#and I’m mourning a family that suddenly feels very small at a time of year when we’d normally be coming together

[cornedbeefhashtags]

🎄

[jwiseungoki]

Down Bad

(Jang Han Seok x Reader)

TW: age gap, force love, death, spoiled reader (this part doesnt have that much psychotic shit please tell me what to put as tw)

Context: Park Hae Rin has two elder brothers Park Hyun Sung and Park Hee Jin, as an only daughter she gets everything that she wants. Except for one thing: Jang Han Seok. Her brothers’ best friend, he sees her as a little sister but she sees him as a man. Every attempt to flirt with him, he dodges which frustrates her, Every woman that comes near him, she gets rid off and she wont rest until she calls him ‘mine’.

He’s back 

 

I didn’t mean to eavesdrop over my brothers talking inside Hyunsung’s home office. But when I heard his name, I froze, and suddenly this tingling feeling took over my whole body, leaving me smirking. 

 

Jang Han Seok 

 

Eldest son of Jang Guk Hwan, Chairman and Owner of Babel Group. He was sent to the States by his father years ago for studies and rehab because the boy has serious mental issues going on, but he is here now.

 

I fixed myself before innocently knocking on my elder brother’s office door. 

 

“Knock Knock, pretty face is here.” 

 

I said, opening the door, not waiting for my brother’s answer. Both of them have a frown on their eyebrows, looking at me like I did something to ruin their day. 

 

“Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Heejin, the middle child asked. I gave them both a smile before sitting on one of the leather chairs in front of the table. 

 

“I left early; Ms. Hong has some personal business to attend to,” I shrugged before grabbing a lollipop from the table. “So what chu guys talking about?” I smirked, waiting for a response from both of them. They looked at each other, eyes discussing whether they should or should not tell me. 

 

“Hanseok is back in Seoul and probably going to take over Babel." As expected, Hyunsung could never resist me. I put on a shocked face, like I didn’t overhear them. 

 

“Chairman Jang died last night in the hospital,” he added, and that escalated quickly. 

 

As a sign of respect, we went to the funeral. Our families were very close to each other even before our dads married our moms. Mr. Jang and our father were already best friends; their friendship will probably continue wherever they both are now. Dad died a year ago due to complications of the heart, while I never met our mother; she died giving birth to me. 

 

Which left Park Industries to the hands of Hyunsung, while Heejin acts as his subordinate. I don’t really care about inheritance, which is why I chose to pursue law. I’m working as an intern and assistant at Wusang with the help of my brothers, pulling some strings to get me to a trusted law firm. I’m the youngest one there. 

 

In the age of 24, I’ve known and achieved a lot. I was forced by my brothers to strive and aim for the top as the only daughter; all eyes were on me. I was an easy target for the media and people. They say I’m spoiled, a brat, and spoon-fed. 

 

Which is true.

 

I don’t run; I walk with grace to get the things I want. And I get EVERYTHING that I want. That’s why, learning that Hanseok is back, I need to pick up the pace and start the plan. 

 

To finally make him mine. 

 

“My condolences, Hanseo.” I tapped the younger Jang’s shoulder; he was oddly quiet and was staring into space for a long time before I approached him. For what I know, he and his father weren’t that close, casual, and civil, I suppose. But his action of mourning made me analyze that there was something. 

 

“Glad you can come; you’re not busy with cases?” He asked, tapping the seat next to him, and I sat beside him. “Not really; I’m just working on a small case with Ms. Hong. How are you holding up?” I asked, smiling at him a bit; he was about to answer when his eyes shifted to my legs and back to me. I looked down and saw no problem; was he checking me out? 

 

He then started to take off his black coat and place it on top of my lap. I should have guessed it; Hanseo was always the gentleman. Forgot to eat? Hanseo will remind you and bring you food. Frustrated and want to vent out? Hanseo will be there in 10 with chicken and beer. He’ll do the bare minimum thing, and I’d still be surprised. If I wasn’t in love with his brother, I'd fall for him, but there’s something about Hanseok that I want and can’t point out what. 

 

Speaking of Hanseok, I’ve not seen him anywhere. But then again, no one knows about him. Mr. Jang never publicized his sons; no one knew about his affair with his secretary that resulted in Hanseo; no one knew about Hanseok being sent to the states for being a psychopath; no one but our little circle. 

 

After catching up with Hanseo, I excused myself for some air. I made sure to double check my surroundings before pulling out the box of cigarettes and lighter. It was a habit that I picked up during law school, and vaping helped me a lot. 

 

“And since when were you allowed to smoke, princess?” 

 

That voice sent my entire body to freeze; I didn’t have to look to know who it was. Instead I took a hit before facing him with a smirk on my lips. Jang Hanseok gave me his signature smirk and brow raise, waiting for a response. 

 

“Hiding out here instead of mourning inside?” I asked, walking a little closer to him, finishing off my stick before throwing it on the ground. “What is there to mourn for? Man’s a dickhead.” He  chuckled. Wow, he is still fucked up, huh? 

 

But that aura just lit something in me, wrong but right at the same time. 

 

“Give me the pack,” he said, handing out his hand. I looked down at his hand, giving him a disgusted look. “I’m literally an adult; I think I am allowed to smoke,” I said, swatting his hand away. 

 

I was about to walk off, but he pulled my purse off my shoulder, opening it and getting the pack swiftly. “Hey! You can't do that! Give it back, Hanseok!” I yelled at him, trying to reach my bag and pack that he raised above his head. Even in heels, I still cannot reach it! 

 

“Fine! Have it, asshole.” I rolled my eyes before storming off, not caring if he has my purse with him. Good thing my jumpsuit has pockets. I had my phone with me. I called my Heejin and told him I’m heading home first. 

 

I’ve never felt this many butterflies while annoyed and frustrated. That man could literally do anything to me. 

 

 

•• 

 

“What do you mean you can’t get that testimony from the witness?! Then force him! Bribe him! Do whatever you need to do and report back to me immediately; Ms. Hong needs that to win the case.” 

 

I threw my phone on my desk, getting frustrated with the on-going Gyundo case. It’s a big fraud case that we need to get a win to prove that the trusted company is clean for the people to invest in and trust. They already paid a huge amount to Wusang, and the share that me and Ms. Hong will get from it is not a joke. 

 

“Ms. Park to my office now,” Mr. Han passed by my desk, and I immediately trailed from behind. Once in his office, I saw Ms. Hong sitting there wearing the same confused face as I am. She stood up, paying respect to our boss before he ordered us to take a seat as he stood in front of us.

 

“Ladies Firstly, congratulations on having the upper hand on the Gyundo case! Second, I will be assigning you two a very huge and big case the company will only push through if you win the Gyundo case. Lastly, we have a new intern, so Ms. Park.” 

 

He turned to me with a smile, making me nervous, and crept out, “You are now one of Wusang’s permanent lawyers. Congratulations on this promotion. You’re office will be ready in an hour.” 

 

“What?!” I said, shocked at the announcement. Ms. Hong let out an “oh my god,” shaking me by the arm, also amused by the news. 

 

“Yes, your hard work and dedication have been seen. We would like you to train the new intern; may I introduce to you Jang Joon Woo" Mr. Han opened the door to reveal another shocking surprise.

 

“What the fuck?” 

 

All eyes were on me, not expecting the words that came out of my mouth. “S-sorry, my apologies. I didn’t know the intern would be younger than me.” I lied, bowing a bit for respect. 

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ms. Park; you are still the company’s baby. Alright, then you go along and work. Take care of Mr. Jang." Mr. Han dismissed us; we bowed to him, and I was the first to storm off the door with Ms. Hong behind.

 

“Thank you, Boss!” 

 

Hanseok bid before I felt him following us. I stopped walking, making Ms. Hong hit my back. I faced her and smiled. “You go ahead, I’ll be back,” I said. “Are you okay? It’s like someone bought that limited edition Chanel bag that you always wanted,” Ms. Hong said, holding my cheek. 

 

“Yes, I’m fine; don't worry. I’ll meet you in your office,” I said, giving Hanseok a glare before walking away; he just had a confused look on his face. 

 

I can’t believe this! Why is he here?! And whats with the undercover gig?? Jang Joon Woo? What the fuck is he up to? After not seeing him for two months. I grabbed my phone that I left on my desk and started calling a certain person. 

 

“What the fuck is going on your brother’s mind?!” 

 

“Whoa, chill. I don’t know either, but I’m on the way to Babel; he appointed me as Chairman.” 

 

“Huh?!” I completely lost it as Hanseo’s words rang out in my ear. I massaged my temple; this can’t be! I can’t be working with the man I’m trying to get! 

 

I hang up on Hanseo and continue to grab my stuff before moving it to my own office. I didn't have the time to sink it all in; maybe I’ll celebrate later. I rushed towards Ms. Hong’s office with the Gyundo files, and to my surprise, Hanseok was still there, sitting on one of Ms. Hong’s wooden chairs. 

 

“Ms. Hong, we ha-“ 

 

“Shh! It’s Chayoung now; we’re both lawyers! So drop the formality; besides, its only a five-year gap,” Ms. Hong, well, Chayoung said before pulling me into a hug and giving me one of her brightest smiles. 

 

“You’re still my super-.“

 

“Eh! Shh! We are celebrating together! Later, on me. Okay?!” She cut me off again. I just nodded before setting down the files for her to review. 

 

“So we don’t have any testimony?” Chayoung asked, and I nodded. “According to the intern I sent in, the man does not want to talk to anyone associated with Gyundo; even the opposing party cannot get a statement.” I sighed, sitting on one of the chairs. 

 

I quickly glanced at Hanseok, who was watching us stress out; he looked back at me, and I raised a brow at him. 

 

“Any thoughts, intern?” I asked him not to break eye contact. Chayoung looked up from the papers, then to him, then to me. Hanseok smiled standing up before taking a glimpse at the file. 

 

“I think we should go for something that is very valuable to him so that we can get his testimony,” he suggested with a mischievous smirk, giving me an intense look. “Youre telling us we threaten him by using his family?” 

 

He just nodded; a smile crept on Chayoung’s face, liking the idea Hanseok proposed. “Wah! If that's the only way, then get started, Jang Joon Woo,” Chayoung said. I was left dumbfounded. Why are we suddenly playing dirty?!

 

Just like that, we won, and thanks to Hanseok’s idea, we got the testimony. I clenched on my purse as I walked out of the bar behind Chayoung. Hanseok was waiting for us with a smile. 

 

“Good job, ladies! Let’s celebrate?” He asked, and Chayoung was quick to respond, making the two look at me. “Fine! Let’s go; I’m quite peckish,” I said. Hanseok treated us to some pork belly and soju. I was lowkey getting irritated at how He and Chayoung are getting close; they have the same humor and interest, while I felt like I’m the third wheel. 

 

“When Haerin first came into the office wearing all Prada and Chanel clothes, I was star struck. An intern must have come from a very rich family. When I found out she came from generational wealth, I felt like she was the superior, but once I got to know her, she’s very calm and focused on the goal type of girl. You know she never took interest in anyone.” Then there is Chayoung, who is now a bit tipsy. “Okay, that’s enough. We’re driving you home,” I said, taking away her glass, but she swatted my hand. 

 

"Oh, I can still handle Haerin, Joon Woo! Cheers!” She said she was pouring drinks into mine and Hanseok’s glass; we had no choice, but in the end Chayoung got drunk, and I drove her car to her apartment with Hanseok in the backseat, completely sober. 

 

“She’ll be alright,” I said before locking up her apartment, pulling out my phone to call a driver since we came here with Chayoung’s car. 

 

“You haven’t spoken to me ever since that night." Hanseok spoke up while we walked to the elevator. "Well, I was going to call you about my purse, then you pulling some undercover shit in Wusang made you less interesting.” I shrugged. I saw him smirk. “Since when did I become less interesting to you, princess?” He said. 

 

He’s right, there won’t be a part of him that is not interesting. It feels like he knows that I have a keen interest in him. 

 

“Since you stepped foot into our house during your college days." I rolled my eyes; that was the day I first met him, and I took a liking to him. “Aw, don’t be silly. I know you adore me as one of your older brothers." He patted my head. Is he that oblivious? Hmm, I should step up my game. 

 

“Come on, I’ll take you home." He said, making me walk in front of him. 

 

••

 

The next day at work, I took an oath to make myself obvious to him, so when I saw him in Chayoung’s office working on a new case, I immediately called him to go to my office. 

 

“What?” He asked confusedly, and I pointed at the iced coffee on my desk for him. “It’s yours; I accidentally bought two,” I said, pretending not to care and proceeding to type words on my laptop. 

 

“And why give it to me instead of Ms. Hong?” He said but took a sip of the coffee, “Because you’re the only one I know here would enjoy an iced macchiato." He smirked and gave me a thanks before I dismissed him. 

 

“Whoa, why does he get lunch and I don't?” Chayoung wondered as I threw the takeout on the table in front of Hanseok, “What’s the update on the filler case?” I swerved the question, pretending to look at the papers. 

 

“Attorney Park! Did something happen between the two of you last night? Oh my God!” Chayoung said, covering her mouth and looking back at us. “What? No! Joon Woo mentioned he skips meals a lot, so I bought him lunch,” I said, looking at Hanseok. 

 

“A-ah yes! Thank you, Attorney. Uhm, I’ll eat now." He excused himself from breaking eye contact with me. I heard a cough from Chayoung, who was smirking, crossing arms, and nodding. 

 

“What? Why are you acting like that?” I asked, “Something happened!” She gasped and moved a little closer. “You two had sex in my apartment?!” I pushed her away from shock, “No! Oh my God, Chayoung! I’m too young for that,” I said, covering my ears. 

 

“Girl! You literally bagged an idol last time we went out clubbing; you’re not a virgin, hoe!” She laughed, throwing a piece of tissue at me. “But seriously, you never cared about Jang Joon Woo.” 

 

“Ugh fine! I like him, and I don’t just sit around waiting for guys to like me back,” I said, plopping myself on one of her chairs, pouting. She shrinks before asking me how and when I started to like him. I did not include the part that we knew each other before, and I felt so bad lying to her, but I also need to protect this stunt Hanseok is pulling. 

 

 

The day finally came to an end, and I was starving since I skipped lunch. I did it on purpose so I could ask Hanseok to accompany me. I went to his desk, where he was fixing his bag. I slammed my hand on his table, making him jump. 

 

“Haerin! You scared the shit out of me! What was that for?” He dramatically said. I rolled my eyes and leaned down. “Get up, we’re eating dinner,” I said before walking off. I felt him follow me with so many questions. 

 

We got to a Mexican restaurant since I wanted a burrito, and Hanseok ordered the same as me: “Cut to the chase princess, why are you suddenly being nice to me?” He asked, and I didn't answer him, but I continued to eat my burrito and nachos.

 

“I am talking to you right, princess?” He said putting down my food and grabbing my chin to make me look up at him, which, I’m not going to lie, made my stomach bounce inside me. 

 

“I just want to make it up; after all, we are all that we have,” I smirked. He wasn't expecting the last part, so he continued to eat. After dinner, he dropped me off at my apartment. After locking the door and throwing my heels off, I started to squeal and dance around. 

 

The car ride to Haerin’s apartment 

 

No one talked; complete silence engulfed the two, but Hanseok decided to break it. 

 

“The game you want to play, Princess, is very dangerous. Think twice about it before you get yourself trapped,” he said, smirking. 

 

I scoffed, so he caught on? He wasn't playing dumb but was just pushing the fact that I have interest in him.

 

“I know what I’m doing.” 

 

“So no backsies?” 

 

I rolled my eyes; he is such a child. 

 

"Yes, no backsies.” 

 

"Hmm, let’s see how you’re going to make me fall for you, Park Haerin.” 

[musketeers-brothersinarms]

Chapter One: The Crack of Dawn

The first rays of morning light touched the cold gray streets of Paris as the world woke up to meet a new day. Groggy store owners trudged out of bed to open their doors and await the early traffic, the clopping of horse hooves echoed as wagons were pulled along the streets, and windows flew open to let the chilly light into dark homes across the city.

As the sun slowly made its way across the sky, its rays peeked into the countless shimmering windows of the royal palace, whose turrets and towers glowed a rosy color in the dawn. Nestled in the middle of the palace grounds was the mess hall, where a small form stood mopping between long wooden tables and benches.

If you had happened to approach him, you would have seen a vigor in his movements, a sort of determined drive that most don't possess at 5 in the morning. He pushed his wet mop around the glistening marble floors, whistling quietly with a smile on his face. If you had come closer and leaned down, (quite far down as he was a very small creature) and looked under the floppy, beat up felt hat that he wore, you would have seen his excited button eyes and his round ears quivering at every sound. And if you got the chance to ask him his name, he would have introduced himself as Mickey Mouse.

But for the moment he was alone, working vigorously to scrub the floor clean, searching with practiced eyes for stains and smudges and swiping over them with a swish of his mop. It was easy to tell he had been doing this for years. A scruffy, sun bleached pair of overalls that were too big hung off of his shoulders, the straps sliding down his arms and making it difficult to work. A small bead of sweat trickled onto his cheek, but he hardly noticed in his concentration.

As he worked, the little mouse’s mind wandered a million miles away, drifting aimlessly between different thoughts, and so it was a few minutes before he realized that someone had walked quietly into the room and was watching him.

“Whatcha doing?”

Mickey turned in surprise to see his oldest brother standing in the doorway. “Julius!” he said happily. “I didn’t see you.” He looked out the window, seeming to notice the sun rising for the first time. “Wow, it’s already dawn.”

Part of Julius was surprised to see Mickey up at such an hour. He had always been the earliest riser of the three, but even he didn’t usually get up before first light. “Couldn’t sleep, huh. Something on your mind?”

Mickey paused as he dipped his mop into a sudsy bucket of water. “Well… it’s not that important I guess but…” he trailed off and looked into his reflection in the pail.

“...But?” Julius prompted.

Mickey ran the mop over a soot stain. “I’m just worried about the royal family. Or what’s left of it, that is.”

Julius nodded knowingly, as if they’d had this conversation many times before. “You're thinking about the princess," he said knowingly.

Mickey smiled slightly, a sheepish look on his face. “It’s just… she seems so ill-prepared to take over. I don’t mean she won’t be a good ruler,” he said quickly, “I just think she should be allowed more time to mourn her parents. They’re shoving all that responsibility onto her so quickly, I mean, her crowning is only in a week.” He dipped his mop in the bucket again, his brow furrowed. "I feel sorry for her."

Julius smirked slightly, his tail swishing mischievously. “You seem to think about Princess Minnie an awful lot,” he teased.

Mickey stuck his tongue out at the cat, but his face was pink. “She’s our leader, of course I’m concerned about her.”

Julius shrugged, smiling wider. “Of course.”

Mickey yawned suddenly, and his grip loosened on the mop handle for a second. Then he shook it off and stood up straighter. “Well, I'd better get back to work.” He slapped the mop back down on the tiles and scrubbed harder. “A janitor’s work is never done.”

Juilus’s smile dropped slightly. “You shouldn’t be pushing yourself so hard, Mick. How about we take a break and eat breakfast?”

Mickey hesitated, but then shook his head. “Cap’n Pete wanted this hall to be clean, and I don’t want to let him down.”

“We have plenty of time to finish this later today,” Julius retorted. “Stop trying to do everything yourself.” He held out his hand. “C’mon, you won’t be any good to me and Oz if you’re half starved.”

Mickey paused and looked out at the slick wet floors, and his shoulders slumped tiredly. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right.” Reluctantly, he picked up his mop bucket, careful not to slosh any water. “I just… don’t want to do a bad job.”

Julius glanced at his brother. “Are you sure Princess Minnie is the only thing on your mind?”

Mickey looked away as they walked out of the hall and said nothing.

Julius took the mop and rested it on his shoulder like a fishing pole. “You know you don’t have anything to prove to Captain Pete. You’re the best janitor this palace has ever seen.”

Mickey looked at his older brother uncertainly. “Better than you?”

Julius squinted his eyes into a mock frown. “Weell, not quite. Almost.”

Mickey smiled slightly. “I’VE never managed to set a stack of tablecloths on fire before.”

Julius nudged the mouse with a laugh. “We don't talk about that."

The two walked off down the large columned hallway together, making small talk with each other as the sky turned from rosy pink to blue. The palace murmured to life, and servants began to appear, running errands to and fro. Reaching the back of the hallway, the brothers ducked down a dingy stairwell that most would overlook, and ended up in a small but cozy servants quarters.

Three beds lined the far wall, while the left was occupied by a small table filled with books, various rags and buckets, and a couple of sketches of the palace grounds. A pair of muddy boots lay at the end of the middle bed, which was occupied by a sleeping lump buried under a frayed quilt. A melted candle in the corner did a poor job of illuminating the room, so Julius opened the shutters on a small window over the table, filling the room with chill air.

Mickey walked up to the lump and tugged on one of the long black ears poking out of it. "Oswald, wake up," he said. "We have to eat and get to work."

The lump moaned and curled up tighter. "Goway."

Julius sighed, as though this was all routine. "You know Captain Pete will have our hides if we don't start on the capes and boots in the washroom," he said pointedly. "We're already on bad terms with him."

The lump, after a moment of silence, heaved a sigh and shifted, rolling over so a grumpy face with a round black nose poked out near the pillow. "I don't like it when you're right," he said, sitting up unhappily.

Mickey had already grabbed a bucket of polish and a brush, and was waiting by the door. "Coming, slowpokes?" he asked.

Julius snatched a bucket of rags from the corner and nudged the small black rabbit emerging from the bed. "Yeah, yeah," Oswald griped, throwing on a pair of patched blue pants and some boots. "I'm coming. But we ARE going by the kitchen first."

"Of course," Julius said. "I hate seeing you hangry." Oswald made a face at him.

Mickey bounced up and down impatiently, anxious to get started. Julius watched him with a slight frown. Mickey was always a people pleaser, but even more so recently. He seemed awfully set on making Captain Pete as happy as possible. Maybe it could be... he sighed quietly. He hoped Mickey wasn't thinking of it again.

But looking into the mouse's shining eyes, watching the way he fingered the frayed brim of his hat without thinking, Julius knew it was exactly that. The dream of his, the dream all three of them used to share, was resurfacing. And every time it took hold, every time Mickey talked of them becoming musketeers together and fighting villains just like they always dreamed of doing... it hurt every time.

Because Julius knew, even if Mickey denied it and Oswald shrugged it off. They couldn't be musketeers. No one but well trained soldiers, sons of the nobility, members of higher class, became musketeers. And what were they?

Nobodys. Janitors of the lowest class. Try as he might, Juilus just didn't have the hope that his brothers held onto. That somehow, some way, they could become musketeers. He felt a knot in his chest as he thought of Mickey's dreams getting crushed, once again. But it was useless to try and talk him out of it. Once Mickey's heart was set on something, it was hard to shake him.

As the three walked past the courtyard gates together, Julius tried to ignore the sounds of chanting, steel clashing, and tromping boots that came from the drill yard. Don't get your hopes up, he thought. You can't be one of them. Don't be let down again.

But Mickey and Oswald nudged each other, their eyes shining, as they strained their ears to drink in every sound. Even Julius, though he wouldn't admit it, couldn't help feeling an excited flutter in his chest every time the thrilling cry was raised:

"All for one, and one for all!"

[icu3po]

Most of my nursing experience has taken place in acute care settings. I left hospital nursing in 2022, and have been in long-term care ever since. Overall, I’ve been a nurse for 8 years, working in healthcare for over 12, and I forgot the word “antecubital” yesterday. Not only did I forget it, but I forgot that there was even a word to describe that area of the body. I contented myself with “inner elbow” for my note and moved on.

I am trying to remind myself that when you stop working with IVs, there’s not a lot of reason to remember the word to describe anybody’s antecubital area, but still… Once I recalled the word, it was like an area of my brain suddenly lit up, and memories of a part of me that hadn’t existed moments earlier was suddenly reactivated. I was shaken. I’m very humbled right now, because I feel like I had a VERY SMALL glimpse into what it must feel like to have Alzheimer’s.

It might not be that my residents are struggling to remember things all the time, but more that they’re constantly forced to confront the fact that they have forgotten things they don’t even remember forgetting. I feel like there’s a greater loss than I had assumed.

For example, if you’re trying to come up with a word and it’s right on the tip of your tongue, you at least have the reassurance that there IS a word and it DOES EXIST and you used to KNOW it and you CAN know it again. But what if somebody introduced themselves to you one day and you suddenly remembered that they are your daughter… that you have a daughter… that you forgot your daughter. And you suddenly remember the day they were born and it becomes fuzzy as they get older in your memory but you know there MUST be memories from birth until now that are gone. You were fine a moment ago, not knowing you had a daughter. But now…

You’d be constantly mourning the loss of your life with every spark of a memory. Would you resent being confronted with the truth? Or grateful to have that spark reignite for a moment? Would you start to remember but it’s too overwhelming to accept so you turn away and choose to avoid the triggers, becoming upset and acting out until those strangers (your family) stop coming around anymore. They tell themselves it’s okay because you don’t remember anyway. You tell yourself it hurts too much to remember so they should stay away.

Just musing on a Saturday, feeling very humbled to have the brain that I have, knowing how delicate of an organ it is based on how quickly it can turn against you.

[brawltogethernow]

How would you, personally, go about writing a plot where twenty-something Dick Grayson has to take care of suddenly-deaged-to-just-after-his-parents'-deaths Bruce, who doesn't remember anything of his adult life? (I mean, other than Necessary Alfred.)

Well, the part of this concept that can really sock you in the face is. Dick knows exactly what Bruce needed to hear right after Martha and Thomas died.

Bruce, though not lacking for people trying to take care of him, did not get what he needed after becoming an orphan. He grew up, and he made the best of things, and he thought about what he needed from the world and didn’t get, and he became that, and that’s Batman, and that’s Bruce Wayne. When he saw a kid go through trauma very similar to his own, he had an entire playbook written by his own suffering and fixer tendencies ready to go. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best thing in the world for Dick Grayson short of his family spontaneously coming back from the dead, and things were good for a long time.

And now Dick Grayson, age, I don’t know, maybe the same age Bruce was when they met to intensify the parallels, has this playbook memorized. So.

Brief, miscellaneous scenario that’s about to cause the de-aging, to establish adult Bruce’s voice. He is motivated and capable with a strong sense of deadpan humor, and there is a large mishealed wound at his core. He is aware of this. He is used to working around it. He isn’t even that bitter about it, most of the time. Basically any supporting cast members filling out the scene could be interesting, so lacking an established roster to pull from you can use anybody. I think I'd use heroes who aren’t in the Batfam - characters with their own concepts of Batman but who don’t all know Bruce’s entire life story from a personal or Gothamite perspective. Dick is not present.

So something goes zam or zap or “Go back to your beginning, hero!” —Actually yeah, I like someone using magic to try to turn Batman into a baby but the symbolism catching wrong and rewinding him to when Batman was “born” instead. Some heavy-handedness is good with DC.

Elementary age Bruce Wayne is deeply unsettling. He intuits most of the situation without assistance or effort. He also doesn’t care. You can’t expect a pile of shattered glass to care about some sci-fi nonsense suddenly happening. He is a million years old. He hates you. He should be dead, they shouldn’t be dead, nothing is right. Breathing hurts, or, doesn’t, but should. It’s unconscionable that it doesn’t hurt to breathe. This child's despair is actively uncomfortable to be around. The grit of a nascent Batman grants him immunity to being comforted by the surrounding gaggle of semiprofessional child comforters. —I’m of the opinion that Bruce Wayne was probably a weird child to match the weird adult he grew up into, just initially happy about it, which I’d gun to make clear in his reactions even with the bottomless agony.

You could also snug a very traumatizingly timed identity reveal moment in here if somebody was tagging along who can go, WHY do I recognize this face from old news... WAIT.

Now Dick can show up. To a JL workroom, or the batcave, or maybe the manor, because I would want to demonstrate that Alfred is well versed in this and is sent back to a not great mental place by it. The old coping methods rise easily to hand even after decades, but he feels he never properly figured out how to fix the problems Bruce had in this period instead of just working around them. Eventually Bruce started working around Alfred’s inability to help. —But anywhere you put that sequence seems like it would drag the pacing.

So Dick shows up, and he crouches down with his characteristic gymnast’s fluidity, and he puts his hands on this kid’s shoulders, and he says...something. It’s not going to be okay. How could this ever be okay? The people assuring you it will aren’t trying to lie to you, there just aren’t words for this. But you can stop this from happening to anyone else. Opening with a conscious deployment of Bruce’s own words from a decade and then some ago, because Dick has always understood this element of their dynamic.

Except then he’s touching this real child who is warm under his hands and small. The shoulders under Dick’s hands are bony, which is a brain-meltingly irreconcilable detail with adult Bruce Wayne the meat slab. When Dick says, “My parents were killed when I was your age, too,” it’s a completely unintentional verbatim quote that crawls up out of his throat like a toad in a fairy tale. He hates that; he has a whole snarled up capital-T Thing about unconsciously parroting Bruce. But also it’s not like he’s going to stop comforting the actual child who now has a complicated look in his eyes—like he was drowning and then Dick threw him a life preserver and told him to hang on until they get to land because it’s impossible to reel him back up to the boat.

So then we go to the manor, and finally get to do some domestic nonsense, but hideous. Ugly conversations about coping and grief in your socks in the kitchen—when your parents just died, the sentence “The weather looks bad” is about your dead parents—because Alfred is coping by airing out whatever rooms Bruce used when he was smol he doesn’t now so hard you’ll never know they were shut up, which leaves Dick free to feed the child a fortifying dinner of instant oatmeal. (Mourning and food have a complex relationship, and I don’t feel food you actively enjoy is always a good choice!) This process involves Dick walking on the counter unnecessarily, which entertains Bruce for a quarter second before he’s swamped by guilt at having the audacity to enjoy something.

It’s miserable, but there’s a distinct glimmer of something promising under the murk. There’s this building surety that this could lead to something good. Bruce gave Dick the tools he needed to heal once, and as an adult Dick could repay that to this version of Bruce with interest.

And then Bruce pops back to normal, because that’s not how time works, with all of the ways that his emotional wounds healed wrong and healed open intact. But also with this Escher-like doubled recollection of the most formatively terrible point of his life, a short new version layered over the original that was pointing distinctly in a direction that would have sucked less.

[silverflame2724]

Happy Prompt (if you feel like it): WWX being the genius/ex first disciple of great scet that he is realizes they can't sustain the Burial Mounds. So he comes up with a Plan to make them all dissappear. Knowing how important lineage is so them, he asks them to give up the Wen name and take up Wei. (The wens are mostly common folk who just want to live so they agree). He the proceeds to hide them among other clans. People who have met and remember all the good young master Wie always did. He hides them among the Jiang and Nie. (I always head cannon that part of WWX'S flirty reputation comes from him helping women who are in bad situations/ NHS somehow finds out/knows and begins to help him. I figure theyhad to get several Lan women out. Mama Lans ghost helps?). JC knows but ignores it, they aren't WENS anymore, so his pride can leave it be. I'm not sure if A'yuan would still end up with Lan Zhan? But then WWX, WN, and WQ all fake thier deaths and go travel as rogue cultivators. But now WWX has all these living and dead people praying to/for him as the patron Saint of lost causes? And he accidentally becomes an immortal without realizing it? To the absolute fond disgust of WQ, of course. Anyway, I figure old Jin perv still pulls his bullshit at a discussion conference and between NHS, JYL, and LWJ? They somehow clear everyone's nsme. And then newly immortal WWX rocks up in there (to the horror of the Lan Elders who now have to face thier own bullshit/ hypocrisy) and lives happily ever after.

I think I read a prompt or a fic somewhere with the concept of the Wens hiding in plain sight.

________________________

The thought came to him out of nowhere. 

It had been a peaceful day with the Wens as he farmed, invented and tinkered with various incomplete contraptions when Wei Wuxian was struck with a thought: they could not continue like this.

Wei Wuxian wasn’t an idiot. He knew that they couldn’t sustain themselves in the Burial Mounds. Their crops hardly prospered, one by one the more elderly individuals of the Wens got sick and died, the resentful energy messed with everyone’s temperament, the cultivators never stopped trying to break his wards.....the list went on and on.

He had to come up with a plan. He thought they could live here for a time, but that was just wishful thinking. 

With this in mind, he takes the next few days to come up with a concrete plan.

...............................

The first task, and perhaps the most important one, is to ask the Wens to give up the Wen name. It would be easier from then on.

As he presented this suggestion, he was surprised by how readily they agreed. He knew how important lineage was to them, so the rapidness of them giving up their name was shocking. 

“Would you......take up my name?” Wei Wuxian asked quietly. 

The Wens were silent before cheering. Wei Wuxian didn’t know how to react to this. The Wens told him that they were more than happy to accept his name since they were his family. 

Wei Wuxian held back the tears and laughed happily instead as he went on to tell him the next plan of action: hiding them in plan sight.

Various people from various clans owed him favors and remembered the good in him, as they were more than happy to take on the refugees he hid away now that they were no longer Wens.

They had to do this quietly and slowly though. It would be suspicious if a large group of people suddenly left Yiling all at once. So Wei Wuxian took each of them to different places. Some of them went back to their original homes, some went to the Nie, some to the Yao, some to the Ouyang clan. 

He even sends some to the small village of women who he helped run away from their horrible home situations.

It was a little tricky with Nie, but Nie Huaisang pulls through and Nie Mingjue suspects nothing.

He sends some to the Jiang and Jiang Cheng grudgingly accepts them, knowing that they are no longer Wen. 

And for A’ Yuan.......He sends A’ Yuan to Lan Zhan, who is familiar with A’ Yuan. Wei Wuxian sends a letter to Lan Zhan asking him to meet and instead of appearing, A’ Yuan is there in his stead. The letter to Lan Zhan details what to do with A’ Yuan and to hide his identity.

Wei Wuxian trusts that Lan Zhan would take his suggestion and tell his brother and uncle that A’ Yuan was a child that Lan Zhan was asked to take care of by a dying mother.

Wei Wuxian watches from afar as Lan Zhan takes A’ Yuan away and takes the last step in ensuring that the cultivation world forgets him: He fakes his, Wen Qing’s and Wen Ning’s deaths. There’s enough corpses in the Burial Mounds and ones with their physique to replace the Wens and him. He gossips to the town that he’s going to destroy his weapon, the Seal, and subsequently fakes an explosion of resentment, quickly disappearing with the Wen siblings to a random direction. 

He always thought how nice it would be to be like his parents and be rogue cultivators. He guesses that he’ll find out now.

..................................

Years pass and Wei Wuxian makes decent salary by taking care of monsters in the area. Wen Qing is a doctor, of course, and Wen Ning becomes her assistant.  

They move to a little village near Dongying and settle down there. The people there a little more open to demonic cultivation and dark arts and don’t bat an eye at Wei Wuxian using such means. 

Wei Wuxian invents more contraptions, selling them under a false name in towns far away from Dongying.

One day, on a chance night hunt near Yunmeng, Wei Wuxian hears whispers and gossip about Nie Huaisang, Lan Wangji and Jiang Yanli clearing his name and capturing the actual people responsible. 

He’s happy to hear this. Overjoyed. But that doesn’t mean he’ll gladly return to the cultivation world. He’s had enough of that life. 

He walks around town for a bit longer, catching bits of gossip here and there. As explores the town, wine jug in hand, he nearly chokes around a mouthful of wine as he sees a small shrine encasing a statue of his likeness. What.....the hell??

He quickly asks around and finds out that people are praying to him for protection. Wei Wuxian squirms a little at this, glad he’s wearing a weimao to cover his face. 

All of this...praying makes him uncomfortable. Not long ago, people were spitting on his name and now he’s suddenly become some sort of Patron for protection? The change is remarkable and cements Wei Wuxian’s decision to firmly stay out of the cultivation world. 

People’s opinions change like a tide and Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to stick around long enough for them to switch back. He sighs, disposing of his empty jug, and leaves the town.

.......

Surprisingly, that’s not the end of the changes. 

He got careless on a night hunt and ends up with the claw of a yaoguai piercing him all the way through his stomach. When the yaoguai pulled out its claw, though......Wei Wuxian healed quickly. Too quickly.

He recovers from the shock at this and finishes off the yao.

What just happened?

.

.

A quick trip to Wen Qing answered everything.

“Congratulations.” Wen Qing says dryly. “You’re an immortal.”

“........What.”

Wen Qing sighs, “From what you told me, you healed unnaturally quickly, right?”

Wei Wuxian nods. 

“There have only been records of immortals recovering that quickly. Even Wen Ruohan healed slower than you did.”

“But I don’t have a core???”

“You do. Sort of.” Wen Qing replies. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t you felt it.”

“.....” I mean, I did think it was odd that I didn’t freeze to death in the winter or die of hunger when money became tight over these years, but I thought those were side effects of demonic cultivation! Wei Wuxian quickly goes through the motions of feeling for his core, willing the surge of hope he felt down. 

And he......didn’t feel a core. He felt more of a large mass of energy congregated in his dantian.

Wei Wuxian is glad that he is sitting down right now because he feels very faint.  “But.....this......how?” 

“Hmm. Well, from what I’ve been hearing, you’ve become some sort of Patron Saint?” Wei Wuxian nods. “It’s rare, but cultivators can gain power from prayers. Take Wen Ruohan for example.”

“He became powerful through the same means?”

“Yes. Well, his people believed him to be all powerful, not so much as what people are praying to you. As the Sunshot alliance chipped down on his people, so too did they chip down on Wen Ruohan’s power.”

“So if people stop praying to me, I’ll stop being immortal.”

“Yes and no. Right now, there’s just a mass of energy concentrated there. It’s basically unrefined energy. All you have to do is refine that power into a core and cultivate normally. Otherwise, yes. You will lose this power as soon as people stop praying to you.”

“I see.......”

Wen Qing raises an eyebrow and brandishes her needles. “What are you doing just sitting here? Go and cultivate!”

“Aiya, Qing-jie! I’m in shock here, give me a moment to absorb this all!”

“I have patients to see! Get your ass to your room and cultivate!”

“Are you my mom or something?”

Wen Qing’s expression turns thunderous.

Wei Wuxian didn’t want to provoke her any further despite wanting to banter more and left to his room.

..................................

“You should visit your siblings.” Wen Qing says one day. “And Hanguang-Jun. I want to hear about how A’ Yuan is doing.”

“Where did this come from?”

“Wei Wuxian.” Wen Qing says patiently. “It’s been over a decade. Your name and our name has long since been cleared. People no longer hate you. And.....they miss you. Your siblings have commemorated the day you “died” and go into mourning for that day. Hanguang-Jun is a little subtler but he wears a mourning sash now.”

“They’ll be better off without me.”

“Says who?”

“The rest of the world.” Wei Wuxian says weakly.

“And why should you care for their opinion? You never seemed to mind it.”

“Ummm.....Lan Zhan hates me? Jiang Cheng might resent me? And Shij---Jiang-guniang---the Young Madam Jin has a life already.”

“First, if Hanguang-Jun hates you, why would he frequently glare at people who badmouthed you?”

“Because he’s a good person. How do you know this anyway?”

“I have friends. Try again. Hanguang-Jun is a famously reticent person. Would he do this for every person?”

“.........I don’t know.”

“The answer is no.”

Wei Wuxian pouts.

Wen Qing then begins to tell him how Jiang Cheng frequently takes demonic cultivators back with him in hopes that one of them would be Wei Wuxian and even added Wei Wuxian back to the Jiang sect register. Jiang Yanli smiles while ruthlessly talking people into apologizing every time she hears something bad said about Wei Wuxian.

She even lectures him on his feelings towards Lan Wangji, that he would entrust A’ Yuan to him.

Wen Qing closes off her speech with threats of her needles if Wei Wuxian doesn’t get his ass over there.

“There’s a Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian, wait till they’re done and go meet them.”

Wei Wuxian, sufficiently threatened, hightails it back to what was his home.

.......

Wei Wuxian also decidedly forgets that he was supposed to wait for the Conference to end. Well, he had assumed that they would be done considering the empty state of the area in front of the conference room and stupidly bursts through the door to a room full of people.

Wei Wuxian blinks, “Uhh......”

“Wei Wuxian?!”

“Wei Ying?!”

“A’ Xian?!”

Wei Wuxian tittered from side to side, “Hello, all! I bet you thought I was dead! Well, you guessed wrong! Hahaha......”

..............................

Lan Wangji did not know what this time’s discussion conference would be like. He expected Jin Guangshan to try and subtly slander Wei Ying. He expected Jiang Yanli, Jiang Wanyin and himself to stand up for Wei Ying, as he was unable to do before Wei Ying died.

But he certainly didn’t expect Wei Ying, who he thought was dead, burst into the room.

Everyone was silent as soon as they heard Wei Ying speak, but soon burst into a cacophony of noise.

Continuing the Discussion Conference was futile after that and it was quickly closed. Lan Wangji watched Wei Ying be surrounded by many people, some crying, some happily angry, some exasperated and he couldn’t help his reaction after seeing him once again.

He rushes forward and hugs him.

“Wha--Lan Zhan?”

“You’re alive.” Lan Wangji breathes, voice full of wonder. “You’re alive.”

Wei Ying’s arms come up around him and Lan Wangji feels the strong heart beat through their robes. His elders yell at him for his shamelessness and he comes back to himself, embarrassed at his lack of control.

“Aww, Lan Zhan! I’m so glad you missed me!”

“Mn. Missed Wei Ying a lot.”

A slight blush rose to Wei Ying’s cheeks and he laughed, a little shy. Lan Wangji couldn’t help his response to hearing his laugh again after so, so long. He kissed him.

The crowd gasped around them and Lan Wangji pulled back quickly, wanting the ground to swallow him up. But then......Wei Ying kissed him back.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan. How bold of you! To steal a kiss from me in public!” He giggles, not seeming mad at all and even pressing forward, tangling his fingers in his forehead ribbon.

Lan Wangji’s breath stutters at the gesture.

“You’d better take responsibility!”

Is Wei Ying asking what I think he’s asking? “Responsibility?”

“Yes! You took a kiss from me in public! It looks like I can’t marry anymore.”

“Will marry Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji replies, voice hoarse, ignoring the cries of outrage from his elders, the angry shouts from Jiang Wanyin, and the smirks from Jiang Yanli and his brother. “Will take responsibility.”

“I hope that isn’t the only reason.”

This is his chance to come clean. Lan Wangji already told himself that he wouldn’t hold himself back if he met Wei Ying again. “Like Wei Ying. Love Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying laughs brightly. “I like Lan Zhan too. Now, you’ll finally admit we’re close?”

Lan Wangji ignores everyone, eyes only on Wei Ying as they should have always been, “Mn. Let’s get married.”

___________________________

I feel like Lan Wangji may be a bit OOC......hmm. Well, whatever. I finally got this done and with that, I think I’ve cleared all the prompts I haven’t answered, so asks will open up again!

Hope you all enjoyed this!

[annmarcus63]

GIVE US TO HIM

Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion

Warning: this might hurt a little

on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/34157128

Grandma said once that to give away your raw score is forbidden.

"Your heart in it's full rawness, chaos, is a precious and dangerous thing. Never you should do something as giving it to someone else."

"But our ancestors used to do it. Look ma ¡look!" said Jaskier holding his story book on the air for grandma's tired eyes to see. A handsome knight was lying on the dry grass, dying from a wound on his stomach. He started calling for his love, an ancient fae with blond hair and fair skin. She fell upon the prairie from the charged clouds, with something shiny between her hands. The fae feed the wound with her raw core, her heart. The knight lived along side her, flying amongst the starry night, happily ever after. "This are just stories, Julian" said Grandma with contened anger in her dry voice. She took the book and close it on her thighs "Things were rarely like that. Knights and kings are more inclined to use our cores against us and other people. We can't recover from that loss" Julian look at the drawing on the coverbook, the fae was kneeled by a pond and the knight stood glorious in practically all the cover, leaving a very small space for the real hero, the one who save the life of the protagonist.

"Never give your raw core away. Stop reading these, THEY wrote this, Julian, you must be clever than her" said Grandma pointing at the beautiful fae. Julian nod, undesrtanding much more that he wanted to, and so little, so so little. Maybe that was the reason his family were hiding, they never express it in a literal way, that was the point really, but Julian notice anyway. The way, for example, of how they said their names and the rust taste that was left on the air after. It was common to hide their real names for fae, but you'd give that name knowing it's false, on the opposite when you say the false name thinking is the real one then another fae would know. Losing the self was something of a disease between the fae. Jaskier later knew that his parents have not choice but to lose themselves to save the lineage. Most fae really. Humans did that. Like they did to the elfes. Julian promise to never forget about the fae from his last storybook. He'll never forget about her sacrifice and the sacrifice of his people. But come on, after some years it was just naturally that, despite the wound on the history, a selfish creature he was and he forgot. He was raised as human, and he wanted to be a bard oh how he want it. And he did accomplish that, and a bloody good one that's for sure. Fae were extinct for all the world and that wasn't a cover, they're doomed to extinction sooner or later. It has been years since the last time Jaskier felt another fae being born. He is Jaskier troubadour, master of the seven liberal arts a mastermind amongst the crowds, a legend…an idiot most of the time basically.

What grandma failed to mention is that for a fae to be able to give their core away the recipient must be worthy at the eyes of the fae. Once this worthiness makes evident, that person would plant roots in the core itself, whether the fae want it or not. It's inevitable. Grandma should have said "be aware of where you place your heart. Hold it until you're fully sure of them" But well, it wouldn't have matter in the end. Jaskier have never being someone who follows advice, much less from his dead relative. It happened naturally, like breathing, eating and shitting. One moment he was standing next to Geralt under a pouring rain, the witcher kept looking for a missing girl on the edges of the woods, her parents place a bounty on the towns board, they couldn't offer payment in form of crowns but they're willing to let them sleep on the girl’s room. Jaskier became indignant, how a witcher is supposed to take a payless bounty? No, that is unacceptable. But despite the protesting bard and zero reward whatsoever Geralt went anyway, he look for a girl who surelly was already dead.

"I found her body near the cave by the pond. You can go for her by morning when it's safe. I'm sorry" after a minute of silence the parents with equal expression of cold sorrow release a heavy sigh charged with so much grief.

"What did it?" asked the father

"Nekkers. I got rid of the pack living there"

"Thank you, witcher. You and your bard can come in, i'm sure you're exhausted” Said the mother with great effort, like someone who can't breathe quite well.

Geralt rapidly added "No, I'm sure you and your husband need time to resign and mourn alone. My bard and i already had another place to stay" Eh, no they didn't.

"But...we don't have any crowns"

"I didn't do this for payment" And while the parents thanked infinitely to Geralt, Jaskier felt something wild and untamed surging from his chest. Reaching unabashed for the witcher with a big golden heart standing next to him, explaining to a mourning parents that he went to search for their lost daughter because he wanted to help. This new awareness of chaos, he knew what it was.

Chaos, core, raw.

And it had marked Geralt as his. We want him.

Give us to him. He's worthy.

He was doomed, so doomed from the very beginning since they encounter each other on Posada. Grandma tried to warn him of this. Oh grandma, you and i both know that I was never obedient or wise. So Jaskier let it happen, four years after knowing the witcher and his raw core already belong to him. But he didn't do it. He hold back despite the urgency on his chest because he wasn't sure it'll be welcome. Geralt was still trying to get rid of him in every town, sometimes Jaskier felt like a pet you don't want but you can't abandon it either. Surely there'd be a time in the future. And Jaskier wait and fell in love deeply with each passing year. And Geralt...well he was the same and also different in his own way, more at ease around him, softer maybe. Jaskier didn't need to be call a friend to felt like one to Geralt. They're friends, even if one part has being in denial for the past decade.

And then the djinn happened follow by the complicated affair with one Yennefer of Vandenberg. The curse caused the core to retreat afraid and wounded. He hurt us, he wished to hurt us. Jaskier argued with the voice that it wasn't his intention, he didn't even know he was the one with the wishes. In truth his heart shattered not for the wish but for the easiness in which the sorceress become someone important to Geralt, something to hold on to even if drowning. One decade and still Jaskier thinks he haven't reached that relationship level with his friend.

He doesn't want us

No.

"Uhmm?"

"What?"

"You said no"

"Oh, it's nothing" Geralt didn't ask again

But weak and in love he was, the raw core and him reached out again, with fully open arms for Geralt to pull. Jaskier long to belong to him, oh how he did.

Yennefer and her shining imbecile knight join the hunt and he was jealous because as soon as she appear the witcher was drooling as if she was all he needed to shut down the darkness inside.

Don't you know? inside me there's a full light waiting for you to hold

At the softness of the afternoon Jaskier found Geralt sitting on a rock lost, as usual, in though. But this time were different, he had failed three people, Borch's dead has left a wound that surely would scar badly. And the bard felt a deep sadness for his golden heart witcher. He's definitely blaming himself for the fall, for that narrow and insecure path alongside the mountain as if he was the one to build it.

Jaskier asked him to come with him to his home, to the coast, he yearn to be there with him and feel the sea wind on their faces while walking by a cliff near a quiet village that Geralt wouldn't mind to visit.

We want to be his.

Give us to him.

We can love him better.

But Geralt didn't want him, he wanted Yennefer.

He give himself to him anyway.

"Here" said Jaskier putting a hand on Geralt's thigh, surprise, instead of flinching away Geralt held Jaskier's hand and with most carefulness took what was inside the palm. A small glass vial, similar to the ones where he pours his potions. He held it on his gloved open hand. There was something inside, warm and inviting. White, almost yellow that make Geralt felt calm and safe.

"What's this?"

"A gift. It'd take care of you" Geralt frown at him, confused and uncertain of what it meant, but he took it with a barely there smile only for Jaskier to see.

He's a coward, he couldn't confessed him the reality of what it meant because he was terrified of being rejected, grandma said that a rejection is so devastating that it might kill him. And even at this point in their friendship Jaskier couldn't know for sure.

It's me. Take me, i'll protect and save you if needed to. Have me, please have me.

Geralt went that night at Yennefer's tent and Jaskier felt glad for not having told him the truth

"If life could give me a blessing it would be to take you off my hands"

No, no, not now.

They're doing fine.

And then very fast very suddenly Geralt reached for his breast pocket to held the vial of raw core on his fist and toss it unceremoniously to the hard soild.

The noise of shattered glass invaded Jaskier's ears before the heavy blankness surged from his chest to every corner of him.

“No, no, no” said he, giving a fumbling step towards the vial but deciding to turn around instead.

Away away away away.

He can't see me like this.

Something was tearing in fine lines caused by the trembling, an earthquake from his very bones that were fighting on maintaining their solid formation. Something inside was bawling with such and intensity that make his ears bleed.

Was this dying? let it be death for he can no longer take it. Does breathing always hurt this much? like if his lungs were filled with wool and the air only add heaviness on them. What was this? a beating heart, so afraid so betrayed, like a laugh from his ancestors. He wanted to throw up his intestines, they're on fire, but when he tried only saliva flood. He was not himself anymore, and to become whole was an impossibility that the pain was making sure off. Dirt get inside his mouth, his cheek on the ground was getting cut by rocks. A voice calling for him to react, to say something. But he no longer have a voice, he was death itself preparing for a long dream.

I’m sorry grandma.

I'm sorry, said to himself

and he remembered the blond fae on the cover book between grandma's hands, of how she give her life to save her love one, but who'd give their life for her?

who'd give their life for him?

He needed to sleep, right here on the mountain ground, to become whole again or at least half whole.

He begged for death instead.

[fixations-and-obsessions]

Take Me High

Warnings- Smut, Oral F!/Receiving

Summary- You aren’t feeling well on Zemo’s plane and he comes to help you in the bathroom.

A/N- It has been a long time since I’ve written so I’m sorry. 

Word Count- 2k

Sam and Bucky are your best friends in the whole world. You would do anything for them. Which was why you were stepping onto this plane with both of them- and Zemo. It was definitely not the ideal situation, but it was the best one you had. You trust that Sam and Bucky wouldn’t steer you wrong.

You had to admit you were very impressed with the luxury you were receiving. You snuggled more comfortably into your chair and let out a content sigh.

“Comfortable?” Zemo questioned.

You eyed him to see if there was any intended malice. Zemo offered a very gentle smile that sent warmth into your cheeks. You brushed it off as the lovely champagne you were supplied with upon entering.

“Yes, very. Thank you,” you averted your eyes feeling very self-conscious suddenly.

Zemo raised his eyebrows slightly. He was shocked to receive thanks.

Things were oddly easy with Zemo. There was pleasant conversation, even a few laughs and smiles. You couldn’t help but be grateful for his company. Everything had changed after the battle with Thanos. You lost Natasha and Steve who were two people that you loved dearly and were very close to. None of it was easy. No one ever talks about it but mourning is hard work. It’s messy, painful, and draining. And you mostly had to do it by yourself. Bucky had gone off to deal with the broken pieces of his life. Sam had left to see his family and work things out with them. Then there was you. And it was too much.

Somehow talking to Zemo and having Sam and Bucky chime in made you feel less alone. You were starting to ache less. You craved that.

Helmut was also enjoying himself as much as he’d hate to admit it. After being in a prison cell for years, this luxury and the company was much appreciated. Especially you. Helmut found himself always being drawn back to you. Even in silence. Even when someone else was speaking, his eyes would find you and watch how your face lights up when you smile at your friends.

“-my dad was so mad at me,” Sam smiled and chuckled at the story he was recounting for us.

Zemo quietly excused himself after laughing at Sam’s story. He briefly said something about checking with the pilot and catching up with the staff.

You stared out the window watching the clouds underneath you for a while. You thought back to Steve and Natsha and your heart felt heavy once again. You bit your tongue to try to get your mind back to you. It helped some but you were still feeling overwhelmed.

You stood up and smoothed out your shirt, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

Bucky must have seen the odd look on your face because he asked if you were alright.

“Yeah, I’m just feeling a little nauseous from the plane. I’m going to splash some water on my face and be in an enclosed space with no windows for a bit.” Technically it wasn’t a lie because looking out the window did make your stomach a little uneasy earlier.

Bucky nodded and you ducked out to the small bathroom. You locked the door behind you and pressed your back to it. Closing your eyes for a moment, a tear slid down your cheek unprompted. You cursed at yourself and wiped at your face. You opened your eyes and pushed yourself off the door. Placing your hands on the sink counter made you feel better because of the inviting bite of the cold. You turned on the faucet and splashed some water on your face.

You let your hands stay on your face for a moment before returning them to the side of the sink and staring into the mirror. Deep breath in through your nose. Deep breath out through your mouth. You continued doing this.

Zemo emerged back into the main area of the plane. He looked at your vacant seat and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Where is Y/n?”

Sam looked up at him, “She’s in the bathroom, I don’t think she’s feeling well.”

Zemo nodded, “I have something that can help her,” he disappeared for a moment and came back with some pills and a water bottle. He knocked on the bathroom door. “Y/n, I have something that will help.”

The knocking on the door startled you. You turned off the faucet and took a look at yourself. You fix your hair a bit before you unlock and open the door.

Zemo slides in and shuts the door behind him. “I brought you this to help with the nausea,” He held out his hand with two pills in his palm.

You reach out to take the pills from him and your fingertips touch his palm. You gasp quietly and recoil your hand the tiniest bit. You hope he doesn’t notice but you allow your eyes to glance up at his to see that his are already trained on you. He seems to search your eyes for a moment. You avert your eyes and take the pills for his hand confidently this time.

His other hand reaches out to offer you the water bottle. You take it and open the cap. Taking a swig of the water to wet your throat, your eyes meet Zemo’s. You take a second sip and pop one of the pills in your mouth and swallow. You do the same with the second one. You haven’t broken eye contact with Zemo yet. However, it’s not intense or threatening, or even challenging.

Your hands shake slightly trying to put the cap back on the water bottle. Helmut’s eyes fall to your trembling hands. He reaches out and cradles your hands.

“Here, let me.”

Although his eyes are focusing on your water bottle, you stare awaiting the return of his eyes to yours. He looks up and smirks handing it back to you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly and sincerely.

He huffs, “You are always thanking me, darling. What for this time? The pills or closing the water bottle?

You swallow dryly, “everything.”

Helmut smiles at you and bows his head before taking a step towards the door.

“Wait,” you say louder than you’ve spoken since you’ve been in here. You reach out and grab his hand that is closest to you.

Zemo stops in his tracks and looks back at your hand that is holding his.

You drop his hand and blink furiously while shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that.”

Zemo steps back towards you. This time he is the one to reach for your hand. With his unoccupied hand he tilts your chin up towards him. His eyes dart back between your eyes and your lips. You do the same.

After what feels like an eternity, he dips his head down and places his lips on yours. It was such a simple kiss and it left you yearning for more so you deepened the kiss and captured his lips. It felt like your heart has exploded. This was it. This was exactly what you wanted. What you needed. You couldn’t explain it but it was right.

You let go of his hand and cradled his face with both of yours. He let out a sigh and placed one hand on your hip and the other behind your head. Then he pushed you back against the wall gently and he deepened the kiss even further. You felt heat rush to your core. He swiped his tongue into your mouth and then it was your turn to sigh. You just melted for him immediately. Becoming putty in his hands, you let him explore your mouth with his talented tongue.

He broke away to let you breathe which you were thankful for. His eyes searched your face wildly. You pulled him back into you and kissed him with fervor. His hands slid up to your waist and his thumbs rubbed at the material there.

Helmut broke away again but this time to show his love to your neck. You tilted your head to allow him more access. He kissed and sucked at your neck all the way from your ear to your collarbone. You let out a few moans during his trek. However, you remembered that your friends are not far away and that you would have to keep mostly quiet.

You ran your fingers through Zemo’s hair to which he hummed in appreciation and nipped at your collarbone. He returned his lips to yours and you easily molded your body back into his. This time it was you who slipped your tongue into Zemo’s mouth and you could feel the smile at his lips.

At some point he had slipped his leg between yours and his thigh was placed against a very sensitive area. When you became aware of this, you ground down on his thigh. Your lips parted so you could moan, something that Zemo really loved apparently. He lifted his thigh to give you more pressure and you ground down and moaned once again.

Zemo growled deeply and attacked your lips. He swallowed your moans as you continued your ministrations. His right hand came down to unbutton your pants. He slipped his hand in your pants and rested his fingertips on your pubic bone. That was still way too far away for your liking. You bucked up into his hand and whined.

“More,” you moaned, “please”

Zemo pecked your lips, “anything for you.”

His middle finger traced up your clothed slit and you shuddered. He pressed down where he knew your bundle of nerves would be. You almost choked at the pleasure. Finally, he slipped his hand past your underwear and did the exact same thing as before but without anything in the way. You let your head hit the wall as your mouth opened. You tried to remind yourself to keep quiet, but you couldn’t help the moan that escaped when Zemo’s fingers entered you.

Zemo kissed and bit at your neck while his fingers thrust into you. You found yourself rocking into his hand when he would pull out. You reached down to palm his achingly hard erection through his pants. He released a guttural moan as you rubbed him. His fingers sped up and then slid out of you to quickly swirl around your clit before going back in. That made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Despite receiving pleasure from you, Zemo turned all his attention onto you. His thumb started swiping and rolling your clit at a brutal but steady pace as his fingers curled up into your g-spot. You gripped Zemo’s hair and his eyes were drawn to your face as you came around his fingers. Your head hit the wall, eyes shutting tightly, and your mouth falling open into a silent scream.

It was the most mesmerizing thing Zemo had ever seen. You looked absolutely gorgeous.

You panted hard and grabbed the front of Zemo’s shirt for stability. He slipped his fingers out of you and you whined at the loss.

He smirked at you and kissed your forehead, “Do you want some water?”

“I want you,” you panted and pulled him to you again. You kissed him fiercely and palmed at his pants. You moved to start taking them off of him when there was a knock at the door. You both stilled.

“Y/n, are you okay in there?” Sam asked with obvious concern leaking from his voice.

You took a deep breath to collect yourself before replying, “Yeah, I’m good now. I’ll be out in a sec.” You heard Sam’s retreating footsteps.

You looked at Zemo apologetically. He smiled genuinely at you and picked up your hands to kiss both of them.

“It’s okay, my love. We’ll have more time together soon.” He leaned closer and pecked your lips.

You nodded, “I should head back.”

“Go on, I’ll be with you shortly.”

You leaned in for one last kiss because you didn’t know how long it would be until the next one. You pulled away sadly and buttoned up your pants. You looked in the mirror and fixed your appearance as best you could. You spared one more look at Zemo before you left the bathroom.

You closed the door behind you to give Zemo some time to freshen up and calm down. You walked back to your seat. Sam and Bucky’s eyes followed you worriedly.

“Hey, are you okay? Why was Zemo in there so long?” Bucky asked

“I got a little sick and Zemo stayed with me and rubbed my back until I felt better.” You clarified, hoping they would buy it.

Sam scrunched his face up. “He rubbed your back?”

You nodded.

Sam turned to bucky, “I don’t like getting to know Zemo.”

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 21

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 21 - This Venerable One Will Tell You a Story (Part 3)

Yao Qianjin had quite a temperament. When she got back, she didn't even think about eating and went straight to pestering her father to inquire about Chen Bohuan. Although Chen Bohuan was already married, it was done behind closed doors. Who knew about it? Even when their marriage had been arranged, the town never knew about their relationship.

So Yao Qianjin learned that the eldest Chen son "wasn't married yet."

The county magistrate made several inquiries and found that Xiao Chen was capable, gentle-tempered, and his familial situation was good, so he sent someone to talk to the Chen family about the marriage.

Mr. Chen was filled with regret. They politely told the county magistrate they would think about it first. They closed the door and the two old people immediately started to quarrel.

Mr. Chen said: "Look what you've done! The poor scholar died early and his daughter should have mourned him for three years. If you hadn't been in such a hurry for them to get married, our son wouldn't have to regret it now! Look at what happened!"

Madam Chen was also anxious: "You're blaming me? Weren't you the one who wanted to arrange the marriage in the first place? Now there's a better option: the daughter of the county magistrate! Can. . . can Luo Xianxian compare to that?"

The two elders closed the door and quarrelled until they were red in the face. At the end of the quarrel, they were exhausted and panting across the table from each other.

Mr. Chen asked: "What should we do? Should we call back the magistrate?"

Madam Chen said: ". . . We can't do that. Our family is relying on Yao Qianjin's money."

Mr. Chen said angrily: "Then will the daughter of the Yao family be a concubine? Will she? Our son already has somebody, how can we add another? Look at how in love they are!"

". . ." Madam Chen didn't say anything for a while. Her eyes suddenly lit up, and she murmured, "If you think about Luo Xianxian and our son, except for our family, no one knows about them. . ."

After a few moments of silence, Mr. Chen was shocked when he suddenly understood his wife's intentions.

He was trembling, half from panic, half from anger.

"You - you mean. . ."

"If no one knows about it, it doesn't count as a real marriage." Madam Chen said. "Let's try to find a way to get rid of her. We can do whatever it takes. All the surrounding villages think he's unmarried. Do you remember how she stole oranges from us as a child? As long as we all stick to that story, no one would believe her word over ours!"

Mr. Chen strode to the door, confirmed that the door was closed tightly, and hurriedly rushed over. The two people who had been arguing like two chickens in a cockfight were nestled together again, quietly lowering their voices, and discussed.

Mr. Chen said: "This method of you, I'm afraid it won't work."

"What's wrong?"

"Our son won't agree. He's had a crush on Luo Xianxian his whole life. Why would he agree to drive her away for someone else?"

Madam Chen thought for a while. She patted her husband's hand and said, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

After a while, Madam Chen suddenly became seriously ill. It was a strange illness. The doctor couldn't explain the reason, but she just would have fits all day and talked nonsense, saying she was possessed by a ghost.

Mr. Chen was terrified so he asked a Daoist priest to come. He carried a whisk on his back and said that there was something negative in the Chen family directed at Madam Chen. If it wasn't resolved, Madam Chen wouldn't make it to the new year.

Chen Bohuan, who was the most filial, anxiously asked: "What attacked my mother?"

The Daoist priest pretended to be mysterious and hesitated for a while. He said it was a "beauty who couldn't see the light of day."

Everyone in the room froze. The Chen family's sons all turned to look at Luo Xianxian standing on the side.

Luo Xianxian also froze.

She has been told many times when she was a child that her life is cursed. She brought tragedy with her. As soon as she was born, she killed her mother, then her brother, and later her father.

Now, she was being accused again, saying that she was going to kill her mother-in-law.

The Chen family was petrified. The sons took turns telling her to leave the Chen family. Besides, no one outside the family knew that she was married and had an innocent reputation. They would give her some money and let her find another good family.

Luo Xianxian was anxious and afraid. She was really worried that she was killing Madam Chen and she couldn't control her tears.

Chen Bohuan was heartbroken. As he watched his mother grow weaker, he was caught between a rock and a hard place. He didn't want to leave Luo Xianxian, but he couldn't bear to watch his mother suffer. She had lost so much weight in such a short amount of time.

The brothers of the Chen family quit trying to be civil. One day, while their elder brother was away, they sought out their sister-in-law. Luo Xianxian was mixing butterfly fragrant powder in the greenhouse. They rushed up and knocked over her utensils. The fragrant powder fell on her. The pungent aroma seemed to instantly seep into her bones and she couldn't wash it off.

The brothers surrounded her and talked about the most important duties, such as "a woman's virtue", how a wife and daughter should be humble, parents should be respected but Luo Xianxian was very tough. Although timid, she was very stubborn. She cried and said she didn't want to leave, begging them to think of another way.

The second son of the Chen family was impatient so he went up and slapped her. He said: "You're going to kill our mother, you cursed bitch. If there was another way, would your father have died? Would your mother have died? Would your brother be dead or alive?"

As soon as he beat her, the rest of them rushed up, punching and kicking Luo Xianxian, shouting things like "get out", "vermin" and "quick fuck".

These sons had the same idea as their mother. In fact, they had known about their mother's idea for a long time. At this time, taking advantage of their elder brother's absence, they worked together to expel Luo Xianxian from the house. They threatened that if she dared to come back, they would beat her every day. She didn't have a family anyways. If she was beaten to death, no one would care.

It was a snowy night. Luo Xianxian was thrown into the snow covered in bruises and one of the embroidered shoes on her feet had fallen off.

She slowly crawled forward, a muffled choked sob escaping her lips, like the low howl of a dying cub.

It was late at night. Few people would be outside on such a snowy day. She crawled through the vast world, not knowing where she was going, not knowing where else she could go.

The Chen brothers were right.

She had no family; no father, no brother. No one to stand up for her, no one to take her in.

There was nowhere she could go in this white, awe-inspiring world.

Her bones were weak, and she was wearing thin clothes when she was thrown out, so her legs and feet quickly became numb and useless.

Crawling all the way to the outskirts of the city, she came to the earth temple where the Master of Ceremonies Ghost was enshrined. She curled up in the temple to hide from the snow. Her lips were blue and frozen, and her heart felt even colder.

Looking up at the clay statue with gorgeous red makeup, she couldn't stop the tears rolling down her face. It made her think of the rules of the Lower Cultivation World, and how a married couple should have a master of ceremonies to witness it.

At that time, all she had was a red flower hairpin, a beautiful smile and Chen Bohuan kneeling next to her.

Was this closed-door marriage all a big dream? That day, the beauty in the brass mirror was picturesque. Was it just a greedy joy that she had concocted deep in her mind?

She knelt in front of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost, dragging her increasingly heavier and cold body. She bowed three times, crying and laughing.

"Married as husband and wife. No doubt about their love. Rejoice. . . in this. . . tonight. . ."

She started to feel dizzy and her vision was getting blurry.

A thin layer of moonlight seemed to sprinkle in front of her eyes. In the small courtyard from her past, she cried and said: "I didn't steal. I didn't steal. I didn't steal the oranges."

However, three men make a tiger* and everyone was terrified. No one would believe her side of the story.

*(T/N: 三人成虎 - means that the more someone repeats something absurd, the more likely people are to believe it)

To this day, she knew that even if she ran up to every person she saw and screamed that she was Chen Bohuan's wife, no one would believe her. She was still the same little girl as back then, stuck behind the mud wall with no one to share her grievances with.

Nothing had changed.

But there was still that person, looking over the wall, holding a white steamed bun, stuffed into her palm, saying: "If you're hungry, eat a steamed bun to curb your hunger."

Now. . . that person. . . where was he. . .

When he came back and couldn't find her, would he be worried, or would he secretly breathe a sigh of relief because his mother would be safe from her?

Luo Xianxian curled up in the earth temple, eyes dripping with gradually drying tears, and whispered: "Madam Master of Ceremonies, I want to be with him. I'm his wife. . . When we came to the temple, we didn't have a master of ceremonies with us. You're a Master of Ceremonies Ghost. You can't control the living, but I. . . You're the only one I can talk to. . . and I can tell you. . ."

She whimpered in a broken voice, the last sound coming out of her throat: "I didn't lie. . ."

I didn't lie.

The heavy snow was silent, and the long night was quiet.

The next day, the townspeople who passed by the earth temple on the outskirts of the city found Luo Xianxian's cold body.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[heliads]

Forever Separated

Based on this request: “Reader is Luke’s girlfriend in the 90’s and is at the gig at the Orpheum and hit by a drunk driver and dies instantly. She and the boys come back as ghosts 25 years later. She’s there for everything that goes down with Julie, Willie, and Caleb.”

masterlist

Your fingers tap absentmindedly on the steering wheel as you careen through the streets. It’s late now, the beacons of headlights guiding you down the asphalt. There’s a grin on your face that won’t seem to go away- your boys are playing at the Orpheum tonight. The Orpheum. That’s been their dream for what feels like forever. It doesn’t even seem true.

By your boys, you mean Sunset Curve, of course. The motley collection of four teenage boys with dreams bigger than the world and the need for a chance to prove themselves. You stumbled across them at a small jazz club, at what had been one of their first performances. It hadn’t been long after that when you had become a friend of the bandmates, and an even shorter time before you fell in love with Luke. When you started dating, it felt like everything was finally falling into place.

You had always known that they would make it, even when they seemed to doubt it themselves. You knew they had gathered regrets over the years- Reggie with the fracturing of his family, Alex with his parents’ lack of acceptance of him, and Luke with the way he’d run out on his mother. You had seen it in their faces- if their band never got off of the ground, they would continue to doubt themselves for the rest of their lives. There had been times when you thought that it might be over for good, that they’d be done for before they even got the chance to get started. Yet here you are now, driving towards their gig at the Orpheum.

You’re only a couple of streets away. You’re practically shivering with anticipation at the thought of it- all of their dreams and hopes, finally come to fruition. You, however, are running a little late despite your best interests, and so your foot involuntarily presses down on the gas. You’re not speeding, always careful to follow traffic laws, just making sure you’re not going to be as late as you fear.

It only seems fitting that something would go wrong on this night of nights. Thinking back, you’re almost glad it happened to you and not someone else. You had this awful feeling that something was going to happen to ruin this gig, and maybe if it happened to you it would protect the boys and let their show run on uninterrupted. When you pass through the intersection, this thought may have protected you.

When you see the truck out of the corner of your eye, you continue driving. You know it will stop, it has to. Maybe it’s the way you’re eager to see your boys again, or the fact that the light has been green for a long time now and there’s no way the driver could miss the glaring red in front of him. Maybe it’s just because you feel sheltered by this bubble of hope that comes with seeing the boy you love play at the Orpheum. Regardless, there is nothing you can do to avoid the truck, and you keep expecting that it will stop until it is inches away from you. Then you finally realize that there’s no getting out of this, and it is only then that it is too late to act.

You’ve seen car crashes in the movies. They’re always a blazing whirl of headlights and screeching tires, a hailstorm of broken glass that reflects the light in the most beautiful arc around you. It will be slow, like time itself crawls to a stop, just in time for your head to fly back in a graceful motion. Then it will speed up again, and just like that it will be over.

This is nothing like that. It is over an instant, no beautifully devastating moments. You’re not a marionette to be hung delicately in the air, your strings are cut within seconds. You do not have time to see the poetry in your last moments, they’re already over. All you manage to see is a quick glimpse of a bottle resting in the driver’s hands, a tremendous impact like the very shaking of the earth, and then there is nothing at all. No orchestras reach a momentum, no lens flares pierce the night. There is everything, and then there is nothing. It is painfully ordinary.

There is one feeling that seems to surround it all. A pain, numb at first and then growing to a fever pitch. You don’t know when you wake up, only that it is much later. There’s someone dressed in a paramedic’s uniform standing over you, the piercing din of an ambulance somewhere behind you. You want to form words together and ask who it’s for, but the answer comes to you the second you realize you can’t move a muscle. It is for you. You are the one in need of saving.

The paramedic is standing over you, shouting something about a drunk driver and two casualties, the driver and the girl right here. You want to stand up, to shout to the world that you’re alive and fine. But for some reason, you can’t move at all. You can’t say anything except feel the last of your pulse die from your veins. Distantly, you feel a raw anguish creeping up in your throat. Luke and the others are still waiting for you at the Orpheum. Who will tell them that you’re gone?

It should have been over then. You died, certainly. You bled out on the streets and ceased to draw breath. Indeed, you had the classic fading of color and acceptance of the darkness just like everyone else. It appears that you will only have access to the clichés of the stories in death. It’s oddly fitting. Regardless of the beauty of it, you died. End of story.

Or at least, it should have been the end. Yet, you find yourself standing again, waiting at the back of a crowded room. You stare at your hands, at your body, which appears unharmed. Your eyes travel from yourself to the people in front of you. Your parents sit in chairs, their backs to you. They’re looking over a photo album, crying softly. “She was so young. She could have done so much more. I miss her, even though it’s been so long.”

You step forward, but the ground makes no sound underneath your feet. “Y/N wouldn’t want you to be sad. She would want you to remember her with happiness, not with tears, right?” Your mother nods sadly. “I can’t seem to help it, though.” An icy chill runs through your veins as you realize what’s happened. All you can think about is that you need to get away from here, somewhere where you won’t be surrounded by people mourning your death.

And then you’re gone. One minute you’re in your home, the next minute you’re standing on the sidewalk outside. Although you look around frantically, no one notices your sudden appearance. No one, that is, except one boy. He’s riding a skateboard, long dark hair tucked underneath a helmet. He stops suddenly, staring at you. “Hey, you just poofed here out of nowhere. You’re a ghost?”

You stare at him. “You can see me?” He nods. “You must be new to this ghost business if you’ve got questions. I’m Willie, by the way.” You smile weakly at him. “Y/N. I guess I would have to be a ghost if I died in the accident.” Willie winces. “Ooh, accidents. Those hurt. I died around the early 80s, a couple of decades ago, so I know what you mean.” You stare at him. “The 80s weren’t a couple of decades ago. They were recent.”

Willie shakes his head. “Sorry, man. You must have only been brought back as a ghost recently. It’s the 2020s right now.” You shake your head slowly. “That means it’s been 30 years since I died. How is that possible?” Willie places a hand on your shoulder, and for some reason the gesture is surprisingly comforting. “Hey, not a whole lot about the ghost stuff makes sense. If you want to talk about it, though, I’m here.” You smile at him. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”

Willie ends up becoming a fast friend. He explains everything there is to know about ghosts, and the two of you have fun messing around with your ghost abilities, whatever those are. It’s nice to have someone who understands about the ghost business, and you find that in leaps and bounds with Willie.

One day, you’re lying on a grassy hill admiring the clouds when Willie poofs into existence next to you. For some reason, he looks almost flushed with excitement, cheeks pink with thrill. “You won’t believe who I met. The cutest guy. He’s a new ghost, too.” You grin over at him. “Already making moves? You’re unreal.” Willie rolls his eyes. “I played it safe. We had a nice chat. He seems very cool, in a band or something. I think he plays the drums. Alex, was in a band called Sunset Curve. I think that’s a good name for a band, and I’ve heard a lot of bad ones.”

You sit up suddenly, all thoughts of the bright afternoon sun quickly abandoned. “What did you say? About Sunset Curve?” Willie frowns. “That’s the guy’s band. Or, it was until he died. He’s about our age, played in a band called Sunset Curve.” You shake your head slowly. “That makes no sense. They should have grown up a long time ago.” Willie still seems confused, so you clarify. “I know Alex,  and I know the rest of his bandmates. I was friends with them until I died.” You fix him with a sudden purposeful look. “I need you to bring me to meet these guys.”

Willie has to ask around, but eventually he finds Alex and discovers that they’re staying in their old studio, now inhabited by the Molina family. You thank him, setting off as soon as you can. As you stand outside the doors to the studio, you find yourself suddenly nervous. Will they want to see you? Will they understand what happened?

The faint sounds of music drifting out from the doors is what convinces you. It sounds just like them, like this is another afternoon from the 90s when you’re meeting up with Luke and the others. You gather your courage and knock twice on the doors, then push them open. You stand for a moment in the doorway, staring. The boys stare back at you. It’s funny- everyone looks the exact same, even though everything has changed.

Then there’s a voice from the back of the room. It’s quiet, as if he’s afraid to say anything lest the moment be fractured away into nothingness. “Y/N?” Luke steps forward, disbelief warring with hope in his eyes. You nod slowly. “Luke?” Luke stands still for a moment longer, then runs forward, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close. You tuck your head into the space between his head and his shoulder, letting yourself relax once more.

After what could be ten seconds or ten minutes, Luke reluctantly pulls away. He cups your face in his hand, just staring with awe. “How are you here? We died- you weren’t at the Orpheum-” You laugh bitterly. “I died too. There was a drunk driver on the road, he hit me when I was just a couple of blocks away. I was so close, that was the worst part.” Luke nods slowly. “I remember hearing sirens. I didn’t know it was you.”

Something like guilt passes over his face, and you hurriedly shake your head. “It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. I guess you died some time after that?” Luke nods. “Just before the show. We never got to play.” A sad sigh rips from his chest, and you pull him close again. It isn’t fair, not at all. He shouldn’t have died, you shouldn’t have died. He should not have been robbed of this chance to live the dream he always wanted.

There’s the sound of a throat clearing from across the room. “You know, we’re here too. Not just Luke.” You look up, laughing. “Sorry, Reggie, Alex. Love you guys too. I’m glad we can all be dead together.” Alex flashes you a thumbs up from across the room. “Me too, Y/N. Me too.” Luke laughs now, albeit reluctantly. You squeeze his hand one more time, then step into the room, greeting the other boys. 

Your gaze falls upon a figure you don’t recognize- a girl, about your age if not a year younger. She has dark, curly hair and a fascinated smile. “Hi, I’m Y/N.” The girl startles. “Julie. Julie Molina. It’s nice to meet you- you must be the girl Luke keeps talking about.” You toss a grin Luke’s way. “You’ve been talking about me?” Luke moves to deny this, but Reggie speaks up loudly. “So often. You have no idea. He’s been very sad.”

Luke glares at his friend, but you just grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Well, it’s nice to feel wanted.” Luke beams at you, still thrilled that you’re here again. “Trust me, you are. I can’t believe you get to stay with me.”

Neither can you, actually. Somehow, despite the fact that you died and came back again, Luke did the same, and you can be with him again. You’ve lost everything- your family, your future, your life, but you still have him. It feels impossible, but it’s true.

This isn’t to say that life is smooth sailing from here. It turns out Luke, Alex, and Reggie have gotten themselves tangled in the mess that is Caleb’s club, and they’ve got the stamps to prove it. You find yourself holding Luke close while he spasms from jolt after jolt, forcing smiles to pretend like it doesn’t kill you every time he’s in pain. You also have to defend Willie to the rest, as he’s been your friend for a while and would never knowingly betray them. You have a feeling that Alex is pretty happy to hear this.

At last, you find the way to save Luke and save the boys- another performance at the Orpheum, this time as their unfinished business. Standing outside the building, staring up at the blinking neon signs, you can’t help but feel some strange feeling in the pit of your stomach. This feels like a sick twist of deja vu. This is how you died- waiting for the boys’ performance at the Orpheum. Staying here now, in the same position but after you’ve died, feels somehow wrong.

You try to shake the thoughts from your head, slipping inside the building to go find Luke, Julie, and the others. This isn’t like that night, you can’t die twice. Everything is going to be fine. Yet when you walk in the dressing room and catch sight of a panicked Flynn trying to calm a visibly shaken Julie, you have a feeling that things aren’t exactly smooth sailing.

Julie looks up when she sees you appear in the room. “Y/N, it’s good to see you. Have you seen Luke and the boys?” You shake your head, a crease forming between your brows. “No, not since I left the studio to let you say your goodbyes. Have they not shown up?” Julie sinks back down in a chair, hands pressed to her temples. “Not at all.” You slump against a wall. This feels like history repeating itself again- you dead, the boys not showing up to their performance at the Orpheum. No matter how many times you tell a story, it tends to end the same way.

Distraught, you wander back through the building to attempt to find the boys, but your search is to no avail. They’re nowhere to be found. You stumble through the auditorium just to see Julie taking the stage. You have a brief, wild hope that she’s managed to find them, but then you see the red rims of her teary eyes and hear the goodbye she issues to the crowd. If they haven’t shown up, then that means-

You try to distract yourself by listening to Julie sing. It brings a smile to your face in spite of yourself. Julie is a bright firecracker of a girl, and it’s been wonderful to get to know her. At least you know you have her at the end of this. Yet when the beat drops, Alex appears in a flash of sparks. You stand up, pressing forward through the crowd as if your proximity will do anything more to bring them back. Yes- there goes Reggie, and there’s Luke struggling to flicker back into existence. You send out a silent plea: bring him back, please. You can’t do this without him. 

Then he’s back again, and you feel like your heart might burst. He flashes you a grin, as if to promise that nothing could separate you again. You smile back at him, finally letting yourself relax. He’s here, it’s okay. It’s all okay. When the song ends, you watch through joyful eyes as the boys stand next to Julie, clasping hands before taking a bow. There’s something wrong, though, something wrong when they disappear. Usually, you can loosely sense them when they poof away, but this time there’s nothing. Nothing at all. It’s like they’ve been erased away from the song of their lives.

There’s something pounding in the back of your heart, and you poof away to Julie’s rooms backstage. She appears there seconds later, as if she’s been expecting you. She runs over to you, stopping a few feet away as she remembers she can’t touch you or hug you as a ghost. “Tell me they’re still here. They didn’t just cross over.” You shake your head slowly. “I can’t feel them. They’re not in the building anymore. Julie, I think they’re gone.”

She nods slowly, fighting a losing battle to keep the tears at bay. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. So sorry. You just found Luke again, and now he’s gone.” You force a smile. “It’s alright. We’re just ghosts, remember? We’ve been running on borrowed time all along. I’ll meet you at the studio, alright? We can say our goodbyes.” Julie nods. “I’ll see you then.” You give her one last wave, then poof out.

You reappear outside the doors of the studio. You can’t quite bring yourself to go in, to face the empty stillness of the studio and know that the boy you love isn’t there. What are you supposed to do now? You have no idea what your unfinished business could possibly be. Most likely, you’re going to live out your endless days as a ghost, not noticed by anyone except Julie and Willie and whatever other ghosts you manage to find, forever haunted by the knowledge that the one person you’re looking for the most will never appear around the corner, never be waiting for you again. It’s like you’re back to that car crash, knowing you’ll be separated by death once more.

You hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway and straighten up. Seconds later, Julie appears down the path, and you nod at her slowly. “Are you ready to do this?” She sighs. “It seems fitting to say goodbye, even if they aren’t here.” She pushes open the doors, letting the darkness wash over the two of you. She looks over at you. “I don’t know what to do.” You smile gently. “There’s no script. I have a feeling they’ll be able to hear you. Just say what you wish you got to say before they left.”

Julie nods. “I’m glad I got to meet you guys, and grateful to you for everything. You got me back into music, and I’ll never be able to let go of it again. I thought I’d never play after my mom, but you convinced me that I could. Thank you.” There’s a muffled voice from the back of the room, one that’s quickly shushed by two annoyed boys. “You’re welcome.” You stare. “Reggie?” You’d know him anywhere- you’ve heard that voice in band practices for the last couple of decades, even if it doesn’t feel that way.

Julie runs over to turn on the light, and your hand flies to your mouth as you see the boys crumpled in a heap on the floor, in obvious pain. “Did it not work? Did you not cross over?” Luke shakes his head, gently extricating himself from the heap of band members on the ground to stumble over to you. You catch him before he falls, holding him upright. “We won’t play with Caleb, that’s a promise. It’s not worth it like that.” You cup his face in your hands. “I don’t want to let you go. Not yet.”

Luke laughs quietly. “I’m not sure we had a choice. I love you, Y/N, no matter what. You know that, right?” You nod, letting your head fall against his shoulder. “I know.” You feel one last jolt rack his body, and somehow you know that this will be the last. This is it, the moment when he truly dies. You fling your arms around him, holding him close one last time. If you can’t have the future with him you had always planned, you can at least have this moment.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, waiting for the moment when he disappears from you forever. Yet it doesn’t come. You open your eyes carefully, then stare at him. “Luke, you’re- I think you’re glowing.” Sure enough, he’s surrounded by this golden haze of light. He smiles at you, chuckling slightly in awe. “I feel good. Strong, like I haven’t felt in a while.” Alex stands up too, as does Reggie. “Actually, I feel better too. I think you saved us. Both of you.”

You laugh incredulously. “Really? You’re not going away?” Luke presses a kiss to your cheek. “Never again. I’m not leaving you ever again.” You beam at him. “Good. I don’t intend to be with anyone else.” He laughs at that, pulling you in for a kiss. For once, you know that he’s here to stay.

[pot-of-terv]

Disclaimer: This starts soft but very quickly goes to a place I did NOT expect it to go so, just, be prepared. I guess there were some things my muse just couldn’t leave untouched :_D There’s also an additional drawing in there somewhere among the text. The ending is kind of a cliffhanger (dun dun duuun... part three is coming!!) but it’s happy (hurt/comfort y’all, MY BRAND)!

Also I have to say- oh my goodness this ended up having over 2,000 words and I’ve never written a fic this long! This feels pretty amazing but also, very scary, because as you know I’m a Finn so English is not my first language and this far I’ve stuck to just writing itty bitty things. Writing a story with multiple parts is also new to me, so wow, actually, thank you PuzzleJune for making me challenge myself in fresh and exciting ways 🥺

tw: breakdown

PuzzleJune2021, Week Two: Space (Quiet)

It is mesmerising. Intoxicating, even, Atem muses as he reaches up to rub his own sleep-soft face, eyes never leaving the still sleeping figure beside him. He shifts to lay on his side, slowly, with deliberate movements, trying to not disturb the quiet of the early morning.

Watching him sleep like this... I can feel the bed move when he moves and his warmth whenever he's close enough. I never had that before, he thinks and his heart clenches. I have it now.

Yuugi snorts in his sleep and Atem can't help but smile. That boy... no, that young man, has been through so much, too much, and yet he still sleeps so soundly. It's nothing short of incredible and the pharaoh wonders if he's ever met anyone more deserving of respect and admiration. Their journey thus far has only lasted for a couple of years and during that short time, the former spirit of the Millenium Puzzle has had the first-row seat to witnessing Yuugi's strength, his growth - how he slowly but surely had begun to trust himself.

Atem turns his gaze away from Yuugi and mulls over that thought. It hurts him somewhere deep in his core to remember how little worth Yuugi had seen in himself during those first months after Atem's consciousness awakened. He touches his chest where his heart is and leaves his hand there, feeling the slow rhythm beating under his palm.

That feeling of self-doubt could as well be his own, for he did think he was Yuugi for a while back then. It's a troubling realisation and he frowns at the ceiling. Despite not having any memories, how many of those insecurities had been Atem's own that he subconsciously reflected towards Yuugi's heart and by doing so unknowingly meddled with Yuugi's self-image as a whole? Objectively he knows that his emergence helped Yuugi gain confidence even though he didn't remember those first few times Atem took his place, but subjectively...? Atem's brows knit tighter together and he balls the hand that rests on his chest into a fist.

To call these thoughts troubling is an understatement. Suddenly Atem feels uncomfortably restless, he can't keep still, he needs space, he has to move. But moving would mean leaving the warm blankets and the even warmer form next to him and risk waking him in the process.

His chest feels so tight and it aches in a way Atem hasn't felt in millennia and he squeezes his eyes shut, holds his breath and with one swift movement pushes the blankets off of himself, sits up and rolls to the side to plant his feet onto the floor. The wood is cool under the bare soles of his feet and that sudden feeling makes him pause for a moment. He releases the breath he was holding.

It's almost funny how he already feels better. He glances over his shoulder to see if he had woken Yuugi up but the other youth seems undisturbed, still fast asleep. Relieved, Atem stands up... and doesn't know what to do. It's still practically night time and the house is silent. Mama Mutou and Grandpa will be getting up in one to two hours and Yuugi much later than that if his previous findings are to be trusted. Normally he would happily snooze the morning away with Yuugi but he doesn't want to go back to bed, the restlessness still buzzing under his skin even though that unpleasant tightness in his chest has ebbed and is now just a nuisance instead of actual, painful anxiety.

He turns around to face the bed so he can take another look at Yuugi, properly. A glance wasn't enough. Will never be enough, he realises all of a sudden. I want to be looking at Yuugi, and only Yuugi, forever. How can his heart feel so big and full but so small at the same time?

Atem is overwhelmed, not yet used to the absolute link between his feelings and his physical senses, and he lifts his hand once more to his chest, almost desperately grasping his shirt and pressing his fist against his heart, to feel the beat of it, and the warmth of his body.

He has this body now and he should be so, so thankful for it, but at this moment he can only feel guilt. He loves Yuugi but has still put him through so much and he knows, oh how he knows, that the trip to Egypt broke him. Atem had felt Yuugi mourn him weeks beforehand, felt his grief he so valiantly tried to conceal - too bad their bond at that point was the strongest it had ever been and Atem knew. It took everything in him to keep on going, to keep on telling himself that this was the right thing to do, this was how he could repay Yuugi's kindness and let him go on with his life, let him be free. He had heard the modern phrase “if you love them let them go”, and wouldn't that have been so grand? To prove his love in such a poetic, profound way?

All that in spite of Yuugi's feelings screaming at him that to be separated was the last thing he wanted.

Atem chuckles, a bitter taste in his mouth. Despite having shared such an extraordinary bond, communication had never been their strongest point, duels usually excluded, and talking about their feelings was not an exception. Still isn’t. They both had just kept on doing what they thought was the best for the other and in the process ended up wounding each other in ways that Atem isn't sure he can ever truly understand. Yesterday he had come down to the kitchen to find Yuugi folding laundry, eyes puffy and red, yet when he talked he sounded so happy. Atem had left it at that because there's nothing he could do when confronted by that smile that can put even the Sun in shade.

Slowly he realises that he's been staring at his partner for such a long time that it must be bordering on creepy. How did he get here from that warmth he first woke up to, from that love he so deeply feels for Yuugi? Why hasn’t he thought about these things before? It's like all he has in his head are questions with no answers to calm his mind. It's only been a week since... since it all should've ended, but didn't, all because of Atem's selfishness. Selfishness... and love. His own heart had broken when his life points counted down to zero and he saw the utter hopelessness he felt surface in his heart reflected right back at him on Yuugi's face. The memory of it is still so strong that he has to grit his teeth together to keep his jaw from trembling.

He hadn’t been able to stand that expression, to stand the knowledge that he was the cause of it. He wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough. The pride he had felt toward Yuugi's skill was completely overshadowed by the grief that hit him in waves, his legs feeling like lead as he slowly walked to Yuugi, his own voice distant to his ears as he offered words of consolation and praise. Empty words, they were, he knew it then and he knows it now. How could he ever leave this person who had gone through so much for him, because of him, who had loved him so fully, who had risked it all to be there for him in his quest to regain his memories even when knowing that the price for that would be too steep to consider if Yuugi ever stopped to do that?

Atem had never wanted to leave. He had learned to live again, to have friends, and grow as a person, no matter how minuscule that growth might have been. Yuugi had been him and then Yuugi had become his world. There's no other way to explain it. As much as Atem had longed for his memories, for those people he loved and lost all those thousands of years ago, he couldn't bear the thought of losing another family. Even when the prize would be to regain his first one. 

But he had to. He had thought he had to.

Yet when he was just about to take the last step, he had faltered. Had wondered - does it have to be this way? What if there's another choice he could make?

And the gods had answered him. He didn't have to beg, he didn't have to fight, he just had to ask.

Just ask.

It had been so simple, in the end, so effortless. Of course, Atem asked for that third choice - or didn't really even ask, he didn't dare, he wished for it, his heart on the verge of breaking a second time. He had been painfully aware of his friends behind him, holding their breaths, waiting for the end. Atem felt their feelings wrap around him like a cloak and he bore the weight of it, accepted it, as he couldn't quite believe that it would be that easy to stay. So he had wished.

And that wish had been granted.

And now he is here.

Standing in the middle of the floor in Yuugi's room while Yuugi sleeps, hands closed into fists, both grasping his shirt now, holding back tears that threaten to spill forth. Wondering why did he even put Yuugi through all that, when in the end, it was for nothing? Oh, he thinks, oh, how it hurts. His own shortcomings, his own pain, the pain that he had caused others. Especially the pain that he had caused Yuugi. He hadn’t deserved it, he never deserved something so cruel and insincere as Atem's decision to leave had been.

A sob wrangles itself up and out of his mouth, he's not able to stop it in time and that breaks his resolve. He sways on his feet as tears force their way out and streak his cheeks, fall into his shirt and seep into the fabric as he hiccups and tries half-heartedly to stop it. He shouldn't be crying, not after everything he’s done. He doesn’t deserve to feel so sorry for himself - he should be the one to take responsibility, to carry that burden without a hitch. But, the thing is… at this moment, he’s no longer the prince-then-pharaoh from 3000 years ago. He’s no longer the amnesiac spirit occupying the Puzzle. He’s not the King of Games.

At this moment, he’s just a 16-year-old boy who is desperately trying to deal with every responsibility he’s imagined are only his to bear and failing spectacularly. So he cries, and cries, and he can no longer see with how blurry his eyes have gone. He prays Yuugi won't wake up to it, he just has to suffer through it and he'll be fine. Crying is fine, actually. He would laugh at himself if he could - aren't tears an actual luxury, after all? He wasn't able to cry his own tears with his own body before, but now he can.

There's a hand on his shoulder and Atem's heart drops into his stomach - oh no, now he's woken up - then another on the other side, then a tug, and Atem follows blindly. He's guided back to the bed and coaxed to sit down where a warm body presses against him and he's enveloped in an embrace.

Atem finds that he can't talk, he tries to draw breath to get the words out but sobs are the only thing he can produce and finally, he hears a voice call his name. It's so soft and warm and loving that Atem somehow feels worse and buries his head into Yuugi’s shoulder, his chest heaving and he almost wails from the struggle of it.

“Shh, other me. Cry it out. It helps. I know.”

He listens to Yuugi and does just that. It’s not easy to give up the reins but with Yuugi by his side, he finds the will to allow himself to succumb. He clutches his partner's shirt, holds him and is held in return, and lets himself cry. Lets his tears come like he's never done before and faced with the force of them, he feels like there's no end to it.

But there is an end. After a period of time that feels like an eternity, his sobs subside, his tears slow down, and he feels like he can finally loosen his hold of Yuugi's shirt to let blood flow into his fingers again. His nose feels snotty and he's sure there's no dry spot left on his partner's clothes and somehow that thought makes him laugh.

“See? All better now,” Yuugi murmurs against his temple and presses his lips there. That sign of affection almost makes Atem's eyes well up but he squeezes them shut, refusing to start crying all over again. He feels drained and empty and he's pretty sure he should be ashamed. He had woken Yuugi up and made him comfort him without asking but all he can feel is gratitude. Gratitude and love and endless adoration.

“Aibou,” he sniffles, voice congested and raw. He means to thank him but his throat closes up, yet Yuugi seems to catch his meaning.

“No need,” the shorter of the two says and Atem can feel his smile against his skin, “it's okay. You're okay, we're okay, everything's okay.”

Atem wants to argue but finds no energy for it. And - as he thinks about it, he realises that Yuugi is right.

They're okay.

He wraps his arms properly around Yuugi and squeezes, sighing softly. His mind is comfortably quiet now and he presses his ear against Yuugi's chest, listening to the beat of his heart (his heart's heart?) and feeling his own fall smoothly into the same rhythm. It's natural, it's right.

“I think,” he manages to croak out, “that we need to talk.”

Yuugi holds him closer and nods before pressing his face into Atem’s hair.

“Yeah,” he replies, sounding relieved, “we sure do, other me.”

[giorno-plays-piano]

Can I request a dark king Steve and inexperienced princess please? Thank you❤❤

First of all, I’m so sorry it took me so much time to finish this request. However, I’m very grateful to you for it because it made me remember my favorite mini-series Gormenghast 😌💖 Hope you’re going to enjoy this!

Boy in the castle

Pairing: king!Steve Rogers x princess!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, death of minor characters, forced marriage, allusion to non-con.

Words: 2430.

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When coup d'etat had happened - for the first time in centuries - your old nanny almost had a heart attack, locking you two in your chamber high up in the tower and barricading the window. The bastard boy would kill you, she kept repeating over and over until your head hurt. He is wicked as the Devil himself, she said, holding a heavy fireplace poker in her old shaky hands as a weapon. He will stab you in the back as he did to your royal father or poison you like he poisoned the Queen. 

That time you thought it would be much easier to push you throw the window and make you fall from the tower instead. Why bother with a knife or a poison? But you didn’t voice over your thoughts to your old nanny, knowing well her old heart wasn’t strong enough for this conversation. Strangely, you felt nothing hearing of the death of your parents. From your books you knew people were ought to mourn their families, but sadness had never come to you, anyway. Could it be because you only saw the King and Queen several times a year since you had been three years old? Maybe so.

Nevertheless, your nanny kept talking and talking about the dangers waiting for you outside of your room: the new King would murder anyone who posed a threat to him, and he had most likely already killed your younger brother, a true heir to the throne. You shrugged your shoulders at her words in return - you saw the boy as much as you did your parents. Despite being both a princess and King’s and Queen’s firstborn, most of the time you were confined to your chamber up in the tower where the only one serving you was your old nanny, a woman who had been taking care of you since the time you were born. You only encountered other people on special occasions like your honored brother’s birthday or the first day of a new year when you were allowed to leave your chamber.

You couldn’t feel sorry for those the new King had killed - the one who had never felt compassion from others barely knew what it meant to care about another human being. Of course, you loved your nanny, that foolish old woman who still slapped your back hard if you didn’t sit straight in your chair while reading, but you had long found peace with the thought that one day she would die, too, leaving you all alone. You weren’t scared of that. You had always been alone, locked away and forgotten even by the faithful servants of the King.

Maybe that was why you weren’t worried about being killed by the bastard boy who came to power. Being backstabbed certainly wasn’t pleasant, but it was a quick death, maybe even an easy one: in some books you read people were skinned alive or burnt at the stake, and you imagined it to be much more painful.

Silly girl, your nanny had told you then, weakened by the lack of food - it was the second day of your imprisonment after coup d'etat. The new King could do so much worse things to you, the only woman belonging to the old royal dynasty.

At the end of the third day when you were delirious from lack of water, the guards had broken down the heavy wooden door of your chamber, and a shy little maid got in, carrying a large tray of food. The new King had probably picked the poison, you thought then when the girl poured water right into your mouth and it run on your dry, parched lips. moistening your skin and hair. She fed you some chicken soup while the guards forced the food down your nanny’s throat. Oddly, neither her no you died that day.

What could the bastard boy possibly want from you, your nanny asked over and over again, passing from one corner of your chamber to the other while you cleaned yourself in a metal basin filled with cold water. Wasn’t he supposed to kill you like all other members of the royal family? You thought so, too, but didn’t speak out loud to the old woman, knowing of her poor nerves.

When several man dressed as court attendants came to your chamber in a week, they announced your marriage to the new King, and a few maids assigned to you took your screaming and cursing old nanny away, assuring you no one would harm her. You, on the other hand, were brought to the castle, an army of maids following you to what they said was your new chamber, a large room with several windows and walls decorated with peculiar floral paintings. It was beautiful, but you felt you missed that small room high up in the tower with no one but your old foolish nanny by your side.

The new King was fearsome yet fair to the ones under his control, the maids told you, all eager to speak to you as you were left alone by the guards. He was a kitchen boy once, they said, a bastard son of some lady’s maid who left him right after giving birth, afraid to be punished by her mistress. Weak and ugly with his body like a twig, the boy was smart enough to rise in his ranks over years, becoming the servant of the court magician - you saw him once or twice on your brother’s birthday celebrations, you thought. Weaving his net around all right people of the royal court for years, in the end Steven Rogers overthrew the old King, the man who cared about no one but himself, and the Queen who was more worried about her cats rather than her people dying of hunger.

The new King was a good man, all of them told you once they bathed and clothed you, combed your wild hair and put some flower oil behind your ears and on your wrists. It was good he decided to marry you, the one forgotten even by your people.

Be nice to him, they warned you before escorting you to his chambers, be gentle and choose your words right when speaking to him, and then you’ll be safe and sound. The new King wasn’t a bad man, oh no, he just suffered so much inside the castle walls.

When you entered his chambers, the ones belonging to your father before, you saw so much light coming from open windows it made you hold you breath for a second. You had only been here once - on the day when your brother, the successor to the throne, was born - yet you still remembered how dark and gloomy was the room lit by dozens of candles smelling like pig fat. It was so odd to see the same room that looked so different now.

The man standing up from a heavy mahogany desk turned towards you, and you saw his handsome face: his eyes were of dark blue color like the twilight sky; his skin pale but cheeks a bit rosy as if he had just returned from outside; when you saw his full lips, you thought they were too sensual for a man, though not that you knew much about men, anyway. Truly, the new King looked like he belonged here - maybe even more than your father, old as ancient skies, with his back hunched and crooked. He wasn’t dressed in a heavy dark mantle of your father but in an embroidered and slashed doublet, ankle-length breeches fastened with points, a sword of your father hanging by the man’s side. Oh, he looked so much more like an Ancient King than your father ever did.

“People said you are ugly.” You said, watching his face with curiosity and tilting your head to the side - your old nanny hated this habit of yours. “But I don’t think it is true.”

“I have been ugly.”

He didn’t speak loudly, yet you heard his low voice perfectly clear in the silence of this huge chamber, his expression calm but eyes unsettling.

“But one day I have drunk the potion the court magician prepared for your father, Your Highness.”

Funny, you thought, coming a little closer - you struggled to walk in this heavy crimson dress with many layers, the neckline adorned with precious stones generously. It was probably one of your mother’s dresses she never wore.

Watching his dark blonde hair shining in the sunlight, suddenly you remembered something, something you had long forgotten, and you stopped, watching the blue eyes that now seemed familiar. A little boy with his body so feeble he could get swept away by the wind. No, no, he couldn’t be. It was impossible.

“You’re the boy who fell off the Moon.” You stared at him with your eyes wide, your lips slightly open as you saw the little guy whose name you didn’t remember - the one who had fell on your balcony when you lived in the castle for a couple of months while your chamber in the tower was being repaired.

He was a funny boy, skinny as a rail with his hands so white you thought he had always been cold. When he turned up on your balcony, you had been reading and almost screamed at the loud sound of him falling. Gladly, you didn’t make a sound - the guards were everywhere in the castle, and they’d surely take him.

You remembered the boy saying he was a moon knight, showing you how he handled the invisible sword he carried and, once you two sat in front of the fireplace, he told you many stories of all places he visited and things he saw. Gladly, he disappeared before your nanny showed up, carrying a tray of food in her shaky hands, but the boy came the next day, and then the day after that, and after that one, too. He kept coming for seven more days before the reparation of your chamber had been completed, and you moved back. Sadly, he couldn’t get to the Tower, saying the angle wasn’t right to jump off the Moon.

“Yes, Your Highness. I am the boy you let into your room years ago.”

A part of you refused to believe him - the new King is too big and handsome to be the little boy whose arms were so skinny you thought you could see his bones through the skin. Besides, for many years you kept thinking the Moon knight was just a dream you saw. But what if the new King told you the truth? What if it was him?

“I remember standing on one knee in front of you and pretending giving you an invisible ring as something to remember me by when I’d return to the Moon.” His face lightened up for a couple of seconds, and suddenly you saw the familiar twinkley eyes and that shy little smile when the new King curled his lips. “Isn’t it peculiar I have been thinking about those days with you when the Royal Chef whipped me till my back bled? When I was strangling him, all I thought was the day when I see you again, Your Highness.”

Uneasiness washed over you once you heard the man talking. Living alone in the tower, you knew very little of a life in the castle, but you knew murdering someone was wrong. 

“Why did he whip you?” You asked, furrowing your brows when the man in front of you chuckled. “You killed him for that, right?”

“I killed him because he was the most disgusting son for a bitch you’d ever met, dear princess.”

You winced at his harsh words: your old nanny had never even once sworn in your presence except the day when the new King killed your father, but, of course, the man in fancy clothes knew nothing of etiquette and good manners. 

“I’ve killed the court magician, too.” The new King continued, marching to you like one of the guards you saw once in a while, and you felt the urge to retreat to your room immediately. “I’ve killed much more people, your father and mother, too, and I don’t regret it even the slightest bit.”

You made a step back, looking at his face growing darker once he sensed your fear, and you were on the verge of running away the very next moment, thinking he was going to murder you, too.

“Are you scared now, princess? Do you know what I’ve done to get so far? Do you understand who owns the castle, your tower, even you, Your Highness?” With each question he was getting closer and closer until you showed him your back and sprinted towards the heavy doors beside you, clenching your dress and lifting it up to move faster. “Do you know what I’ll do to you, darling?”

You didn’t, and you had no desire to figure it out, finally reaching the door when the man beside you pushed your body into the wood with his, his hands on the door, preventing you from leaving.

“I’ve lied and cheated; I’ve drank the potion that broke every bone in my body and healed them back; I’ve killed your father and all those who stood in my way.” His words turned into a low, guttural growl as he pressed your body into the wood. “I’ve did everything to own this goddamn castle that made me feel so unhappy, so miserable and pathetic. I loathe this place. I loathe you. God, I loathe you so much.”

He was going to kill you. Dear Lord, you should have listened to your old nanny.

“You made my feel like I was someone. It was because of you I couldn’t stay just a kitchen boy. I wanted to have what you nobles had. I wanted to control all the ones who looked down on me.” He nuzzled into your hair, and you felt his firm touch on your shoulders. “God, I wanted to have you, but, unless I had the castle, I couldn’t get to you, princess. Do you know what I’ve done to get here? Do you have the slightest idea, darling?”

“Please, don’t.” You whispered quietly, afraid to raise your voice as you felt his angry breath on your skin.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, for I’m too far gone.” Moving your dress up in haste, the new King put his knee in between your legs, ignoring your whimper. “Whatever you have, I’ll take.”

___________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @lovelydarkdaydream @ninefuckingoneone @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks

[redrobin-detective]

Delayed Mourning

Going Angst Day 5: Death

_________________________________________

It was 3pm when there was a knock on Maddie Fenton’s door. She huffed and set down the meal she’d been working on. Of course the one day she had time to pre-plan a nice meal from her family was the day she’d get interrupted. 

“Yes? May I help you?” Maddie asked, opening the door. She had expected a salesman. Possibly even a neighbor coming to complain, again, about the noise or the smells that came from Fentonworks. Instead she found a small woman who couldn’t have been much taller than 5 ft with dark brown hair tied up in a tight bun. She was wearing a sharp white shirt and suit jacket with a matching white skirt.

“Mrs. Fenton, hello,” the woman gave a polite little head nod. “I’m from the the Government Institute of Interdimensional Warfare though I hear the locals like to call us the Guys in White.” She said with a knowing smiling, “of course, as you know, it’s not only the guys who are interested in ghosts. May I come in?”

“Oh yes, hello,” Maddie blinked, opening the door to let the agent in. The petite woman stepped inside, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Her small frame, her oversized glasses and soft nature seemed so at odds with the meatheads Maddie usually found in the GIW. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Perhaps,” the agent demurred. “It’s more there was something I wanted to inform you of. If you’re not too busy, may we sit down and talk? Your husband and children are not home.” Maddie thought that last statement was a bit odd, framed as a statement of fact rather than an inquiry but moved on. 

“Yes, Jack’s out of town visiting a relative and my kids won’t be back for a little while,” Maddie said. “Let me just finish putting this roast together, I’m almost done. Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?”

“No, thank you,” The woman said quietly. “And please, continue while you’re doing. Let me give you a little bit of background.” The agent adjusted her large glasses with her tiny hands. “Let me introduce myself, you may call me Agent S. I work primarily out of Washington for the Institute but sometimes I am deployed on site for... special cases. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, your town is very special.”

“Now, as you may have noticed, I am not particularly built like the normal Institute agents you have probably come across. That is because I do not work in the field but behind the scene in Investigations. My job is study the history and happenings of hauntings and spectral entities.”

“Oh that sounds fascinating,” Maddie beamed as she finished with her final preps and put the roast in the over. She looked over her shoulder at Agent S while she washed her hands. “Jack and I dabble a bit in history and folklore but we’re more versed in the hard sciences of ghosts.”

“Yes, I’ve read some of your papers, you and your husband truly are the frontrunners in the field,” Agent S nodded. Maddie preened at the praise and sat down, delighted to have a sophisticated conversation with someone in her field who she wasn’t married to. If more of those GIW agents were like Agent S then Maddie would get along a lot better with them. “So, Maddie, may I call you Maddie? What date and time did your portal start working?”

“It was August 28th,” Maddie said proudly. “It didn’t work at first when we first plugged it in. I’m afraid I don’t have an exact time it started up as we weren’t here. Jack was convinced one of the electrical conduction pieces wasn’t fully connected and was preventing ectoplasmic distribution. We ended up driving 4 hours to Springfield and back for some specialty parts only to find the portal working when we returned.”

“I can help you there,” Agent S said with a soft smile reaching into her white briefcase and pulling out several thick folders. She laid them out gently on the table and Maddie was unnerved by some of the information: schematics of Fentonworks, past and present financial records, transcripts of public statements. Her shoulders tensed when she saw Jazz and Danny’s names on some of the files. “Toll camera captured your vehicle on the Jane Addams Memorial Tollway at exactly 1:26pm on August 28th. We can confirm you and your husband’s vehicle traveled to Springfield and back via video feeds and credit card statements at 10:45pm that same day and were therefore out of the city all day.”

Maddie suddenly felt very trapped by the woman’s sharp grey eyes as she plucked a piece of paper and pressed it towards Maddie. 

“At 3:18pm, the majority of the residential power in town went out for a period of 2 and a half hours. The cause was determined to be from a massive power surge that blew out the transformer. You may recall being blamed for this outage given your history with previous outages but the news that you were out of town settled that argument. However, I was not convinced.” She pulled out another piece of paper and Maddie bristled to see it was a Casper High attendance sheet.

“Your daughter, Jasmine was at her final summer cram session which ran from 2pm until 5pm. I spoke to her tutors and she never left the whole time and, in fact, stayed late to help a fellow student work through her study materials. But what about your son?” Agent S asked with with a curious smile but her eyes belied the fact that she had her own answers. 

“How dare you spy on my family, on my children,” Maddie hissed, crumpling one of the papers in her fist. “Get out of my house, I will sue the pants off of your organization for this invasion of privacy! Get out!”

“Now Maddie, don’t you want to know how your son started up your Portal?” Agent S asked coyly, that drew Maddie up short. Danny? No, he couldn’t have possibly. He had no interest in their work, in fact, now that she thought about it, Danny had been sick that day. Agent S pulled out a set of blueprints for the Fenton Portal. Some small component inside the Portal was circled.

“You left at approximately 1pm and your daughter presumably left not long after. Phone records indicate Daniel called both Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson. Your neighbor, Mrs. Benson, saw them coming into your house not long after but before the 3pm power outage which I was able to triangulate did in fact originate from your home.” Agent S tapped the circled part of the inner portal mechanisms. “Now did you happen to push the on button in the Portal before plugging it in?”

“On button?” Maddie asked with a dry mouth, overwhelmed by the amount of information being thrown her way. All she could think about was how Danny hadn’t seemed sick when they’d left that afternoon but had looked awful when they returned. Would he have really gone downstairs and messed with the Portal? Had he gotten hurt? Been contaminated down there? Images of Vlad’s sickly visage after his accident flowed through her head. She should have paid more attention but she’d been so excited about the Portal working...

“It’s right here in the blueprints you submitted to the patent office, buried under dozens of other hardware bits. Its small, such a little thing compared to all the moving parts required to open up a dimensional portal. Daniel was a bright boy, his middle school records prove it. A bright mind, friends to impress, no parents around to chastise him... I think you can see where I’m going with this.”

“No, no,” Maddie said, burying her hands in her hair. “No, I’m not. You’re saying -what? - that my teenage son turned on the Portal when we were gone? No, my Danny wouldn’t lie to me about that... Why wouldn’t he say anything?”

“I don’t blame him for not mentioned in because, if my hunch is correct, he was inside the Portal when it turned on, killing him instantly,” Agent S said with a carefully neutral face. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I’m afraid this haunting has gone on long enough.”

“My child is alive!” Maddie screeched, standing up in her chair. “Danny is alive and healthy and he is not a ghost!”

“I will admit the evidence of how he died is circumstantial but the fact that Danny Fenton is deceased is not.” Maddie fell back into her chair as he legs gave out underneath her. 

She watched the agent put paper after paper in front of her and detailed all sorts of data about her son that Maddie, who lived in the same house as him, had missed. Unusually high ectosignatures picked up by GIW (and their own) detectors, Danny being spotted in some form before most ghost attacks, faked signatures of hers getting him out of nurses’ visits. Maddie barely felt alive herself as she stared at a red light camera photo of her baby sitting atop a light post late, late at night. His eyes were a toxic green color.

“I know this must be distressing as a mother but your child never left that basement, never attended high school and will never achieve his dream of working for NASA.” Agent S said with carefully measured sympathy as she gathered up her papers and put them back in her case. “But you are a brilliant scientist, unlike your husband, you should be able to look past your emotions and see that your child is gone and the ghost he left behind is dangerous.”

“My husband?” Maddie asked blankly, running a finger down Danny’s unnatural photograph.

“I approached Jack two days ago, mistakenly believing he would be the most understanding of you both. He refused to believe the evidence and was, in fact, going to warn your son’s ghost that we planned on taking him. He is safe but he presently being held at one of our facilities until the capture is complete.” Maddie should feel outraged at her husband’s kidnapping but all she could think about was the fact that her son was dead, dead, dead, killed by her own invention over a year ago and she never noticed. How could she not have noticed?

“Daniel’s ghost is extraordinary, not only able to pass as human so accurately for so long but immensely powerful. We need to make sure he doesn’t harm anyone else. Think of his friends who are probably being forced to aid him and keep his death quiet. Think of your husband, your daughter, living in the same house as a dangerous ghost.” Agent S dropped some of her professionalism and plucked the photo of Danny out of Maddie’s hands and replaced it with her own tiny hand. 

“I know this is impossible thing to ask but I must do it anyway, will you help me capture what remains of Danny? There is a chance with his charade exposed, he will be able to move on and so will you. You have been wronged, Maddie. You have been denied the right to process and grieve your child by his own ghost. But a delayed mourning is better than none. Danny’s death is a tragedy but please don’t let it become someone else’s.”

“Maybe he’s not-” Maddie’s breath hitched, “he’s never shown any signs of aggression. Jasmine spoke of benevolent spirits... maybe-” Agent S sighed roughly and retracted her hand to grab another photo from her case. Maddie was surprised when she held up a picture of Phantom. 

“Ignore the glow,” Agent S instructed. “Change his white hair to black, his green eyes to blue. Think of how often Phantom is spotted in your neighborhood, around Casper High. Remember how he always has his hands on your technology,” the agent frowned. “Think of how he grins when he sees you, like he knows something you don’t. Like it all just a big joke you’re not a part of.” Maddie felt like she’d been slapped.

“Your son is dead,” Agent S said more forcefully, throwing the picture of Phantom next to the spooky one of Danny. “And his ghost has taken his place, taunting you, stealing energy from your family, from the portal that killed him. Phantom’s power is increasing too rapidly and soon we won’t be able to contain him. It’s why I was brought in to identify his haunt so that he could be stopped before anyone else died.”

“I will state this plainly, I am giving you the chance to participate in putting your child to rest but you are not required for this operation. If you refuse, you will be confined with your husband until Phantom is taken down. Do not let this monster with your son’s face trick you any more. So I ask again, Maddie Fenton, will you help us stop Phantom from making a mockery of your son’s memory?”

XxX

“Mom! Jazz! I’m home!” Danny announced, kicking off his shoes and grabbing a paper out of his backpack as he walked into the kitchen with a grin. “And I have a present! Jazz’s tutoring paid off, look at this A I got on my history test! Well A- but a solid A-!” 

“Oh... that’s great,” Mom muttered quietly. She was sitting at the kitchen table, not cooking or tinkering with some gadget. Just sitting there quietly, twiddling her thumbs and not looking at him.

“Is everyone okay?” Danny asked, dropping his bag on the floor and walking over to his mother. “I saw Jazz at school but is Dad okay?”

“No, everything is not okay,” she said turning and looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “Someone died, someone I love dearly and I’m not ready to let them go,” she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “But they've been gone for a long time, even if I’m just hearing about it now. I’m upset but it’s better to know and be grieve than to go on in ignorance, living a lie.”

Danny was about to ask who had died when something was jammed into his neck and he was shocked within an inch of his half life. His body spasmed to escape but his mother was gripping his arm to hold him in place. He transformed unconsciously but that only made it worse. He fell to the floor, ectoplasm leaking off his form as he could barely hold himself together.

“Mom,” he croaked, reaching for her despite everything. She stomped on his hand which was practically goo from such a vicious, destabilizing ectoplasmic shock.

“Don’t you ever call me that,” she hissed through angry tears. “I didn’t want to believe it but the proof is right in front of me you horrible, selfish ghost.” She kicked him in the side and half of him ended up on her boot. “How dare you, how dare you impersonate my son! How dare you string me along all this time, make me look like a fool who had to told that her own child was dead! I bet you just laughed and laughed at our stupid, human ignorance of what your were!”

“‘lease,” he begged through the ectoplasm in his mouth. “I’m still your....”

“My son is dead and he has been for a while,” Mom said, throwing the ecto-taser away from her. Danny vaguely heard the door being kicked in and in his rapidly diminishing vision, he saw black boots and white suits. “With you gone, I can finally come to terms with it and not be tormented by an inadequate replacement.” She turned her back to him. “Get that filth out of my house, I never want to see it again.”

“Of course,” a quiet feminine voice said as his goopy arms were restrained with ghost proof cuffs. “I know this is hard, Maddie but you made the right choice for your family and Danny’s memory. Jack will returned to you within the hour. I spoke to my superiors, for your cooperation, the Institute will take care of declaring Danny dead as well as covering costs for your boy to be laid to rest, the first step in moving on.”

“No, the first step will be removing that duplicitous monster from my home. It’s stolen enough of my baby’s life. Now please leave, I have - I have a funeral to plan.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 6)

Summary: The reader and Jensen discuss their relationship moving forward while Jensen learns more about the reader’s family situation. He still has a bad feeling about something though and his gut may prove to be right...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 5,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, mention of prior suicide attempt, minor violence

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

You woke up to Jensen bundled up in bed, covers tugged to his chin as he sleepily watched you stretching in bed. You giggled at him and his bed head, rolling closer and kissing him good morning.

“That is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” you said.

“Obviously you don’t look at the mirror much,” he said. You smiled and he reached his arm under the covers, putting a hand on your waist. You scooted over, Jensen blinking slowly. “We need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” you asked. He bopped your nose and you smiled, tucking down into the sheets. 

“Do you want a relationship?” he asked.

“Do you?”

“It would make my job...difficult.”

“Oh.”

“Not impossible. Just difficult.”

“Is it any more difficult than it was? I mean honestly. What’ll have changed? You still keep me safe and I still hide and run if you say so.”

“That part hasn’t changed. But there is something that has. A wildcard factor. Wildcard factors aren’t great in this job.”

“What’s a wildcard?”

“In a dangerous situation, if we were in a relationship, there’s the potential that you would do something to put yourself in harm’s way to protect me.”

“If that happened, regardless of us being in a relationship, if your ass is on the line, I can’t guarantee I do as told.”

“I don’t like that answer.”

“Jensen, if we do this, you need to trust me. I will do what you tell me when it comes to threats but I can’t say for sure that I won’t try to help you if I can.”

“So if it comes down to it, you’ll do whatever you want in the end.”

“Exactly.”

“If when I’m in bodyguard mode, you do what I say...I will learn to be okay with that very small possibility.”

“Good choice,” you said. You slid a hand around his back and traced up and down his spine, feeling a thin line raised on the skin. “What happened there?”

“Not advised to jump from of a speeding vehicle,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and he chuckled. “I was four wheeling once. Went off trail accidentally. Had to ditch my ride in a hurry. A bit of gravel-”

“Liar,” you said quietly. You smiled and he looked over your head.

“How’d you know?”

“I’m pretty good at knowing when people are acting,” you said. “You get it in combat?”

“Shrapnel got my vest.”

“You’re still lying.”

“It’s not pleasant. I’d rather not...scare you.”

“You don’t scare me,” you said.

“I was held captive once. Very, very briefly. I got a little beat up,” he said. 

“You?” you asked, Jensen nodding, sliding his hand up and playing with the end of your hair. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”

“Thanks. I don’t like to talk about that stuff a lot,” he said. 

“If you ever change your mind, I’m a good listener,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said. “You like scrambled eggs?”

“Who doesn’t?” you asked. He smirked and kissed your cheek before he popped out of bed. 

“Well I’m about to blow your mind with the Ackles special,” he said. He walked around the bed and picked up his underwear, turning when he noticed you watching him. You looked him up and down, Jensen laughing to himself. “I saw you checking me out when I was swimming you know.”

You groaned and pulled the sheets over your head. He moved around for a moment and you felt the sheets come down, Jensen leaning over you.

“I had to tease a bit, make sure things were mutual,” he said. 

“Of course you did.” You stretched and yawned, closing your eyes.

“Doing anything fun with your family today?”

“Shopping with my mom will be fun. I’m not the biggest shopper but she likes it. We’ll get lunch, hit a few stores, get a massage after. I think Chuck and the guys are going looking at houses for the boys. Sounds like they might get a place together again.”

“Would you like your brothers to live closer?” he asked. You sat up and held the covers to your chest, Jensen handing you his shirt. You pulled it on over yourself, shrugging as you sat on your knees. “Why do you interact with them if you don’t like them?”

“How long have your parents been married?”

“All my life. Before that,” he said.

“No step siblings, half siblings?”

“My brother and sister share the same parents I do,” he said. “I don’t quite know what it’s like to live in a family like that I guess.”

“My mom went to a very dark place after my dad died. I didn’t know how to fix it. Chuck made her laugh for the first time in six months. He made her smile. He helped her and she helped him too. His wife died earlier on that year. He made her so happy, makes her so happy. I will put up with a few mean step-brothers to never see her go to that place again.”

“I would understand if they resented your mom but it’s you it seems they don’t like.”

“I was the youngest by quite a bit. Chuck would spend time with me. I think the boys were jealous and they probably could have done with more time with their father back then. They’d lost their mom that year too. But I needed him, mom needed him, he was mourning himself...he did the best job he could considering how fucked up we all were. They’re both successful. I just don’t think they liked having a little sister honestly.”

“Sucks for them. Little sisters are cool,” he said with a smile. “My big brother loves to mess with me but he doesn’t treat me the way those two do.”

“Well, even if they move here, I don’t have to hang out with them,” you said. You crawled into his lap and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “I heard someone’s a little cocky about their scrambled eggs.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know,” he said. He stood up with you before letting you get your feet under you. You pulled on your underwear and followed him downstairs, whistling as you took in his backside. “Y/N…”

“My bodyguard is hot and he should know it,” you said. He shook his head and headed into the kitchen humming to himself as he started to make up some breakfast for the two of you. The doorbell rang and you groaned. “I bet that’s my mom, early as always. I’ll get her out of here.”

“You don’t have to,” he said.

“I plan on doing things to you after breakfast and I do not want her around for that,” you said. He laughed as you padded down the hall and to the front door. You cracked it open a smidge and saw a man in a suit standing there, his back to you. He spun around with a smile and you nodded. “Oh, hi Jake.”

“Good morning!” he said. “I apologize for being late this morning, my car-”

“The meeting,” you said, slapping yourself in the face. “I totally blanked on it.”

“That’s alright. Is now a good time?” he asked. You looked down at yourself and peeked back around the door. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah! It’s perfect, all perfect,” you said.

“You’re not...are you sure-” he said before Jensen was suddenly stepping into view and pushing you behind the door. “Good morning, Mr. Ackles. You uh, appear to be missing most of your clothes.”

“It seems I am,” said Jensen. “Ms. Y/L/N is very well. She would like to reschedule for ten am if that’s possible.”

“Uh…” he said before you rolled your eyes and opened the door all the way. You stared at him and he looked between you both. “Oh. Gotcha. You two…”

“Mhm,” hummed Jensen, crossing his arms.

“Jake would you mind setting up in my office? It’s just down the hall. Jensen and I were about to eat breakfast. We’ll only be fifteen or so minutes,” you said. He stepped inside and you pointed the way, Jensen pouting as you headed back into the kitchen. “Oh, I’m still gonna do things to you. Just tonight, pouty boy.”

“Alright. You told me David was going to be your manager I thought,” he said, going back to the fridge to get the eggs.

“Well I went with Jake. Is that a problem?

“No. I need to be made aware of decisions like that though. I’m going to have to work with him quite a bit for events, your work schedule, that stuff,” he said. 

“I thought you’d be happy. You said you liked him.”

“I do. I am happy. I’m just not happy that you didn’t tell me.”

“He’s been my manager for like a day, calm down,” you said. He put his hands on the counter and you saw him drop his head, his back to you. “Jensen, no evil person is out there looking to snatch me away the second you turn your head. It was one day.”

“In the future, please make me aware of staff changes when they happen?” he asked. He looked back at you, his face softer than you were expecting.

“Okay,” you said. While he whisked some eggs in a bowl, you walked over beside him, watching over his arm. “Looks good.”

“I haven’t even done anything yet,” he chuckled. You rested your head against his arm, Jensen adding in some spices to the mixture. You scooted up on the counter as he went to the stove, watching him scramble them on low, pouring in a dash of cream.

“Can I ask why the Jake thing bothered you?” you said quietly. He scrambled the eggs for a minute before sliding them onto a few plates.

“Because I have a bad feeling that there is someone out there that wants to hurt you and I have nothing to go off of besides a gut feeling and trusting that you’ll be honest with me, always. You didn’t do anything. I overreacted.”

He got out a pair of forks from the drawer, handing you one along with a plate.

“Your gut feelings are normally right?” you asked, taking a bite of the eggs.

“Normally. They were at the restaurant,” he said. You nodded, putting a hand on your arm where a barely there bruise was. “I’m sorry if I hurt you that night.”

“I get hurt worse walking into a wall cause I’m dumb. You had me on the ground before I even knew what was going on and stopped that guy from doing who knows what to everyone. I’m not sorry about that.” He was quiet but gave you a nod. “Your eggs are great. Permission to brag granted.”

“Thanks,” he said, the doorbell ringing again. “I better get dressed. We’re gonna talk about getting a gate at the end of the driveway too by the way.”

“I second that,” you said as you heard the front door open. “Oh my God, my mother, just walks wherever she wants.”

He took off upstairs, ducking down the hall just as she walked into the kitchen.

“Hi mom,” you said. “You are...three hours early.”

“I know, you have work things. I wanted to make you some food you can have for leftovers the next few days. You have hardly any food in your house,” she said.

“Ma, I can barely cook and most of the time, I don’t have the actual time,” you said. She rolled her eyes and you hopped off the counter.

“Well I’m here so might as well,” she said. You glanced up to the balcony and saw Jensen pop into view wearing some jeans and a long sleeve henley. His holster was clipped on under his shirt and you smiled as he came down. “Oh, good morning, Jensen.”

“Mrs. Y/L/N,” he said.

“Any particular reason my daughter is wearing your shirt and no pants?”

“Uh,” he said, opening his mouth when she made a face.

“Two plates of eggs? You think I was born yesterday?”

“No mam. Your observational skills are impressive,” he said. 

“Mom, could you lay off. We like, just started dating,” you said.

“Can you cook?” she asked him.

“A bit,” he said.

“Bodyguard, he can cook and he’s handsome. He’s fine by me,” she said. You put your head in your hands, your mom whacking your shoulder. “You’re so overdramatic. Now get out of my kitchen. We’ll get lunch and shop later. I assume Jensen is coming with us?”

“I would love to spend the day with you ladies but I trust you two will be okay on your own. I’d like to go over some things with Y/N’s new manager if Y/N’s okay with that,” said Jensen.

“You will join us for dinner though, won’t you? We’re going out with Chuck and the boys. Our treat,” she said.

“Mom,” you said, getting a look from her. “Jensen always goes out with me at night, that’s our rule. I’ll pay for his meal.”

“But we’re taking you kids-”

“He is my employee. You don’t-”

“He’s your boyfriend who happens to work for you. I’m paying for his dinner, alright?” she said. You held up your hands and padded out of the kitchen, Jensen following you upstairs. 

“I’m sorry about her,” you said back in your bedroom as you started to pick up last night’s clothes. “She’s-”

“She misses her daughter. She’s happy I’m here. It helps her sleep better at night,” he said. “Told me herself.”

“I love her. I love her to death but I was a kid when my dad died. I know it was hard for her but for six months, until she met Chuck, she acted like I didn’t exist. She likes to forget that sometimes.”

“People grieve differently,” he said. “Still, it wasn’t on you to do that.”

He took the dirty clothes from your hand and cupped your cheek, kissing your temple quickly. 

“Don’t know how anyone could not notice you. Good thing I get paid to stare at you all day,” he smirked. You lightly smacked his chest, Jensen giggling. “As much as it pains me to say it, get that tush dressed. We’ve got a very long meeting with your manager this morning.”

That Afternoon

“What about this one?” asked your mom, holding up a dress.

“You know I hate award shows,” you said.

“I mean for tonight. Or a date with Jensen sometime,” she said. You did your best to keep your face neutral but she caught the slight down turn of your lips. She slammed the dress back on the rack and put her hands on her hips. “What? All morning you have been short with me.”

“Mom I just started dating him like half an hour before you got to the house. You are going way too fast. I have dresses and I honestly wasn’t even going to say anything until it got more serious.”

“You pay him to protect your life. How much serious does it need to get?” she asked. You rolled your eyes and she made a face. “You barely pick up the phone and talk to me anymore.”

“Cause you changed after dad and not in a good way. For a little while, I lost both my parents. Even after Chuck, you two were so involved with each other you didn’t spend as much time as me as you did before dad died. When I was a teenager, when I really needed my mom, you weren’t there all the time. I’m sorry I grew up to be independent. But-”

“Do you think I don’t realize that? I know I made mistakes,” she said. She sighed and took a seat on a bench outside a waiting room. “I just want you to be happy and Jensen...I haven’t seen a smile on your face like that since before Brian died. He makes you happy, even when you two looked so annoyed with one another earlier in the week, he would stare and you would stare. I feel good about this one. I just want you to enjoy falling in love, if you do end up going that route with him.”

You sat down next to her and shrugged, crossing your arms. You leaned back against the wall and rubbed your sneaker against the floor.

“How do you know that’s your guy,” you asked quietly. “I mean, you’ve done it twice. How do you know?”

“It was different with Chuck. I was slower to admit to myself that I was in love with him. Your father was very quickly. I didn’t share that information with him until much later but I knew, a part of me, the part you don’t justify with logic or facts or details, that part always knew. It knew with them both. Nowhere does it say you only have to have one soulmate. I know you don’t want to hear that but I love them both equally, Y/N.”

“Mom, I love Chuck. It’s not the same as dad but I do. He makes you happy and he tries to be a dad to me but he gives me the space I need too. I’m happy you have him. I’m happy we both do.”

“Why do ask how you know the man you’re with is the one?” she asked. “Or are you asking because that part you can’t explain already told you something you’re not even willing to think yet.”

“I was curious was all,” you said as you stood.

“You’re a horrible actor,” she said. You pushed on her shoulder and she laughed. “Fine, fine. No more boy talk. Let’s try another store. I’m at the very least not letting you walk out of this mall without a new pair of heels.”

Later That Night

“Y/N?” asked Jensen outside your bedroom as he knocked on the door. You checked the back of your fancy bun one last time in the mirror before you walked out and into the room.

“One sec,” you said, bending down and putting on the five inch heels, zipping them up in the back. After a moment of looking yourself over in the mirror in a sleek, mostly backless black dress, you opened up the door. Jensen was in a tailored black suit with a deep navy tie. “You look-”

“Wow,” he said, looking you up and down. “You look so fancy.”

“Fancy?” you laughed. “Is this because you hardly ever catch me out of my sweats?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the sweats and the leggings. I love all of it,” he said. 

“You look very handsome,” you said, skirting past him and hearing a quiet whistle. “Knew you’d appreciate that.”

“Damn right I do,” he said as he caught up. “Ready to head out?”

“After you.”

“That’s great you guys found a house,” you said an hour later at the restaurant, mouth full of some cheese fries. Nick rolled his eyes at you and you licked your lips. “Wha? I’m hungry.”

“Actually it’s for mom and me,” said Chuck. You raised an eyebrow and he smiled. “I’m a writer so I can work from anywhere and your mom got offered a great position at a clinic here.”

“That’s great guys. I’d love to get to see you more,” you said. You looked at Michael and he had a curious smile on his face. “Did you get a house too?”

“Penthouse apartment hopefully. We’re looking at some tomorrow. Gonna be on my own for the first time. Nick and I talked and he’s not sure if he really wants to move out here yet. We decided we’d see what it’s like living apart for the first time,” he said. 

“Worst case I can always get a professor job at one of the colleges if I change my mind while I try to get into a school district,” said Nick while he played with the remnants of some crust on his plate. 

“You’ll come eventually,” said Chuck. “Get everyone living in the same timezone again. It’ll be good.”

“So are you two like a thing now?” asked Michael to you, looking as innocent as could be while he hid his shit eating grin.

“Yes,” you deadpanned. Jensen looked up from his salad but you went back to eating. For the most part the evening was what you were expecting. Your step-brothers acting oh so pleasant in front of your parents and Jensen getting a few questions about his job. You did smile though when Jensen was able to upstage Michael about some law usage. You were pretty sure even Michael was impressed with him at that point.

“That went well,” said Jensen an hour later after you’d parted ways with your family and were walking back to your car. “Michael’s growing on me. He seemed better tonight. Nick not so much.”

“I’m actually really proud of him for getting his own place. I get that they’re twins but they’re in their thirties. Neither one of them has had a girlfriend in years.”

“Michael’s like a workaholic though,” said Jensen, holding your hand when you walked past a guy in a jacket with his hood up.

“True. Maybe he’ll cut back some out here.”

“How do you think Nick will handle that?” he asked. You stopped walking and pulled out your phone. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t particularly like Nick most of the time, don’t get me wrong. But he might do something stupid,” you said as you dialed your brother. It rang a few times before he answered.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Hey Nick. You want to come over tomorrow while Michael apartment hunts?”

“Uh, sure,” he said and you knew he must have been around your parents still.

“Great. Come over around noon. We’ll have lunch and a swim or something.”

“Okay. See ya.”

You shook your head before you were walking again, Jensen bumping your shoulder.

“Something I need to know about?” he asked.

“The file you did on Nick, what’d you find.”

“Arrest record for when he was young. A few drunk and disorderlies, nothing Michael couldn’t ever get cleared up for him. Hospital stay for a few days in his twenties when he fell down some wet stairs. I’m going to go ahead and guess out of all of that he didn’t fall, did he.”

“No,” you said as you stopped outside your car.

“What happened?”

“I came home from school early and Nick had tried to kill himself,” you said. Jensen blinked a few times and you let out a dry laugh. “It’s hard to surprise you but I think that took the cake.”

“You need to tell me everything.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a threat to you. You can’t see it but I can. He doesn’t like you and if he’s tried that before, it means-”

“Can we talk about this at home?” you said when you saw someone down the street recognize you. He nodded and they wandered up, asking for a few pictures. You posed and put on a smile, Jensen watching careful with a hard look in his eye.

“Woah, woah,” said Jensen half an hour later as you sat in the family room at one end of the couch in some sweats and an oversized tee, Jensen sporting a similar look but wearing the hoodie you’d given him. He had a notebook by his side but he’d put it on the coffee table in favor of throwing his hands up. “He tried to do it in your bedroom? He left a note on your bed?”

“My closet,” you said. “My closet had attic access so he’d tied a rope up on a beam. He had just kicked the chair away when I walked in. I was skipping last period. Senior year and all.”

“What’d you do?”

“It was very obvious that Nick knew he’d made a mistake. I grabbed him and held him up as best I could until he could untie himself. He fell down pretty hard cause I couldn’t hold him anymore and landed on all the junk lying on my closet floor. He told me we were gonna lie and say he fell down some stairs to account for all the bruises.”

“Why’d you help him lie?”

“Cause I thought he tried to kill himself because of me. I thought he hated me that much. He was in my bedroom after all,” you said.

“You read the note?”

“Jensen-”

“I need to know, Y/N.”

“Why?”

“Because my job is to protect you from threats. If your step-brother doesn’t like you and now his whole family is moving away from him to be closer to you, depending on a lot of things, this could get messy.”

“Jensen-”

“Did you read it?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And?” For a moment you looked past him and outside, Jensen’s foot nudging yours. “I’m sorry but I gotta know.”

“He felt like a failure. He was in the car with his mom when she died. He saw how well Michael did and I did and he felt distant from his dad and he felt like his life was crumbling around him and honestly, he wanted to go be with his mom again. He felt like he didn’t belong. I fucking bawled reading it.”

“You guys ever talk about it or was it over like that?”

“I slapped him in the face and told him he was pathetic. His mom, my dad, they didn’t get a choice to live or die. I was so angry at him. He apologized and he promised me that if he ever felt like that again, he’d tell me. A few years later, he came to me and thought he might do something stupid.”

“His teaching sabbatical he went on.”

“He got some professional help. I paid for it all. He stayed out here, nearby. I visited him everyday on the way into work. He got better. He learned a lot about himself, how to cope, how to deal with things in his life. He still sees a therapist every week I pay for on the down low.”

“He’s no threat to you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he loves you and you love him, even if you don’t like one another or act like you care. If something bad were to happen, he would help you and you’re gonna do it right back.”

“How do-”

“Because your step-brothers who are assholes to you at times, they wanted to ensure that I would protect you when I first met them. I think it’s finally all clicking into place,” he said. “Hence why you never say a word about their behavior to your mom.”

“I will take prickly siblings over dead ones, even if I didn’t pick them,” you said.

“Are you worried Nick will take a bad turn with everyone else moving here?”

“I don’t know. I know he associates this place with bad memories, some of his darkest memories. I don’t blame him for not wanting to live here,” you said. Jensen nodded and ran his thumb over his lips. He propped his elbow on the back of the couch, resting his head in it.

“I’ve always thought you were kind. But helping your brother like that, in secret when I’m sure you want to tell your family, that’s not easy.”

“Yes, it is. There was never really a decision to be made though. The only one was to tell my parents and Michael and as long as Nick is honest with me, I will keep his secrets from them.”

“You’re more loyal than some of the people I served with,” he said, looking out the back windows. “It’s only an easy decision if you’re a good person. I wish I’d worked with more of those.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked. He smiled and ruffled his hair, frowning after a moment.

“Jared saved my life you know. After I healed up, I transferred to his unit.”

“He’s a good guy to call your friend,” you said. He hummed and you crawled over to him, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m glad we’re finally friends.”

“Me too,” he said. He pulled you into his lap and rested his head on your shoulder. Your fingers ran through his hair, eyes drawn down to how his back flexed and relaxed. “Sorry for playing twenty questions with Nick. I won’t say a word to anyone, including him.”

“S’okay. Just doing your job.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost nine. Why?”

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“Counter offer. We make out in my hot tub and then go to bed.”

“Counter counter offer. I make ice cream sundaes we eat in said hot tub and then make out and then go to bed.”

“I’ve always had a thing for intelligent men,” you said. You kissed his cheek and he chuckled. “You’ve never seen me in a bikini before, have you.”

“I’m in for a treat then, aren’t I?” he said. “Go on and change.”

“I’ll meet you out there,” you said. You departed from him and headed upstairs, poking around in your closet for the perfect one to put on. You spotted him come out of the hall in his orange and blue striped shorts, a whistle on his lips as he jogged downstairs. In your closet you took a seat on the small bench, holding up your black teeny tiny bikini and your aqua blue that honestly made your butt look great.

You opted for the black top and blue bottoms to get the best of both worlds. You were midway through pulling your shirt off when you heard Jensen come in the room.

“Oh come on-” you said, something whacking you in the back of the head. Instantly you fell down, strong arms catching you. You looked up wearily, someone in a black mask looking down at you. The eyes weren’t green and you kneed him, putting an elbow to the back of the guy’s neck and making him groan. You got to your feet as fast as possible and sprinted out of the room. “Jensen!”

You knew you weren’t going to make it to the stairs without the guy catching you so you grabbed the railing and vaulted over the balcony to the ground below. You rolled when you hit the ground, spotting Jensen by the base of the stairs. Your eyes spun upwards, Jensen following your gaze and seeing the man standing there. You turned and saw Jensen running towards you, a loud thud right beside you. The man was on the first floor now and you ducked down, missing his arms as you dove into the dining room. By the time you had your head up, you saw Jensen tackling the guy, a gun going flying out of the intruder’s hands.

You stood up, watching the two of them wrestle, the intruder getting a good hit on Jensen’s face. 

“Y/N, go!” you heard Jensen yelling at you, the pounding in your ears finally growing a little quieter. Jensen told you when you were going over his book of rules that was the adrenaline in your system, trying to get your body to only focus on survival. The gun was laying fairly close to you and you heard Jensen shout, eyes darting over to see he had a cut on the back of his shoulder. 

He had Jensen pinned face down and was working on restraining him. He was still shouting at you and the man looked up the second he had pulled the tie taut. You ran over and picked up the gun, the man revealing a knife.

“Put that down or I kill him,” he said. You swallowed, Jensen yelling a frenzy of things at you, all of which involved you running away as fast as possible. Instead you aimed the gun and fired, the man falling backwards as it hit his vest. 

You ran over and kicked the knife he dropped away, keeping the gun on him as Jensen rolled over to it and cut himself free. He gave you a dirty look but searched the guys pockets and found more restraints, slipping some on the intruder before taking the gun out of your hands.

“Call the police. Now,” said Jensen. 

________

A/N: Read Part 7 here!

[shades-of-stony]

ABO Stony AUs! (Part 2)

As promised, here is part 2! [link to Part 1] I’m not sure if I’m gonna make part 3 but there are still a bit ABO fics left. 

A King For Christmas by iam93percentstardust

Summary: In 1867, Tony Stark flees New York after refusing to marry the alpha his parents chose for him. His money runs out in the small kingdom of Dacia, ruled over by King Steven of the Rogers line. Somehow, and he’s not entirely sure how, he ends up accepting the position of nanny to the king’s four children: Harley, Peter, Sarah, and Morgan.

Tony bonds with the children easily but their father is harder to get to know. Steve is still grieving his wife’s death four years earlier. His continued mourning has turned the once bright halls into dark and somber shadows of their former glory. Tony isn’t entirely certain what he can do but he knows that he has to do something or else the whole country, so attuned to their leader, will sink into despair. He begins by reconciling the king with his young children.

Meanwhile, the children have decided that it’s high time their father fall in love again—and Tony is the obvious choice. They concoct elaborate plans to force the two together, hardly realizing that Steve and Tony are falling in love, not through their shenanigans but through the quiet moments they share bonding over the love they have for the children.

What, Like It’s Hard? by JehBeeEh

Summary: Omega Tony Stark has it all, until his alpha boyfriend breaks his heart. In an effort to win him back, he follows the alpha of his dreams to Harvard Law School, where he discovers there might be more to being the first omega at the prestigious school. He also meets another alpha that might just make him forget the one he drove across the country for.

Two-Point Perspective by FestiveFerret for sabrecmc

Dear omega,

Congratulations! You've been selected. Alpha #95847872 has been assigned as your pre-bondee. A group bonding ceremony will take place on the 14th, unless other arrangements have been made by your alpha or their family. A valid bonding license must be submitted to Omega Services within 45 days of this letter or all services will be cancelled and any transferable benefits will not be applied to your alpha's package.

If there is some reason why you cannot be bonded on this date, please apply for an extension by calling 1-800-555-6827 within 7 days of receiving this letter.

Sincerely, National Omega Services

I Love You (From the Bottom to the Top) by RomancebyFaye for Reioka

Summary: Steve and Tony have a great relationship. They may have only been dating for a few months, but the truth is, they had been in love for years before that. Their relationship is only getting better from adding this new intimacy and Steve is very satisfied with how open Tony is in the bedroom. He’s giving and generous, sometimes to a fault, just as he is with everything.

And then Steve comes home early and catches sight of something he wasn’t meant to see. The shock he gets from the sight of watching his alpha ride a toy might not have been meant for him, but it doesn't stop him from wanting.

Now, if he can just figure out how to tell Tony how much he wants what he witnessed without putting his foot in his mouth…

Or Tony offers Steve something in the bedroom and Steve misunderstands the offer.

Until he doesn’t.

A Prime, Divided by avengersasssemble

Summary: Facing his and his infant son's possible death sentence, young prince Tony runs away to the only place where his father would dare not follow: the Northern Territories, known to house the most savage and brutal Alphas--including their bloodthirsty leader, the Prime Alpha. Forced to navigate fatherhood and diplomacy while being unable to speak the Northern language, Tony has to make decisions to save his son, even at his own expense.

Oversight by ShyOwl

Summary: It really wasn’t Steve’s fault that no one knew he was an omega.

I Love You 3000 by NazakiSama166

Summary: After the death of his husband, the only thing Steven Rogers could think of was going on and dying in one of his missions, and Steven was happy to get his wish.... that was until he woke up in a strange universe when people can shift into wolves and men can get pregnant... Oh, and did he mention that Tony was there too and was in love with his younger jackass self? And let's not forget about Peggy...

Life just loves to mess with him...

Dear Enemy by AvengersNewB

Summary: Alpha Steve and omega Tony are SHIELD agents who don't always see eye to eye, but some benefits on the side help them work things out in the most non-traditional way. Steve's jealousy after an unfortunate encounter with Ty Stone, however, makes things complicated.

Love Match by FestiveFerret

Summary: Tony had but one goal for the season: secure a marriage proposal from an alpha with the position and means enough to remove him from his father's house. Love was wholly irrelevant to the matter. 

Stuck in a... by  Annie D (scaramouche)

Summary: Steve gets into a serum-enhanced rut. Tony figures that there’d be a long list of people who’d volunteer to help Steve out, but there’s only one person Steve wants.

A Late-Night Snacks, and Other Good Ideas by  Annie D (scaramouche)

Summary: Steve's heightened senses means that he always knows when Tony's in heat. One night, he finally does something about it.

citrus and lavender by JehBeeEh  

Summary: Steve laid Tony on his bed as delicately as he could manage. Which was ridiculous because he knew, logically, that Tony was absolutely fine. JARVIS himself had told him. And that’s 100% why he had fought Natasha so hard on Tony not needing to go to medical when they came back, even though he probably could use the check up. Yup. That was definitely the only reason he had insisted on bringing Tony back to the penthouse. No other reason at all. If you keep this up, you just might start believing it, he thought to himself ruefully. Tony wasn’t his. He had made it very clear that he didn’t need some alpha in his life to mess with everything he’d worked so hard to accomplish. Especially not Steve Rogers.

Found Love in a Hopeless Place by crispybacon

Summary: Steve really, really did not want to tag along with his brother to the bar, no matter how many times the jerk nagged him that he needed to get laid. Just because Bucky’s known his Omega since kindergarten, and the pair have loud obnoxious sex in their shared small two bedroom apartment, didn’t mean Steve needed to stick his knot in any Omega that looks his way.

That’s not the kind of Alpha Steve was.

Or, Steve goes to a bar and meets an Omega with a complicated past that changes his life forever.

This is Not a Drill by sabrecmc

Summary: “Can I—can I see him? I mean meet him. Uh…welcome him to the team?” Tony clarified, probably not very well, he knew.

“Well…there’s a bit of an issue with that,” Fury said, and Tony figured this was where Fury got to whatever it was that had really forced his hand and made him call Tony in, knowing how much the man detested having to do so. “You see, well. He was suspended in the ice for nearly seventy years,” Fury began. Tony nodded along, because he could do math.

“I’m sure he has a lot of adjusting to do—“ Tony started.

“Seventy years,” Fury repeated, cutting Tony off and leaning back in his chair and making it rock slightly. “Of no suppressants.”

“Oh,” Tony managed to choke out past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “Oh.”

Everybody's got a hungry heart. by Perlmutt for ShadowsintheClouds

Summary: Tony Stark has never experienced a true heat due to the suppressants he's taking on a daily basis. Society accepts him as a beta, together with his friends and teammates and the alpha he's secretly in love with. But some things are just too big to be kept hidden forever. An unfortunate turn of events forces Tony to reveal his biggest secret to the world...

Baby, Just Say Yes by betheflame for starksnack

Summary: In a world where Tony's life looks a lot like Taylor Swift's, Steve realizes there always more to omegas than meets the eye.

Apple Pie and Sunshine by betheflame, starksnack

Summary: Even though they've loved each other for years, Steve and Tony have each convinced themselves that their one-night-stand was a fluke. Thing is, it also resulted in Tony getting pregnant and as the birth approaches, perhaps it's time to use their words.

blue since the day we parted by funkyspacegirlfriend

Summary: When he's twenty, the man Tony thinks will be his alpha and mate walks away, leaving Tony with a gift he'll never regret.

The same alpha reappears fifteen years later in the form of SI's new military liaison.

In my Favorite Dreams (I feel your heat) by Corsets_and_Cardigans for wingheads

Summary: Steve is on his morning run in DC when a ghost from his past comes back into his life. And he's not alone. *** “Steve?” Sam’s voice cut through the veil of the past, the crushing weight of memory that stole his breath. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

His staring must have finally alerted another parent, a woman eyeing him warily while tugging on Tony’s sleeve until he turned around. His eyes were just as expressive and wide as they were ten years ago, piercing the cold morning air straight to Steve’s own.

“Tony.”

“Wait. Tony Tony? The Tony? The Tony that Bucky busts your chops over Tony?”

His voice cracked, wrent into pieces at seeing his omega who wasn’t his anymore, body flaring in pain. Years worth of aching denial like a hot fireplace poker to his soul. “Yeah.”

“Okay then, who’s the kid?”

The Couch by Perlmutt

Summary: Steve overstepped a mark, when he accidentally called Tony, his mate, tiny. Because his omega was very self-conscious when it came to his height. So he needed to show him that he thought Tony's perfect just the way he was, if he didn't want to sleep on the couch for the next week. Luckily Steve was the man with a plan...

be the summer in my heart by billyscissors

Summary: After Obadiah betrays the Southern Isles, he offers Omega Prince Anthony Stark as tribute to appease the Warlord of the North

[hallowed-by-thy-name]

I know this has probably been done long ago, but I was feeling a periodic bout of Extreme Anger over the finale and I fell down a rabbit hole and am now in firm belief of the theory that Chuck won. Here's all the stuff I found as to why:

explicit 15x04/15x19/15x20 parallels with 15x04 literally canonically establishing why Chuck's intended ending was not a good ending, then the show ending in the exact same way. (meta post x and x)

unintentional?? parallel with Sam filling Dean's absence with his son/ John filling Mary's absence with his son (x)

Dean textually saying 'that's not who I am' in response to being called 'the ultimate killer' by Chuck, then dying as a killer.

an excellent meta post as to why Chuck winning makes sense when he's taken as an allegory to the network (not the writers!! there's a difference)

and in that context, the ending paralleling the 'planned' s5 ending with one brother dead and the other alive and suffering

alternate endings seen by Sam which are Chuck's (x)

Sam/Dean mirrors from 15 paralleling the Winchester in 15x20; bearing in mind that Chuck wrote the mirror characters like that on purpose and Lilith telling Sam and Dean and us as an audience that is was bad (x)

the entire theme?? of the show is found family??? Finale: O.O no really?? (x)

each of TFW getting an unhappy ending that is like specific to each character's worst insecurities (x)

Jack after becoming 'god' standing the exact, i mean the EXACT same way as Chuck (x) and like SERIOUS Jack/Chuck parallels (x)

After Cas' death (voluntary/his choice), the literal erasure of the impact he has had on all three remaining leads (involuntary/Chuck's doing 'cause he never liked Cas) (x), (x), this scene was cut whereafter we see no one mourn or acknowledge the 12 years Cas has been a part of the Winchesters' lives knowing that the last time Cas'd died Dean had gone off the fucking rails (x), (x)

Castiel literally meaning 'shield of god' and for so long being Cas (dropping the '-iel' which means 'of God' meaning that he rebelled/broke the narrative) only for Castiel to be carved on the table (the part that meant 'of God' is back) also (x) (it's a small thing but the symbolism is important here esp 'cause spn thrives off of subtext/mirrors/parallels/symbolic imagery etc)

miscellaneous literally-plot-doesn't-make-sense (x), (x), (x)

There's other stuff too, but mostly just like, you can't expect me to believe that Chuck wiped out everyone except these three dudes and didn't keep an eye on them for long enough for them to formulate a plan good enough to take him down?? And even the way they take him down- there was next to no build-up for the weird Jack-energy-suction-vacuum thing; the only build for that plot started literally IN that episode, which is conveniently after your only wildcard dies in a way he cannot return?? Huh. Funny how as soon as Cas- the only being not directly under the control of Chuck- dies, Sam, Dean and Jack suddenly manage to find what looks like a very deus ex machina solution that resolves the season long arc in a span of like 5 mins??

Also, one more thing that really bothered me was the sheer amount of plot-holes that came up after/because of 15x19/15x20 (either because established plotlines weren't followed up or new things with no explanation came up). Now, if TFW really did win, these don't really make sense at all; but if it was Chuck who won, it seems an awful lot like a writer just trying to wrap up a story/characters he's bored with. Chuck is done with these characters- they've given him so much shit trying to break out of the narrative. And now that Castiel is dead, he can predict if not control all the people left, so why not just rush through as fast as possible and be done with it?

“you know, i tried and i tried and i tried, but you're all just too stupid, too stubborn. too broken. you know what? i'm over it. i'm over you.” (15x17)

And I know that we all know that TPTB have done stuff externally to end up with the ending we did get, but the only way the ending makes sense (to me) IN CANON without any meta-context and what was going on outside of the canon universe is that Chuck really did win.

Also at least this way, it give more meaning to the ending as said (here) and literally is the only way i can think about the ending without spontaneously combusting.