#I can’t believe I haven’t drawn Darius before

[pincushionx]

hello! out of curiosity, would it be possible for a witch with healing magic to let Hunter, i don’t know, bite a part of their hand off, and then just regenerate it with their magic? i’m not sure if that would defeat the plot of the au as Hunter would freely be able to chomp on someone, haha!

.

Actually they can! However it’s incredibly limiting. This method would only allow Hunter to get surface level meat. He also need organs, deep tissue, bone, ect. Also while healing magic can do all sorts of wonders and I’m sure could regenerate limbs and flesh depending on how talented the healer is. I doubt they would find someone genuine that’s would be willing to do such a thing and at a frequent rate, especially when he starts eating more and actually developing healthy eating habits. I’m sure one of his family members would be happy to do this but Hunter would never allow it. Id imagine it also be a much longer medical procedure than him simply being able to bite chunks out since that would literally him mutilating someone alive lol, even with the help of numbing or pain relief potions.

The amount of food shown would have been perfect for Hunter a few years ago but now with lots of love and healthy habits being put upon him, it’s no longer sustainable. But what healing witches can provide is blood!

Blood is a good alternative for when he’s unable to have meat so I’d imagine he’d be pretty stocked up on it. He gets frequent refills on blood, it’s also slightly more socially acceptable to have as I’d imagine blood being a regular part of some demons and those suffering from vampirism diets. I’d think most people would assume Hunter is a vampire if they don’t know about the grimwalker situation. So he takes blood bags with him on the go as food.

Of course he needs actual food and lots of it as he’s pretty malnourished and has lots of catching up to do. As well as developing healthy eating habits.

He eventually gets a pass that allows him to eat bits of bodies that aren’t being used, that where donated. So if a bunch of healer students are dissecting a cadaver, Hunter is cleanup. Or if organs are given for a transplant, Hunter could eat what wasn’t used. Obviously this disturbs Hunter but it’s better than going feral and attacking people. Of course it was a bit difficult to obtain pass but with the right strings pulled and some light threats, he was able to get it.

All these images are post canon in the Au. For the amount of pain and suffering inflected upon Hunter for the majority of this Au, I do want him to have a happy ending. While there are tragic alternatives, him having a happy ending was always my intention. While it be more difficult to reach than in canon, he gets there eventually :3

(Feel free to ask some questions but do note it may take a bit of time to answer, I already have some questions waiting rn lol)

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Part Thirty-One

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/n: Trigger warning: Karma is a bitch. Careful what you wish for :3c

Death kinda sucked.

One moment everything hurt, and Lev was trying to talk. Cameron wanted him to talk, and he hated to let Cameron down. He clung to the sound of Cameron’s voice, to Nik’s in the front seat. Nik- Nik had come too, even after Lev had walked out.

And then it stopped. Everything stopped.

There was no way to control it, and he hated it, hated watching Amara and Nik yelling at each other, hated watching Ash try to pull him back. Guilt tore through Lev. This wasn’t the first time Ash had healed him- it wasn’t Ash’s fault he couldn’t save Lev. He should have held on longer.

This was all his fault.

He stumbled back, and found himself on the porch. He looked around desperately; there was nothing he could do, and so much was going on. He caught Nate’s eye, and froze. Could- could Nate see him?

“Help them,” he blurted, desperate. “I’m sorry. Help them. Please. I can’t.”

It was a terrifying relief to see Nate nod at him. So he could see Lev. Lev sank down on the porch steps, lowering his head in his hands. It was very strange to have a panic attack and not have a body to panic with.

When he looked up again, the yard was empty, save Amara, curled in the back seat, with- no. He wasn’t going to think about that. He turned around, trying to steady his nerves. Dead. He was dead. Why was he still here then. No one had told him he’d have to stay here, and watch this.

He didn’t even have to open the front door. He started to push on it, and slid right through it. After a moment of shock, he wandered deeper, following the source of his distress, one he couldn’t explain why it dragged him through the house like a fish hooked on a fishing line. He stopped in the kitchen doorway, watching Nik go at a bottle of alcohol like a man dying of thirst.

“Nik, no,” Lev said softly, dropping to his knees beside him. When he reached for the bottle, his fingers went right through Nik’s. He watched a shudder go through Nik, and withdrew, looking down at his hands. They looked the same, but he couldn’t touch anything.

Once again he stumbled away. If this was death, death was hell. He couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t help, and he felt more useless than when he was alive.

So, like he had earlier that day, he fled. He didn’t know where to go, but he couldn’t watch Nik drink himself into the floor when he couldn’t fucking help.

The world bent around him, blurring on the edges as he leaned against a wall, breathing hard. Why was he even breathing? Did he need to? What kind of hell had he found himself in?

By the time he calmed down enough his vision didn’t crinkle black, the house was eerily quiet. When he looked outside, the sky was dark. How much time had he lost to his panic? Nik wasn’t in the kitchen when he checked, and the halls were empty save the angel sentries, and they didn’t bat an eye when he walked past.

“Lev. Over here.”

Nate. That was Nate. Lev whipped around, blinking at Nate. Nate could see him, and Lev clung to that, appearing at Nate’s side in a second. He blinked again, surprised. There’d been no attempt to move on his part.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, taking a step back just to be polite.

“Come with me,” was all Nate said.

Anxiety thrummed through Lev, though once again he noted it was odd to have the feeling but none of the physical reactions to it. He followed after Nate silently, into a room full of art supplies. Nate settled on a stool next to an easel, swiveling enough to look at Lev again.

In a very somber voice, Nate said, “You can move on if you want to. They’ll be okay.”

Lev’s mind whirled. “Move- Move on?” He asked numbly. “What do you mean?”

“You don't have to stay here, watching them, in the in-between. You can move on.”

Lev wrapped his arms around himself, trying to process that. “But they need me,” he said. “They’re- Nik’s a mess. Mar- I want to help. I wasn’t supposed- This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“How can you help?” Nate asked gently.

“I don’t- I don’t know.” Lev ran his hands through his hair, trying not to panic again. “I don’t know. But they don’t know what they’re doing, and I- I was only supposed to be gone a day.”

Nate considered that. “They’re resilient. They can figure it out.” He paused. “If it matters, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry this happened to you. You didn’t deserve it. But you do deserve peace.”

It’s my fault, Lev thought. And he couldn’t even cry about it. “I shouldn’t have gone back to that house,” he said in a small voice. “But I should have been safe in angel territory. I- I didn’t say goodbye to Nik. When I left. He- I should have said goodbye, why didn’t I say goodbye?”

To his surprise, Nate pulled him into a hug. Lev was even more freaked out by that, for a moment at least. He didn’t understand how he could touch one person but not the others, but it was too much of a relief to be able to touch something period. “Nik will be okay,” Nate was promising.

“I don’t believe you,” Lev said thickly. “He’s not okay. I can feel it.”

“He will be okay. He’s not right now, but he will be. Grief takes a lot out of him.”

Lev could barely hear him over the roaring in his ears. None of this was right. None of this was okay.

Lev should never have left home.

---

Lev wasn’t sure how long it was before he was able to focus again, but when he did, sunlight was streaming through the window, and Nate was gone. Lev doubled over, hands on his knees, and tried to soothe the remaining pieces of panic floating through his mind.

By the time he felt okay, he realized he wasn’t alone. In the corner of the room, he caught a glimpse of a tall, slender man. The tan skin and dark wavy hair was secondary to the golden gaze that pinned Lev into place, but in the next moment, the man was gone.

Unnerved, Lev backed out of Nate’s studio, wandering quickly down the halls, damn near walking through a sentry as he went. He found Nate in the kitchen, and to his surprise, Eden was there too, in a high chair. She zeroed in on Lev, much to his surprise, and shrieked, banging her hands on the tray.

Nate turned around, giving Lev a sad smile. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Lev said faintly, scooting over to Eden’s side. “Hey bitty girl,” he added softly, just to be sure.

Eden shrieked again, reaching out with both hands. Lev made a small noise of distress when he realized he couldn’t touch her.

“I’m sorry bitty girl,” he said, wishing he could cry. “I can’t.”

Eden babbled angrily at him, which only made his heart break more.

“Do you want me to pick her up?” Nate offered.

“Please,” Lev said. He backed up to give Nate room, and found his gaze drawn around the room until it settled on the man he’d seen in Nate’s studio. This time he was sitting at the table, golden gaze on them, but he didn’t say a word to Lev.

“Nate,” Lev said hesitantly. “Can you see- can you see everyone who’s died?”

Nate hummed into Eden’s hair. “That’s Darius,” he said. “Cameron’s boyfriend.”

Darius gave a small wave. “I didn’t want to be rude.”

“O-oh.” Lev bit his lip. “Sorry.”

Darius shrugged a little.

Lev switched his attention back to Nate. “Can you though?” He asked. “Like- like my parents? Fax?”

Nate looked a little sad as he shook his head. “I saw Fax for a little bit, but then he moved on too.”

“Oh,” Lev said. He looked away, slowly sinking into a chair.

“If it helps,” Nate offered, “He was happy you found someone.”

Lev tried for a smile. “I’m glad he wasn’t stuck,” he finally said, rubbing his face. “I wish I’d known he was there.”

Darius said quietly, “I wish Cameron knew I was here too.”

“Why haven’t you let him know?” Lev asked, before closing his eyes. “Stupid question. He can't see us.”

“I mean, he did kill me. It might make it a little awkward,” Darius said.

Lev stilled. “He what?”

Darius shrugged. “He thought he was trying to protect me from Destris. I’m not too bitter about it.”

After thinking on that for a few moments, Lev folded in on himself. “Having met Destris... I think I understand a little now.”

“I think Cameron was trying to avoid making the same mistake with you,” Darius replied.

“Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t,” Lev mumbled. He rubbed his face again, and then looked up at Nate. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you.” He looked down. “And I’m sorry I keep freaking out.”

Nate smiled a bit. “You died, I think you’re okay. You’re safe.”

Lev snorted. “It’s not like anything worse can happen to me.”

“Watching your loved ones is a certain kind of hell,” Darius pointed out.

Lev looked up at him, meeting his golden gaze steadily. “I’d rather know what’s happening than have it haunt me in wherever I go after this.” He swallowed, and then added, “I want to go see them.”

Darius’ mouth ticked up. “I do too.”

“How- how do we go? That’s a very long walk.”

“We don't have to walk,” Darius said.

Lev blinked hard. “Ghosts can drive?”

Darius smiled a little, and Nate snorted as he bounced Eden to keep her happy, so Lev figured he had said something very, very dumb.

“There’s a ghost thing, isn’t there?” Lev mumbled.

“Yeah, there is a ghost thing,” Darius confirmed.

Lev nodded slowly. He looked to Nate. “Can other people see me? You can. Eden can.” Can Nik?

“Infants, animals, and anyone from my family,” Nate said. “Minus Nik.”

“Oh,” Lev said quietly. “So I can’t talk to them.”

Nate smiled at him sadly. “It’s probably for the best.”

“I need to tell him I’m sorry,” Lev said, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “He needs to know I didn’t leave him.”

That same sad smile never left Nate’s face. “I know you do.”

Lev’s mouth tightened involuntarily. He looked to Darius. “How do you do it? I want to see him.”

“Think about him. His scent. His touch. How he makes you feel,” Darius explained.

That wasn’t hard. Lev needed to see him, needed it so hard, if he could feel his body his chest would have been aching with it.

And then he was standing in the doorway to Cameron’s bedroom, watching Cameron haul a very drunk Nik to bed. A glance out the window told him it was dark. That didn’t- it didn’t make sense. His attention dragged back to the bed. Cameron had stripped Nik, and Lev could smell the booze from here, which was weird, because he didn’t have a body to smell with, really.

Nik grabbed Cameron’s hand as Cameron moved to pick up the clothes from his clean floor. “Don’t leave me too,” he said, face half in his pillow. “Please.”

Lev’s heart cracked. “I’m right here, Nik,” he whispered.

“Welcome back,” Darius said from behind him, startling Lev. He twisted, staring at Darius.

“What do you mean, welcome back?” he asked.

“You went away for a little bit,” Darius said gently.

“For a little bit?” Lev echoed. “How long is a little bit?”

“A couple of days, give or take.”

“Why do I keep losing chunks of time like that?” Lev asked, distressed.

“A lot of being a ghost is tied to emotions. You’re probably shutting down, when you get overwhelmed,” Darius said.

Lev gave a half hysterical laugh. “I’ve never been calm in my life. How do I make it stop?”

Darius grabbed his face. “Focus on my face. Focus on my eyes. And breathe.”

“We’re ghosts. We don’t need to breathe,” Lev said, his voice going up an octave. But he did grab onto Darius’ elbow, sucking in one useless breath after another until he felt more settled.

“We’re ghosts,” Darius said. “We don’t need to have anxiety either. It’s a mental thing.”

Lev nodded carefully, and pulled away, looking back at Nik, who was draping himself across Cameron. He slid over to the bed, crawling up beside Nik and brushing his hand through Nik’s hair. He damn near slid through Nik, who just pressed his face into Cameron’s chest and muttered, “Tis cold,” before passing out.

Lev pulled back, wrapping his arms around his knees. When he was able to tear his gaze from Nik, he realized Darius was staring at Cameron. He recognized that look of heartbreak as if he was looking in a mirror.

“Is it always like that?” he asked. “Am I making him cold?”

Darius nodded, not taking his eyes off Cameron. “You don’t have body heat. He does.”

Lev looked back down at Nik, before stretching out beside him, careful not to touch him. “I think I’m gonna stay here for a while,” he said quietly.

---

One moment Lev was watching Nik sleep, afte Cameron had gotten up to answer a call, and the next he was standing in Nate’s kitchen. “What-?”

He zeroed in on Nate when Nate spoke. “Baylor wanted to talk to you,” he said apologetically.

Lev frowned at Bay, who was sitting at the kitchen table, a tiny little infant in his arms. “You had the baby,” Lev blurted.

“We did,” Nate said.

“What, have the baby? Yeah, we did,” Bay said. He followed Nate’s gaze to approximately where Lev was, which told Lev he definitely couldn’t see him. Somehow that was a bit of a relief.

“What does Bay want to talk about?” Lev ventured hesitantly.

“He wants to know what you want to talk about,” Nate relayed.

“You are not to tell Nik that you are a ghost,” Bay said firmly. “You will not try to reach out to him. You need to let him grieve, and pick himself back up.”

“There’s a way to do that?” Lev blurted, startled.

“He didn’t know there was a way to contact Nik,” Nate said to Bay, before looking back to Lev. “Theoretically, yes. But it would be very difficult.”

“Do you think Nik is smart enough to not risk his own life to see you?” Bay said, drawing Lev’s attention. He looked exhausted.

Lev bit his lip, chewing on it anxiously. “No,” he finally admitted. “I just... I don’t know what to do, I guess.”

After Nate relayed that, Bay looked even more tired. “I can't tell you what to do. I don’t know if I’d be able to move on either. But you need to let Nik try to find peace.”

Lev looked down. Somehow, it still killed him he couldn’t cry about this. “I’m sorry I died on your front lawn,” he finally said.

This time Nate looked pained as he passed Lev’s message along.

“I’m sure I’ll get over it,” Bay said dryly.

Lev wasn’t sure how to respond to that. In the end he just said, “I didn’t just roll over. Not like with Remi.”

This time Nate was quiet when he passed on Lev’s words. To Lev’s surprise, Bay looked satisfied and vaguely proud. “I knew you were capable of it.”

“I didn’t want him to hurt Cameron. Or Nik, or Eden,” Lev said softly. “I'd rather me than any of them.”

Bay’s knowing look after Nate once again passed on Lev’s words left Lev uncomfortable. “We protect our own,” was all Bay said.

In the end, Lev just said, “Can I go home now?”

“He wants to go home,” Nate said to Bay.

“I want you to tell me you’re not going to tell Nik,” Bay said firmly. “That you’re going to leave Nik alone.”

Lev closed his eyes, swallowing. “I won't,” he promised.

“He won't,” Nate echoed.

“Good. You can go.”

Lev didn’t need any more encouragement to blink out.

---

Lev wasn’t sure how long he got lost, or how he dragged himself out of wherever he went. At least he reappeared at home. He looked around, but other than the sentries, the halls were still and quiet. He padded through them anyway, soaking in the familiar scents. It was habit to wander into Cameron’s bedroom. Lev missed sleep.

Darius was there, curled up a little on the bed, using one of Cameron’s pillows. Lev hesitated in the doorway. Darius’ eyes were closed, but he spoke anyway. “Sometimes I like laying here. Pretending he’s still my alpha.”

“Can I join you?” Lev asked, softly.

Darius nodded. “Nik’s side is all yours.”

Lev circled the bed, crawling up carefully, as if he could wrinkle the covers. “Technically the middle of the bed is- was Nik’s. After I joined them, anyway.” He still flopped down just close enough he could bury his face in Nik’s pillow, breathing deep. The faintest scent of alcohol was twined with it, but Lev was willing to ignore that for now.

Darius rolled over, golden gaze a little lost and a little sad. “Cameron wasn’t always like this,” he said.

Lev tucked his arm beneath his head, watching Darius. “What do you mean?” He asked, unsure how else to get Darius to keep talking.

Faintly, Darius said, “He was alive. Even when his life was hell, he was alive. Now he’s just a body with a heartbeat.”

“It’s hard to imagine Cameron any different than he is now,” Lev admitted. “What... What changed?”

“Killing your mate would do that to you, I imagine.”

“Oh.” Lev hesitated, and then reached out and touched Darius’ hand lightly. “Did you know... before he killed you?”

“Yeah,” Darius said, barely audible. “That’s why I let him.”

“I don’t know what it’s like to have a mate,” Lev eventually said. “Not like that, not a... a true mate. I can’t imagine what that was like for you.”

The silence that stretched between them was heavy, but Lev didn’t break it for a good long while.

“My Cameron was a thoughtful boy. He hadn’t even reached maturity yet before his family robbed him of everything.”

“He sounds... nice. I wish I could have met him then.” Lev rolled onto his back. “But I’m glad I met him at all. Him and Nik. I hadn’t been happy in a really long time.”

“He hadn’t either,” Darius replied quietly.

“I shouldn’t have left. I think I was a better person with them.”

He could feel Darius’ stare on him, and somehow the weight of it was comforting. “I think you made him a better person too.”

Lev snorted softly. “He didn’t listen to me very often.”

“He listened more than you think.”

Lev hummed softly, closing his eyes.

“Cameron is always listening, even when he’s not.”

Lev gave a soft, sad little laugh. “That sounds like him.” He rolled back over, sighing softly. “So. You’ve been here the whole time?” He paused. “Or is that rude to ask? You don’t have to answer.”

Darius rolled his eyes, and rolled on his back. “I’ve been here for the past five hundred and four years. Cameron was seventeen.”

Lev considered that. “He was younger than Nik is now,” he finally said. “And Nik’s still... very young.”

“Yes he was. And in some ways he still is. Sometimes I think he’s frozen in time.”

tagging: @idreamonpaper @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @halstudies @alittleyellowdinosaur @mis-lil-red

[littlemisswolfie]

does she know that my destiny lies with her?

AO3

Summary: Trips are made, conversations are had, and truths are revealed.

Two things are decided the next day during breakfast.

One: Darius won’t be rejoining the troupe for shows or missions until after the baby is born. There are a few reasons for this decision. For one, Darius is out of practice after a few months of being away. He needs to get his weight and muscles back to what they used to be for him to be safe. There’s also Kozholok to worry about; the less of a spectacle he makes of himself, the safer he, Yi, and the baby will be.

Two: Darius has to explain himself to Yi’s mother. This is mostly a Wrath decree, because she wants to keep the peace between the troupe and a woman who cooks for them once a week. “Plus,” she says, eyeing Darius’s hand on Yi’s knee, “I don’t think you want your child’s grandmother to hate you, right?”

Cal is obviously in the doghouse with the rest of the troupe members, but no one is openly hostile with him. They mostly just make him do menial tasks, like hand-washing the dishes after breakfast even though they have a dishwasher and Onyx asking him to do her laundry for her. It’s a very sibling-like dynamic, and, thankfully, Cal doesn’t seem too put out by all of it. Yi’s glad; she would hate for Cal to be alienated like that.

She’s not quite ready to forgive him for the things he said, but she doesn’t want him to suffer, either.

*

After breakfast, Yi finally shows Darius the nursery. It’s mostly an excuse to be alone together again, so when Darius is finished poking around, he sits in the rocking chair and pulls her into his lap. “When’s your next doctor’s appointment?” he asks her.

“This afternoon,” she says. “At two. Do you want to come with me?”

“Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

She cranes her neck to kiss his cheek. “Of course I don’t mind. I’d love for you to come.” Then she laughs and adds, “My doctor keeps pestering me about meeting you, actually. Her name is Dr. Rudy. I think you’ll like her.”

“After, we should go see your mom.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Wrath’s right. I need to clear the air with her before the baby comes.” His hand brushes her stomach again. “I just need to prove I’m going to do right by you.”

“She compared you to my dad,” Yi admits.

He winces. “The one who ran out on you?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“Hey.” She cups his face and makes sure he looks at her. “You came back. That means a lot more than words ever could.”

He kisses her sweetly on the lips and they sit there in a comfortable bubble for a while longer. 

*

Dr. Rudy is indeed thrilled to finally meet the father of Yi’s baby. She can tell as soon as she walked into the exam room that Darius is The Boyfriend, because she’s never seen Yi look at her other friends like that. “I’m glad you got back before your little guy decided to make an appearance,” she jokes as she gets the sonogram machine up and running. “Everything’s going just fine. Ms. Cheng is having a perfectly normal, healthy pregnancy.”

Darius smiles and rubs Yi’s hand. “I’m glad.”

The sonogram appears on the machine, and there he is, their baby. Yi hears Darius’s gasp next to her. “Right now,” Dr. Rudy says, “he’s a little over a foot long. That’s a little small for thirty-two weeks, but nothing to be worried about.”

“Holy shit,” Darius says. His eyes are glued to the screen, where he can see their son moving around. 

She turns her head to smile at him. “That’s him,” she says. “That’s our baby.”

Darius squeezes her hand and says nothing, but she’s pretty sure he’s happy about it.

“You’ll be considered full term in five weeks,” Dr. Rudy says. “As long as you avoid too much stress and keep a healthy diet, I can’t see any complications that could arise between now and then.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Dr. Rudy casts an amused look in Darius’s direction. “I’m guessing you’ll want a sonogram picture.”

Yi laughs. “Yeah, I think so. Right, Darius?”

Darius just nods, and Dr. Rudy shakes her head and prints out the picture.

*

Darius drives them to the shop after her appointment. They have a copy of her most recent sonogram as a peace offering for her mom; Darius never said exactly what happened when he talked to her yesterday, and Yi can only hope her mom isn’t too angry.

They don’t get out of the Jeep as soon as he parks. Instead, he leans over to kiss her and says, “Let me talk to her alone.”

“Are you sure?” Yi asks.

He nods. “Her issue is with me. I won’t make you play mediator.”

“Alright.” She puts one hand over his and squeezes, and she can feel him relax a little at the contact. “I’ll stay in the shop, then. Just don’t take too long, okay? Otherwise I’ll think Mom killed you or something.”

“I think I can handle myself a little better than that.”

“You’ve obviously never met an angry Chinese mom, then.”

*

Yi, like she predicted, has to watch the shop while Darius and her mom talk in the apartment upstairs. Her mom had given him the stink eye when they walked in together but agreed to speak with him privately. So far, Yi can’t hear any shouting from upstairs, so she guesses the conversation is going well.

Some of the regulars are both surprised and thrilled to see her again. “Your mom said you had a bun in the oven,” says Gar, a rugged old man who had drawn a unicorn on her hot pink cast when she was four because she asked for it, “but I didn’t believe her!”

Yi ducks her head and blushes. “Guilty as charged,” she says, rubbing her stomach. “He’s moving around in there. Want to feel?” 

He does, and the baby kicks against his hand rather enthusiastically. Gar laughs. “That’s a strong little guy, huh?”

“Takes after his dad,” Yi says.

“What’s your guy do for a living?” Gar asks. “Your mom never said.”

“He’s a trapeze artist for the Night of Sin circus.” Gar looks skeptical, so she rushes to add, “It pays a lot better than it sounds, I promise. Tickets are over a thousand bucks a pop. We live in a penthouse over a casino. We have plenty of money.”

“I knew you were only with me for my money,” Darius’s voice says, and Yi turns around to see him coming out of the employee’s only door that really just hides the stairs to the apartment. His arms wrap as far around her middle as they can and he drops a kiss on her forehead. 

“Well,” she jokes, “what other good qualities do you have?”

“My dashing good looks, for one.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” Yi turns her head a little to look at Gar again. “Darius, I want to introduce you to Gar. He’s been coming here since I was a kid.”

Darius takes one hand off of Yi and extends it to shake one of Gar’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“So you’re the guy that got our little Yi knocked up?”

Yi knows Gar’s just joking, but Darius doesn’t, and Gar, at almost six feet tall and more muscle than fat, is an intimidating man. Darius winces. “Uh.”

“I haven’t been ‘little Yi’ since I was ten, Gar,” Yi protests.

Gar laughs. “You’re still ‘little Yi’ as long as you can’t reach the top shelf without a footstool.”

“That’s discrimination.”

“That’s facts.” Gar finally smiles at Darius, and Yi feels him relax against her. “It’s good to meet you, kid. How old’re you?”

“Twenty-nine. My birthday is at the end of July.”

“And Yi says you’re a trapeze artist?”

“One of the best.” Darius squeezes Yi’s hip. “I caught Yi out of a freefall the night I met her.”

“Because you singled me out of the crowd as a volunteer,” Yi fires back.

“I knew you’d have the balls if I dared you.”

“She’s always been a bit of an adrenaline junkie,” Gar says, humor evident in his voice. “One time when she was in middle school, she tried strapping fireworks to her bike to see if they would make it go faster.”

Darius lets out a shocked laugh and Yi scowls. “I broke my damn nose,” she says. “You should be more sympathetic to a pregnant woman, Gar.”

“Oh, come on, sweetheart! This is the first time you’ve liked a boy well enough to bring him around, and you went and got pregnant before you introduced us! I have a lot of embarrassing stories to catch him up on.”

The employee’s only door opens behind them again, and when Yi looks towards it, she sees her mother emerge. “Please stop harassing my daughter,” she says, voice light like it always is when she jokes with their regulars. “Unless you want me to tell the story of when Yi came to ask you for help with her period and you—”

“Ahhhh, nope! You awful woman, I’ll stop.”

“Good. Now buy what you need and get out, please. I’m closing up early today.”

*

Half an hour later finds Yi, her mom, and Darius all sitting in the living room of the apartment over the shop. Yi knows she should probably tone the PDA down a little around her mom, but she’s been separated from Darius for too long already, so she doesn’t pull away when he tugs her legs up and into his lap so he can rub her feet. She groans in appreciation. “Thanks, babe.”

Darius squeezes her knee with his free hand. “I could tell they were hurting. You kept shifting your weight downstairs.”

“Was I? I didn’t realize.”

“That’s why you have me around.”

Her mom clears her throat, and Yi jumps a little and turns her head to face her. “Oh! Sorry, Mom.”

“I already talked to Darius,” her mom says, crossing her arms, “but I’d like to hear your side of everything. Do you love him?”

That’s the easiest question in the world. “Yes.”

“And does he love you?”

Yi feels Darius stiffen under her, but she doesn’t waver. “Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he shows me with everything he does.” Yi squeezes his hand and feels him relax. “I know Darius like I know myself. He loves me, Mom, never doubt that.”

Her mom regards them both with a critical eye for a moment longer than is really comfortable and sighs. “Alright. I’ll give him a chance. Have you decided what name my grandson will have?”

Yi freezes up because, well, no, they haven’t talked about it, but Darius pipes up with, “I don’t really care about my name. It  has no real meaning to it. I’d like the baby to be a Cheng instead of a Ricci.”

“Are you sure?” Yi asks, a hand falling to her belly.

Darius presses a kiss to her temple. “I’m positive.”

*

When they’re done talking to her mom, she and Darius hop to the next building over to see Nahara.

Yi’s gut twists a little at the thought of seeing the seer again. Their last interaction wasn’t exactly positive, after all. But Wrath insisted. “Your baby is half demon, Yi,” she said. “You need to make sure it’s not going to hurt you.”

So Yi squeezes Darius’s hand and lets him lead her inside.

Nahara takes one look at them and almost combusts. Her hair whips around her like an angry cat’s tail and when she speaks, the air goes still. “Yi Cheng,” she says, “what is your father’s name?”

Yi and Darius both stiffen at the mention of her deadbeat dad, but Yi answers, “Bai. Bai Cheng.”

The crease in Nahara’s brow deepens and her frown widens. “I feared as such.” Suddenly looking very tired, she gestures to the sitting area of her shopfront, inviting them both to sit. Darius pulls Yi into his lap and she leans back against him, confused and worried. Why does Nahara know his name?

Nahara disappears through a door and returns with two cups of tea. The one she hands Yi smells of ginger, which would have been nice back when she was still vomiting every few hours, but she doesn’t say this. “Is something wrong?” she asks instead.

Nahara sighs. “I’ve had a suspicion for a while now,” she says, “and your child and your father have confirmed it.”

Darius tightens his hold on Yi as she shivers at the chilly tone in Nahara’s voice. “What do you mean?” His voice is stern. Protective. 

“It means that Yi is about as human as you are.”

And the world spins.

[showmethedestiel]

Like I said; I don’t like Hospitals

Chapter Eighteen

[Masterlist]

Summary:  You help Misha while he’s going through a hard time. The two of you quickly become friends, but will it lead to something more in such trying circumstances?

Words: 2,504

Pairing: Misha/Reader

Warnings: A little bit of smut. 

A/N:  *Scuttles out of the dark cave where I've been hiding for the last - seven, wow - months and waves*. It has been far too long and I apologise profusely. I couldn't bear to leave this fic unfinished though, so here I am! -B (PS, I feel that it isn't obvious enough that after the first paragraph we are several months in the future.)

Misha blinks once. “So, does that mean we can stop using condoms?”

You sigh, dropping your head, a small smile on your lips. “Misha.” You say scathingly.

“Sorry.” He smiles carefully, taking your hand. “But… Don’t think that this changes anything. We have West and Maison – even if they didn’t come from you – I think we both know,” He pauses. “You’re as much their mother as Vicki was.” His voice is husky with emotion.

You swallow thickly, “Thank you, Misha.” The tears begin to fall freely down your cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Misha pulls you into his arms and holds you for a few moments.

“And yes,” You say. “We can stop using condoms.”

“Oh, good, this moment was getting too emotional.” Misha laughs, still a little watery.

“Come on guys, we’re gonna be late for Darius, like yesterday.” Misha yells from the front door.

“Dad?” Maison asks, pulling on her shoes.

“Yes Maison?”

“What does yesterday mean?”

Misha sighs deeply. “Right.” He mumbles. “It’s the day before today, Mais.”

“Hey,” You say softly, sliding your arm around Misha’s waist. “You okay?”

Misha nods. “Yeah,” He takes a deep breath. “Just stressed.” He smiles tightly.

“I know,” You say, leaning up to kiss him softly. “I got this okay? You can go to the car.”

As he walks away you smack his ass, making him laugh.

You turn to Maison, “Okay, you’ve got your shoes, got your bag, ready?” You ask. She nods, “Okay, then let’s go.” You usher her towards the car.

“West?” You call into the house behind you.

“Coming.” He yells, and you hear the scampering of feet down the stairs. He darts out of the front door past you and dives through the open car door. You sigh and pick up his shoes from beside you, before locking the front door and slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

Checking your pocket for your phone and keys, you make your way to the car and settle into the passenger seat, shooting a quick smile at Misha.

Four hours and a plane journey later, and having deposited the kids with Darius for the third time that month, you and Misha toss your luggage onto the hotel bed and he flops down after it, while you walk over to the tall windows. The San Francisco skyline stunning as the sun sets beyond towering buildings.

“Nice, huh?” Misha asks from the bed, and when you look back he’s grinning at you.

“Amazing,” you agree, smiling softly back at him. “I’m glad I came.”

Misha chuckles. “You had to come experience a convention sooner or later.”

“True,” you muse, slowly coming back over to the bed. “They do sound pretty exciting.”

“That’s one word for it.”

You laugh. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“I hope so.” Misha reaches a hand up to pull you down beside him, an adoring, soft grin on his lips. “Hey,” he says softly once you’re lying there, face inches from his.

“Hey,” you reply, unable to restrain your smile.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a room all to ourselves…”

“It has,” you agree. “I wonder what we could do in this big, comfy bed – all by ourselves,” you muse, faux-thinking.

Misha chuckles and before you know it he’s above you; arms supporting himself either side of your head. “It’s a conundrum,” he says. “Maybe, while we decide what to do,” he continues. “We should have sex.”

You laugh softly and look up at him. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Misha drops his head and kisses you softly, but soon your hands are clutching at the shirt covering his back and his lips are mouthing at your neck. “We don’t get to do this nearly enough,” you say breathily.

He murmurs an agreement and punctuates it with a roll of his hips, his hardness pressing insistently into your sex. You let out a huff of breath before speaking again. “Not that I don’t want to savour this, babe, but if you don’t fuck me into the mattress within the next minute, I think I might die.”

Misha chuckles into your shoulder. “How could I ever deny a request like that?” he asks, drawing back and grinning at you.

“I can’t believe this is my first convention and I’m already going to be late,” you fuss, running a brush through your unruly hair.

Misha chuckles from where he sits on the bed, scrolling through something on his phone. “Don’t worry; I think I’ve already set the bar pretty low on that one.”

“Okay, I think I’m ready,” you decide, giving yourself a final cursory glance in the mirror.

Misha stands and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Babe, calm down,” he says. “This isn’t even the main event – it’s just drinks with some of the guys.”

“I know,” you say. “I don’t know why I’m nervous.” That is a partial lie – ever since you found out the news last week you’d been nervous, having to keep it from Misha. But soon, soon you could tell him. A nervous smile grows on your face and Misha seems to assume it’s just anticipating the upcoming convention.

He smiles at you and kisses you sweetly. “Shall we go?” he asks. You nod.

The December wind is chilly as the two of you walk across the street to the bar. You wrap your arms around yourself and walk a bit faster. Once inside, the atmosphere feels warm and inviting, and the two of you spot Brianna, Kim, Richard, Rob and the rest of the band from across the room. They wave you over and you smile as you approach.

“Y/N!” Kim greets, smiling widely.  “I can’t believe we haven’t met yet.”

“I know,” you agree, sitting down beside her. “It’s a terrible shame. But I’m here now!”

“It’s great to meet you, Y/N,” Brianna chimes in from next to Kim. You notice that beside you, Misha has already been swept into conversation by the guys. “Are you ready to get absolutely smashed?” she grins.

You chuckle but shake your head slightly. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think I’ll be drinking.” You smile apologetically. “Not tonight, anyway.”

Bri looks scandalised. “What?! That’s outrageous! Right Kim?” she elbows Kim, grinning. “She’s gotta join in, c’mon Y/N, it’s tradition.”

You’re still smiling but it’s a little strained. “Sorry guys, really not feeling it.”

“Rob!” Bri says, pulling the man away from his conversation. “Are you hearing this? Y/N isn’t drinking!”

Rob grins along with Brianna but seems a little less enthusiastic. “Aw, really Y/N?” he says from across the table. “Not just for one night?”

Your face falls uncontrollably at their insistence though you still manage to laugh a little. “Nope, sorry guys.” You’re starting to squirm a little under the growing group’s scrutiny.

Suddenly Misha’s attention is drawn back to you. He frowns concernedly and takes your hand beneath the table, noticing your distress. “Hey, guys, lay off would’ya?” he says, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “She can party when she wants to,” he adds, lightening up the conversation.

“Sorry,” Rob says, looking a little awkward. “Of course, it’s up to you, Y/N.”

Kim smiles kindly at you and you do your best to smile back.

You drop Misha’s hand to squeeze his shoulder. “Hey, it’s fine guys,” you say, standing. “I’ll be right back.”

As you’re walking away from the table you hear Kim asking “Is she okay?”

You don’t hear the rest because you’re already nearing the ladies’. Once inside the quieter space you take a deep breath. That shouldn’t have been as overwhelming as it was, but you’ve been on edge lately. You glare at yourself in the mirror and mentally tell yourself to buck up for the rest of the night. You can handle this. It’ll be fun. You are so nervous for tomorrow, though, and you can’t tell whether they’re good nerves or bad nerves.

On the way out you bump into Misha. “Hey,” he says, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. “You okay? You kinda ran off back there.”

You smile up at him. “I’m fine, I just got a bit overwhelmed. Sorry.”

Misha does an unsure little half-smile. “You don’t have to apologise. If you wanna go at any point just tell me, okay? I know Kim and Bri can be a bit… over the top if you’re not used to them. They’re lovely though. Promise.”

“I’ll be fine, Mish. Thanks though.” You lean up to peck him on the lips and his smile seems a little surer than it was before.

“Okay,” he says, and lets you go back to the table.

It’s quite funny being sober in a group of drunks, you remember. Especially this specific group. ��Rob is hanging off Misha’s shoulders as the six of you walk along the street. Most of the band left to get an early night, so you, Misha, Rob, Rich, Kim, and Brianna decided to take a walk in the lit-up streets of San Francisco. Bri and Kim are sprinting off ahead, laughing maniacally at shop windows. You’re left to watch with Rich.

“Look at that pair,” Rich says, grinning, and points over at Misha and Rob. “Aren’t’ya jealous?” he chuckles.

You smile fondly. “I think I’m safe from Rob,” you say. “They do look very sweet together, though.”

“Mm,” Rich hums in agreement. “Not as much as you ‘n him, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm hmm,” Richard laughs as he agrees. “Cutest couple on the internet.”

“Aw, thanks Rich,” you chuckle.

“’s good,” he adds. “That you were there for him.”

You sigh, sobering a little. “Yeah,” you agree. “It probably was.”

“Y’ really love each other,” he adds, a little wistful.

You smile at Misha, whispering something in Rob’s ear and feel something warm deep inside. “Yeah.”

At that moment, Rob careens away from Misha’s grasp and staggers over to vomit in the gutter, effectively ruining the moment. “O-kay,” you say, rushing over to them. “I think it’s time to go home now.” Rob nods, looking distressed and Misha wraps a heavy arm around your shoulders. He looks at you and you can smell the alcohol on his breath but the look in his beautiful, adoring eyes makes you forget all about it. It’s as if you’re looking into his soul – and he yours.

You wake up early, as usual, and Misha is still spread-eagled across the bed, snoring lightly. You huff a laugh, remembering the state he was in last night. And he has to go on stage today, you think, shaking your head.

His handler should be here in half an hour to drag him away to do god-knows what, and you’ll be left to your own devices until one, when you’ll be joining him on-stage. It’s a surprise that you’re even at the convention, but you’re thinking about schmoozing with some of the fans before the panel so word will probably get out pretty fast. Nevertheless, even Misha doesn’t know you’ll be crashing his panel later.

You nudge Misha awake so he’ll have time to get ready, and he snuffles into the pillow.

“Mish,” you say softly. “Time to get up.”

He grunts and rolls over. “Five more minutes,” he pleads, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“If you get up now, I’ll kiss you good luck before your panel,” you bargain. “But only after you’ve brushed your teeth,” you add as an afterthought.

Misha chuckles. “You mean you wouldn’t have done that anyway?”

“Fair point,” you concede. “Well, maybe if you’re extra quick, there’s a handjob thrown in.”

With that, Misha’s out of the bed with a toothbrush in hand within seconds. You laugh and fall back onto the bed, nerves for the day ahead already dissipating.

Deciding to forgo meeting any fans until after the panel, you occupy yourself by eating breakfast, fretting, and checking up on the gang from last night – who are functioning surprisingly well, considering.

At five minutes to one, you’re backstage, and you barely have time to wish Misha good luck before he’s being ushered away and the band starts playing. The crowd’s roar is wild and deafening when Misha arrives and it makes you smile. Still, you fidget restlessly in your seat as you wait for the right time. Misha answers some questions from the fans, rambles about the kids, sometimes talks about you, and time flies by quicker than it normally does.

Before you know it, Rich and Rob are back up on the stage and your heart is beating a million miles a minute. You think you might throw up. Swallowing down your nerves as best you can, you creep up to the thick curtain and peek through it to watch, making sure that no one can see you.

Here comes the part Misha doesn’t know about.

“So Misha,” Rich says casually, bending over to pick something up from behind the drums.

“Richard,” Misha replies.

“I have a present for you.” He holds up the box – about the size of an A4 piece of paper, and an inch or so thick, tied with a purple bow.

“You do?” Misha asks, a real question in his eyes despite the act, because he really doesn’t know what’s happening.

“Well,” Rich amends. “It’s technically from your lovely girlfriend.”

“Y/N got me a present?” Misha asks, stepping forward to take the box. “How thoughtful.” He sits back down and starts to unbox the gift. “As long as this isn’t actually from Jared… that would be terrifying,” he mutters as he rips off the paper.

Your heart feels like it just stopped beating. The crowd is muttering amongst themselves in hushed tones.

Misha takes the lid off the box and blinks, once, twice. You push through the curtains, putting a finger to your lips in an attempt to shush the audience. It kind of works, but Misha still realises that you’re standing behind him with a nervous smile.

He looks up at you, jaw slack, eyes glazing over slightly. “I…” he starts. “Is this…”

You smile and a tear spills down your cheek. “Yeah, it is,” you whisper.

He makes a choked sound and laughs softly down at the picture in the box. Then he’s thrusting the box at Rob, and throwing himself into your arms, crushing you in all the best ways.

You can tell that Rob has held the ultrasound scan up to show the audience by the sudden, deafening, screaming coming from them.

“Oh my god,” Misha says into your hair. “You’re really pregnant? I thought…”

“Yeah,” you say, choked up. “So did I. There was always a one in a billion chance, but I didn’t think it would ever happen.”

“How long?”

“Three months,” you reply.

Misha laughs into your shoulder and then takes a breath, turning back to his audience. He lifts the forgotten microphone to his lips. “Well,” he says, clearing his throat and wiping the tears from his face. “That was unexpected.”

A/N:  No, that isn't the ending-ending, I think I'm gonna have one more chapter after this, to answer your questions (if anyone is actually still reading, that is). Also, I had to re-read this to get back into the groove of writing it, and jesus christ why did I make it so sad??! Oh well. Hopefully this fluff makes up for it. Again, apologies for leaving for so long - I just fell a bit out of love with Misha x Reader and didn't want to fuck this fic up. But now I'm back in love with it!

Tags: @bowtiesarecool6288 @abtmnt @itsfunnierinenochian @deanandsamsbitch @imagine-inc  (well then, those first two decided not to work)