys & Dolls. It was bad for everyone.

“Michael,” Jack said.

“Jonathan,” Mike shot back, haughty as hell with his arms crossed and back straight as a board.

“Son, you need to make friends,” Jack said.

“I got loads of friends at home,” Mike said. “And we’ll be home in no time. I don’t need any more ‘til then.”

Mike hated Ireland.

Jack could not understand this.

There were rocks to climb and there was sand to dig in, there were clams to bang against each other, bricks to throw, a local witch to antagonize—this was Mikey paradise. Or it should have been.

But no.

Mike had learned the word ‘cosmopolitan’ and, even though he thought it meant ‘good enough to be in a magazine,’ he’d declared Ireland not that and had set out on a crusade against being happy with it.

Grace said he was too much of a city boy was all. She said that he’d realize after some time that he was lonely and he’d do what he’d always do, which was charm half the girls at his school and become a popular kid within days.

It had been months now, though, and Mikey was still refusing to budge.

It was exhausting.

“Boy, you’re givin’ me heartburn,” Jack told him.

“Well, you’re givin’ me Lupus,” Mike said.

God.

No more House either.

 ---

 Matty came home around four thirty, which Jack could tell made Mike green with jealousy. Mike wanted to stay out like him, but he didn’t want to be associated with Foggy or his sister.

They weren’t cool enough, apparently. Or tough enough.

Jack didn’t know what that meant. Foggy had helped them relocate Mike’s brother. That was plenty bad-ass to Jack, but what the fuck did he know about kids?

Clearly nothing, since Mike had outsmarted him again and somehow managed to watch a whole three Emergency Vets reruns while he wasn’t looking.

This child wanted to give himself nightmares.

“What did you and Foggy do, hm?” Mike nagged as Matt struggled with his shoelaces. Matt sat down to go at them better and Mike flopped down next to him.

“Hm?” he pressed.

“Made homes for ants,” Matt said. “They live in hills. So we made some for them. Put leaves on top to make sure they stay dry ‘nd stuff, you know?”

No. Mike did not know.

“Ants bite you,” Mike said.

“Only if you’re mean,” Matt said.

“No, they got grains of sand for brains,” Mike said. “They’ll bite you.”

“Well, they got a home now, bitey or no,” Matt said.

“Hey, let’s make a cave—”

“I want a snack.”

“Cave then snack.”

Matt tried to work through that order of events and Jack sighed before he agreed.

“Boys,” he said. “Close the front door. It’s gonna storm. No caves for now.”

Mike turned back to him mutinously.

 ---

 After an hour of shooing the babes away from windows and then telling them that it was time to settle down and do indoor activities or listen to a book on tape, the house had gotten quiet.

That was trouble.

Jack put a lid on the pot on the stove and began the Hunt.

The kids were not in the tub. They were in their room.

They’d made a blanket fort.

It wasn’t a good one—they didn’t have that many blankets, but they had some pillows and Mike had a flashlight. They’d cuddled up in the middle of the room with a pile of pillows from the couch and the spare duvet and were nestled up against each other in their coats.

Mike hissed when Jack parted the sheet curtain they’d gerry-rigged around the perimeter of the nest. Matty turned his way and made a happy throat-sound.

“You two getting into trouble?” Jack asked, folding himself into a pretzel to join them on the duvet. Matt immediately wriggled up to climb into his lap, which Mike scowled at.

Mike was of the opinion that this was ‘baby’ behavior. He was highly concerned that his sibling was still exhibiting it, as if Mike didn’t immediately bury himself into Grace’s side when she came up to take the two of them out for a swim.

Jack pulled Matt into his arms more comfortably and reached over to snag his coat to drop over him.

“Are we telling ghost stories?” he asked the boys.

Matt said yes. Mike told him they weren’t ‘doin’ nothin’’ which meant ‘yes, I am trying to give my brother dreams about banshees again and your presence is destroying all of my hopes and life goals.’

“I have a ghost story,” Jack told them.

“Lana’s not dead, Dad,” Mike said. “You can’t tell ghost stories about ladies who aren’t dead.”

“You ain’t gotta be dead to haunt stuff, son,” Jack told him. “Lana will haunt the blue apartment long after we’re all gone.”

“Nuh-uh,” Mike said. “Me and Matty are gonna live forever. Selkies live for hundreds of years.”

Oh really, now?

“Come here, oh ancient one, then,” Jack said, holding out a hand. “Come indulge a poor, aging human.”

Mike huffed but allowed himself and his coat to be dragged over to join Matty in Jack’s lap.

“A long, long time ago,” Jack told them, “There was a guy trying to raise two squirmy little kids.”

Mike rolled his eyes by rolling his whole head into Matt’s so that he’d giggle.

“Was he a boxer, Dad?” Mike asked.

No, oldest child.

He was a lighthouseman.

Mike sighed harder than ever.

Damn, everyone’s a critic, huh?

“One day, the lighthouseman’s two squirmy kids went out to play on the beach in a storm,” Jack said. “They transformed into seals. But the sea was strong and the tide rose high and it swept them away from shore. They went all the way out to sea, far from their home. And they were lost and scared. But soon they decided that being scared wasn’t any help anymore, and they picked a direction to swim for shore. They went from island to island, asking the people there if they’d seen the lighthouseman because the kids were worried you know? Because their old man was just human, unlike them, and the sea back home had been so strong and the tide so high that it might have crashed against the lighthouse and taken the lighthouseman away. But no one had even heard of a such a guy.”

Matt dug fingers into his sleeve and made a soft distressed sound.

“One day,” Jack said, kissing the top of his head. “The kids came across a load of swans in the middle of the ocean. So they asked the swans, ‘have you seen our dad? He’s kinda tall with a busted up nose.’ And they said, ‘no, we lost our dad, too. Maybe we can help each other find them?’”

“Did they?” Mike asked reluctantly.

“Of course they did,” Jack said. “The swans were secretly the children of Lir. They knew what it was like to be separated from their father, but, unlike those kids, they knew their father wouldn’t recognize them. So they flew up and the kids swam after them all the way back to Ireland, so that they wouldn’t end up like the Children of Lir, waiting hundreds of years for their dad to bring them home.”

Matt did not like this story.

Matt had had plenty of bird people in his life. He wanted no more. He wrapped himself around Jack’s neck and made grumpy sounds to indicate that he was done with this whole story business.

Mike’s little brow stayed furrowed.

“You’d recognize us right away,” he said. “We wouldn’t be like the Children of Lir, Dad, first off, ‘cause we wouldn’t ever leave you by yourself. Second off, because Mum’s carryin’ your soul for forever, so even when you’re old and dead, we’ll still have ya. And third off, ‘cause you’re a hero. We could find you just by sniffin’.”

Matt made louder grumpy noises to remind everyone that he didn’t like this conversation.

Jack hummed and rubbed Matt’s back and used the other hand to smooth down Mike’s hair.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said. “But that don’t mean that I don’t miss you guys while you’re paddlin’ around in the sea without me.”

“TUNA,” Matt snapped.

Jack was startled.

“Tuna?” he asked.

“I’m hungry,” Matt said. “Let’s eat tuna.”

“You hate tuna,” Mike reminded him. “I’m the one who likes tuna.”

“Well I hate tuna less than I hate stories,” Matt snapped. “So I wanna eat tuna.”

Ah.

Bless him.

Okay, tuna it was.

 ---

 Grace told Jack to stop telling the kids that he was going to die. She said it was making them cry out in the sea. She reminded him that she didn’t take the damn kids to the sea to cry. She took them to fish. And they were still both shit at fishing.

Jack apologized.

But he didn’t feel too bad.

The fae in the woods told him he didn’t have too much longer in human form. He didn’t want the boys to be surprised.

Lord knew that they’d already been surprised enough over the last few years.

 ---

 Mike decided that he wanted to learn how to sail and, in lieu of him finding children his age to play with, Jack set to teaching him how to row. It was a good start. Grace approved. She even went out and found a little tub with a set of oars for Mike to play around in.

He immediately nearly drowned by taking it out into the bay.

Jack set him on the other side of the sandbar by the lighthouse and he did better. He was closer to where Matt and Foggy liked to play too, so if something went wrong again, the other kids would start shouting.

After a whole afternoon of no shouting, Jack went out to collect the munchkins and found Foggy out in the bay chatting with Mike with hands on the edge of the tub.

That was surprising.

What was not was the fact that Matt and Candace were digging a fuckin’ hole in the sand. Again.

Foggy must have gotten bored of them.

Jack watched as Mike took ahold of his wrist and heaved hard and brought Fogs over the end of the little tub. They both tumbled down into it.

Then Foggy popped up and leapt right back out into the water. Mike nearly followed him, shaking his oar after him.

Jack couldn’t help but snicker. He left them to it for another ten minutes before calling the boys in.

 ---

 It was hilarious.

It was adorable.

It was the cutest fucking thing Jack had ever heard, indignant as Matty was, standing on his toes, all puffed up and agitated.

“Mikey’s got a crush on Foggy and he won’t clear off,” he’d told Jack.

He didn’t appreciate Jack’s giggling.

“Foggy’s my friend,” Matt told him. “Mike can play with Candace.”

Uh-huh.

Sure, son. That was gonna go down real well.

“Daddy.”

Jack forced himself to stop laughing. He cleared his throat.

“That’s not how these things work, bud,” he said. “Why don’t you talk it over with Mikey?”

“I did,” Matt said. “An’ he told me to bug off.”

Ah, you poor child.

That was older brothers for you. Jack knew the feeling intimately.

“He’s rude,” Matt complained. “An’ he’s stealin’ my friends. He’s already stolen my identity, Dad. Tell him to stop.”

It would never not be funny that these kids thought that people confused them out of spite.

“You can both be friends with Foggy,” Jack told him. “Unless Foggy only wants to be friends with one of you.”

Matt puffed up and then deflated.

“Mikey’s got loads of friends at home,” he mumbled. “Why do I gotta share my one friend when he doesn’t share any of his?”

Oh, baby. No, it wasn’t like that.

It was just that Mike was outgoing, that was all. He just had that special knack for being around people. Jack didn’t know where he’d gotten it from, both he and Grace were not people-people. Matty was the natural extension of their mutual social awkwardness. Mike was more like Jack’s own brothers, actually. Smooth, suave, and oh-so likable.

Dangerous shit, that was.

He would be unstoppable after 14 years old.

“Here, come here, you,” Jack said. “Having friends isn’t about the number of ‘em. It’s about having fun. You have fun with your brother all the time, don’t you? And Foggy brings Candace along with you two all the time. Why don’t you guys try to be friends as a group of four, huh?”

Matt didn’t love this idea, but he relented.

“Only if Mike stops tryin’ to be a pirate,” he said. “He keeps hittin’ me with that stick.”

Ah. Okay. Well, that Jack could do something about.

 ---

 “But I am a pirate, Dad. I’m stealin’ Matty’s friends.”

For.

Fuck’s.

Sake.

Jack could not with this boy. He simply could not.

“Son,” he said. Then paused.

No. Mike wouldn’t hear anything he said.

This was a job for Grace.

 ---

 “Is that what Jesus would do?” Grace snapped.

Mike sulked.

“No, Mum,” he groaned.

“Then why’re you doing it to your brother?” Grace demanded.

“Cain didn’t like his brother,” Mike mumbled.

“Michael. You are named for a saint.”

Mike groaned with his whole body somehow.

“I’m sorry God,” he said.

Grace vibrated.

Jack didn’t know who to protect here.

“I just wanna be a pirate,” Mike explained. “And pirates steal things. They gotta, Mum. It’s how they make a livin’.”

Grace’s eyes narrowed.

 ---

 Grace did this occasionally.

She kidnapped one of the twins for some personal time with them. Jack was grateful for it because that twin was usually Mike and he usually came back looking guilty as hell.

It wasn’t that Jack didn’t love his kid. It was just that Mike didn’t really show much regard for his authority.

Affection? Oh, sure. Both boys wanted nothing more than to show Jack everything they’d ever done or made. They wanted to be cuddled and tossed around and tickled. It had been ages before they understood why Dad didn’t come out swimming with them anymore—they couldn’t show him their cool seal tricks that way.

But authority? For Mike?

Nope. This kid was on the path towards trouble, and he’d probably already be there if his mama didn’t routinely take him under her flipper and remind him that he needed to think about other peoples’ feelings.

Matty, of course, had decided early on that personal time with Mum was a punishment, however.

When Jack came home without Mike, in full awareness that Mags was probably just gonna throw him in the water and tire him out until he was pliable and open to suggestion, Matt sniffed all around him and came up in tears.

It took a good ten minutes to convince him that Mike would be coming home.

What helped were some cheerios and letting Matt smell the tuna that was to go into the tuna salad sandwich that his brother was currently obsessed with. Jack reminded him that he wouldn’t be making two different kinds of sandwiches for dinner if there wasn’t gonna be someone there to eat them.

Matt played with the dry cheerios in the bowl Jack had given him and quietly asked him if Mike would be mad if he learned that Matty wanted to be a human hero like Jack.

Jack’s heart melted.

Grace had told him that Matt had told her this. But Matty hadn’t said it to him directly and he sure as hell hadn’t told Mike.

That was fair—the second bit. Mike, like most other selkies, tended to see humans as replaceable things. Kinda boring. Kinda selfish. Not overly worth his investment unless they were investing in him.

Jack thought that Mike might change his tune if he realized that his twin thought humans were kind of grand.

Or maybe not. Who knew what Mike would think.

“I think that if you tell him, he might be really confused for a while,” Jack said.

Matt dropped his handful of cereal back into the bowl and squirmed all the way back in the chair.

“’M not hungry,” he said.

Aw.

It’s okay, little one. Things will get easier with time.

 ---

 Objectively speaking, it wasn’t long after that that Jack died.

It was what it was.

His kids were ten. They were safe. Mags tried to wrangle them.

Jack went to sleep.

Five years, he slept.

He woke up to Matty having a breakdown and Mike nowhere to be found and it was another three years before Jack managed to have enough awareness and mobility in the afterlife to get both of them to not fuckin’ do that shit.

Then it was another four years before Mike reappeared out of thin air and announced he was stayin’ in the city and where the fuck was his evil twin, which coincided with Matt showing back up from orientation at law school to shriek at Jack that Foggy was there! Foggy was back! Foggy was studying law with him and staying in his dorm and OH MY GOD, DAD, IT’S FOGGY.

Kid was love-fucking-sick.

Grace told him to watch his mouth. Matty didn’t know yet. They needed to let him figure it out on his own.

Jack thought that it had already taken Matty a good 16 years to realize that the reason he hated his brother crushing on Fogs was because he was crushing on Fogs. He was not the most self-aware of people. He deserved a little help.

Grace told him that he would speak to their younger son only upon pain of being stuffed into her flute.

Jack did not like the flute.

So he kept mum. But only in Matt’s presence.

This did not include Mike’s presence. Because Mike had other problems which looked like him trying to join a local mob, deciding that they weren’t cool enough for him, and then bouncing off to go join a pod of selkies, making enemies of all of the guys in it and then coming back to New York from a trip to Florida in the arms of a pixie who was actively trying to kill him in his sleep.

Mike was, predictably, a hot mess.

And he loved it.

God help this boy. He required all of Jack’s energy.

“Michael,” Jack reminded him exhaustedly when he stopped in the street as a gal with butterfly wings glanced over her shoulder at him. “You’ve got one at home and she’s mad enough to spit.”

“Uh-huh,” Mike said without listening.

This fucking kid.

“Hey, pops, why don’t you go be someone else’s angel for like, twenty seconds over there, huh?”

Hm. No, you’re right, what a great idea—AHAHA. No. Nice try. Jack wasn’t born yesterday.

It was his new purpose in death trying to keep this one on the straight and narrow. He’d been assigned the mission by a nun. It was now a holy quest.

“You can’t say that about everything Mom tells you to do,” Mike scowled.

He did not, however, pursue Ms. Butterfly wings.

“Where’s Matty, anyways? None of you will tell me where Matty is,” Mike pouted.

Matty was, according to Grace, being heartsick because Foggy had gone home for the holidays.

“Mass,” Jack said.

Mike rolled his eyes.

“I’m not goin’,” he said. “I’ve got a job, Dad. Tell Matt to get one, too.”

A job, huh?

What a job. Sluggin’ people on behalf of other humans.

“I can feel your disappointment and—oh, wait? It’s my life? I can do what I want? I am allowed to sustain myself with offerings however they come? Oh my god, Father. What sense you speak. You’ve turned over a new leaf, truly.”

This?

This was a Grace problem.

 ---

 Jack didn’t expect Matt to be the one who came home with a secret violent identity.

Then he didn’t expect Mike to be the one to break down Matt’s door and stand over him and ask him what the fuck he was thinking.

Then he didn’t expect Mike to be the one to bodily drag Matt out to sea in an attempt to bring him back to his roots.

Mike nearly drowned his brother.

It was certainly one way to get everyone back on the same page. Jack wasn’t about to lie and say it was the best way, but it was definitely a way.

Mike came to church and accused him and Grace of keeping Matt’s secrets from him. Not just the devil, but the coat situation and Foggy.

Mike was justifiably upset, but Grace pointed out that Mike’s current approach to humanity did not exactly jive with his brother’s existence, and not even Mike could argue with that. Although he did try. Let it be known that he tried.

He kept cutting himself off though, saying that Matt was different from other humans. Matt wasn’t like them. He was better than them. Which was exactly what Matt took issue with. And unfortunately for Mike, his brother had supersenses, and that included super hearing.

Grace asked Jack out to go calm Matty down.

He was pretty upset.

He tucked himself into Jack when Jack got to his hiding place on the roof of his loft and asked him why Jack had told Mike about the coat to begin with.

But Jack hadn’t told Mike about the coat. No one had. Mike found out these things on his own. He was clever like that.

“He’s always treated me different,” Matt said. “I thought it was ‘cause I’m blind, but it’s always been ‘cause I’m more human, hasn’t it?”

Horrible things to hear your kids say to each other.

Also untrue.

“Mike doesn’t treat you different because you’re blind or you’re human, bud,” Jack told him. “He treats you different because you’re his brother and he’s protective of you. That’s where this is coming from. It’s nothing you did.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Matt said.

Well, no.

It probably didn’t.

 ---

 Mike came around. And he came around by encountering the Hell’s Beast that little baby Franklin Nelson had become.

Foggy, to put it kindly, was one hell of a selkie.

He was huge, to start with. He’d grown from a chubby, pale little glow worm to a good three hundred pounds of enormous, white seal. He was staunchly traditional, if flexible, in his dealings with other fae, and he had zero patience for humanity while somehow acting entirely in their favor.

Foggy was a selkie in a textbook somewhere. He had to be. He was paranoid and untrusting of humans, but he would throw himself in the line of fire to protect anyone who he dealt with. And Mike, who’s relationship with humans tended to be more on the Trickster spectrum than the whole Noble Being one was a smidge intimidated.

At first.

Then he was violently jealous.

And let’s just play this record once more, shall we? Take it from the top.

He nagged Matt to bits, asking him to give up his bond with Fogs and to entrust his human soul to Mike.

We’re twins, Mike argued, it’s only right that I guard your soul.

Matt told him he’d lived his mortal life in plenty of dumpsters, thanks. He was looking for a change in the afterlife.

Mike told him he’d get him the nicest dumpster blood money could buy.

Matt told him to try to take the question to Fogs and see what would happen.

Mike took that to heart.

Grace asked Jack what they’d done wrong to end up with a stubborn devil-child and a vulture selkie.

Jack thought it was probably the tugboat.

Foggy, however, thought that it was the fact that Mike had zero impulse control, manners that only came out when he didn’t have the upper hand in a situation, no respect for boundaries, and shit fashion sense—not to mention a lack of interest in fae hierarchies, a fondness for antagonizing people, and, in Foggy’s opinion, a brain that didn’t properly register pain chemicals or empathy.

He told Mike that Matt’s soul was his and that if he wanted, he could fight him for it and Mike decided that that was a vow good enough for his little brother.

He switched tact and began trying to court Foggy instead and, to his credit, it sure as hell de-escalated the situation.

 ---

 Grace told Mike that Matt was going to get his coat back, but they didn’t hear from him. Jack wasn’t sure what to do, but Grace said that they didn’t have time to wait.

When they got home and Matty was trying to relearn how to swim and struggling like a zebra on a tightrope despite having both Grace and Fogs there to keep him from sinking, Mike reappeared in a pew at the church.

Jack found him and settled in next to him.

Mike asked him if Matty was okay.

He’d gotten the message only a few days ago. His hands were a little shaky when Jack smoothed his hair back and told him that he was just fine.

And not only was he fine. But he was very recognizable now. Or he should be, to Mike more than anyone else in the world.

Mike asked if Matt was still angry with him. If Foggy was still hellbent on chasing him off.

Jack thought that maybe, what Matty really needed right then wasn’t his mama or his bondmate, but his brother. His twin.

It had been a long time since Mike wanted a hug.

He told Jack that he was sorry for being a dick all these years.

Jack told him that he wasn’t a dick. He was fiercely independent and even if Jack didn’t always agree with him, he was still proud of him and proud of that drive and that passion.

He asked him if he was ready to go make up with his brother and Mike nodded instead of saying yes out loud.

 ---

 Matty’s new coat was white for the time being and Mike would not and could not drop that. He cooed at Matt and told him he was too fluffy to swim. Grace had to break them up before they got to neck-slamming.

But at the end of the day, Mikey was right.

Matt’s new coat was a baby’s coat. And Matt was a good 14 years out of swimming practice. His muscles had forgotten how to work as a seal. He was angry about it, which was endearing, but not especially helpful.

He explained to Mike that he’d made a deal with Fisk and Mike went dead quiet before exploding at him and once they’d mutually worked through that argument, the intensity of the swimming lessons rocketed up. Grace stood back and pulled Foggy back with her and they watched on as Mike harassed Matty back into fighting shape.

After the third night of Matt’s refresher course, Jack went to go check on them and found them piled together in their coats on Matt’s couch.

You couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended and to Jack, it felt like home.

He found threw a blanket over them both and took the time to kiss both foreheads before turning off the light and letting the purples and pinks of the billboard outside wash over them.

It was its own kind of rippling sea.

---

[naturepointstheway]

Frozen - Domestic Assassin (Crack AU) Masterpost

This is a Masterpost of all the fanfiction I’d written (all on Tumblr) based in @ultranos’ Domestic Assassin crack AU which was hilarious for a fairly good-sized group of us! And from what I”ve seen in my notifications, people are still enjoying and finding fics of mine in this AU even to this day, which is great! 

I’ve basically dug into my previous fanfiction pages and pulled them out year by year, so because it’ll be way too much work to try and arrange everything by title, I just went by year. At least Tumblr keeps the links when I copy and paste. 

Since there are so many, you’ll find them under the cut. Enjoy! 

Pre-2016

Air Mattress Prompt  

An exhausted Anna returns home from a hot night with Kristoff only to accidentally make her sister fly off the air mattress when she flops down on it for a sleep.

“Am I supposed to be alarmed by the moon tonight?” prompt 

Elsa is so exhausted she gets confused between the sun and moon apparently.

“Can we please stop fighting and talk about the koala in your room?” 

Elsa adopted a koala, much to Anna’s exasperation.

“Can you pull this fake cobweb across the door?” Halloween prompt 

Anna wants to play a prank on Elsa...

Cell Block Sniper (M - violence and strong language)

Yes. Yes. It’s a crossover. A crossover between “Cell Block Tango” song from Chicago and this AU.

“Do you realise what this means?” “That you’re a really bad shot?” 

Elsa is NOT having the best of time trying to instruct a new trainee.

Domestic Assassin AU prompt: Hans’ POV (pre-reveal) 

Hans has a visit from Elsa when he dumps Anna. 

“Don’t touch that!” (Healthcare writing prompt, Snow Sisters) 

Elsa was bound to fall out of a tree at some point and end up in hospital. Anna takes care of her. 

Elsa and Weselton prompt 

Elsa refuses to let Weselton in the door.

Eyes That Glisten 

Anna knows how to persuade Elsa to do whatever she wants. 

“God you’re such a grumpy bags in the morning aren’t you?” 

Elsa is not a happy camper after a long night where everything just goes wrong. “Holy shit. Most realistic Dementor costume ever.” Halloween prompt 

Turns out, Elsa just looks like that most of the time.

“I can’t help being a geek about my vital signs!” prompt (Elsarik) 

A crossover between another AU (Shardsverse) 

“I don’t think I should tell you what we’re dressed as.” (Halloween Prompt) 

Somebody think of the children! 

“I dropped my cookie :’(” 

Elsa cries when she drops her cookie. 

“I feel like a T-Rex” 

Anna is too lazy to just grab the goddamn stepladder and get the jam herself.

“I wish I could drive you out of my life with a sword!” (Hans and Anna, prompt) 

Anna is NOT a fan of Hans...

“Maybe you should go as an assassin. Oh wait, you already are one.” (Halloween prompt) 

Anna is a sarcastic little sister to Elsa.

“No one unfollows like Gaston!” 

Anna overhears Gaston boasting about how he unfollowed someone because of a disability. She is not happy.

Ruined Dinner Party

After an hour of waiting for her sister to come to the party, Anna finally spots her with “ketchup” all over her top. 

Part 2 of “Ruined Dinner Party”

Of course it wasn’t ketchup. Duh. Anna is NOT HAPPY.

Sleepyhead (drabble, Snow Sisters) 

Elsa, going to the kitchen for midnight munchies, spots Anna sprawled on a couch, textbooks all around her. 

“So. Many. Triangles. Help me here!” 

Anna, not being a maths-y person, gets frustrated with geometry, and Elsa offers to help. 

“So you’re going as yourself for Halloween.” Halloween prompt 

Elsa is not keen on dressing up as Halloween.

“Tell our parents my Tumblr URL and I swear I will make your death look like an accident” prompt. 

Elsa practically threatens Anna when the latter demands to explain her Tumblr URL (of course she quickly forgives her little sis.) 

“That mask is all kinds of creepy. I like it.” Halloween prompt 

Elsa practically shits herself when Anna scares her while wearing a terrifying mask. 

Things you said at 4am prompt 

Anna gets a call at 4am on her phone from Elsa, who accidentally sniped the wrong guy..

Those Poor Birds 

Elsa mistakes a pair of birds’ mating antics as fighting, much to Anna’s amusement.

“Wait, you’re yelling at a movie?” (Snow Sisters, writing prompt) 

Elsa is very confused to find that Anna’s yelling from the lounge is at a movie. Not at an invader.

“Was it really necessary to shoot my pumpkin carving?” (Halloween prompt) 

Anna is NOT happy when Elsa decides to use her pumpkin carving for shooting practice.

“What do you mean it’s a sunset…?” prompt 

Elsa wakes up only to find that it’s already after sunset, not sunrise.

“What the hell? You gave out alcoholic chocolate to trick-or-treating kids?!” (Halloween prompt) 

Anna discovers that her German chocolates had been opened by Elsa, who’d handed them out to kids. 

“Where did you leave the spare copy of that book?” (Elsarik DA!verse, prompt) 

Crossing over with another writer’s AU with her OC, Alarik. Elsa can’t find that one specific book she needs, and she’s sure Alarik has it. 

“You once asked me what I’d do if I had only one day left.” prompt 

Anna will most definitely NOT be spending that final day of her life with Hans.

“You did what?!” prompt (Elsa and Kristoff) 

Elsa does not appreciate Kristoff’s concern over her having WAY too many cats for one house.

“You mean a line segment.” prompt 

Elsa is a huge geometry nerd, even waiting in line for takeaways.

“You should go as an assassin. Oh wait. You already are one.” prompt 

Another one where Anna suggests Elsa goes as an assassin for Halloween, only to be all “oh wait, you are one.” 

2016

Accidental shooting

Elsa accidentally shoots someone she did not mean to shoot in a library’s basement. 

Amuse Me

Elsa’s having one of those blah days and Anna’s there with bad puns all ready to go.

“Bittersweet and Strange” (not based on a prompt)

Elsa explains exactly how she likes her coffee to Anna. Turns out Elsa is also a huge fan of marmite. 

“Can’t I at least take this baby koala home?”

Anna, no, you cannot take a koala home from Australia, no matter how cute it is.

Cat Gallery (not based on a prompt)

Kristoff discovers Elsa’s huge photo album of her cats. 

“Did you lose your main point…”

Anna hears something about money and bills and wait what now.

“Do nurses ever fall asleep on the night shift?”

Anna visits Elsa in hospital and inevitably someone has to wonder this. Elsa’s adorbs when she’s pouty and Anna can’t help but annoy her on this count.

Fight Me

One sister challenges another to a fun boxing game. 

“How did you get these bruises?”

A crossover with another writer’s canon OC, Alarik (”Elsarik”) where he asks how she got some bruises while on the job. 

“How many cats are in bed with you?”

Anna marvels that there are nine cats in bed with Elsa. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to have the whole packet at once.”

Do not eat a whole bag of coffee. Do not.

I Have Found My People (not based on a prompt)

Elsa has discovered that certain Scandinavian countries drink the most coffee in the world and wants to migrate there right now.

“I know you don’t want this but it’s for your own good…”

Kristoff is rightly concerned when he finds that Elsa had thirty cups of coffee in 48 hours. Do not do this at home.

“I, uh, kinda dropped it in the water.”

Elsa calls Anna to tell her there’s an emergency: she dropped her wallet in the sea and all the fish now have her personal information. 

“I want a Venusian day…”

Elsa tries to explain to Anna why she would not want to live on Venus. Anna doesn’t give a fuck. More hours in the day what’s not to love about that?

Of Cat’s Paws and Adopting Stellar Systems (not based on a prompt)

Elsa is enthralled by a photo of the Cat’s Paw Nebula she has found on the laptop. 

Of Monkeying Around and Going Ape (not based on a prompt)

Anna comes home to discover that Elsa has adopted a monkey that had been neglected by its owner. Even Anna is almost (I said, ALMOST) tempted to keep the monkey but her common sense reigns. 

“Oh so you were in my bed this whole time?” (nsfw)

Dontcha hate when you’re in the middle of coitus and your goddamn cat has to interrupt you? (Elsarik, with another Frozen writer’s (@patricia-von-arandel) OC for Elsa)

“Once we start tickling, we can’t stop!” (nsfw)

Another steamy one with an old abandoned OC of mine (Jannike), where they find themselves having a quickie while the boss is away. 

Rubbish Day (not based on a prompt)

Anna is horrified to find a rubbish bag gone and trails of what suspiciously looks like blood leading outside. Turns out some meat thrown in there leaked inside.

“The best way to get rid of your ex…”

Anna didn’t think that Hans Westerguard would ever end up on Elsa’s targets to “take care of”. Until he does.

The One Time Elsa Caught Anna “Studying” (not based on a prompt)

Anna uses the mirror in the bathroom to practice distinguishing teeth for a medical exam. Elsa suggests alternatives. 

“What is this owl doing in our bathroom?”

Of course Elsa would adopt an owl and want to keep it in the bathroom. Of course.

“Who dances in the rain anyway?”

Elsa comes home to discover Anna dancing in the rain. 

“Why is there an otter in our kitchen?”

Anna comes home to find that Elsa has “adopted” an otter from a “client”. As you do.

“Why would you wish to be at a backpackers?”

Elsa and Alarik (Shards AU, Elsarik) decide to stay at a backpackers together for some private time. 

“Yes, yes the cold doesn’t bother you…”

Anna is not impressed with Elsa standing in the snow when she has a major cold.

2017

The Blood of White Men (not based on a prompt)

As Elsa’s favourite song goes, he had it comin’ all along. 

Is the Earth Broken? (not based on a prompt)

Elsa is confused about why the day she thought it was today...actually isn’t. She convinces herself the Earth has somehow broked. 

“It won’t be high tide you said…”

Elsa needs to learn that reading yesterday’s newspaper’s high tide times is not helpful. 

Kittens on Saturn (not based on a prompt)

Elsa hopes there’s actual giant kittens on Saturn after seeing a graphic manipulation on an astronomy news site.

Of Singing Humpback Whales and Rock Trolls

Kristoff visits Elsa in hospital while Anna’s busy with other things. It...does not go as expected. Poor Kristoff. 

“Proboscis Monkeys look ridiculous…”

Anna’s exasperation at Elsa rescuing a Proboscis monkey is still not so great that she can’t help but wonder what would happen if you honked their nose. Anna NO. 

“She’s going to kill you.”

Kristoff knows his days are numbered when he spills carrot juice all over Elsa’s brand new rifle. Uh oh.

“There’s a perfectly good reason for all these kittens.”

Turns out Elsa decided to adopt some kittens left on the side of the road when they’re already over-run with cats.

“This is extreme, even for you.”

Elsa is so addicted to her coffee she’s begun pouring them into wine bottles, as you do.

2018

Elsa brings home a parrot 

Anna discovers that Elsa has “rescued” a very large, very loud parrot from one of her, ahem, “clients”.

Elsa’s Back Up Cat, Mushu 

Anna discovers one of the cats apparently reading a book, and much to her consternation, Elsa explains he’s for back up.

“Oh what a circus!” photo prompt 

Anna takes her still-bewildered-after-five-coffees sister to the circus. This may or may not turn out to be a great idea.

[corvidry]

Tell us about your gemsona

First of all, thank you for indulging me, this was unexpected.

Secondly, a cool fun fact about me is that I struggle to create anything that could be called any kind of -sona. I’m pretty indecisive when it comes to designs that are supposed to represent me. The closest I have is probably that little bird friend I draw on everything.  I did have a moonstone design that I called my gemsona for like 5 minutes but I ended up not liking it very much. The design was kinda neat but that’s about it.

But I did have some pearl OCs back in the day when I was writing this big old au. Jokes on me half that shit is canon now lol.  I’m actually in hell bc I I wrote down a ton of lore and worldbuilding stuff for that verse that I remember really well, but I wrote hardly anything about the OCs I put in that story. I don’t remember them super well which maybe means I ought to scrap and rewrite everything for the modern era.  Here is some things I remember. Sorry if it’s uninteresting as hell. 

Pearl OCs under the cut.

One (1) Big old tired looking reddish pearl

Unusually tall for a pearl. Very long. Highly desaturated color palette. Less “conventionally beautiful” than most other pearls by Homeworld standards purely because she wasn’t made against the existing standard. She is the only known pearl in existence who was made naturally and not born of artificial means, found by gems colonizing a planet that had a lot of water on the surface. White Diamond was so enamored by this strange and beautiful type of gem that she put resources toward discovering how to cultivate pearls artificially on Homeworld. Modern pearls look a little bit different from her, but the resemblance is undeniable.  This pearl goes by “Red” most of the time in my head, primarily bc she is my only reddish pearl and because I was writing with friends who were using “Nacre” as a name already. She is held in slightly higher regard than your average pearl. She has the tiniest bit more freedom than other pearls. She is also one of the few gems every single pearl ever made knows of, as her primary job is overseeing the creation and culturing of of new pearls. She takes great pride in her work and she is generally loved and revered by the pearls who were made in her image.

One edgelord troublemaker pearl who is basically a Tahetian Pearl but if you bought it from Hot Topic

jk jk she’s a pretty sincere gem but she understands the system she lives in and really only acts out in subtle ways where she is unlikely to be caught. She’s around average height for a pearl if not slightly taller and dons a monochromatic color palette. She’s fairly high contrast, mostly in that black to white spectrum. I can’t for the life of me recall what this pearl goes by, but she’s known by other pearls for being dangerous and for engaging in risky behaviors.  Well, risky by pearl standards.

I had originally written this pearl as having a relationship with our canon Crystal Gem Pearl early in their lives when they were brand new. They lived in the nursery where pearls are made waiting to be sold into service. She considered CG Pearl to be naive but found her eccentricities entertaining. One of the ways this pearl went about getting her kicks was in trying to goad CG pearl into breaking small rules with her. Rules about talking, about being too close to another, about being too social, and about being in the wrong place for a little too long, etc. Easier to do in a crowded understaffed pearl nursery than when the two of them would eventually graduate to actual service.  They got up to a decent amount of trouble even if one party was always straying toward reluctant.

Ultimately they would have a very sweet relationship and part into service to not see each other again for thousands of years. For this pearl it becomes really jarring to learn that the extremely timid, mild mannered, well behaved pearl that she knew would be the one who went on to start the rebellion against homeworld. All this while she--the notorious rule breaker--slipped easily into a life of total submission to the system.  They cross paths again by chance and she has a sort of crisis of identity when she realizes that she doesn’t know her friend anymore and neither of them turned out how she would have expected years ago. After years of falling complacent to the system, she begins seeking subtle methods of rebellion like she did years ago.

A little tiny peach/orangey pearl who is Illegal As Hell

This is a pearl who is both fortunate and unfortunate enough to live entirely outside the system that most pearls are subject to. She doesn’t have societal freedom for all the reasons every other pearl doesn’t, but she isn’t really beholden to her owner in the same way most pearls are. She and her “owner” have a strange arrangement, all things considered. This is because she is stolen and the gem she lives with isn’t exactly making her living above board. They have a sort of unspoken agreement that as long as she doesn’t turn her owner in and does what is needed to support their lifestyle, said owner does what she can to keep the pearl comfortable and largely invisible to the powers that be. This pearl may as well not exist on paper.

This pearl is extremely emotionally distant and largely doesn’t discuss her feelings, her past, or her thought process with anybody up to and including her owner. She’s extremely hard to know, even with gems she is close to.  Because of her position as an illegal pearl she has a lot of access to other gems on the edges of society who are deviant or otherwise live counter to the system.  I recall writing a bubbly love interest for her, well-groomed pearl who is extremely loved as a companion by her owner and how has a lot of freedom. It’s not that this particular pearl was any better than most people at getting the peach pearl to open up, rather, she is the kind of person who will stay interested in you even if you’re slow to open up. Because she has such a good relationship with her owner, she has a lot of insight into the unspoken aspects of peach pearl’s relationship with her totally-not-official illegal owner.

That’s mostly what I can think of right now. Pretty sure that story also had some interesting quartzes but I remember next to nothing about them. Again, I remember mostly lore and world building stuff so AU fans hit me up for gem lore I guess.  Not sure if this is even a little bit interesting but thanks for the ask :)

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Sixty-One: Raindrops ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

Another early Winter day...another bout of rain.

Waking slowly, Hinata peers out from her bed, blankets brought up to her nose. Unlike the chill outside, her room is nice and cozy, the temptation to linger in bed a while longer strong indeed. But eventually she stirs, slipping out from the sheets and making to dress. Tank and shorts are exchanged for a wooly sweater dress. Combined with tights and boots, she’s ready for her day.

The space upstairs isn’t the biggest - much like a studio apartment. The kitchen is tiny, combined with a place to sit and eat. A couch and a desk in a corner serve for as much of a living room as she can manage. Everything is a theme of white and lilac, little space left over beyond the necessities. But given that the shop takes up the entirety of the downstairs, there’s only so much space here to work with.

Not that she minds. Hinata’s always been a bit of a...compact person. While not against open spaces, she just...doesn’t have a use for them. Each square foot has a purpose here, and there’s less room for clutter or a need to be cleaned.

A win in her book.

Breakfast is a simple affair: eggs boiled yesterday are peeled and sliced on top of toast with a little salt and pepper, black tea with a small dollop of honey helping to wash it down as she checks her phone. The news, as is typical, offers only dreary, depressing topics. Her Facebook is full of people presenting only their best sides. Hardly realistic, and inspiring more insecurity than happiness.

But she’s never really been the sort to linger on such things. The social media she has is mostly just to keep in touch with people. The connection and yet distance is just perfect for her. She chats with friends from high school when it’s convenient, but doesn’t have to sit through several hours of in-person interaction that just drains her more than it satisfies her.

Once she’s at least part way caught up with the ways of the world, Hinata tidies up after herself before heading downstairs, unlocking the door at the bottom of the stairwell that leads to the back of the shop.

As always, the smell of flowers hits her like a very pleasant ton of bricks, and a smile blooms over her face. Everything is just as she left it the night before. Shelves of supplies are fully stocked, her arrangements of plants near the windows to entice passersby to come in and take a closer look. The floor was swept before bed, and the lights come on to bathe the room in a pleasant ivory hue.

While some people drudge on in their day to day lives, Hinata counts herself very lucky to have a job she loves every day.

Having twenty minutes before it’s time to open, she does one last sweep of her inventory, making sure nothing is empty or misplaced. The coolers holding cut and pre-arranged flowers hum in the quiet, and Hinata uses the last bit of time to water the plants in the windows. Raindrops slither down the panes, warping her view to the outside like a watercolor painting. The tones beyond are mostly dreary, greyed out by the overcast weather.

But Hinata loves the rain. And Winter as a whole, even if it means most plants are dead or sleeping. In here, and in the attached greenhouse, she gets to be surrounded by them all year round. And help others enjoy them, too!

Just as she finishes, the clock strikes nine, and she flips the sign in the door to, “Open”.

Of course, she doesn’t expect many walk-ins. This time of year, most of her patronage comes online, or on the phone: people ordering bouquets, for the most part. As much as she loves arranging flowers, it does make her sad not to see more potted plants sold. After all, cut flowers only last so long. Pretty and eye-catching...but so quick to wither. A bit of a waste, really.

But not everyone can handle a full-time plant, of course. And she’d rather someone unable use cut flowers than let a live plant fade.

Checking her website in the meantime, Hinata finds a handful of new orders, moving them to her tablet as she gets to work creating the arrangements. Most probably won’t come to pick them up until tomorrow, as per her warning to wait at least twenty-four hours. But she might as well get them done now, just in case something else comes up to -

Jingle!

Coming up a bit short as the bell over the door rings, Hinata blinks wide eyes in surprise. A customer! Given the rain, she’d assumed few would bother to come in!

A man stands by the door, shaking off his umbrella just outside before closing it and stepping fully inside. He gives the shop a curious once over before spying her by the counter.

“Hello,” she greets, giving a smile. “How can I help you, sir?”

“Uh...looking for a plant…”

As always, Hinata withhold a small snort at the comment. Given he’s come to a flower shop, that much is...typically obvious. “Of course! Do you have anything specific in mind?”

“Not really? I...don’t know much about them, in all honesty,” he replies, a hand at his neck.

“May I ask what the occasion is…?”

“Just a bit of a pick-me-up for my mom. She’s got those Winter blues, y’know? And she always has a garden in the Summer, so...I thought maybe having something in the house would give her something to do.”

At that, Hinata perks up. “I see! Does she, um...have any favorites?”

“I really don’t know,” he offers, giving a small huff of sheepish laughter. “I barely know what any flowers are regardless.”

“I see...well, what about a favorite color?”

“Well, most of her flowers tend to be bright. Yellow, orange, red...mostly red, I think.”

“Hm…” Hinata moves to the front, looking over her collection. “Amaryllis is usually a good choice. They’re v-very easy to care for, and have very pretty red blooms,” she begins, gesturing to one she has in a dark green pot. “And she can move it outside in the Summer! Every year it will get a little bigger as the bulb grows.”

“...bulb?”

Hinata hesitates for a moment. “...um...sort of like an onion…? It’s a s-structure for the plant underground, and the plant grows up from it. It allows a plant to be a perennial, meaning...it will come back multiple years, rather than just one, like an annual.”

“Oh...well, I guess that will work.”

...she hasn’t shown him anything else, but it seems he’s not picky in the slightest. “All right! Do you like the pot it’s in? I can change it out if not.”

“That should work.”

“Perfect.” Taking the plant from the display, Hinata sets it on the counter and starts ringing up the exchange. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to have some color in all this dreary weather, huh?”

“Yeah, that was my thinking. Mom’s always been the sort to really dim down during the Winter. She likes the snow when it’s still fresh and pretty, but when it’s just rainy and foggy, it sort of wears on her.”

“Understandable,” Hinata agrees.

“Hey, uh...how long has this shop been here, by the way?”

“Well...let me think…” Hinata pauses, counting the times. “...at least about twenty years?”

“Whoa, seriously?”

“Mhm.” Scanning the barcode, Hinata fiddles with the register. “It was my m-mother’s. She divorced my father when I was very young, and came here. The shop owner employed her, and we lived upstairs. Eventually she managed to buy it. She passed away a few years ago, and...it’s been mine since.”

He suddenly feels rather awkward, shifting his stance a bit at the somber subject. “...I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you…”

“I just, y’know...thought you looked kinda young. I looked online first and saw you run the place.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“Huh, me too. Did you go to school here…?”

“I was homeschooled.”

His brows lift. “Wow...so your mom worked and taught you? She must’ve been one hell of a woman.”

That earns a warm but somber smile. “...she was. Her name was Hanako.”

“Guess that explains why I don’t recognize you. What was your name, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“...oh! It’s Hinata. Hinata Hyūga.”

“I’m Sasuke Uchiha. Nice t’meet you.”

“You too.” Smiling a bit more genuinely, she gives him his total, accepting cash and giving him the proper change. “I h-hope your mother enjoys her flowers!”

“Maybe I’ll come back and let you know how it goes. And uh...see if I need anything else. Uh...do I need anything else?”

“Not for now, no. I keep everyone properly watered and fertilized, but she’ll likely need some plant food and fertilizer once it runs out. And once it gets too b-big for the pot, it’ll need a bigger one. But she should be all set for now!”

“Ah, thanks.” Cradling the pot in one arm, he prepares to open his umbrella with the other. “Have a nice day.”

“You too!” Skirting around the counter, she holds the door open for him, waving as he makes his way down the sidewalk. Huh...he walked…? In this weather?

...what a strange man.

Curious, she pulls her phone from her pocket, doing a little digging through a few friends’ Facebooks. Within a minute, she finds him: a mutual friend of several of her own. Huh...funny how they’ve never crossed paths until now. Of course, her being homeschooled is likely to blame. She knows a few girls her age through her mother’s friendships with their mothers, but otherwise she’s rather...reclusive.

Curiosity piqued, it takes her a moment to remember she was indeed working on something - or, starting to - when he arrived.

Best get back to work.

                                                        .oOo.

     Random modern flower shop AU cuz...I felt like something a lil fluffy lol - also this idea for the family dynamic wouldn't leave me alone. In other words, Hanako leaves Hiashi before having Hanabi, so she doesn't pass from birth complications. She DOES still die a bit young, but gets to properly raise her daughter on her OWN terms.      Might be something neat to explore in a canon setting at some point, too.      Anywho! Sorry for missing last night, I just...had a day that kept piling things on, so I took the evening off to spend some time with my brother. It was a much needed break~ But! I'll be back in a jiffy to post another so I don't fall any further behind! As always, thanks for reading~

[swanwinged-princess]

The Hunchback of Notre Dame owo

@wouldhope// Disney Headcanon Meme

The Hunchback of Notre Dame - What is your muse’s religious beliefs? Have they ever experienced oppression at the hands of religion?

//Ok well FIRST of all

//And also this is;;; probably gonna be long;;; made twice as long because i’m gonna do one for standard!tutu (the one where she’s basically swan jesus) and one for verses/aus where she’s… at least a LITTLE bit more normal (see: her dad’s not a LITERAL DEITY)

I’m actually gonna start off with the latter here bc i think the former is probably gonna be longer anyway SO

(continues under cut)

In verses/aus where Tutu’s father isn’t a literal, actual spirit/deity/entity/god/what-have-ye (BNHA/affiliated spinoffs; duckverse/anthro/etc.; wizarding world; etc.):

She is… SOMEWHAT religious; definitely not overly so (see: not an asshole about it) but believes in angels/miracles/god/heaven and-or the afterlife. Definitely christianity-adjacent but not any particular type of christianity; possibly believes in hell/purgatory/some sort of punishment system after death but doesn’t really like to think about it, and her qualifications for GETTING there are stuff like, say, ‘committing many horrible murders’ or ‘being an unapologetic bigot’ as opposed to ‘not believing in jesus’ or ‘enjoying having sex’ or whatever.

 She doesn’t really even, say, go to church regularly (she’s heckin BUSY come on), but does enjoy being IN church, especially alone; it’s like a bit of a meditation for her/helps her clear her head and feel closer to god/spirituality/the universe/heaven/her mom.

She also prays pretty much every day- specifically once in the morning and at night- but also prays informally whenever she feels the need, and probably wouldn’t own much religious iconography besides maybe a few cross necklaces– you know, small, tasteful, very expensive; delicate, real silver or gold, maybe a single pearl right in the middle of the cross but that’s about it.

Whereas on the OTHER hand

//HOO BOY//

In main verse and associated, she’s… um.

Ok, so the Swan King may not technically be an actual GOD per se, but, well… He’s close. And people DO worship him. Not as many as there used to be, but they’re still there, and generally speaking basically everybody in the kingdom and round abouts that area observe it (swanianism or something idk) at least casually, by at least saying ‘swansdown’ and ‘swanfeathers’ and ‘by the swan’ instead of, for example, ‘oh my god’. 

There’s, like, one official church, with stained glass and pews and everything, where all the high-class weddings and funerals and etc. get held there, but there aren’t really any ‘priests’ and they don’t really hold services. 

There are lots and lots of old swan statues all over the area from centuries back, and while some of them got moved onto the tops of buildings/in fountains/ended up centers of various village squares, a lot of them had sort of… had temples built around them over the years- it just sorta happened- and that’s mainly where the average people observe their worship. 

Also, the Schwanensee royal family featured pretty largely in the theology, being sort of… the same thing as saints in Catholicism; whenever anybody was born/died on the sacred island a messenger dove got sent over to the mainland and there was an announcement made about it to the village. The sacred island/lake wasn’t really thought of as a real place- it was more like if you could see heaven a little bit from a high window, or if you climbed a really tall tree.

So when the island was basically burned to the ground and almost all the royal family was killed, it was… um….. 

Kind of a big fuckin’ deal.

When Tutu was rescued from the ruins, and everybody saw her, and everybody knew who she was, it was an even bigger deal. Everybody, in unison, basically decided that this tiny, traumatized, soot-covered, gray-feathered 6-year-old was the chosen one who was going to save them from everything from minor disagreements to, y’know, being ripped apart alive/having your heart and emotions pulled out and eaten by flocks of devil birds. 

People even started… worshipping her.

After the initial adjustment period, she actually handled it pretty well; at least externally. Of course, anyone who knows anything about actually being royalty knows that the whole trick is to be royal on the outside and a cobbled-together mess sustained by stress like that physics thing where you hold up a legless table by strings and the buckets of water on it, but as she got older she actually managed to get more of a handle on it. 

All in all, she’s… 

I mean, she’s more or less got it. Apart from sudden attacks of crippling, soul-crushing anxiety. But she really, really, really wishes that people would stop, or at least give the whole actually worshipping her a rest a little. Generally speaking, everybody in the kingdom (or at least in the castle village) does genuinely like her, but sometimes she gets people who want to, like, kneel at her, or try to touch her dress/feathers as she walks past, and when she tries to talk to them they start flinching away and holding up their little carved swan amulet necklaces like they think it’ll protect them and she’s just like dad dammit i am trying to be friendly do i have to say ‘be not afraid’ or something every time i go up to introduce myself to someone???

But yeah, generally speaking it’s not really a problem from the swan-leaning side. Where it starts going wrong is the raven-leaning side.

The swan-leaning people are all in all, y’know, normal fucking people, and their religion-worship-belief-etc. only ever gets to obnoxious-christianity levels. 

But the raven-leaning people can generally be qualified altogether as a crazy ransacking-and-pillaging murder cult.

 And they actually have backup from real, actual infernal blood magic demon stuff, a seemingly infinite supply of flocks of murderbirds and various and sundry quirky miniboss squad-types, whereas the normal people really only have Tutu and, allegedly, the faerie folk (those affiliated with the Lilac Fairy/Queen, at least) but they haven’t been seen in generations so it’s really anyone’s guess on that. 

They do a lot of, you know, general murder and mayhem- or at least they did, but the last really big thing they managed to pull off was the massacre on the sacred island, and technically speaking they actually failed to complete their objective because Queen Leda put Tutu to sleep with some ~magic~ and hid her in the hollow base of a swan statue in the middle of a rose thicket, which, by some sort of ‘coincidence’, didn’t seem to catch fire very much, and they were all too drunk on moonshine and bloodlust, and generally crazy and stupid, to actually look further for any survivors when everything was on fire and there were crows everywhere and they just sort of decided ‘yeah that’s it let’s go home’ and fucked off. 

At the current time, most of them aren’t actually too much of a threat because most of them are the stupid crazy ~3edgy5me~ idiot types– y’know, the kind who’d, say, march around waving factory-produced tiki torches at night and demand a police escort if they’re gonna be shouting in the general vicinity of a pride event because they’re ‘fearful of their safety :’(’ 

so, like, nowadays they’re really only like Team Rocket-level nuisances on a day-to-day basis because the kingdom had learned from their history and swore in a lot more ‘guards’ and ‘knights’- enough to mostly keep the peace in pretty much every town unless things get really, really bad. 

Uuuunfortunately, it’s not just idiots who want to wear black cloaks with pointy hoods to look like beaks and wave big curved swords around– i mean, it’s MOSTLY that, but also a lot of very smart, very greedy, bored, evil, and/or scheming people end up gravitating towards anything that’ll give them a lot of dumb people who they can tell what to do. 

So occasionally- very occasionally- they actually do something that’s… actually impactful, and everybody who gets out of it in one piece talks about how fucked up that was and ‘curse those raven bastards’ and etc. etc., but the crowmen (as they’re informally known) are also surprisingly good at apparently vanishing without a trace so it’s hard to catch them or do anything really constructive about the problem as a whole. 

Weeellllll, okay, ADMITTEDLY a few various gangs of them HAVE managed, by coincidence or the type of brief narrative luck that dumb people like that seem to have sometimes, to briefly kidnap Tutu, but she either gets rescued very quickly OR escapes by herself while they’re arguing with each other about HOW to kill her, WHETHER to kill her, and what the prospects of killing her now or maybe ransoming her and then killing her LATER would be, or they all sort of trip over their own and each other’s feet, cloaks, and swords and blunder their way into harmlessness in one way or another. 

TL;DR Tutu sort of... IS a part of her religion like how Jesus is a part of Christianity/associates and all things considered she’s handling it pretty well. Her entire family was murdered by basically a crazy satanic cult who still run around causing problems, but not as much as they used to, so.... Does that count as religious oppression???

[radiojamming]

DJ you’ve snatched me out of my post infinity war blues and punted me straight into caring about this dumpster fire family, and I couldn’t be more pleased, here’s a prompt if you’ve got the energy: angel!Deputy at the final confrontation with Joseph, maybe another option besides resist or leaving? (Also that fic with Jacob on the ridge has inspired some art that’ll probably be posted on friday) Thanks for sharing your fics with us! :)

glad i could assist!

also this is kind of a follow-up on jacob’s and john’s AU endings where angel!dep does some divine intervention. i’m just assuming they did the same for faith. :D (i also mix up like a bunch of books of revelation but it serves my purpose yes it does.)

- - -

“Joseph.” Their voice cuts through everything; the Bliss, the wind, the Voice. Nothing can stand against it. “Don’t do this.”

This. This being the endtimes, the Revelation, the Apocalypse, the prophecy that’s been whispered into his ears since he was a child. This that he’s been preparing for since then, having gone through so much, having done more. And this is where he ends up, shaking in something almost like rage in front of his church, in front of where this all began, when Hell came with Whitehorse. 

Unlike then, his siblings aren’t standing behind him. They’re standing in front of him, and behind the Deputy; behind Hell. 

He searches each one of them, like somehow they’ll offer clues as to why they were led astray. John would have been the most likely, but it still shakes Joseph indescribably to see a handgun in his baby brother’s hands, the barrel pointed at him, the heart tattooed on his right index finger dangerously close to squeezing the trigger. There’s some conflict on his face, but he seems strangely resolute. The mania in him, which pained Joseph for so long to see, is gone. In its place is something far more certain and secure.

And Faith, his Faith, stands at the Deputy’s left side. She’s not behind them, tucked away like an afterthought. She has a ferocity in her face, anger crossing her features and contorting them. The pistol in her hand looks wrong, an out of place artifact meant to be on the other side of the earth, away from her. Like John, there’s a confidence to her now, but also a kind of clarity. Mist has been cleared from her eyes, and while there’s still softness, it isn’t all-consuming. Her bare feet are on solid ground, a shoulder-width apart, her stance unwavering.

Finally, there’s Jacob. Joseph’s heart aches to see Jacob there, on the Deputy’s right side. He has his sniper rifle lowered, but his finger is on the trigger, and Joseph knows from experience how quickly he can raise and fire it with fatal accuracy. What seems the most jarring to Joseph is that it isn’t confidence or resolution in his expression, but something so painfully familiar that Joseph wants to weep at the sight. It’s the same expression he would make when he knew their father was coming home; that fire contained in one small place, burning behind his eyes. That no matter how many times he was hit, cut, sworn at, spit on, or heaven knew what else, he would continue to get back up, and he’d happily do it all again if it meant no one would touch his brothers. To see it now, directed at Joseph, alive where he seemed to be dead for so long, is the genesis of the worst sorrow.

The Deputy– Well, he knows what the Deputy is now. They appear human, bedraggled and bruised, a custom rifle in their hands, and pure righteousness in their posture. Yet their face is all pity, open and pleading. And he knows, through Bliss vapors and the Voice that the rifle in their hands is a burning spear, and the storms forming in the Whitetails are their wings spreading across the county.

“You can walk away,” they continue. “You can resist this. It doesn’t have to end like this and you know it.”

His jaw opens and closes before he tries to steel himself, against the angel, against his family. “I heard, as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts saying–”

The Deputy laughs. They laugh at him, high and clear and pleasant. It’s a strange sound when everything around them seems so broken. And yet, when Joseph looks around, no fire descends from the mountainsides. The waters are still clear, and the earth is warm and gold and green. Blue jays crackle in the trees, and eagles still turn gyres overhead. 

“Try another verse, Joseph,” they say gently. They aren’t mocking or insulting. It’s a suggestion that carries on the wind with the lightness of a sparrow. 

He thinks. He tries to listen for the Voice, but there’s only the quiet whisper of the wind, the calls of birds, the gentle streaming of nearby water. The Voice is utterly quiet, and no visions fill his mind. He feels hollowed out, empty, vulnerable.

“And after these things I saw another angel come down from heaven,” he says slowly, in a voice that sounds so distant, so tired. “Having great power; and the earth was lightened with his glory.”

Because that is the truth, isn’t it? The visions and voices stutter to a halt in front of the Deputy, like hitting the roadblocks placed around the county to keep it isolated. Now they work against him, and he’s left standing there, surrounded by the ruins. 

His voice shakes. His voice hasn’t shaken in years.

“A-and he cried out in a mighty voice, ‘Fallen, fallen is Babylon the great! She has become a lair of demons.’“

Not Eden. Babylon.

He sees a bloodstain on the ground at John’s feet, smells the burning and rot in the air, and he sees it on the faces of his family. Babylon is not the world outside, not the social mire that he detested for so long. He’s built Babylon, and simply called it something else. Now, possibly through whatever the Deputy’s doing to him, he starts to see the blackened ribs beneath his project, and he trembles like the very walls of Jericho.

“There’s another verse,” the Deputy says softly. Joseph hasn’t even noticed their approach, but they’re suddenly in front of him, one hand extended. “And he had in his right hand seven stars: and out of his mouth went a sharp twoedged sword: and his countenance was as the sun shineth in his strength.”

Joseph looks at them, really looks. He sees the light shining from the Deputy, radiant and pure and truly there. He sees sunlight on their fingertips, starlight in the creases of their palm. 

He falls to his knees, and begins to weep when he feels their hand on his head.

- - -

And when I saw him, I fell at his feet as dead. And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, “Fear not; I am the first and the last: I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen.”

[clown-bait]

Paranormal Journeys Part 7 (Monster Roommate AU)

WOW I FINALLY DID IT. So I started a new job and things have been NUTS but this fic is not dead and I am determined to finish it. And dont you worry folks I’m a stubborn ass who does not quit. So here it is the next chapter. Leech gets tortured a bit and Penny visits an old friend. Hope you guys like it!

Ch 7 Mike Hanlon gets a Visitor

A screech echoed though the old barn of the former Hanlon sheep farm. Leech glanced furiously around the stall she was in. A moment ago she was full and happy then suddenly a cloth was pressed to her mouth and a bag over her head.

“WHO THE FUCK IS THE IDIOT THAT CHLOROFORMED ME!!” The vampire roared “CAUSE I’D LIKE TO KNOW WHO’S HEAD IM RIPPING OFF FIRST!”

Her head snapped in the direction of footsteps and she tried to charge with supernatural speed but felt a short chain attached to her neck snap tight. The nosferatu snapped her jaws in frustration.

“Ok guys get everything ready make sure the cameras are rolling and somebody wake up Chris.” Zander shouted as he approached the struggling vampire.

“Don't worry we’re going to help you.”

“BITCH THE ONLY HELP I NEED IS FINDING SPACE TO STORE YOUR LEFTOVERS!!” She snapped.

The ghost hunter pulled a cross from his coat and held it out at the nosferatu who began to hiss loud and sweat. He quickly put it away at her reaction.

“She's possessed all right, did you see how much she recoiled in terror? this is definitely a powerful demon were dealing with here”

“Demon?! Motherfucker I'm friends with demons, you wouldn't know a demon if it came up and bit you in the ass.” Leech spat and pulled on her chain.

“Note the foul language and denial. The creature that has ahold of her is definitely scared and trying to protect its self.”

“Protect myself from what? This shit show excuse of a reality tv exorcism? Tell ya what, if you free my hands i’ll spew pea soup at big boy over there and speak latin backwards. These shackles are tight as fuck can’t a girl get a little comfort?”

“Gosh its foul mouthed.” the bigger ghost hunter said to the team.

“Yeah thats how they are bro it's definitely going to try to provoke us. Whatever you do don't engage.” Zander said to his team mate while placing different items on a table

“You started it.” Leech mumbled. “What are those?”

“We're going to force you out of this poor girl.”

“AH! So its to be torture! I can cope with torture.” Leech flashed a cocky grin and wiggled her eyebrows expectantly.

“Did you…. steal that line from Princess Bride?” the bigger ghost hunter Rick asked her.

“Eeeyyy! Someone finally gets my references! And to think I was gonna eat this guy first!”

“RICK don't engage it!” Zander hissed

“Found our villain! Now tell me do you have six fingers on your left hand or am I gonna be calling you Humperdink”

“I think it was the right hand” Rick interjected

“Huh no shi-OW FUCK JESUS CHRIST!!!” Leech screamed as holy water was flung at her face by the lead ghost hunter. A cluster of painful burns began to bubble on her skin where the water had landed. “RUDE!”

“Silence demon!”

“I’M NOT A DEMON! GOD you are like the biggest edge lord! What’s next? You gonna start shouting bible verses too like they do in the movies?” she snarled as Chris walked in the room.

“Z I had the weirdest fucking dream.”

“Not now bro we’re doing the exorcism.”

“Yeah poorly. Bet you dickbags got all your training from bad horror movies and porn parodies.”

“Sheesh that thing is nasty” Chris winced

“Demon Dick 5?” the Rick asked as his companions glared at him in shock and annoyance.

“One of my favorites Rick. I like this guy have him do the exorcism!”

“We've already wasted enough time!” Zander shouted and picked up a book from the table he began to read a passage and Leech dramatically pretended to hiss and writhe her tongue lolling out of her mouth. “Hahaha Man oh man if Phil could hear you guys talking about him like this he'd be laughing with me just as hard! Shit wait somebody text him for me!”

“Why would we do that? Also who's phil?”

“Oh right, Phil is Satan we used to play poker together before my boyfriend banned it from the house. Not my doing for once lets get that clear.”

“Don't listen to a word its saying guys”

“Aw come on Humperdink let me just text my buddy once” her eyes flashed white over in Rick’s direction before being splashed with holy water once again. The nosferatu’s skin sizzled and steam rose from her burns. “J-just….text…LOL getting… a half assed….exorcism…hit send…. mph there.”

Chris glanced over to Rick who’s eyes had rolled up into his head he was holding her cellphone which just buzzed with a notification. “RICK SNAP OUT OF IT!” he shouted and turned to the grinning vampire pelting a rock at her face. “LET HIM GO”

Leech spat as the stone broke her nose and looked back up sticking her tongue out through the black ichor dripping down her face.

“CHRIS! Control yourself!” Zander shouted and Leech winked back at the two.

“Read it Ricky!” she smirked.

“I-it says R-O-F-L cant be there, at yoga getting this ass….its a picture of a goat and a woman’s back side” Rick’s eyes rolled back down and Leech vomited a small amount of black goo onto the barn floor. “Phew that took more out of me than I thought” she muttered and panted.

“RICK!”

“I'm sorry she did something to my head!”

“Ok but can you at least show the picture though?” the vampire asked looking up from her now bruising eye and nose.

“NO!” the other two ghost hunters turned and shouted.

“OH COME ON! I wanna see that booty”

“WOW this thing is terrible!” Chris glanced over at Zander who was prepping to try another round of bible verses.

“I know bro this is one of the nastiest ones we've dealt with! This is pure evil we’re dealing with here.” The lead ghost hunter clapped his friend on the shoulder reassuringly.

“Aww I'm blushing! you really mean it?!” the vampire shouted to them

“Bro hand me my rosary.”

“What are those? Anal beads? So you HAVE seen Demon Dick 5!”

Zander got close and began to shout “IN THE NAME OF JESUS CHRIST I COMMAND YOU TO GET OUT OF THIS WOMANS BODY”

“Hahaha that was totally a direct quote.” Leech laughed again but was cut short when the silver cross dangled in front of her face “FUCK GET IT AWAY!” She hissed and the ghost hunter dangled it closer to her. Leech could feel her skin burn with heat where it drew close. The ghost hunter threw another wave of holy water at her and she hissed in pain face turning skeletal for a second as her skin sizzled. “A-all right if were gonna get straight into the kinky stuff we should at least have a safe word. Mine’s usually Float.” she tried to joke through the pain. Her skin was on fire with the crucifix being so close.

“Z I don't think she's a demon” Rick said tugging on his leaders arm

“Rick I’ve been at this way longer than you I know a demon when I see one”

“Bullshit you're doing this all wrong. Plus Im not a demon I can prove it too if you hand me that orange.” Leech panted.

“I don't know Z this could be a trick” Chris said with worry.

“Look have you ever seen one do some of the shit she just did? Just hand her the orange”

“Fine Rick. Fine. We’ll humor you but if nothing happens we’re getting right back to the exorcism.”

Zander rolled the fruit over to the vampire who glared up at him from her knees “You gonna undo my hands so I can eat this?”

“No.”

“Weeeelllll fuck you then! So much for what’s left of my dignity.” she grumbled and bent down to the floor biting into the fruit as best she could to suck out the juice. “Ahm hoing to rerhet hiss ho huch…” she said while her fangs sunk in. Leech came up with a weak expression on her battered and burnt face looking nauseous and dizzy. “You're all gonna wanna stand back when I- HURK!” the vampire suddenly lurched forward and spewed out blood and guts onto the barn floor in an inhuman amount. She kept going for a solid five minutes until Leech was slumped over supported by the chain around her neck. “Huh, is that an engagement ring? Shit I need to chew my food.” she wheezed before emptying the rest of her stomach contents.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!?!” all three ghost hunters screamed in unison.

“Yeah lets see Pazuzu pull that shit!” Leech grinned declaring victory before shouting at some unknown force in the ground “YOU HERE THAT ZUZU I JUST OUT WEIRDED YOU! WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW BITCH!? PEA SOUP GOT NOTHING ON ME!”

“Zander! If this is not a demon then what the hell is she bro?” Chris turned to his leader in a panic

“Nosferatu.” a vaguely familiar female voice said walking into the barn “What you're dealing with is a nosferatu.”

leech sniffed the air and snarled in disgust.

“Fuck.”

———————————————————————-

Somewhere in the town of Derry, Mike Hanlon was laying in his bed coming down from another high. It was time to turn in for the night but with all that had been going on the last couple days the librarian needed a fix…. just a quick one to calm the nerves. His night would be anything but calm when two glowing yellow eyes lit up his room like the obnoxious christmas lights his neighbors had set up.

“Mike” something whispered in the dark “Mike! Help us!” came another disembodied voice. He knew them all too well. The librarian sat up in his bed glancing around his room unaware of the creeping fingers clawing up his mattress. Burnt hands wrapped around the terrified man pinning him down while a disheveled looking monster from his childhood nightmares stepped into the moonlight.

“Thought you could trick me did ya Mikey? Thought you could fool Ol’Pennywise by taking what he loves most. Stupid boy! Stupid, stupid, stupid! No one fools me. no one.” the clown began his voice shaky and dangerous trying to mask the obvious panic behind it as he paced. The creature’s posture and gait reminded him of a nervous caged animal unpredictable and dangerous. Something was very wrong with IT.

“Y-you? W-hy are you here?” the librarian asked cautiously.

“TELL ME where she is SHEEP BOY. Tell Penny where his peachy is and he’ll make it much much quicker for you. Yes! A quick death or a slow one pick your path!” he snarled as Mike was trying to decide if he was still high.  

“A-are you real?”

“REAL? Real THIS ISNT REAL ENOUGH FOR YOU MIKEY?”

Mike’s stomach flip flopped in realization of the little reminder of all those years ago. IT had to be real and now IT was in his bedroom.

“Penny knows you need time, yes iIknow you haven't figured out that stupid reptile’s riddles. Don't you fret sheep boy I am just here for her this time. Bring her to me, bring me my mate and you can go back to trying to understand what mortals cannot.” IT was frantically babbling around his room pacing like a tiger in a small cage looking almost fearful its self. Mike remembered that look well the last emotion he saw on ITs face before it vanished down that hole. Something was very, very wrong.

“A mate? …You?!” he asked trying to keep the creature talking to piece the situation together as best he could.

The clown shot him an unamused look as if this was far from the first time someone has asked that. “Where is my Leechie!? I am the questioner here!”

“You're talking about Lucy right? Something’s happened to her?”

“Lucy… Lucy yes, yes her human name. Don’t play games sheep boy release her to me!” Pennywise snarled while he stalked beginning to impatiently kick things over and sniff items of clothing desperate for that sweet smell of blood and ashes.

“Even if I did know where she is, why would I help you?”

The clown roared and charged forward coming in close to the trapped man on the bed fangs bared long and needle like. IT spat in Mike’s face drool and bits of flesh hitting his skin as it spoke. Something was very off with IT more so than usual, as if possessed by some sort of ancient instinct overriding its usual demeanor.

“You want to stop me don't you? I’ll let you live Mikey! Yesss I’ll let you try! One free shot! Just give me my Peachy!” IT was bargaining now just like it did in the cistern 27 years ago. The clown must be desperate.

“I don't have her” the librarian spat back at the clown who snarled and grabbed his throat. Suddenly Mike felt searing pain in his mind as IT forcibly invaded his thoughts its eyes blackened on the edges pupils drifting off into different directions till he found what he was looking for and returned them to focus. IT’s face changed again from rage, to shock and finally to embarrassment. In IT’s hate fueled assault on its enemy IT had made a grave mistake. Mike had nothing to do with his precious mate. In fact all Pennywise had done was just reveal his greatest weakness to his greatest enemy. IT had messed up and it had messed up bad.

The clown released the librarian and awkwardly backed up off the bed eyes large and wide. Wordlessly, IT glanced over to Mike’s bedroom door and without breaking eye contact opened it while silently slinking out like a dog with its tail between its legs. The hands around the librarian vanished into smoke and everything became calm and quiet around him. “What the hell just happened?” he asked the empty void not expecting to get a response and not sure if he wanted one either.

———————————

Pennywise returned to his home to find his…..friends? Seated on his couch awaiting the result of his hasty impromptu rescue mission. That, and they were probably mad that he tore Freddy’s head back off in rage. Even his cat seemed a bit upset with him.

“Well? Did you embarrass yourself?” Chucky asked him taking a drag from one of Leech’s joints.

“It…..it wasn't the librarian…” the clown muttered.

“Oh yeah he embarrassed himself.” Freddy laughed still applying a few more staples to his neck.

“Hey if Fangs doesn't come back can I use her room? Thinkin’ about making it into a nice man cave” Chucky boldly asked earning him a death glare from the distressed clown.

Penny snarled and shooed everyone away from his couch snatching up Church to absentmindedly pet as if the cat was a coping mechanism for his current state. What if she doesn't come back? There were emotions he was feeling he didn't think were possible. His new strange instinct to protect driving him to near insanity as he was currently in a constant war with himself to drive the feeling back. Nature and ego raged war inside the eldritch being.

His inner thoughts were interrupted when the door to Neibolt House creaked open the residents all took their leave except the owner who still sat on his couch stroking his cat not wanting to put any effort into this one.

“H-Hello?” a voice called out. “Uh clown? Pennywise?” Mike had never actually called the clown by name before it felt weird on his tongue.

Something appeared behind the librarian blocking his exit.

“What do you want” IT hissed low and in a whisper. Mike turned to see the god of fear its self looming behind him with a plump dirty grey cat tucked under its arm. The two stared at each other in hatred and confusion. The librarian looked at Church and back to the clown.

“Is that a cat?”

“Possibly..”

“Are you going to explain why you have it?”

“No.”

“….what the hell happened to you?” Mike whispered half to the clown half to himself.

“Why are you here?” pennywise snarled growing impatient.

“I cant believe I'm saying this but I'm here to….help.”

“YOU WHAT?!” the house shook with the inhuman roar released from Pennywise’s throat.

“LET ME EXPLAIN HOLD ON!” the librarian put his hands out in an attempt to calm the savage beast who had nearly thrown the animal in its arms.

“You have five seconds human before I tear out your eyes.”

“Look you want your…uh girlfriend or whatever she is back. I need more time to figure out how to kill you.”

“Is this a bargain?” the clown raised his eyebrow suspiciously.

“Whoever has her is most likely trying to get to you and will try to harm you as well. We both know all they will do is send you back to sleep and if that happens I can’t stop you and you lose the girl. I can help you get her back. I have a way into the farm, and I can distract whoever has her as a friendly face. Then we can go back to trying to kill each other, business as usual.”

The clown glared at mike with a fury that made the librarian tremble with fear. This had been a mistake he was going to die and everything will be ruined on this stupid risk.

“You dare assume I cannot solve my own problems sheep boy?? What’s to stop me from tearing you apart right now.”

“That.” Mike pointed behind the clown. Pennywise slowly turned to see a box with a balloon tied to it specifically just to mock him. The clowns eyes grew wide as he sniffed the air and saw the black ooze leaking out of the corner of the cardboard. With careful claws he opened the lid and peered inside letting out one of the most horrifying sounds Mike Hanlon had ever heard in his life. The box was thrown to the floor and an object rolled out of it. It was a cold pale finger tipped with a sharp feminine nail and the blood that leaked from it was black.

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

Uh oh what did Leechie do this time? Poor clown be going NUTS over all this. Im so excited to do some frenemy shit with Pen and Mike like Ive been DYING to get here. Also its Leech’s turn to meet an old enemy. Wonder who it is?

[jesbakescookies]

Birds and Bees

This was supposed to be a random one-shot but as I was writing it, I realized I was writing the Negan from my fanfiction Rear Window. 

So please consider this a prequel one-shot to Rear Window. It's okay if you haven't read it, but I thought that those of you who have, might enjoy thinking of this as the time before Negan knew Kayla.

AU one-shot, no zombies. It contains cussing and smut, as well as a healthy dose of Negan humor.

This was a prompt from a friend. "Negan teaches sex-Ed.”

Thanks for the idea @lovesjdm! I hope you and @soythedemonqueen enjoy it!

I don't own the Walking Dead etc. I just play with it, like an overgrown child.

"Alright, alright. I want asscheeks in seats." Negan hollered, smacking a yardstick against the large desk in front of the class.

Handing a pile of paperwork to the boy in the first seat, Negan instructed, "Everybody take one and pass it along. This is reading material. Do not draw dicks on it. Do not write little love notes to your moon faced girlfriends and do not make any goddamn paper airplanes or so help me, you'll be running laps until your grandkids have gray ball hair. You got me, Stephens?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's what I like to hear." Negan drawled, slumping down in the rolling deskchair at the front of class. "Now you little pud pullers are in for a treat today. We have a special guest speaker and I want you clowns to behave."

"Who?" A kid in the center asked after raising his hand.

"Nurse Andrews is going to stop by for some... educational instruction." Negan rasped, a smile twitching at his lips at the idea of it. The new principal had mandated all Sex-Ed classes be taught by Co-Ed instructors, meaning Negan and Nurse McNiceTitties would be chatting about the birds and the bees to a bunch of fifteen year olds.

After class, if Negan got his way, he'd put a very large instructional manual on the subject matter, straight in her inbox. Hell, maybe even in her outbox, if she was a dirty girl.

"Now I don't want any damn shenanigans today." He instructed, raising his hand to count off all the ways the idiots could fuck up his chances of landing the hottest piece of ass at school, since the librarian transferred from Tolleson. Sarah was last fall's conquest and he was still avoiding the stage-four clinger like the clap. Negan was hoping the cute little nurse would provide him with much needed release, without all the strings.

Scanning the room, he stared down the biggest pains in his ass, while listing off his shit list.

"Number one, no dick or boob jokes. I'm the only one here funny enough, to pull that shit off, so don't-even-try-it. Number two, do not and I repeat, do not use the example condoms given to you, as water balloons."

The group broke into laughter, until Negan scowled deeply and slid a silencing glare over the room. Truthfully, he found that shit, funny-as-fuck. However, seeing as the last incident, ended with the principal reaming him a new asshole, Negan wanted to dodge that shitfest if at all possible.

"If I see a bunch of rubbers busted across campus, I will make you wish your parents double bagged it, before they went twenty toes. I will shut that shit down. Are we clear?"

A round of affirmative nods and grunted yeahs, echoed across the room. Moments later, a tap on the door announced his latest obsessions arrival and had him rising to open the door. Turning back to the classroom of twenty-five male students, he threatened, "Do not embarrass me."

After waiting for the group to nod in agreement, Negan opened the door with a wide grin. "Well, if it ain't my favorite medical professional."

Leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, Negan blocked her from entering and let his hooded eyes trail down the sexy little things body. The woman was more than a foot shorter than Negan, the loose bun she wound her red hair in, giving her a couple more inches.

'Not as many as I'll give her later.' He thought with a smirk.

Her ginger complexion wasn't unhealthy, having more of a peach tone than a ghostly white and her rosy lips and sculpted brows fit her heart shaped face perfectly. She wore a pale grey cardigan and tight black skirt that showed of her curvy hips and shapely calves. The sexy secretary look had Negan's dick twitching and balls aching to slap against that apple shaped ass, he swore he could bounce a quarter off it.

Rolling her pretty blue eyes, the petite redhead murmured, "Am I allowed to come inside or am I teaching in the hall?"

"Oh I'll let you come inside, dollface. Hell, maybe even outside, if you're the adventurous type."

Sighing in frustration, Nurse Andrews brushed passed him, leaving behind the tantalizing smell of something sweet and mouth watering. While greeting the students, the redhead wrote her name on the chalkboard.

"Hello, class. Most of you have met me in the recent weeks but I'll go ahead and introduce myself, for those of you who haven't. I'm Ms. Andrews and along with your physical education teacher, I will be providing you with valuable information. This information is very important for you and your future well being, so I'd like all of you to pay attention and take this course very seriously."

"Damn, you sound so strict." Negan murmured next to her, a grin curling his lips as she blushed under his gaze. Licking the corner of his lip, Negan added, "I never would've guessed, but I like it. Very… naughty schoolmarm."

Rolling her eyes again, the school nurse wandered further down the chalkboard away from him and wrote down a list of topics for the day. Negan stood nearby, his head cocking slightly to the side as she bent over to finish the long list. He could see the barest lace edge of a pair of thigh high stockings, the sight causing his needy dick to throb.

'Fuckin hell.' He growled inwardly at the idea of bending her over the desk and pushing the little skirt over her curved ass, exposing the nylons and what promised to be a tight kitten.

"Okay, where would you like to start?" Ms. Andrews asked, interrupting his filthy fantasy, her jewel toned eyes rising to his.

"Oh, I got a couple ideas." He drawled, before biting his lip in thought.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, she offered, "I suppose I can start then, since you're so… overwhelmed. Everyone turn to page fifteen in your Health Sciences textbook. We're going to talk about the female anatomy."

"I think I should take this one, Ms. Andrews. I'm an expert in this subject."

"More than an actual female?"

"You have... no idea."

"Be that as it may, I will be taking over this part of the course." She informed, her eyebrow cocking haughtily. The expression made his throat bob, as he swallowed thickly, the challenge in her eyes causing his blood pressure to rise.

"If you say so, nurse."

Pursing her lips, she turned to the students and began her detailed explanation of the human female anatomy. The words were scientific and medical in natural but every time one slipped from her pretty pink lips, Negan had the urge to taste the part spoken about.

"The areola…"

All he could think about, was the shade of pink her perky nipples probably were and if they'd taste as sweet as she smelled. Watching her shift her weight, from pointy heel to pointy heel, Negan felt his mouth dry, as her calves flexed deliciously. He wanted to throw them over his shoulders and bite them, while giving her 'what for' on the teacher lounge table.

"Negan." Her voice broke his dazed stare from the delicate bones above her fuck-me heels and realized it was his turn to speak. Clearing his throat, he took the textbook from her and flipped to the male anatomy chapter.

"Page fifty five." He instructed hoarsely, leaning against the front of the desk, his long legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle. "I know all of you perverts are well versed in your gear by now, but we're going to gross you out by telling you what exactly is inside that dried apricot of yours."

"Jesus." He heard her mutter under her breath, her arms crossing with a huff.

Flashing her a wide grin, Negan began reading the paragraph of the vessels in the testicles and the human erection. Droning on with the required information, he ended the bland speech by slapping the book shut and asking, "Any questions about your tool bag?"

"No." They all answered emphatically.

"Great. We all know how boners are made. Now onto the good stuff, right?"

The school nurse touched his arm and whispered, "Maybe I should do this next part."

"Why do you say that?" Negan drawled, his lips tugging at the corner, as she flushed under his hooded stare.

Huffing out a breath of frustration, she murmured, "Because these kids don't need to learn how to be promiscuous. They need educational information on being safe and the results of not doing so."

"Please say promiscuous again but slower and softer like." He rasped, his eyes darkening as she stared incredulously at him.

"Negan." She growled, the sound turning him on more than anything else, ever before.

"Okay, okay, Nurse Ratched, take all the fun out of it." He grumbled, gesturing towards the group of horny teenagers. "They're all yours."

Negan could barely control the chuckle bubbling up in his chest, as she seemed to flounder at the attention. She coughed into her hand and cleared her throat, while picking up the textbook.

"Please uh… turn to page ninety, Chapter Fifteen…. Sexual Intercourse."

Wiping a heavy hand across his mouth, Negan hid the grin giving away his total, utter amusement at her sudden shyness. Noticing his barely suppressed humor at the situation, Ms Andrews barreled full steam ahead.

"Wait, so… like you can get stuff from a blow job?" Stephens asked with a furrowed brow.

Negan snorted at the question and replied, "Think about it this way. Say you're with a girl, who'd been with someone with a vicious case of nut scabbies. She was cool with it, or hey, maybe not and that's why she kicked his scabby ass to the curb. If she'd bobbed the bishop head, she could be carrying a unpleasant surprise on those pretty glossed lips. Then along comes you, a bumbling idiot looking to stick your meat thermometer somewhere. That hot little mouth could leave more than cherry chapstick on your sack."

Ms. Andrews rolled her eyes at his description and added, "What your teacher so elegantly put, oral sex can lead to the transference of sexual transmitted diseases from mouth to genitalia and vice versa."

"Yeah, that's what I said." Negan drawled, flashing her a smirk. "Now some things can be cured with some knob butter."

"Medical intervention.

"But a lot can't be." Negan ignored her input. "You could be stuck with a lifetime of itchy balls and weeping dicks. So… as much as it blows to wear condoms while getting a blow, at least your dick won't fall off afterwards."

"Wearing a condom during oral sex is the best way to avoid contracting contagious venereal diseases." She translated into adult.

"That's what I said." Negan repeated, his lip twitching as she let out a long frustrated sigh.

"So like, if a girl like… does it a lot it's bad right?" A messy haired teen asked after the awkward descriptions of types of fornication.

"Man, I told you. Stacy's a slut." His friend added with a grin.

Whistling sharply at the latest barrage of inappropriate statements, Negan growled, "What did I tell you about talking shit, Jeffreys? After school detention tomorrow."

"What? That's not fair!"

"You know what else isn't fair, this world subjecting others to idiots like you. So shut your trap, stop bad mouthing people or I'll have to call your mommy." Negan threatened, his eyebrows raised in challenge.

Scoffing loudly, the kid countered, "Pfft. She won't care. She hates Stacy."

"Oh… you thought." Negan chuckled gruffly, while taking a seat on the teen's desk casually.

Leaning closer he spoke quietly and calmly, "See I'm not going to rat on you kid... No, no… I'm going to ask her out. You know, wine and dine her. Show her a good time. I know she's been lookin'. Maybe I'll take her to that Italian restaurant she's always telling me about at our parent teacher meetings. She's a real looker, your mom… Hey, maybe I could be your new stepdad. Would you like that, son?"  

The kid became paler and paler as Negan spoke, his fingers gripping the pencil in his hand until it snapped. Glancing down at it, Negan returned his narrowed eyes to the horrified teen. "Or, you could stop being a royal case of crotch rot and stop talking shit about people."

Nodding numbly, the kid sank in his seat with dread still roiling in his stomach. Negan stood up and returned to the nurse's side, flashing her a smile. He noticed she looked a tad flustered, her eyes wider and brighter. He could tell she was both impressed and hot for his performance.

"You like that darlin'." He rasped lowly, his lip twitching as she seemed to startle at his question.

"T-that was inappropriate."

"But it was awesome." He drawled, winking at her. "Alright, you slack jawed idiots. Let's talk about how to protect your johnson from foreign invaders. This is a prophylactic. Also known as, a contraceptive, condom, rubber, jimmy hat, meat sack, dick shrinkwrap, raincoat and my personal favorite, boner bag. These guys are the first line of defense when it comes to STDs and pregnancy."

"But they aren't one hundred percent effective." The redhead added, stepping forward to speak the stats that she had memorized. Negan smirked as she prattled off on the chances of catching unattractive diseases and teen pregnancy. After the kids seemed thoroughly horrified at the graphic descriptions of revolting and decidedly, boner killing horror shows, Negan took the reigns on the demonstration.

"Okay, so… you decided not to wait. The moments right, your partners down with it." He drawled, feeling surprisingly embarrassed to handle a banana in front of the sexy school nurse. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her covering a smile, as he had his own moment of performance anxiety. Clearing his throat roughly, Negan instructed, "don't bite the wrapper, you're bound to tear it and there's no love, without the glove."

A low chuckle had his neck heating up and sweat to prickling at his temples. Negan wasn't someone who blushed at attention, but as he unrolled the stupid condom over the very impressive banana, he was as red as a Mormon in a whorehouse.

"There." He grunted, holding the defiled piece of fruit up in the air. "The big guy is ready for some fun with Ms. Chiquita."

"That's if you still want to and your partner does. You can always change your mind." She added, her eyes scanning the group. "There's no shame and shouldn't ever be any anger if someone changes their mind."

Negan nodded with the statement and leaned against the desk with thickly crossed arms. "Good point, Ms. Andrews. Let's talk about the word 'no'."

Looking over the teen boys, he spoke evenly and firmly. "The word no, means stop what you are doing and listen to what they are saying. No does not mean maybe. No does not mean try harder. It does not mean you have a reason to be angry with or hurt someone for saying it. No.. means.. no."

Staring them down with narrowed eyes, Negan drawled, "I want you to think about how it would feel to find out a woman in your life, maybe your mother or your sister, hell maybe your great aunt Linda… think about how it would be, to find out someone didn't listen to them when they said no. Think about how that would hurt them, how unfair and disgusting it would be for your loved one to be abused and disregarded like that. Think about it when you get pissed off because your partner changed their mind. You do not force someone to do something, they do not want. Do you understand me?"

The room was quiet for a long moment as the serious conversation sunk in. Negan scanned the room looking for anyone not paying attention or blowing off the speech but saw none.

"Understood?"

"Yeah." Was mumbled throughout the room.

"Excellent. Now we're going to watch a brief video about the miracle of childbirth. It should ruin sex for you until you're thirty." Negan drawled, shoving the ancient VHS tape in the equally ancient VCR.

After hitting play and turning the lights off, both Negan and Ms. Andrews headed to the back of the room. Slumping into one of the desks, Negan folded his arms across the top and kept his eyes on the trouble makers of the class. He felt the nurse staring at him but made sure to wait to acknowledge it. When she began to fidget, Negan rasped, "I know, I know. I'm inappropriate but the topic is one that pisses me the fuck off, so scare tactics were necessary."

"I was going to say I was impressed at your handling of it." She replied softly.

"That's not the only thing you'd be impressed at my handling of." He murmured with a grin.

Rolling her pretty eyes, the redhead muttered, "Do you have to always do that?"

"I know, I know. Bragging is unappealing but in my defense, I am really fucking awesome at handling my-."

"Stop. I wasn't talking about that. You always sexualize everything."

"That's because you turn this delicious shade of pink." Negan flirted.

"Shush." 

"Did you just shush me?"

"Yes, so... shush already." Her lips were pouty and pink, the quirk in the corner, telling him she was entertained but fighting the urge to admit it.

Chuckling under his breath, Negan leaned closer and murmured, "Doll, you couldn't shush me if you sat on my face. Actually I'd like to see you try that out. Who knows maybe it'll work. What'd ya say?"

"I say you're incorrigible."

"You love it."

"I love when you shut your mouth."

"So you want me to what, just sit here and look pretty?" He drawled, giving her his most cheeky smile. Rolling her eyes, she retorted, "sounds about right."

"So you think I'm attractive then." He smiled cockily.

"I think you're annoying."

"Annoyingly attractive." He quipped, bumping her with his elbow. "Stop pretending you weren't watching me fruit roll-up that banana without imagining me-."

"Stop." She growled, her eyes flashing to his. "You're being inappropriate."

"Yep."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"Nope."

"You should have that checked out."

"Well, that is a fine fucking idea." He drawled lowly, his mouth hovering near her ear. "Would you mind giving me a physical? You know, for scientific purposes."

Scoffing loud enough to have the boys heads turning back, the woman's cheeks turned that delectable shade he loved.

Clicking his tongue, Negan winked at her and whispered, "You're disrupting class, Ms. Andrews. I'll see you in after school detention."

"Pfft. Stuff it." She quipped, her eyes narrowing but the dimple in her cheek told him she was smirking under that scowl.

"Glad-fucking-ly." He rasped, his grit painting a vivid picture of just how much he wanted to. Flicking her eyes to his, the fiery redhead started to speak, but was interrupted, as the group of monsters set on destroying all of Negan's hard work, erupted into horror filled screams. Clenching his teeth, he glared at the screen as the bun was grotesquely expelled from the oven.

"Cock blockers." He muttered, slumping down, as the school nurse rose to turn the lights back on and stop the tape. Negan sulked for a moment, his dick ready to stage a revolt from the shear amount of heavy lifting it kept doing all afternoon.

'Easy big guy. Soon.' He grunted, while rising to his feet.

The class went much to be expected, red faced teenagers and exaggerated gagging sounds when discussing the menstruation cycle. Negan confiscated two notes and three crudely drawn dick pics, which he made sure to pocket because they were hilarious and he had a collection already. Don't fucking judge a man for his hobbies. Eventually he gave two teens detention for asking if the nurse could give them a demonstration of proper female condom usage.

Negan leaned against the desk watching the petite woman erase the chalkboard, her ass swishing with every swipe of her hand. He chewed his lip to contain the groan when she bent over to pick up a paper airplane.

"Fucking assholes." Negan grunted at the sight.

The chuckle she released extinguished his irritation at the little animals disobeying him, but the pointy paper flying towards his face had him growling again. Smacking it away, he wagged a finger at her. "You could've poked my eye out."

"Don't be a baby."

"You should know better as a medical professional." Negan drawled, watching her pack her bag up.

Snorting, she glanced at him and retorted, "Well as a medical professional, I diagnosis you as being full of shit."

Huffing out a laugh, Negan swaggered towards her, his eyes trailing down her body. "That's some foul language for a lady."

Biting her lip, she watched him approach with wary eyes. "I should go."

"Why's that? You got somewhere to be?"

"I have stuff to do."

"Like what?" He asked, reaching out to tuck a wild strand of red hair behind her ear. Negan watched the flush rise up her cheeks, highlighting the sprinkle of freckles across her nose.

"Paperwork."

"Well, fuck. Why didn't you say so, that's sounds really fucking important." He deadpanned, flashing her cocky grin.

"Shush." She muttered at his teasing, her lips pursed to keep the smile from her face.

"You know what I told you about shushing me." He rasped, leaning closer to get another whiff of her delectable smell.

"Stop being a pervert." She huffed, while trying to leave the classroom. Negan could tell she didn't want to leave but was embarrassed at the conversation. Grasping her wrist loosely, Negan drawled, "It's part of my charm."

"It's not very charming."

"Yet you like me."

"I don't like you."

"I find me attractive."

"So."

"So you do?"

"Jesus, obviously your good looking." She growled, pulling at his grasp but only barely. "It's your mouth that's the turn off. Now let me go."

"Doll, you haven't even let me use my mouth on you. Believe me, it is not a turn off." He drawled, reeling her closer to murmur into her ear. "Let me show you, just how good I am with my mouth."

Negan watched her swallow thickly, her eyes flicking to his before dropping to his lips. Swiping his tongue across the bottom one, Negan could see her resolve crumbling as his thumb stroked the delicate skin below her wrist.

"Come on, sweetheart." He rasped, tugging her closer to brush his lips against her temple. "You know you want to."

"What happened to no means no." She muttered, her eyes still glued to his mouth.

"You haven't said no." He replied, a smirk tugging at his lips when she rolled her eyes. "Keep rolling those pretty little peepers of yours and their bound to roll right out of your pretty little head."

"So you think I'm pretty?" She mocked him for his pestering earlier.

"I think you're fucking gorgeous." Negan drawled, reeling her into his chest and cupping her face. "and I think you want me to kiss you, as bad as I want too."

He watched her lick her lip, subconsciously readying herself for what was about to happen. Leaning forward, Negan kissed her softly, plucking at her soft pink lips as she began to sink into his chest and hands. Soon the kiss deepened and he got to taste every sweet corner of her pliable mouth.

Pulling away for a breath, Negan drawled, "You still need to go do paperwork?"

"What paperwork?" she rasped, her eyes dark and mouth swollen.

"Exact-fucking-ly." He growled, nipping her bottom lip before pulling away. Smirking when she pouted at his sudden retreat, Negan wandered to the classroom door and flipped the lock to make sure they weren't interrupted by some nosy asshole. Negan wasn't going to let the opportunity pass and he sure as fuck wasn't going to let some moron wander in an ruin his chances of burying his bone in the hottest piece of ass in the tri-county area.

As he headed back towards her, Negan took in her heavy breathing and flushed skin. She was more than gorgeous, she was beautiful and the longer Negan looked her over the more he began to notice.

"You really are beautiful, you know that?" he rasped, the grit in his voice causing shivers to run through her body.

"I.."

"You're a typical woman huh? Don't know how hot you are."

"I just don't see myself that way."

"Well let me show you how fucking attractive I think you are." he growled, his hands laying heavily on her hips as they shuffled towards the desk.

Backing her up against the table top, Negan couldn't stop his hands from gripping every square inch within reaching distance. Her ass filled one hand, as the other cupped her face and neck. He rolled his hips against her, pressing her into the hard surface.

"Goddamn, you are so sexy." He growled as her hands yanked him closer by a handful of shirt.

"We shouldn't do this here."

"No, we shouldn't." He rumbled, his mouth dipping to her neck as he kissed and sucked a hot path along the skin. "But we're going to and we're going to enjoy the fuck out of it."

Slowly unbuttoning the sweater she wore, Negan groaned as he found the lacy camisole below it. The silky fabric barely hid the soft curves of her breasts, the delicate bra underneath pushing them up and together. Dipping his face into the warm cleavage, he licked and sucked on the exposed curves.

"I want to die face down in this titties." He growled, nipping the flesh as her sweater and cami was shed. His hands stroked her skin and massaged her hips and ass, nothing was enough. Negan wanted to touch everything and everywhere, all at once.

"Negan." She moaned as his hand pulled her bra down enough to tongue at her exposed nipple.

"Yeah, baby girl." He growled, brushing his teeth across the puckered skin. "You like it when I touch you?"

"Yes." She hissed as he tugged on her nipple sharply.

"Good girl." He drawled, before ordering, "Turn around."

The little redhead seemed confused at first but surprisingly followed his directions. Humming at the sight of her pale back and the tight skirt that still highlighted her decadent ass, Negan gripped both her hips and pulled her flush against his groin.

"You want this, darlin'?"

"Yeah." She moaned as he ground his dick against her center from behind. "Enough talking about it."

"You telling me to shush again, doll?"

Glancing over her shoulder she murmured, "Maybe, what'll you do if I am?"

"Fuck." Negan rasped, snapping his hips against her, while pressing her into the hard surface. Dipping his head into the curve of her neck, Negan kissed and nipped his way to her ear before whispering, "I think I'm going to have to show you how talented my mouth is. Maybe you'll stop telling me to shut up."

Pulling the chair over, Negan took a seat to bring him at eye level to her ass and hips. Glancing over her shoulder with wide eyes, she muttered, "What're you doing?"

Negan smirked as he slowly pushed her skirt up and over her ass, exposing the fuck-hot thigh highs and garters he knew lie below. The soft curve of her ass was covered in lacy panties that had him practically drooling at the sight of the damp fabric.

"Fucking hell." He growled, leaning forward to take a bite out of the soft flesh. The squeak she emitted at the sharp nip had him laugh gruffly, his teeth flashing bright as she scowled back at him.

"Aww, don't be like that darlin'."

"Are you going to just tease me or are you-." her words were choked on when he grabbed her panties and tore them off leaving her stockings and garter in place.

"Hey!" she exclaimed before moaning lowly as he brushed his thumbs across her wet core. Negan growled deeply as the pads of his fingers slid effortlessly through the wet lips.

"Goddamn, sweetheart. You. Are. Soaked."

"Fuck." She gasped as his tongue took a long swipe up her center, as he spread her open.

"That's very unladylike." He rumbled behind her with a chuckle, his eyes taking in the flushed skin and trembling thighs.

"Does anything about this seem very ladylike right now?" She asked, squirming in front of him waiting for more.

"Touché." He grunted before diving in face first into the tastiest pussy he'd ever had. Twirling his tongue through the quivering lips, Negan sucked a delicious pattern over her hood, while plunging a finger inside her clenching walls.

Her moans urged him on, his eyes flicking up her body to see her face pressed into the desk with clenched eyes and parted mouth. He growled deeply as she ground back into his mouth, her body begging for him to make it cum.

"Like that?" he rasped, while inserting two fingers into the tight little core begging for more. Plunging them in and out, while sucking on her swollen clit, Negan listened to her moan and sigh, her eyes fluttering open to watch him from over her shoulder.

"Do you?" he asked again, licking her arousal from his lips as he worked her over with his fingers.

Nodding she murmured, "Yes."

"You wanna cum on my loud mouth huh?" 

"Yes." She moaned, her head thrown back as he sucked her clit deep into his mouth, while fingering her quickly. "Please."

Growling like a wild animal, Negan kept his pace hard and fast as she began to shudder and shake below his mouth. Soon she pushing back onto his fingers, grinding her pussy against his face greedily. He couldn't get enough of her taste and scent, the man rutting his face into her folds deeper and hard.

"Oh fuck." She moaned, her head thrown back as she came long and hard all over his tongue and lips. He felt her walls fluttering and squeezing his plunging fingers as he continued to lick and suck her sensitive hood and clit.

When all that was left were spasms and mewling, Negan gave her core one more long flat tongue swipe, before smirking at her flustered, sweaty state.

Slowly he unbuckled his pants, his hands moving efficiently and precisely, as she watched him with hazy eyes.

"You like that baby?" he asked, stroking his impossibly hard dick, while looking over the wet core still dripping in front of him.

"Yeah."

"You want me to put this inside you?"

Panting at his question, the redhead nodded shyly at the question but wiggled her hips enticingly. Humming deeply at the sight, Negan stroked his cock with a tight fist before reaching into the desk to grab a condom. After rolling it down, Negan drawled, "You wanna sit on my lap, nurse?"

Smirking, she began to turn around but Negan grabbed her hips and growled, "Stay like that."

Lowering her onto his lap, while she faced away, Negan watched his dick slowly slid inside her. Gripping her hips, Negan set an easy pace of her tight ass rising and falling onto his lap. Stroking a hand up her spine, Negan plucked the hooks of her bra, allowing the material to fall from her chest. Sliding his hands up her waist, Negan circled them to cup her soft breasts, squeezing them and plucking at her nipples as she rose and fell onto his dick.

Negan bit into her shoulder as she continued to grind on his lap, circling her hips as he lost himself inside the feel of her.

"Fuck, doll." He growled his mouth sucking on the sweet flesh behind her ear, his breath hot and heavy against her neck. "You feel so amazing."

"Negan." She gasped, her hand raising to clutch a handful of the hair at the back of his neck.

"You gonna cum on my dick, sweetheart?" he asked, his hips rolling off the seat to impale her deeper, while he slid one hand to stroke her clit and his other to twist her perky tit. "Fuck I can feel you. You're so damn close." 

"I wanna." She moaned, her hips squirming under the weight of his heavy arm as he flicked her hood with two fingers.

"I'll take care of you, baby." Negan cooed, before rising to pin her to the desktop in front of her. Grasping her hips, Negan began rocking his hips into her sopping core until his pace became quick and sharp. The snap of flesh against flesh was almost drowned out by the heavy panting they both expelled, but nothing suppressed the screech of the table legs moving across the worn linoleum. Negan growled as she squeezed and clutched at him, her nails clawing at his thighs and forearms.

"Taking it so good, baby." He purred, his hips snapping into her ass while she moaned. "Now cum."

The sight of her head thrown back and her ass arched to let him sink as far as humanly possible, had Negan breathless. He watched with seized lungs as the beautiful woman below him came with a long string of curse words belonging to a sailor. Nothing had ever been so hot and no one had ever cum so hard on his dick before. Negan was blown away by the pure unadulterated lust he saw in her eyes when she peered at him over her flushed sweaty shoulder.

"Fu-ck." He grunted as her lips flexed and quivered around his dick, the deep hollow almost refusing his retreat with every thrust. "Damn, doll. Your kitten won't let go."

"Sit." She rasped huskily, her hands pushing against his hips.

Negan obeyed, if only because his legs felt like they were about to buckle under the weight of his aching dick. As he did, he watched the woman removing her skirt, leaving her in nothing but a garter, stockings and high heels, turn around to face him. Negan let his eyes drift over her scantily clad body, his pupils probably dilated to the point of no return, as he focused on the cleft between her damp thighs.

"That answer one of my questions." He grumbled, his lip pulled between his teeth, as she swayed her curvy shape towards him. The swish of her hips and bounce of her breasts had to be the sexiest thing Negan had ever seen.

"Which was?"

"If you were a real redhead." He replied, flashing her the cheeky grin he knew pulled her trigger.

Biting that plump bottom lip, he would kill for, to suck on, she murmured, "And that's a good thing?"

"Fuck yes it is." He growled, pulling her onto his lap to get closer to the hot little fire crotch.

Negan's eyes rolled back in his skull, as she sunk onto his aching dick, the tight lips engulfing him like a second skin. His hands move long soft sweeps across her body, rough fingertips tracing every curve and dip to her body. He couldn't get enough of the otherworldly material that claimed to be her skin. He'd never felt anything so seductive, as her muscles moving under his palms, as she rolled and rocked her tight light body onto his.

Negan groaned when she began rising and falling with a quicker pace, her hands raking through his hair to grabbed two handfuls at the back of his skull. Pulling it, the fiery woman in his lap kissed him deeply, while circling and grinding her hips against his. All he could do was clutch onto her ass and tits while she had another orgasm from riding his dick. He swallowed her guttural moans as he plunged into her with more force and focus.

After a particularly tight clench from the delectable body atop his, Negan's control broke. Throwing his head back, a forceful moan was torn from his throat, as he rocked his hips off the chair and into the tight little nurse pistoning on his lap. He could feel her quivering and trembling around his dick and under his hands. Pressing his face into her neck, Negan swirled and rolled his hips into her spread thighs, his dick pulsing and throbbing into the hot core. He couldn't see for a solid minute, his vision black from hyperventilating like some virgin sinking his first boner.

Stroking her skin, Negan cupped her breasts and kissed her neck and jaw. He could feel her sinking into his touch, the softness of her surrounding him as she nuzzled into his neck.

'Could fucking get used to this.' He thought while squeezing her ass with both hands as he placed open mouth kisses along her cleavage and neck.

"That's the most thorough check up I've had all year, Nurse Andrews." He muttered, a smile breaking out as she rolled her pretty blue eyes at him.

Combing a hand through his mussed hair, the little redhead replied, "We've slept together, Negan. I think you can drop the formality now."

"Sounds fucking good to me, darlin'." he drawled, smirking up at her. "So… when can we do this again, Lucille?"

"Who said anything about this happenin' again?" She quipped.

"Oh, doll…. Didn't I tell you? You're my girl now."

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12761404/1/Birds-and-Bees

[brooklynislandgirl]

@mynameisanakin {before}

If only she were privy to the thoughts that follow his answer he would see in her eyes a spark of radiance that comes from pleasure, proud of the intuitive leaps that his mind makes, and exactly the last word, because Life is one of the pattern magicks. But she can’t and so the light that seeps into her face is one part sun making its way through the kitchen window, and two her own meandering fancy about why he would choose the word. For a moment her gaze dips down to the cat, who seems quite content to avail himself of Anakin’s lap. She hasn’t quite gotten to be so close a friend with Bug, not yet at any rate, and a large part of her misses Houdini, whom she has on good authority is living his best, fat and pampered life with Uncle Lewis. There were new sets of photos in her email just yesterday.

Her gaze flickers back up, wanting to catch whatever else he might have to say, and every line of her is written with fondness.

Mornings like these, when the clinic is closed and they can technically sit for breakfast for hours with the sun shining down on them and without a care in the world ~which is deceptively untrue, she and Anakin have the capacity to care so very much that it can be stifling~ are a specific kind of balm. Soothing frayed nerves, serving to reconnect, and of course, the worship of cats. Who are most certainly not his. The slow curl of the tip of Bug’s tail in tune with the deep and gentle ruffle of Anakin’s fingers. Therapeutic, too, for both of them.

“Of course,” she reassures him when she can feel the self-deprecation start to creep its way into his tone. He hides it well behind that little smile but Beth is far too familiar with it to completely ignore, much as he might want her to.

She starts to top off his cup from the French press between them when he throws his word into the ring. He’s having a hard time getting it out despite being so very careful and almost anyone’s instinct would be to rush in. To correct, to enunciate. She doesn’t. Mostly because that’s something else she is entirely too familiar with. Everyone ~save Anakin~ at least once or twice tends to correct her speech or her grammar. Rushes her along when she’s frustrated and doing her best to speak Haole. Failing miserably because her tongue doesn’t want to shape the words that way or because she’s misheard or misunderstood what had been said to her, like the nearly millions of songs that she doesn’t get quite right but likes to sing along with. So she isn’t going to do that to him, poke at his best efforts with shame, because her own thoughts are too valuable real-estate to bother with his. And truth be told? She likes the way he says it. There’s something pure to the way his mouth moves, in the slight pauses that can almost be overlooked if you aren’t paying the strictest intention, the tonal musicality to it. Truth be told, she could probably sit there and listen to Anakin reading the ingredients of a tube of tooth-paste and be content. 

She doesn’t say that though. Things like that tend to embarrass people, especially when reading aloud is not their strong suit and she never wants Anakin to feel self-conscious around her if she can avoid it.

She does wonder though what brings it on, and from what corner of his thoughts does he drags it out from because it can be taken so many ways. From trashy vampire novels that all seem to like to be set in the City, and particularly the Quarter, to rather pointed mention of her Tradition and it’s association with blood as inexorable perhaps as the idea of nature and wildlife, to...some darker and likely more devastating morass of psychological woe. Anakin isn’t as bright a soul as he could be, but Beth isn’t necessarily fearful of those slivers of shadow that run right through him. Nor does she think it’s inherently evil. As long as he can maintain balance, with or without help, then she has no reason to fear.

His eyes close. And in that moment, she lets naked affection reside in her own. The patient and gentle curiosity, the sweetness of her appreciation for everything he is, although maybe Bug won’t be so indulgent if his fingers tighten any more.

“Oh, good word,” she murmurs. Doesn’t applaud his efforts and bring more attention to them, but that was nearly perfect, as far as she can tell, and she nods, following up with, “Okay, Okay, Okay.”

A breath, a stillness, and then she’s trailing her gaze out the window and into the back lawn, past the lanai. 

“Nourish.”

Exsanguinate of course means to drain blood from an animal or a person, or even an organ. It puts her in mind firstly of sacrifice for the good of the community. The way kings were bound to their lands in the Mythic age, so that the life of one was reflected in the other. And sometimes the need to give everything ~including hearts-blood~ to make sure that it remained so. It put Beth in mind of justice, when someone’s deeds were so heinous that the only value left them was to give forth. It also puts Beth in mind of passion. The sharing of one’s most vital fluid, their living self, in a ritual of bonding...and biting. Or in easily healed slits through skin. Or...

Her face flushes without realisation, and her breath catches on the cusp of her lips.

There’s so many reasons for the act, a hundred different emotions that might be attached to it, but they all boil down to the most basic of human needs. To provide. Feed. To encourage growth and good health or condition. And what is that, if not love made manifest?

There’s something unreadable in her expression when she offers him the next word. “Nirvana.”

[screenwritingdyke]

Jackson/Stiles. Ghost hunters AU?

i had something much longer and much more elaborate planned for this but i ended up only getting a little bit done rtuhfjks

“I thought you said this was a fake haunting,” Jackson growled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I said I thought it was a fake haunting,” Stiles said.  A couch came flying toward them and Stiles shielded him with his body.  “Obviously I was wrong.”

“No fucking shit.”  Jackson glared at the couch, then at Stiles, and then toward where the couch had flung at them.  “How the hell do you confuse erratic children’s behavior with a poltergeist?”

Stiles huffed as he stood up and held his hand out to Jackson to help him up.  “Shut up and help me deal with this thing.”

Jackson took his hand and pulled himself up and brushed off his jeans.  “You’re lucky I love you.”  A lamp came crashing down at their feet and the lights in the kitchen began flickering.

Stiles looked over at him with a daring grin and began rifling through his backpack.  He tossed a book toward Jackson and picked up a bottle with a cross on it for himself.  “Love you too, baby.  I got the holy water and you can recite the Bible verses.”

Jackson rolled his eyes and flipped to the bookmarked page.  “How does this even work if neither of us are religious?”

Stiles shrugged and started flicking holy water on the walls.  “I think it’s a mix of your aggression and the holy water,” he said.

“So you’re saying that I’m the reason our ghost hunting business is so successful.”

Stiles looked over at him to see Jackson giving him a shit-eating grin and he rolled his eyes.  “You’re so full of yourself.”

Jackson just laughed in response.

He followed Stiles around the house reciting the Bible verses as Stiles flicked the holy water.  Within a few hours, the activity finally began to settle down and both of them felt like a weight had just been lifted off of their chests.

“Is it over?”

Jackson paused for a few moments and glanced around with his wolf eyes.  “I think so.  At least for now.”

Stiles let out a small, happy sigh and grabbed his backpack off of the floor.  “Alright, then.  Another successful haunting de-haunted.  Way to go us.”  He held his hand up to Jackson, who begrudgingly gave him a high five.

“We’ll meet up with the family tomorrow and tell them to call us if anything else happens,” Jackson said.  “At the very least, they’re safe for now.”

Stiles shoved the holy water and Bible back into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.  “I’ll grab the cameras and you grab the EMF reader from the kitchen?”

“Works for me.”

“Good.  What do you say we celebrate with a couple of beers and some cheese curds?” Stiles asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Jackson smiled and shook his head and said, “You can have the beer.  I’ll have a glass of red wine.”

“Sounds good to me, baby.”  Stiles wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed his cheek.  “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

Jackson wrapped his arm around Stiles and leaned against him.  “No.  We make the best team.”

thanks for reading!read on ao3send me a prompt

[meteora-writes]

Carousel

@reisar asked for a darker, more angsty AU fic where Troy and Nick meet in a mental institution and become friends. I freaking love this idea and am more than happy to write it, especially after they made me such epic art for my series The Trick To Being Happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Paring: Troy Otto x Nick Clark friendship (implied pre-slash)

Warnings: Mental Health Disorders, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Selective Mutism, Angst, Nick is Manic Depressive, Troy has BPD

Authors Notes: So I got a little inspiration from the song Carousel by Linkin Park, more specifically the second verse. I feel like the first half othe song would be about Gloria, and the second half is Nick.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Nick stuffed his hands into his pockets as he slowly walked down the long hallways that led to group therapy. The doctors had decided when he was admitted the night before that he needed to talk about what happened, and since he wouldn't open up in one-on-one therapy at rehab, they thought group therapy was worth a try here.

Manic-depressive with self-destructive tendencies and suicidal ideation.

The diagnosis didn't surprise him, but what they said after about the family history of suicide, that had. He'd always suspected his dad killed himself. But actually hearing that suspicion confirmed aloud was something he apparently wasn't ready for as it made him shut down further.

The truth of Nick's situation was, he didn't want to talk about what he'd been through. He didn't want to think about it either. He would rather go shoot up and follow Glo if he was lucky (or unlucky) enough.  

Even if he did talk, and get 'better', it would all be a bunch of bullshit. He'd get out, things would still be the same. Glo would still be gone, his mom would still guilt him about everything, and his perfect little sister would look at him with the same disdain as always, and he'd still be the lost boy trying to find his way in a world he wasn’t made for.

So, he didn’t talk. And they told him he didn't have to now, but he would eventually.

As he walked into the brightly lit room, he saw a few other patients milling about. A few in wood and vinyl arm chairs that sat in a circle. The others stood about and looked out the windows, sat on the floor with books, drew on the whiteboard with a dry erase marker. One girl even had wireless headphones and what looked like an iPod as they sat curled up in the corner watching everyone else by the girl who was drawing.

Nick took a seat by a guy who looked about his age, maybe a few years old. He had slightly curly light brown hairs and a slim build under his white t-shirt and baggy sweat pants. His head was tilted down as he read a book. When Nick tilted his own head, he could see it was a science text on biology. A college level book at that.

With a sigh he slouched in his seat and pulled his hood up over his head before stuffing his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie.  A few minutes later the doctor leading the session came in and everyone got seated.

"Alright, who would like to get the ball rolling today?" The doctor, a middle aged brunette woman with glasses and a ponytail, asked, clicking her pen and getting ready to take notes.

The man who had been reading beside Nick snorted and closed his book loudly before dropping it on the floor at his feet with a resounding thud.

"Don't be rude, Troy." The doctor chided gently, giving him a tired look.

The guy, Troy, just crossed his arms over his chest and slouched back in his seat with his legs spread wide in a similar pose to Nick's. When he remained silent the doctor asked again and the girl who'd been listening to music earlier raised a hand before starting to speak softly.

Nick half listened to the other patients as they talked about their feelings and problems. He wasn't sure how much time passed, but eventually the doctor asked Troy how he was doing today, and the man laughed.

"What about the new guy, he doesn't have to talk? You always make the new ones talk first." Troy said, giving Nick a look of distrust.

"Nick went through a recent trauma and has been selective about speaking. He's excused from talking for now if he doesn't want to. Now, would you care to tell us how you're doing?" The doctor asked, scribbling away at her notepad.

"You know me, doc. Still angry at my brother and sick of being here." He said easily as he leaned forward to pick up his discarded book from the floor.

"Have you talked to Jake since he came to see you last week?" One of the other patients asked. Her name was Laura, and she was the one who had been drawing flowers on the whiteboard when Nick walked in.

Troy snorted a laugh at the question. "He called last night. Tried to talk me into selling my share of the ranch again. I told him to go to hell. I don't care what he wants, I intend to go back and run the place when I get out of here." He said the last part resolutely.

"Are you sure that's wise, Troy? You spent the majority of your time there being turned into a soldier for your father's paranoid delusions. Going back might not be wise for your recovery." The doctor suggested, never pausing in her note taking.

"Living and working on that ranch is the only life I know, doc. I don't even have a high school diploma. No way I'd be able to get any kind of decent job without one. And with this god damned mental disorder I've been stamped with no way I could join the army or do anything else I have any interest in. There's nothing else for me." Troy argued.

"Alright, Troy, we'll discuss this further in our private session tomorrow. I think this has been enough for today. Why don't you all go about your free time now and we'll meet back here in two days." The doctor said as she closed her notebook and moved to stand.

When Nick moved to stand as well, Troy bumped shoulders with him unintentionally. They traded looks, but neither said anything as they moved to leave the room.  

Over the next few day's Nick ran into Troy a few times outside of group therapy, but the other man ignored him. He sort of made friends with Laura (she kept drawing him flowers and taping them to the wall of his room when he was in there) and Maggie (the girl with the headphones).  

Both girls would sit with him, and rather than try to make him talk, they talked to each other or just sat silently and did their own thing. It actually helped him feel better than any medication or therapy session had so far.

At breakfast on the fifth day into his hospitalization, Maggie put her headphones on Nick's ears when he was zoned out and put her iPod in his hands. She told him he looked like he needed it more than she did at the moment, and that she'd just get it back before one of them was discharged. The smile she gave him when he thanked her was the first he'd seen from her the whole 5 days he'd known her.

When Nick walked into group therapy with the headphones around his neck, Troy perked up from his scribbling in a notebook with a red crayon to give him a questioning look. "You like music, Nicky?"

Nick just blinked owlishly at him and gave a shrug before taking his seat beside Troy.

"If you don't like music, why do you have Maggie's headphones?" Troy asked, leaning forward to look at Nick around the edge of his hood.

"She said I looked like I needed them." Nick said in a low voice. He had the feeling that Troy wouldn't leave him alone if he didn't answer.

"He speaks! It's a god damn miracle! What's next, you gonna walk on water for us?" Troy said loudly with a grin, looking around the room at the other disinterested patients. The only one that seemed to be paying attention was Laura, who looked up from her scribbling on the whiteboard to smile at Nick from across the room.

Nick just shook his head and slouched down in his seat to wait for everyone else to arrive and the session to start.

Once everyone was seated the doctor looked to Nick first. "Nick, it's your third session with the group. I think it's time you share a little." She said, tone gentle and reassuring.

Nick cleared his throat and shifted around in his seat uncomfortably. He knew he'd have to speak eventually, and he fucking hated it. "I'm here because I'm a junkie and I had a breakdown when my girlfriend died of an overdose when we were both using about two weeks ago." He said, eyes locked on a scratch on the tile floor before him.

A few people gasped at Nick's words. Whether from his content of the statement or the fact that he was actually speaking was anyone's guess.

"And how have you been feeling since you got here?" The doctor asked, trying to coax him to say more.

"Well, I feel like shit from detoxing. But the carousel keeps turning, can't get off till it stops." Nick said, trying to avoid his actual feelings.

"Anything else?" She asked, taking notes rapidly.

Nick heaved a sigh and let his head fall back against his chair as he slouched down further. "I feel lost." He found himself admitted, hating how gravely his voice was from lack of use. "I don't know what people expect me to do here."

"Well, Nick, we expect nothing. What we hope is that you'll open up and let us help you learn to cope with everything you've been through as well as learn to manage your condition." The doctor said, tone still calm and assuring.

A somewhat manic chuckle escaped Nick's lips at that. "Yeah, because learning to handle being manic-depressive on top of being a junkie is so easy."

"No one ever said mental health was an easy thing to learn to maintain, Nick. It's a battle. Every day. That's why we're all here. To fight that battle together and help you all find the strength to keep fighting on your own when you leave this place."

This time it was Troy that chuckled, drawing Nick's gaze away from the doctor. "You should make that info a motivational poster."

"Or one of those self-help tapes that people buy at gas stations." Nick suggested as he pulled his hood down to look at Troy, earning a grin and another laugh from the other man.

"I think we can be friends now." Troy said, still smiling at Nick.

The doctor cleared her throat as she continued to take notes. "Alright, let's move on. Who'd like to speak share next?"

Another patient started talking and Nick glanced at them briefly before glancing back to Troy, who was still smiling at him before opening his notebook back up and starting to write again with his red crayon.

After therapy was over Troy grabbed Nick's arm and pulled him aside to talk as the others exited the room and made their way to do other things. "I meant what I said about us being friends." He said with a broad smile as he stuffed his notebook and crayon into the pocket of his black hoodie.

Nick felt the corner of his mouth quirk into a small smile of his own. He didn't respond, just turned on his heel and started walking towards the art room. Laura was going to make paper roses today and he liked to watch her work.

"Aw, come on. Don't be like that, Nicky." Troy said as he followed the younger man down the hallway. "I'll make you a deal. You talk to me, and I'll help you get out of here." He offered, now walking alongside Nick down the long hallway.

Nick snorted a laugh at that and kept walking.

"I'm serious." Troy said, placing a hand on Nicks shoulder and making him stop to face him.

"Look, Troy, thanks for the offer, but I've got it under control. I don't need help." Nick said with a tired sigh.  

"Alright, then, just talk to me? I'm not gonna psycho analyze you like the rest. You and me, I think we got a lot in common." He said as he let go of Nicks shoulder and gave him and almost sheepish look.  

Nick rolled his eyes at that. "What makes you so sure of that?"

"We're both the black sheep of the family. We both got put here for having breakdowns. And I've got a feeling we're both not looking forward to what's waiting for us when we get out of here." Troy wagered, taking a step into Nick's personal space.

Taking a moment to consider Troy's words, Nick shrugged and went to put Maggie's headphones over his ears. "Alright. I'm gonna watch Laura make flowers. You coming?" He asked before turning away to continue on to the art room.

Troy grinned and followed after him without hesitation.

A month later Troy was the first one to be released. He came back every other day to visit Nick and a few weeks later when the younger man was about to be released, Troy invited him to live on the ranch, and Nick said yes.

[hearthouses]

6, 11, 16

6) Which yet-to-be-started fic is first on your list?

I have a lot of ideas, but I think the one my heart is most set upon is the Seth/Richie post-s3 fic that is a slightly AU take of the the finale, giving Seth an injury and having Richie been in Xibalba a lot longer (in Xibalba time), and focuses on the trauma of the overall season and the toll war can take, and where they go from there after their “el rey” had been taken from them and they need to figure out who they are now. I just want to take what the show gave us and fix it to suit what themes the season was trying to convey (but failed at). But I’ve been too nervous to start it and I keep kicking myself so I’m hoping this year is the year.

11) Would you like to try any new fanfic genres or tropes in 2018?

Honestly, nothing is really coming to mind. Like, I’d like to challenge myself and try new things, but also just completing my ideas is mainly the goal for this year. But I guess I would love to finish and complete versions of my long verses based on tropes, like my arranged marriage AU for Vanessa/Seth/Richie that is also kind of a mob family AU or my A/B/O verse for Seth/Richie. I am also interested in playing with all these tropey things I’ve come up with but haven’t actually tackled beyond chat brainstorming with you, lol. 

16) Do you have that one fanfic that you wrote a ton for, ages ago, but never posted? Will this be the year, come hell or high water, that it WILL get finished and posted?

I have so many of these. Like so fucking many, it’s sad. I don’t think any of the ones from previous fandoms like Les Mis or The Vampire Diaries or A Song of Ice and Fire are getting posted (though, they’re all extreme AUs so I might file off the serial numbers and work on as original works through heavy editing and more writing), but there are quite a few From Dusk Till Dawn sprawling documents I would like to find a point and purpose for and eventually post. There is my epic pre-series Seth/Richie saga, my pre-series Richie/Vanessa fic set when Seth is in prison, an AU where Vanessa crosses into Mexico with the Geckos, a few Kisa/Richie/Seth fics, many many Seth/Richie AUs, but mostly post-S2 and post-S3 fix it fics are the most clear.