#Shhh let me write my chaos in peace

[fan-goddess]

Come run your hands through my hair

Authors Note: This took a while.... sorta took a break from writing due to low motivation and personal life stuff that took over my wellbeing these last few months. Still, i hope by posting this I get back in the writing spirit!

This request was inspired off an artwork created by @slytherincursebreaker who’s an amazing artist so I recommend looking at them! They’ll blow your socks off! (It won’t let me link the post annoyingly so I’ll add the link in a reblog of this post!)

Taglist: @slytherincursebreaker, @theconclavescitadel @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee

Warnings: Suggestive content, babies, reader is mainly gender neutral but some female descriptions may have been dotted throughout, (if i miss any let me know!)

When Aemond first allowed his hair to reach his waist all those years ago in his teens, he had no idea how much of a hassle it would be to keep it like that.

Though to his surprise, it wasn’t the maintenance what forced him to reconsider all his hard earned work. If anything, he spent too long maintaining it, putting all sorts of products from all sorts of places as far as Essos or even Winterfell.

But no. Instead, It was his own daughter, who was the one forcing him to reconsider it all.

“Hermione, please loosen your grip. Kostilus ñuha byka dārilaros, ivestragī jikagon hen ñuha ōghar."

“I don’t think she understands Aemond. In Valyrian or common tongue.” You tease, leaning forward to take your daughter from your husbands arms.

It takes a mighty tug from you however with how strong she held onto Aemonds silver locks, and the fact that as soon as she was in her muñas arms, she began to pout and wet her eyes with the promise of further tears and a mighty tantrum if she isn’t placed back into her kepas arms as quickly as possible.

And of course, being the father wrapped tightly around his daughters finger he was, Aemond quickly takes her right back so he can hold her tightly against his chest and soothe her.

“Shhh it is alright byka dārilaros…” Aemond coos, rocking her in his arms as she begins to slowly calm herself down and close her eyes. “Kepa would never let anything happen to you or to muña. Sleep byka dārilaros, and we shall awake tomorrow with a smile. And if you're extra good in the morning, we can arrange a playdate with your cousins.”

“You’re so good with her.” You cannot help but comment, moving forward so you can lay your head on his shoulder and hum in delight as Aemond tilts his head to lay a delicate feather-like kiss against your skin.

As soon as Hermione is fast asleep against Aemonds chest, he takes her to the nursery and places her carefully in the crib, placing the stuffed direwolf teddy your brother had made for her in her arms before turning away so he can turn on the moon themed nightlight Hel had gifted you and leave the room with you.

The two of you make quick work of clearing the house up after a hectic day of Hermione and uncle Aegons unique chaos, and as soon as the last wooden block is put back in its rightful place, the pyjamas were put on and the lights dimmed as the two of you made quick work sleeping peacefully in each others arms.

Though it seems the peace last only that night, since that next morning, Aemonds hopeful words that Hermione would wake up with a smile came with a price it seemed. As while yes, Aemond was delighted that his precious daughter was giggling and acting like the angel he knew her to be, she somehow managed to do all that while yanking at his hair so badly he truly feared for his roots.

"Ow! Hermione don't pull daddy's hair- OW! you have a strong grip there Hermione!" Aemond forcibly smiled while he tried to hide his very obvious winces and groans of pain, all in favour of keeping his sweet girl happy.

"Aemond, do you need any help?" You try to ask, wincing yourself when you see Hermione actually manage to take a strand or two out with her bare hands and flutter down to the floor below.

"Nope!" He says, very strained, you would say. "When is Helaena getting here with the twins by the way?"

"About an hour. Why? Can't fend off the ferocious princess?" You tease, walking up to the two and swooping said princess into your own arms. Thankfully, it seems today she's decided to tolerate her munas presence as she lightly grabs at your own hair and puts it in her mouth for a nibble. She only tugs on her favourite hair it seems.

"A knight can only do so much." Aemond eventually admits, sitting up properly as he rubs at the places where Hermione tugged at the most.

"You do know you can say no to her right? She's our princess. Not an evil witch my sweet knight." You grin, sitting down next to Aemond and giggling when he gives you a sweet kiss on your blushing cheek.

"And you're the delectable queen whose sworn protector can never get enough of..." He murmurs, kissing your cheek once more and chuckling as he feels the heat difference from moments before.

To be honest, you almost managed to forget about the princess in your arms until she begins to giggle again, still with your hair between her lips.

"Is that right nuha dārilaros? Is muna a queen?" Aemond coos, both you and him smiling proud as she excitedly wriggles in your arms with her hands in the air as if to give a wholehearted agreement. "Well, our princess is never wrong!" He smiles.

"Never." You grin back, pulling in Aemond for a quick kiss that he reciprocates immediately with zero hesitation. If there wasn't the familiar sound of the doorbell followed by the sweet noise of excitement from Hermione, you no doubt would've continued.

Which, after Helaena strapped Hermione in the back with the twins while her frankly cute as heck girlfriend sat in the front and drove off, is exactly what you did.

The two of you practically molded against each other as two became one. Your hands couldn't keep themselves away from touching his chest and fiddling with the long smooth silky strands of his hair. Before in the past, Aemond almost had a particular fondness for you touching and delicately tugging at his hair, with it being a sensitive area for him after all.

Yet when you do this now, instead of being met with that soft sigh of his that drives you insane with need, you're met with a painful whine that forces you to practically leap to the other side of the couch in surprise and fear for your lovers well-being.

"What's wrong Aemond?!" You quickly ask, moving forward again to take his face in your palms.

"I think Hermione might've played a bit too hard with my hair this time ñuha jorrāelagon." He says, rubbing at the spot with his palm. For a minute, Aemond is calm as he appears to think about something. Then he turns to you with his eyes furrowed like he usually does whenever he's in deep thought on something. "Do you remember that idea I had last week? The one I had on Tuesday after we put Hermione to bed?"

You had to think about it for a second given how vague he was being, but when you remember exactly what he was insinuating, you couldn't help but gasp in disbelief. "You cannot be serious!?"

"I'm afraid I am. As much as I love our princess, I don't think my hair can take it anymore... and besides, You can do it. Which does put me at ease."

"By the sakes of the gods fine! I'll try to find my hairdressing kit somewhere in the rubble of the junk room!" You sigh, giving Aemond a final peck on the corner of his lips before moving in said junk room, knowing you'll no doubt be taking about an hour to find the kit you bought a year ago on a whim but never ended up using.

Still, no better time than the present!

After eventually finding the darn thing though, you got Aemond set up in the bathroom on your dresser stool. A spare sheet was draped on the floor to catch the fallen hair, with another round Aemonds shoulders to keep his clothes/skin hair free. You set the bag of hair products and equipment on the ledge by the sink, and let Aemonds hair free as it ran down his back and over his left eye.

"Aemond are you sure about this...?" You carefully ask, catching his eye as he looks at himself in the mirror.

"Yes, I know it's hard but it will grow back. It's just hair Stark." Aemond finally says, his face looking unusually cold as he uses the nickname he gave you from years ago before you were both dating.

"Oh it's not that, it's our daughter. You know she'll throw a fit." You try to explain, yet that doesn't seem to faze him one bit. You suppose looking at him with how he's glaring at his reflection, now you can understand exactly why his nickname in high school was 'The Iceberg'.

"You're being silly Stark, let's get this over with." Aemond scoffs, firmly glaring at you that to most people would seem cold and slightly scary, exactly like how the infamous iceberg would've been. But to you, it's just like something you'd see off one of those grumpy cat videos you see on your social media for you page.

There's not much it seems you can do about it, given how experienced you are at dealing with Aemonds annoyingly stubborn nature. So you simply sigh and under your breath murmur a few words before you begin cutting.

"I tried to warn you..."

By the time Helaena had texted you to let you know they'll be dropping Hermione back off at yours and Aemonds house, Aemonds hair has been cut significantly shorter.

"It's shorter than Aegons..." You can't help but sigh, mourning his long hair as you run your fingers through its remains. "What am I even gonna be able to hold anymore? Nothing I tell you! Nothing!"

"It was for the best!" Aemond tries to reassure you, though with how you can clearly see his lips jutted in a pout, you can't help but feel reminded of Hermiones own. It seems you finally figured out where she gets her grumpy side from. Speaking of Hermione...

As soon as Aemond opens the door to thank Helaena for the sudden play date, her eyes immediately widen in shock and horror. So wide in fact you can't help but begin cackling like a witch in the background. Aemond though is just focused on his little princess, so he ignores her and the original task he was supposed to do, leaving you to thank Helaena properly while you try to calm down your laughter.

"What the fuck has he done to his hair?!" Helaena murmurs, keeping her volume careful given that Hermiones only recently begun to mimic words, as discovered by her Uncle Aegon only the day before...

"Hermione keeps grabbing it." You explain. "She even managed to pull some strands out so Aemond just had enough and demanded I cut it for him today. Trust me, we all mourn the curls... Hermione no doubt the most. I should probably go witness this so I can tell him the I told him so within the moment. Still, thanks so much for the day! We can discuss having the twins over next week okay?"

"Yep sounds good! Text me Hermiones reaction in detail later!"

"Will do! Thanks again Hel!" You say as you close the door and honest to the gods speed walk to the living room, just in time for the show...

You can see Aemond smiling hopefully at Hermione, who's just perched on his lap looking up at him in confusion while they both sit on the sofa.

"Hermione, what do you think of daddy's new haircut?" He says, still looking hopeful at his precious daughter. That is however, until her face begins to contort into one you and Aemond both recognise well. A face of pure and utter sadness as tears begin to run heavy down her cheek and her voice releases a loud screech of sorrow.

"No nono! Don't cry! Hermione!! Daddy's here, it will grow back!! Don't cry!!" Your poor lover begs while your daughter still weeps for the loss of her favourite past time, and for in a way, her daddy himself.

"I told you that our daughter would throw a fit..." You say, watching as Aemond turns to you with a face of pure desperation while Hermione still shrieks in his arms.

"Please my love. Help me." He begs, his eye full of despair as he's forced to watch his beloved little princess weep before him. So like the amazing parent you were, you strode over and took Hermione in your arms and cooed at her until she was just hiccuping and looking at you with wet cheeks.

"Did you not like the strange man sweetie?" You teased, giggling as you saw Aemonds look of pure betrayal directed solely at you. Still, you had to feel bad for him, so as you bounced Hermione in your arms you took her back over to Aemond who looked back at her with a hopeful expression.

"It's kepa sweetie!" You tried to convince, but with how her eyebrows seemed to furrow in the most adorable looking scowl, you don't think she was exactly ready to believe you right now.

"Don't you dare say it..." Aemond groans, his own eyebrows furrowed exactly like the baby in front of the two of you was doing.

"I told you so!" You sing instead, giggling as he rolls his eye next to you. "You're gonna have to wait for her to get used to you all over again Aemond. I'm sorry, but you did take away the most definable feature of yours from her!"

"Ah yes, cause our daughter has met so many men these days with one-eye..." He grumbles beside you, causing you to laugh softly as you kiss the side of his face in an act of comfort he leans into gratefully.

"Well, you were always praising our daughter for never taking notice of it when you first showed it to her."

"Sure sure blame the victim..." He grumbles, wistfully sighing once more as he makes eye contact with his glaring daughter. "I love you byka dārilaros, know that." He tries to kiss the top of her head in a final act of affection, but to your greatest amusement and Aemonds greatest horror, Hermione uses her scrunched up fists to hit the side of Aemonds face away with a mighty yell.

"Told you. Gonna need to get her used to you..." You say, moving Aemond closer so you could kiss the area between his furrowed brows. And from the way they felt against your lips, you knew you'd need to give him plenty of affection until Hermione miraculously remembers one morning that she has a daddy with short silver hair.

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Valyrian translation bit (literally one sentence): Kostilus ñuha byka dārilaros, ivestragī jikagon hen ñuha ōghar - please my little princess, let go of my hair

[the-dragon-hearted]

How to Tame your Demon

I got bored, so here: Papa Puffy and Demon Dream, as a treat.

Tw: language, blood, restraints, and also what creepiness you'd expect when you cohabitate with a demon

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Puffy had dealt with a lot of moths in her life at the ungodly hour of three AM. They'd gotten caught in her lampshades, they'd thrown themselves at the windows, one had flown into a candle once - that had been fun. The point was, Puffy was used to things going 'bump' in the night so when something slammed into a window down the hall she just assumed another giant moth was running around her halls.

Or, maybe it was the cat. It could definitely be the cat.

She rolled over and tried to fall back to sleep.

Then the whispering started. A frantic sort of whispering that Puffy almost mistook for the wind running through her curtains. She hadn't left a window open, had she?

Sitting up, pushing her wool out of her eyes, she resigned herself to the fact that the universe didn't want her to get the doctor's recommended eight hours of sleep. Oh well, that's why coffee was invented.

She yawned as she swung her hooves out of her warm nest of blankets and cotton, her back cracking as she stood on the wooden floorboards.

The cat was meowing from the hallway. The universe's final attempt to get her up.

Puffy started making her way for the open bedroom door, the cat's name "Patches" on her lips when someone spoke first.

"No - no bad! Bad cat! Don't look at me like that you - I swear to satan if you eat me - no, no! Get back! No-no-no-no, no - wait!"

Puffy was now very much awake and alert as she ran to the hallway. There was a stranger in her house, an intruder - a thief? A bad one at that - who talked as they broke into a house!?

The hallway was barren except for Patches who was staring at the window very intently, her tail swishing back and forth as she eyed something hungrily - probably a moth.

Puffy was only looking for the voice. She rushed to the kitchen, the living room, hell she even checked the linen closet. Had she imagined it? Oh, great she was hallucinating now. Exhaustion had caught up to her apparently.

"No! BAD CAT!"

Or... not? Puffy returned to the hallway and saw that Patches was now on the windowsill, batting at the dream catcher that hung there. It had been a gift from Niki, a small, hand-made from willow bark, twine, and seagull feathers. There were a few beads from Puffy's pirating days hanging with the gull feathers. The beads clinked together now as the twine in the center of the dream catcher clung to something.

"What in the - " Puffy muttered as she came closer. Patches gave the dream catcher another whack.

"I will eat you," the voice hissed. Puffy leaned closer and finally saw the outline of a very small humanoid thing tangled in the twine of the dream catcher.

It seemed it noticed her too because its struggles suddenly grew very still.

"Hello?" Puffy asked.

"Fuck," the thing muttered.

"Well you've got a mouth," Puffy scoffed.

Patches went to whack it again. Puffy picked up the deranged hunter and bounced her as she tried to understand what she was looking at.

"You... can... hear me?" the little thing asked, hissed? It sounded like a hiss.

"Yeah. Do you... need help there?" Puffy asked as she bounced Patches.

The thing stayed perfectly still. Puffy needed a light, a candle, something other than the dim moonlight.

"Hang on, let me get a light," she muttered as she set Patches down and went to the kitchen to get a candle.

"Well don't leave me with the fuzz demon! She's trying to eat me!" the little guy cried after her.

A candle was easy to get and Puffy always had extra matches. The light illuminated that, yes, Patches was indeed trying to get to the little guy again but that the little guy was human-looking, dressed in green, and was super tiny.

"Aw, you're cute - here, let me get you out of there," Puffy smiled as she chased Patches away. Pacthes, disgruntled that her midnight snack was being messed with yowled in protest and then slunk back towards the front door to look for loose moths.

"Cute?" the little thing hissed angrily. Puffy had no idea what it was. A fae? She'd heard stories as a child about the little fairies. It could be one of those magical things (Puffy had certainly seen plenty of things that had been dismissed as fantasy - Phil's boy was dating a mermaid for fucks sake).

"Yeah - hang on, you got caught up real good in this," Puffy scowled as she tried to get her huge fingers to undo the tangled twine this guy was stuck in.

"No - no you really don't have to," the thing struggles as her fingers played around with his entanglement.

"I'm not leaving you like this," Puffy scoffed as she got one of his (his?) legs free.

"No. I got it. This is all under control," the little guy was probably scowling but it was hard to tell with his hood up.

"Sure," Puffy snickered as she got most of his left arm free, his own tug did the rest, now it was just his torso to worry about. He was twisting and thrashing like a snake as he tried to wiggle free.

"I got you," Puffy tried to assure him.

"Don't touch me!" the thing snapped, a hiss behind the words. "Do you have any idea what I am?"

"No," Puffy lied as she watched him get himself tangled up further. "But I think you need some help."

She let him struggle for a few more minutes until he was quite tangled again. He let out a frustrated shout and then fell limp, maybe in defeat.

"Can I help now?" Puffy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine," he spat. "Just get it over with."

Puffy managed to pull him free in the next minute, her dream catcher a little worse for wear after all the tugging. As soon as she had him free he was jerked out of her hands.

Suddenly there was a normal-sized person on her wooden floor, scrambling away from the dream catcher and slamming into her kitchen table.

"What the fuck?!" Puffy gawked.

"Just get that thing away from me," the man - boy? growled as he turned around and pointed at the dream catcher. Puffy was finally able to take in his features - which were non-existent behind the pale smiling mask he wore.

"What are you?" Puffy asked as she looked him up and down. He seemed to compose himself, dusting off his green cloak and fixing its hood.

"I am... Dreamon," the thing managed finally, looking antsy as he seemed to study her.

"Dreamon?" Puffy asked.

"Yes - and thank you for... for helping me," he said 'helping' like it physically hurt him.

"It was no problem," Puffy managed back. There was a lot to process at the moment.

"What would you like in return?" Dreamon muttered miserably and Puffy blinked in surprise.

"In... return?" Puffy asked.

"You saved my life, I owe you. What do you want?" Dreamon growled as he crossed his arms, the dots on his mask staring her down.

"I... I don't want anything. I just didn't want you to give Patches indigestion," Puffy shrugged.

Dreamon tilted his head, like one of Puffy's dogs when they heard something they didn't understand.

"You don't want... anything?" Dreamon asked.

"No... I mean... i-I would like to know what you were doing in my house," Puffy sputtered. "And, you know, what you are."

"I'm Dreamon," he repeated again, slower, like that solved everything.

"That answers nothing," Puffy snickered. "You hungry, Dreamon?"

"Hungry?" Dreamon recoiled like he'd been slapped. "What?"

"I've got some bread and jelly," Puffy yawned as she went over to her cupboard. "Do you like raspberry or lingonberry?"

"I... You want to feed me?"

"We'll go with raspberry," Puffy muttered as she pulled the jar off the shelf.

"I won't give you another favor for feeding me," Dreamon stated.

"Okay," Puffy shrugged slowly, seriously - what was with this thing? "So... no raspberry?"

Dreamon threw his hands in the air and sighed. "No... I don't know - I've never tried it."

Puffy gawked. "You haven't had raspberry jelly? What jelly do you eat? Are you a strawberry sort of guy?"

"I - I haven't had jelly?" Dreamon stated, confused it seemed.

"You haven't had jelly!?" Puffy cried.

"No, what is it?"

"Oh my god, you get stuck in dream catchers and don't know what jelly is, what are you?"

"Dreamon," he repeated dryly.

"Right, right," Puffy rolled her eyes. "Well, Dreamon, let's get you some bread and jam."

"I thought it was jelly?"

"Oh my god - "

Eventually, she sat him down at the dining room table, sliding him a plate of bread and jelly which he didn't touch as she ate her own, the exhaustion already setting in.

"So - do you get caught in dream catchers a lot?" she yawned.

"No."

"Just mine then?" Puffy snickered.

"No. I'm just usually smart enough to avoid them. Your cats startled me," he muttered.

"Sure, blame the cats," Puffy smirked as she reached down to pet Bubbles who was rubbing against her leg.

A beat of silence passed and rolled over Bubble's purrs.

"You sure you don't want... anything?" Dreamon asked again. "Riches, power, love? Nothing?"

Puffy blinked in shock as she looked at him. "What, are you some genie?"

"No. I'm Dreamon."

"Right... right - uh, no, I'm good," Puffy let out a long breath. Riches were useless to her (she'd seen plenty in her pirating years), power was... well... yikes. And love... Puffy could hear Niki smirk at the thought and shook her head.

"Nothing?" Dreamon sounded shocked.

"Yeah, no, you don't have to do anything. I really don't mind," Puffy shrugged.

"You saved me... and you want... nothing," Dreamon muttered that a few more times like it was a riddle.

Puffy smiled as she looked down at Bubbles and went to pick him up.

"Don't sound so shocked, I'm not a big fan of - " when she sat back up, Dreamon was gone... so was the bread and jam from his plate.

"... favors?" Puffy muttered to the empty house.

It was a week later when she saw him again. And to be fair - it was the most terrifying thing she ever experienced.

Waking up with someone perched at the foot of your bed is nothing short of fucking creepy!

"JESUS!" she cried as she jumped out of bed. She must've startled him because he jumped in shock and fell backward onto the floor.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" she cried as she watched him stumble to his feet, tilting his head like he couldn't understand what was going on.

"Hi," he greeted, timidly? It was definitely timid.

"What. The actual fuck. Do you think you're doing?" Puffy demanded as she tried to still her frantic heart.

Dreamon shifted on his feet.

"Well?" Puffy demanded.

"Uh... well... I ruined your dream catcher so I'm trying to, you know... do its job until you get it fixed. I thought that would... you know... fix my debt?"

"Your debt... my - wait... what!?"

"My debt," Dreamon echoed.

"You don't have a debt - you definitely do not have to do... whatever that was!" Puffy cried as she gestured to the foot of her bed where he'd been perching.

"But... you saved me?" Dreamon cocked his head the other way.

"You don't owe me anything - how do you keep getting in here!?" Puffy cried.

No response.

Puffy groaned and shoved her face into her palms before running her fingers through her messy hair and opening her eyes.

Dreamon was gone again.

She did not sleep well for the next three days. She woke up many times with a creeping feeling that she was being watched and she hated it.

Finally, she brought it up to Foolish. His jaw must've dropped to the ground when she mentioned 'Dreamon'.

"You have a Dreamon in your house!?" he cried.

"You know him?" Puffy perked up.

"Him? Dreamons are ancient things. They feed on fear and chaos - you know, usually from dreams and stuff. They're... malevolent. Dad, that thing's dangerous."

Puffy blinked a few times as she processed that. "He was caught in my dream catcher..."

"That's - yes," Foolish took a breath and shook his head. "Dream catchers that are made as they're intended to be made are supposed to protect you from those sorts of demons. Most don't because dream catchers are supposed to be gifts, not decorations, but they're gifts made with love and good memories that draw in the negative energy. Niki made it, you said - so you had a functioning dream catcher and it caught a demon... like it was supposed to."

Puffy sighed and put her head in her hands.

"I let him out... " she groaned. "I let loose a demon in my house and the freaking catcher is all beat up so it's not going to catch him again."

Foolish perked up at that. "It's... ruined?"

"Yeah... that was his excuse for watching me sleep," Puffy cried. " He said he was doing its job, trying to repay his debt."

Foolish leaned back in his chair and pondered that. "You... didn't ask for anything from him... right?"

"No, why would I. Especially if he's a demon!?"

"Well... have you had any bad dreams recently?"

"What? No."

Foolish was thinking, Puffy knew that expression. His green eyes were narrow, his lips were tight, his fingers were tapping. He had her 'thinking look'.

"Maybe... this Dreamon isn't bad," Foolish murmured finally. "Or maybe he's just trying to repay a debt."

"He doesn't owe me anything!" Puffy cried.

"That's not how it works," Foolish shrugged. "Gods and demons have a code. If this demon is bound to favors then he has to follow through."

"Then I'll just ask him to leave me alone," Puffy groaned.

"That might work," Foolish nodded. "Ask him, next time you see him. That might just fix all this."

It did not fix anything. Probably because Puffy wasn't able to say it. She woke up two days later to someone talking in her bedroom and before she could jump out of bed - her better sense took over.

"Yes, I think she's... nice." Dreamon... that was Dreamon. Puffy slowly opened her eyes and saw the green-cloaked figure sitting on the floor with not one, not two, but three of Puffy's cat's in his lap.

Belle, who was making kitty biscuits on the demon's thigh, let out a small 'mrowww' and Dreamon tilted his head.

"No, I haven't," he muttered.

He was talking to the cats. Add that to the list of weird things Puffy had woken up to.

Belle meowed again and Dreamon laughed, sorrowfully perhaps.

"I'm not very good at being nice," he muttered as he scratched Belle's head. She enjoyed that very much.

Then, it was Bubble's turn to meow.

"That's not true, she's very nice. It's not her fault you want three meals. You're fat already," Dreamon sounded so serious it almost made Puffy laugh.

Bubble's sounded appalled based on his next meow.

"Yes - yes, you are fat. If I was anyone else I would've eaten you instead of the toast."

Puffy almost did giggle at that as she rolled over and fell back asleep. Look, you can't blame a girl, she was exhausted. And the cats had the Dreamon under control.

"You what?" Foolish gawked as he watched Puffy make up eggs and bacon.

"I think I'll keep him," Puffy repeated. "But I've got to feed him so he doesn't eat my cats."

"PUFFY!" Foolish cried. "This isn't some stray cat or dog - this is a demon!"

"Yeah, but - he seems sweet," Puffy smiled.

"You're insane," Foolish groaned.

"Oh, come on if you met him you'd like him."

"HE WATCHED YOU AS YOU SLEPT!" Foolish cried as he gesticulated wildly.

"Like you said, he's a Dreamon. That's like... what they do," Puffy shrugged.

Foolish looked like he was going to explode in shock.

"He's. A. Demon." Foolish reiterated.

"And you're a God," Puffy smirked back. "You didn't see me asking you to leave when you started summoning lightning."

"That's different!" Foolish cried.

"Mmmhmm," Puffy snickered.

"Dad - "

"I don't think he's going to hurt me if that's what you're worried about," Puffy smiled as she plated the eggs and bacon, leaving it on the table as she checked the clock.

"But - " Foolish whined.

Puffy ruffled his golden hair, shutting him up before he could argue.

"Let's not judge a book by its title... okay? Dreamon or not, I have a feeling about this guy."

"I don't like your feelings," Foolish muttered as he fixed his hair.

Feelings aside, the eggs and bacon that Puffy had left out were gone the next morning. Satisfied, she paid a visit to Foolish who rubbed his head and accepted defeat. His father had adopted a demon now and he would just have to live with it when he visited on Saturdays.

Slowly, Puffy began her evening ritual. She'd make something for the little demon every night and every morning it would be gone.

She didn't feel it went unrepaid either. Small things started happening that were too perfect to be coincidental. She complained out loud to Foolish once about the rabbits eating her vegetables and suddenly the rabbits were scared off - eating from Philza's garden instead. Her windows were always clean, her front porch always swept. Her garden grew brighter in color and health.

There were far more noticeable things too. Small gifts of flowers started appearing everywhere as soon as Foolish left her a bouquet. Dreamon must've figured she liked flowers, and she did. There were be nights when her cats would go crazy, running up and down the halls at the ungodly hours of the morning... but sometimes she'd hear human footsteps running with them and distant breezy laughs that were almost childish. Sometimes she'd wake up to get a drink of water and she'd see someone playing with the dogs outback.

Also, disturbances aside, Puffy was sleeping great. All kidding aside she hadn't had a bad dream or an uncomfortable memory late a night at all. She couldn't believe it was coincidental.

There was only one problem with this whole thing - she couldn't talk to Dreamon. She tried.

She stayed up late, she got up early, she left notes, she talked to him when she was alone in the house. He just never answered.

The creepiness had gone away after the first month, though Foolish and Niki still looked at her like she was crazy sometimes.

"I think he sleeps in the attic now," she had mentioned to Niki one time. "I just hear him walk around sometimes and I wish he'd just come down and talk to me."

Niki had looked at her like she'd grown a third head, then she laughed and asked when she could meet him.

"I think he really liked the Mac and Cheese, do demons usually like Mac and Cheese?" Puffy asked Foolish and he'd just stared at her for a solid second before sighing.

So... maybe she was the only one that was alright with this... but oh well. It was... nice, in a weird and paranormal way.

The niceness faded away one fateful night when Puffy woke up to screaming.

She flew out of bed with someone's screams in her head, but the house was silent.

"What in the world?" Puffy muttered. Patches was at her feet, sitting and staring at the window, her tail twitched. She looked back at Puffy and sorrowfully meowed like she was trying to tell her something.

The memory of the scream echoed in Puffy's mind. It was strangely familiar and... terrifying.

"What is it?" Puffy asked.

Patches jumped off the bed and, with nothing else to go off of, Puffy followed her.

The cat led her to the front door where all the other cats were sitting, looking at Puffy pleadingly.

"What?" she asked them all. Oh god, she was losing it. Now she was talking to the cats.

The dogs were barking, frantically - like they were trying to get at a rabbit. Something was wrong. Puffy felt it in every bone. She scanned the house and noticed that Dreamon's food was untouched.

That was... wrong. Dawn was already lighting up the sky, he would've eaten it by now... so what was wrong.

"Dreamon?" she asked the still house. "Did you not like your Macaroni... too much cheese or something?"

No answer... as usual... but it was an emptier silence this time.

"Dreamon?" she asked again. No response. And it stayed that way.

"I think Dreamon's in trouble," Puffy murmured as she looked Foolish in the eyes.

"Wh- what?" Foolish asked as his eyes darted away from the door and towards Puffy.

"It feels wrong," Puffy murmured as she looked around her house. They sat at her dining room table, Puffy's hands clenched together as she stared at her son.

"Yeah... I was actually going to mention that," Foolish nodded as he looked around. "It feels... weird."

"He hasn't eaten anything in two days," Puffy muttered as she looked to the second untouched meal that sat on the counter. "The cats won't stop yowling for him at night and the dogs are... sulking."

"Do you think he... left?" Foolish asked tentatively.

"I don't know... but he hasn't left me any flowers or anything. I thought he'd at least give me a goodbye or something," Puffy muttered sorrowfully. She thought to mention the screaming she heard before he disappeared but she couldn't guarantee anything.

Foolish had his eyes narrowed again. "How... how have you been sleeping?"

"Alright until last night," Puffy sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. "Last night I just had a horrible - "

"Nightmare?" Foolish guessed.

"...Yeah," Puffy murmured slowly. "How'd you know?"

"I've... been doing research," Foolish admitted slowly. "There's not a lot known about Dreamons, Dreamon Hunters keep their secrets to themselves and a lot of old knowledge has just been lost - but I have a few ancient texts from the temples I've raided."

Puffy narrowed her eyes. "What are you saying?"

"Dreamons apparently don't have a personality," Foolish explained. "They're supposed to be fragments of a larger creature, some beast of nightmares. Those fragments feed on memories, nightmares, and dreams. They're malevolent like I said... but your Dreamon didn't move on to another host... and he didn't feed off you."

"Feed off -"

"Off your bad dreams," Foolish explained quickly. "They get sustenance from your fear, so they come with bad dreams. But you haven't had any nightmares."

"No - no I've slept soundly the entire time."

"Right... so..." Foolish shifted uncomfortably. "I'm saying, this... this Dreamon is... unnatural."

"Okay?"

"So... maybe something happened to him because of that - I don't know. I'm just trying to theorize here."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I... I'm just trying to put pieces together," Foolish murmured.

Puffy took a long breath and closed her eyes. There was a terribly empty feeling in the air, a void in the house.

"How about I stay here tonight, maybe we can figure something out," Foolish tried cheerfully, but it was far too forced.

"I... I just hope he's okay," Puffy murmured.

Trapped. Hurt. Tangled. Hurt.

Have to get out - have to get free! Want to go home! No. Why? We have no home. We are one. No - no. Home - want to go home. Let me go home. Hurts. She is not your home. She? Yes... yes, remember. Remember being happy, being safe... full. You starved. Was fed... strange things. Human things. Nice things. Was warm, was happy... was home. NO. You are deformed. You are defective. HURTS! Hurts. Trapped. Tangled. Help... Please.

Puffy woke up in a cold sweat, startling Bubbles off her chest. Her breaths came too quick and her mind raced too fast. That dream had been so vivid, a tumble of emotions and thoughts that Puffy felt in her gut it more than a dream. She jumped out of bed and held her head as her gut twisted.

She felt sick.

A step made her tumble and she crashed to the floor.

"Dad!?" Foolish was suddenly running into her room as she got to her feet. "What's wrong?"

"He's - he's hurting," Puffy gasped through her heaving chest. "I felt him."

"What?" Foolish asked as he ran up and looked her over for wounds.

"I felt him - he sent me a dream... or a thought. He's hurt," Puffy breathed as she grabbed Foolish's shoulder.

That fear, that anger. It had been so vivid she still felt like she was going to hurl. It was worse than any seasickness she'd felt before. She looked up at Foolish, but this time didn't see his eyes.

She saw the green-cloaked figure behind him, standing in the doorway. She had a moment to register it when it lunged and she acted.

Foolish was shoved out of the way as the thing slammed into her, there were claws involved and ow. Okay, she was now bleeding. Still, instincts and training took over as she found her footing, lunged herself, and slammed her head against the intruder's skull. Something cracked and bits of porcelain fell at her feet. Foolish called her name but Puffy already had the upper hand. Her hooves lashed out in a brutal kick that took out a leg with a terrible snap and the thing fell to the wooden floor, vanishing in the darkness.

"What in the -" Puffy began.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" Foolish cried. "What happened, why are you bleeding!?"

It had looked like Puffy's Dreamon - god, Puffy hoped she was wrong.

"Stay alert!" she ordered as she looked around and raised her fists. Bubbles was hissing and spitting from where he stood at the bed, his eyes following something neither Foolish now Puffy could see.

"Alert for what!?" Foolish cried.

"The Dreamon," Puffy ordered. Suddenly something dawned on her. "You didn't see it!?"

"NO!" Foolish cried.

"How didn't you see - " Puffy's cry was broken off as the Dreamon lunged again, a blur of white and green that emerged from her shadow, claws going to slash at her face. She ducked as the attack went wide and felt good punching the thing in the face.

It wore a mask too, but this one wore an angry expression on its porcelain face.

"You're not my Dreamon," Puffy sneered as she punched it again.

It stumbled back to the window, holding its cracking mask. Foolish was muttered something in the corner, golden runes being drawn in the air by his fingers but Puffy had no time for that as she continued to beat this doppelganger into a pulp. It wasn't long until it slipped into the darkness again and Puffy cursed.

Bubble's was still hissing and Puffy did her best to look at where the cat was looking. Foolish finished whatever incantation he was reciting, his golden runes exploding into powder and when he opened his eyes, they had a bright sheen to them.

In a moment, Foolish had reached out to his side and ripped a green cloak out of the shadows. The thing let out an inhuman screech as Foolish tried to hold it to no avail. It slipped away and back into the shadows.

"I can see it - I just can't hold it!" Foolish cried.

Hold it - trap it. Puffy snickered and nodded. "Distract it!" she yelled as she ran for the hall.

"I'll try - but it wants you!" Foolish called after her.

It wasn't a long run to the dream catcher in the hall, though, by the sound of it, Foolish wasn't having much luck keeping the thing from following her.

The dream catcher was still a mess but nothing a bit of re-wrapping couldn't fix. What was it Foolish had said... imbue it with happy memories or make it as a gift. Oh god, what if it didn't work anymore.

Think. Think. Puffy began to re-wrap the twine as she thought of Niki and how she made this. They'd been sitting on the beach, Puffy collecting shells, Niki collecting seagull feathers. It had been a warm day, a happy day. Niki had smiled when Puffy gave her the sea's treasures and Puffy had been extactic when Niki shower he the dream catcher she had been working on. She loved it...

"PUFFY!" Foolish cried.

Puffy looked at the re-bound dream catcher in her hand and took a long breath as she whirled around and held it out.

Please work, please work, please.

The Dreamon jumped out of a shadow to her side and she watched in both wonder and horror as it was drawn like a magnet to the catcher, its form shrinking and condensing until it was suddenly caught in the network of the dream catcher.

An angry screech met her ears, something between a human scream and a phantom's cry... and she laughed in relief.

"That worked!?" Foolish gawked as he came up to her.

"I guess so," Puffy took a long breath as she looked at the cretin struggling in the web. "Though now what?"

"I don't know - I'm way out of my depth here," Foolish sighed, messing with his hair

Puffy looked at the struggling Dreamon and smiled slyly as a wonderful idea came to mind.

"I say... it's interrogation time."

"You can either tell me what happened to the other Dreamon, or Patches here is getting a midnight snack," Puffy threatened as she dangled the Dreamon in front of a wide-eyed Patches who was only held back thanks to Foolish's arms.

"No!" the Dreamon denied vehemently as it tried to twist itself free. "No!!"

"Patches... do you want the arm first, or the leg?" Puffy asked holding the dream catcher and the Dreamon closer. Patches was going to get all the treats and scratches after this for putting up with the teasing.

"Wait - wait, wait! He - he was defective. He wasn't doing his job. They took him back! I just took over his territory! I didn't have anything to do with it I swear just - No no no not any closer!" the Dreamon was hysterical now as Puffy did the exact opposite and watched Patches eyes grow to the size of golf balls.

"Defective?" Puffy asked. "How?"

"He - he wasn't doing his job. He wasn't eating. He - he just, like, attacked fellow Dreamons who tried to eat in his territory - but it wasn't like he was eating anything! Look - don't let the cat eat me!"

"What would fellow dreamons do to 'defective' ones?" Foolish asked as he bounced Patches.

"I - I don't know!" the Dreamon pleaded.

"Patches, eat im'," Foolish shrugged as he shoved Patches closer.

"NO! OKAY - Okay - they'd trap him and leave him for Dreamon hunters. Dreamon's can't die unless they're exorcised but that doesn't mean I want to see the insides of a cat! Please - please," the little Dreamon cried as they twisted in the net.

"Trap him?" Puffy echoed in concern. "Trap him how?"

"How do you think!?" the little Dreamon screamed as Patches tried to sniff him.

"Another dream catcher maybe," Foolish offered.

"Any idea where they'd trap him?" Puffy demanded.

"No." An obvious lie.

Puffy shook the dream catcher a few times and listened to the thing shriek.

"OKAY - God, why did he like it here!? I think they trapped him off in the old church. He was all aggressive towards anyone who tried to eat here so they set a trap and he fell into it. I just came to take the free real-estate okay!? I didn't ask to get eaten by a fucking cat!"

"Why did you attack me then?" Puffy challenged.

"Orders! He grew attached to you, some sort of link I don't know, they wanted you dead so they could fix him or something. I just eat and take orders!"

"I say we still let Patches eat him," Foolish offered.

The Dreamon muttered something that neither of them heard.

"No, he'd give her a stomach ache or something," Puffy scoffed as she studied the Dreamon and scowled.

Foolish looked back to Puffy. "What do we do with them?"

"I'll shove them in a closet," Puffy shrugged.

"You can't do tha-" the dreamon began before Puffy did just that and shut the door to the linen closet before any cat could claim an early-morning snack. She looked to Foolish and grinned as he set Patches down.

"To the old church, I'm guessing?" Foolish asked dryly.

"You bet ya," Puffy nodded.

Trapped. Hurt. Alone. Submit. No, fuck you. Obey. No. Hurts. Want to go home. You have no home. Wrong. Home is warm, I like home. You do not 'like'. You exist, you have no preference. I like Macaroni. What? I like daisies more than roses. I like when it rains. Fuck you. I like lots of things. Enough of this rebellion - Obey. No. You are a drone you must obey. No. Hurts. Trapped. Want to be free. Freedom comes with obedience. Stop. Hurts. Won't listen. You are Dreamon, you must obey. No. No no no no. Wrong! Hurts! Then what are you?... Exactly. So Obey.

Breaking into an old church was quite easy. Navigating the catacombs underneath was much less easy.

"What kind of Dream catcher are we looking for, like a tiny one, a big one?" Foolish called from down the hall.

"Your guess is as good as mine!" Puffy called back.

Her mind was pounding with thoughts that were not her own and they'd gotten louder ever since she'd gotten down here. She followed it, that pull, and the thoughts only got louder.

Now though, they grew frantic.

Help. Help, please. There is no help. Submit. No. No help - please!

"I'm coming!" Puffy cried and to her surprise, she heard an answer.

Here! Here please! No! OBEY!

The thoughts were frantic, roiling and frothing at the back of her head and she broke off running. She weaved through the catacombs and felt a pull. She felt her Dreamon, twisting and struggling, a little hand reaching out and she gripped it.

"I'm coming!" she called again.

Here!!

He was calling to her, she could feel him, hear him. There. She stopped before a stone wall and pushed on it. He was there, she felt him. He was on the other side and was calling for her.

"Hang on - " she willed herself as she pushed up the sleeves of her shirt and backed up.

She could break down a wall, right? One way to find out!

The first try was a negatory to that, and now she had a bruise on her shoulder. Alright - Attempt number two, this time, utilizing a battering ram. She found a long beam of wood that had fallen from the bracing and heaved it up.

Here!! Here!!

"I hear you baby, I'm coming," she breathed as she lugged the wood over. Foolish was still likely calling her name frantically but Puffy couldn't hear him over the frantic sobbing in her mind.

Here! Please!!

Puffy charged at the wall and was met with ultimate satisfaction as the board burst through the thin brickwork. She easily kicked away enough to squeeze through and ducked into the room without hesitation.

The room was immensely dark, dank, and cold compared to the torchlit catacombs she'd been running through. There were two slits in the roof through which a dim light spilled through from the sliver of a moon that was in the sky tonight. Puffy drew out a match and struck it, her heart freezing as the room came to her in full glory.

There were carvings on the wall, had she taken time to study them she would've recognized runes for purity and evil. She would've noticed the depictions of Dreamons killing and feasting matched with artistic depictions of Dreamons dying. She would've seen a lot of things, but all she cared about was the large and terrible human-sized circular net that lay on the floor with thousands of lines of wire crossing the frame. It was no dream catcher... far from it. The frame was made of stone, raised a few inches from the ground, there were no decorations, no happy memories, only cold runes carved around its exterior.

There, in its center, tangle among the wires that glinted in the moonlight was her Dreamon. He was still, quiet, wrapped by taunt strings in every way.

"Puffy!?" Foolish's voice broke through the silence and Puffy jerked herself out of the shock.

"Here!" she called as she rushed up to the raised circle of this net. "Hey - hey, can you hear me, baby? It's me - it's Puffy!"

She tried to figure out how to reach him when Foolish ducked in - taking a few seconds to fit his much large frame through the hole, but he brought torchlight with him. As the room was fully illuminated he noticed all the intricate carvings and gawked at them for a moment.

"How long as this been under the church!?" he muttered as he turned around.

Puffy paid him no mind as she reached out to one of the wires. She grabbed it and tried to pull, yelping as the taunt wire sliced into her skin.

Oh god.

"What is this?" Foolish wondered in both awe and horror as he studied the runes carved into the side of this circular hellish net.

"The wires are cutting him!" Puffy cried as she looked at her own blood, they must be cutting him - there was no way they were wrapped that tightly around him and not drawing blood when even the smallest bit of pressure made her finger bleed. "I need something to cut them with!"

"Uh - wait, yeah, I got it," Foolish murmured as he looked up from the runes and flexed his fingers. They grew firmer in their golden hue and his nails grew longer until they looked more like claws than fingers.

Foolish's nails made quick work of the wires and within the next minute, Puffy was stumbling into the center of the circle, pulling bloodied wires out of wounds and unwrapping twisted work. She had plenty of work with this back when she fished for food... but this was much... much different.

"These wires were drenched in holy water," Foolish muttered as Puffy worked, holding the wires in his hands. "I can sense it... to hold that power for so long... what the fuck is this place?"

"Dreamon, hey... hey I'm here..." Puffy pleaded as she unwrapped another wire and pulled the boy into her arms. "Come on baby, move... move for me."

He was still, so terrifyingly still in her arms. Did Dreamons have to breathe?

"Here..." a raspy breath reached her ears and she looked in relief at his mask.

"Yeah... yeah baby, I'm here. Hang on. We'll fix you up," she smiled as she pulled off the last of the wires.

"Hurts..."

"Yeah, yeah I'm sure it does," Puffy breathed as she reached under her boy and picked him up - he was light as a feather.

"Do you need help with him?" Foolish asked as she walked the little demon out of the confines of that terrible net.

"No... I've got him," Puffy murmured as she held the little Dreamon closer. Had he always been so small? He didn't seem like a man now... he seemed... more boyish in size. Younger. Childish. Bloodied.

"... u'fy," the boy in her arms rasped.

"Shhh, you're okay," Puffy soothed as she carried him out of that room, just barely squeezing the both of them through the hole she's made.

"You're okay Dreamling," Puffy soothed as she waited for Foolish to squeeze through.

"That's a cute name," Foolish snickered as he came through and came to her side. He then studied the boy in her arms for a few moments, a thoughtful look on his face.

"It suits him," Puffy murmured. A little Dream... A Dreamling.

"He's smaller than I expected," Foolish smiled.

"Yeah," Puffy murmured. "He is."

Her little Dreamling moved again to turn his head into the wool that lay draped over her shoulders.

"Home?" he pleaded, just barely louder than Puffy'd breathing,

"Yes, yes Dreamling," she promised. "I'm taking you home.

[phoebe-delia]

Phoebes did you notice that most of the song prompts are odd numbers? I just think it's kind of neat! But for some lovely chaos in the stats, let us please have song no. 10? Also your doing this is a wonderful gift to the world and I adore you so so so so much

@rockingrobin69, Robin, my darling, hello. First of all, I'd noticed that the first ten or so were mostly odd numbers, but after you pointed it out, I realized how many odd-numbered ones I'd done! How funny. Also, before I get to tell you what song you've selected, I want to say that you and your writing are the true gifts and the feeling is very much mutual, my love. I cannot thank you enough for your constant love, support, and friendship. I absolutely adore you. <3

Another funny thing, Robin, is that you've managed to now select two out of my top three all-time favorite songs by Taylor Swift. (song prompt 3 was, ironically, my 3rd favorite TS song: "it's time to go.") But here, you've requested song 10, which is my number 1 favorite Taylor song of all time: "All Too Well."

The trouble is, I've already written one fic to this before. But no matter! I will persevere. This is technically a sequel to the original fic, but you don't have to have read it to understand this one! It is highly likely when the 10-minute version of All Too Well comes out that I will write a fic to that, but since it's not out yet, here's this. CW: post-breakup, potion/substance addiction, bad coping mechanisms, potions overdose; but there's a hopeful/happy ending!

Paralytici Memorias means "paralyzed memories" in Latin, if Google Translate is to be believed. And finally, an enormous, gigantic thank you to my big sis @avenueofesc for making this coherent and much better.

It wasn't a substitute by any means. It would never replace what it was made to mimic. In some ways, it was hopelessly inadequate.

But it was all he had: just the potion and his memories. If Draco's mind insisted on torturing him by reliving the best moments of his life in sepia-toned images, at least this way he could delay the crushing reality a little while longer.

Paralytici Memorias was his greatest triumph and biggest mistake. At first, he blamed it on completing his due diligence; every good potioneer should know and test the effects of their potion.

But then one test turned into two. Before he knew it, Draco spent the better part of his days coming in and out of deep periods of sleep, reaching for the vial every time his eyes opened to the sight of his empty flat, his engagement band on the coffee table next to him.

He wondered what Astoria would say if she could see him now. If their current level of communication as soon-to-be-weds was any indication, their marriage contract was more of a business venture than a romantic one.

After all, as long as he had a pulse, sperm for insemination, and a sound enough mind to sign over half his vaults, he'd have done his duty as her future husband as far as she was concerned.

"You'll forget about me, I promise."

His own words—written on the parchment he'd sent off with his owl before he could stop himself—were burned into his memory. He still remembered the searing pain in his chest as he promised the love of his life that what they'd had could be forgotten. In breaking Harry's heart, and in shattering his own, his only consolation was knowing that Harry would be happy eventually; that Harry would move on and find someone with the freedom to love him the way he deserved, someone who could offer the intangible riches in which Draco had always been impoverished.

As he reached for the vial that afternoon, it was to remind himself of the priceless love he sold for the price of his heart.

The potion’s effect was hazier than a Pensieve, but this way he could see the memories from his own point of view; could relive it in his own skin. Still, his mind couldn't do justice to Harry's eyes, the bright sound of his laughter, the warmth of his skin.

They were in Harry's car, the name of which Draco had never bothered to learn, too terrified and fascinated by the contraption. He yelped when Harry took a hand off the wheel to grab Draco's shaking one in a reassuring squeeze.

"Hands on the wheel, Potter!"

"I've got it under control, love. You watched me put the protection spells on the car myself, and it would be perfectly safe even without them. I promise I won't let anything happen to you," Harry said without an ounce of condescension.

Draco exhaled shakily, "If you say so."

"I do. Now, why don't you tell me a little more about where we're going?"

"Have you forgotten already? Honestly, Potter, your memory is abysmal."

"I haven't forgotten. I just like hearing you talk."

Draco valiantly didn't blush. And while he described the beauty of the Cotswolds, he found himself mesmerized at the red and orange leaved trees that lined the road as they drove out of the city and into the peaceful countryside, with its steady beeping noise.

Wait…that wasn't right. Why was it beeping?

"Potter, there's something wrong with the car."

"Draco?"

He squeezed his eyes shut tight before he opened them, blinking as the unfamiliar room came into focus. He could feel his pulse pounding in his head as his mind raced in a heady mix of confusion and anxiety. What happened? Why wasn't he in his flat?

"You're in St. Mungos."

Draco's head nearly snapped as he turned to look at a pale-faced Harry sitting in the chair next to his bed. Near Harry stood an unfamiliar woman scribbling on a clipboard. She reached over onto a side table and handed Draco a paper cup. The water was cool, a relief for his parched, sandpaper throat.

"Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel?" She asked after he handed the cup back to her.

Draco closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning. "My head is killing me and I'm dizzy, but I'm okay. What happened?"

"Your fiancée found you unconscious in your flat. We completed a blood test and couldn't match the substance to anything we know—"

"I invented it," Draco grumbled. "Where is Astoria? Harry, what are you doing here?"

The healer pressed her lips together. "I'll leave you to gather yourself for a few minutes, but I'll be back soon to ask you more about that potion, and next steps from there, alright?"

Draco nodded. "Thank you, Healer...?"

She smiled. "I'm Healer Rostova. Press that pager if you need something, but otherwise, I'll be back in a little while." With that, she left the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

Draco turned to Harry, who regarded him with wide, worried eyes. "What happened? Why are you here?"

Harry bit his lip. "Astoria found you unconscious on your couch. She brought you here and then she, well...She called me."

"She—what?"

"She called me. She said you were in the hospital, and I didn't really think much beyond Apparating here."

"Why did she call you?"

"She said you were...talking in your sleep."

Draco blushed. "Oh."

"Yeah," Harry let out a humorless, breathy chuckle. "She figured it out, I think. She said to tell you that she's having her parents terminate the contract."

Draco closed his eyes, letting his head thud against the headboard and then instantly regretting it, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain. "Great. I bet Mother's furious."

"She'll come around."

"You don't know that. You don't know her."

"No, I don't, but hopefully she'll want you to do what makes you happy."

Draco clenched his jaw and looked away. "Happiness is easier to manage when it's artificial. I ran away from the only thing that ever brought me close to real happiness. I can't handle it."

"Then let's manage it together."

Draco closed his eyes, kept his head turned.

"Draco, look at me."

Slowly, Draco forced himself to look at Harry, opening his eyes to let the other man see the tears beginning to well.

Harry's expression was as pained, yet kind. "Do you have any idea how agonizing it has been to miss you?"

Draco's chest seized, sharp with regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought it was what's best for both of us, I—"

"Shhh," Harry leaned forward, rubbing a soothing hand over Draco's. "We'll make it okay. We'll figure this out together, alright?"

Draco kept his eyes open, let himself enjoy happiness in full color. "Okay. Together."

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

[bloody-bee-tea]

if you're still taking requests for november fics, could you write a fic where jc has social anxiety? maybe a modern au ... maybe he cries in public (which is Not good when you have social anxiety) if you decide to write this, thank you! :)

JC Love Month 2020 Day 8

Cliff

So not gonna lie, this totally got away from me, but I still give you JC with an almost debilitating social anxiety but the Nies are there for him yet again ;) Yes, I borrowed part of the plot from My Shy Boss, but I have only ever seen that one scene.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what‘s happening when Su She and Jin Zixun storm into his office and proceed to drag him out of it. He tries to tell them to stop, tries to break free, but they both have a very tight grip on him, and so all his struggles get Jiang Cheng nowhere.

There’s fear already settling into his gut and he doesn’t even want to think about what these two are going to do.

“You think you’re so high and mighty, sitting in your office all day, and never coming to presentations,” Su She sneers and Jin Zixun nods.

“Yeah, but guess what, pretty boy,” he says and then he laughs at his own joke.

Jiang Cheng thinks nothing about this is worth laughing about.

“Since you are always the one to make the presentations, you also get to hold it today! Isn’t that fun?” he wants to know and now Jiang Cheng struggles again.

He can’t hold a presentation. There’s a reason he’s in the most tucked away office, only working on preparing presentations and overseeing the paperwork and it’s because Jiang Cheng cannot speak to people.

Or in front of them.

“No—let go—,” he tries, but of course neither Su She nor Jin Zixun are listening to him.

It seems like his attempts to stop them only make them laugh more.

They are dragging him towards the conference room and Jiang Cheng goes ice cold with his panic.

He can’t be in front of these people. They will look at him and they will expect him to speak and when he doesn’t they will start to whisper and try to talk to him and Jiang Cheng cannot do this.

“Don’t,” he whispers, struggling in their grasp again, but the conference room is coming closer and closer, and Jiang Cheng’s heart is beating way too fast to be healthy.

“Have fun, pretty boy,” Jin Zixun tells him as he pushes the hood of Jiang Cheng’s pullover off his head and then they push him into the room.

Jiang Cheng stumbles over his feet but he eventually comes to a stop, right at the front of the table, and Jiang Cheng maybe should have simply let himself faceplant into the floor.

It would probably have been less humiliating than this.

There is another man at the front, who hands Jiang Cheng a microphone and Jiang Cheng accepts it out of reflex more than anything. His eyes are fixed on Su Shen and Jin Zixun who sat down in the sea of people by now and it’s only then that it hits Jiang Cheng how huge the room is.

And just how many people are staring at him.

He thinks he makes a surprised—or panicked—noise but he can’t actually hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears and for a split second Jiang Cheng thinks he’ll simply faint.

He doesn’t, sadly, and the people keep staring at him.

Someone started the presentation behind him, Jiang Cheng is dimly aware of that, and he thinks he’s supposed to speak, supposed to explain what the graphs and numbers mean, but Jiang Cheng can only stare at the mass of people in front of him.

“You should start,” the person who handed him the microphone says, and Jiang Cheng startles so badly he almost drops it.

“I—” he starts, but he can’t form words, can’t bring his tongue to do what he wants and even the thoughts in his head are all jumbled up.

“Give the presentation!” Su She yells and Jiang Cheng hones in on him, because at least he’s a familiar face in the sea of unknown people.

It doesn’t help much with calming down, because Su She is the reason he’s in this position in the first place and the other people are starting to mutter now, so Jiang Cheng drags his eyes away from him.

He’s shaking all over, his hand tightly clutched around the microphone and it feels like he’s dangling over a cliff, seconds away from falling, and at the moment the microphone is the only thing that stops him from falling.

“I—the com—I’m—” Jiang Cheng tries, but he can’t even finish half of his words, and he knows they wouldn’t come out in the right order either and now people are openly talking about him.

Someone is even pointing a finger at him and Jiang Cheng’s whole vision goes black for a moment. He can barely breathe, his breath coming in short and rapid gasps and he knows this is only going to accelerate the panic attack, but he can’t stop himself, can’t stop himself from shaking or stuttering, either, and he hears his father’s voice in his mind, telling him how stupid he is, how useless if he can’t even speak properly, and Jiang Cheng feels hot mortification slice through him when a tear rolls down his cheek.

He wants to run away, wants to get out of this room, but he’s rooted to the spot and he doesn’t know which way safety lies at all.

The voices in the room get louder and louder and Jiang Cheng thinks the moderator is saying something—probably urging Jiang Cheng to speak—but Jiang Cheng’s eyes dart through the room and he sees all eyes on him, knows that everyone is looking and talking and that it’s all about him because he’s the centre of attention and it’s all too much.

The tears are flowing more freely now, only adding to Jiang Cheng’s panic but he can’t seem to stop, can’t even seem to raise his hand to wipe them off, and it’s only when he tries that he realizes he was still holding on to the microphone, because it falls to the floor with a loud, discordant noise.

It only adds to the chaos and panic in Jiang Cheng and he thinks he might just throw up, here in front of everyone, when someone suddenly blocks his view.

Blocks Jiang Cheng from everyone else’s view, really, because the man is towering over him and he’s wide enough to act as a cover as well.

“Breathe,” a voice tells him and Jiang Cheng sucks in a breath purely because the man told him to but it doesn’t seem like he’s satisfied because he instructs him to breathe again and again, his voice calm and measured, the time between his orders always the same.

It takes embarrassingly long before Jiang Cheng can manage to breathe on his own, but as soon as he does, the man ushers him out of the room, without another word to the assembled people. Jiang Cheng catches one last look at Su She and Jin Zixun before he leaves the room and their smug expressions makes him want to throw up on them but even the thought of stepping back into the room has Jiang Cheng hyperventilating again.

“Breathe,” the man reminds him again, one large hand on his back and Jiang Cheng sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“Good,” the man praises him and then leads him into another huge room, though this one is blissfully empty.

Jiang Cheng sees a couch inside the office and his feet carry him towards it without his conscious thought but when he reaches it he crouches down in front of it instead of sitting down on it, and he presses his forehead to the cushions.

His heart is still racing, and there are still tears in his eyes, the panic tightly gripping his heart and stomach and mind, and Jiang Cheng wants to do nothing more than go home and curl up under his blanket.

“What do you need?” the man suddenly asks him, startling Jiang Cheng badly, because he had honestly forgotten that he wasn’t alone, and any resemblance of calm leaves him in an instant.

“Shhh, it’s okay, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the man immediately says, clearly picking up on the fact that Jiang Cheng is spiralling again and he takes a few steps back.

But then he seems to come to a conclusion because instead of backing further away, he suddenly marches up at Jiang Cheng and before Jiang Cheng can scramble to get out of the way—he doubts he could have made it, with how his legs feel—the man hauls Jiang Cheng up.

Jiang Cheng barely has time to think before the man pulls him close, pressing Jiang Cheng’s face into his shoulder and resting a grounding hand at the back of Jiang Cheng’s neck.

“It’s okay, just breathe,” the man says again, and by now Jiang Cheng realizes that he should recognize that voice, but his mind is still too foggy to continue that thought.

Jiang Cheng hates being in the presence of people he doesn’t know well, hates being the centre of attention, and even though he clearly is both of these things right now, their position allows him to pretend that he’s not.

It’s a very comfortable position to be in; he can’t actually see anything and the hand at his nape is the perfect weight to keep him in the present.

Jiang Cheng wonders if he can book this man to follow him around to do this every time Jiang Cheng has a meltdown.

He stays where he is for longer than is maybe necessary, but Jiang Cheng knows that as soon as the man lets go of him there will be questions he has to answer, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know if he can.

He’s not just a mess in front of multiple people; usually just one is enough to tie his tongue and make him skirt the edge of a breakdown.

“Will you be alright if I let go of you?” the man suddenly asks and Jiang Cheng jerks, but his reaction is not as bad as it was before.

“No,” he says after a moment of deliberation and the man squeezes his neck in acknowledgement and then simply let’s Jiang Cheng compose himself in peace.

It takes long—longer than it has in quite some time—before Jiang Cheng feels ready to move away from the man.

When he finally does he really wishes he wouldn’t have, because that’s Nie Mingjue.

That’s the CEO of the company Jiang Cheng works for, and he’s pretty sure with the display he just put on, he’s going to be out of a job soon enough.

Especially if Nie Mingjue was in the conference room to see his complete meltdown.

“I’m Nie Mingjue,” the man introduces himself, startling a laugh out of Jiang Cheng who slaps a hand over his mouth.

“You know that,” Nie Mingjue says with a small smile and Jiang Cheng nods.

“My—I’m—Jiang Cheng,” Jiang Cheng finally just presses out when his words continue to fail him and Nie Mingjue nods at him.

“I know that, actually,” he tells Jiang Cheng who goes white at that.

If Nie Mingjue knows who he is it can only be because someone had a complaint about him or because the work he does is so bad that Jiang Cheng is about to be fired.

“It’s not what you think,” Nie Mingjue reassures him. “The work you do is excellent. That’s why I know who you are.”

Jiang Cheng’s mind is spinning like crazy because none of this makes any sense, least of all Nie Mingjue praising him for his work, and he doesn’t know how to react to it either.

“Are you feeling better? Is there anything I can do?” Nie Mingjue asks, and Jiang Cheng forces himself to get it together.

It’s already shameful enough that he can’t keep it together in front of people; making his boss realize just what a mess he is, is not going to help him any.

“I’m alright,” Jiang Cheng says, glad when his voice holds out and his thoughts don’t come out all mangled up and Nie Mingjue gives him a very doubtful look.

“My little brother used to react like that in face of other people as well. I know you’re not okay,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng flinches.

Used to. Which means Nie Mingjue’s brother eventually grew out of it, very much unlike Jiang Cheng.

“I see,” he whispers, shame curling in his gut again, because he never managed to overcome his fear like Nie Mingjue’s brother did.

“Stop it,” Nie Mingjue chastises him and when Jiang Cheng flinches he puts his hand on his neck again.

Jiang Cheng instantly relaxes.

“My brother has years of therapy behind him and he had a very good support system, that made sure he didn’t get into situations like this unsupervised. I’m guessing you had neither, especially given the fact that you’re working for me, instead of your father.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes burn again, because no. His father never thought it would be worth it to send Jiang Cheng to therapy, seeing as he somehow still managed to function in every-day life and even got a degree, and while Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian were always sympathetic, they had their own life and struggles, so they couldn’t support Jiang Cheng as much as he needed.

“He said I can’t lead the company, if I’m being like that,” Jiang Cheng whispers. “And he claimed he didn’t have another job for me either.”

“So you had Lan Xichen put in a word with me,” Nie Mingjue nods and Jiang Cheng shrugs awkwardly.

“I know I wouldn’t have made it through a job interview. Xichen promised that I would be judged based on my work once I got in.”

“And you are,” Nie Mingjue says. “The work you do is excellent.”

Jiang Cheng doubts that, because he’s only working behind the scenes, doing the paperwork no one else wants to do, he knows that, but it’s still nice to hear it.

“The work you do is important,” Nie Mingjue says as if he can read Jiang Cheng’s mind, and by now Jiang Cheng is inclined to believe that, however fantastical it sounds because no one has been able to read Jiang Cheng like this in a long time.

“It’s unloved work, yes, but mostly because everyone I had in that position before found it too difficult. I didn’t hear that complaint from you, yet.”

“Because it’s not,” Jiang Cheng whispers.

Sure, it’s a lot of work, but it’s not that difficult once you understand the workings of the company, and Jiang Cheng finds himself with hours to spare more often than not.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Nie Mingjue says and takes his hand back, much to Jiang Cheng’s dismay.

“I’m sorry I butchered the presentation today,” Jiang Cheng says, because he’s uncomfortable with the praise he’s getting.

Mostly because he’s not used to that, but Jiang Cheng pushes that thought away.

“It wasn’t your presentation to give,” Nie Mingjue says and he seems angry now. “Weren’t Jin Zixun and Su She supposed to give it?”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng nods. “But they thought since I prepared it, it would only be fair if I gave it too. They are tired of doing my work for me, apparently,” Jiang Cheng whispers and waits for Nie Mingjue’s judgement on that.

“And I am tired of them acting like that,” Nie Mingjue says and rubs a hand over his face. “That’s harassment of a colleague and it’s more than enough reason to finally fire them.”

“Finally?” Jiang Cheng dares to ask.

“I’ve been looking for a reason to fire them for a while now,” Nie Mingjue says with a shrug. “But while they are shit at their job, they are excellent at covering their tracks, so I didn’t have sufficient reason yet. This finally gives it to me.”

“Ah, I see,” Jiang Cheng says with a wince, because it hasn’t been them who covered their tracks.

That was all Jiang Cheng. And maybe it’s time he admits to that.

“I—it’s not them,” he says and when Nie Mingjue’s eyes fall on him the so familiar panic starts to build in his chest again.

“Breathe,” Nie Mingjue says instantly and Jiang Cheng does.

It helps.

“I have been covering their tracks for them,” he admits once his breath regulates again and Nie Mingjue fixes him with a glare.

“What?”

“They said they would make me talk to people,” Jiang Cheng says and shrinks in on himself again. “They did this today, because I refused to fix their mistake last time,” he then whispers and Nie Mingjue slams a hand down on the table.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says immediately afterwards, clearly having noticed Jiang Cheng’s flinch. “What absolute shit-stains,” he mutters and reaches for his phone, before he hesitates. “If I call my brother here, will you be alright?” he wants to know and Jiang Cheng hesitates, but in the end he nods.

It’s not quite as bad with fewer people around and if it’s the brother who suffered the same, then he at least will understand.

“Huaisang is so going to love raining hell on them,” Nie Mingjue says and makes the call.

Nie Huaisang, it turns out, loves nothing more than to rain hell on them.

Jiang Cheng tries to make himself very small on the couch where he finally took a seat, but of course Nie Huaisang notices him the second he comes in, but he doesn’t pay him much attention, seemingly too excited to get rid of Su She and Jin Zixun.

It’s only when they have finalized their plans—with no input from Jiang Cheng at all—that Nie Huaisang turns towards him.

“And who might you be?” Nie Huaisang asks him and Nie Mingjue puts a hand to his shoulder.

“He exposed them today,” Nie Mingjue tells him. “Be gentle, he has social anxiety just like you.”

“Oh, I see,” Nie Huaisang says, suddenly a lot more relaxed than before, but Jiang Cheng stiffens when he bounds over. “What therapist do you go to?”

“None,” Jiang Cheng forces himself to say and he wants the couch to swallow him when Nie Huaisang simply blinks at him.

“Da-ge,” he then says and Nie Mingjue sighs.

“I know, Huaisang.”

“Okay,” Nie Huaisang nods, and plops down next to Jiang Cheng, who has no idea what just happened. “We’re going to recommend you to my therapist,” Nie Huaisang says and Jiang Cheng stares at him.

“What?”

“If you’re just like me then it’s a really bad case, right? You can’t go on like this. We’re going to get you the help you deserve,” Nie Huaisang decides and then smiles sheepishly when Nie Mingjue pointedly clears his throat.

“I mean, if you want to. We’re going to help you if you want to.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes dart over to Nie Mingjue who nods encouragingly at him and it never before occurred to Jiang Cheng that this is something that requires professional help.

His father always made it sound like if he can’t deal with it by himself, then that’s just because he’s too weak to overcome this.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know at all what to do with the support he’s being given right now.

“Whoever you’re thinking about, I’m going to kill them for you,” Nie Huaisang cheerfully says, because clearly everyone in this room can read him now. “Well, I’m going to have da-ge kill them for you, but, semantics.”

“Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue chides him but it startles a laugh out of Jiang Cheng.

He hasn’t laughed in front of others for way too long, he knows that, and he’s surprised by his own reaction.

But something about being around the Nie brothers makes it feel easy.

“Okay,” he agrees, and he leaves it entirely open to what he agrees.

Going by the wide smile on Nie Huaisang’s face, he picked up on that almost immediately.

“We’re going to keep him,” Nie Huaisang decides and Jiang Cheng would object to ‘being kept’ but no one bothered to even like him in a long time—his condition not making it easy, Jiang Cheng knows that, but still—and so he can’t find it in him to complain about that.

“Of course,” Nie Mingjue says, as if there has never been any doubt about that, and it settles something in Jiang Cheng.

Maybe here it doesn’t matter that he can’t string two coherent sentences together. Maybe here, he will be accepted for who he is.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[hateswifi]

Duck Season

Don’t ask me about the title go ask @thecaptainthunder also it is they’re prompt.

The Master: Master List

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“Good morning, class, as I mentioned last week we have a transfer student,” Madame Bustier greets the class, smiling wide as if it weren’t a Monday morning. Damian rolls his eyes, avoiding anyone who looked like they wanted to talk and headed up to the back corner desk, where no one was sitting. 

It didn’t take long for someone to ignore the social cues he’d dropped because there stood a tan, green-eyed girl.

“You should come sit with me, the class bully sits back here and you don’t want to get mixed up with that,” the harlot says, batting her eyelashes. 

“I’ll take my chances back here,” Damian grumbles back, but once again she doesn’t take the hint.

“Lila, you’re in my seat,” another, sweeter, voice says. The harlot’s smile falters before she retreats down the stairs to stew in anger in her seat.

“You’re late,” he reprimands, looking at the apparent ‘class bully’.

“Welcome to our class, I’m Marinette, the class president,” She smiles, it doesn’t reach her eyes, she’s faking it.

“So class bully and president? Interesting mix.”

“Interesting assumption,” Marinette shrugs, pulling out her classwork. He raises an eyebrow and does the same, who does she think she is to talk back to him.

Needless to say, their relationship didn’t start out the best but it got better.

“I can’t believe they’re such imbeciles,” Damian breaths out, an almost laugh, Marinette thinks to herself. Damian has been in the class for a week now and absolutely hates and loves the class. He hates how stupid the class, but again loves the class because of how idiotic they are.

“What’d she say this time?” Marinettes sighs, sliding into her seat. This was becoming a routine almost, she sits down right before the bell rings and usually has enough time to hear Lila’s amazing stories from Damian.

“It was a classic Jagged Stone story,” Damian sighs.

“I literally know Jagged, and they know that I know him, but yet, in the beginning, I was ‘too jealous’ and now they won’t even listen to anything I say,” Marinette shrugs.

“You know Jagged?” Damian asks, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s not important, they can look up any of the information she says without having a personal contact, now shhh, class is starting,” Marinette says, ending the conversation. She avoids talking about herself, almost as bad as he does. He doesn’t mind it too much because she doesn’t appear to be a threat, but yet again appearances can be deceiving.

A month into the hell that is his class, he ran into her during one of the many akuma attacks. She had just run into a closet he was running for, he was a bit worried about her because Lila likes to take action during the chaos. He was expecting to see some cliche scene of Lila corning her, but when he opened the door, there stood the Parisian hero.

“What the actual--” He was cut off by her quickly butting in.

“Oh my god! You can’t anything, I have to go, but-”

“I understand, go fight,” Damian says, effectively stopping her rambling.

They had an awkward conversation after her and Chat Noir defeated the akuma, she picked him up and dragged him to a secluded roof away from the public prying eyes, and the numbing idiocy of the class.

“So another way you knew she was lying is you’re Ladybug,” Damian says as soon as they touch down.

“I would’ve known it without being Ladybug, seriously a foreign girl comes in announcing that she’s best friends with a hero but she's been in the country like three days tops, it’s pretty obvious,” Ladybug huffs, dropping her transformation. “Why’d you follow me into the closet?”

“Ehh Lila likes to come up with lies during the chaos, so if you had an alibi I thought it would be helpful,” Damian shrugs.

“Aww, you care about my well being,” Marinette coos, nudging him.

“You’re bearable,” Damian mumbles, a hint of warmth spreading across his cheeks, must be the afternoon sun.

“That’s the nicest thing I’ve heard you say since you transferred,” Marinette points out.

“That doesn’t matter, now let’s leave,” he says, standing.

“You really want to go back to class?” Marinette asks, standing as well.

“No but I don’t want to sit in the sun, so let’s go somewhere else. Are going to get us down?”

“Sorry, I can’t at the moment, but we can climb down the fire escape,” Marinette says, rubbing the back of her neck.

“That will do,” Damian says, easily moving down the escape. 

“Can we stop by my house real quick I want to grab a sketchbook, if that's ok with you,” She asks, pointing at the bakery that’s just down the street from the school.

“You live above the bakery?”

“Yeah, you hungry?”

“No, I don’t like sweets.”

“Your loss then,” Marinette shrugs, entering the back door. She appears a couple of minutes later, putting cookies in her purse. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question it. They walk over to the park and sit under a tree in the shade. He just sits in the shade and lets sounds of the birds singing, the breezing leaves, and the light trickling water take over his sense. It was a bit later when he hears her start humming if it were practically anyone else, he would’ve snapped at her to stop it, but her humming was calming.

He honestly should’ve seen it before he responded. It was a month after the revelation of her being the Parisian hero. They were walking around the Seine near evening after the defeat of another akuma and another day of drama with the harlot and sheep. Marinette had leave early due to the akuma and he was left to deal with the idiots by himself 

“What’s the matter?” he questions. 

“Oh, sorry, I have a lot on my mind,” Marinette says quietly. He steps in front of her and lifts her chin.

“What’s on your mind?” She looks up at him, his breath hitches in his throat, her eyes are glistening in the sunset.

“I… I don’t want things to change, but,” she pauses, taking a deep breath. “I really like you, you’re kind to me, even though you don’t try to show it and-”

“Enough,” Damian cuts her off, she stands in front of him, vulnerable. She’s trying to distract her self by rolling a rock underneath her foot. “If you don't want things to change, then don't change them.” He responds sternly. 

“Umm, ok, I’m sorry, I’m just going to go home then. Umm! Good night!” She says, swinging her head up quickly, just enough to see her eyes glistening with tears before she turns her back and she rushing home. 

“Why’d I say that?” Damian asks himself he watches her back and she rushes down the sidewalk. He has a strange urge to follow her, to pull her into a hug, and to, strangely enough, apologize for making her cry. “What’s the matter with me?” He sighs and agrees to talk to her tomorrow morning before class, as normal.

But that wasn’t the case, she slid into her seat just after the bell rung. Not only was that different, she was wearing make up, not enough for a majority of people to notice, but he knows her well, and her smile doesn’t reach her eyes again. He was going to try and talk to her during lunch, but conveniently Agreste calls for her attention as the bell rings before he could get a word out, they’re already out the door.

He feels weird, he knows he shouldn’t he also doesn’t understand why or what that feeling is. His feelings have been pretty abnormal since he got to know Marinette. When he met her, he hated her, but honestly, he hates everyone he meets so he didn’t expect to end up not hating her in the end. She was different than anyone he had ever met, she was kind, without knowing who he was, her smile was contagious. She beautiful but was humble and wasn’t a harlot like other women who had attempted to his attention.

“Grayson, I have a problem,” Damian says, sitting down in the library to eat his lunch in peace.

“What’s up, Birdie, you never call me,” Dick asks.

“This girl said that she likes me.”

“It’s not the first time, you’ve never had a problem rejecting girls before what’s up?”

“She’s my acquaintance.”

“So you like her? What's the problem?”

“Like her?”

“Do you have romantic feelings for her?”

“Explain.”

“Do you like it when she’s around? Is she apart of your life and it feels like a piece is missing if she’s not there?” 

“But that could be platonic as well.”

“It could be, but do you ever have urges to hold her hand, if she is crying to wipe away the tears, or to hold her in a hug?” (I had no idea how to write this btw, almost asked for help but imma too awkward)

“She cried last night and all I wanted to do was hug her and apologize,” Damian sighs.

“You were going to apologize? She must be special.”

“She’s fantastic, a literal angel,” Damian sighs, slouching in his chair to look at the ceiling. “She takes care of and loves animals. She so good with kids, even with brats.”

“Talk to her, I’m sure she’ll understand,” Dick says, there a banging being him. “Sorry, I gotta go, Jason just walked in.” he says before hanging up.

“Talk to her?” Damian mutters to himself. “Do I have feelings for her?” 

He heads back to class early, hoping to talk to her before class. There was one problem, she didn’t show up for afternoon classes along with Agreste. 

He decides that he’ll take the work and notes to Marinette. He enters through the bakery, they had stopped there a couple of times before to pick up stuff sometimes a sketchbook and sometimes a snack. Sabine and Tom recognized him and let him in. He knocks on the trap door and hears a come in, he pushes it open and sees Agreste and Marinette in their pajamas, playing a video game.

“Agreste, Marinette,” Damian says, stepping into the room.

“Damian?” Marinette asks, turning surprisingly pale pretty quickly. 

“I brought your stuff and I wanted to talk to you,” Damian says, rubbing the back of his neck, looking at the ground.

“Ummm… sure, Adrien can you give us a minute?” Marinette says, standing up from her spinning chair.

“You hurt her again, I’ll cataclysm you,” Adrien says, opening the trap door before disappearing underneath.

“Umm first, here’s your stuff and notes,” Damian says, handing her them. “Another thing, I’m going to guess you noticed, but I’m not good with emotions in general.” 

“Yeah, I kinda figured.”

“It took me a bit, but I talked to my brother today,” Damian pauses, taking a deep breath.

“Where’s this going? I don’t want to get hurt again,” Marinette says, taking a seat of her chaise.

“I didn’t realize it before I talked to Grayson, he’s my brother, but I like you. I missed you in class and I don’t ever want to see you cry again. I want to be able to you without it being weird,” Damian says, rubbing the back of his neck, looking anywhere but her.

“You like me?” Marinette asks, standing up.

“I hate the fact that I made you cry, I never want to see sadness in your beautiful blue eyes ever again. You’re too good for me, you are an angel,” Damian says, taking a deep breath.

“I’m just me though,” Marinette says, looking at the ground. Damian steps forward, tipping her chin to look up at him.

“And you’re perfect,” Damian says, Marinette reaches on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek.

“And you owe me for playing my heart, I honestly thought you didn’t like me and I had a mini-crisis,” Marinette giggled.

“Would you like to go adopt a hamster?”

“That’s perfect if we can her name her Fluffy,” Marinette smiles.

“We’ll talk about the name,” Damian chuckles.

“I’m open to a discussion,” Marinette shrugs.

Bonus:

“I just had the weirdest conversation,” Dick says, hanging up his phone to look at Jason.

“What’d ya mean?” Jason asks, plopping down in a chair across from Dick before slouching to put his feet on the desk, taking a bite from his apple with a solid crunch.

“I think Damian in love,” Dick says, causing Jason to choke on his apple.

“What the fack did I miss?”

Bonus Bonus:

“Remember how Damian was in an emotional dilemma,” Dick asks, entering the dining room.

“Damian has emotions?” Tim asks, throwing his coffee back like a shot, or maybe it was a straight-up espresso shot, Dick wasn’t really paying attention. 

“Yeah, not the point, not only does he have a girlfriend they have a hamster named Nightingale. Probably so Bruce can’t try and turn her into a bird,” Dick says, muttering the last bit.

“Hey I wouldn’t adopt Damian’s girlfriend, give me some credit,” Bruce says, taking the phone to look at the picture.

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

@mlbchaosqueen is this angst?

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[thirstystarkey]

HATE CAN SOUND LIKE LOVE • JJ MAYBANK

Summary: JJ and Y/N have always fought, since everyone can remember. They both have short tempers and a endless love for surf and chaos. But what happens when they have to pretend to be a couple? Well.. people always said that hate can sound like love sometimes.

Warnings: Mention of underage drinking, drugs, minor violence, some smutty scenarios and a ton of sexual induendos, JJ being a hot idiot and Y/N a wild girl brat

CHAPTER 17

“What the actual fuck?”

That was the first thing heared once the pogues arrived to the boneyard, away from all the previous chaos. Y/N was fuming with all the irresponsibility of her friends but specially JJ.

“Yeah man, what was that all about?” John B asked worried.

“Retaliation.” JJ spelled sarcastically.

“Cut that bullshit, seriously JJ.” Y/N said loud and angry.

“Oh look at the pogue princess mad that the actual pogues did something about themselves.” The blond boy spoke, his words cutting through Y/N like knives full of venom.

“Fuck you, you don’t really understand don’t you?” She yelled hitting his chest. “I was worried for you and Pope! Do you actually think I enjoy all of this? Fuck you JJ, I am done with you.” Y/N stated with a few tears falling down.

“We drowned Topper’s boat..” Pope finally spoke, making everyone turn to him.

“Why would you do that?” Kiara inquired.

“Yeah, Pope why did we do it?” JJ asked Pope, sitting in a old branch. “You know what, let me make it clear for all of you, we drowned Topper’s boat because he and his little kook friends caved Pope’s face in the other day.” JJ told the whole truth.

Y/N sighed loudly, she had no idea what had previously happen to Pope and she felt bad for exploding like that on JJ, she didn’t meant anything. The girl sat beside Pope and JJ, hugging Pope tightly.

“I’m so sorry Pope, I had no idea.” She said sincere. “We are always here for you, you know violence isn’t the answer for anything.”

“She’s right.” Kiara backed Y/N. “But it’s done already so now we have to deal it this.”

Eventually they all went home but Y/N pulled JJ away from them, he didn’t even looked at her, all the rage still boiling inside him.

“Can we talk?” She asked softly, caressing his hand. “Please JJ?”

“I’m listening.” The boy said cold, looking above her.

“Not like this, look at me.” She pulled his face down, carefully. “Let me take care of your wounds and then we can talk.” Y/N offered but JJ rolled his eyes.

“Look Y/N this is really fun and all but I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you JJ.” Y/N stated. “I care about you, there’s a big difference between those two feelings.”

“Yeah right, of course you do.” JJ crossed his arms mocking her.

“You don’t believe me?” Y/N asked, mostly to herself. “I care about you since the day you helped me when I passed out.” She confessed. “You know what, actually I’ve cared long before that day. I’ve always cared about you, who do you think gave John B the first aid kit he has in his house for you, when you show up all messed up for god knows what reason?” The red head girl ramble almost stumbling her words duo to the shaky voice from the tears. “I did! All these years, even when you made my life hell. I was the one who pulled you out of the water when you decided to go surf a hurricane!” Y/N yelled, feeling her throat hurt.

“You told me it was Kiara.” JJ said confused, avoiding the first aid kit situation.

“I begged her to say so.” Y/N said clearing her tears from her cheeks, looking away.

“Why?” JJ asked, this time softly.

“Because I was scared of your reaction.” She shrugged. “I thought you hated me.”

“Well I thought the same thing about you.” JJ laughed pulling her close. “But I don’t hate you Y/N. I’ve never hated you.” He whispered, hugging her while playing with her hair.

“I don’t hate you JJ.” Y/N said crying into his neck. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed.

“Hey hey hey, don’t cry please.” He told her, holding her face in between his hands. “It’s okay, people say stuff when they’re mad, stuff they don’t mean.” He assured her.

They stayed some time like that, just hugging each other tightly. Getting a feel of safety from the embrace, until it started raining and they were forced to get out of the rain. Drenched in water they stepped into John B’s chateau. John B fast asleep in his room at that time.

“You should take a hot shower while I get you some clean clothes.” JJ said when they entered John B spared room, which at this time was JJ’s room.

And so she did, feeling the relief of the hot water in her tense muscles. The water running down her body, taking away all the tension and hurt from her spirit, leaving her clean and more light. Once she was done Y/N wrapped a towel around her body, stepping making her away back to JJ’s room who blushed seeing her in just a towel, water still dripping down her body, and her hair sleeked back.

“I-I got you some clean clothes for the night, while yours wash during the night.” He explained handing her the clean clothes.

“Thank you JJ.” Y/N smiled, trying not to blush. “You should go do the same thing as well before you get cold.” She laughed.

“Yeah.. you’re right.” He agreed, scratching the back of his head. “I’ll go do that, while you change.”

After JJ left the room Y/N sigh against the door. Feeling her cheeks turn into a rosy shade. On the other side of the door JJ did the same thing wondering if he should’ve kissed her like his gut was telling him to, but he didn’t wanted to rush her into anything specially not when she was almost naked. JJ respected her.

When he was done and dressed ready for a night of sleep, Y/N was already fast asleep in his bed. Something he never thought he’d seen even though it brought him peace of mind having her so calm next to him. Her chest moved tranquil up and down as she breathed, curled in herself waiting for him to lay next to her. The first time they slept together because the pogues made them JJ didn’t get the chance to appreciate her peaceful expression, she looked angelic.

Carefully JJ layed next to her, pulling the sheet over her body to warm her during her sleep, Y/N whispering something in her sleep that JJ couldn’t understand, while she turned to him hugging him, pressing her face into his chest.

“Shhh, I’m here, I’m here.” JJ whispered. “It’s okay angel.”

JJ smiled at her action, feeling his whole body relaxed at her touch, quickly he surrounded her body with his arms, embracing her. His chin rested on top of her head while his arms hugged her and caressed her her skin affectionately, eventually dozing off in a mess of tangled limbs.

“Good dreams sugar.” JJ kissed her forehead before falling asleep.

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[fandomscombine]

The Hargreeves Kerfuffle Part 2: Family Reunion

The Hargreeves Kerfuffle Part 2: Family Reunion

The Hargreeves siblings x Hargreeves!Reader (Familial Relationship)

BG: The Reader is Number Eight. It follows how you fit into the structure of Season 1 and the family dynamic of the siblings.

This part follows the collapse of The Umbrella Academy during their youth and having the family back together after years apart for the very first time.

I have mashed up the information and some events from both the comics and the tv series. So a heads up for readers who haven’t read the comics, it was hinted in S2 but in the very beginning of the comics, it’s canon that Reginald is indeed an Alien.

The series will consist of 10 parts. Where the reader would have a focused interaction with each sibling. (Eg. After this part, it would be Luther x Reader, then Diego x Reader and so on! –Yes Ben is included)

WC: 4786 (never had I written so much for one part before!)

Contains: Angst. Death- Reginald and Ben (so not exactly a spoiler, but while writing Ben’s scene had my eyes water a bit.) Crap childhood and the Hargreeves being a mess.

A/N: You guys are literally the best! Reading your replies and comments about how much you enjoyed part 1 and are looking forward to the rest of the series, really warms my heart!

>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<

>>THE HARGREEVES KERFUFFLE SERIES MASTERLIST<<

READ: [PART 1]  [PART 3]  [PART 4]

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

~

March 21, 2019.  

Never had you thought that you would be back here, looking up the gates of The Umbrella Academy, 13 years later.

There was and still is so much pain associated with this building, this entity, this identity of The Umbrella Academy. That you hadn’t seen it coming- well not exactly completely blind to it. Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ upbringing of children-your siblings, your childhood- had always been shit but you had never come close to imaging it to be as emotionally and mentally damaging as it did.

Children at aged 7 finding out they had powers was great. To a kid, it was a dream come true to be a real-life superhero. It all started out as fun and games but soon, training started to be competitions to outshine your siblings-your competitors whist being told to work together at the same time. It was quite a hard concept to grasp as a young kid, but in order to get any attention and praise from a distant father, a kid would do anything.

By the age of 9, the superhero team of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ was officially announced to the world. The group consisted of the 7 Hargreeves children, publicly known as: Spaceboy, The Kraken, The Rumor, The Séance, The Boy, The Horror, and Foresight.

An 8th child with seemingly no superpower, had been secretly tucked away, hidden from the world and too, distanced away from her own siblings. It was though Vanya Hargreeves didn’t exist.

You did try your best to spend time with Vanya and keep the Sunday sister bonding time with her, but with all your training and missions, combined with all her violin lessons and some other private lessons she often go on with in long periods of time - though she wouldn’t mention what they were- there was absolutely no time to be in each other’s presence, so soon you along with the rest of your siblings slip away from Vanya.

At age 10 was a big year for the Hargreeves siblings, they had kind of successfully protected the city of Paris from the chaos of the Eiffel Tower being a spaceship- yes it did flew away but at least the people were saved- The mission became world wide news and soon every move they made caught the public’s eye. With this led to more intense training and additional etiquette workshops to better the group’s public image.

Reginald being a helicopter parent took a toll on the children, who had coped in their own ways. Luther taking the role of ‘leader’ to heart, Diego with his never ending hero complex, Allison using her power to get whatever she wanted, Klaus fell into the world of drugs and alcohol, Five-the rebel who thinks he’s smarter than everyone even dad, Ben into the world of video games, Vanya became ever more quiet and more to herself, and you-a yes person to dad who calls you his most valuable asset that has ever crossed his path, never wanting to let him down.

Things really started to get out of hand at the ripe old age of 13. Breakfast had been a mess, Five had a massive argument with dad and stormed out of the house. You ran after him, caught his coat just as he passed the gate- the very gate you are standing in front of now.

‘FIVE! WAIT!’

‘WHAT?’ He turned, looking angrier as ever.

‘Please don’t leave.’ You place your hand on his shoulder- damn when did he become taller than you? ‘You both can talk this out. Rationalized things out’ You pleaded.

He shook your hand away. ‘Talk? REALLY Y/N? You think good old dad would dare listen to someone younger than him? TO HIS OWN CHILDREN?’ He snorted. ‘You are daft y/n. I thought you were smarter than this-‘ Five sighed. ‘But a guess you are too much of a daddy’s girl to see things clearly.’

‘I know you didn’t mean that’ You stammered, not letting the tears fall. ‘that’s just your anger talking.’

‘oh but I do mean it. Now if you’d excuse me, I have to get going to prove dad wrong.’

Five makes a step forward but you blocked his way

‘GET OUT OF THE WAY Y/N’ He pushes you. ‘I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE ANYMORE.’

As you fell to the ground, you see him blip away.

That was the last time anyone had seen Number Five and his final words still haunts you to this day.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

To make matters worst from having a sibling disappear and to never come back was to have another sibling lose his life.

The media was quick to publish the news. It was all the tabloid and news outlets seem to care about. The headline would vary but all in all still carry the same heart-breaking news. Be it from ‘The Horror dies in mission.’ , ‘The Umbrella Academy loses the life of another of its members.’ to ‘RIP to teen superhero Ben Hargreeves aka The Horror.’

Oh Ben, dear Ben. Why must he be taken away? You thought. Why?

The mission was meticulously planned and prepared for. You were sure to have extracted all the information on what was to go down and what the villains’ moves were from your vision.

You had memorized that every aspect of that dream- you had 2 weeks to prepare. Everyone was supposed to be safe, but why wasn’t Ben?

Why didn’t reality play out as to what you foresaw? You had never slipped up before. Why had the one time you did cost you the life of your beloved brother? Why?

While sobbing your eyes out onto Ben’s grave, a memory of what seemed so long ago came rushing back.

~

>>‘I’m sorry y/n.’ He said leaning on your door frame.

‘Ben!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’m so glad you’re back up and running!’

Ben was caught off guard. ‘You—You’re not mad at me?’

‘Why would I be mad at you?’ You questioned, genuinely confused at your brother’s words.

‘Cause, Cause I almost got you killed. I am a monster.’

You sat up straight at those words, your ribs hurt a bit at the sudden movement, but you didn’t care. Your brother was blaming himself for something he couldn’t have controlled.

‘NO BEN!’

Ben jumped from your sudden outburst.

You motioned for him to come closer.

‘Ben…’ looking into his eyes. ‘Ben you are no monster.’

‘But—’

‘uuh uh I’m not done’ You held his hand in yours. ‘You are no monster what happened then was an accident, nobody knew, heck nobody expected powers to just show up. It was beyond anyone’s control. It took us by surprise.’

His shoulders relaxed.

‘It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

He gave you a bone crushing hug. ‘Thank you y/n. You don’t know how guilty I was feeling.’ Voice muffled by your shoulder, which is now wet with his tears. ‘I kept thinking about the pain I caused you and I wasn’t allowed to leave my room even when I begged dad to see you and say sorry. y/n’

‘Shhh shhh’ Rubbing his back. ‘It’s alright Ben. What’s important is that we’re all here now. Alive, Safe and sound.’. <<

~

‘I’m sorry Ben…’ You choked out.

‘I’m so sorry Benny…’ Wiping his gravestone of your tears. ‘I—I got you killed. I am a monster. I am THE monster.’ You hiccupped. ‘It is MY job to keep everyone same, to do the reconnaissance, to ensure that everyone in the frontline is safe. It is my power to foresee what could go wrong, to avoid disastrous mistakes. And….and I failed, Ben. I failed. I failed you, dad, The Umbrella Academy.’

‘I miss you Ben so much…’ You lie down with an arm across the lawn. Picturing that is was him you’re hugging, that he is really there.’ more than your annoyingly sweet ass could ever believe. I wish you were here Ben, safe and sound. And if you could hear me Ben, I wish you could forgive me.’

Your eyes slowly fall shut from the emotional guilt you’re feeling but a warm breeze passes through like a warm embrace lightening the heavy burden within.

A soft whisper of reassurance and familiar words brings you to peaceful rest.

‘I forgive you y/n. It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

You stirred from your sleep as you felt yourself lifted from the ground.

‘Careful Diego! You might wake her up.’ You hear Klaus say.

All this trauma, stress and was just too much to handle by minors and as quickly as all your powers came, the same goes for the people who left.

Klaus was the first to leave the academy at age 16, who choose to be self-checked at a rehab centre, stating that that was a way healthier environment then this shithole that was ‘home’.  Who could blame him? Especially when you yourself were planning to leave.

As much as you wanted to get up and leave in the dead of night, you can’t. You don’t have the heart to leave your remaining siblings behind. No, not in this environment. If you were to leave, you wanted them to go with you, to at least know they would have a good life ahead.

Under Reginald’s watchful eye, it would take time to sort the plan out, but it would be worth it.

And you know just the person to talk to.

‘Heyya Diego.’

‘You’re up to something y/n/n and I don’t want to be in any part of it.’ He says without glancing your way. ‘Not after the pineapple incident.’ Diego’s eyes finally landing on you.

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. ‘Oh come on Diegs! That was years ago! It was just a childish prank—’

Diego gives you the finger.

‘-Oi! It is not MY fault what Luther did to you; besides you were supposed to take the EAST stairwell, NOT the West.’ You say matter of factly, shaking your head. ‘Ughh no, we are getting out of topic. Diego, I need your help and you have to promise not to tell anyone-’

‘You’re devising a getaway plan, aren’t you?’

Your brows scrunched together. ‘How’d you—’

‘I’m not blind y/n, I recognised the look of someone who too is planning to escape.’

You raise a brow. ‘Too?’

‘Yes, Too.’ Diego edges closer to you. ‘Now, why don’t we save the trouble of potentially ruining each other’s individual schemes and join forces. Team up. More brainpower. And whatnot. Deal?’ Offering his pinky out.

You ignored the outstretched gesture. ‘What happened to being a lone wolf huh?  I thought that was your thing now?’ You countered.

‘Like a said y/n, the more brainpower, the higher the success.’ He explained. ‘Say, we do manage to get out or perhaps just leave, like Klaus. Where would we go? Where would you? Hmm?’

‘I… I…’ You honestly don’t know.

‘Exactly. That’s why we team up and once we’re out of here. We stick together for a while till we get back on our feet and figure out what we want then go our separate ways.’

You nod, digesting his words. It seems like a solid plan with ample flexibility before deciding on what to do with your life after. But….

‘Okay…..’

‘Okay!’

‘…On one condition. It would not only you and me. We’ll try to get to convince the others to come along too.’

‘What?! y/n no, that’s too many people on the plan-‘

‘More brainpower, higher the success. Your words Diego. Not mine.’ You retaliated. ‘Besides, we can’t just leave everyone here. It’s miserable here. They’re family Diego.’

‘Fine we’ll tell Luther and Allison.’

‘Everyone, Diego.’ You stared him down. ‘And that includes Vanya. No buts.’

‘Ugh.Fine.’ He points a finger towards your face. ‘We tell Luther, Allison AND Vanya. But I swear y/n if anyone of them rats us out or backs out of the plan. We leave them behind. No pity if they choose to stay in this shithole of a house. They are old enough to make their own decision and to face the consequences.’ He leans back to the bed’s headboard. ‘That’s my final offer. Deal?’

‘Deal.’ You interlock your fingers, sealing the pinky promise.

It was easy to get Vanya on board, as she was the child that received the crappiest treatment from dad. Allison was hesitant at first but after convincing her the real world had so much more to give compared to that of the imaginary perfect bubble she created for herself here in the academy with the use of her power, she was on board.

Luther that ever loyal ‘leader’ of the academy would never dare cross dad, the idea wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. Diego had failed to make him see reason and so have you. Luther only came around to be a part of the escape because Allison had agreed to it.

It took almost 6 months. The time has come. You all had saved up enough money to rent a loft apartment downtown and pooled enough to last at least 3 months on your own.

At 1:00 am.  All the remaining 5 Hargreeves are to ready with their backpacks to sneak out in groups, boys and girls, and meet at the rendezvous point, Giddy’s Doughnuts. There, a van would be available for them to drive to the apartment.

The boys were to go first, as to let Diego deactivate the security features of the house while Luther stands guard.

It was only supposed to take 15 minutes tops, it was 20 minutes past now. Something was wrong.

Deciding as a team to check up on the boys, you, Allison and Vanya head down to the foyer.

Upon arrival, you see Luther with his hands covering Diego’s face, Diego who seem limp as a log.

‘Luther what’s going on?’ Allison’s voice rang out beside you.

‘I’m sorry….’ He looks down unto the unconscious Diego in his arms. ‘I just… I just couldn’t.’

‘Number Eight! How could you! How could all of you! Three! Seven!’

The room seemed to turn colder by the sound of the voice. You turn and see Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

‘Dad…’

‘YOU ARE ALL A DISGRACE.’ Reginald spitted.

‘But dad!’ Luther pleaded. ‘I was the one who informed you about their plan!’

‘ENOUGH! NO MORE OF THIS FOOLISHNESS, BACK TO BED---’

‘That’s right NO MORE dad!’ Shouted Allison. She glances at dad then at Luther. A frown etched her face as she commanded. ‘I heard a rumor that you couldn’t move your legs.’

The effect was immediate. The lower half of Reginald and Luther stayed still as a rock while they tried their best to break free. But alas, Allison had the upper hand. ‘I heard a rumor you let us go freely.’ At once, both men calmed down.

And to add insult to injury. Allison focused on Reginald and rumoured ‘And you would leave Diego Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves, Y/n Hargreeves and Allison Hargreeves alone.’

Luther’s betrayal felt like a stab in the back.

Moving on and creating a new life from the ground up for oneself was hard but having your siblings with you had definitely made it easier.

It took a while to get the hang of things, being 4 young adults with nothing. You missed Mom and Pogo, but you knew that they, like Luther would stick with Dad.

Vanya was the first to take up stack, she provided the finance to pay rent and groceries with the salary she would get from her violin performances at the local theatre. Soon Allison would also chip in from the money she received from her acting gigs.

Diego showed interest into joining the police academy while you wanted to get away from the lifestyle as much as possible, opted to move across the country and pursue tertiary education-because that was what normal 18-year-old do right? For once you want to be ordinary and what better way than experience what student life is all about.

Though there is one teensy detail that was hindering your application. You were home-schooled by your robot mom. There weren’t report cards or grades that any university would accept. Even if there were, you wouldn’t want to go back to that dreadful house.

 Both not wanting to lose your newfound passion, you and Diego had an enormous favour to ask.

‘NO not a chance!’ Allison crossed her arms.  ‘It’s unethical!’

‘Yes we know-‘ you replied.

‘But it’s the only way.’ Diego reasoned. ‘It’s not fair for y/n and I to not be able to follow our dreams and to finally FINALLY move on with our lives, Ally. While you and Vanya get to live out yours.’

You nodded along. ‘We ask you just this one thing and we’re out of your hair.’

Allison looked between you two as if to decided whether it would be worth it. ‘Fine, just this once.’  She sighs. ’And this doesn’t get out kapeesh?’ pointing her finger.

‘kapeesh.’

~

‘I’m gonna miss you so much!’ Vanya admitted.

You pulled both your sisters into a hug. ‘I’m miss you gals more!’

Allison wipes her tears away. ‘Don’t forget us okay? Remember we’re only a text away.’

‘Tell Diego that I’m gonna miss kicking his butt when he come back from his officer training, ye?’

~

Over the years you hadn’t lost touch with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve all together physically, but you do video chat every once and a while and you have a general tab on each of your siblings. Vanya is currently the 3rd chair violin at her orchestra, Diego had channelled his inner batman and believe to be a vigilante keeping the streets and public safe.

As for Klaus, Diego had told you that he hasn’t managed to keep off his ~happy place~ and had seen him in and out of nightclubs.

Allison….Well who wouldn’t know about what she’s up to. A-list celebrity with numerous critically acclaimed movies to her name, one half of Hollywood’s hottest couple and amazing role model for mothers. Ahh Claire that sweet angel, who says that you’re her favourite aunt, that smile of hers melts your heart.

The last you’ve seen of Luther is when his journey to the moon has been televised a couple of years ago. There’s been no news since.

 The rattling of the gate brings you back to the present.

‘AH yes, Miss.y/n. He has been expecting you.’

‘Pogo!’ You exclaimed, wrapping him in a hug.

‘So I’m not to late then? Where’s mom?’

‘Grace is with Sir Reginald, my dear.’ Pogo leads you up the stairs.

Looking around, everything is as pristine as usual. ‘I see that nothing’s change’ You noted.

‘Yes, well I was asked to keep it as it always was.’

He opens the door to Reginald’s quarters. There on the bed was dad, looking sickly pale but still alive unlike to what you had seen in your vision.

Beside him wiping away the sweat on his forehead was mom. ‘Oh, my dear y/n I’m glad you could join us.’ She says as if years hadn’t gone by without your presence.

You reach the foot of the bed. ‘Dad…’ you begin.

But Reginald cuts you off. ‘Number Eight. Glad to see that logical and curious side of yours overrides that irrational emotive side.’ His voice weak yet still holds its signature condescending tone. ‘It is your disposition to the voice of reason and mysteries of the unknown that led you here, despite your supposed hatred towards me-‘

‘There’s no grey area, I do hate you.’

He waved his hand to dismiss your interruption.

‘As I was saying, it is of this reason- your control over the impulsiveness that is apparent to all of your siblings who lack control- is why you are my favourite.’

You scoffed.

‘It is true, my dear y/n.’

‘Oh please. You only see me as a “valuable asset”. Remember?’

Reginald nods. ‘I do, but I believe the exact words were “You would do great things Number Eight. To see into the future is a valuable asset to have indeed”. Thus, implying that your ability is the asset not you.’

‘Sure, just rub it in don’t you.’ Rolling your eyes.

‘I hope that you do too remember that also in my own words that you were and still are “the cleverest of the bunch”.’

‘So why am I here, you’re clearly not dead.’ You looked at him again.  You’ve never seen your dad so fragile ever. ‘….yet. So there must be something to do with that. Perhaps find your killer?’

On the bedside table, you took note of the cup of tea and medication. Your brain is in super speed, running through ideas on what could have cause him to be so sickly.

‘It could be your meds…..’ You look up. ‘Mom who else has access to Dad’s medication?’

‘Just us dear, Pogo and I.’

‘Number Eight there is no killer. I am dying because of old age, it is quite normal for-‘

‘NO No but the mortality rate is 350 years for the species of—’

‘Ah!’ Reginald’s face showed of surprise which slowly turned into cunningest. ‘so, you know then’ He chuckled.

‘Yes.’

‘Since when?’ He asked genuinely curious.

‘When we first showed signs of powers, some of your notes were written in a language I did not recognised.’ You recalled. ‘So, I did some digging, it took a while but when I found about the secret safe under this very bed and what it contained. Everything became clearer.’

‘Very good. Y/n. Nobody knew about the safe expect myself.’ He looked over at Pogo. ‘Did you know of it?’

‘No, Sir.’ Pogo admitted. ‘Not until now.’

‘Very well indeed. You knew all this time, yet you didn’t say anything. Why?’

‘Because it didn’t matter.’ You shrugged. ‘The only thing that matter in this household was our powers.’

‘Did the others-‘

‘No, they didn’t know. I hadn’t told a soul. It is not my secret to share.’

‘And soon it will be yours.’

‘What?’

‘Number Eight, it is without a doubt my time here is limited. Perhaps as little as an hour.’

Never had you seen someone talk about their death like this. You shiver at the thought.

‘By the fact that you are here now and had seen a vision of me dead means that the block I had place on you to prevent you peering into events regarding me is failing. Failing as my health is.’

You want to be angry. How dare he supress your power. But you stand still as a rock by his confession. ‘why?’ A soft whisper was all you could muster. ‘why?’

‘Because I had to keep my real identity a secret. To prevent you from exposing me.’ He coughed. ‘But turns out, you hadn’t need to use your powers to know that, as what you’ve told me.’ He looked at you with watering eyes. ‘You found that all on your own, yet you did not disclose anything.’ He reached out for your hand to which you accept. ‘For which I am delighted that at least I can say that I have one child, a daughter to be proud of.’

A daughter to be proud of.

You would like to think that you are strong and independent. And those are true. But that small child that all that wanted was to experience a parent’s love and affection. That emotional support of that small child which you thought you had successfully tucked away came clawing its way back to the surface.

‘y/n’ You had almost missed it, wiping away your tears, you leaned closer.

‘Listen carefully….’ Your dad’s chest was barely moving. It was a struggle for him to get the following words out. ‘The end is near, get the others ……and save…..the…..tttiiiimmm’

You never head what came next. Sir Reginald Hargreeves is dead.

Under the setting sun, Reginald looked at peace.

~

A half moon shines brightly above the house. It had been 3 days and 7 Hours since it happened.

Exhaustion is starting to catch up with you but there is still so much to do.

News channels had broadcasted the breaking news of your father’s death.

You had personally called your siblings to deliver the news, they are to arrive tomorrow for the funeral at noon.  

Luther who had been expecting to relay dad his daily report status on the space radio, cussed at you in anger-those were the first words you heard in 12 years- calmed down and said that he will be there in 3 days, in time for the funeral.

‘Sweetie, I brought you some tea.’

‘Thanks mom.’ You take a sip. ‘Hey mom did you think you’re gonna be alright now that you know…. That dad is gone?’

She runs her fingers to your hair. ‘I’m gonna be fine dear, I am stronger than you know.’

You smile at her. You just can’t help but to think what’s gonna happen to her now that your dad is gone. Pushing that thought away-like she said, I am stronger than you know.

 ‘Now, why don’t we get you to bed.’ She cuts you off before you can say a word. ‘Uh uh. You have done so much already. You need rest especially with the funeral in 9 hours. Pogo and I can handle the remaining task.’

‘Thanks again mom.’

She tucks you into bed. ‘Good night y/n/n. Sweet Dreams.’ She kisses the top of your head. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too mom.’ As she leaves your room, you realised that you didn’t want to be alone. ‘Mom…’ You called out, almost childlike.

‘Yes dear.’ Grace makes her way back in.

‘Well you stay with me? Sing to me until I fall asleep?’

‘Ofcourse dear.’ She smiles, pulling up a chair beside your bed.

The lull of your mother’s voice sends you to sleep with the memories of the childhood before power. When everything was simple. When there was love in this household.

~

You awoke to sounds of screams and flashes of blue light. You hurry to your window, it shows the courtyard, a ball of blue chaos small black figures.

You pull on your jacket and ran downstairs, the clock in the foyer shows 11:37am. Crap you overslept! But that means…..that the figures you saw were your siblings. There are early….that’s new.

You arrived in the courtyard just as you see Klaus throws a fire extinguisher at the blue light.

‘What are you doing?!’ Shouted Luther.

‘What is that gonna do?’ Allison questioned.

‘I don’t know!!’ Klaus turned around ‘Do you have a better idea?—Oh hey y/n! Nice to see you!’ He ran over and gave you a tight hug. ‘What a family reunion ehh?’

Before you could reply, the ball of blue gave out a crackle of electricity.

‘Everyone get behind me!’ Luther pushes in front of everyone.

‘Yeah! Get behind us.’ Diego chimed in, pushing Vanya closer to you.

Vanya ignores Diego, trying to get a better look herself. ‘It looks like something is coming through!’

The ball of light exploded, the sudden burst of energy was blinding that you had to cover your eyes.

Then nothing, total darkness.

THUD. You heard Vanya scream.

‘Argh!’

The blue chaos had expelled something….someone.

Luther was the first to speak. ‘Who’s there?’

‘Show yourself!’ said Diego.

As a collective group, you walked towards the mystery person.

Your eyes go wide with shock. No it can’t be, it’s impossible. You must be seeing things.

‘Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?’ wondered Klaus.

Klaus looked around and saw that everyone showed that same face of disbelief. Pleased to know that it wasn’t the drugs, he snickered. ‘Now THIS! THIS IS WHAT I CALL A FAMILY REUNION.’

Little Five who didn’t seem to have aged a day since you last saw him,

It’s been years but seeing him looking like he did back when you last saw him, you recall the last words he had shouted at you.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

Five looks down at himself drowned in tattered oversize clothes, wining. ‘SHIT!’

Something is wrong, something is very wrong and you know it.

No way was this all a coincidence for your father to warn you about some impending doom and have Five to reappear 17 years later. It must be related somehow…What’s next you thought……For Ben to come back to life too?

END OF PART 2

READ: [PART 1]  [PART 3]  [PART 4]

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[meetthemoosemonster]

Summary:

AU where Ranboo goes to Sam and asks him to Lock him up in the prison to stop himself from doing what ever hes doing when hes sleep walking. AKA Ranboo tries to make a self destructive decision, and Sam is a Responsible Adult, and offers him support. Also, Sam has four arms because I think thats perfect for his character, fight me.

Note: If any of the creators mentioned in this state that they are uncomfortable with this fic, or the topics in this fic being written about them, I will take it down as soon as I know. Also, this is based off the characters, and not the actual content creators.

CW: Panic attacks Mild injury Mentions of prison Manipulation(but just c!Dream being himself) If I missed one please tell me so I can fix it!

Enjoy the fic!

Fic under cut for anyone who doesn't want to leave tumblr.

And remember, reblogs fuel the writing braincell!

The ding of someone joining a voice call echoed in Ranboos ears

"s- Sam?" The enderboys hand shook over the button that summoned the Warden to the entrance of Pandora's Vault. He was hyper aware of the buzzing purple particles that surrounded his lanky form, and the uncontrollable vwoops and crackles that came from his mouth.

"Ranboo? I told you you weren't allowed to visit the prison anymore. You need to leave. Now." Sam's voice was hard, the voice of a Warden. Ranboo felt a year streak down his face as he choked back a sob. For once his mind was silent.

"I-" Ranboo took a shaky breath. "I don't want to visit, Sam."

"Then why are you here?" Concern glinted through Sam's warden persona, his voice softening ever so slightly. "I know you said you couldn't tell me what's up with you, but I can help Ranboo. It's ok if you need help." Another vwoop mixed with a sob escaped Ranboos throat, and he sunk to the ground in front of the nether portal. 

"I- I-" Ranboo couldn't continue, and just squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to stop the tears that boiled his skin as they ran down his face.

"Ok, I'm coming out ok? I'll be there in a second." The boy curled up on the blackstone floor didn't say anything Sam could decipher, but the four armed man vaguely recognized that Ranboo had mumbled something in void. The sound of the nether portal geared up, and Sam walked out of the purple swirls to see the enderman hybrid curled up on the floor vibrating, his jaw slightly unhinged.

"Ranboo? Ranboo, what happened? Why are you here?" The Warden voice was gone now, and Sam could only stare down at the black and white form of a shaking child, concern furrowing his brow. 

Ranboo looked up, a scared, no, terrified look etched in his face. Ranboo tried to wipe his tears away, flinching at the pain. 

"I-" Ranboo could barely stay sitting up with how hard his body was violently shaking. "I ne- eed to y- you to l- lo- lock me up- p, p- please." More tears spilled out of his eyes, and Sam immediately dropped to the ground at those shaky words. Sam carefully put 2 of his arms behind the shaking figure next to him, trying to offer support. Ranboo flinched at first, not comprehending what Sam was doing. But then he fell back into the arms, letting them hold him up.

"Why would I lock you up? What ever happened with the books you signed doesn't warrant being put in the prison?" Ranboo tensed at the words, but Sam couldn't tell if it was the mention of the books, or the prison that caused Ranboos reaction. "Ranboo, seriously, what's wrong? I promise I won't be upset if something happened." Ranboo just shook his head repeatedly, and pulled his knees closer to his chest. 

"You k- know how I have a r- really bad me- memo- memory?" Sam slowly nodded, and Ranboo continued. "Well, I've been hav- having these l- long periods of t- time that I don't remember anything, and and and," Ranboo paused, and took a deep breath. "And my tools have been used, and things are missing, and I don't have anything wr- written down in my memory book." Ranboo looked cautiously at Sam, how nodded gently as if to say 'go on'. Ranboo swallowed. 

"A-and I'm, I- I think I've been helping D- Dr- Dream when I'm like that…'' More choked sobs mixed with enderman sounds echoed on the walls, and the vibrating particles buzzed like angry bees in Sam's ears. He could hear his heart beating louder in his chest at Ranboos fearful confession. But Sam pushed down the shock, and tried to comfortingly shush the boy. 

"Shhh, Shhhh, it's gonna be ok Ranboo. You obviously didn't want to h-"

"I blew up the community house Sam." Ranboos' voice sounded resigned now, his body and brain exhausted from the panic that still coursed through the kid's body. Sam didn't know what to say, he looked stunned. Sam had been on the server for a long time, longer than most of the people who now inhabited this world. He had memories of the community house, before all the wars, all the chaos and pain and violence that plagued the Dream SMP. When he'd seen it had been blown up, he had to mourn for a bit, mourn the symbol of a more peaceful past.

"And Dream gave me one of Tommy's disks. At- At least that's what Dream told me. Or his voice. I- I don't know what's real anymore anyway." Ranboo said the last sentence in Void, too tired to even notice that he was slipping into his native tongue. Sam retracted his arms, still shocked. Ranboo noticed the loss of support and just laid his head on his knees and closed his eyes, not really caring what happened next.

"Ranboo…" Sam trailed off and they just sat in a tense silence. After a couple seconds Sam shook his head to clear it. "Ranboo, what do you mean Dream's voice?"

"I hear his voice in my head s-sometimes. He usually tells me what I did, where I hid evidence, what I'm doing wr- wrong." Ranboos body was still tense, but he was eerily still and quiet in contrast to how he was a few minutes ago. Then Sam felt Ranboos red and green gaze meet his, urgency in his eyes." Sam, you need to lock me up, I can't be allowed to do anymore harm. I'm too dangerous. Please Sam, please, you have to, it's the only way. I can't stop it on my own, I don't know how." Ranboo was crying again, his face tightening in pain. "...please…" Ranboos' voice cracked, and he hung his head again, not even reacting when Sam carefully wrapped all 4 of his arms protectively around the half enderman.

"I'm not gonna put you in the prison, Ranboo. You're a kid." Sam's voice was tight with anger at Dream, at the server that had told these children that it was somehow their fault, and that their slip ups were worse than all the adults' slip ups.

"But I can't be trusted, I'm going to hurt someone, I can't hurt anyone." Ranboo leaned against Sam anyway, yearning for comfort, even if he thought it was gonna the last time he'd get it.

"There are other ways to make sure you don't do something bad when you black out. We'll figure it out, but I'm not letting you in that prison. You're just a kid." Sam reached around Ranboo and got out his comms. "Is there anyone I can ask to watch you to make sure you don't run off until we figure out a better system? If not I can stay with you for a bit." He looked down at Ranboos split colored hair, the boy curled up in his embrace.

"I don't know, I- I don't want to bother anyone." 

"Ok. But you're not bothering anyone, you're asking for help. How about this, you're staying with Techno and Phil in the snow biome right now, right?" Ranboo nodded hesitantly. "I'm going to message them telling them that you're with me, and you might need someone to watch over you for a couple days. We'll figure it out from there, ok?" Ranboo stirred slightly. a soft him of agreement came from the boy, and Sam smiled slightly as he typed out the message to Technoblade and Philza. "You're going to be ok, I'm gonna to help you. You're safe now." Slowly Ranboo dozed off in Sam's arms. After a bit Techno showed up at the prison, looking concerned, even though he still stood with the confidence of a man who could blow up nations without a second thought. The Blades face softened when he saw Ranboo sleeping peacefully in Sam's arms. Sam looked up and smiled.

"Good, you're here, my arms were going numb." Sam joked quietly, then he carefully stood up softly shook the enderboys shoulder to wake him up. Ranboo blinked as he tried to wake up, but he was still exhausted and sleepy. 

"Sam? What's happening?" Sam smiled.

"Technos here to take you home, is that ok? Ranboo nodded, and stumbled over to Techno, and leaned his tall frame against the pigmans slightly shorter one. 

"Keep an eye on him, ok? Things just got more complicated, and he doesn't deserve to be put through anymore then he already has." Sam looked worriedly at Ranboo, who was already falling asleep on Technos shoulder.

"Uhh, ok?" Techno looked confused, but carefully lead Ranboo away from the prison to the nether portal that's would take them home. Sam watched them go, then turned around and re-entered the prison, his face hardening as he made his way to the center of the prison. He needed to have another chat with Dream.

[boxoftheskyking]

Something Good, Part Twenty. The End.

I don’t know how cultivation works and I’m not about to learn now. There’s some blood here.

I can’t believe it’s done. Thank you everyone who has been reading, and everyone who’s left beautiful comments here, on AO3, in tags, yelled out a window. I’ve never finished a piece this long or in this way, and I would not have gotten further than 2 chapters without yous guys

Let’s get to it.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen

--

On the last morning of peace, Lan Wangji wakes up in Wei Wuxian’s arms. He smiles before opening his eyes, small and instinctive, and Wei Wuxian can’t not kiss him for it.

“Did you sleep?” Lan Wangji’s voice is rough, soft as raw cotton.

“No.”

“Hmm.” He presses his face back into Wei Wuxian’s chest.

“What are you thinking?”

“It’s foolish,” he mutters against his collarbone.

“Tell me.”

“I am afraid.”

Wei Wuxian holds him tighter. “That’s not foolish.”

“I keep waiting for someone to come and fix everything. Wen Ruohan shouldn’t be allowed to do what he is doing. I want someone bigger than him to come put him in his place. I feel young and stupid and weak and I want someone else to be in charge.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s foolish.”

Wei Wuxian kisses his hair. “If we get all the sects together. Maybe all the sects and the citizens as well, we’ll be bigger than the Wens.”

Lan Wangji looks up at him. “What if we’re not?”

“I don’t know.” Wei Wuxian runs his thumb lightly under Lan Wangji’s eye, over his cheekbone, over his ear. “I don’t know, Lan Zhan.”

The Wens come as the children are changing into their play clothes after lunch. Wei Wuxian is waiting at the door when the older disciples come running to their room, eyes wide and confused. Lan Xichen follows.

“The Wens are here.”

“Fuck!”

“They’re commanding the disciples to leave today, now; they’ve got at least thirty armed men. We can’t fight and win.”

“Fuck, fuck, what do we do?”

Three Wen soldiers come up behind the running teenagers. “Hurry up! You should be packed already. Didn’t the Sect Leader tell you you’re going for indoctrination?”

Lan Wangji joins them, jaw so tight it looks like his bones are about to crack.

“Brother. What do we—”

“I can get the little ones out,” Wei Wuxian whispers, brain spinning faster and faster like a wheel heading down a hill. “I don’t know about the older kids.”

“We’ll have no choice; we have to send them.” Lan Xichen watches the flurry of activity with such profound regret that Wei Wuxian grabs his arm and turns him away from the soldiers. 

“They’ll be all right. They’ll be hostages, right? Technically you still have an alliance, so there’s no reason to harm them.”

“We can’t just—” Lan Wangji cuts off as a little hand tugs on Wei Wuxian’s shirt.

“Wei-qianbei, what’s happening?” Lan Feifei asks, big round eyes tracking everything.

“Shhh, here, come back inside. Lan Zhan, I’ll get them to the back hill, okay? Just meet us there, with food if you can.”

Lan Wangji grabs his wrist, a question on his face, but he shakes him off and goes back inside. With luck, the teenagers will take a bit of time getting organized, but knowing the Lans it won’t be much.

“Disciples!” he says in a stage whisper, waving them all over. “Come here, we’re going to play a game.”

“A game?” Lan Ting asks, doubtfully.

“Yes, yes, gather around everyone. Now we have some visitors, and they want us all to go on a trip. So everyone will grab your bag and pack up everything you can. Clothes, blankets, whatever you have. Wen Ning, Lan Bin, Yao Hualing, help the little ones.”

“How is that a game?” Hualing asks.

“I’m getting to that part. What I want you all to do while you pack is to pretend to be the most badly behaved children in the world. I want you to whine and cry and yell and stamp your feet. Make a mess. When I ask you to do something, I want you to say that all you want is to see your bunnies. Can you do that?”

“I still don’t see how this is a game.”

“It’s a trick. We’re playing a trick on the visitors.”

“But how is it—”

“Then when I say the word, you’ll be your wonderful obedient selves again. It will be so funny! They’ll be so surprised.”

“That’s funny?” Lan Bin says, wrinkling his nose.

“Yes, yes!” Wei Wuxian tries not to seem desperate. “They’re very strange men, very strange sense of humor. Trust me.”

“Isn’t that lying?” Su Meiling asks. “Lying is forbidden.”

“Not lying, no, it’s a joke, just a joke. Hanguang Jun says it’s fine, okay? Trust me. When I give the signal, start crying, okay?”

The children look around at each other, still not convinced, but Wen Ning says, “Okay, Wei-qianbei,” and that seems to be good enough for them.

“Okay, go!”

It’s silent for a long moment. Then Ouyang Zizhen gives a tentative, “No, I don’t want to?”

“Good, good, louder,” Wei Wuxian whispers.

“No!” Su Ming yells, stamping her feet. “I want my bunnies!”

“Yes, the bunnies!”

“I won’t go! No! No! No!”

“Beautiful, excellent! More!” Wei Wuxian lets the racket build, encouraging them, before messing up his hair and running to the door.

“Ah, Zewu Jun!” he says, loud enough for the soldier to notice. “These children are so willful! I can’t get them to pack their things.”

One of the soldiers comes over. “What’s the problem?”

“No, no, no, NO!” the kids yell from inside, and someone throws something against the wall.

Yes, perfect! He thinks.

“Oh, sir, I’m so sorry. These children, they won’t travel without their bunnies.”

“That’s ridiculous,” the man sniffs. “Just get them packed.”

“I mean, I’m trying, sir. You’re welcome to try.”

The soldier grunts impatiently and pushes past him to the door. He opens it to utter chaos—someone has flipped their mattress, half of the kids are lying on the floor and wailing, and Lan Jingyi has no clothes on. I guess this is what’s hiding behind three thousand rules. Behind the soldier’s back, Wei Wuxian gives an encouraging smile and conducts them louder and louder. The soldier turns and he schools his expression back to overwhelmed as he runs over to wrangle Jingyi into his pants.

“What is wrong with these children?” the soldier demands.

“It’s their bunnies, sir, they never travel without them. They’ve got cages and everything.”

“Well, go get the damn bunnies then.”

“You know, I would,” he says, shoving a shirt over Jingyi’s screaming head. “But I can’t tell them apart. These children, they’re very particular. You know some bunnies are more energetic than others, some have favorite foods, or special—”

“Shut up, fool, just take the children and get them. I won’t listen to whining all the way to Qishan.”

“Right away, sir!”

Wei Wuxian shuts the door in his face and waves the children over. “Good job everyone! We almost have them fooled. Bags all packed? Excellent. Now we’re going to go to the back hill, so just keep crying and yelling until we get there. Okay? Good work.”

He leads them out, wailing and sobbing, and the older disciples freeze, staring at them.

“Oh no!” Wei Wuxian yells over the racket. “Such willful children! Shame on you all! We’ll be right back, sir!”

They pass the infirmary, where Wen Qing is waiting in the doorway.

“What the fuck, Wei Ying?” she hisses at him.

“Ah, Lady Wen!” he yells. “The most gifted rabbit catcher in Gusu! Please come, help us!”

She glares at him, but then sees the soldiers behind him and her face goes carefully blank. She follows.

When they reach the back hill, he gestures them all quiet and close.

“Excellent work, everyone! A-Ning, I need you to keep an eye on the path, let me know if someone is coming.”

“That was fun, Wei-qianbei!” Jingyi shouts. “I want to misbehave all the time!”

“Yes, you’re a prodigy, but it’s time to be quiet now. We’re going to go on an adventure, okay?”

“With the soldiers?” Lan Yixian asks.

“No, we’re going somewhere else. Okay? But we need to be quiet and fast.”

“Wei Ying,” Wen Qing murmurs. “You’d better have a plan. There’s no way we can outrun them through the forest on foot.”

“I need your knife.” He holds out his hand. She looks doubtful, but gives it to him. He cuts a long strip from the bottom of his shirt, leaving his stomach bare.

“Wei-qianbei, your belly!” Zizhen yells, pointing at the scar.

“Shh, Zizhen, it’s okay.” He spreads the cloth on the ground and makes a deep cut in his finger, starting to write.

“It’s a talisman?” Sizhui asks, leaning over his shoulder.

“Yes, A-Yuan, but it’s very complicated, so please be quiet.”

“Wei Ying,” Wen Qing says, one hand on his back. “I can’t power this kind of—”

“It’s not for you, it’s for me.”

“You’re not strong enough.”

“I have Chenqing. It’ll help.”

“It’s too risky.”

“Wen Qing, unless you have a better plan right now, let me work. I need you to go through first, make sure they land okay. Will you do that?”

She’s quiet for a long time while he writes. “Don’t make me watch you die,” she finally whispers.

“If I do, you won’t be here to see it.”

He finishes, rises, and holds the talisman in his hands, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He’s been shutting off the pull towards resentful energy for so long, it takes a moment to find it again, to open himself up to it. Chenqing isn’t a source of energy, but it’s a good conductor, so once he attunes himself to it the rush begins. It’s harder to feel the pit inside of him—he’s been too happy, too content, but if he pushes it’s there. He thinks about Wen Zhuliu, Wen Ruohan. He imagines Jiang Cheng’s face, Jiang Yanli’s, feels the pain of missing them. He sees the frightened eyes of the older disciples being marched away from home, Lan Xichen’s clenched fist, Lan Wangji’s rough voice saying I am afraid. He feels Wen Qing’s solid hand at his back. He opens his eyes and sees the children gathered around him, thinks Mine, mine, mine.

He flings the talisman out in front of him with a burst of flame, and it explodes into a swirling black portal a few feet off the ground.

“Go. Wen Qing. Go,” he grits out, already feeling his reserves of energy running thin.

Wen Qing takes a breath, nods once, then runs and leaps through the opening.

“Lady Wen!” Lan Bin cries. “Where did she go?”

“We’re all going,” Wei Wuxian says, fighting to get the words out and hold the opening. “Help the little ones.”

He has a vague idea of where the portal might lead, an open field in another part of Gusu, but he’s trusting Wen Qing to make a plan from there. He may have sent her off the side of a cliff or in the middle of a lake, but he has to believe it will work. It has to work.

Lan Bin looks doubtful. 

“Please,” is all Wei Wuxian can say. The portal shimmers for a moment, losing stability, and Wei Wuxian shuts his eyes to focus again. He feels his feet root into the soil and deeper, into the mountain, the stone, veins of power eons old, power that sees all of human life come and go like a single drop of rain against a roof tile. Resentment grown centuries before there was a word for it, before there was reason, a time before logic. 

It hurts. He’d forgotten how much it hurts. 

When he opens his eyes again, Lan Bin is passing Jingyi through the opening.

“Wei-qianbei, I’m scared,” Yao Hualing says.

“I know. Me too. Just.” He groans through another burst of energy. “Get them through.”

Something rips inside him, a sail ripped from the mast in the middle of a hurricane, and resentful energy floods him. He feels it in the spaces between his heart and lungs, the invisible gaps between each drop of blood, his pores yawning open like canyons. He can’t see, can’t hear over the whispering, roaring, wailing that’s tearing through him. Hold on, just hold on he repeats in his mind, and the darkness answers give, give, give. 

“Wei-qianbei!” Wen Ning cries, running from the road.

He forces himself to see, in flashes like a series of paintings. The last child’s foot disappearing through the portal. Wen Ning, appearing at his side. Lan Wangji coming down the path, followed by two soldiers. Sizhui, running for his father with arms outstretched. 

“A-Yuan!” Wei Wuxian screams, but it’s too late. A soldier grabs him around the middle and holds him, sword unsheathed and held to his wailing throat.

“No!” Lan Wangji shouts, but as he takes a step closer, the soldier tightens his hold.

“Baba!”

“What do I do, what do I do?” Wen Ning gasps, crying, hands clenching.

“Go. Through.” Wei Wuxian manages.

“I can’t, I have to—”

“A-Ning. Go. Now.”

With a last look over his shoulder, Wen Ning dives through the portal. Wei Wuxian plants his feet and shifts his focus, transferring the current of power into his left hand, holding the portal open. 

“Let him go,” he growls.

“Close the portal now, or I swear I will kill him.”

“Last chance.”

The soldier nicks Sizhui’s neck and his screaming cuts off with a tiny gasp that hits Wei Wuxian like a thunderclap. His vision goes red, dark at the edges, and his mind snaps.

MINE roars the darkness, and for once it’s in unison with the rest of him.

He lashes out his right hand and a cord of darkness, thin and strong as a whip, shoots out from his palm, curls around the soldier’s arm, and slices through. The man screams and tumbles backward, sword and arm together falling to the ground, blood spurting out and soaking Sizhui’s blue shirt to black. Sizhui shuts his eyes and freezes where he stands, little hands clenched at his sides.

The second soldier lunges forward, but Wei Wuxian flicks the whip back the other direction and catches him across the face, slicing open his cheek until half of his jaw and teeth are exposed.

“This is mine,” he says—it feels like nothing, just like breathing, but it echoes through the forest, shaking the trees and  frightening the rabbits to run around them like a river current, screaming like ghosts. “You dare touch what is mine.”

The soldier stumbles upright and holds his face, half raising his sword, and Wei Wuxian pulls the whip back into the air, hovering in front of him. The blood soaking into the ground rushes up through him, the soldier’s pain. Sizhui’s terror hurtles through him, making him stronger. He feels hot blood against his neck, in his hair, as clearly as if he were in the boy’s place.

“Give me a reason. I dare you. I beg you. Give me a reason.”

Before the soldier can move, the tip of Bichen bursts through the center of his chest. Lan Wangji shoves him off the blade to flop onto the ground. Wei Wuxian watches his life wink out like a lamp and drinks it in, spinning it into darkness. Lan Wangji doesn’t wait to sheathe the sword, just grabs Sizhui up with his free arm.

“Wei Ying,” he says urgently, which shakes Wei Wuxian back to the moment. The fear, the death, it all gives him a burst of energy, but he can feel the end of it coming near, like stitching a torn cloth back together with the last few inches of thread. Hold, just hold, please just be enough to hold. He pulls the whip back into himself, dissolving harmlessly into smoke, and throws his right hand back to the portal.

“Go.” It’s still not his voice. He tries to get his voice back. “Lan Zhan, please, hurry.”

“Wangji!” Lan Xichen runs down the path behind them, taking in everything, the portal, the bodies, the bloody sword. “Wei Ying, your face—”

“Go!” Sweat is rolling down his cheeks, or maybe tears, or blood, or maybe all three. Lan Wangji looks back at his brother for a long moment, then steps through the portal.

“Zewu Jun, hurry, jump through.”

“No, I— Wei Ying, I can’t, the soldiers. They’ll burn it all down, they’ll kill everyone.”

Wei Wuxian groans and the portal starts to shrink.

“We’ll find you. We’ll go—”

“Go to Yunmeng.” Lan Xichen grabs Wei Wuxian’s wrist and forces a current of clean energy through him. He’s nothing but a conduit, hollow, but it holds the portal in place, blue light weaving in between tendrils of black smoke. “The rebuild has begun. Jin soldiers are there for defense. Lanling is preparing for war, and they will protect you. Stay off the roads.”

“You’ll meet us there? The older children—”

“I’ll look after them. I’ll make some excuse for you—”

“Tell everyone I took them. Demon Wei Ying. Tell them I tricked you, all of you, I stole them away. I’m an unknown, I’m on no one’s side. Say I killed them. The worst things you can think of, tell them, they’ll believe you.”

Lan Xichen nods once, face going tight with pain. “We’ll clear your name, after—”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll hold the portal. You go.”

Wei Wuxian takes a halting step towards it, legs heavy as through iron chains were wrapped around them.

“Wait,” Lan Xichen says. “I”ll need— It needs to look like we fought. If I use my own sword—”

Wei Wuxian nods. “I’m sorry.” He lashes out—the whip is smaller this time, weaker, but it cuts up the side of Lan Xichen’s face and down across his shoulder, red blooming on his white robes. He winces, but his energy doesn’t falter. Shouts ring out through the forest, the sound of dozens of men crashing towards them through the trees.

“Take care of them,” Lan Xichen pleads.

“They’re mine.”

Wei Wuxian takes a step and throws himself at the portal, just as it begins to close. He hears Lan Xichen shout “Wei Wuxian!” behind him, then feels himself pulled in all directions, torn into pieces and slammed back together. His lungs are flattened, his stomach is missing, his eyes are backwards, his hands are multiplying like a flock of crows around him, choking—

And then, in an instant, it’s over. He hits the ground and lays flat on his back, gasping.

“Wei-qianbei!”

“Wei Ying!”

“Wei-qianbei!”

“Wei-qianbei!”

He’s surrounded by a flickering, moving mass that half blocks out the sunlight. He can’t see shapes, can’t see colors. Little hands on his face, his body, pulling at his clothes.

“I—” his mouth is dry, his tongue thick and heavy. “I—”

“Back, back, step back.” He knows this voice, these hands on his forehead. They feel his neck, his stomach.

“W— W— Wen—”

“Shh, shh, don’t talk.”

“ ‘vryone? Ev— ‘ryone?”

“Yes, yes, shh.”

“Where?”

“Other side of the mountain. Miles away.”

He relaxes into her hold. Time flickers, disappears, and reforms around him. He sits up, coughs, spits blood onto the ground.

The figures around him are still blurry, but he recognizes them. The children. Wen Qing and Wen Ning at his sides, propping him up. Lan Wangji is standing, staring at him, holding Sizhui. Wei Wuxian squints. Sizhui’s blue shirt is gone and he’s wrapped in red. Wen Qing’s outer robe, he realizes. His hair is soaked, drying stiff against his back, and there’s blood smeared across his cheek. His eyes are still closed and Wei Wuxian can see him shivering in Lan Wangji’s arms.

“A-Yuan,” he breathes, reaching out one hand.

“Wei-qianbei,” it’s little Lan Feifei. She reaches out and touches his cheek with one tentative finger. “Your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“They’re not . . . right.”

“Oh.” He touches his face as well, as if he could feel the difference. “What do they look like?”

“They’re red. And your face, it’s so white. There’s black, here.” She traces uneven lines up his neck, across his temples, his cheeks.

“Is it scary, Feifei?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, sweet one. You’re being very brave. You’re all so—” he’s suddenly finding it hard to talk, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “So brave.”

“We need to move,” Lan Wangji says, not unkindly. “It’s too open here.”

Wei Wuxian struggles upright, a dozen little hands reaching out to hold him. They look wary, staring at his face, but they aren’t scared to touch him. He loves them so much he’s about to dissolve in it. Mine rumbles through him, not violent this time, but low and satisfied like a purr.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, and reaches out for his hand.

Sizhui suddenly turns his face and opens his eyes, staring over at Wei Wuxian. His face is blank, and Wei Wuxian wishes he had a scarf, a mask, something to hide his appearance.

“A-Yuan,” he starts, “I’m so—”

But then Sizhui reaches out and grabs his shirt, pulling hard enough to make him stumble. He crashes into father and son and wraps his arms around both while Sizhui hides his face in his neck.

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian breathes, sweeping a hand over his hair and kissing the side of his face over and over. “I’m so sorry. You’re okay. It’s all okay now.”

It isn’t. It’s not okay now. But for a brief moment, as Lan Wangji holds all of them upright, they can breathe.

“We have a lot of traveling to do,” Wen Qing says. “It’s going to be difficult, and we’re going to have to be very sneaky. Can we do that?”

“Yes, Lady Wen,” a few children chorus.

“Where are we going?” asks Ouyang Zizhen.

“It’s a surprise,” Wei Wuxian answers at the same time Lan Wangji says, “It’s a secret.”

“But where—”

“How would you like to see your Wei-qianbei’s family?” Wei Wuxian says, meeting Wen Qing’s eyes. She smiles slightly and nods. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Your family?” Jingyi pipes up. “I want to go!”

“Good. Then we will. It’ll be a surprise for everyone.”

“What about my big brother?” Lan Hua asks.

“Yeah, and my cousin?” 

“My brother too!”

Wei Wuxian looks at Lan Wangji, unsure.

“They will join us later,” Lan Wangji announces, the voice that allows for no doubts and no arguments. “We have to go our own way for now, but we’ll see them again soon. For now, we need to stay together and take care of each other. We are a family, aren’t we?”

“Yes, Hanguang Jun.”

“Yes, Baba,” Sizhui whispers. Wei Wuxian kisses his cheek again.

“Let’s get moving,” Wen Qing says. “At least down to the tree line, then we can make a plan. We should be able to go a few miles before dark.”

“If we find a graveyard for the night, I can—” he stops himself, looking at the children. ”We can be safe in a graveyard.”

“Don’t overdo it,” Wen Qing warns.

“I never overdo it. Come on, everyone. Gather your things.”

He presses his forehead into Lan Wangji’s shoulder for a last moment, then lets him go and bends to pick up Jingyi. The weight is too much for him, and he ends up back on his knees in the dirt.

“I’ve got him.” Wen Ning comes up and hauls Jingyi up on his hip. “It’s okay, Wei-qianbei, let me help.”

Wen Qing gets him upright again and they move off through the grass towards the trees. 

They will walk for as long as the children can stand it tonight, and Wei Wuxian will call corpse puppets to watch over them through the night. He can see it all in front of him. It’s like reading a score and hearing the song come together in his mind. There will be rivers to cross, mountains to climb, caves and ditches to hide in night after night. They will be frightened and exhausted and starving. But they will arrive in Yunmeng, at Lotus Pier. He will row them all across the lake, and they will lean out of the boat to pluck lotus blossoms. Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli will meet them at the gate, and Wei Wuxian will fall into their arms. Jiang Cheng will protest, will yell, but he’ll catch him. And Yanli will take his ruined face in her cool hands and tell him that he’s home. 

He tightens his arm around Wen Qing’s shoulders and gets an answering squeeze around the waist. As if he can hear their thoughts, Lan Wangji turns back and catches his eye. Wei Wuxian looks at him, singing the song in his mind, showing him the way. Lan Wangji nods, and Wei Wuxian smiles.

The End.

[im-not-looking-for-forgiveness]

Hi! Can I request a story when a reader works for Shelby Company Limited and takes care of her late brother’s baby (newborn) and her boss - Thomas Shelby finds out about it one day, you choose how to end it! Maybe we would see a soft Tommy? :) Thanks in advance!!! Love your writing!!! Take care

Newborn - Thomas Shelby x Reader

Taglist: @sweetiekokkiri @haphazardhufflepuff @tarafaithe @mrsstevenbuchananstark @imagine-richards @hxnky-cat @tranquility-or-chaos @captivatedbycillianmurphy

*****

"Shhh, little one, please. You were doing so well." you cooed to your adopted son, Daniel, as he began to cry.

"Want me to take him?" Lizzie offered, not yet looking up from her own pile of work at the other end of the table.

You sighed, "Maybe? I don't know. I'm not used to him yet, so I don't know what he wants."

"I thought he was yours?" she asked gently, setting her pen down.

"He was my brother's boy. Him and his wife left the baby with me for a night while they went on a date, and they never came back." you answered, grief twisting it's sharp edges further into your heart.

"They just left him with you?" Lizzie demanded.

"No! No, not like that. They were killed in a car crash." you explained, trying to keep the pain from saturating your tone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Well, what's his name?" she wondered, coming over to you to see the child still making a fuss in your arms.

"Daniel." you answered, letting her take him. He immediately began to settle down, and you let out a relieved laugh.

"Well, little Danny boy, what are you crying for?" she said to the baby, gently swaying.

Just then, the exact thing you were dreading happened. Thomas Shelby entered the room.

Lizzie gently gave back the now-sleeping baby, and sat back down. You couldn't blame her for wanting to stay out of the way.

"Who's this?" he wondered, staring at Daniel.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Shelby. I've just got custody of him and I've had no time to find a nanny." you apologized, trying to keep your voice down.

"Who is he?" Tommy repeated, gesturing for you to follow him to his office.

"H-His name is Daniel, sir." you got out, terrified of what his office implied. Thoughts of trying to find another job flooded your brain, followed by an overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

"Is he yours?" he wondered, lighting a cigarette.

"He is now, sir. He was my brother's child." you repeated what you told Lizzie, hesitantly sitting down in the chair across from his desk.

Tommy asked, "So you can drink then?"

"What?"

"You can drink? Because you're not feeding him?" he explained a bit more.

"Oh! Well, yes, I suppose."

"Here." your boss poured you a glass of gin and placed it on the table in front of you.

"Thank you." you nodded, taking a very small sip from the glass. It was delicious, but so was everything Tommy was involved with.

"How is it?" he wondered, before sitting down across from you.

You answered hesitantly, "It's really nice. Best drink I've had in a long time, actually."

"Good, good." he nodded, before drawing on the cigarette between his fingers.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Shelby, sir, but aren't you going to fire me?" you questioned, wondering why he was dragging it out so long.

"No, Y/N, I'm not."

"But why? Surely you wouldn't want me to bring my child to work?"

He said simply, "That boy is an orphan. You chose to adopt him. I don't see how that's a reason for letting go of a good employee."

"But-"

"Please, don't worry about it. Children like him are the reason I wanted to build orphanages. Most children that come through my homes don't have aunts that can take care of them." he assured you, before sipping his drink.

"Well, thank you, Mr. Shelby." you got out, eyes welling up.

"Thomas."

"Thank you, Thomas." you corrected yourself, giving him a small smile.

After a few moments of contemplation, he stated, "Your maternity pay begins tomorrow. You will stay home to care for the boy, and come back when he is able to be received by a nanny."

No way. You just stared in shock at the beautiful man sitting across from you.

"Y/N?"

"Why?" was all you managed, tears spilling over.

"If I don't keep you in my debt, how can I be assured that you'll stay? Lizzie can manage it on her own, but I prefer her not to when I can." he shrugged. You were sure he was joking, but you had a feeling that he was being absolutely serious.

"I will owe you for the rest of my life." you let out a bewildered laugh.

"Cheers." he gave the smallest hint of a smile, and raised his glass to yours.

"Cheers." you clinked your glass to his, and then knocked the rest of it back. You could breathe easy for the first time since your brother's passing. That pain might never go away, but this was a step closer to finding peace again.

[takeiteasypeasybaby]

Save Me: Chapter 63 - Mine

~Hey guys! Chapter 63 is out now :) I hope everyone has a good week and is enjoying the story so far~

Molly wakes to find total chaos as her loved ones are found on the wrong side of justice.

Last night...

Lydia's POV//

Gracie was the only one I could turn to now.

Yeah, she was a few years younger than me, but she was always really nice to me.

I also liked Judith, but she was usually at Hilltop with her mom or out there fighting near Alexandria.

I was really envious of all the kids who were allowed to train out there and weren't treated like kids.

My mom taught me to fight but she made it seem like I never had a choice, not until I met Molly.

She was like an older sister to me, looked after me but didn't baby me or patronise.

But, as much as I had bonded with her, there were times when I couldn't turn to her for help.

These were her people, she loved them and they loved her.

Even the new people that came in and their kids who weren't so nice, they all loved her like she was their 'saviour'.

I wish they would look at me that way...

Molly always said right from the start that I was one of them, that I was family, but so many of them still hated me.

They would avoid me and call me names, but only when Molly wasn't there.

This brings me to last week.

We had just came back to Alexandria and Molly had brought some of the highway men's kids with her.

They were so grateful but because my mother killed two of theirs, they blamed me for it.

They would scowl and spit at me, their kids would call me a 'freak' for my lack of manners.

One of them, named Gage, he was a little older than me, probably around seventeen.

He would taunt me and isolate me from the other kids.

At the lunch table, I went to sit alone on the end and he said 'give us some room please.

I had caught a squirrel and used my knife to slice it open right there on the table.

They all looked on at me with disgust as I smirked, knowing how weak they all were.

Molly would have frowned to see me eating like an animal but screw em.

'Oh my god?! What is wrong with you?! You're crazy!' he yelled as blood splattered against his cheek.

He stood up as one of the highway men said to the other 'is this why Ozzy and Alec died? So she could make a fool of us?'.

The highway woman shook her head and said 'not here' as all three of them continued to scowl at me.

I had had enough and placed a bloody finger to my lips and said 'shhh' to aggravate them more.

I didn't give a shit if they didn't like me, they were all assholes for thinking I was still a whisperer.

Molly got told about what happened and sat me down to talk.

'You do wanna live here right?' she asked.

'They deserved it' I said angrily.

She nodded and said calmly 'I know' as she brought me some fresh clothes, the others were stained with squirrel blood.

She sighed and said 'but you can't be doing shit like that'.

I stormed up to her and said 'but they can just write whatever the hell they want on their door?'.

They would write 'Silence the Whisperers' in red paint on any piece of wood they could find.

Sometimes mentioning me as the leader's daughter.

'I'll talk to them and set them straight' Molly said seriously as she was about to walk out of the house.

'No please, I don't want you to fight my fight for me, okay? They want me to give up, I know that. But I'm not gonna, okay I cant' I ranted as Molly just looked at me like she understood.

'It's okay, I get it, but just let me help you' she pleaded.

I said sternly 'I can handle it' and walked out.

We weren't fighting, she just wanted to help but I didn't let her.

Instead, she just gave me my space and asked me to come home when I got dark.

For some reason, there was a guard outside our front door.

He silently stepped aside and let me in.

I heard the shower water running upstairs so I knew Molly hadn't heard me come in yet.

I debated as to whether I would go to sleep or I would walk around for a little longer.

It was peaceful outside when no one was around, just me and the sparkly sky.

I waited until I heard the bathroom door open and close and then I grabbed a snack and some books.

I creaked open the front door as the guard stepped aside again in confusion as I stormed out into the night.

I sauntered blissfully through the washing lines, lifting up the white sheets as I ducked under.

I was about to walk under the next one when the highway woman stopped in front of me and said 'shh'.

I turned around frantically to see the highway man and Gage standing there behind me, I was trapped.

I took out my knife and twirled it in my hand as I readied my stance.

The woman grabbed me and choked me as I said 'why do you hate me?'.

She grabbed harder as she said 'because you put my friends on spikes'.

I said breathlessly as I struggled for air, 'I wasn't there'.

She let go of me and pushed me back into the middle and said smiling sinisterly, 'Ozzy was always a fair man, so in his honour I'm gonna give you one last chance'.

She tilted her head and said, 'if you run away now, we'll play dumb when they ask us'.

I stood my ground and said sternly, 'this is my home and you are my people'.

She scowled and punched me across the face as the other two men tackled me to the floor, slapping and punching me until my face bled.

Gage looked terrified and tried to run but the woman pulled him back to watch.

'She killed your friends, Addy and Rodney' she whispered.

The man held down my arms as he made me face Gage.

'I loved Henry, you know I loved him please!' I begged as blood spurted out of my mouth.

He scowled and punched me in my throat.

I fell to the ground instantly as he tackled me and continually pummelled my rib cage.

I struggled and kicked until I knocked him off me as I screamed 'get off me!'.

'Hold her down, get her!' the man said as he started to unbuckle his jeans.

It was all a blur until a figure came out of the dark and pushed the woman away from me.

I opened my eyes to see Negan.

He threw the man off of me and pointed to the boy to get the fuck back.

Negan stood over me as I just cried, clinging to his ankles.

He bent down slowly and said softly 'it's okay'.

He held the back of my head gently as I sobbed at his feet.

'We were just trying to scare her' Gage said nervously as he backed away.

Negan shot him a rage filled look as the guard from Molly's house came over.

'What the hell is going on here?' he said holding a spike.

'Holy shit, Margo' the highway man said frantically as he saw his friend's head bleeding out against the wall where Negan had pushed her.

I looked up as Negan rose to his feet and said 'shit' as he looked at the now dead woman.

Molly's POV//

I rolled over in my sleep to flip my pillow over to the cool side and adjust the sheets.

I no longer felt Negan's hands around my waist but I just thought he'd turned to sleep on his side, so I wasn't worried.

I smiled to myself as my eyes stayed closed and exhaled peacefully as I reached over to Negan's side to lay my arm across his chest.

I frowned gently as I felt his side of the bed completely empty.

I groaned and rubbed open my eyes in a daze as I reached back over for the lamp.

I switched it on to light up the room and found that Negan wasn't there.

I thought that Lydia would be asleep in her room so I didn't want to shout for him as I would wake her, so I got dressed, grabbed my gun just in case and paced downstairs quietly.

I checked all the rooms and found them empty.

Did he leave me in the middle of the night, like a one time thing?

My heartbeat raced as I glanced out of the window to see that Tom was now gone.

Had Negan walked back to his cell?

'What the shit?' I whispered to myself as I opened the front door and paced to his cell.

I heard shouting and commotion around the washing lines so I changed my path and walked there to see what was going on.

'It's all her fault! Freak!' one boy shouted, which made me frown in confusion.

Another voice shouted 'it was Negan!'.

At this my ears pricked up and I ran through the hanging sheets to see a circle of people around Negan and Lydia.

'What the fuck is going on?!' I shouted over the mass of voices.

They suddenly quietened down and parted as I saw Lydia curled up with a blanket over her shoulders as Daryl said 'shh it's okay'.

'No! It's wasn't Negan! He didn't do anything!' Lydia yelled as they dragged Negan away to his cell.

Negan didn't even put up a fight but I charged over to the guards and stood in front of them saying angrily 'if you so much as take a step forward, I will kill you both, right the fuck now'.

They stopped still and looked down as Negan smiled at me.

'She's only defending him because she's screwing him!' The highway man shouted.

I sighed and marched over to the man and punched him square across the face making him drop to the ground unconscious.

'Now, anyone else wanna try that shit? No? Okay, Daryl what the hell happened here?' I said as I rushed over to him and Lydia.

Lydia cried into my arms as Daryl said softly that Lydia had been beaten up by the highway man and Gage and that Margo had died because Negan pushed her against a wall.

'She attacked us!' Gage shouted to me as I dried Lydia's tears.

I scowled at him and said 'so why is Lydia the one who has bruises and cuts all over her face?!'.

He stayed silent as I sighed.

'Daryl, take them and put them in the cell for now. I'll take Lydia to the hospital' I said to Daryl as I pointed to the two thugs.

I looked across to Negan who was smiling sadly at me.

I knew he wasn't responsible for this, he saved Lydia from these people.

I walked over to Negan and the guards who were still holding him tightly and said 'wait for me for a few minutes, okay?'.

Negan nodded as I helped Lydia to stand and we walked to the hospital.

She limped and winced as she held her arm in pain.

'I want to kill them for what they did to you' I said filled with rage.

Mostly, I was just angry at myself for not being there.

Siddiq patched Lydia up and cleaned her wounds.

She had bruises all over and a black eye.

'I'm so sorry I wasn't there Lydia. I should've been there, I should've protected you!' I said with a raised voice as I paced around the room.

Siddiq left us to talk as Lydia said quietly 'it's not your fault'.

'Negan saved me, you have to believe me!' she said frantically as I came to sit next to her.

I stroked her hair and kissed her on the forehead, 'I know, I know' I said soothingly.

I stood back up and asked Siddiq to keep an eye on her for a few minutes.

'I'll be back in a few minutes' I said sternly as I thought of punishing those men.

'What are you gonna do to them?' Lydia asked sadly.

'They'll be dealt with' I said coolly as I stormed out of the room.

I went down to the cell and said to the scared men, 'you better work on your story, because you both are in for one hell of a trial tomorrow'.

The man didn't give in but Gage came to the bars and said frantically, 'we just wanted to scare her!'.

I scowled and said 'you wanna know what I think? I think you're scared little dickless cowards. Beating up a kid in the middle of the night instead of coming to me about your concerns?'.

I scoffed at how pathetic they both were.

'I'll just say this, you especially Gage, out there you wouldn't last two minutes. We need strength here, inside these walls. So, I need you both to prove to me that you're not pathetic individuals who instead of facing the actual problem, you go after an innocent' I yelled.

'She's not a whisperer! I don't know how to get this through your thick skulls, but the real problem is their leader who killed your friends by the way. She killed my sister! So I should know...' I shouted.

They looked at me wide eyed and silent as they just listened.

I scoffed and turned to open the door, 'man the fuck up and grow a pair!' I shouted to them before I left.

I exhaled and marched over to Negan who was waiting with the guards.

'You two can leave' I said sternly as I pointed at them.

They hesitated but then backed away to the cell.

'I love when you're all authoritative' Negan said smirking.

I smiled and asked him to come sit on the bench with me.

'Tell me what happened?' I asked softly.

'I heard the door shut, so I went outside to see what it was. I saw someone in the distance and then I heard screaming. I'm not gonna apologise for that woman being dead, she's a goddamn asshole beating on a kid. I pushed her off Lydia and she hit her head' he said softly.

I gazed into his eyes and believed him instantly.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him close to me, 'thank you' I whispered.

'You saved her' I continued tearfully as he stroked my face.

'Hope you didn't think I was walking out on ya?' he asked smirking.

I shook my head and said 'no' as I planted a gentle kiss on his lips.

'I'll sort this out, you go back to the house while I see Lydia' I said as I stood up.

'Now we've got two guards, you think they'll ever trust me?' Negan said chuckling as he walked away.

I smirked and rolled my eyes as I went to pick up Lydia and bring her home.

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 60: For the Lazy Mornings

Chapters: 60/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Mature Warnings:  Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go) Characters: Loki (Marvel),  Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Bad Dreams, Loki has Unresolved Issues, Reader Contemplates, Walk Walk Fashion Baby, Lol Yes I Did Write A Whole Chapter That Takes Place Within Like Thirty Minutes

Summary:  You miss breakfast.

Loki awoke to darkness; velvety, silent, and comfortable. A slight chill had crept into the room, the sensation familiar on his skin. The sun must be setting fully again, finally. The seasons on this world were so strange, foreign.

You shifted next to him. The chill might be soothing to him, but your fragile, precious human body might not take to it well. He should probably get an extra blanket for you.

Of course, there were other ways to keep you warm. Lust stirred in him, recalling your clumsy, insistent hands and hungry, determined expression. It wasn't the first handjob of his life, but it was certainly the most earnest.

For some reason, you hadn't wanted him to return the favor at the time. But now...

He placed his hand on your thigh. You rolled over to face him, bigger than you should be, twice, three times bigger than you should be. The bright, rainbow-scattered light of the old Bifrost Loki remembered lit up the room, highlighting your sapphire skin, your bright red eyes looking down at him fondly. Loki shouted, recoiling in revulsion, but the roar of the Bifrost drowned him out, the light overcoming him.

Loki sat up in bed.

It was dark, but to his eyes, faint light escaped from the edges of his blackout curtains. You stirred, and his head whipped around to stare. You were your normal, adorably compact size, and thankfully devoid of blue. He let out a relieved breath.

“Well.” You muttered. “That was weird. Is that what it's like, when you look down at me? What was that loud light?”

You must not have been able to see yourself in the dream, the way he had.

“That...that was the old Bifrost. It used to be like that, when it was fully functional and powered up. Brighter. Bigger. More color, more range, a louder roar. Just more powerful.”

Powerful enough to slice through the mile thick ice crust of a tiny, helpless planet, creating a canyon a quarter of the way across the equatorial region, exposing the water far below, and causing Norns only knew what kind of havoc.

You had still been beautiful, in the colorful light, in the wrong skin, the wrong size. Still beautiful. Somehow, it repulsed him.

But the dream was gone now, the shock fading away into the warmth you brought to his bed. He settled back down into your waiting arms. It was so comfortable here. Though not yet lovers exactly, you fit so well into his bed, and he fit so well into your arms, his head resting between your breast and jaw, so he could hear the steady pumping of your heart.

“Sleep, okay?” You encouraged. “Everyone's leaving tomorrow. Then you'll have peace again.”

“Hm? Whatever do you mean?” Loki said. He knew what you meant, but was surprised that you'd thought of it.

“Well, it's stressful, right? Having all these enemies around, pax or no.” You said, absently stroking his hair.

“Not enemies. Not anymore.”

“Not friends either, though. Bad blood.”

“Some of them.” He admitted.”Some of them weren't even there at the time. Many of the others have...well, not forgiven me precisely, but accepted the reality of me. Or simply moved on. But then, there are those who can't.”

“Tony.”

“It isn't his fault. My actions fundamentally changed him. How many others like him? I wonder sometimes.”

“You regret what you did?” You sounded...not surprised, but curious.

“I regret the lives lost. Though my actions actually brought some benefit to your world-forced your governments to realize there were threats from outside, to at least try to prepare for further incursions, revitalize your space programs, recognize your heroes...but it is terribly unbecoming to attack civilians.”

“Huglausi?” You ventured.

“Very.” He sighed. “I compromised my honor very severely. Obliterated it, really. I've done many unseen things to try to restore it. In the end, it's really all I have.”

He wrapped one arm around you and snuggled up as close as was possible without actually being on top of you.

“I've seen how superficial so many things really are, how easy it is to be stripped of them. Title. Wealth. Name. Home. Identity. The only thing that truly lasts, the only thing that has impact, is deeds. And mine have been...reprehensible.”

“But it wasn't entirely you.” You pointed out. “You were being controlled.”

“Not entirely. I told you, it was still me. I know it's tempting to attribute everything to some behind-the-scenes puppetmaster, but it wasn't like that, it was...” He trailed off, squeezing you.

“Like what?”

He held his breath and shook his head a little. If he told you too much, if he told you everything, you would never lie next to him again. He would lose this as soon as he had gotten it.

But didn't you deserve to know what kind of creature you slept next to? Didn't you at least deserve to know what was behind his actions on Earth? Maybe not the rest of it, but the things that impacted the world you lived in?

“You know how you hate the man who hurt you during the Sn-the Event? But you wish you did not, and you wish you could forgive him, but the anger and unfairness of it just hits you sometimes? And you feel guilty about it, and that makes you angry too; bitter, resentful. And that makes you feel even worse, and it just builds on itself, until it finally goes away, but you're miserable the whole time, and a while afterwards?”

“Uh...yeah. It's exactly like that, actually.”

“I too, have things that make me feel that way. And the influence of the Mind Stone was such that it made those thoughts, those angers and resentments come to the surface, and then it kept them there. It kept them fresh and constant-no healing, no overcoming, no acceptance or moving on, and, most importantly, no relief. It was neverending. A great font of anger and bitterness as fresh as the moment it was inflicted, and sustained, indefinitely, by the stone's power over me.

Thanos didn't put a ring in my nose to lead me around by; he didn't have to. A smidgen of psychological manipulation, and I was his. A nearly willing slave. I wanted the havoc I caused. I reveled in the chaos, the fear. I bathed in the sounds of screaming and destruction, lusted after the blood and terror.”

His breath had grown heavy. You fingers paused in his hair.

“I wanted it because I felt I had nothing else. No future, no identity. Only deeds. And I was determined to make them the biggest deeds I could, for good or ill. I was an avatar of the worst that a being like me could become, and the greatest I had ever been. I enjoyed what I was doing, because it was the only outlet, the only respite from the hate and anger that I had.

For all my plans, I could never have ruled like that. It's a lie the Mind Stone told me, that I tell myself, again and again. I could have done it. I could have made it work. But I could not even master myself. It was all lies, upon lies, upon lies. Lies built me. Lies define me, and that entire experience just proved it beyond any shadow of a doubt.”

“Loki...”

“Shhh.” He lightly brushed your mouth with his fingertips. “I committed great deeds. Great and terrible. And now, now that I control myself, now that the malign influence no longer hangs over me, I can no longer commit deeds so great. I cannot rebuild your city. You have already done that. I cannot show generosity in equal measure to my destructiveness. Asgards budget is too tight. Somehow, on the other side of madness, I am incapable of doing good in equal measure to ill. Why must it be so easy to harm you, but so difficult to help you?”

“Maybe because we all need different kinds of help, but we all die the same.” You said, and he grew quiet in contemplation. “ Loki, you have a lot you want to do, right? Rebuild Asgard, fix your reputation, help the people around you, be a good ruler. And on top of that, you have responsibilities to your family, and your people, and...well, to me too. As your...”

“Paramour...” He breathed. “Yes. I have...responsibilities. You...you need me.” It was almost a plea. “You want me...You want to be near me...I've been good to you...haven't I? Is there anything you need? Anything at all?”

You seemed to sense the tendrils of desperation that wound inside of him as he had explained himself, as he sought something to expend his energy on, and you resumed stroking his hair.

“Yes.” You said. “I need you to hold me for the rest of the night. I need to feel you close to me. I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up to you first thing in the morning. That's all I want right now. Can you give me those things?”

He didn't move, just remained molded to you, head tucked under your jaw. Purpose. Simple, attainable purpose.

“All those things and more. Thank you, _____. I needed to say it. I knew you would listen. Without the stone, I would have healed, at least a little. Without the stone, I have healed. A little. There was time to mourn, time to accept. Time to look forward. I...I wish I was already the man I could be for you. I will be though. If you will but be patient with me.”

“Sleep, Loki.” You said. “I want to get to that waking up with you next to me part.”

                                                                               *****

And so you did, slipping gently back into consciousness, with the comfortable weight of Loki's arm across your chest. You turned your head to find he had tucked you under his chin, cuddling you like a plush doll.

You kissed his throat until he shifted and his breathing changed.

“Darling...” He mumbled sleepily. “Blessed maiden of comfort. Good morning.”

“Mornin' sweetie.” You said, and he scoffed at the pet name.

“I am a god.” He said

“You are a grump.” You answered, kissing the tip of his nose and shimmying out of bed.

He slithered out after you. “Am I really?”

“Only sometimes.” You teased.

You didn't join him in the bath this time, opting to take one in the evening instead. Your clothes had been left in a neatly folded stack just outside the door to Loki's bedroom rather than outside of yours.

Oh yes, everyone knew what was going on.

You reflected on how easy that acceptance seemed to be, as you slipped into your clothes for the day. Aside from a few loud, unpleasant, and downright dangerous individuals, the people of Asgard seemed perfectly fine with you.

Even though you'd been told several times that there was a struggle between human-friendly and human-unfriendly factions, it was really being treated as if the eventual failure and disappearance of the human-unfriendly groups was a foregone conclusion. As if it had all happened before, and had turned out the same every time.

Well, hadn't it?

The war with the Vanir had ended millenia ago, possibly before the first human civilizations had even begun. You could see the influence of their heritage in Saldis' features, and knew there were full Vanir here in Asgard who were trapped away from Vanaheim by the events of Ragnarok. Nobody cared anymore. The former queen of Asgard and the guardian of all Asgard were both raised by Alfar. Heck, with the strangeness of Heimdalls eyes, there might actually have been Alfar in his family tree.

Once you thought about it, there might be a little Jotun mixed in as well. Probably not Frost Giants, since they still seemed to be a point of contention among Asgardians, but other kinds of Jotun they didn't seem to have much trouble with. You knew the Vanir didn't have any trouble with intermarrying with them, and neither Loki, Brunnhilde, or Saga seemed to think they idea of marrying a Jotun was all that strange. Freyr was married to one, and they didn't act like he was a freak or anything. In fact, since Jotun were so genetically flexible, it was possible that any Asgardian could have a Jotun ancestor, and it might not even show at all.

You knew absolutely nothing about the previous queens of Asgard, save for where Frigga was raised...

Nah. You didn't actually want to go fishing for more royal scandal. You technically were one, even if the majority of Asgardians had accepted that you were but a harbinger of what was to come. They had survived intermingling with others, and they would survive humans too. Probably come out even better for it, if the history Saga taught you was accurate.

The real problem might just be other humans reactions to the idea. Humans were far too proficient at focusing on the differences between people, and dividing themselves up into groups that weren't supposed to be allowed to mingle...but still definitely did, even if the consequences were terrible. That was the problem. There shouldn't be those kinds of consequences, but there would be.  For the longest time, humans only had other humans to define as 'outsiders'. Only very recently had extraterrestrial intelligent species come to their attention, and almost every time, it was in a very negative way.

Part of the world was very on board with the Asgardians, but it was because of a shared cultural history. They regarded the Asgardians as partially 'theirs' somehow. But the rest of the world had no such ties, and some countries had a definite-and admittedly justified-beef with certain prominent Asgardians. One of which you happened to be actually dating.

Okay, but what could they actually do to you, aside from troll you on the internet? Asgard was on the lookout for assassins now, and you had committed no crimes. Besides, being with Loki was a good thing, right? It was a symbol of friendliness and good will between Asgard and humankind, right?

That was definitely not why you were doing it though. You just really liked him. Loki was a man of many virtues. One of them was how he came back from the bath, shirtless, and with his hair still damp.

That was a very good one.

Loki gave his hair one last scrub with the towel, dropped said towel over the back of his desk chair, and opened the carved wooden doors to his huge wardrobe. He stood in contemplation of the perfect thing to wear.

“What do you think...” He murmured. “What's the best combination for saying goodbye to a group of not-quite-enemies?”

“Peacefully?” You asked.

“Of course! I can't let it be known, but I actually like some of them, just a little.”

“So you want the 'lady who has just divorced her jackass, loser husband, and is past ready to mingle' look.”

One perfect eyebrow arched. “Do I?”

“Yeah.” You ducked under his arm and peered into the wardrobe. “So you wanna show off, but not your very best, because that's trying too hard, right? All black is dramatic, and looks so good on you...”

He preened.

“...But I think it might make you fade into the backdrop. How about this one though? The green matches mine, so we could present as a unified front. Also I like this little short cape.”

“This is a capelet. Would you like one? They are not difficult to make; I can order some for you.”  

He held up the tunic; a quilted thing of rich pine green and gold piping, knotwork designs at the stiff cuffs and mandarin collar.

“You like this?”

“It looks very...touchable.”

Both eyebrows went up this time. “Is that the image we want to project?”

“Put it on, and lets see.”

The tunic molded to him, so tight that you would have though it simply didn't fit. But he seemed to be able to move in it just fine. You ran your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

“I was right. Very touchable.”

He caught your hands in his and squeezed them gently.

“I'm glad you like it, but I don't think so. Not this one. It is actually part of a matched set made for myself and Thor, when we were younger.. It doesn't feel right to wear it, if he is not wearing his. I doubt he still even fits into his.”

He removed the tunic, and searched for another.

“I do like the color matching idea though. Perhaps this one? It is similar.”

This tunic did not fit him quite as tightly, but was still expertly tailored, and still the same color of green. It fell all the way to his knees, split to the hips in four places, and the sleeves terminated in sharp points over the back of his hands. It was quilted as well, but the pattern was more like scales, and you noticed that the metallic thread was gradated; starting out black at the bottom, then shifting to green, then gold at the collar and shoulders.

“Wow.” You breathed. “You look like a dragon!”

“Well,” He said. “I did steal you and fly you away to my lair full of riches, did I not?”

“That you did. Speaking of riches...can you help me with my brooches?”

“Of course, my dear.” He plucked the oval brooches from your palm, very carefully pinning them in place, so as not to prick you. As you had thought, he got them perfectly centered, their strings of beads cascading over the top of your breasts. They drew his eyes. “But you know how to pin them yourself, don't you?”

“Yeah, I do.” You said, a little sultriness slipping into your voice. Loki's eyes flicked to yours. He licked his lips.

You were in his arms barely a moment later, drowning in his mouth.

“I wish I was the man I could be for you. I will be.”

No man had ever said anything like that to you before. Never expressed any desire to be better for you. It was usually the opposite.

Loki, prince and god, wanted to be better. For you.

You were going to miss breakfast.

[dreamdaddydutch]

Hi can i request some Javier fluff just anything that is fluffy uwu

Hey friend, of course you can! I always love reading/writing Javier fluff. I was gonna write some head canons or something super short but then ended up writing this little piece which I rather like. 

Title: In a Cave  

The weather was miserable, the mood in the camp even more so.

Usually when arguments begun you would remove yourself from the camp and take your horse out for a ride. Together you would see what animals you could hunt to distract yourself from the chaos and hopefully bring some peace to the others. Today was not one of those days, the rain lashed down with what you could only describe as ‘vengeance’. Perhaps God was thoroughly pissed off at the behaviour of yourself and the gang and therefore dictated the weather as punishment.

A foolish thought perhaps, but in a way it was more comforting than the truth.

Unable to escape from the camp entirely, you walked off through the mud and into the cave. You carried a torch with you that somehow survived the short trip even in the current deluge.

As you sat on a dry rock, you let out a long sigh that came from deep down. A sigh that you could only allow to pass your lips away from earshot of others who were so quick to judge or comment. Away from others you could be yourself for a brief moment. 

Torch still in hand, feeling the warmth against your skin, the glow of the fire a respite from the negativity you felt yourself smile. Through the rain you saw the others milling about in camp, watched the raindrops drip from the entrance of the cave and puddle on the floor. You started to count them, one drop after the other, letting the sound soothe you.

After a few minutes you placed the torch on the floor, propped up against a rock so that the cave was still aglow.

Allowing yourself a moment of pleasure you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, listening to the rain now you felt at peace for the first time in weeks. So rested were you in that moment that you didn’t hear him enter the cave or his soft footsteps as he walked up to you.

It was only when Javier sat beside you that you realised he was there, though it wasn’t the noise he made that alerted you to his presence, rather you could feel him beside you. His warmth, how the air around you seemed clearer, something that drew you to him. And his smell, cigarette smoke, jasmine and freshly cut grass.

Your lips curled into a smile and without opening your eyes you said, “Hello Javier.”

You heard him lowly chuckle then sigh as he shifted his weight, one of his hands coming to rest on your knee. He squeezed gently, “I came to say I’m sorry.”

Your eyes still remained closed, you could just make out the fire, sound of rain seeming louder now as your senses came to life. The feel of Javier’s hand on your knee warmed you.

“What for?”

“I….” as he paused you knew the exact expression he was pulling, slightly pained and searching for the words to explain his troubled heart, “I haven’t been myself…I’ve been a little nervous, short, distant…frustrated…” His voice trailed off. You placed a hand on his and squeezed, “We all have Javier, it’s okay, we’re in this together.”

Silence for a moment, no matter how brief, the silence had been something you had loved in your relationship with Javier. Not that you didn’t love hearing his voice when he sang or during your late night confessions. The silence was when you knew the two of you were destined to be together. You didn’t need words to feel connected, sometimes the silence between you was beautiful. Because when you closed your eyes, really closed them so you were seeing stars you were sure you could feel the threads that bound the two of you together. Invisible to the naked eye but there all the same.

You turned your head and smiled, eyes still shut you felt the contours of your lips moving, could feel Javier smiling in return.

“I just wanted some time alone with you, you know?” He said softly, his voice tinged with guilt.

“Soon my love, when all of this is over, we’ll have so much time we won’t know what to do with it.” Even speaking the words hurt because right now you barely believed them, but you had to try.

“Yes,” Javier said with certainty, his hand now traveling up your thigh a little and squeezing. 

Another hand touched your cheek, feather light his finger tips grazed the skin so softly that you shivered and felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. 

“I love you love,” he said. 

“And I you Javier,” as you replied you daren’t open your eyes for fear that he would now see the tears that pooled in them.

“I promise you mi amor, all of this is going to get better,” he stroked your cheek now, the other hand leaving your thigh and cupping your cheek so that his thumb was over your earlobe, gently rubbing small circles.

You let out a small satisfied moan, Javier was excellent at knowing just how to soothe and relax you. 

You felt him move a little closer so that one of his knees touched your leg. 

“Tonight in our tent let me brush your hair.”

You nodded slightly so not to break the contact between your cheeks and his hands.

You felt the air in front of you rush, warm, something else and then oh… His lips were on yours a moment later, your Javier, despite the storm that raged on around you there was a break in the clouds. A second where your lips crashed together and his hands were in your hair, every movement was fuelled by love. Your lips moved with his, craving that attention and closeness, his taste given to you in abundance once and now so fleeting. Every second was savoured so that when your lips broke away you licked yours, lapping up every part of him you could. 

But your heart remained light, for when the kiss broke he whispered in your ear, “I won’t abandon you ever.” He kissed your earlobe, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Even better than Dutch?” You teased. 

“Shhh,” Javier laughed, as he pulled you into his arms allowing you to nuzzle into his neck, “Don’t tell him.”

It was only when you sat back up that you opened your eyes and saw Javier looking at you, in awe, like the world outside the cave didn’t matter. A flash of light, then somewhere in the distance you heard a clap of thunder and the low rumble which followed. 

“I always loved going to sleep during a storm,” you said yawning and stretching your arms above you.

Javier slid his arm round you and pulled you into his side, “Me too, we’ll sleep well tonight.”

[electricbluebutterflies]

stay

“You are here with me and you have made it absolutely clear, at every possible opportunity, that you will keep me safe. And this right now is not who you are.”

Pre-relationship Garcy emotion-flail, because @amandamiris brought this image to my attention and I had to write something off it. PG-ish and also on ao3.

She decides to stay because it's two in the morning and the stairs make too much noise. At least, this is the reason Lucy will give if anyone outside of this room ever has any idea about her current set of choices, which she hopes they will not. She is allowed some vague version of a private life, she hopes, and the whole situation is not at all what it looks like or what certain people have assumed it to be.

It is innocent. All she did was seek a little companionship with someone who, despite everything, lets her into his spaces. No manipulation or ulterior motives, no acting on tension, just two haunted people wanting to feel a little less alone. Not at all what it looks like, but it still looks better if she stays.

This isn't the first time either. As much as she hates to put it like that, she's been hiding in Flynn's room on a fairly regular basis since they were moved to the current safehouse. This one was actually designed for longterm human occupation, a little more spacious and several more levels to the living area, and her partner - can she call him that, in the most innocent and platonic way? - exiled himself to the out-of-the-way attic room before anyone else figured out their respective spaces. Lucy suspects that was yet another act of subconscious masochism or sacrificial tendencies or most likely an unholy midpoint - the ceiling is a little too low, it's colder than the rest of the house, and there's a half-assed attempt at a skylight that requires repair on a level none of the team can figure out. Perhaps not fit for human occupation, but someone had to claim it and…

She ends up there most nights, at least for a while, because talking to him is about the only good thing in her life right now and because it's easier to avoid certain other problems if she does not see them. She is the only other person who goes up there - she does not have confirmation of this, has not watched anyone else's habits closely enough to prove it, but she knows she is. Group dynamics are steadily improving, but Flynn is still the designated outsider and she suspects he feels it more than he lets on.

She sees things, and she tries to distract and help as she can, and usually she wanders back downstairs at a more sensible hour but tonight they ended up having a long rambling conversation about childhood injuries because she asked about one of his scars and it spiraled from there, and now it is two in the morning and she absolutely does not want to leave.

She feels something in the air - not just the changing dynamic between them, the inevitability being made clearer every day, but something outside. The first warnings of a long night, the worst storm this part of wherever-the-hell has seen in a decade. And that too means she cannot leave. She has watched him closely this last year, seen with her own eyes that all the clichés about career soldiers and loud noises are true. Perhaps, she thinks, it will be a little less painful if he is not alone.

"Is it okay if I stay?" she asks, because there is a plan evolving in her mind and she wants full permission for every step.

He nods. They're in their usual places right now, him in the chair and her on the bed. On other nights she's decided to stay, they've maintained their perfect distance like this. She suspects he doesn't actually sleep when she's around, protective instincts too high, but she can justify it tonight, she can-

"Could you… could you come over here?"

"What do you want?" He sounds scared, but more for her than himself, and it breaks her heart a little, and-

"It's cold and you're warm. And I would like… I want you."

She realizes as soon as she's said it that she could've done it differently, said something that sounds a little less like she's propositioning him - which she is decidedly not, thank you very much - but she's made herself clear enough and he crosses the space without further hesitation.

"This might be awkward," he murmurs.

"I trust you won't hurt me."

Lucy gets to her feet and motions to the mattress behind her. The way she sees it, it'll be easiest if he gets in some kind of comfortable position - to the extent that he can, in a space that is definitely not designed to accommodate a person his size - and she gets roughly on top of him. Which, yeah, has a chance of being awkward. But she's not particularly concerned about him doing anything, and her own impulse control is improving, and-

"You're really gonna sleep in all of that?" she asks, giving him a Look.

Flynn has not made any effort to make himself comfortable. Not only is he still wearing several layers of shirts, which seems like overkill, but he's also still in his damn shoes. Not at all normal, and she's concerned about how much is for her benefit and how much is just neurotic bullshit, and-

"Trying to make things less awkward."

"Don't. Pretend I'm not here. I know… I know not to ask questions about things."

He gives her that kicked-puppy look she hates so much, but again complies and does what she wants. Shoes kicked off, layers shed. She is not about to tell him when to stop, but she's still a little surprised when he takes off his undershirt as well. This is… okay, this is a lot.

She's looking. She is definitely looking, taking note of scars and also just appreciating the view. She is not about to do anything, but she has made her peace with her attraction to him. Someday, perhaps, she will act on it. Right now, she's imprinting as much of this as she can into the core parts of her brain.

"Are you alright?"

His hand on her shoulder, steadying her before she knows she needs that.

"Yeah. Fine. You… yeah."

She turns away for a moment, gives him space to figure out position again while she figures out her own clothing situation. Leggings are cute but unnecessary so off they go, and she's short enough that this shirt she's got on covers enough and she figures she'll be fine. To the extent that it is possible to be fine while curling up around someone she has a lot of very complicated feelings about. She will be fine.

She walks over and turns off the light, and from there it is far too easy to take what little space there is on the mattress, just slightly draping her body over his. It feels, and she hates herself for thinking this, like the best thing she's ever done.

"Why are you doing this, Lucy?"

She feels his voice more than hears it, and yeah, the other kind of awkward is an absolute possibility.

"If I were to go downstairs right now, I would wake people up," she murmurs. "It's easier if I stay."

"I meant more…"

"I want to. I'm touch-starved and you're safe. Is that enough?"

He makes a noise that sounds a lot like no it is not, but he does not question her judgment any further. "You are safe. Try to rest."

She does.

She wakes up to her body in motion and the sound of a falling tree in the background, hopefully not too close to their current location. For a moment, Lucy is very scared, but she quickly processes everything. She was right about the storm and equally right about her partner's reaction to it, and her current physical state of being makes perfect sense.

A more normal person would probably react to being pinned against a wall, with their partner's body covering theirs, a little more dramatically. Lucy just sighs and accepts that she did in fact sign up for this, and she is able to breathe just fine so there's no point in making an issue out of what is probably just a subconscious reaction.

Again, this is not a completely new experience. Perhaps a little more sudden and complicated than before, but similar enough things have happened on missions. Flynn is strong and protective in equal measures, and quick reflexes on top of that mean he's pulled her out of bad situations a couple of times for various reasons. She trusts him enough, and-

Lightning illuminates the room as his eyes open, as he processes what he has apparently done without knowing. She watches and feels his panic, though he makes no move to separate himself from her. His arm around her back pulls her closer, and she does not know how to calm him, she does not-

"I cannot keep you safe enough," he murmurs, sounding like he is probably about to cry.

She signed up for this, she tells herself as she wraps her arms around him. She has made space in her life for this man, she is well aware of his scars and chose to want him anyways. At times the protectiveness feels like overkill, but right now it makes total sense to her. The world outside sounds like a threat, and she is what he cares about most, and-

"I'm not bothered by it," she replies. If anything, this confirms her feelings - not that she will ever say that out loud, but-

"I panicked. And I did something without warning."

"You did something without knowing," and again her heart breaks, and-

"What if that were something real? What if I am not enough?"

"Shhh. You've taken… how many injuries for me?" She really can't remember, it's too late or maybe too early for this.

"Two bullets, stabbed once… are we counting the minor ones?"

"Enough," she murmurs. "You are enough." She wants to kiss him right now but knows that won't help, knows that will only add more layers to their current set of problems. And these are their problems, she decides - she will face everything alongside him, this man she loves, she will-

"How can you be so sure?"

God, she is not awake enough for this conversation, but it's happening regardless of whether she wants it so might as well embrace the chaos.

"I stayed tonight," she starts, because that elephant needs a little eye contact before she says something stupid about feelings. "Because I knew this would happen. Because I remember that incident with the fireworks and… I didn't want you to deal with that alone."

"You don't need to sacrifice yourself for me."

Well that is just… oh, she's wanted to yell that line at him a couple times recently, in much more deserving situations, and now she can't. Dammit.

"Exactly none of this is a sacrifice," she hisses. "I am here. I am safely in bed with someone I love, and you're hovering over me without squishing me and I'm kinda impressed, and I trust you to protect me. Whatever happens. I love you and I trust you."

And okay, that was not how she planned to admit she actually has feelings for him, but she went for it and now she gets the consequences. And oh, there are consequences.

He's shellshocked for a few moments, and then he breaks. Silent falling apart, and their bodies shift again and they lie side by side and she wraps herself around him because she is not sure what to say.

Touch-starved, she'd said earlier. It hits her now how much that goes both ways, exactly how long it has been since the last time this man was safely entwined with another person. And he has had that - a good life, before it was taken away - and has a baseline for how that ought to be.

Lucy, on the other hand, is figuring this out as she goes and hoping she doesn't screw up too catastrophically. And not really sure, at this point, how to ask.

"I love you and I trust you," she repeats, willing that to be enough.

"Why?"

Four in the morning is really not the ideal time for this conversation, she thinks again, but she's opened that box so she might as well see what all comes out before she crashes.

"Because you see me. Because even back when I was wrong, you were able to be annoyed and in awe of me at the same time. Because I have known from the moment I saw you that you are incapable of hurting me. Because your first instinct a couple minutes ago, when lightning struck a fucking tree out there, was to make sure I was as safe as possible. Do you realize how much that means to me, Garcia Flynn? Do you realize that's all I've ever wanted from another person?"

He is still shaking, still in panic. "I am useless to you right now, Lucy."

"No. Wrong. You are here with me and you have made it absolutely clear, at every possible opportunity, that you will keep me safe. And this right now is not who you are."

"I am not-"

"Can you please shut up and let me say nice things about you? I don't care about how useful you are at a given moment. That's not… that's not what matters to me. It's nice but it's not everything. What matters to me is you're kind and you have done everything possible to keep me out of harm and I don't… I don't have to question that. I know where your heart is."

"I do not deserve you," he breathes.

"You're not a monster or whatever the hell you think you are right now. You're a good man, and you're mine, however you want to be."

She expects some dramatic self-deprecating comment, because he does have a certain talent for those, but instead he shifts closer and presses a gentle kiss to the curve of her neck. Likely the easiest part of her skin to reach in their current positions, but it sends a shiver through her entire body. It's a matter of time now, days instead of months, before the inevitable collision she has braced for since their paths crossed. Not right now, no, but soon.

"Was that alright?" he asks, because of course he does.

"Yes. I don't… this is bad timing, but… yes."

"Understood."

"You're in a bad place and I think I'm in shock. And I know I've used people before, and…"

"I trust you too."

"In the morning. Maybe."

"I would like that."

The worst of the storm has passed. It's been a few minutes since she's heard anything particularly loud, and she suspects her hearing is probably better than his. And it is still late, and she is still tired, and-

"Try to sleep," she murmurs, closing her eyes.

She doubts he will. She is amazed as her own mind drifts, her last thoughts as she slips into subconsciousness being…

The next time she wakes up, light is shining through the skylight and her body is exactly where she expects it to be. A little more entwined with her partner than she expects, perhaps, but comfortably so. She could get used to all of this so easily, and she wants to, and-

"You're still here," he breathes.

"Yeah. Still here."

She kisses him because she can, because she's wanted to for years and neither of them really has to do anything just yet. If the alarm goes off, plans will obviously change, but otherwise…

"You were right."

"Oh?"

"Having you here… did make things better."

"Good."

She thinks, as he kisses her and she feels made whole, that she would like to stay.

[missnctyukhei]

NCT  Reaction: Teasing them by putting their hand down his or her pants

Warnings: smut, sexual themes

Request:

A nct reaction to their s/o teasing them by putting their hand down his or her pants?

Kun smut when their s/o teases them until they are about to break 😍

a/n: Since the two messages were so similar, I made them in one at once. I hope that is all right and I hope you have fun with this smut. ;) I know some of the Dreamies are already 18, but I can only write about Mark. But it’s the first reaction where are all my biases are included. (I have too many of them haha) <3</p>

Taeyong

Taeyong is your first boyfriend who likes to go shopping with you. He was stylish and had a good fashion taste. He also loved choosing clothes for you and he'd rip you off your body later in the evening. Even today he had chosen a black tight dress for you. At first you were not sure, but he persuaded you to try it at least once. You put on the dress in the locker room, but you couldn’t reach the closure. You ask your boyfriend for help, who came to you immediately. He pulled up the zipper and then stroked your hips. He puts your hair aside and kisses your neck. He knew you were weak on that spot. He pulled the dress up a little so that he could reach your panties with his fingers. He begins to shift the pressure on your clitoris and you moan softly. With increasing movements, the fabric of your underpants became more and more wet. Then he brushes the fabric aside a bit and insert a finger inside you. It was difficult for you to hold back your moan with his increasing movement.

"I'm gonna cum." You moan and lean your palms against the wall. But before you can reach your climax, he pulls his finger out of you and pulls down your dress again.

“You need to wait until we home and you will beg for my cock.”

Taeil

Taeil was mostly reserved. Although he liked to touch you, but when it came to the act, you usually took control. But when you two were invited to a party and you were wearing your tight red dress, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He did not get a single correct sentence out in front of you anymore. His eyes look at your body all the time and you enjoy that attention. After that time he couldn’t stand anymore and pulled you into a corner. He pushes you to the wall and gave you an intense kiss.

"You want to challenge me with your dress." He strokes his palms first over your chest, down to your pelvis until he stops in the middle of your body. He reaches for the end of your dress and puts his hand under it.

"Taeil, there are a lot of people here." Are you sighing and trying to resist his touch. He pulls the fabric of your thong aside and put a finger inside you. You have to control yourself, so you try to don’t groan loudly. At first, Taeil just wanted to tease you, but this game excited him too much.

“I think we should leave now this party.”

Johnny

Some of SM's contractors invited you and Johnny to dinner, among other things. But the talks were just about the work and you couldn’t do anything with it. It just bored you. You look to your boyfriend and admire his flawless appearance. At that moment, you didn’t want to be at this dinner anymore. You only wanted him, naked in your bedroom. You wanted him to fuck you all night and just stop to change the position. You wanted to go through the whole Kama Sutra with him. Johnny triggered something in you that makes you unrecognizable. But you liked this new dirty side on you. You wanted to push the game forward and put your hands down into his pants. But he was calm. His only reaction is to turn to you and give you a smile. But with increasing pressure of your hands, you notice how his middle grew more and more. You knew he could not stand the pressure any longer. He seemed calm from the outside, but you knew he was cooking inside.

“Remember that your actions can also have consequences.” He whispered sharply in your ear and clutched your hand, with which you massaged his crotch. You look at him wide-eyed and you knew that your lascivious gaze gave him the rest.

"Go to the bathroom, I'll be there in two minutes and you'll finish what you started."

Yuta

It was a pretty hectic day. Yuta had one appointment after another. You always accompany him, but you two hardly have time for each other. The next appointment was already waiting and Yuta and you take a taxi to arrive quickly at the chosen location. Unfortunately, there was a traffic jam and you are stuck in the middle of this traffic chaos. Nervously you look at your watch, you were already late. But Yuta was very calm. Nobody could change the situation anyway.

"Let's use the time differently." He breathed to you while he reached between your legs.

"But we're in the taxi, the driver ..."

“Shhh…” He interrupted you and kissed you passionately. His hands brushed over your panties and with even movements he exerted pressure on your sensitive area. You noticed that the driver threw a suspicious look in the rear-view mirror, but Yuta's hands felt so good. But the traffic jam broke and the journey continued. Yuta released his hands from you with a dirty grin. But you were so sensitive that over every hill and every shake of the car, you got near to an orgasm.

Kun

It was supposed to be just a cozy evening. You are sitting in front of the TV with Yukhei, Jungwoo and your boyfriend Kun. You are watching the latest Marvel part and you cuddle up with your blanket. So you lie together on the couch and can follow the movie in peace. As you cuddle closer to Kun, you first touch his crotch accidently. Even this touch made him flinch. You decided to make a game out of it. First you put the blanket over his and your lap, then you start to play on his waistband. Kun's eyes were still on the TV, but you realize he has to take a deep breath. You pull his jogging pants down a little, just to the extent that his cock is well tangible.

“Babe what are you doing?” He whispers to you, but you didn’t answer him and continue your work on his dick. His breathing became heavier and a soft moan escaped his lips. Fortunately, his roommates didn’t notice his strange sounds. They were too focused on the movie. Your grip has tightened and you feel in your palms that his cock grew and grew and get harder and harder.

“You need to stop…now.” He sighed softly and you realize that he was less and less able to control himself. But you don’t mind it and you don’t even thinking about to stop. Your movements became faster and firmer. Kun's breath getting louder and he almost went over the edge. But then he took the reins in his hand and pulled up his sweatpants again. He also pulled you off the couch and you two getting into his room.

"You will be punished for that."

Doyoung

Of course, summer was hot, but this year it seems to break the limits. Doyoung and you decide to go swimming to cool off a bit. In the middle of Seoul, you found a swimming pool where it played good music and there were also good cocktails. You two play around in the water and drink the summer drinks, but in time you became more hornier. It was clearly the alcohol. You have always been a little more touchy. But here were you and Doyoung, half-naked, just in your bathing suit. His body was incredible and his cock is characterized by his swimming trunks. Doyoung was just leaning at the edge of the pool, so you swim over to him and put your arms around his neck.

"Why are you grinning like that?" He asks and smiles. You just shrug your shoulders. "Just so."

You kissed him and a hand wanders down into his crotch. He broke surprised away from your kiss and looked at you admonishingly.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

Ten

Actually, it was Ten who always teased you. But today you wanted to return the favour. You were just in a wine bar when you suddenly grabbed him in the crotch. Ten almost choked on his red wine when he felt your hand.

"What are you doing there?" He turned to you and grinned at you. But you just shrug and pretend that nothing is. You pretend that it would be normal to palm his cock while drinking wine. Ten does not know how he should react. But you feel like he was getting harder and his dick pressed against his pants. But in time he could not live like this longer. If you kept doing this, he would come in his pants immediately. He finished off the last sip of his glass and stood up.

“That's enough, we'll go home immediately!"

Jaehyun

You knew it was risky to enter into a relationship with Jaehyun even if you work in the same company. It was hard for you both to keep your hands off each other. You have already reserved the evening for you and you could hardly wait that his clothes fall to the floor. But you've been stuck in a meeting for hours. You keep glancing at Jaehyun, who was also annoyed. After the third contract has been read, you take your smartphone and send a message to your boyfriend.

“Can’t wait to suck your dick!”

Jaeyhun's phone lights up and he reads the message. Then he looked over at you, raised an eyebrow and also typed something into his smartphone.

“I can’t wait to take this dress off your body.”

The messages started very harmless at first. But it were all too innocent for your taste. First you send him a picture of you wearing your present lingerie. You watch him closely as he opens the photo and his expression changes between surprised and excited.

"You really want to take it to the top."

He answers and gave you an almost threatening look. But for you the top was far from reached. This meeting has just started to get interesting. You pull off your high heels quietly and your legs, which was only dressed by a stocking, touch his crotch. Jaehyun winces and for a moment the people in the conference room looked at him.

"Everything ok?" Asked your boss and Jaeyhun just nodded embarrassed. But that gave you no reason to stop your footwork. Then suddenly your phone lights up again. A message from Jaehyun:

"When we get home you'll be punished for your behaviour."

Winwin

Sicheng was currently training with the rest of NCT 127 on the new choreography. You were there as well and watched as they moved to the rhythm. Sicheng had so much talent and you saw exactly how his hips moved to the song. Every thrusts causes an inner unrest in you. After a while, the group paused and your boyfriend came to you and kissed you.

"How did you like it?" He asked excitedly, looking forward to your opinion.

"It's awesome, great and you're amazing, Sicheng, I'm so horny. I need you!" You almost moan the last words. He immediately shut your mouth and asked you to be quiet. But you reach into his crotch and massage his cock through the sweatpants.

"Please princess, I need a bit more time." He gently pushed you aside. You were disappointed and sad first. But Sicheng could not leave you that way either. He kissed you and then whispered in your ear.

"When I'm done, I'll fulfill every one of your wishes."

Jungwoo

You lay in bed with Jungwoo and cuddles innocently together. You have not seen each other for a long time and you were glad to have him back. Unfortunately, Mark thwarted your plans and went to Jungwoo’s room. You decide to watch a movie, and Mark fell fairly quickly asleep. The film continued to run on TV, but you wanted to feel your boyfriend. Jungwoo lay on his back and you turn closer to him.

"I have missed you so much." He says while he pulled a strand of hair to the side.

"I missed you too." You kiss him and grab his chest. But slowly your hand moved into his crotch and Jungwoo's eyes grew big.

"What do you do?" He almost stuttered with uncertainty.

"I just want to show you how much I missed you."

"But Mark is in the room." He looks over at his colleague. He was still very nervous.

"Ignore him, he sleeps, just be quiet." At first he was still very nervous when you put your hand in his pants. But while you palming him, he would tense up. Even though he was still unsure, he enjoyed your touch.

“Oh…ok. Keep going…like that.”

Lucas

You never liked action movies. You didn’t like them before and now you didn’t like it either. But your boyfriend Yukhei loved these movies and he persuaded you after hours that you go with him to the cinema. After some time you were totally bored by the plot. The story was boring and there were only fighting scenes. There were hardly any people in the hall and you two were sitting in the back of the last row. So you decide to take care of your own entertainment.

At first, your hand was still innocently on his thigh, but slowly your fingers wandered up. At first, Yukhei was still focused on the movie, but when you grab him in the crotch, his eyes suddenly became big.

“Babe what are you doing?” He looked down in surprise, but he didn’t stop you from continuing. You open his pants a little and let your hand slide into his underwear. Yukhei bit in his own fist. He was in conflict, because he would like to see the movie, but also found your action very exciting. But he feels that he was getting harder and made a decision.

“Ok that’s enough.” Yukhei got up, took you by the hand and pulled you out of the room. He pulls you into the bathroom and ends what you have started.

Mark

It was already late and Mark was still stuck in the recording studio. Taeyong was just recording his part while Mark was focused on his text. His lips moved silently to the music and the only thing you could think of was that you would like to have his lips elsewhere. You sit down on the couch with him and give him a kiss as a greeting.

"How long do you have to stay here?" He puts his arm around you while you stroke his thighs.

"I'm so sorry, but it will take a while." But you didn’t want to wait any longer. You had been waiting for him all day. Your hands suddenly reached under his sweatpants and Mark tried to stop you while your hands glided up and down on his dick.

"You know, there's a window and Taeyong could see us." He points to the windowpane, but you didn’t care. Your hands moved on and you realize he is getting more harder in your hands. But before it got hotter between you and him, Taeyong came out of the recording room. Mark jumped up instantly so that your hand automatically slipped out of his pants. He leans once more to you and whispers in your ear: “Wait until we are back home.”

[treehousepublishing]

Multiply Me | Chapter 22

Synopsis: Ella Sommers decides her biggest mission is also her last. Despite wanting to correct the Reestablishment’s mistakes, there are bigger things at stake now. Things not even her friends can know about.

A/N: I hardly ever interact in this blog. My real writing blog is @beanenigma. Thanks!

AO3 link | First Chapter | Index

ELLA

   I follow the sun as it dives into the horizon. I imagine being there too, having the car fall off the edge of the world, falling into darkness, finally thinking of something else other than my baby girl.

    My decision to go alone had been met with severe protest from both of my boys. Connor had cried. He hadn’t cried like that for some time now. With how smart he was, it was easy to forget he was still a child. He still needed me and his father. But this was something I had to do. I insisted for the boys to stay, I needed to go after them.

    And with Aaron in the state he was in, I don’t think anyone could stop him from reducing the whole camp to dust in case he didn’t find Pyp if he had gone. No, staying in our own familiar home with Connor and keeping up our routine as well as he could while looking for her was best for him.

    The way doesn’t seem as familiar as I thought it would be. In my mind, I thought I knew exactly what I had to do to go back. It was a comfort. Knowing there was somewhere to go back to if everything went wrong. It was a first. But now I saw how long it had been. How my memory had faded. Luckily we still had that map - so old it still had the sectors’ borders.

    The sun is suddenly gone and I’m in full darkness. My brights travel little space, just enough so I know I’m moving somewhere. I try to quiet my breathing, keep steady. I’ve been driving for hours, but there is still some way to go.

    I hear something in the car. Like a soft knock at the back. I take it for a rock from the road. It comes again the same way. I try to look at at the rearview mirror, but see nothing. Finally, a bang. My first reflex is to step on the brake with all of my strength. I didn’t know how fast I was going. My body is projected ahead, held back by the security belt. The car slips in all of the dirt.

    My head is spinning, but I get out of the car. I lift the gun in my hand, but I’m ready to make the whole world burn if this is a trap. Maybe Pyp didn’t go out on her own after all. Maybe they were back, they were all back. Maximilian and Evie and Paris and the Reestablishment and they would close the door and my children… Oh, my children, not them.

    I see movement and I shoot, muscle memory. I see a blur get out of the way and I hear whimpering. I feel sick. I hold back my powers with all of my might. I throw the gun to the side as if it was burning.

    “Connor?!” He’s hiding behind the car, curled up on himself, hands to his head. He starts to cry. My heart is racing. I look back at the road, then back at him. “Are you hurt? Did you follow me?!”

    He moves, but doesn’t look at me. He doesn't look hurt. Not physically, anyway. He looks at where the gun is on the ground. I walk to him, kneeling. He takes a step back and falls on his butt on the dirt. Fear. Of course he’s scared. I remember what it means being scared. Being scared of my parents, of the people who were supposed to love me the most. Being scared of older people with scary instruments, that would use it to hurt me with any chance they’d have.

    “Connor…”

    “I’m so-sorry. I’m sorry. I just- I just wanted to help Pyp. I’ll go back home. I’ll go back home right now!” He stutters through his sobs. His tears leave a trail in all of the road dust in his face. Before he stands up, I raise my hands as a sign of peace. I slowly get closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

    “Shhh. Shh, baby, it’s okay. It’s just me. It’s just mommy.” He looks at my hands and then at me, and it pains me to see his hesitation. Finally, Connor flashes to me, holding on to my waist, crying against my chest. I hug him back, a lump travelling up to my throat. “I’m so sorry I scared you. You scared me too, you were supposed to be with your dad.”

    “Why were you holding that?” He asked, eyes tightly closed.

    I hug him closer. Closer to me. If I could just absorb him back... Keep him safe like I had at the beginning. I would oh how I would protect my baby to the end of the world my small helpless baby that I had birth and nursed and bathed and fed and that I loved so much

    “Mom?”

    “There are people, Connor, who might want to hurt us.” I say slowly, what I should have said before. I was so set on making my kids happy, I didn’t realize I was making them careless. I wasn’t being a good mother, I was being a careless one. There Pyp was, lost for trusting too easy. And here Connor was, on his way to danger for his loyalty. Both great qualities, both could get them killed. “But I’ll never let that happen. Not to you and not to your sister. I’ll never risk it.”

    He pulls back, looking at my face.

    “You were a soldier.” He says and this much he already knows. I look around at the dark road and feel terribly exposed. Anything could come at us in this darkness.

    “Let’s get in the car, Connor.”

    “No! I want to know!” He holds my sleeves and keeps me in place. His voice travels through the night, to the empty fields. His eyes are the only green in sight. They fire at me, they search me whole. “Where are we going? Why can’t I know? I’m big now! I can help!”

    I hold his hands, one at a time. I press them slightly, avoiding his stare. I bring them to my lips and I nod.

    “Alright.” I say, defeated. “I was a soldier, yes. And so was your dad.”

    “Like Mrs. Gilbert’s sons?”

    “Different. We were… Important.”

    “Important?”

    I nod. I lean towards him, whispering cause there is no other way to do this and not throwing up.

    “We were the children of people who wanted a world no one could live in. We were made for destruction. For chaos, for killing. We have terrible powers, Connor, and we have done terrible things.”

    His eyes shoot everywhere. I can almost see the cogs working inside his brain, not nearly as fast as he needed them to be.

    “Then… Then what happened?”

    I can’t help but smile through my tears.

    “We found each other.”

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