#I took a nap like a week ago and suddenly felt like drawing her so here you go

[pancharts]

[scarlet-cookie]

Ink Demonth 2024 Day 5 : Secret

Secret

Thomas winced as the old wooden door produced an ear-piercing sound against the ancient floor. He carefully scanned the room, ensuring nobody was hiding inside.

A king-sized bed by a cabinet just by the door, the floral patterned, dull green walls, a closet with a door that’s barely hanging on its hinges diagonally opposite to the bed, and a large, wooden desk and chair by the window opposite to the door.

Thomas slowly made his way in.

Wally and his wife left to go into town today, so they asked Thomas to babysit the kids. In truth, he was already crashing at their place, so it wasn’t a difficult favor. In any case, they were probably also concerned about him suddenly disappearing again.

He let out a long sigh.

Thomas’ gaze swept across the room again, landing on a single, seemingly insignificant notebook among the piles of paper on the desk. He quickly made his way over, softening his steps as to not wake up the napping children.

The notebook was clearly at least a decade in age, just from the texture of the leather cover Thomas could feel alone. Any paper sticking out was clearly yellow, even browning at the edges.

The cover seemed to be intentionally repeatedly scratched with a sharp object, as there are many marks clustered here and there, and just some marks scrawled around. It was as if someone tried to murder the book.

One of these marks was definitely the place where the original owner engraved his name.

Thomas’ finger swept over one of the spots and tried to imagine a name there.

Henry Stein..

He looked back down, before quietly opening the notebook.

The first few pages were of not much importance. There were sketches of unknown characters, and nearly neat handwriting pointing out the flaws in each design, or to self-memo. Each page was marked with a date.

He then landed on a page.

April 13th.

It contained grievances about Joey, worries, concerns and the like.

The bottom of the page was dyed black.

Thomas’ traced his finger up to the next page.

The next page was entirely black in color, its hard texture indicating that it was dried ink.

Thomas took a sharp breath.

He turned the page.

The handwriting had changed, so did the drawing style. It became sloppy, like an amateur artist attempting his first drawing. It continued on for a few pages.

Until it all became handwriting entirely.

Thomas’ eyes widened as he read the contents.

“[scribbled out date]

The ink machine…”

“[scribbled out date]

Sammy is starting to act strange..”

“[scribbled out date]

Susie has left us.”

“[scribbled out date]

It’s too dangerous. Everyone’s acting too rashly.”

“[scribbled out date]

Joey doesn’t seem to like Alan too much.”

“[scribbled out date]

The meeting with Nathan wasn’t in the appointments. Just how many people is truly in the know of this insane scheme?”

“[scribbled out date]

If someone finds this notebook, here are the things you need to know…”

As the words kept going on and on, and the secrets Thomas desperately tried to hide from the world was laid bare for him to see through the eyes of someone else, he felt his chest tighten.

Just as the sentences slowly reached the date when the near destruction of the ink machine happened, he felt the strong urge to shut the book in shame.

However, the last sentence on one of the pages stopped him.

“If you’re Thomas- god, I hope it’s you, Tom. 

Then you should keep reading.

I’m sure it’ll be useful to you.

Sorry.

Sorry I can’t help anymore than this.”

Thomas stared blankly at those words for a moment.

He carefully flipped to the last page.

It was empty.

He took in a deep breath, then began to retrace back to the latest page.

“Dorothy Newsome is the one who tipped off the news station.

She asked me for intel. This is her point of contact : ……”

After the method of contact, the writings stopped there.

That incident had happened a little over two weeks ago.

Wally was still writing down every little thing, solving, investigating and eliminating the red herrings by himself.

Thomas closed that book gently.

He gazed outside for a long, long time.

The realization that he wasn’t alone to bear the burden of those horrifying secrets began to slowly settle on to him.

Bendy : The Untrusted AU - Act 3 (Part 3/5)

[itshuu]

2. “I… don’t hate you”

pairing bakugou katsuki x gn!reader

word count 1,145 words

synopsis after losing to you in a match bakugou continues to challenge you and realizes these "non-hateful" feelings he has

_____________________

Bakugou was a dangerous man to mess with. He had what most would describe as a terrible attitude, a loud foul mouth and an unwelcoming presence.

I mean yeah, he had a few close friends who didn’t really mind his blasty personality like Kirishima, Denki, Sero and Mina. But there was also you.

You who he immediately labeled you as an extra when you arrived about three months ago. You who smiled back sweetly even when he gave you a glare. You who chuckled lightly when he cursed at you during a match. And you who softly whispered into his ear causing his body to slump over and his eyelids to droop to a close resulting in a loss on his end as he fell in to an unwarranted yet peaceful sleep.

When Kirishima woke him up he was absolutely furious. He stood up, eyes bulging, hands popping as he activated his quirk shouting on the top of his lungs for a rematch.

“WHERE THE HELL ARE THEY?” he yelled at Kirishima who quickly shushed him and pointed at your sleeping figure.

Taking in your current state he couldn’t help the vein that bulged out from his forehead. You defeated him (luckily) and immediately took a nap? Who the hell did you think you were?

He watched your stupid chest rise and fall softly, your slightly parted lips letting out small puffs, your closed eyes adorned with soft eyelas-

“Bro, why are you glaring at her, you know she’s sleeping right?” Kirishima whispered.

“He wasn’t glaring, he was gawking at her!”Mina chimes in obnoxiously with a snicker while Denki wiggled his eyebrows at Bakugou.

Bakugou clicked his tongue out of annoyance as he walked right towards you in short but aggressive strides. As if right cue you stretched out, yawning as you peaked through your eyes at the fiery boy heading towards you.

When Bakugou reached over he stood directly in front of you staring you down with a deadly glare as you rubbed your eye.

“Hey dumbass, I want a rematch” he muttered grumpily.

“Me too” you said nodding with a bright sleepy smile on your face. Bakugou felt his eye twitch and an odd pang in his chest from seeing you smile like so at him.

“You’re strong, so tomorrow, okay?”

Bakugou can only scoff at such an obvious statement. Of course he’s strong, he’s the best. He was just caught off-guard today and you managed to get lucky.

“Right after class, don’t be late” he responds turning back around to leave.

Laying in bed that night he couldn’t help but wonder about you. Why hadn’t he noticed this incredible drive of yours before? How could he lose before he grasped the situation at hand? Just who are you? He sighed out of exhaustion and tussled around in bed. He could barely even remember your name at times. He knew little to nothing about you — an opponent who beat him in their first battle together in only a matter of seconds. He felt his jaw clench out of frustration.

And so you met the hot-headed boy the next day for a match to which you let him win (but he didn’t know that) and he cackled like mad man. It was entertaining to you, how his mood can switch so quickly after cursing at you throughout the match. And so you asked him for a rematch which he agreed to out of the sudden surge of his self-confidence. And your sweet smile made another appearance to his eyes.

Things continued this way for some time. From two fights to twenty to forty to fifty fights. Meeting up a few times every week to add to the number of matches, both of you kept score of their own wins. Naturally, you began eating lunch with him and the Bakusquad, throwing playful jabs at each other, walking back to the dorms after training together and finding comfort in each other’s presence.

He learned how soft-spoken yet confident you were, your favorite foods, your full name (he remembered it this time) and more about your drive to become a hero.

Unconsciously, Bakugou stopped yelling and cursing so much around you. Noticing almost immediately you chuckled to yourself about it each time while Bakugou felt his cheeks heat up.

At the end of your matches he’d subtly offer you a water bottle saying he had extras, and teasingly ask if he tired you out to check on you.

Bakugou would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy your company but he wouldn’t admit it either. But when he noticed the way you dragged your body, the subtle discoloration of your skin and the desperate puffs of air you let out during today’s match he knew you were pushing your limits.

“That’s enough, let’s call it a draw” Bakugou said easing his stance and walking over to you.

You laughed dryly, “did I tire you out that much?” As your hunched over trying to catch your breathe Bakugou can only snort at your terrible joke when you’re the one suffering.

“I’m not the one gasping for air dumbass, lets go” he responds as he bends down in front of you, back first.

Caught off guard, you stood in shock but began to giggle softly which he heard and broke his neck to look back at you incredulously.

“What the fuck are you laugin’ about? I said let’s go!” he angrily barked at you.

With a weak yet thankful smile you slowly climbed onto his back, clasping your hands around his neck and he took off with you towards the nurse’s office.

The trip was quiet but comfortable. As you nuzzled your head into he groaned.

“You’re so fuckin’ sweaty” he complained.

“Hey, I didn’t complain when you told me to jump on your sweaty back” you challenged back.

“Well without me you never would’ve made it to the damn nurse” he grumbled under his breath which earned a chuckle and hum of agreement from you.

After a moment of silence once again you felt your eyelids begin to droop.

“Hey Katsu” you started. He slightly turnt his head encouraging you to continue.

“What do you think about me?”

His eyes widened as he staggered a bit trying to process your question. His palms started to sweat and his heart rate began to speed up but still he tried to remain calm.

“Why are you asking me such a dumb question?” Bakugou responded.

Suddenly he felt your dainty hands squeeze him gently but with slight more force.

“Please” you whispered, “tell me before I fall asleep.”

Bakugou let out a shaky breath he didn’t even know he was holding and felt his cheeks heating up.

“I… don’t hate you” he whispered back, to which he felt you smile widely in his back.

“I like you too Katsu.”

© 2021 itshuu, all rights reserved. Do NOT repost, translate or claim my work as yours.

[ava-achlys]

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Sohn Youngjae/Eric - Spoiled

prince! Eric x fem! reader

Warnings: unprotected sex

This was supposed to be part of a different fic series starring Eric, Juyeon and OC/Reader. I altered it to be a standalone for now, cause I'm not too happy with how the other parts turned out. But we'll see.

It's the week after his 20th birthday and the Prince's schedule had been hectic. He was now burdened with even more responsibilities and training to prepare him for the day where he will bear the King's crown, and continue his father's legacy. Of course. he understood the importance of it all, but right now he just wanted to collapse into bed and avoid everyone for a while.

He had just finished sitting in on a meeting with the board of school directors, where they drilled him incessantly with questions on how he would improve the education system. He quickly strolled away from the meeting room, hoping to leave before anyone could try to talk to him. When he was sufficiently far away, he breathed a sigh of relief and shuffled towards his bedroom.

He threw the door open and slammed it shut once he was inside, faceplanting into bed and tried to take a nap. A soft knock on the door caused him to let out a strangled scream. Why couldn't they just let him rest? He was close to tearing his hair out when he heard a familiar voice through the door. "Eric, sweetheart, are you alright? If it's not too much trouble can I come in?" You asked gently. Eric weakly called out a 'yes' and soon you were in his room, smiling pitifully at him. You walked over to the bed and sat next to him, whose face was still buried in his pillows. You caressed his blonde hair reassuringly, and he leaned into your touch, appreciating the comfort it brought him. "Poor baby, they're working you to death already, aren't they?" Eric mumbled something in response, being lulled to sleep from your soothing touch. You laughed softly, cooing internally at how cute he looked when he was sleepy. "You'll need to change into some comfy clothes, and then you can take a nap, baby."

You got up and rummaged through his closet, finding an oversized, low-cut baby blue sweater, and a pair of plaid shorts and brought them over to the bed. With a lot of whining from Eric, you managed to coax him into a sitting position, where you helped him change out of his formal day attire, which was a crisp white button-up, black tie and slacks, with a black sash across his torso. The poor boy was nodding off the whole time he was helped out of his clothes, curling up into a fetal position on the bed when they were done. Chuckling to yourself, you picked up all his clothes and put them in the laundry basket before returning to his bedside. Eric whined and made grabby hands at you to join him in his nap, needing your presence to soothe him. And who were you to refuse such a favor from your favorite boy? You kicked off your heels and slid into bed, drawing the covers around you both as you continued to run your fingers through his soft blonde locks. Appreciating the warmth, Eric cuddled closer and was soon sound asleep.

-

Eric blinked blearily. The room was tinted orange from the last few rays of the sun. He had slept through afternoon tea and probably dinner as well. He was still drowsy from the warmth around him, which was your embrace. You were still sound asleep, chest rising and falling steadily before Eric's face. Your lilac sundress had slipped down slightly, revealing your cleavage and he couldn't help but stare. Just a few days ago, he'd had the pleasure of seeing and feeling your body, an indulgent treat you and Juyeon hyung had planned for his 20th birthday. He felt himself hardening as the memories of that night came flooding back. It would be a lie to say he hadn't thought about it over and over again the past few nights, but all three of you had been too busy that week, to meet up and relive that experience. The tip of his hardening length grazed against your thigh, causing him to whimper at the feeling. He deliberated whether he should wake you up and ask for help with his situation. As he went over it in his mind, he subconsciously began grinding against your thigh, the delicious friction of his dick against his shorts. Biting his lip, he struggled to keep his low whines in. He was too far gone by now, shutting his eyes and pleasuring himself.

So far gone that he did not notice you awake from her nap and watch him get himself off by humping her leg like a puppy. "Enjoying yourself there, sweetheart?" Eric gasped and froze in horror, not daring to open his eyes. He felt your warm hand caress his face and touch his lips. You slipped your thumb between his lips and he willingly sucked on it, opening his eyes slowly. You looked at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes, "If you wanted my help, all you needed to do was ask. I'll give it to you anytime you want, baby boy." Eric moaned around the finger in his mouth and you replaced it with your tongue. You sloppily made out until-

"Please," he gasped.

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me noona I need it so bad" he begged, with another rut of his hips against yours. A dark wet spot had now formed in the front of his shorts from all the leaking precum. "I'll take care of you, just try to relax, okay?" You assured him as You began stripping off your dress and helped Eric out of his clothes. Once they were both fully naked, Eric leaned back on the pillows against the headboard, his cock red and erect, leaking precum all over his belly. His eyes transfixed onto You, who crawled up to bed to lean over him, and grasped his chin to connect their lips in another searing kiss. His hips bucked upwards, desperate for some relief. You settled next to him, reaching out a hand to stroke his shaft, prompting more precum to dribble from his swollen tip. You collected the sticky fluid with your fingertip and spread it all over his shaft and balls and began to pump his cock slightly faster. Eric let out a hoarse moan, hips thrusting in time with your strokes. You pulled his face close, burying it in your cleavage. Eric took it as a sign to kiss all over your chest, finally zero-ing in on a pierced nipple, sucking hard and giving it kitten licks. He moved on to your other nipple, this time giving it hard flicks with his tongue and gentle playful bites on and around it.

You hummed in pleasure as he toyed with your breasts, speeding up the hand on his cock, twisting and tugging at it as well. With one hard tug, Eric shot his cum over both of you, some of it even reaching his lips. You didn't stop pumping him, and he was hard again in seconds. However, the overstimulation was too much for the prince. He gasped to catch his breath, trying to pull your wrist away, but you would not let up. You simply licked the cum off his lips and continued stroking him with a mischievous smile. You gave a long, deliberate stroke from base to tip and suddenly pulled away, leaving Eric groaning at the loss of friction. You pushed him down with your clean hand to lie down comfortably as you straddled him. Your cum-splattered hand was rubbing your pussy, your own juices mixing with his. You moaned as you thumbed your clit, your other fingers inside your folds, spreading yourself open. You dove down for a quick, sweet kiss to the blonde's lips and positioned yourself above his twitching cock.

You guided his tip towards your folds, and rubbed your clit on it, causing Eric to flinch. You put his tip into your entrance, and without warning, fully seated yourself on his cock, feeling his balls against your ass. Both of you let out pained moans; Eric from feeling his length suddenly surrounded by tight, wet heat; you, from taking all of Eric without preparation. Eric wasn't as big as Juyeon, but he was still a decent size. You let out a breathless laugh. "I can feel you throbbing inside me baby." Once you had gotten used to the feeling, you leaned forward to better leverage yourself to ride him. You lifted your hips up, leaving only his tip in your pussy, only to slam yourself back down. Both of you moaned in time as You repeated your actions. Slowly, you reduced your speed, but maintained the force. Your tits bounced deliciously with each thrust and Eric was fully enjoying the view. He had one hand on one of your breasts, and the other grabbing your ass, gripping it tight whenever you clenched around him.

"Noona, noona fuck I'm so close," Eric groaned. You leaned in to kiss him, whispering "Cum with me, baby." You wrapped a hand around his throat and rode him faster, chasing their orgasms. The blonde moaned shamelessly every time You tightened your grip around his throat, his hands gripping your waist so hard that You knew it was going to bruise tomorrow. You felt his hips stuttering as he thrust upwards, meeting your halfway as you impaled yourself on his cock over and over again, feeling it abuse your g-spot. You kept your eyes locked on Eric, appreciating how beautifully fucked out he looked. Sweaty blonde hair askew, lips pink and raw from being kissed and bitten, drooling dumbly, moaning like a whore, eyes rolling to the back of his head. You even took the time to admire how your rings glittered against his tanned throat. You choked him harder and harder until you felt his breath hitch, cheeks flushing dark red. Suddenly you felt him grab your hips and pull you impossibly closer, burying himself in your heat as he choked out a silent scream, filling your pussy with hot thick cum. You felt his cock twitch inside your as it spurted out more cum, and You instinctively clenched around him to keep as much of it inside you.

Eric let out a string of broken moans, begging you to stop once you withdrew your hand from his throat. He could not handle the overstimulation but you continued to grind yourself onto his softening cock, opting to finish yourself by rubbing and pinching your clit, and whispering praises to him, telling him what a good boy he was being, and how good he was making you feel. The boy sobbed, grabbing at the sheets to steady himself as you drew closer to your orgasm, a final tug at your clit sending your over the edge. You screamed in pleasure as you wrenched yourself off Eric's now soft cock, thighs trembling as a mixture of both of your cum dripped from your abused hole. You fall forward, resting your cheek on his shoulder, both of you breathing in time trying to catch their breath. Eric's hands came up to rest on the small of your back, gently caressing your skin as a way of thanks as they lay there for a while, being lulled to sleep from pure exhaustion and satisfaction.

The prince was soon fast asleep, and you giggled at the sight of him peacefully snoring away. You carefully extracted yourself from his embrace and stumbled your way to his bathroom, legs feeling like jelly from your escapades. You wet a towel and began cleaning you both off, Eric humming in his sleep at the feeling of the warm cloth on his skin. Once you were done, you grabbed a large, dry towel and spread it out on the bed, not willing to risk waking the prince up to change the sheets. Instead, You carefully rolled him to the side, for he was completely fast asleep by then. Once the towel was laid to cover the wet spots, you moved him into a more comfortable position and pulled him into your embrace. Smiling slightly in his sleep, Eric snuggled closer to his favourite noona and soon you joined him in the most comfortable sleep either of you had had all week.

[sloppyplanetary]

Holding On to Fate, Chapter One

rating: mature (smut later), pairing: rick sanchez/morty smith, tags: memory loss, angst, summer knows, intergalactic road trip, content warnings: drinking, puking implied,

Morty groaned, face contorting into a grimace as he slowly woke up to a pounding headache. Sleep dragged at his eyelids, protesting the morning light shining through his bedroom window. He really didn't want to wake up- he was having such a good dream. The dream was already fading from his memory, but the warmth of a body, the feeling of security, and lingering rough fingers drawing patterns on his back remained, a much better alternative to Morty's current dry mouth and throbbing head.

But, all good things must come to an end. His mom opened his door and softly called his name.

"Morty? You awake?"

He rubbed his face and cracked open his eyes begrudgingly. "Barely." 

Beth's brow was pinched, face displaying a rare level of concern. She opened the door wider, and spoke quietly. "Hey, if you want to take today off from school, you can." She paused, seeming to debate her next words. "You don't have to talk about it. But remember, I know how it feels." 

Morty held in a snort as she left the room. He doesn't remember much of anything that happened last night, but his hangover made it obvious. Of course she knows how it feels, with all the wine she drinks. 

Morty felt a wave of bitterness. It was nice of her to not bug him about school, but she didn't even question why her sixteen year old son got drunk last night. Wait- why did he get drunk? He tried to remember what happened yesterday, but was hit with a fresh wave of nausea, barely jerking out of his bed and into his bathroom on time. 

Fifteen minutes later, he padded downstairs with a freshly brushed mouth in search of advil. The family was seated at the kitchen table, and their conversation abruptly stopped as soon as he rounded the corner. They all looked up at him, Summer off of her phone. 

"W-what?" Morty demanded, his patience wearing thin from dealing with his pounding head.

Summer raised her eyebrows. "Surprised you're still here."

"Where else would I- would I be? Mom gave me the day off of school." He took a seat across from Summer, noticing for the first time how big the kitchen table was. Surely they didn't need that many chairs- it was only the four of them, after all.

She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by Beth hissing her name. Summer shot her a glare, and Jerry, sensing the rising tension, spoke up. 

"Well I, for one, am glad you're okay, you’re doing okay. Have some pancakes,” he said, gesturing to the stack on the table.

Morty glanced between Beth and Summer, who were still having an argument through facial expressions only, but he was too tired to deal with this. He grabbed a few pancakes and started eating them, tuning out the room. His mind wandered back to yesterday, trying to grab onto the last thing he remembered, but his head still hurt too much. Suddenly, the chair next to him being empty made him uneasy. He really just wanted to go lay back down and nap. Sighing, he pushed his half-eaten plate away and stood up.

“Wait,” Beth said. She went to the kitchen and returned with a blue gatorade and two small pills, holding it out to him. “Take these and drink this, it’ll help.”

Morty stared at it, a pit in his stomach telling him not to drink it, the color making his head swim worse. “Do we have any other flavors?”

Beth retracted her hand in surprise. “This is your favorite type. It has been for years.”

“Sometimes thing just- they just change,” Morty replied with a shrug.

Beth nodded and switched it out for a purple one. This time, Morty accepted it, and chugged half of it in one go. “Thanks, Mom. I’m going back to bed.” He slowly made his way back up the stairs, pulled his curtains shut, and fell into bed, only to land on something hard. He shook his blanket out to discover a strange small metal flask, the sight of which triggered another throb of his head. The empty flask got tossed across the room into the dirty clothes pile, and Morty finally laid down, sleep quickly reclaiming him.

*****

Morty still couldn’t remember what happened that day, and it made him a bit uneasy, but he wrote it off as getting black-out drunk. His headache faded, and he was back at school, going through the classes on rote. His nights were spent playing video games and watching t.v., but the feeling that something was missing from his routine lingered each night as he tried to sleep. Sleep was hard to come by, and his dreams kept repeating, fading as soon as he woke up but leaving those same feelings of comfort.

Summer was back to normal, Jerry was Jerry (albeit seeming happier for some reason), but Beth seemed like she was constantly tip-toeing around Morty. Her bottles of wine still made appearances at night, and occasionally, Morty would be the cause of an abrupt conversation end just by showing up in the room. It was frustrating, but he tried to ignore it.

One night, Beth cornered him, already a few glasses of wine in. "Listen, I know you don't want to talk about Rick leaving, but it hurt me too. At least he told you to your face, instead of leaving a note."

"What? W-who?" Morty asked, suddenly lightheaded.

Beth just laughed, an airy laugh that felt out of place. "Right. 'Just don't think about it'." She patted his head and walked off, still giggling.

Morty shook his head and retreated to his room. Beth's confusing behavior was worrying him a bit, and he had no clue who she was talking about, but his recurring minor headaches were worrying him more at the moment. It seems like they randomly come and go, without any obvious reason, and he was sick of it.

As he sat on his bed, his eyes landed across the room on the strange silver flask he found in his bed. His headache worsened, but this time he was angry, and stomped across the room the grab the stupid thing. He jerked it up and a splash sounded- it wasn't completely empty like he thought it was.

Curiously, he screwed open and sniffed it. It didn't smell like any alcohol he's ever smelled before, or anything familiar at all, really. It smelled like a thousand things that he's smelled before but couldn't identify now, even though he knew he hadn't. His head throbbed, but he didn't care. He had to taste it

Morty pressed his tongue to the opening and tilted it up, just looking for a drop. He quickly moved his tongue and chugged the rest of the flask when liquid practically melted on his tongue, tasting sweet and warm and comforting and almost immediately making his head stop pounding. He smiled, feeling at ease for the first time in two weeks, and laid on his pillow, empty flask in hand.

*****

Last night after the flask incident he actually got a full amount of sleep, and was staying after school in the library today, when Jessica approached him.

“Hey, Morty,” she said, smiling.

“Oh, J-Jessica! Hi.” Morty shut his book and stood up, waving at her. Maybe it was just a part of getting older, but recently, he hadn’t been getting the same waves of butterflies in his stomach that he used to get any time she came near. “What’s up?”

“Well, I’m free tomorrow, and that new science fiction movie is coming out, and I know you're like, into that stuff."

Morty nodded, confused, not remembering when he'd given her that assumption but rolling with it.

"So anyway, me and a bunch of friends are going to it, and we wanted to invite you."

A weird feeling spread through his body. It wasn't the same giddy anticipation he would've gotten a year ago, and the change threw him off. Did his crush just… go away?

"Earth to Morty," Jessica prompted.

"Haha, sorry, was trying to- to remember if I had something planned for-for tomorrow or not," Morty lied. "But I don't, so, sounds good!"

"Alright, cool! Well, I have your number, so I'll text you the deets later."

"You do?" Morty asked.

Jessica looked at him strangely. "Yeah, don't you remember that whole Healthy Morty situation?"

He didn't, but didn't want to make Jessica think he was dumb, so he nodded and laughed. "Oh yeah, that's good then! Yeah, just call- just text me whenever. Bye!" 

She waved and left the library. Morty's smile faded as she disappeared out of sight. Healthy Morty? Sci-fi enthusiast? Beth avoiding him, her saying something about someone named Rick, the strange flask, whatever Summer was going to say on that first day before she got cut off- his growing feeling of unease over the past two weeks peaked, leaving only one conclusion.

Something was wrong. Something was missing from his memories, and Beth knew what it was. Probably Summer, too. Jerry was debatable, but Morty figured his best bet was to ask Summer first. 

He grabbed his bag and nearly ran out of the library, eager to get answers.

[itsthemoofacewriting]

It’s heaven in your arms - Chapter 2

Welcome back!

You guys, I was so nervous posting this and everyone’s been so lovely ;_;

I don’t know if anyone picked up on it, but my title has two meanings. One, because it’s a bed sharing trope and two, because Ace died in Luffy’s arms. I’m a monster, I know.

Summary: It may have been two years since Ace’s death but, for Luffy, sometimes it still felt like just yesterday. Or, sometimes, something beautiful can blossom from a place of hurt. Raining: K+ 

You can also find this on AO3 and FFN. 

Enjoy!

It was supposed to be a one-time thing.

But when he’d shot her those excited puppy eyes and asked if they could have another sleepover, she’d found herself caving. Even more so when the thought cropped into her head that maybe he was asking because he was struggling. She’d rather know where he was if he was going to be upset than worry about him being all alone out on the deck.

She’d raised an eyebrow when Luffy had arrived with Zoro in tow but that had been quickly snuffed out when he’d smugly said, “A one-time thing, huh?”

From there on the second time turned into a third time and then a fourth and now she’d lost count of how many times this had happened. It wasn’t every night, mind you, as they all had watches and if one of them couldn’t be there, then it was an unspoken rule that the others would sleep separately. Although she couldn’t be sure that Luffy and Zoro didn’t in the men’s room, but she’d seen those bunks and they’d never mentioned it.

The point was, it’d turned into a routine that no one blinked an eye at, and she’d even got them bathing regularly because there was no way either of them were getting in without being clean.

She’d also never slept better than she did when she had those two in her bed, piled in whichever way they found themselves throughout the night. Luffy liked to be the big spoon, which was something she felt like she shouldn’t know but did, he almost insisted on it even as he climbed in first and took an end. It was a funny sight when Zoro ended up in the middle, his hulking figure being cuddled up to by Luffy. The person on the other end was hardly left out when he stretched his arm to curl around them. It was like he was trying to keep them all close.

When they weren’t being spooned by Luffy, another favourite was when Zoro would lay on his back, an arm thrown out either side and she’d naturally gravitate towards him until her head was on his chest or tucked into his shoulder. His beefiness made a nice pillow, something Luffy must have agreed with as he normally mirrored her on the other side.

She’d stopped being flustered by all of this long ago, it was easy to get over when they did it all the time and neither said anything about it.

She did, however, question whether it was right that she had a preferred sleeping preference with the both of them and that she was ranking them.

.

.

.

Nami was sunning herself on her lounger, it was a pleasant day with the sun out, the ocean still and the background noise of Luffy, Chopper and Usopp running around in the distance. Footsteps approaching caught her attention only to see Robin making her way over, two drinks in hand that must have come from Sanji and a third arm holding a book. She greeted the other woman silently, turning her head to smile at her before facing the sun again and closing her eyes to enjoy the warmth on her skin.

There truly was no better way to spend the day-

“My invitation to your little sleepovers must have got lost in the mail.”

Nami was ripped from her peace as she gaped, feeling heat flush through her body at this finally being acknowledged. She shot a nervous look at Zoro who was sleeping only a few feet away from her sun lounger against the railing. Just because he looked like he was asleep, didn’t mean he was, but when he didn’t move or twitch or give any indication that he might be awake, she let herself relax slightly.

And focus back on the woman next to her still staring her down for an answer. Even though it was a statement, she felt the need to explain herself.  

“No- Robin! It isn’t… like that?” She could almost feel the ghost of Luffy’s breath against her skin and Zoro’s arm wrapped around waist, an unwelcome reminder to contrast her words.

Robin hummed, a look in her eye that told Nami she didn’t buy it. “You three looked adorable all cuddled up this morning.”

Of all the ways she thought she was going to die throughout her life, at the hands of Arlong, dropping from Skypiea or on Whole Cake Island to name a few, she never imagined this would be it. Embarrassed to death.

How was she going to explain that this had started with comforting Luffy and snowballed into whatever the hell they were doing now.

She didn’t have to either as Luffy came barrelling over with a chirp of “Nami!”, unaware of their conversation or her embarrassment only to make it worse by squeezing himself onto her sun lounger, ignoring how close they were or that he was practically laying over her. He chattered excitedly next to her, telling her about what him, Usopp and Chopper had been doing, at one point using her straw to take a long gulp from her drink and all the while she was very aware of Robin’s eyes on her the whole time.

“It’s sweet. I’m happy for you three,” Robin said as soon as Luffy bounded off after telling her his short story.

He was out of sight soon enough, but her eyes naturally trailed over to Zoro, only to find his eye trained on her already. She couldn’t be sure whether he’d heard what Robin had just said, but the smile he gave her before closing his eye again certainly didn’t help.

It was full of warmth.  

.

.

.

‘It’s sweet. I’m happy for you three.’

Robin’s words replayed in her head, over and over.

The last couple of weeks washed over her. Robin’s words bringing to the forefront how Luffy and Zoro’s behaviour had changed.

Luffy was the first one up in the mornings, unable to wait for either of them to wake up as he heard Sanji bustling around the kitchen and the lure of food too strong that he’d hastily take off, plastering a hurried kiss on the cheek or forehead of whoever was closest. Sure, it’d stunned her at first, but he’d done it to Zoro too and the other man hadn’t even blinked, so she’d let it go. Even if it did take her by surprise each time.

Then it just left Nami and Zoro by themselves to wake up together. He was so casual as he stretched, murmuring out a “mornin’” as he removed his arm from wherever it was laying against her body and it lingered a second too long, brushing against her skin. It was more subtle than Luffy’s gesture, but this was Zoro. It might as well be the same act.

She felt like an elephant in the room needed to be addressed, yet neither of them acted like anything had changed.

Outside the bedroom it changed too.

Where she used to be alone in the library as she drew maps, Zoro would now be napping against her desk or on the sofa, saying how it was quieter in there and because she was so cranky, they wouldn’t be disturbed. Luffy would soon gravitate towards them, asking questions about her maps that he didn’t really listen to the answer to, or he’d go lay his head on Zoro’s lap whilst he slept, a rare moment of calm that would punish them later as he bounded around.

Luffy would find her more often too, clambering over her seat if she was sun lounging or bringing over things that he’d found and deemed ‘cool’. Kind of like how a cat would bring mice to its owner to impress them… not that she was Luffy’s owner.

They still hung out with their other friends, but instead there’d be Zoro’s arm casually thrown over the back of her chair and Luffy at her other side, a hand constantly finding a way to touch her or draw her into his chaos.

Small shifts, so subtle it had taken her this long to piece it together.

It was almost like…

Almost like they were in a relationship. The three of them.

It made her stomach churn, but she didn’t know if it was in a good or bad way, like how it did when she was dreading something or excited.

And then the final puzzle piece slotted into place.

Oh.

She was in a relationship with them. Or at least the early stages but it was all there, for everyone to see and she’d missed it every step of the way. Her thoughts were jumbled. Too many fighting to be at the forefront and how had she not figured this out sooner?

Her mind had been running for hours whilst she was squished between Zoro and Luffy, staring up at the ceiling. It was still dark outside and all she’d done all night was drift in and out of sleep. She had more hours left to sleep, but she couldn’t calm her mind enough for it.

She rolled onto her side to face Zoro, in his sleep Luffy sensed her movement and filled the slither of free space to spoon up behind her, his breath heavy against her neck. She studied Zoro’s profile, from the scar covering his eye, which when he slept like that she couldn’t tell if he was awake, to the strong line of his nose, the normal severe expression softened in his sleeping state. Even when he slept on the deck, he didn’t look that relaxed, this was something privy to her and Luffy.

There was no way around it. She was attracted to him, and she couldn’t deny looking down at his lips a few times recently as he spoke. They looked dry, like he needed a good slather of lip balm over them, but she it didn’t stop her from entertaining the thought of pressing her lips against his. Luffy’s on the other hand, looked softer and she wondered if the texture was the same as his skin, still soft like human skin but there was a hint of resistance, of elasticity there. She was attracted to Luffy too, his carefree grin and contagious enthusiasm. How weir-

What she wasn’t expecting was for Zoro to suddenly stretch and stir, making a noise of contentment before he rolled over to face her and she didn’t have the sense the clamp her eyes shut in time. She stared back into a lone grey eye.

“Y’alrigh’?” Zoro slurred out, still caught in the grasp of sleep as he settled into his new position.

“Yeah.” She sounded too awake for how early it was and too vacant, unsure, that it caught his attention.

“What’s wrong?” More coherent now.

“Zoro… is this not a bit weird?” Luffy’s arm tightened around her, and he snuggled further into her back.

Zoro had already turned to face her, his arm haphazardly thrown over her, but after her question she could feel the shift, how he was looking at her before but now she could tell she had his full attention. He stared at her, all the signs of sleep or tiredness from before gone from his face. His eye was trained on her and it felt like she was being accessed, that he was trying to look through her.

Another second passed until he answered with a shrug.

“I dunno, maybe, but when have we ever done anything by the book?”

He made a good point and when had she ever cared what others thought?

Her silence seemed to make him take a step back, second guessing the intention of her previous question, as he asked, “Do you want to stop doing this?” The arm over her waist lightened, like he was ready to remove it at a moment’s notice and if she thought she was being accessed before, it was nothing compared to now. His gaze scrutinizing, flittering around her face for any sign of discomfort.

She considered it for a second but the thought of going back to an empty bed permanently made her ache. There’d be no whispering as they tried to go off to sleep, no elbows digging her in the night, no snoring in her ears and it wouldn’t be like an oven all the time with their combined body heat. It’d be cold and silent.

It sounded awful.

“No,” she whispered and Zoro’s arm rested back over her body like before, palm splayed across her waist and squeezing slightly, like he was encouraging her to continue. “But what if- what if this…” ‘doesn’t work out’, She wanted to say.

It didn’t matter, he was on the same page. “This is Luffy we’re talking about. And it’s me.”

He was telling her to trust them. Trust that this would all be okay regardless of the outcome because it was them, and they’d been through hell and back with each other since the very beginning.

And she did, the instinct flaring up instantly to calm her down.  

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed, body relaxing and mind going blissfully silent with that little piece of reassurance.

“Good, then go to sleep, you’re gunna wake up cranky otherwise.”

He was pushing his luck, but she’d let it slide right now mainly because one, she didn’t want to wake Luffy (he was almost as bad as a baby when woken) and because he’d just been very sweet just then, in his own gruff way. And she was feeling generous.

A moment after closing her eyes there were warm lips pressing against her forehead and she sensed a slight hesitation there before they were gone. She cracked her eye open to look at him, but his eye was clamped shut stubbornly, pretending that he hadn’t done anything. There was no mistaking the blush on his cheeks though.

In the morning, when Luffy performed his routine of frantically jumping out of the bed to chase Sanji to the kitchen, he placed his usual hurried kiss on her cheek but this time around, she leaned into it with a smile on her face.

.

.

.

Since that night, things had changed. Everything seemed easier, casual touches that she no longer overthought and, if anything, she leaned more into them.

All of it felt more natural but then maybe that was because she’d relaxed.

Like déjà vu, Nami was on her sun lounger the next day. The hot weather from the day had simmered down into a mild evening and she was making the most of the quiet before they did it all over again tomorrow. Robin was next to her too, reading with the little light naturally left, she’d be moving indoors soon to carry on.

Nami’s eyes stung a bit, from the lack of sleep the night before and she hadn’t napped, but she felt lighter after last night. So much so that she confessed, “I’m in a relationship with Luffy and Zoro.”

Robin stopped reading and turned to smile at her patiently. “It would appear you are, are you happy about it?”

“Yeah,” she said, feeling her cheeks go rosy. “We can make arrangements though, it’s your room too,” she added as an afterthought.

“As long as it stays pg, it doesn’t bother me at all.”

She spluttered, her previously rosy cheeks turning red as it spread hotly across her face and down her neck. She’d only just wrapped her head around the fact she was in a relationship with them, she couldn’t even think about that yet.

“Besides, I believe I have somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

Robin looked over her shoulder and Nami peered behind her to see Franky walking off to his workshop.

Oh.

Nami’s grin turned teasing, it was only fair with what she’d had to put up with recently, except her fun was interrupted by Luffy calling from the women’s room stopped her in her tracks, Zoro poking his head out of the frame to grunt at her. Honestly, as if it wasn’t her room.  

“I believe you’re being called for by your boyfriends,” Robin teased, twinkle in her eye.

“This isn’t over!” Nami pointed her finger at her.

“I didn’t doubt it.”

She crossed the deck, on her way to her room when the thought from last night popped into the forefront of her mind and how she could actually act on it now.

Zoro’s mouth opened when she appeared in the doorway, no doubt something snarky about her being the last one present but she couldn’t hear it over the blood thumping in her ears.

She marched over to them on the bed, a woman on a mission and Luffy looked at her curiously until he yelped as her hands cupped his face and brought him into a kiss. He hesitated for a second until his hands gripped her arms and his lips responded in kind. Whilst it was clear he lacked experience, enthusiasm dripped from the kiss and it more than made up for it as his lips moved eagerly against hers. She angled her head, encouraging him to do that same and trying to keep up with the frantic pace he was setting, all the while batting down a smile. It was him all over, joyful and chaotic and she didn’t know if she’d ever get enough of it.

They pulled apart and there was a split second of relief in his eyes, like maybe he thought this moment was never coming, before it was trampled by his excitement, and he beamed at her.

“You want one too?” She teased, looking over at Zoro, eyebrow raised in challenge.  

Zoro’s response was a heavy palm on the back of her neck that had them both leaning in, over Luffy, to meet in the middle for a kiss much different from hers with Luffy. Zoro’s pace was slower, more thorough as he took his time against her lips, yet it was firm. He had a bit more knowledge, he was surer in himself, and it showed as she sunk into the kiss, for once letting herself be led. She enjoyed it just as much and she knew she’d relish taking her time to pull apart the differences between them, savouring the way they both made her feel.

A daring swipe of her tongue across his bottom lip and then they broke apart, Luffy in the background demanding another kiss when Zoro smugly said, “Took you long enough.”

He wouldn’t look so smug when she pushed him off the bed tonight.            

Luffy’s pleas weren’t ignored when Zoro said, “Captain,” to capture the other boy’s attention and tugged on his vest to kiss him and it made her feel warm, a flutter in her stomach because whilst she wasn’t a part of the kiss, she was a part of them. The three of them.

Luffy looked dazed and then elated when they broke apart, grin splitting his face and there was a glint in his eye that told her more kisses would be demanded before they went to sleep.

She’d get changed and brush her teeth before getting in bed, maybe check that both of them have done that already because she didn’t remember smelling or tasting mint on their breath, when something caught her eye.

There was a space in the middle for her already.

And she smiled; her boys.

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

It’s been a while since I’ve had a fic practically write itself, I’ve missed that.

Luffy and Zoro may be idiots most of the time, but they’re both emotionally smart, it’s been shown time and time again. Nami, on the other hand, is in some cases but she’s also a bit of a worrywart too. So yeah, they kinda eased Nami into what was developing because they didn’t want to freak her out.

As always, please excuse any errors.  

If you got this far, thanks for reading, it means a lot.

[asexualdrago]

20 Questions

b@babycakes1983 shoutout to them for the FNAF prompts

Glamrock Freddy laid flat with his back against a wall in a sitting position as Gregory was nestled in his lap.His breathing was slow and his heartbeat was calm. No wrinkle of worry or fear on the boy’s face. He had to admit that Roxanne and Glamrock Chica were right. He was adorable when he slept. How they knew this, no idea. Maybe he had taken naps in their green rooms and he didn’t notice. He didn’t mind it all that much. At least he can admire these peaceful moments after a long day of work. No Glitchtrap, no Vanny and no worries.

Gregory shifted in his lap and rested his head against Glamrock Freddy’s chest where the empty compartment sat. A low, rhythmic ticking echoed in the boy’s ears. He slowly opened his brown eyes and yawned. Glamrock Freddy felt his circuits stop flowing suddenly seeing his boy wake up. “Hello Gregory, sleep well?” He asked in amusement as the boy looked a bit dazed from waking up. Looking up he saw Freddy’s kind, glowing blue eyes. 

Nearly blushing he said “I-uh. Yeah I slept well.” He smiled at the animatronic as Glamrock Freddy maneuvered his jaw to smile down at the boy. “Um Freddy, how long was I asleep?” “2 hours and 30 minutes. If you are wondering how you got here, Vanessa told us that your mother dropped you off with her and she brought you here as she had work to do and trusted me to watch you.” Glamrock Freddy explained. Gregory’s blush deepened and laughed awkwardly. “Oh, um sorry about that Freddy.”  Said animatronic laughed and ruffled the child’s hair making him giggle and try to push it away. “Hey! C-cut it out! Freddy’s response was to jab his metallic fingers into the boy’s sides and making him squeak adorably. “Stop it!” He continued to squeak. Glamrock Freddy loved it when his boy laughed. It made him feel alive and he was certain it made him feel better too. To laugh and have joy surge in him. Glamrock Freddy noticed he doesn’t laugh as much as most children he would meet on the daily. He guessed he was terribly shy. To be honest, he didn’t react like most kids, he felt that Gregory was lonely. Just meeting him made Gregory feel better and he was still shy but he made more of an effort to socialize with others thanks to the gang’s encouragement. 

He continued to jab him as gently as possible as he didn’t want to hurt him. He stopped after a few minutes and ruffled Gregory’s hair again. “Y-you’re mean” He pants. “I am not mean Gregory. Its not in my programming, I am playful and energetic.” “Not energetic enough to catch Roxy when she’s running.” The boy then stuck out his tongue at him. Glamrock Freddy playfully rolled his eyes and picked Gregory up in his arms. 

“Hey Freddy, where are the others?” “Working on their performances for the talent show after closing hours.” Gregory looked at him dumbfounded. “You guys have talent shows?” Freddy nodded. “Yes, what do you think we do after hours? Scare the night guards?” ;) “I am pretty sure Vanessa would hate that.” Glamrock Freddy chuckled. “Yes, yes she would.” Glamrock Freddy walked towards the green rooms. Specifically his, passing both the sun and moon animatronic jumping along beams and pipes. “Freddy, w-what are t-they d-doing? Noting his slight stutter he rubbed the boy’s back to calm him. “Its ok. They are not going to harm you. I would take a guess and say they are playing. Better than Moondrop pranking us constantly till 6 am.” He sighed. “Figured the sun animatronic would be asleep right now.” “Asleep? Oh, powered down correct?” Glamrock Freddy nodded. Ruffling his hair again, another thing he noticed. Gregory didn’t react to affection very well and was confused by it. Just when Glamrock Freddy showed him these acts of affection he slowly became more comfortable to his touch and didn’t flinch when he came too close. 

“Why don’t we play a game? To pass the time.” He suggested. Partially to get his thoughts at ease. His metal feet clanking against the tiles of the pizzeria museum. Gregory nodded and thought of the 20 question game.”20 questions hmm? I’ve never played it before. I guess we can try. Do we just ask each other questions till we reach 20?” Gregory looked up at him with bright brown eyes. “I guess so. Should I start or you?” His metal jaw maneuvered into a smile and said he’ll start. 1. what’s your favorite color?” “Yellow. 2. What’s your favorite music?” “Hmm. I’d say 80′s rock.” Gregory laughed. “Don’t you guys play 80′s rock? There has to be something else.” Gregory laughed. “To be honest, I am not certain but I do have an assortment of songs. 3. what’s your favorite past time?” “I’d say coloring or drawing. 4. Who’s your favorite Glamrock member?” Freddy shook his head. “I don’t have a favorite , they are all family to me. That also includes you and sadly Vanessa.” He leaned his head down to nuzzle him. Gregory leaned his head towards the nuzzling with a small smile on his face, 

Just to think, a few weeks ago he was afraid of him doing that thinking he was going to hurt him. Which brought back the thoughts he had about his family. Gregory felt like his child. In other words, his cub. The others would mention or joke how he and Gregory have gotten closer and Vanessa mentioning that she had a feeling the reason was because he didn’t have a father or the relationship wasn’t as great as it was supposed to. “I been at their house, I didn’t see a picture of the father. Just Gregory and his mother. Makes me wonder though.” It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right? “5. What is your family like?” Gregory’s cheerful smile slowly faded. He looked nervous and didn’t know what to say. “Why do you want to know about that?” He asks. His voice becoming shy and soft. “Well, I have been thinking over it lately. And wondered what families are like, outside the complex.” Gregory looked down and seemed to think it over before sighing. “You already seen my mom. Right?” “I have, and Vanessa told us that she met her and they usually get smoothies together.” “Well, my mom is around but since she works at the diner and she isn’t home a lot. But she tries her best to raise me. Making sure everything is ok and that I am doing well.” 

Glamrock Freddy’s metallic ears twitched. “Are you usually alone?” “Sometimes, but she’ll have me stay with the neighbor or have a family member watch me if they have time and if they don’t mind.” Gregory took on a saddened look that Glamrock Freddy didn’t like seeing. As much as he wanted to do something but he let him continue. “She cares a lot about me. She doesn’t want me to be alone but she doesn’t have much of a choice. She’s a good person Freddy. She just has it hard.” “What about your father? What does he do?” “He....he is....not around anymore Freddy. I don’t know my dad....all that well....” Glamrock Freddy titled his head in confusion. “What do you mean? Did he pass away or...?” Gregory shrugged. “Mom doesn’t like talking about it. No less mentioning him. Sometimes I feel like when she does or someone mentions him, she gets visibly upset. So I never ask her. I doubt I want to know when she gets upset.” Gregory looked down and looked as if about to cry. “Is that why you don’t react well to affection? They don’t show much of it?” Gregory shrugged. “I-I don’t know Freddy.” Noting the boy was becoming more upset. He held him close and started consoling him. 

“Mom sometimes mentions I look just like him.” He sobs slightly. “Almost like she hates and loves the idea of me looking like him. Sometimes I feel like she hates me for it but doesn’t want to show it.” Glamrock Freddy felt rage surge in him. It wasn’t his cub’s fault that he has some resemblance to his father that he had no knowledge about. “It’s not your fault Gregory. Never was, you hear. You are special. Special to me. Your mother is strong, but even us adults can have our moments of self anger. You may not know him but its not your fault. I am so sorry you had to go through that.” Gregory hugged him and snuggled against his chest. He felt Glamrock Freddy nuzzle him again and stroking his back and hair. Luckily these actions helped him calm down. “I wasn’t joking when I said that you are part of our family. We love you Gregory. I love you my little cub.” Gregory couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Every word coming from his mouth more genuine than the next. He cried out of happiness and said softy. “I love you too. And I hope you don’t mind me seeing you as a father to me.” “I don’t mind my cub. I don’t mind at all.”

[averyhappychainsawhalloween]

Reverence | Part 4

Thomas Hewitt X You

It took a week before you were alone with Thomas again. For someone so strong and imposing he sure did get bullied around a lot. Hoyt was constantly sending him to the basement and you back to the kitchen with Luda Mae. At first a kind smile came easily to your lips but as the days dragged on it was becoming harder and harder to hide your annoyance with the sheriff. You wanted to be polite and nice but you only had so much time left. 

It was a Saturday morning and you were sitting at the kitchen table cutting out biscuits with Luda Mae. The matriarch of the family seemed to enjoy your company and obviously wanted good things for Tommy. You usually kept conversation light with her but as the clock on the wall ticked away another hour in the house you decided it was now or never. 

“Do you think Tommy likes me?” you asked, your voice breaking there serene quiet of the morning. Luda Mae looked over her shoulder from where she stood at the stove. 

“Of course he does, he’s friendly to you ain’t he?” she said. 

“I just don’t get to see him. Hoyt is always sending him away and I thought maybe he didn’t like me.” You dragged your finger through the flour on the table drawing a circle in the mess. 

“Oh honey,” Luda Mae swept across the table and took a seat beside you. “We’re all protective of Thomas, Hoyt just doesn’t want his feelings to get hurt.” 

“But I’d never hurt his feelings. I could be his protector,” you said, inching to the edge of your seat. Luda Mae paused, considering your words. Her eyes glanced to the hallway and then back to you. 

“Hoyt won’t be awake for at least another hour,” she said quietly. “Go ahead and head downstairs, he doesn’t need to know.” 

The woman patted your hand but you grabbed her and pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“Thank you, Luda Mae!” Before the woman could respond you were up and gone, flour dusted fingers already opening the basement door. 

-

You weren’t thinking. Your heart was loud in your ears and your smile hanging freely from your lips as you took the stairs two at a time down into the basement. It was still early morning and it was dim below the house. None of the lights were on and in the dark you couldn’t make out any figures moving around the space. 

Carefully, you started into the basement. After a week you had felt comfortable moving around the house. You had your own room and while the kitchen may be Luda Mae’s domain you had started to feel a small bit of ownership over it. You sat on the stairs, napped on the porch, and walked around in the grass outside. However, the basement was a different beast. You’d only been down twice- when you woke up and when you brought Tommy his dinner a week ago. Since then you hadn’t so much has touched the door, Hoyt had ensured that. 

Every step you took further into the basement felt like you breaking a rule. As you got deeper into the dark you heard a low rumble. Someone snoring. 

Your eyes washed over the basement until you spotted him. A bed pressed into the far corner where a large figure was curled up, snoring in the late morning light filtering in through the uneven boards. 

You grinned and quickly tip toed over to the corner. You wanted to move quickly- after all Luda Mae had given you an hour maybe a little more and you weren’t going to waste it- but tried to quietly. You were close to Thomas’ bed when you shin knocked into a metal handle and a knife was knocked from a low shelf and skid across the concrete floor with a loud scratch. 

Thomas jerked up, the strips of light hitting his face. His hair was tangled from being pressed into a pillow and his face was bare, his leather face put away for the night. You could see blue eyes wide with surprise and a slip of twisted skin before he turned away, placing a large hand over his face. 

“Tommy it’s me,” you said, keeping your voice low. You closed the gap, moving to the side of his bed and kneeling on the floor. Without thinking of the reaction you placed a hand on his arm. He jerked away from your touch, hiding his face by twisting away. 

You looked around you and found the leather mask sitting on a small cabinet beside the bed. You picked it up, feeling the grooves and cracks in the leather with your fingers. 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” you said softly, offering the mask out to him. He peeked through two large fingers before taking it from you. He sat up, his back to you as he wiggled the straps on over his head. You watched the muscles in his back move under a thin layer of shirt. He really was massive. 

Once his mask was on he turned around looking down at you. 

“Luda Mae said I could visit you this morning,” you said with a smile. “Just us.”

Tommy’s eyes flickered to the stairs and then back to your face. 

“Can I sit with you?” you asked, pressing your hand into the mattress beside him. Thomas looked down at your hand invading his space on the bed and then nodded. He shifted over and you slipped under the quilt, pressing against his side. He was warm, nearly comforting. Thomas stiffened as soon as your skin connected and you weren’t surprised. After watching how this house ran for a week you wouldn’t be surprised to find out you had been the only person to touch Thomas Hewitt in years. 

You were about to whisper a few assuring words to him when he shifted. He turned onto his side facing you. You were confronted again with the sheer size of the man and you felt impossibly small so close him. Tommy brought his hand up hesitating before pressing his pointer finger to the scar notched in your upper lip as he had a week ago when you brought him supper. 

He dragged his finger down your lips, tracing the edge of jaw and then the length of your neck. He ran his hand down your collarbone, catching the neckline of your shirt and accidently tugging it aside to display more skin. He paused, pressing the fabric back into place before running his hand down your side, stopping at your waist. At exactly the place you had placed his hands a week ago before Hoyt had barged in. 

He pressed against your side, pulling you close against him. Your head was dizzy, your skin warm and your heart a thrum in yours ears. Perhaps it was the slow conscious decision behind each of his touches that made you react in such a way. Tommy was so deliberate with every movement as if he was studying how to touch you and not simply doing it. Last week you thought it was instinct but now it seemed like he was learning, following a familiar pattern and then slowly deciding the next step. You decided to lay out the next step for him this time. 

“Do you want to kiss me, Tommy?” you asked. He was looking down at you and while the shadows covered his face and hid his eyes you could easily make out the motion of his head when he nodded. 

You reached a hand up, pressing your palm against his cheek. Half of your hand caressed leather the other skin. You pushed yourself up, closing yours eyes as your lips met his through the space in his mask. His lips were surprisingly soft and it didn’t feel like a chore or obligation to kiss them. In fact it made a tingle run down your spine and a warmth spread in your middle. You had kissed people before, but never like this and never for this long. 

You only broke it when your throat burned for air. Gasping, you smiled. Your fingers brushed back brown waves that had fallen over Thomas’ face. His hand still gripped your waist holding you close to him. It was a sweet gesture, one that no movie date had ever done with you before. They tried to shove their tongues down your throat or slid their hands up your shirt. Despite his size and the roughness of his appearance, Thomas’ touches were incredibly gentle. As if he was afraid he might break you if he held you too hard. 

It made your heart skip a beat. 

“I like kissing you,” you confessed, your cheeks flushed. Tommy paused. His hand left your waist and pressed against your cheek mirroring your own hand. His thumb ran over your cheekbone. Then he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. His mouth was more urgent, and you could taste the sweetness of his skin. It was mesmerizing and you wanted more. Without parting your kiss you moved, sitting up in the bed so you could have better access to his mouth. Your hand fell from his cheek and clutched his shoulder. 

Suddenly it was a mess of limbs wanting to explore more, feel more. In your urgency you pulled yourself onto Thomas’ lap, your knees straddling his hips. His arms were locked around you, his mouth hungry against yours. Your body was warm, flooding with more and more want. You weren’t even thinking of your plans anymore. The outside world was far from your mind, instead it was filled with thoughts of Thomas Hewitt and nothing else. 

Your tongue pressed between his lips and he moaned, his hands clutching you tighter. Your hands were hooked into his hair as you explored his mouth, and you could feel him growing hard beneath it. 

You were both clay in each other’s hands being molded together. 

Suddenly a banging came form upstairs. Like the sound of someone slamming something against the floor. Thomas’ lips left yours and you both went silent, listening for more. You could hear Monty upstairs, his voice raised speaking to someone. 

Tommy plucked you off his lap and placed you on the mattress beside him. He got out of bed, pulled his apron on and picked up a chainsaw from a nearby table. 

Dread sank into the pit of your stomach where just a moment ago pleasant anticipation had crackled. 

“What are you going to do?” you asked, yours eyes moving to the chainsaw’s long blade. It was stained red with blood. Tommy hesitated before rushing over to stand beside the bed. He bent down and pressed a kiss to your forehead and then headed up the stairs. 

You heard the roar of a chainsaw and the screaming of some poor soul in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the warmth from Thomas’ lips still lingered against your skin. 

[hellpotter]

Hello! How about 48 or 51 from the prompt list of you want to 💛

i might have slept with your robe while you were gone | percabeth (I guess?)

Annabeth hadn’t expected she’d become so attached to Sally. Sure, she’d always liked her a lot, but after Percy had disappeared, they’d grown closer and closer together. Now, she was like an older sister or a mother or... Annabeth didn’t know well how to put it in words. She just knew Sally was now someone necessary for her sanity to be kept. She was sure she wouldn’t be dealing with Percy’s disappearance if it wasn’t for her. She knew she wouldn’t have the strength to carry on. She just knew they helped each other survive, and that was enough.

That’s why, the day after she met her mother on the subway, she just knew maybe seeing Sally would help her feel better.

It had been a crappy week. It had been some crappy weeks, actually. But now, with that burning drachma on her pocket and that whole bunch of nonsense about revenge and the Mark of Athena in her head... It was just too much. She felt like crying and screaming and punching someone all at once. She needed comfort. She needed Percy.

So, she didn’t think much about it before showing up at Sally Jackson’s apartment. She didn’t think about the abnormal number of monsters she’d found and fought on her way there, or the bruises they’d left her with. She didn’t register the environment around her before walking in and hugging her, and then being led to a comfortable sit at her couch. She wasn’t surprised when she found herself crying and trembling and holding a cup of tea while spilling out her feelings.

They talked about what happened. They tried to figure it out. They talked about Percy. They cried and they held each other together. And soon (or maybe long hours after) Annabeth felt like there were no more tears inside her to be shed. She felt cleaner and less overwhelmed, but at the same time, she felt strengthless, like all the energy she had in her body had been drained. So she just sat there and stared at the ground.

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly, which made Sally raise her eyebrows.

“What for?”

“I- For everything. For not being able to keep him safe. For not keeping it together. For showing up like that without notice,” she stared at the window and watched the sun go down, unable to look inside Sally’s red eyes.

“Hey,” a hand on her shoulder made Annabeth reestablish eye contact. “Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry about. None of that is your fault. And I don’t mind you showing up. You’re not alone, and you being here reminds me that I’m not, either.”

She could only nod and pull her into a hug that she wasn’t sure how long lasted.

“I hope we can find him,” she whispered.

“We will,” Sally muttered back. “We have to believe it.”

When they broke apart, Sally looked at the clock and got up suddenly. “Oh gods,” she looked down at Annabeth, apologetically. “Honey, I have to go. I promised Paul I would go to the grocery store before picking him up at school, so I really have to leave now.”

Annabeth started to get up, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder again. “Why don’t you stay here?”

“What?”

Sally bit her lip. “Stay for dinner, at least. You can wait here and we can all have dinner together when I’m back with Paul. I’ll make some pasta or we can order pizza. We can drive you back if it’s too late.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure how to feel about it, but she suddenly felt the urge for some traditional family time, and shook her head. “Okay. That sounds good.”

When Sally smiled to her, she thought maybe it was the first time she’d seen it in a long, long time. ���Good. And Annabeth, maybe you can take a shower and try to calm down while I’m out, honey. I think it’ll make you feel better.”

“Oh. I don’t-“

“I’ve got some clothes on the bathroom cabinet, you can borrow them.”

“O-okay.”

It wasn’t long before Sally left and Annabeth caught herself sitting there staring at the sky again, loosing herself in the burning feeling of the silver drachma near her skin. Then she took a moment to feel the pain on her body and noticed the dirt and bruises she’d been left with, from her short travel to the apartment. So she decided a shower might not be a bad idea, after all.

The hot water helped comfort her, and even though she had to keep the same underwear, the feeling of clean clothes on her body made her feel her head clearer, her thoughts and feelings lighter, somehow. Still, the cotton shorts and shirt she’d found on the cabinet made her feel chilly, so she grabbed a light robe that she saw hanging behind the door.

She was on her way back to the couch when she passed through the door to Percy’s room, that was slightly open. She stopped, considering. And then took a deep breath before walking in.

Everything inside screamed Percy Jackson. The poorly done bed, the dark blue sheets and the posters and drawings on the walls. The opened bag with school books left hanging on the wall and the old skateboard leaning besides the wardrobe.

It all brought back to her the memory of him, the way his hair was never properly on place and he didn’t seem to mind. The way his eyes lightened up when he talked about something he liked and darkened whenever he was worried or they were in danger... Whenever he looked at her hoping he hadn’t said or done anything wrong.

Also, the smell. Somehow, the place still smelled salty, like the ocean was just around the corner.

Finally, the photographs. The picture of him besides his mom in Montauk when he was a kid. The one were he and Grover stood on the strawberry fields, and the one where he and Tyson held their skateboards, arms around each other, childish grins on their 13-years-old faces. And then... The one where he had his arms around her, wrapping her in a hug from behind, huge smiles on their faces as they looked to the camera in Central Park.

She could almost feel his arms on her body, the safeness in it. Like he had vanished just two seconds ago, instead of days and weeks and... Like he was just behind the door, in the hallway, and could walk a few steps and wrap her in that homey hug again.

And then she was crying again, and wrapping her own arms around her and laying on his bed because she couldn’t trust her legs to keep her standing. And then her eyes were just too tired and her mind was just too much and her heart was just too heavy for her to be awake for a minute more.

***

She woke up at the sound of Sally coming home with Paul.

“We’re back!”

By the time she reached Percy’s room, Annabeth had already gotten up, but she was sure her face and clothes basically had written all over them that she’d been napping.

Sally stopped at the doorway and turned on the lights.

“Annabeth?”

“Gods- Sally, I’m sorry, I,” she looked at the ground. “I might have slept with your robe while you were gone.”

She was sure her face was as red as Apollo’s sacred cows.

Sally’s mouth turned slightly up into a side smile. “It’s alright, honey.”

They stood in silence for a while, Annabeth facing the ground until she found the courage to look Sally in the eyes and was surprised by how welcoming and warm they still were.

“Why don’t you sleep here tonight? You can stay in Percy’s room. Maybe it’s better if you’re not alone tonight.”

Annabeth nodded affirmatively.

“Okay, then. You can grab some of his clothes if you want, too. If it’ll keep you warmer.”

“Okay.”

“Well, c’mon then. I could use some help in the kitchen.”

She turned to leave, but Annabeth finally found her voice. “Sally?”

She stopped and turned back to her, with questioning eyes.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“We’re family, honey. That’s what we do. We stick together.”

Annabeth was glad she didn’t find it hard to trust her.

[leftonraed]

The Night We Met - Episode 1

pairing : Taehyung x OC genre : bodyguard!au, singleparent!au, idol!au word count : 2.4k summary — Taehyung gets terrible news and finds himself in a delicate situation

Prologue | ep.1 | ep.2 | ep.3 | ep.4 | ep.5 | ep.6 | ep.7 

The past month has been a complete blur. If you asked Taehyung to narrate the course of events after the moment he had been in charge of his niece, he wouldn’t be able to, especially when that small time frame included the one event he thought he’d never attend this quickly in his lifetime —

Hwiin got a little startled after he answered the door. While gauging his mood after several weeks of silence, she couldn’t take her eyes off the sullen man who seemed absent.

He was dressed in a dark suit. His hair was fully covering his eyes and had been dyed black, she was just at that moment able to notice it’d never been that long before.

The small heels of his shoes echoed loudly inside as he shuffled towards the living-room.

The gloomy winter sky, visible through the wide windows, narrowed the penthouse and gave the impression they lived in a black and white movie.

The shades of grey clashed unpleasantly with the barely audible cartoons displayed on the wide flat screen where Hina was sitting in front of. She hardly glanced Hwiin’s way.

She removed her purse and coat and put them on the couch while Taehyung kissed and whispered words to his niece. He didn’t get any response either. He stood up and joined Hwiin.

“I didn’t know how to do this-” he trailed softly as her eyes followed his hands feebly unfolding a paper with her eyes. He cleared his throat constricted with sorrow, “I wrote a couple of things down. If I forgot anything, send a text.”

She took it from him and realised she hadn’t said anything yet. What were you supposed to say in this situation, she wondered. The man she thought she knew so well almost struck her as a stranger and left her struggling for the right words.

Hwiin carefully looked up at him and felt her heart hurting at his sight. She should’ve been there for him those past weeks. She became angry with herself the longer she stared at his forlorn expression.

“Taehyung...” She hugged him tightly, as her way to make it up to him. He remained still. He didn’t want Hina to see him break down and cry.

“Thank you,” he only managed to whisper before she took a step back.

She quietly watched him walk out and never before had she felt a greater need to be by his side. She didn’t do anything of this sort.

She walked around the couch to sit next to the little girl she had been requested to look after for the day and tried to empty her mind. All she wanted was for this day to end.

So did he.  

___________________________________________

He didn’t seem present during the entirety of the funeral.

His parents, he used to be so close to but had drawn away from after his debut as an idol, didn’t even manage to make him say anything. They didn’t bother him about it and respected his own way of mourning the family loss.

Taehyung could sense his brother’s in-laws itching to ask him about Hina but held themselves.

While he made other attendees think he looked elsewhere and “too expressionless” in their opinion, he’d actually been doing his best to keep it to himself. He couldn’t tell what helped him hide his emotions, it was so unlike him but he had held steady.

He was right behind his home’s door when he heard Hina’s cries before he even walked in.

Worry instantly frowned his face as he found Hwiin holding the little girl in her arms, soothing her.

“She’s been crying the whole time since she woke up from her nap,” she informed him with a hint of despair. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Hina looked at him and he felt his feet naturally pulling him towards her when her arms stretched outward in his direction.

He held her closely and she tightened him to herself, burying her face in his neck.

He would never know for sure but she sounded grief-stricken and gave him the impression that he was the only one left capable of assuaging her.

Taehyung felt his legs give in and knelt down.

He was finally giving in.

Tears, held deeply back within, coursed down in an unbroken stream to dampen her dress. His body hiccoughed his ache so violently, it seemed it wanted to retaliate for the strains he’d inflicted himself.

Hwiin watched silently with sorrowful eyes as the two of them sought comfort in each other. She caught herself wondering if his niece somehow understood she’d never see her parents again.

__________________________________________

Taehyung never questioned his brother’s wish to have him take care of his daughter if something were to happen. He isn’t living the ideal kind of life to raise a toddler and there are many to criticize him about it, his manager being the first of them, but having Hina feels surprisingly right.

He’s grateful to have her keeping his mind off things but she also reminds him unintentionally of her father and the other way around will inevitably happen.

He sometimes ponders the doubts he has as a caretaker, unpleasant thoughts that come flooding his mind every time he’d fail doing the right thing or get rejected by her; he gives a chance to others scenarios playing out different outcomes but they never satisfy him.

He seeks comfort in the reality that he needs a lot of time to get better at it and that there’s no reason to rush. It’ll give him enough to make his mind about the way he’ll have to address their reality one day.

One of his priorities is to make sure his home has everything his niece would need. This meant visiting his brother’s empty house. Hwiin had asked him if he’d need her but he preferred to be on his own and planned not to linger longer than necessary.

__________________________________________

“You didn’t tell me what you’re planning to do about the few shows left,” Hwiin suddenly initiates, locking her phone.

Taehyung sighs when Hina whines at his umpteenth attempts to keep her from drawing on the wall. Defeated, he stands up to show his manager out.

“Did you hear from Seojun?”

“Nope. I sent him a text a few days ago. He never answers my calls.”

“I can’t see myself going anywhere with her. And I’m definitely not bringing her with me.”

It’s Hwiin’s turn to sigh, although she does it out of light exasperation. “What about my babysitter idea?”

“Out of question.” She lifts her head at his sudden firm tone. “I don't want her to be around strangers.”

“What will you do if you don’t hear from him anymore? Taehyung, you can’t stay at home indefinitely.”

“If I have no choice-” He cuts off himself. “I’m sure everyone will understand.”

She pinches her lips and cranes her neck up to stare somewhere in the empty hallway, keeping her calm.

Leaning on the hand he’s holding the door with, Taehyung tilts his head to glance at her with a hint of amusement.

“I’ll call him myself.”

She looks back at him and blinks slowly, thankful. They say their goodbyes and he closes the door.

When he comes back, Hina’s still putting the finishing touches to her art and Taehyung ponders the thought of throwing the felt tips away once she’s done with them.

He plops himself down on the couch and takes his phone out of his pocket. He quickly finds his bodyguard’s number and makes a phone call. The line rings once.

“Taehyung!”

“H-hi,” he answers, surprised at the man’s quick answer. “It’s been a while. How are you?”

“I’m happy you called! I’m doing really good. What about you?”

“I’m okay- I think.”

“I know you’ve heard it when we last talked but I’m really, really sorry.”

“Thank you. I’m doing okay, ‘promise.”

Seojun doesn’t need to see him to doubt his words but gives him the benefit of the doubt. He tries to change the subject, “How’s the little one doing?”

“Good…” Taehyung’s gaze is directed at Hina's long hair. “I still didn’t get one word from her though.”

“Don’t worry about it, she’ll talk when she’s ready. You shouldn’t force these things.”

Taehyung hums in thought. “How did your break go? How’s everyone ?”

“Very good. Everyone’s doing great.”

“Glad to hear that!” Taehyung smiles a lazy grin and remembers the purpose of his call. “Seojun, I’m sorry I bring this a little abruptly but- when do you think you’ll be coming back? Hwiin told me she tried to contact you-”

“Ah yes,” he suddenly exclaims. “I actually wanted to talk to you directly.”

Amused, Taehyung’s brows furrow slightly. “Right.”

“I’ve never liked the way she looked down on people. But you do well to bring that up.”

He frowns a little more, anticipating.

“I… I don’t think I’ll be coming back anytime soon, Taehyung.” There’s a short pause. “I've been thinking about it lately and we’ve talked a lot with my wife… The fact is that- my family misses me and I miss them.”

Taehyung doesn’t know what to say immediately, “I’m sorry to hear that... But I understand.”

“Really? It’s just that- they’ve barely seen me the past six years and I thought maybe I needed to extend that break for a little longer while.” Seojun feels terrible now that he’s brought the news. As if the death of his brother wasn’t enough of a change.

“I totally do- I just- I don’t know what to do to keep working and look after my niece at the same time. I mean, th- there’s no one else I trust equally to look after her when I can’t.”

“I know and I’ve made sure you guys wouldn’t be left hanging.” He’s quick to reply, “I found someone to take over. Your agency’s already abreast of it. They’re okay to hire that person but they told me they wouldn’t make any decision until they get your last word.”

“Can you tell me more about him?”

“It’s actually a woman, she’s around your age. She’s attended the same security school I did and was the top of her class. I know her personally and was the one who offered to take the helm. I wouldn’t recommend anyone else to stand in for me.”

Taehyung would never doubt Seojun. They regard each other as family, so if Seojun trusted that woman enough to take charge of his responsibilities, he wouldn’t question him further.

“Okay.”

And it’s not like he could think of a better solution to tell Hwiin.

Seojun is relieved when he hears his answer, however he can feel he doesn’t seem totally convinced.

“I promise you, you won’t miss me once she starts.”

___________________________________________

“Hina,” complains Taehyung. “Why are you being so difficult? I thought you liked mashed carrots.”

He’s helpless and covered in what once has been her lunch. She’s on the verge of crying and shaking her legs, irritated. Her arm sways her small plate and Taehyung catches it before she makes an even bigger mess. She starts whining loudly.

“One second,” he mutters while cleaning her stained face before standing up to take her out of the high chair. She stops crying and leaves to watch cartoons still on T.V.

“I’ll go change. I’ll be in the bedroom,” he announces like he doesn’t know he’ll be ignored and leaves.

The doorbell rings a couple of minutes after, taking both Taehyung and Hina by surprise.

Seeing her uncle nowhere around, she stands up to totter toward the entrance holding onto her soft toy. Taehyung just got rid of his dirty clothes when he decides to come out only dressed in a pair of red boxers, remembering he’s expecting Hwiin to come by.

He finds Hina trying to reach for the handle, perched on her tippy-toes.

“Let me help you,” he smiles lightly at her when he looks down, seeing her small face after she craned her neck to the fullest. He taps in the security code and opens and she hurries to push it wide open.

“Hello.”

Hina walks to go behind him at the sight of a stranger. There’s a short silent while that lasts awfully long the second Taehyung understands he’s in his underwear and that he doesn’t recognize you.

“You’re not Hwiin,” he trails quietly.

You shake your head looking back at him very calmly.

From the corner of your eye, you notice his niece hiding behind his leg, peeking shyly at you. You squat at her level and blood rushes up Taehyung’s cheeks.

“You’re Hina, right?” You look at her. “This is for you.”

He pulls himself together. “You didn’t have to,” he chuckles abashed.

His niece stares at the toy piano you offer her. You press one key to make a sound and lit it up in hopes to get her pleased with it.

Taehyung can’t help but think a gift is the last thing she deserves after the tantrum she threw just minutes ago. “Say thank you, Hina.”

She carefully takes it from you and there’s a hint of a satisfied smile on your lips.

“Who’s Hwiin?” You gaze up at Taehyung.

Shit. You need to get up. He needs to put on some clothes, he thinks.

“My manager. Are you-”

“Y/N, your new bodyguard.” You straighten up with your hands behind you.

“Taehyung. Nice to meet you.” He feels Hina, pulling the hem of his boxers and swiftly takes her in his arms. She keeps an iron grip on the toy. “Uh- Please, come in.”

You step inside when he moves away and closes the door behind you. He stares at you as you take a look around, surprised you remain unaffected by his lack of clothing but still thinks it’s not the appropriate way he should have welcomed you in.

“I’m sorry about the mess, I didn’t know you’d come home so early.” He explains as he puts down Hina. “Make yourself at home. ‘Be right back.”

You watch him disappear without a word, his niece follows him while gazing curiously at you. You bring your eyes back on the splendid view the penthouse overlooks.

When Taehyung comes back, closely followed, you’re still standing nearby the window. He’s intrigued and curious as to what made you so special in Seojun’s eyes.

///////////////////////!\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Feedback very much appreciated  Reblog if you wish to read more

[apparitionism]

Why

I want to wish a very happy Gift Exchange Day to @mysensitiveside ​ ! This gift, a short and sweet AU, will keep on giving for a while, in that I wasn’t able to fling the whole thing across the finish line for you today. (No surprise, I’m sure, given my posting pace over the past... um... some time.) A second part will appear sooner rather than later, however, and I hope that the whole thing will be to your liking. Thanks of course go to @kla1991 for the organization of the whole  @bering-and-wells-exchange extravaganza... and I do just want to say that, as for my own reasons (reasons as such being quite relevant to this story), I still love Myka and Helena, and everybody in this bar, very much.

Why

“Why are you here?” Myka Bering asked of the dog she discovered in the hallway, gazing up at her, when she opened the door of her apartment one Saturday morning.

The dog blinked.

“Aren’t you Sam’s dog?”

The dog blinked again.

Things happen for a reason.

Myka had always been sure of that. So much so that it had shaped her idea of heaven: surely, the experience of paradise was nothing more, less, or other than finally being in possession of all the reasons.

When she was small, her “WHY?” refrain hadn’t distinguished her from her peers, but while most other children eventually gave up the incessant repetitions of that question, she never did. She discovered early on, however, that knowing whom to ask made an enormous difference in the quality of the answers she received: her mother’s exasperated “Because” was endlessly frustrating, as was her father’s equally unsatisfying “It’s magic.”

Which was why she became a research chemist, her choice of career happening for just that reason: it was always going to be a science of some sort, for the “why” questions—which she tended to ask internally now—had answers, if she put enough effort into finding them.

So it struck her as strange, that morning, to find herself asking “why” of a neighbor’s dog, out loud. The quality of any answer she got wasn’t likely to be high.

She had never seen the dog this dirty before. He... was it a he? maybe? she thought she’d heard “boy” at some point... had always seemed a little disheveled, his coat fluffed but lopsided, like he always slept on it wrong and nobody bothered with a comb. But never like this. Never with actual dirt.

She picked up the dog—he weighed less than she expected; she hadn’t realized how much of him was fur—and with some trepidation went to knock on Sam’s door.

No answer.

Myka took the dog back to her apartment. “Are you hungry?” she asked him. He blinked.

She had no idea what dogs ate, other than dog food, and she had no dog food.

She discovered that dogs ate several slices of cheese, a ham sandwich, a peanut butter sandwich, and a corn tortilla. Then dogs took a nap, no doubt exhausted from all the eating.

After numerous fruitless attempts at Sam’s door throughout the day, Myka called Mr. Nielsen, the super. “Sam moved out,” she was told. “Couple weeks ago. No forwarding address.”

“But I have his dog.”

“That’s nice of you,” Mr. Nielsen said.

“You don’t understand. I didn’t intend to have his dog.”

“Then maybe it isn’t nice. It’s not my problem either way.” He hung up.

Myka hadn’t liked Sam. He had asked her out, and she had said no, because he made her nervous. Anyone asking her out made her nervous, but this felt... different. She sensed she’d been right to turn him down, for he got visibly offended, in a way that made her even more nervous, such that she avoided him as much as possible afterward. He didn’t seem like a good person. But to move away and leave his dog behind?

She considered taking the dog to the animal shelter. What was she going to do with a dog? “What am I going to do with a dog?” she asked the dog in question. He blinked.

“I guess it’s you and me, dog,” she said after that Saturday turned into a weekend, the weekend into a week, one week into two.

And he looked at her as if to ask not “why?” but “what took you so long?”

She bought a leash. A bed. Actual dog food. So many products. “I’ve never shopped this much for myself,” she told him. She couldn’t decipher his blink in response to that information. Was it “But of course you should buy more for me” or “You should buy more for yourself”?

As it happened, he was a responsibility in ways she had not expected to enjoy. She had to leave work at midday, every day, to go home and walk him. She had that thing to do, and she did it. Her lab neighbor Abigail teased her about the dog being just an excuse to escape the lab, an excuse who probably didn’t even exist. “He’s real,” Myka protested. “I even had to come up with a name for him.”

Abigail laughed. “Sure you did.”

“Leukotriene.”

Pause. “Okay, now I’m convinced. Mostly. But I still want photo evidence.”

It hadn’t occurred to Myka to take a picture of the newly named Leukotriene, but she did so that night. She included a ruler in the photo for scale, lest Abigail mistake him for a Pomeranian, which was the breed—as far as Myka could tell, given her limited dog knowledge—he most resembled. The next day, “That’s him,” she said.

“Your dog.”

“I guess so.”

“He’s really... pretty.”

At home that night, she told him, “Abigail thinks you’re pretty.” He did the blink. “Yes,” she affirmed, “I do too.”

She shortened his name to “Leuko.” He didn’t seem to hate it. Then again, he wasn’t very vocal, positively or negatively.

She took him on walks, increasingly long ones, on the winding trails of the city’s largest park. She had never been a walker, but Leuko was... well, no: he was a trotter. A delighted, peppy trotter. Myka tried to match his bright energy, but she didn’t ever feel the same shine. It made her unaccountably happy, though, to see him that happy.

When she bathed him, he suffered it (no bright energy there), but she had a sense that he knew how impressive he looked when he was clean. His fluffy tan coat expanded into even greater glossy magnificence, an invitation to sink fingers in, and it rewarded the venture.

The best part, though, was when she would sit on the sofa, reading a journal or, less frequently, a novel, and he would lie against her, sighing as she rested her hand against his soft, warm body.

It was easy to forget that Sam had ever existed. Easy to sink into the belief that she and Leuko had always been a team. That this new texture of her life—this sneaky, responsibility-laden velvet—was a reality that had simply been held in abeyance until the right time. And now was that time.

One Saturday, as they walked in a nearly empty park, enjoying an early cold snap, Myka heard from a great distance an exclamation: “Monty!” She wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but suddenly her leash hand was empty, and Leuko was tearing across an open field, toward a solitary female figure, barking, making noise like he’d finally learned, or just remembered, that he had a voice.

Myka took off after him, drawing near at the moment he leapt—yes, leapt—into the woman’s arms.

She was striking, with dark eyes that rhymed with Leuko’s... in fact, she rhymed entirely with him, with his beauty. She looked up from him to Myka, those dark eyes widening, seemingly shocked to find another person present. “This is my dog,” she said, a little halting, as if she were trying the words out. Or as if she were coaxing them back into her mouth from far away.

Myka’s breath seized. “No,” she said, forcing the word out. “He’s my dog.”

“He is not. He’s mine. You can see it.”

Myka could see it. It drove ice in her heart to see it, to see him so ecstatic to see someone else, but it was there to be seen. It was there to be heard, too: Myka would never, she was sure, forget that declarative bark.

“He was lost for so long. How did you come to have him?” the woman asked, and Myka, trying to hide that heart-ice, explained about Sam. The woman said, shortly and with pain, “So that’s what happened.” She didn’t offer anything more, and while Myka wasn’t the most sensitive of souls, she could tell that this was not the sort of thing a stranger could ask any question about, not why or wherefore or anything at all.

A stranger. She was a stranger to both of them now, this woman and her dog, a stranger in their way, on the path in front of them—on a path she never should have been on in the first place. And if there was one thing Myka knew how to do, it was get out of the way.

She tried, mightily, to tell herself that that was what she should do: just step away. Let them carry on down the path. You didn’t have a dog before, and you were fine.

Leuko—Monty—looked at her from his perch in the woman’s arms. He blinked.

In response to that, Myka found herself babbling, “Can I... I mean, would you maybe let me... walk him sometime? Because he and I. I mean, or maybe just me. I. I’ll miss... it all.”

“I’m disinclined to let him out of my sight,” the woman said, with seeming care.

Myka didn’t have to ask why. “I don’t mean alone,” she said. “Just to see him.”

The woman looked at the dog in her arms. Did he blink? Whatever he showed her, it was enough. “All right,” she said. “Next week?” At Myka’s nod, she continued, “I should introduce myself. I’m Helena Wells.”

Myka understood even that was a matter of trust. “I’m Myka Bering,” she said, “and let me give you my number so you—”

“I’d rather not,” Helena Wells said, with the same care.

Not overmuch trust. “I can bring you what I bought for him,” Myka said, and maybe it was a flail to show that Helena Wells did not need to doubt her intentions. “If you want.”

“Thank you, but I still have all his things. Always holding out hope.” She said that with a quirk of her lip that Myka envied. Hope—what was it?

But of course Helena Wells had held out hope. Even after Myka’s own short time with Leuko—Monty—she would have done the same thing. Had he suddenly been gone, had she not known why.

The next Saturday morning, Myka spent some time pondering a very strange question: what do you wear to walk your ex-dog with someone who probably wants to forget that you exist?

The relief Myka felt when Helena and Leuko—Monty—appeared... it nearly felled her. There he is, she thought, and he’s all right. Not that she had expected anything different, but it was a relief. After a week she had not understood as a ratcheting up of anxiety, she at last felt relief.

They walked, side by side, Leuko—no, Monty—leading the way, shining even more brightly than Myka had known he could. “I didn’t intend to have your dog,” Myka started. “I didn’t mean to keep him... I mean, to keep him from you. The super can testify to the timeline, and I—”

“It’s all right,” Helena said. “I see that.”

“But I’m trying to tell you why this happened.”

“It doesn’t matter why. He’s here, and I told you, it’s all right.”

“Of course it matters! You’d care if I did try to steal him.”

“But you didn’t,” Helena said, and her words were gentle. “You cared for him. You didn’t have to.”

That left Myka strangely perplexed, because now, in retrospect, what else could have happened? “Of course I did.”

And Leuko—no, Monty—looked up at her, and he did the blink, and Myka knew what it meant: “Of course you did.”

Meeting, walking. They fell into a regular Saturday-walk schedule. As the weeks progressed, Myka’s anxiety gave way to, made room for, anticipation. Leuko—Monty—never barked when he saw Myka, but he did pull on the leash as she approached and gave her a nuzzle when she knelt to greet him.

“Why did you name him Monty?” Myka asked, one Saturday.

That made Helena smile. “I didn’t. His breeder did.”

“His breeder?”

“He’s a Mittelspitz.”

“He’s... a medium? A medium spitz?” Well, that explained his looking like a Pomeranian.

“Precisely.”

Myka felt dim. “But what does that have to do with being called Monty?”

“Nothing, as far as I know. The breeder named his litter after the stars of A Place in the Sun; he’s Montgomery Clift. His sister is Shelley Winters, and his brother is Elizabeth Taylor.”

“His brother? Why?” Myka really did try to limit the asking of that question out loud, but this seemed extra-justified.

“He’s even more beautiful than Monty.”

Did Monty the Mittelspitz turn his head and harrumph at such blasphemy? Myka surely was imagining that. He must have just seen a squirrel. “Poor Shelley Winters, though,” Myka said.

Helena laughed... and Myka felt that she should name that laugh “Elizabeth Taylor” as well. Helena said, “No, no, she’s pretty too. A remarkably lovely litter, and in fact Shelley was the only one who was show quality. If beauty were all it took, Liz would have ruled the circuit.” Another harrumph. “Don’t pout, darling,” Helena said to the dog, then to Myka, “Why did you name him Leuko?”

“After a peptide,” Myka admitted. “Well, a group of peptides.”

“A peptide.”

That was an implicit “why,” and Myka was strangely comforted. “I’m a chemist,” she said.

“A chemist.” Helena furrowed her brow. “How funny that I didn’t know that. How have we not got around to professions?”

Myka wanted to say, “Because when we get close to anything about our real lives, one or both of us backs away.” They still had no contact outside the park, and even as they shared and deepened this strange long-walk familiarity, Myka did not know where the line was. Had it shifted? If not, would it ever? She tried, very cautiously, “I don’t know. Will you... will you tell me yours?”

“I teach writing.”

For some reason, Myka couldn’t hold back her next question, even though it was not justified: “Why?”

“I have knowledge and expertise to impart. Due to having studied writing. And having made a living in the past as a writer myself.”

“That’s a good reason,” Myka said, and she thought, That’s more than you’ve said about yourself in weeks of walks. Was something different about this day?

“Thank you. Though I may not need your imprimatur, I’m pleased to have it.”

Was she... teasing? “I like good reasons,” Myka tried to explain.

“Good reasons. Recognizing them is not inapplicable to the craft of writing.” Helena said this with a funny little bow of her head.

Myka’s facial capillaries flooded with blood.

She knew why, but she hid the answer in her heart, for she remembered all too well Helena’s desolate “So that’s what happened.”

On one of their earlier walks, they had run into Abigail. “How’s little Leukotriene?” she asked. “Or I guess he’s not so little. That’s weird; I thought he was a Pom.”

Myka resisted the impulse to remind her of the ruler in the photo.

The next day, “Who’s your girlfriend?” Abigail asked.

It was the first time Myka really registered that she had continued her habit of going home in the middle of the day. To no purpose at all, she went home, stood in her kitchen, ate a sandwich that no one else wanted any of, and then went back to the lab. It was not a responsibility anymore, and it did nothing for her. She resolved to stop.

“Not my girlfriend,” Myka said, but she was appalled at herself: for a rash moment, she had wanted to let Abigail believe otherwise.

“Walking your dog with her?”

“Not my dog.” On that point, of course, Myka wished she could let herself believe otherwise.

“Pretty sure the dog matched that picture you showed me.”

“He’s her dog.”

“You were trying to pass your girlfriend’s dog off as yours?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. And he was my dog... for a minute.”

Walking in the park every week was not a responsibility. It was a reward.

And as Myka enjoyed her reward, each week, she studied Helena’s face, listened to her words. She tried to tell herself she was merely continuing to assess Helena’s relationship with Leuko. No: Monty. And she was doing that... but she was doing so much more.

How much could Myka continue to hide in her heart? And for how long?

As if in answer, the Saturday following their “professions” discussion, Helena (and Leuko—no, Monty) failed to appear. Myka, desolate at the absence of them both, walked by herself. It was terrible.

The park was empty of them the following week as well. Still, Myka walked, taking the isolation as her punishment for having misunderstood lines and crossing them, for having been so foolish as to let any part of her secret heart show on her face.

The aftermath of that second lonely walk left Myka restless, anxious. Should she try to find Helena and ask her why she had so abruptly decided against... whatever they were doing? Could she then beg her to reconsider walking a dog together to no purpose? “I’ll stop wanting anything more than that,” Myka thought to tell her. “I promise.”

But of course trying to find her was out of the question; if Helena didn’t want even to walk with Myka, she surely didn’t want to be stalked by her.

So Myka did the only thing she could do: the next Saturday, she returned again to the park. And she hoped.

TBC

[argylemnwrites]

Settled

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Cassie Vanderfield); Roomies (+ Bryce and Rafael) friendship also featured

Book: Open Heart (~5 weeks post book 2)

Word Count: ~1400

Rating: PG-13 (rare language)

Summary: A long standing bet is about to be settled.

Author’s Note: Inspiration for this piece comes from a real experience in my undergrad dorm. It also works as a loose follow up to my pieces “Enough” and “Some Definition.” Also written for Day 28 of the @choicesfebchallenge - Closure.

Bryce felt his eyes getting heavy in spite of the early hour and the movie playing across the room. He had just come off a night float block, serving both as the senior resident overnight for the three gen surg wards and completing any ED surgical consults that came in from 5 pm to 7 am. Even though he’d only had to work 18 shifts over the past 28 days, each shift had been frantic, often with barely enough down time to inhale a sandwich. On top of that, he’d basically hadn’t gotten a chance to see the inside of the OR at all. The senior carrying the trauma pager usually got all the overnight cases, since there weren’t many non-traumas that went to the OR in the middle of the night. For the few remaining cases, unless it was a particularly complex case, the attendings usually prioritized letting the interns covering the wards overnight gain some experience. As an intern, Bryce had loved that culture in Edenbrook, but now that he was on the other side, he felt a bit jealous, even if he knew it wasn’t fair.

He was just kind of burnt out, if he had to put a label on things. He’d felt more like an internal med resident for most of the block, something Cassie had teased him about endlessly. But he just didn’t find the work as rewarding as actually operating, the shifts were exhausting, and now, almost a full week off of that block, he was still working to adjust his sleep schedule back to days. Hence him falling asleep in the middle of an action movie at Cassie’s with her roommates and Raf at 6 pm.

“Is he out?” he heard Sienna hiss out, obviously whispering in case he was asleep, forgetting that fact that her voice was far quieter than the explosions currently happening on screen.

“No, he’s not,” Bryce whispered back, drawing a chuckle and a little elbow nudge from Cassie. He dragged his eyes back open to find her turned to face him on the sectional, so he gave her a little grin before he dropped his head to her shoulder and closed his eyes again. “But he might be soon.”

“Seriously?” asked Raf, his voice drifting up from the floor where he and Aurora were lounging in front of the coffee table. “I didn’t think you’d be one to sleep through the latest Tommy Phelps blockbuster.”

“Lahela is a little baby who is still whining about the fact that he was on nights a week ago.” Jackie’s voice was the next one to fill the room. “Or maybe he has the right idea and is done with this dumb garbage. Why did I get up early for this again?”

“Because we only have one year left where we are all going to be in Boston for sure, and times where we are all off for a movie are rare!” Sienna cried out. Bryce felt Cassie shift slightly, presumably reaching over to hold Sienna’s hand or rub her back, but she didn’t move so much that his head was more than slightly jostled on her shoulder.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we had to watch this. Elijah, you don’t get to pick for movie night ever again.” Jackie added.

“Hey, I know my selections aren’t always the most popular, but this wasn’t me!”

“Alright, then who is responsi-”

“It was my pick,” said Aurora. Bryce squinted an eye open at that, glancing down to Aurora, who had twisted around to face Jackie. “What can I say? Sometimes I just need to turn my brain off and watch some shlock.”

“It’s better with a beer,” Raf said with a shrug, before lifting his bottle to his lips and taking a drink. 

“Well, I have to head in for a shift in a couple of hours, so that’s not an option for me,” Jackie said, “so I might have to take a page out of Bryce’s book and just nap.”

Bryce swung his foot towards her as he let his eyes close again, nudging her shin. “Shut up, Varma.”

“What? I’m not mocking you.”

“Sure.”

“I mean, there is plenty for me to mock you for always, but right now I’m not. Avoiding this movie and using Cassie as a pillow is one of your smarter choices.”

“I’m not using her as a human pillow. This is just part of boyfriend privileges, right Cass?”

“Absolutely,” Cassie said, but the room got suddenly very quiet as the explosions and gunfire came to an abrupt halt.

“Why’d you pause the movie?” asked Cassie, but no one answered her. Instead, Aurora asked a different question.

“Elijah, you still got the calendar?”

“Yup, lemme pull it up. I’m pretty sure everyone’s date has already passed, though.”

“What are you guys talking about?”

The room was silent for a few moments, so Bryce opened his eyes and dragged his head off of Cassie’s shoulder, glancing around the room and taking in everyone aggressively avoiding eye contact with him and Cassie. “Seriously, what’s going on?” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s not that bid a deal,” Jackie said with an eye roll. “We had a bet on when you guys would officially be together.”

It took Bryce a couple of seconds to process what she’d said. “Wait, seriously?” he asked with a chuckle.

“It was Elijah’s who organized it,” said Raf, earning him a pillow in the face from Elijah.

“Hey, man!”

“What, it’s the truth?”

“When did you guys start this?” Cassie asked. She was twisting her fingers over each other in her lap, so Bryce slid his right hand in between hers, tugging her left hand over into his lap.

“Elijah took my bet the day after the Hopeful Hearts Gala,” said Aurora, “and I think I was the first one to pick a date. After Elijah, obviously.”

“Wait, this has been going on for months?” Bryce asked.

“Well, you two have been all over each other for years,” said Jackie.

“And you were all in on this? Even you, Sienna?” asked Cassie as she glanced around the room from person to person.

Bryce leaned forward to peer around Cassie. Sienna cheeks were flushed, but she didn’t shy away from looking at the two of them.

“I mean, I was rooting for you two! Plus, Elijah had a PowerPoint which made it all feel so official! And, I don’t know, we’ve all been waiting for you guys to-”

“What she means is we’ve all had to put up with your obnoxious flirting for far too long to not have a bit of fun,” Jackie said, cutting off Sienna’s ramble. However, one thing Sienna said stuck out to him, and apparently to Cassie.

“Elijah, you made a PowerPoint?” she asked, her free hand coming up to her cheek.

It was Elijah’s turn to have his cheeks darken, but he just gave a little shrug. “Like Jackie said, this has been a long time coming. And I was bored in allergy clinic.”

“It was quite the presentation,” said Raf.

“Yeah, we’re gonna need to see that,” added Bryce, shooting Cassie a wink as she shook her head lightly.

“I don’t know if I still have it.” Elijah answered just a little too quickly, making Bryce think he very much did still have it and had no intention of showing it to them. But before he could push him on that, Jackie asked Elijah another question.

“So, quit stalling. Who’s the winner?”

Elijah just shook his head. “Like I said, we all lost. Brittany was the last date, and even hers passed last month.”

“Wait, you got the gen surg residents involved in this as well?” Bryce asked.

“We’ve all been subjected to your prolonged and public teasing,” said Jackie, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to fight her on that statement.

“I mean, I know we’re a good looking couple, but this level of fascination is beyond what even I could have expected.” Bryce’s statement drew groans from almost everyone in the room and pillows chucked at him by Raf, Aurora, and Jackie, but all he could do was squeeze Cassie’s hand before snuggling up against her again, settling in for the end of the movie… and likely a little nap. Their friends could tease them all they wanted. They were happy, and that was all that really mattered.

Permatag: @choicesficwriterscreations @walkerswhiskeygirl  @octobereighth  @kimmiedoo5  @mom2000aggie

Open Heart: @mskaneko @omgjasminesimone @debramcg1106

Bryce x MC: @lahellacute @weaving-in-words  @anotherbeingsworld  @chaotichuman0090 @fortunatelywaywardsandwich   @dreaming-of-movies  @choicesarehard  @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl  @sunnyxdazed​

[gaemkyuu]

The Present

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault/rape, but not overtly descriptive.  A/N: As much as I like writing fluffy pieces or glimpses in time, I really wanted this series to have some sort of progression. A lot of the feelings and emotions that are in this piece was taken from personal experience or the experience of someone close to me. In no way do I claim that all experiences are similar to the one disclosed in this piece of fictional writing. Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece on Charlie Gillespie. In no way do I claim or declare that Charlie’s portrayal is accurate to real life. I do however, own Teagan Valencia :)

Masterlist  *now taking requests ;)

The Teagan Valencia Series: The Meeting  / The Fight / The Proposal / The Present / The Recovery / The Future

***Please note that sensitive topics are addressed in the writing and may cause discomfort or trigger readers. If subjects such as non-consensual sexual engagement, rape or sexual assault cause discomfort, please refrain from reading the story.

The Present

“Cut! That’s a wrap on this scene, great job everyone! Let’s break for lunch” Kenny announced to the crew. He smiled at Teagan releasing a big sigh. As awesome as this all was, it could still be tiring!

“You’re doing a great job Kenny. Seriously, I can’t wait for the second season” Teagan gave Kenny a hug from behind his chair.

“I should be giving you a giant hug Teagan!” Kenny stood up from his directing chair, moving his way to Tegan. “Congratulations on your engagement!” He gave her a big bear hug. “Now let me see the ring!” Teagan showed her his hand and he inspected the ring gleefully. Although they had gotten engaged two weeks ago, this was their first week filming and the first time Kenny saw her since the night of the party.

“I told you I had good taste Kenny” Charlie came over and wrapped his arms around my waist, perching his chin on my shoulders.

“Honey, you didn’t pick out the ring, you just picked it up” Teagan joked as Kenny released her hand. Turning to give Charlie a quick playful peck on the lips, Teagan saw the playful smirk kneeing he had a clever come back.

“I’m not talking about the ring, I’m talking about the person” he smirked kissing her back playfully. “Are you joining us for lunch?” His eyes hopeful.

“Well since you can’t leave the set for a birthday lunch, I guess so” she dramatically sighed acting like she was disappointed.

“Hey! I’m taking you out for dinner! Remember? Birthday dinner?” Teagan’s dramatic façade broke and Charlie realized he fell for it. “Sometimes I wonder why you're not the one in front of the camera”.

Charlie kissed her on the cheek and led her to lunch with the rest of the cast. As usual Maddy already had the designated brownie plate that both of them shared from and Savannah was able to join them as she finished in hair and make up. Everyone had a fun time chatting and hanging out at lunch but they had to continue filming. Charlie, Owen and Jeremy had to go get touched up and a new wardrobe on, but he left Teagan in the company of Booboo and Savannah, as Maddy went to go take a nap. 

“Hey Savannah, we are going to need you and Maddi on set soon” the three of them jumped at the sudden interruption from the new Production Assistant. His eyes piercing and intense staring at Teagan. “I’m James the new Production Assistant and you are?”

“I’m Charlie’s fiancé, I’m just visiting him on set today.” Teagan smiled back politely despite feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. She came to understand that this was the new PA that kept coming up in their group chat. It was no secret that a majority of the cast who had interacted with him felt slightly uneasy. Owen had been changing in the wardrobe trailer when he “popped out of nowhere and scared the living shit” out of Owen. Jeremy had been sneaking onto the set to take a nap in Julie’s infamous bed when he found James lurking around in the dim lighting. There were a few other stories that Teagan remembered, but she waved it off as James being misunderstood as he was new to the cast.

“Oh yeah! Sure! I’ll go get Maddi” Savannah stood up quickly getting ready to film.  

“Well ladies, it was a fun lunch, but I’m done on set and need to head over to a photo shoot” Booboo smiled collecting their lunch mess and glancing at his watch. “Which starts in an hour, shit. I better get going. Happy Birthday again Teagan, I wish I could be there tonight!”

“Don’t worry about it Booboo, let’s take a raincheck” Booboo gave her a big hug and waved them goodbye. “Hey I’ll come with you since I’m going to hang out in Charlie’s trailer” she stopped Savannah getting out of her chair too. “As much as I love watching him act, I know he has the Switch in his trailer and I want to play Mario Kart”

Savannah giggled at her friend and the two of them noticed James still standing there. “I’ll go grab Maddi if you want to let Kenny know we are on our way” Savannah smiled at the PA, who simply gave a curt nod, never taking his eyes off of Teagan. The two girls waited until he was no longer in their line of sight before moving towards the trailers. “Between you and me, I heard he’s being let go at the end of the week”

“What? Why?” Savannah looked incredulously at Teagan, shocked at her response. “Okay, I know he’s kinda weird and freaking people out, but what if it’s because he’s new?“

“He was hired last minute because of some pregnancy complications our actual PA Sarah had. She was cleared by the doctor to come and work yesterday, but she won’t be able to be here until the end of the week. We told Kenny we would much rather have her here and not James” Savannah shuddered as she said his name. Teagan didn’t know that he made everyone feel this uncomfortable.

“Who hired him?” She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt because someone had thought he was a good fit. There must have been some sort of misunderstanding!“

“Netflix kinda threw him in since it was so last minute! He’s from Vancouver, so it made things easier” Savannah shrugged stopping in front of Charlie’s trailer. “Now go relax birthday queen, we’ll come get you in a few hours when we’ve wrapped and we can get ready at my apartment!”. 

Teagan smiled and hugged her friend, entering the trailer shortly after. She was greeted with the familiar scent of pine and cologne, just like Charlie. His trailer was neat, save for the sweater or shirt tossed here or there, and his acoustic guitar propped up against the couch. She opened his fridge pleased to find it stocked with water bottles, knowing well that Charlie mostly drank from his blue hydro flask to reduce the amount of plastic in the environment. After grabbing a bottle, she headed to the couch of the trailer where she plopped down and grabbed his Nintendo switch. She played a couple rounds of Mario Kart, drinking water when she felt a sudden sleepiness descend her. Putting the switch away, she took off her shoes and clothes opting to wear Charlie’s orange hoodie and black sweats for her nap. Glancing at the clock, she realized she had about two hours before they would start wrapping up for the day and thought a little cat nap wouldn’t do any harm. Plus, Savannah knew where she would be in case she didn’t pick up her phone. With that Teagan drifted off to sleep on the couch.

Teagan didn’t expect to wake up on the floor of the trailer with both arms restrained to the leg of the desk. Confused for a moment, she found herself restrained like a hostage in a movie, her hands tied with heavy and thick rope and a cloth restraining her mouth. Looking around, she recognized she was still in Charlie’s trailer and thought this was a cruel joke that her friends were playing on her. To her horror, she realized it wasn’t a prank when she saw James shutting the blinds and locking the trailer. She took a deep breath to scream, but quickly stopped when James noticed that she was awake, unsheathing his pocket knife.

“You're so pretty” he whispered, drawing close so that he was inches away from her face. She watched tensely as his eyes scanned her face with this crazy look in his eyes. “If you scream I will hurt you” he whispered as he untied the cloth muffling her mouth. Teagan was too afraid to say anything as James started to laugh. “You did it James, you got a pretty one” he smacked his head twice dropping the knife by Teagan’s foot. As he paced the trailer muttering to himself, she tried to inch the knife slowly to her with her foot, but this caught her captor’s attention. “Oh no you don’t!” he lunged for the knife as Teagan tried to kick him away, her leg getting nicked in the scuffle.

“Help!” she cried, but was quickly muffled by one hand on her mouth, the other holding the knife pressed up against her throat.

“I told you not to scream!” he yelled at her. Teagan began to cry in fear as she realized the man was mentally unstable and out of control. “Now I don’t trust you!” he gagged her with the cloth that was previously muffling her pulling at her hair in the process. Teagan tensed as he pressed the knife back to her throat. “I’m serious. I will cut you if you scream” he threatened holding her jaw with his free hand, forcing her to look at him. As more tears began to fall from her eyes, he cooed and shushed her hoping that she would stop. “Stop being sad. You aren’t pretty when you’re sad. I can make you happy. Let’s do that!” she trembled as his face lit up as though he had come up with a brilliant idea. He suddenly stood up and smacked his head again, muttering to himself incoherently. Teagan had no idea what to do. If she made a ruckus someone might be able to hear her, but the man in front of her might act on his words. She winced as he bumped the leg that he nicked.

“Did I hurt you? Oh no... Dammit you’ve damaged the merchandise James... You made her ugly! No. no. I can fix it. I can fix it” Teagan watched as he cursed at himself, dropping down to her side, yanking off Charlie’s sweats. The cut wasn’t deep by any means, but it was there and about two inches in length. However, it left Teagan pant less on the floor of the trailer with James staring at her half naked form, hands shaking as he drew nearer to her. Teagan knew what was to come as she struggled against her restraints and he pinned her legs down, approaching parts of her body she only let Charlie touch or see. Tears started to flow freely from her eyes as she protested through her gag, shaking her head no and trying to yell for help. James didn’t care anymore that Teagan had become vocal again, as he was too focused on indulging his own fantasies. Teagan cried out desperately and squeezed her eyes shut, wishing for this whole thing to go away. A banging on the door interrupted both of their thoughts as they froze. James terrified that he had been caught and Teagan hopeful that someone had come to end this. 

“Teags! It’s Owen, open up! You alright in there?” 

Teagan realized this was her only chance to end this and she screamed the loudest Help she could despite being gagged. She was sure Owen wouldn’t be able to make out what she was saying, but the fact that it was a scream would have alerted him to something important. The banging on the door became steady and stronger as if he was trying to break the door down. They could hear him screaming for help and speaking to someone over the phone. Quickly a commotion began to gather outside the trailer and James paled.

“This is all your fault! You stupid bitch! I told you to be quiet” he slapped her hard across the face, a burning sensation residing in her cheek. “You were supposed to be quiet!” he slapped her again on the opposite cheek, but this caused the back of her head to hit the leg of the desk that restrained her hands. A ringing in Teagan’s ears overcame all of her senses and she couldn’t focus on anything else. She felt him roughly cut her restraints and drag her to a standing position, but she couldn’t stand. She felt dizzy and nauseous at the sudden motion as the ringing in her ears started to subside. James held the knife against her throat, his back to the wall waiting for people to break into the trailer.

With a final bang, security was able to bust the door open, two of them filing into the tiny trailer, Owen standing behind them. There was Teagan, a knife being held to her throat, a swollen cheek, her underwear discarded on the floor and the orange hoodie preserving whatever parts of her body that it could. She felt the knife press into her neck as James and the security officers yelled back and forth at one another. She could feel a sharp stinging sensation and warm liquid languidly make its way down her neck. The yelling intensified and so did the pain. Teagan could barely hear Owen’s attempts to comfort her and assure her over the noise. She couldn’t understand what was happening, but James’ body tensed and convulsed, pushing the knife slightly deeper into her for a moment and then collapsing to the floor. In a rush of motion and bodies, the two security officers rushed to James’ shocked body on the floor and Owen rushed to Teagan, quickly untying the pink hoodie that was a part of his costume to help cover her up.

“Teagan! Teagan look at me, are you alright?” Owen’s voice snapped her back to reality as his soft anxious blue eyes searched hers.

“...Owen?” his name came out as a tremble followed by a fresh stream of tears as she lunged into his chest. He caught her and held on to her just as tight as she held onto him. Owen’s heart broke as she held onto him for dear life. He picked her up, never letting her go and moving her out of the trailer as the security guards handled the rest. As Owen exited, the small crowd of castmates and crew that had gathered in the alley gasped at the sight of Owen and Teagan. Savannah rushed over to throw her jacket over her legs to help Owen’s pink hoodie, giving her soft rubs on her back as she sobbed into Owen’s chest.

“Teagan?! Teagan! Oh my god, what the fuck happened?!” Teagan’s face came out of hiding as she heard Charlie’s voice. Their eyes met as Charlie sprinted over to her, pushing people out of the way. Owen quickly handed Teagan to Charlie, both of them crying and Kenny arriving at the scene with Maddi. Sadness befell their faces at the scene, but Kenny quickly took charge and started dispersing the crowds, giving orders to others to help remedy the situation. Teagan sobbed uncontrollably in Charlie’s arms and he offered as much comfort and solace as he could. The paramedics soon arrived and Charlie had no choice but to hand her over to them, but he followed the paramedics to their van with Owen and Savannah in tow.

Along the way, Owen had explained how he had come to find her. It turns out that Owen wasn’t needed for the final shots of the day, so he went to find Teagan before changing. Savannah had mentioned that Teagan had gone to hangout in Charlie’s trailer, so naturally Owen made his way over. He didn’t expect the muffled sounds of desperate screams and cries to intensify as he neared Charlie’s trailer. He knew something was wrong, but the door was locked, and after confirming that she weren’t doing something else, he began to yell for help and try to break the door down. As one team of paramedics checked on Teagan, Kenny asked the other team to check on Owen as he used physical force to break the door down with the security team. Therefore, he wanted to make sure Owen didn’t hurt himself in the adrenaline of it all. The entire time Teagan sat on the stretcher and gurney, covered with a blanket, Charlie held onto her hand tightly. Her tears subsided but everyone could tell she was still shaken. The rest of the cast members who were still on set were escorted to their vehicles and told to return home for the day. Filming had to come to a halt until they were cleared to run again. 

“Mrs. Valencia, I’m going to need you to confirm some details of your assault so we can properly attend to you” the female police officer spoke to Teagan with an apologetic looking female paramedic at her side. “Sir, we are going to have to ask you to let us speak to her privately” 

Charlie kissed her forehead and went to let go of her hand, which Teagan protested.

“No please. He can stay. Please, I need him” her voice initially came out strong and desperate, but fell to a quiet whisper as she finished speaking. The police officer made eye contact with one another and then with Charlie, who returned closer to her side.

“Very well. Mrs. Valencia, did your assailant force any penetration on you?” the police officer got right to the point, staring deeply into Teagan’s eyes. Charlie tensed, preparing himself to hear the answer he didn’t want to hear. Teagan hesitantly shook her head no. “Did he force himself upon you that can be considered sexual assault” she bowed her head, ashamed of what she was admitting, and softly nodded. “I’m sorry Mrs. Valencia, I’m going to need you to tell me a little more than that” the police officer looked at her apologetically, knowing fully that this was a difficult conversation to have. “We need to have a verbal confirmation.”

“It was just his fingers. No kissing or anything more” Teagan whispered, her eyes filling with tears once more. The police officer thanked her and nodded to the paramedic who finished cleaning her cuts and bandaging them up. Charlie held her hand the entire time, rubbing soft circles on her back. After the paramedic was done, she gave the two of them a moment alone.

“I’m so sorry Charlie” Teagan whimpered, crying all over again. She bowed her head in shame and embarrassment, feeling hopeless and defeated.

“Teagan, look at me” and when she refused to lift her head, he placed a finger under her chin to lift it. Teagan looked at his eyes full of determination, anger and conviction. “Don’t you ever apologize for what happened to you.” his voice was stern, unwavering despite the emotions he felt inside. “None of this is your fault. Don’t think for a second that you are responsible in some way shape or form.” His eyes bore an intensity that Teagan only saw when something upset him, in which she couldn’t blame him.

“Do you still love me?” she tried to be strong as she spoke, but her tears got the best of her. Charlie’s eyes suddenly became soft, concerned and worried. She couldn’t bear to look at him as she felt that he may have been disappointed in her.

“Of course I do Teags. Nothing could ever change that.” her tears softly fell down her face as Charlie pulled her in for a tight hug, peppering her with kisses. “I’m so sorry Teags, you must have been so scared” he rubbed her back hoping to provide more comfort and assurance. “I’ll love you no matter what. This doesn’t change anything, Mrs. Gillespie” the last part of his comment made her chuckle through her tears and pull away to look at him. “I can’t promise you and say things are going to be the same from here on out, but I can promise you that I’m not leaving you. Ever.” He had hoped that his eyes conveyed his commitment to her and she confirmed this with a gentle kiss on his lips. Charlie was careful to kiss her back knowing that she was still in pain from the assault.

This was a hurdle that they were going to face together. Teagan knew deep down that this event had caused serious damage and she couldn’t quite come to terms with what happened. However, she knew that Charlie was going to be with her and oddly enough, that was all she needed right now.

[killed-by-jane-volturi]

Cause someone has to fill the huge Volturi void, right?

An extract of the start of who knows what, y’all.

****Jane (and Alec) are aged up to 20 because S*eyer is a gateway pedo and she does not pass the fuckin’ vibe check****

---

@greekmuser

----

“Well, I think that was wonderful. That was wonderful, don’t you agree?” Aro clasped his hands and turned to each of his brothers in delight.

Marcus nodded deeply and slowly, his face not moving from its sunken blood-hound like melancholy. Caius smiled thinly. 

This human did indeed have a wonderful handle of the violin trembling against her shoulder, but Aro had been at this for eight days. In a bid to add to his ‘collection’ of art, Aro had decided to reach out to those few hopeful humans who stayed under the Volturi’s employ in search of any with a talent with instruments. Once he acquired a full quartet, orchestra, or god knows what he had his heart set on, he would grant them the immortality they craved in exchange for their eternal service as the castle’s musicians.

No one dared voice how ridiculous a waste of effort it seemed, even when Aro declared he wanted to hear for himself each and every audition, and dragged his brothers into the newly repaired turret room for the occasion.

The young woman with the violin bowed deeply, awkwardly, and then left, only to be replaced by another. This one carried a cello, and froze to her core once she gathered the courage to look at her spectators. 

“Whilst we’re still young.” Marcus droned in an unchanging, deadened tone.

Caius’ snort at the humour was childish and Aro glared across the room at him before regaining his whimsical, cheerful facade. 

“Go ahead.”

The woman wetted her lips and tried to smile, drawing the bow to the strings. Aro thought she looked like very much like she was in pain. 

As the thought crossed his mind, the sound of an enraged scream split through the marble and mortar of the castle walls with such a blood-curdling quality the cello woman almost fainted. 

Aro closed his eyes in annoyance, Marcus rolled his tortured gaze on the ceiling and Caius gave the side of Aro’s head a look which could have said ‘rather you than me’ as much as it could have meant ‘I told you so’. 

“Excuse me.” Aro said with a sickly sugariness, lips peeled back in a shark smile as a muffled crashing sound resounded from above.

He left the judging to his brothers with a heavy heart, and hoped they would at least allow her to play before they killed her. 

Jane’s chambers, of which had been hers and hers alone for over twelve hundred years, were now more of a salvage operation than a rescue mission. She stood still in the rubble of the furniture, of her few possessions and in places, the stonework of the walls, with her back to the door and an antagonised aura about her. Chalky dust still swirled in the air, and smears of powdered granite peppered with splinters decorated her black robes in calico patches. Aro cleared his throat from the doorway and she exhaled audibly. 

“Jane.” He prompted, like a school teacher cueing a small child to take their turn. 

“Master.” It was polite but she knew she was pushing it. Aro had asked a question with his presence alone, and this was the second time this week that she hadn’t answered it. She didn’t turn around.

Aro stayed silent for long enough to give away that he was calculating. 

“Your power grants you a great deal of… privacy. Which in turn demands a great deal of transparency,” His voice stayed light and oddly-pitched. “I trust that I still have your… transparency?” His saccharine tone was straining. She was keeping things from him, and no one kept things from him. 

Jane clenched and unclenched her jaw, still rigid. It wouldn’t be long before he worked this out, she knew Caius was already whispering in his ear at every opportunity. She turned very slowly to look at him, and Aro’s features scrunched a little at what he was confronted with. Jane’s face was calm, but there was a crack running along her cheekbone which was healing very slowly, if it was healing at all. Her eyes were flushed black. However long it had been since Jane had drank, it was long enough halt her natural abilities to heal almost to a stop. 

She nodded once, knowing better than to speak and risk her words being seized and used against her. 

“I do not wish to have to force you to behave appropriately, Jane.” He added with some finality, the threat seeping into his voice. “The Guard do not have personal issues.” He left. 

Jane’s shoulders relaxed a little and she glanced towards a god she didn’t believe in before looking around at the room she had destroyed. She swore. She hadn’t succumbed to such a blind rage in centuries, but she didn’t know any other way to handle this new complication. 

“Dear me.” 

Jane’s head snapped around to regard the new intrusion into what was already a poor day. She growled lowly, fists tightening under her cloak as she felt Chelsea’s thin influence coil around her. 

“Temper, temper, Jane.” Chelsea’s pale brown hair was wrapped into a bun that made her sharp features look as though they had been created by the taught pressure alone. She kept a cold, vindictive twist to her thin lips as she surveyed the room. 

“Didn’t your dirty peasant mother ever teach you that it’s unbecoming of a lady to throw tantrums?”

Anger simmered under the surface as Jane battled to school her face. In her eyes, Chelsea, for what she could do, was an abomination that should have been destroyed long ago, and the fact that Aro refused to listen to her on the subject gave the manipulator a kind of insufferable glee that goaded Jane to her very soul. 

“If you’d like to see a tantrum, Charmion, by all means; carry on.” 

Jane lifted her jaw and with some satisfaction saw the other woman hesitate, eyes flicking down and back up again as if somehow surveying a threat she couldn’t see. The eldest of Aro’s daughters despised people calling her by her birth name and anyone else would have paid for their insolence with a hard dose of Chelsea’s most brutal destruction, losing their friends, lovers, even pets on occasion. But Jane’s power was volatile and chaotic in her veins and no vampire so far had been able touch her mind without being brought to their knees in indescribable agony. 

In fact, the last time a vampire had gone head to head with Jane’s natural defences— a white-blonde Parisian vampire named Lafayette with an affinity to cause long lasting amnesia— he had simply tried, screaming and straining until he expired. Aro had ordered him killed once it became apparent that the force of what Jane had unwittingly done to him had left him barely able to speak let alone serve. The inner circle had accepted this handicap to their absolute power out of necessity to keep Jane close, but Chelsea had never been able to let it go that Jane went unaffected and unchecked, her mental privacy so absolute. 

“Always such an angry little thing,” Chelsea mocked, smirking around at the carnage. “You know, I really thought our time apart would have calmed you down.” Her abilities poked at Jane a second time, just slight enough to be safe.

Late one afternoon in 1740-something, Chelsea had almost died by Jane’s hand when it had accidentally slipped that the older vampire could delicately manipulate Jane’s relationships without torturing herself, though it took a skilful, butterfly application, excruciatingly slow and insidious to evade Jane’s detection and defences, with an end result was pathetic at best. Aro had ordered them apart for ninety years after the fight had been subdued, favouritism Chelsea had branded it when she had heard Jane had survived the transgression (sure as hell nobody else would have), and once they did come back into contact almost a century later the bad blood had only run cold. Her application of it now was just blatant provocation. 

“I’ll be calm as I take a long nap at your overdue wake.” 

Chelsea sneered suddenly. “Please. I know as well as you do that you’re stomping that foot on ice far too thin to risk adding any bite to your bark.”

It was Jane’s turn to laugh. “You have the natural edge when it comes to barking, Chelsea.” 

“Jane.” Alec’s sharp voice cut off the rage her comment had invoked in her antagoniser as he strode past them without halting. “Marcus demands your presence. Now.”  

Jane gritted her teeth again and Chelsea was already back to her smug default. 

“Oops.” She feigned Aro’s sugar with one hand over her mouth as she followed Alec away, knowing damned fine and happily so that Jane was probably in trouble if Marcus wanted her so suddenly. 

[soopersara]

Rebirth

Zutara Week 2020: Day 7

AO3 | FFN

@zutaraweek​

While Katara is resting, a still-injured Zuko wanders off and gets stuck by the turtleduck pond.

Just a few minutes, she told herself. After so much time healing him, monitoring the slow rise and fall of his chest, she could hardly keep her eyes open anymore.

A few minutes of sleep couldn't hurt. In one of his brief moments of semi-lucid consciousness, Zuko had assured her that the palace staff and the Fire Sages—the few who remained—could be trusted. Katara was less than convinced, but Zuko's condition was more stable than before, and her head kept drooping toward her chest for a few moments at a time before she jerked awake again. She couldn't keep watch over him forever.

It should be fine. So long as she stayed close, nothing bad could happen to him. Not in a few minutes. Not if Katara just curled up in the chair beside his bed for a little snooze. She would wake up at the slightest disturbance, ready to protect or heal him at a moment's notice.

Or that was the idea. Instead, Katara let her eyes slide shut for what felt like a single blink, and when they opened again, she found herself staring at an empty expanse of rumpled, blood-red silk.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no.

She shot out of her chair, bleary-eyed and only half awake. "Where is he? Where did he go?"

She crashed her way into the corridor, then rammed into a timid looking servant woman.

"Where is he?" Katara repeated, a frantic edge to her voice.

The servant fumbled to keep her stack of clean linens from toppling. "Where is who, Miss?"

"Zuko? Where is Zuko?"

"The Fire Lord ordered that you not be disturbed, Miss. I believe His Majesty mentioned fresh air—"

A bit of the sleepy fog lifted from the edges of her mind, and Katara's expression darkened. "Oh, he'd better not."

She took off at a run, careening down one hallway then the next and the next. By the time she realized that the light blanket she'd worn for her brief nap was dragging after her, it was too late to turn back, and she hitched it up around her shoulders like a cloak and kept running. For all the palace's beauty, it was entirely too big. There were too many rooms and balconies and gardens—too many places where Zuko might have wandered in his fevered and dazed state. She ran toward the northern wing of the palace, peeking through doors and shouting for directions whenever she crossed paths with a servant.

At last, she saw a patch of pallor lying in a shady spot beneath a tree. Zuko. She darted out the door toward him.

Zuko lay on his back, one arm bent behind his head like a pillow, bare feet dangling a few inches over the surface of the pond. Katara's heart sat in her throat.

He was okay. He was safe, and he was still breathing.

He was an idiot.

"You were supposed to stay in bed and rest," Katara called as she marched toward him.

Zuko rolled his head her way and blinked, eyes unfocused. "Katara?" His voice came out thin and cracked. "I told them not to wake you up."

She crossed her arms. "They didn't. You wandered off."

"Mmm." His eyes slipped shut, and his forehead creased as though he were deep in thought. "You were tired," he eventually rasped.

She wanted to be annoyed with him. She wanted to fuss about how worried she'd been to find him missing, she wanted to raise a stink about how his servants ought to intervene when Zuko did stupid, dangerous things like wandering the palace alone while injured and disoriented. But even with his forehead creased like it took all his effort to string words into coherent sentences, even with a feverish sheen on his brow and his hair clinging to his forehead in streaks, he looked easier, more peaceful than he had in days.

He was safe. He was going to be okay.

Katara sat beside him, letting her feet dangle over the pond beside his. "I was tired, but I'm not the one who jumped in front of lightning."

His eyes opened a slit. "When was that?"

She studied him. Though his eyes were open, they drifted a bit, struggling to focus. She wasn't sure how she should feel about it. There were hundreds—thousands—of questions she wanted to ask him about the Agni Kai. Why he'd agreed to it in the first place. Why his eyes, his voice had gone so soft when he promised that she wouldn't get hurt. Why he'd taken the bolt of lightning when he knew he couldn't redirect it properly, and why, even after he'd fallen, he kept reaching for her. And yet she remembered all of it. The horrific cry that tore out of him as the lightning burned him from the inside out, the tremors that ran through his limbs even hours after the fight was over, and the weak, stuttering pulse that took far too long to mend. She wasn't sure she wanted him to remember any of that. He'd lived through it once, that ought to be enough. She never wanted to see him in that kind of pain again, even in memories.

"Do you remember it?" she whispered.

Zuko's brows crept downward in thought. "I remember jumping. I remember you coming back. And your hands—" he made a feeble attempt at mimicking her healing stance, and again his eyes closed. "The water felt good. Everything else is—fuzzy." His expression slackened. "Appa is fuzzy."

A small laugh bubbled out of her, and her shoulders eased a bit. "Weirdo." She pushed his hair away from his eyes. "The comet was a few days ago. You've been sleeping most of the time since then."

"I had weird dreams," he mumbled.

"I'm not surprised." She hugged her knees to her chest, staring across the pond at the remains of what must have once been a lush, beautiful garden. "Is that why you came out here?"

Zuko shook his head slightly. With a slow breath, he opened his eyes again. "No, I—" he tried to push himself upright and made it almost to his elbows before a pained groan tore its way out of his mouth. He fell back, clutching his bandaged middle.

"Zuko!" Katara rose to her knees, bowed halfway over him. His breathing came too harsh and too fast, and the sudden shock of pain had drained all the color from his face. She cupped her hand gently around his cheek. "Zuko, look at me."

He only managed to open his eyes for a second before he clenched them shut again and curled inward.

"I know it hurts, Zuko, but you have to let me see it so I can help."

Zuko couldn't seem to respond, but he allowed her to pull his hands away and unwind the bandages. The lightning wound looked the same as it had for days, the same sunken red splotch just under his ribs, the same pinkish rays of burned skin reaching outward. Katara tried not to feel the heavy lump of guilt that settled into her chest. Encasing her hands with water, she pressed them to the wound and pushed past the sunburst pattern etched into his skin. Between the scar and his life, she would choose his life every time.

She poured herself into the work, feeling for the still-raw edges of the lightning's path and for any fresh damage. His heart, thankfully, was as strong as she could remember it being since the comet, and his lungs, though knotted with painful energy, still shrank and swelled with his breath. She kept working, smoothing the tattered edges and drawing out the set to work mending the burned flesh and drawing the knots of energy away until Zuko's breathing finally eased.

Katara let out a breath she hadn't realized that she'd been holding and sat down, suddenly spent. Zuko was paler than before, his forehead creased, and his eyes pressed shut. She rested a palm against his forehead.

"You should still be in bed," she told him.

"Mmm." He drew in a slow, shuddering breath, and his eyes opened a slit. "Too late. I'm stuck here."

She almost wanted to argue with him, to order him back to his bed so he could rest and heal properly. So that she could keep him and the supplies—the fresh bandages, the clean water, the medicines—all within reach. But he had a point. If he couldn't sit without being overcome by pain, he wouldn't be able to walk back to his room. And the thought of trying to carry him was too much for Katara. She was tired too.

"No wandering off without me next time," she ordered. "I don't want you getting stuck anywhere dangerous, understand?"

Zuko gave a small nod. "Mmhmm."

Slowly, Katara exhaled. He was okay. Even if he was a little fuzzy, a little confused right now, he was going to heal, and he would be healthy again.

"Here." She picked her blanket up from where it had fallen behind her and spread it over the prickly, dry grass. "This should be more comfortable."

Slipping her hand beneath his shoulders, she pulled him up just far enough so that she could help him scoot onto the blanket an inch or two at a time. Zuko grimaced and groaned at the motion, but when Katara finally lowered him back to the ground, his face relaxed again. With a contented little sigh, he nestled against her side, and his hand crept out to find hers.

She gave in, squeezing his hand in response before lying down on the blanket beside him. Her head rested lightly against his shoulder, and he smiled, soft and small, eyes still shut.

"I came out here because I wanted to see the turtleduckies," Zuko said, barely over a whisper. His brow creased. "Tlurtleduckings. Turtledluckings."

"Turtleducklings?" Katara offered.

He nodded. "Those."

She smiled and snuggled into his shoulder. "I think you might be delirious."

"Am I?"

Reaching upward, she smoothed the hair back from his eyes. "Maybe just a little."

"Mmm." He let out a small sigh. "The turtleduckies must be sleeping."

Katara couldn't help herself. Hand still cupped around his face, she stretched upward until her lips brushed against his scarred cheek. She hovered there, pressing all the affection, all the care, all the love she could muster into a small, soft kiss. When she finally pulled away, the faintest hint of a smile playing across his lips was the only sign that he was still awake.

"I'm sure the turtleducklings will be very happy to see you when they wake up," she whispered to him.

His mouth twitched into another small smile, then he lapsed into silence, his breathing growing slower, steadier, until he finally dropped off to sleep.

Beside him, Katara rolled onto her back and stared into the arching branches overhead. Someday. Someday soon he'd be well enough to kiss her back.

[groovinrightalong]

IT IS TIME

That special content I promised!!!

Little prologue for Rocks Wolves and the Moon that’s set back in season 1!

Synopsis: Following his encounter with the Wolf’s Curse, Varian’s starting to believe the whole thing was a dream, or some big hoax. Then the full moon comes around.

Varian was beginning to lose hope. Just this morning, his elderly neighbor had been out for a walk, and a black rock had come only inches from running her through. He’d been there to help her over the fright afterwards, holding her hand and walking her home, but it had still happened! The entire situation was getting so, so much worse. And Dad wasn’t lifting a finger to help.

Then, there was that whole ‘wolf spirit’ thing that happened a month ago. It had promised to give him a voice, to help him get their problems noticed. Here they were, weeks later, and everything was just as bad. Nothing had changed. He certainly didn’t feel any different. He wouldn’t believe it had happened at all, if not for the strange blue mark on his palm. He’d tried washing it off, to no avail. That was the only indication that he hadn’t dreamed it all up, and even that was starting to not be enough.

“I just don’t get it!” He exclaimed, pacing back and forth in his lab. Beside him, Ruddiger sat patiently on his stool, watching him curiously. Ruddiger, too, seemed to have remembered the incident, if the way he’d acted for the day after was any indication. His best friend had practically walked on eggshells around him, terrified by every sudden movement. It was like he hadn’t even recognized him. But now, the raccoon seemed to be used to whatever had spooked him, perfectly content to be in close quarters with the boy.

One of the only positive things to come of the past weeks.

“He acknowledges it’s a problem,” he grumbled, scratching at his chin. “He’s told the people he’ll help. He keeps telling me he’s helping. Yet the evidence is against him. And that whole- whole thing with the king last month? Asking for more land? What, does he just plan to run away?” He scoffed, crossing his arms and turning to Ruddiger with an irritated frown. “What’s he going to do when they show up there too?” His lab assistant just shrugged, clearly as lost as he was.

Varian huffed, resuming his pacing. The sun was low in the sky. Not quite sunset, but past dinner time. His dad was probably out in the fields right about now.

“I-“ He cut off with a soft moan, pressing a hand to his stomach. It was upset all of a sudden, burning in his abdomen and leaving him a little nauseous. “Oh. Okay, maybe I got a little worked up.” Ruddiger regarded him with concern, chittering worriedly, but he waved him off with his free hand. “I’m fine, buddy. Just a bit of stress.” He sat himself down on the stool by his desk, rubbing at the spot over his roiling stomach.

Through the window, he could see so many rocks, some growing right before his eyes. The sight only made him feel more ill.

“Varian!”

“Down here!” He called, lacking his usual energy that backed the response. His father emerged from a door to his left, eyes scanning the room before entering, as though gauging whether or not it was safe. He seemed relieved when he saw the black rocks in the middle of the room, untouched and roped off, just as he’d left them.

“I just wanted to check in on you,” he explained, stepping inside and strolling over. “There’s a council meeting this evening, and I have to head out soon.”

“Don’t let me hold you up,” Varian grumbled, feeling a bit snippier than usual. His father frowned at him, furrowing that impressive brow, but he didn’t address it.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked suddenly, sternness giving way for concern when he noticed his son’s posture. “You’re looking a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” the boy insisted, straightening up a bit. “Just tired.” His dad’s frown only grew, and for a moment Varian thought he’d fight him on it. But the man just let out a resigned sigh.

“Very well,” he relented. “Don’t wait up for me. It’ll go past nightfall. And please, be in bed when I get home.”

“Gotcha,” Varian replied with a wink, shooting him weak finger guns. A tired smile graced his father’s face, and he reached out to ruffle his hair. Varian leaned into the touch despite himself, finding great relief in the physical contact. But then the hand pulled back, and his dad backed away toward the door. He hesitated in the threshold, looking at his son, then the rocks, before smiling again, this time more strained.

“Goodnight, son.”

“Night, Dad.” The door echoed when he shut it, and his footsteps thundered up the stairs, then disappeared outside. Varian let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His gaze trailed to the rocks in the room, and his face hardened into a determined glare. He turned back to his desk, pushing a few papers out of the way, and forcing himself to ignore the ache in his gut.

“We’re gonna find a way to fix this, Ruddy,” he announced, reaching for a clean beaker and his sheet of theoretical formulas. “With the power of alchemy, we’re gonna fix all of it!” Ruddiger squeaked nervously, eyeing his boy with concern, and something else. Like there was something wrong. Varian didn’t even notice.

He got to work with his chemicals, hyper focused on the movements of his hands and the way the formulas reacted when mixed. As he slaved away over his desk, the light began to dim in the sky, shrouding his workspace in darkness, save the glow of the compounds in the flasks and beakers. He lit the candle in the window mechanically, eyes still glued to his papers and experiments.

Eventually, Ruddiger started to grow tired, eyes drooping despite the early hour. He’d been up all night with his friend the night before, and as much as he wanted to be here for him now, he was starting to hit his limit. He curled up on the stool, tail tucked over his nose, and began to settle into a light nap.

But the sound of glass shattering startled him out of any contemplation of sleep, nearly jumping off the stool from the fright. A glowing blue compound had spilled on the floor, the flask that had held it in pieces within the mess. Over it, Varian stood, convulsed inward. Both his arms were wrapped around his stomach, eyes squeezed shut. His forehead was pressed against the surface of the desk, and his large front teeth were digging into his bottom lip, almost drawing blood.

Ruddiger squeaked with fright, moving to run to his friend, but something made him hesitate. His instincts were telling him to get as far away as possible. But that didn’t make any sense! This was Varian, his best friend! He won his internal battle and bounded over, climbing onto the desk and resting a paw on the boy’s head. Varian hissed in response, not moving a muscle.

“Just- just give me a second,” he wheezed, curling in further. “It’s just a-“ He gasped, arms wrapping tighter around himself. “Just a cramp.” Ruddiger chittered anxiously, pawing at his hair again. Varian’s breaths heaved in and out, back raising with each shaky gust of air. One hand uncurled from his torso and he winced, but he managed to get a grip on the table, righting himself. His face was pale and sweaty, eyes looking a bit glassy with fever. Ruddiger rubbed his nose against the bare skin between his sleeve and his glove, and found it startling hot.

“Gah!” Varian coughed, curling forward again, but his fingers stayed looped around the edge of the desk. The wood groaned under the pressure. He choked on another cough, tears gathering in his eyes. “It’s a- a really bad cramp.” Ruddiger squealed, frantically pointing his paw at the door. “No, don’t go get Dad! I’m fine. I’m just-“ He cut off with a loud cry, slamming his head down onto the table, then collapsing onto the ground. Ruddiger watched helplessly as his boy cried, curled into fetal position below the desk. He jumped down to help, but nothing he did worked.

He should really go get his dad.

He turned to leave, but another cry made him freeze, guilt consuming him. He couldn’t just leave his friend. Not like this. He trotted back over and curled up next to him, pressing his warmth into the small of Varian’s back. It seemed to help at least a little, as the tense muscles he felt through the alchemist’s thin shirt loosened some, but it wasn’t enough. Fat tears were streaming down the boy’s face, landing in a slowly forming puddle on the floor.

A loud popping noise cracked right by the raccoon’s ear and he yipped, jumping back. Varian was openly sobbing now, writhing as he tried to get comfortable, but couldn’t even get close. He ended up on his backside, feet digging into the stone floor as his back arched painfully. A hand landed close to Ruddiger, curling as it tried to anchor him on the ground, and he caught sight of sharp nails, almost claw-like. And they were growing, longer and thicker, until they really were claws. Ruddiger took a startled step backward, staring as the alchemist’s clenched teeth did the same, growing longer and sharper until his cries started to mix with snarls.

Something snapped audibly, and Varian let out an agonized wail. His eyes flew open, flooded with tears, and giving off an eerie glow. The irises flashed blood red, illuminating the room, then his entire eyes were swallowed by the color, leaving them blank and terrifying. Ruddiger cowered into the corner as Varian’s sobs morphed into growls, deep and feral. More snaps and pops filled the air and Varian’s entire body shifted, bones moving about underneath his skin. He almost seemed to stretch, horrifyingly slow, as his hair turned gray from the roots. It dimmed the blue stripe to the same color then spread, patches of fur sprouting in random places and evening out with the boy’s hair.

Varian’s face was lost in the fur, replaced with a snout and a wet dog nose. The alchemist’s entire body seemed to have been swallowed whole, because that couldn’t be- it couldn’t be him. The panting beast left behind was so unlike his friend, so large and scary where his human was small and kind. Every instinct Ruddiger had told him to run for the hills. But below the terrifying exterior, he could pick up Varian’s scent. And Varian couldn’t have just… disappeared, could he?

The Wolf- Varian?- was out of breath, staring at the ceiling with wide, bright red eyes. That huge chest rose and fell unsteadily, pain still evidenced in his posture. But then, he turned onto his front, climbing onto four wobbly paws. He looked awkward and confused, not right. It was Varian. Ruddiger chittered worriedly, one paw slipping into the light, and Varian’s eyes snapped in his direction. They locked gazes for all of five seconds, then the wolf turned and ran out the door, disappearing into the night before Ruddiger could do anything.

—

When Varian woke, he was cold. Not for lack of clothes, he could feel them clinging to his lean frame. But he wasn’t in the comfort and safety of his home. He peeled his eyes open, head splitting with a dull migraine, and stared up at the forest canopy. He was outside.

And he remembered everything.

Panic was the first thing to come back, overactive mind reeling as it recalled all the events of the night before. He- he was a monster. A full blown, scary story, fanged and hulking monster. He’d gone wild in the empty streets of the village, ravaging chicken coops and frightening livestock.

He’d chosen for this to happen.

Of course the scary wolf spirit was a curse! How could anything offering to help him for a price not be?? And now he was- he was stuck like this, and it was terrifying.

“Oh no,” he breathed, one hand clamping over his mouth as he just laid there, back against the earth. Tears were gathering on his lower lashes all over again, but not from pain. He’d done this to himself.

He turned over onto his side and curled in on himself, sniffling against the tears. What would everyone think of him now? Being the ��wizard’ was bad enough, even when it was clearly false. Now he was an actual monster, in every iterence of the word. He’d wanted to help his village, and he’d only added onto the burden.

What would Rapunzel think? The princess had been nothing but kind to him since they met, and she’d trusted him. She’d promised everything would be alright, that they’d work together to find a solution to the rocks. If he’d just listened to her, maybe this wouldn’t have happened! But no, he had to go and make impulsive decisions, and try to take matters into his own hands.

What would Flynn think? He was a hero! Monsters were always the villains in storybooks. The hero vanquished the villain. And Cassie? After they’d just started to get to know each other? The monster never got the girl!

And Dad. Oh sun, Dad. Dad would never look at him again. He’d lock him away for good, and throw away the key. He’d look at him and only see an abomination, not a son.

That’s what you wanted, a voice in his mind supplied. You were willing to risk it all to save them. No backing out now.

But it was right. In that single moment, a month before, he’d decided that whatever the wolf brought was better than what was happening. He’d believed, with a furious vindication, that it would be the perfect turn around. Finally, he’d understand why Dad pushed him away. He’d know the reason, because he chose the reason.

He cried quietly, hiding his face in the moist grass.

After what felt like hours, he felt something nuzzle into his side. He flinched away, fear still gripping his heart, but it only followed, rubbing with more persistence. He turned his head just a little and found a fuzzy face staring up at him, worry evident in those beady eyes.

“Ruddiger,” he whispered, realizing what a mess he must look like, crying on the ground with grass stains on his clothes. The raccoon didn’t mind, chubby face lighting up with delight at the realization that Varian was okay. He jumped at him, purring and sliding himself in between the boy’s arms, cuddling into his chest. Varian couldn’t help the weak laugh that escaped, one arm wrapping around his friend.

Ruddiger had seen him last night. He’d been there for every moment, every gruesome detail. And even after all that, he was still right here beside him.

“What’d I do to deserve you?” He croaked, burying his face in his soft fur. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. That must have been so scary.” Ruddiger just chirped, nuzzling his little nose into the crook of Varian’s neck. The boy let out a shaky sob, hiding in the soft comfort his friend provided. If only for a moment, he could pretend everything was alright. It was just him and Ruddiger. There were no black rocks. There were no judgemental neighbors. There were no disappointed fathers. There was no Wolf Curse. Just a boy and his best friend.

Eventually, that moment had to come to an end, as the rest of him started to catch up. It was early morning, perhaps early enough for him to slip back home and pretend nothing had happened. Maybe, maybe he’d be able to sleep it off. Maybe he’d find a solution somewhere else. Or maybe he’d learn to live with it. He couldn’t do any of that laying on the forest floor.

“C’mon,” he mumbled, crawling onto his knees and hoisting the raccoon into his arms. Ruddiger was surprisingly light all of a sudden, easy to carry despite that extra weight he’d put on since moving in with the alchemist. Varian pushed it from his mind, turning all around. Somehow, he knew which way to go. He could hear the townsfolk, even from out here. He could smell the bakery, and the market, and the deli.

He pushed that out of his mind, too.

Upon arriving back at the village, he found himself in the midst of chaos. People were out in the streets, yelling at one another and frantically hurrying about. He could gather a few things they were saying, hearing sharper than it had been last he was here.

“My sheep-!”

“-something out there-“

“-the King!”

From over all the voices, he could hear his father, waving his hands for the crowd to calm. As usual, he got barely half the response he’d hoped for, only some people quieting to listen. Varian fought his way to the front, ignoring the harsh looks sent in his direction. He didn’t quite make it to his dad, but he got a clear view of the man.

“Everyone!” He boomed, hands outstretched in a placating gesture. “Don’t work yourselves up over nothing! A few wild animal attacks will not ruin our harvests.”

“I lost everything, Quirin!” A woman up front yelled, shaking a slaughtered chicken in her fist. “It could take me years to get it back!”

“It’s far too much destruction for just one night!” The short, burly man a few rows back cried. “The King needs to be notified of a potential threat!” More voices joined the cause, calling for another trip to the King. Quirin was fighting a losing fight.

Despite the situation, Varian felt something lift off his shoulders. No one had been holding his dad accountable for the rocks. With these so-called ‘animal attacks’, people were growing more desperate. They’d demand more results. Maybe, just maybe, this was what was needed to force his father’s hand.

Varian let out a sigh, arms wrapped around his chest. This was… this was good. If being a werewolf was the way to get results, then it was what he’d do.

At this point, he had nothing left to lose.