#anyone who tries to 'Drugs Are Bad' me is getting their fucking face bitten off in verbal form

[mayurisleftnut]

Tfw u decide to Clean Up and u throw all yr paraphernalia in yr apartment complex's nasty dumpster but then the next day u remember that quitting things cold turkey (or at all really cuz who are we kidding) comes with Jonesing The Fuck Out even if there aren't physical withdrawals, at least at the very low level of use I'm at. And u find yrself digging thru the dumpster in broad daylight until finally you realize it's a hopeless feat. Cuz there's flies and it fucking ugggh whoah it stinks what are u ppl PUTTING in there (its just food but that is a loaded statement in summer)

Anyway I still have dudes number and now it's this fun game of not. calling it. Cuz I do need the number in case of emergency (I am on an actual chemically addictive script that I NEED to stay on lest I relapse for reals, and he's the only cushion I have between my shitty clinic failing to call in the refills and complete collapse of all I know and love in this life. But he also deals uhhh other things that I do to stay awake thru my shifts and Did You Know that Mt phones shitty autocorrect changes my to Mt every fucking time??? EVERY SINGLE TIME!!!!! What the actual FUCK!!!!!!! But yah I have to do a piss test in a week which means no staying awake and the stuff makes me feel like shit anyway so maybe I'll just stay off it even though it's not like.. very intense or life altering due to the fact that it's the opposite, the Exact Fucking Opposite of my drug of choice therefor I don't take it to get high. But I do take it enough to dislike its absence just as much as I dislike being on it, maybe even more)

Btw my partner is also Getting Clean and not to downplay it - they're trying to do weed and nicotine both at once and they smoke a LOT of weed - so I'm sure it's shitty. But it does really suck not being able to tell them about Mt thing bc anything other than weed shrooms and idk idfk.. what other stupid fucking hippy drugs are morally acceptable these days.. it's just not smth I'm willing to share cuz they're gonna fuckin judge me I just know it

Anyway I hate being on drugs and I hate being off them too, that's the moral of this story. Well the true moral of this story is that maybe doctors should just give ppl fucking. relatively safe scripts rather than sitting around complaining about drug epidemics. We are self medicating bc that's the only option we have, I asked nicely I did all the stupid fucking tests, I did everything and you fucks won't give me more than a fucking. zoloft. So eat shit (im specifically yelling at my rehab clinics doctor cuz she's the one who said the DUMBEST shit as reason not to give me the meds I need)

[likeastarstar]

The House Call

Summary: As a full time grad student and part time drug dealer, you have a lot on your plate and Namjoon being a shitty school project partner is NOT helping, ok?!

masterlist.

Okay, so you were a drug dealer.

Nothing major! It was just weed, which would be legalized quickly, given the way the rest of the world was going. It was just to get you through grad school, you only sold to friends. You kept your circle tight, not many people even knew you dealt. You were very selective, which is why when Seokjin asked to share your number with his friend, you were unsure. But he was your most reliable customer, so his friends must be too.

What made it even worse was that he apparently was too busy to meet up at your usual drop spot- insisting to pay extra if you did a house call instead. You agreed, obviously, but still. It was annoying.

You had things to do, there was a huge project due the next morning and your partner hadn't done his part of it. He looked smart enough when you were paired up- he had glasses and everything. How were you supposed to know he was lazy as shit.

A buzzing in your pocket interrupted your internal rant- who the hell was calling you this late at night?

"Hello?" You snapped, letting your bad mood seep through your tone.

"Uh, hi- I had a question about the project."

Namjoon- your project partner. Of course. You groaned, walking up the steps to the apartment complex to where you were meant to drop off the weed. All of your conversations with this new customer had been through Jin, a fact that you regretted deeply.

"Get it over with, you know you really should've done this sooner," You sighed, checking the apartment numbers twice before knocking on the door.

"I normally would've but I've been really stressed, ok?" He apologized, a shuffling sound coming through the line.

You rolled your eyes as the door in front of you opened, revealing-

"Namjoon," You gasped, taken aback. He was Jin's friend? What are the odds. You hung up quickly, raising your eyebrows dramatically, "What are you doing buying weed instead of working on our project?"

He looked shocked himself, towering over you with his phone still pressed to his ear. He was dressed more casually than you were used to seeing, his hair disheveled in a way that oddly looked better than when he tried to tame it.

"I told you I was stressed," He mumbled, "Come in. I didn't know you were a dealer."

"I didn't know you smoked," You bit back, rolling your eyes.

You pursed your lips but stepped into his place, looking around curiously. It was nice, decorated in a way you wouldn't have expected from a 20 something year old boy. His place was relatively clean, other than the multiple empty cup noodles placed in random areas and the insane amount of paper laying around, "is this all schoolwork?"

"I'm taking a lot of classes," He shrugged, "How much is it?"

"Uh- thirty," You answered, picking up the nearest piece of paper. It was for micronutrients in the human body. the human, a class you had taken two semesters ago on a whim. "No wonder you're stressed out."

He handed you the money wordlessly, trading you for the paper in your hand. You looked at him for the first time since you walked in, only now noticing the dark circles under his eye and the way he had seemingly bitten his lower lip raw. You groaned, feeling all of the annoyance you had minutes ago turn into sympathy.

You shoved the money in your pocket and handed him his weed, pulling your backpack off your back, "Get high, take a break."

"I can't take a break right now, I'm so fucking behind on all of my classes-"

"Chill, I'll help you. Light up, we'll work on the project together and then I'll help you on micro. I got an A in it, I'll tutor you."

So that's what you did, working through the mountain of shit he had piled up in his living room side by side. You never really noticed how funny he was before, both unintentionally and intentionally. He offered your own weed to you and you accepted, feeling nice and relaxed by the time you had gotten around to tutoring Namjoon on other subjects.

"Do you understand it a little more now?" You asked, looking up at him. He was sat beside you on the couch, thighs touching yours with an arm stretched behind your head on the couch. He nodded and frowned, correcting his work and leaning towards you to show you. "Y-yeah, that's right."

He smelt really good- like sandalwood and honey. You couldn't help but stare at the way he was sucking his cheeks in in concentration. Why the hell was this guy a environmental science major? He could be a model.

"You're a really fast learner," You noted, your voice soft and hazy, the way it always was when you were high.

"You're a good teacher," He mumbled, smiling sleepily at you.

He looked so cute you couldn't help it, leaning forwards to kiss him. Namjoon was caught off guard, freezing for a moment but his lips were soft and his skin was warm, drawing you in before you snapped back to reality, pulling away sharply.

"I shouldn't have done that," You gasped, leaning away from him awkwardly. You had to get out of here- eyes already searching for your belongings. Embarrassment crept up on your skin, heating your cheeks. Maybe you could blame it on being reallt fucking blazed, which you were.

"No," He said suddenly, catching your arm with a hand around your wrist, "I should've done it."

What?

"Why do you think I wanted to be your partner for this project?" He smiled, eyes lighting up in a cute way you hadn't noticed before.

"Um, because I'm the smartest person in class?" You guessed, playing with his large hand idly. His fingers felt good between yours, tingling shocks sparking in the places where his skin touched yours.

He laughed softly, nodding sheepishly, "That too- but more than a good grade, what I wanted was you. Part of the reason I'm so behind in class is because all I do during lecture is stare at you- you're not very good at controlling your facial expressions, did you know that?"

You pulled your mouth into a tight line, smiling awkwardly. It was true, you had been known to show every thought passing through your mind on your face. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"You're really scary," He shrugged plainly, as if it were just an obvious fact. "You yell at me a lot which makes me nervous and horny at the same time and I've been trying to figure out whether that means I'm a freak or not."

"It's a good thing I enjoy yelling at you," You noted, more to yourself than him.

"You can yell at me whenever you want, baby," He said jokingly, grinning down at you. Holy shit, he had really nice teeth.

You barely had time to process his words before his lips were on yours, leading the kiss this time. His hand cradled the side of your face, thumb stroking your still flushed cheeks delicately as his other arm wrapped around your waist. You placed your hands on his shoulders, squeezing the muscle under your palms and pulling him closer to you. Namjoon guided you onto his lap, holding you closer him. God- he was warm and strong and so, so soft.

His hands stayed in their polite place at your waist, kneading into the flesh of your sides with a purpose. Namjoon was a good kisser- an easy balance of dominant and soft. He knew where to push and pull, reading your body like it was second nature to him. First kisses could be awkward, but this one was perfect.

His tongue licked a tentative swipe along the edges of your mouth and you reached up to sink your hands in his hair, pushing his head to the side slightly as you parted your lips and allowed him to deepen the kiss. His tongue was soft against yours and he tasted like smoke and something sweet, your favorite strain of weed invading your senses.

"We should do this more often- maybe not the tutoring thing, but this- the kissing thing," He said, parting from you for a moment.

You nodded eagerly, pulling him back towards you, "Yeah, definitely- the kissing thing. Maybe if I give you enough time to stare at me outside of class, you'll do better too. I really can't date anyone below a 3.5 GPA you know."

"Okay, calm down," He pouted, narrowing his eyebrows at you, "I have a 3.8."

"I have a 3.84," You bragged, "Don't worry, I'll tutor you."

He stifled a laugh and began kissing you again. You smiled and reminded yourself to thank Kim Seokjin for asking you to make a house call.

(A/N: giiirrrl what the hell? I don't have a 3.84 in my program...maybe I should've gone into a creative writing grad program instead....LMAO)

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [bonus]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–nudity boobies! w.c; 2.2k a/n; why did a week go by so stinkin’ fast? i’m not ready to let go of this couple! that being said, i wouldnt mind posting some drabble babbles about these two or four. im utterly thankful for the love and passion my readers had for this, i had so many kind readers that kept me afloat through all of. i can’t wait to see you in the next one, and i hope you enjoy this little glimpse💕

[final] [bonus] -> masterpost

“You’re not Jimin.” 

Jungkook’s eyes snap open, and he takes note of the change in air. Chalk it up to the open window or the fact that the rain’s evaporated, but he can’t help the pinch of pain in his heart as he realizes that you’re far, far gone from this world. 

And in your place, is you. Not quite you, but it’s almost scary how easy it is to regard your visage and simple conversation. 

“Jimin,” he repeats, as if he heard you wrong. “As in, Park Jimin? Tiny guy with a big ego?” 

“Yes,” you reply blandly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes are sparkless, flickering between your state of nakedness and his state of nakedness. “I know I wasn’t exactly sober last night, but I distinctly remember telling him he’d be in my bed tonight,” and you regard Jungkook with a sort of pointed look, unable to decipher your situation, “but here you are. Still cupping by boob.” 

Out of reflex, he squeezes his palm. Yep, that’s yours. 

A little part of him also wants to yell to the heavens because you failed to tell him you were hooking up with Park Jimin before all of this. 

Okay technically you didn’t, but the person in front of him did. 

His heart is fresh and stinging like a hot cut on the asphalt. He watches you take in your surroundings, humming when you notice the new clothes on the rack and the way your desk has been rearranged. Jungkook is trying very hard to be patient, after all you’re a stranger and suddenly he feels like he’s the one that’s known you all his life. Oh, how the tables have turned. 

You stretch, testing out your limbs as they pop and crackle at your command. You run a hand through your strawberry-smelling hair, and Jungkook has to grip the sheets to not go by instinct and take you right then and there on this mattress. With a shameless groan of satisfaction, you flop against your bed. Jungkook tries, emphasis on try, to not watch as your breasts bounce and the way your hair flows around your pillow like the angel you are, but he’s rendered smitten. 

“Uh,” boobies boobies boobies. 

You pointedly ignore his piss-poor attempt at coherent conversation, staring up at the ceiling.  “Ho—ly shit,” you curse freely, heaving an exhausted sigh, “I feel so sore.” 

“S-sore?” Great, he found his voice. 

“Yeah, like I’ve been in a coma or something,” but you think nothing of it, summing it up as a crazy dream from alcohol poisoning. You sit up straight, reaching for your phone. It’s not on your desk, but instead you find something far more interesting. 

You reach for your Midnight Blue Citrus candle, frowning at the contents. The wax is nearly burnt to the end, the tips of the wicks charcoal black and frayed. Waving your used candle in Jungkook’s face you blame, “What the fuck, did you use all of this last night? I just bought this like, literally yesterday!” 

His face falls, “What? You’ve had that candle for forever—”

“And why the heck it is so hot in the middle of February?” 

Oh. 

Something dark and sad creeps up Jungkook’s stomach, and he hates to be the one to tell you. February was when it all started, and his life changed with the presence of you. Jungkook tells himself repeatedly that the woman in this room is simultaneously the person he’s loved since winter and the stranger he feels that he’s meant to love with time. Considering everything’s happening all at once understanding it is still hard, but he’ll try for you. 

It breaks his heart to see how you look lost and confused, like a child woken up from a debilitating nightmare. Your lips are bitten red and purple, trying your hardest not to show fear in front of him, a stranger. You’re frustrated as you try your hardest to shut the windows to block the incoming humidity from last night’s rain. 

He says your name, sweet and soft. “It’s almost summer,” he says, his voice calm and collected. 

“So are you telling me, that wasn’t a dream?” 

The two of you stare at each other, unmoving. He tries not to squirm under your gaze, you watch him intently, scraping at the edge of your brain for any ideas. You’re hugging yourself, arms wrapping against your breasts as if you’re trying to hold your body together in a way that alludes to any brokenness you felt over these past two months. 

Neither of you break the silence, and there’s a bang and a crash. Jungkook flinches at the tell-tale signs of the unwanted intruder, the fling of keys across your wooden table and a shrill call of your name. 

“Who’s that?” 

“Probably Hoseok,” Jungkook answers reluctantly, his thumb rubbing between his brows. 

He ignores the extra cool air against his naked bits when he throws the blankets off his lap. Ignores the way you pointedly, shamelessly check him out as he throws on his sweats and a t-shirt. To his dismay he can’t ignore the burn in his cheeks when he knows how you’re scrutinizing him like a one-night stand, trying to recollect any type of concrete thought that would seem plausible enough to explain why you woke up in bed with him. 

Throwing open your bedroom door and leaving you there, he cards a hand through his rogue bedhead to face a frantic Hoseok. 

“It’s so early,” Hoseok warbles to himself, impressed that he’s managed to cop fresh donuts and coffee at nearly 7AM. 

Jungkook sees nothing but an orange blob and Hoseok’s head, bleary and vibrating. Rubbing his eyes he says, “You just realized how early it is? Couldn’t you have stopped by a little later?” 

“No, I couldn’t!” Hoseok’s now invading Jungkook’s personal space, as if you weren’t the bridge between their threads of a relationship, as if he and Hoseok could be friends. “I woke up a few hours ago and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I felt it, Jungkook. It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. The air shifted and I felt like I was between two parallel universes—I swear on my bad knee that I’m not going through a drug trip—and I felt the world turning and changing and it was so fuckin’ weird I had to come here as soon as Dunkin’ opened. Didn’t you feel it too?” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook exhales, not bothering to hide the disappointment. He smiles sadly, “it’s definitely not her.” 

Hoseok’s expression and excitement over the world’s converging falters, and he pulls Jungkook into a hug. They’re not particularly close and Hoseok’s smaller in size compared to Jungkook, but for those five seconds he feels comforted as he hugs him back. 

“Why don’t you go home and chill out, I don’t mind explaining things to her,” Hoseok offers, “and I’ll call you later and let you know how it went.” 

“Okay,” Jungkook replies, voice slow, “that sounds like a good idea, actually.” 

The situation is royally messed up, and he hates that he can’t blame it on anyone. Jungkook is a practical man, and he knows that he has no use when Hoseok is here with donuts and coffee. More importantly, there is no use torturing himself by letting his heart break in the presence of  you. 

“What is this, a party?” Taehyung’s bare feet smack against the hardwood, and he plops himself in the chair next to Hoseok, “did you get me coffee this time?” 

The two of them bicker good-naturedly, with Hoseok explaining a little kindness goes a long way and Taehyung muttering that kindness doesn’t happen without caffeine. Jungkook excuses himself, feeling very much out of place as he moves to your bedroom to pack his things. 

“You’re leaving?” you’re standing in the middle of your bedroom, now dressed in a long t-shirt and your hair tied clean and away from your face. You look pretty. 

“Yeah,” he says shortly, stuffing his jeans in his bag and making sure all traces of him are gone from your bedroom. “Need to sort things out,” he excuses, and while you may not buy it, he really does. He feels heartbroken, angry at the world. Maybe he could visit Yoongi today and get a demo in, put all this pent-up emotion to good use. “But Hoseok brought you breakfast, he’s a good friend, he’ll explain everything.” 

“But I don’t know Hoseok,” you mumble, picking at the hem of your band shirt. You’re pouting, stubborn. 

“But you don’t know me either,” Jungkook retorts, not unkindly, but not exactly gentle. “I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you.” 

There’s a hard rip at his zipper, putting in a little too much force as he seals away all his things into a compact backpack. Heck, he even went as far as to take back the hoodie he lent you last month, making sure the fabric is crisp and folded so he can stow it away from your curious eyes. He shoves on his denim jacket from last night, still lingering with the scents of sand and saltwater. It makes him sombre, and the selfish part of him wishes to bottle up that scent and tuck it away forever. 

“You’re wrong,” you blurt when he moves toward the door. His hand lingers over the knob, “I do know you.” 

He narrows his dark eyes, taking in your honest expression, “At Jimin’s job, maybe? I did a couple interviews in the beginning of February. Maybe we passed each other while you had lunch with him.” 

“No. You sang to me, talked to me, as much as you could up until this moment.” 

He remembers the stories you fed to him last night under the stars, shameless and full of love as you explained to him of his other self. The life where he’s a renowned singer, a Golden Boy, one of the most revered in his industry. A life he could only dream of, yet somewhere out there he’s living it in another body making that dream come true. 

Thoughts are running through his head, memories that aren’t his own. He could only imagine what you must’ve gone through, recovering in a hospital bed for two months, unable to move but actively aware of the pain and anguish. How confused you must’ve been, aching to figure out what the hell is going on, acutely aware of the voices constantly chattering about your well-being. 

One of those voices being Jeon Jungkook, who was probably taking care of you night and day. 

His head is starting to throb, and he feels like he’s five seconds away from spiraling. 

“I’d… I’d feel more comfortable around you, Jungkook,” you confess, reaching for his hand, “but if you need to, you can go,” you bite your lip, folding in on yourself once more, “if it hurts too much to be around me right now.” 

He gladly takes your hand, rubbing his thumb between your palm. The familiar sparks he feels when he holds it return, but tamps it down for the sake of your vulnerability. It’s not your fault you’re in this situation. “No… I’m just gonna go home for a bit, clear my schedule,” he gives you a little smile, and he inflates a bit when you give him one of your own. “I’ll come back for you after breakfast.”

“You promise?” 

“Promise.” 

You pull him into an unexpected hug, suddenly fearing he may never come back. 

“I always wondered what the man looked like behind the voice,” and you’re suddenly melting, feeling a sense of familiarity as you let your heart run faster than your brain when you let him hold you in his arms. He smells just like him, too. 

His embrace is tight, and his arms fit in all the little curves and spots that make you feel warm and safe. “And am I living up to your expectations?” it’s a half-joke, after all the both of you are  going simply by feeling and there’s no way in hell would he even attempt to compare himself to well, himself. 

You pull away to look at him, really look at him. Honest, clear eyes. Jungkook thinks he sees the world in your gaze. “Only if you eat a donut before you go,” you reply with a shy smile. 

At your defiant mention of food he can’t help but grin like a maniac, letting you tug him back out to sit at the counter with him and have breakfast. Like he said before, he can’t wait to fall in love all over again. 

[atiny-exol]

Vampire Ateez a Skz member is forcefully drinking from you

Warning: drug abuse, swearing, fighting, blood, drinking without your consent, nearly rape, kidnapping

A/N- Soooo I hope you enjoy it!!!

Requested: Yes

_________________________________________

Hongjoong

Hongjoong tried to get a long with the fact that skz is getting bigger and bigger

That they are getting more and more powerful

That he maybe has to make allies with them

But all his calmness is gone as soon as he sees the leader of skz all over you

His eyes shining in a dark red color and his fangs slightly digging on your skin

He is mad, no even more than that

Doesn't hold back anymore till the other leader finally learns his place

His place under him

After that he takes you home and tries to calm you down

Whispers in your ear

Pets your head

Makes you tea

All of that

A lot of snuggling

Will never ever let something like that happen again

,,And if you do this again." His look is cold, colder than ice and sharper than a knive as he looked at the skz leader with so much hatred. ,,I will not hesitate to kill you little boy. Never dare to lay a finger on something that stands under my protection."

Seonghwa

He doesn't even know how this happened

He went to a party with you

Lost you for 5 seconds

And the next time he finds you, you are laying unconscious under Minho

Skz often goes along very well, Seonghwa doesn't mind them but as soon as he sees the member of the rivals hovering over your body. Ready to suck your blood

He sees red

If Minho is alive after that a wonder happened

Because he should not be

Someone touch something that is very special to him

In fact the most special thing

And no one is going to hurt it

He leaves Minho laying on the floor and then places his jacket over you

Picking you up and carrying you home were he can nurse you back to a good state

Apologies a lot of times because he couldn't protect you

A single tear ran down his cheek and right after that a shaky sob was heard from your mate. It breaks your heart to see him like that, but there is nothing you could do to make him feel better. It doesn't matter what you are saying, he feels shitty for not protecting you like he promised you. His mate got bitten by someone else and it hurts him just as much as it hurts you.

Yunho

He is the softest person and trusts his family with his whole heart.

But one new member was very suspicious to him the whole time

Not that he would go against Hongjoong orders no

But the guy always was a little shitty in his eyes

He had the feeling to know him and to know that he has ill intentions

And he was right

One day you visited him and he had to do some things before you could leave

The guy, Hyunjin, started to flirt with you, telling you that he is the only chance for you to get out of this situation alive because skz is going to take ateez down

Of course Yunho heard that

He is angry. So is the rest of Ateez because they saw how Hyunjin tried to convince you to go with him

And after you said no he tried to drink from you even if you yelled at him to stop

No one of the holds back, but Yunho doesn't care about him

He just cares about you

Tries to calm you down

Draws small circles on your lower back while whispering calming words in your ear

,,Psssht princess/prince don't cry don't cry." his voice was barely a whisper. It hurts him to hear your heartbreaking sobs and the words you say. You are blaming yourself for that and it breaks him. Nothinh is your fault. None of this is your fault. He has to make you see that.

San

Leaves you alone for 5 minutes and guys are already flirting with you

But then he sees how you are rejecting the jerk

Beforw the guy leaves he tells you that you will regret that

And he was right

Just in this night some rivals attacked you both surprisingly

San saw how the jerk feed from you and the smudge smirk on his face as he let your body fall down on the floor

He tried his best to protect you, his mate, he was so angry that he thought he can do it, but there were to much

The next time he wakes up you are gone

And he is laying in a dark basement

Before he realizes who his enemies are

He saw them before.

And now where he know that it is skz

He even more concerned about you

,,Fuck give me my mate back you bastard!" San was filled with rage as the rival stepped in the room. His brown hair hanging in his face and a big smirk shooting at him. ,,Aww you want your sweet little mate back? To bad this is not going to happen. We will use you to get the others to and then your territory is ours."

Mingi

He doesn't hate skz, he never thought they are nice or something like that but he never hated them

What mingi doesn't know is that Jeongin the youngest of straykids would cause a lot of trouble

Jeongin is sweet, kind, charming and he knows it

What he also knows is that he wants you

And he usually gets what he wants

That's why it confuses him if you say no to him

But he couldn't bother less

He wants your blood

That's why he spikes your drink and get you out of the overfilled room

Even in your drugged state you tried to fight against him but he was way to strong for you

His sucks your blood and you feel damaged

Only Mingi is allowed to do that

And the taller one never drink so much that you get unconscious

If it want for mingi Jeongin drank too much and would have ended dead

But mingi isn't satisfied with on punch

No he is going to beat the small vampire

He will never come near you again

,,M.. Mingi.. N.. No" your weak voice suddenly gets the attention of the angry vampire. His head turned to your weak body and he immediately backed off, picking you up and checking if you are okay. ,,I.. If you kill him t.. That might end in a war between ateez and skz.." You said weakly and your boyfriend nods in understanding. ,,You are probably right baby. Come on let's go home."

Yeosang

He is not known for mercy

Neither is Felix

Felix saw you, he smelled your blood and he wants you

He wants to see you cry under him while he rips you away from your mate

He usually isn't that cruel but for you he has a special addiction

Yeosang knows that

Thats why he is always very careful around him

But you know that it would have happen sooner or later

Yeosang didn't watch for a few seconds and Felix already got you

It was horrible for you, it wasn't just the drinking no

He was touching you too without any consent

You cried out for help and just in the moment you thought that no one would help you

Yeosang appeared to save you

Felix immediately disappeared

But yeosang couldn't care less

He checks on you and brings you back home

He is apologizing and he feels horrible for not being able to protect you

Even if you say it's fine he knows that it isn't

But he can't turn back time

,,N.. No y/n h.. He He.. " Yeosang mumbled out and looked on the ground, his eyes fixed on one spot. His hand balled into a fist. ,,I will never forgive myself for not being able to stop him sooner." Yeosang wasn't the person who cried easily, so his tears staining his cheek breaks your heart.

Wooyoung

He trusted Changbin

He was friends with him and they liked eachother

So he trusted him to take care of you while he is gone for a while

But this was a mistake

Once he came home

He saw that the other vampires drinks from you while he muffled your screaming

His hands are all over your body

And Wooyoung sees red

He feels betrayed, hurt and most of all angry

Changbin doesn't get out of this alive

And you are shaking and crying in his arms

He will never forgive himself something like that

He will never trust anyone like this again

Doesn't want to face you

He distances himself from you

This one accident changed your relationship

,,N.. No leave me alone Y/N! " his heart ached just like yours. He doesn't mean it. You both know that, but the words still hurt. He is your mate, your boyfriend and the love of your life and now he is pushing you away. It hurts. It hurts so much

Jongho

Seungmin is small next to him

Physically he doesn't have a chance against Jongho

But he is smart, very smart

It wasn't easy but Seungmin got you

He wanted you, from the first time he saw you he wanted you and your blood

It was an obsession

A cruel obsession

He knows that jongho and you are mates

That you will never feel the same for him like you feel for Jongho

But if he can't have you, no body can

He drinks without your consent, against your will and tried to do everything to make you forget your stupid ,, mate"

Just in the time jongho gets you back

Seungmin is gone

And as you opened your eyes again, you didn't know where the person on front of you were

To say that jongho was shocked is an understatement

He was more than that

So much more than that

,,Y.. You.. You don't know who I am? Sweetheart don't play with me like that. It.. It isn't funny" His voice breaks a few times and he desperately hoped that this is just a sick joke of yours, but his hope got crashed down as you shook your head. ,,I.. I don't know who you are.. I-please leave me alone.."

[t4twolfstar]

Pearl Jam songs as the marauders' story

listen here

explanations under read more

Red Mosquito - Remus is bit by Greyback

two steps ahead of him, punctures in your neck…/ Hoverin' just above your bed... (2x)/ I was bitten...must have been the devil…/ He was just paying me…/ A little visit, reminding me of his presence…

Jeremy - most of the song, Sirius

Okay so we’re going to look at the verses not the refrain for this one bc (TW su*) this song is based on an actual boy who diy died in front of his class so like no we’re not relating to that part but the “Clearly I remember/ Pickin’ on the boy/ Seemed a harmless little fuck/ But we unleashed the lion….Daddy didn't give affection, no/And the boy was something that mommy wouldn't wear”

Daughter - Sirius at home

Trans sirius in an abusive household………. “Mother reads aloud, child tries to understand it/Tries to make her proud/ The shades go down, it's in her head/ Painted room, can't deny that something's wrong/ Don’t call me daughter, not fit to”

Leash - Sirius and Remus’ toxic codependent love and then yelling at the establishment/people who say they’re too young going too deep too hard too fast

“Troubled souls unite/ We got ourselves tonight, oh/ I am fuel you are friends we got the means to make amends/ I am lost I'm no guide but I'm by your side/ I am right by your side….We will find a way we will find our place/ Drop the leash drop the leash/Get outta' my fuckin' face”

Why Go? - Sirius becoming disenchanted w his family

Trans Sirius too of course. She seems to be stronger/ But what they want/ Her to be is weak/ She could play pretend/ She could join the game, boy/ She could be another clone….don’t come visit/mother/ why go home?

Blood - Sirius’ family trying to make him into something he’s not

Spin me round/ Roll me over/ Fucking circus/ Stab it down/ One way needle/ Pulled so slowly/ Drains and spills/ Soaks the pages/ Fills their sponges/ It’s my blood/ It’s my blood

WMA - basically about all the big pureblood families that can get away w anything

“He won the lottery when he was born/ Took his mothers white breast to his tongue/ Do no wrong so clean cut/ Dirty his hands, it comes right off” (tw for song: police, implied police violence)

Do the Evolution - Sirius ranting abt/mocking his family

Admire me, admire my home/ Admire my son, he's my clone…./ I'll do what I want but irresponsibly/ It’s evolution, baby/ I’m a thief, I'm a liar/ There’s my church, I sing in the choir:/ (Hallelujah, hallelujah)

Bushleaguer - abt the aristocracy etc

This song is literally about George bush lmao but I love it abt the upper class

“Born on third, thinks he got a triple…./The aristocrat choir sings, "what's the ruckus?”/ The haves have not a clue/ The immenseness of suffering”

Mind your manners - You guessed it - Sirius rejecting his family

I've got an unfortunate feelin’/ I've been beaten down/I feel I don't believe/ And now the truth is coming out/ What they've taken is more than a vow/ They’ve taken your innocence/ And then they throw them on a burning fire/ All along they're sayin’/ Mind your manners

My father’s son - SIRIUS

I am my father's son,/ Yeah, too bad he was a psychopath and now I'm the next in line, , dear mother, yes, surely she's a work of art,…/Can I get a reprieve?/ This gene pool dark and deep…./Now father you're dead and gone and I'm finally free to be me,/ Thanks for all your dark gifts for which I've got no sympathy,/ I’m living in a walled-up place in the bounds of 5th symphony

Yellow Ledbetter - Sirius

Okay so 97% of the the lyrics are indecipherable when Eddie sings them but you can hear I don’t wanna stay

Go - Regulus to Sirius as he’s trying to leave

(Abuse tw) So sorry about this one yall …… .but yes I think this is regulus finally realizing that he shouldn’t have let things get so bad at home (Sirius blames him for not stepping in even tho he’s a child there’s nuance here etc) and he’s begging Sirius not to leave him here “Oh please don't go out on me don't go out on me now/ Never acted up before don't go on me now/ I swear I never took it for granted just thought of it now/ Suppose I abused you just passing it on….I pulled the covers over him shoulda' pulled the alarm/ Turned to my nemesis…Please don't go on me/ Don’t go on me/ Don’t go on me/ Don’t go on me/ please”

Rearviewmirror - Sirius running away

(Tw abuse) Time to emancipate/ I guess it was the beatings made me wise….Forced to endure/ What I could not forgive/ I seem to look away/ Wounds in the mirror waved/ It wasn't my surface most defiled

Can’t Keep - Sirius running away from home

I want to shake/ I want to wind out/ I want to leave/ This mind and shout/ I’ve lived/ All this life/ Like an ocean/ In disguise/ I don't live for ever/ You can't keep/ Me here

Hail, Hail - Remus and Sirius’ codependent strong love

A how I love you till the day I die...ah and beyond…/ are we going to the same place? If so, can I come?/ It’s egg rollin' thick and heavy...all the past we carry…

Release - Remus thinking about his dad

Remus’ dad is so full of guilt for his hand in remus’ transformations that he extracted himself from remus’ life. Remus laments here, “Oh, dear dad/ Can you see me now?/ I am myself/ Like you somehow” “I'll hold the pain/Release me” he’d would rather have a dad, guilt and all, here, than the self appointed absence but since you left me with the absence and grief and loss of it, at least release me from it, loosen your grip so I can move on.

Present Tense - Sirius and Remus talking probably laying in the forbidden forest assuaging one another’s beliefs of the gnarled beasts they think they are

BUGS - prob remus when he turns before the boys know

Bugs on my ceiling/ Crowded the floor/ Standing sitting kneeling…/ A few block the door/ And now the question’s:/ Do I kill them?/ Become their friend?/ Do I eat them?/ Do I join them?/ I’ll just stop now/ I’ll become naked/ And with the...I'll become one

Who you are - probably James at remus when he thinks he’s a big monster

Who are we?/ Who we are./ What’s your part? Who you are / You are who you are.

Save you - GOD THIS SONGG okay this is probably James @ Sirius when home life is bad and also Sirius @ Remus and also Remus @ Sirius it’s all of them @ all of them

Gonna save you fucker, not gonna lose you/ Feeling cocky and strong, can't let you go,/ Too important to me/ Too important to us, we'd be lost without you/ Baby, let yourself fall, I'm right below you now/ And fuck me if I say something you don't want to hear/ And fuck if you only hear what you want to hear/ Fuck me if I care, but I'm not leaving here/ You helped me when I was down, I'll help when you're down/ Why are you hitting yourself, c'mon hit me instead

Life Wasted - Sirius @ Reg re: leaving

I escaped it, a life wasted./ I’m never going back again…./ You're always saying you're too weak to be Strong./ You’re harder on yourself than just about Anyone/ Why swim the channel just to get this far?/ Halfway there, why would you turn around?

Severed Hand - Reg joins the death eaters

Big man stands behind an open door/ Said, leave your lady on the cement floor./ Got some kicks, want to take a ride?/ I said, yeah!/ Oh please understand I just need, my friend,/ A way a way a way home

Brain of J. - Reg and Sirius arguing after he joins the death eaters

The whole world will be different soon/ The whole world will be relieving/ You, you've been taught/ We’d been the same, now they got you in line/ Stand behind the stripes/ There will be order, so give it a good mind…./And by name/ The name they gave me/ The name I'm letting go

Deep - Regulus knows he’s in too deep

This is Regulus knowing he’s in too deep, Voldemort and the death eaters are such bad fucking people and he’s in too deep now (massive tw for this song for drugs and se*ual violence)

“Ponders his Maker, ponders his will/ in too deep/ can’t touch the bottom”

Pilate - Remus abt Sirius ;0)

Like Pilate I have a dog/ (Obeys listens kisses loves)/ Walks me out of town/ Still one's a crowd/ Making angels in the dirt/ Looking up looking all around

You Are - in love 🥰

Love is a tower/ Of strength to me/ I am the shoreline/ But you're the sea

Red Bar - the war begins

War, I’m crazy/ War I’m crazy I’m war the song is also a lil goofy so it’s maybe just like going crazy being so in it that it’s funny now

Porch - WARTIME EVERYONE @ THEIR LOVERS

It’s the war and everyone knows today could be their last day and tensions are running high in relationships and they love each other so much and need each other but snap at one another nonetheless

What the fuck is this world running to?/ You didn't leave a message/ At least I could have learned your voice one last time/ Daily minefield, this could be my time by you/ Would you hit me? Would you hit me?/ Hear my name, take a good look/ This could be the day/ Hold my hand, walk beside me

Thin Air - babes in love

There's a light, when my baby's in my arms,/ There’s a light, when the window shades are drawn…/ And I know she's reached my heart, in thin air.

All or None - More war time songs soz

Here's the selfless confession/ Leading me back to war/ Can we help that our destinations/ Are the ones we've been before?/ I still try to run on/ But it's all or none

Parting Ways - Lily @ James during the war

She knows their future's burning/ But she can smile just the same, same/ And though her mood is fine today/ There’s a fear they'll soon be parting ways

Love Boat Caption - Sirius/Remus, Lily/James, etc etc. during the war

Love boat captain/ Take the reigns and steer us towards the clear, here/ It’s already been sung, but it can't be said enough/ All you need is loveIt's an art to live with pain/ Mix the light into grey/ Lost nine friends we'll never know/ Two years ago today/ And if our lives became too long/ Would it add to our regret?…./Hold me and make it the truthThat when all is lost, there will be you

Evacuation - going into hiding

Lukin- Lily and James have to go into hiding

(Tw st*lking mention in explanation, gun mention in song) The song was written by Eddie when he was being stalked and he had to bring himself and his wife to a friend’s house for safety.

In Hiding - Lily and James are in hiding and enter Peter

No way in or out/ I turned and walked the hallways/ And pulled the curtains down…./I swallow the truth to keep from lying/ i'm no longer overwhelmed and it seems so simple now/ Yeah, it's funny how things change so much/ It’s all state of mind

Once - Peter Pettigrew betraying the marauders

Literally about someone committing a mass murder. “Once upon a time I could control myself.” “Mimic whats insane.”

Around the Bend - I'm so sorry ummm but Lily to Harry on Halloween 💀

I am wishing you a well…./ I hold your head deep in my arms/ My fingertips, they close your eyes/ Off you dream, my little child/ There’s a sun around the bend/ Please forgive me, won't you, dear?/ Please forgive and let me share with you, around the bend/ You’re an angel when you sleep/ How I want your soul to keep, on and on around the bend

Garden - Sirius being taken to Azkaban

He’s just taking his fate as it comes to him.

The direction of the eye/ So misleading/ The defection of the soul/ Nauseously quick/I will walk, with my hands bound/ I will walk, with my face blood/ I will walk, with my shadow flag/ Into your garden/ Garden of stone

Even flow - IS SO VERY MUCH SIRIUS IN AZKABAN

sung from the pov of an incarcerated person waiting for life to begin again

BUGS - Sirius in Azkaban (yes I already said this abt remus but idc)

Bugs on my ceiling/ Crowded the floor/ Standing sitting kneeling…/ A few block the door/ And now the question’s:/ Do I kill them?/ Become their friend?/ Do I eat them?/ Do I join them?/ I’ll just stop now/ I’ll become naked/ And with the...I'll become one

Black - Remus lamenting about Sirius’ perceived deception

Remembering their love and how now so many of his memories are tainted (by) black and that all of this has changed him fundamentally (star imagery, “black”, “tattooed everything”)

Indifference - Sirius in grimmauld place, sirius in Azkaban

Sirius taking his home life in stride until he can leave, taking Azkaban in stride bc it doesn’t matter any way bc he believes he deserve it anyway

“Pretend I'm free to roam/ I will make my way/ Through one more day in hell/ How much difference does it make?/ How much difference does it make?/ I will hold the candle/ Till it burns up my arm/ Oh, I'll keep takin' punches/ Until their will grows tired/ Oh, I will stare the sun down/ Until my eyes go blind/ Hey, I won't change direction/ And I won't change my mind/ How much difference does it make?/ How much difference does it make?/ I’ll swallow poison, until I grow immune/ I will scream my lungs out till it fills this room”

Alive - Remus post ’81

Eddie originally wrote the song as a lament - why did I live when he didn’t? Why am I still alive?

“Is something wrong she said, of course there is, you’re still alive she said, but do I deserve to be?”

Animal - Remus after ’81 when he needs to transform alone

Feat. A throwback to being turned (so tw: abd*ction) “Torture from you to me, yeah/Abducted from the street/I'd rather be with an animal”

Nothingman - Sirius and Remus after ’81

Once divided nothing left to subtract/ Some words when spoken can't be taken back/ Walks on his own with thoughts he can't help thinking/ Future’s above but in the past he's slow and sinking…./ She once believed in every story he had to tell/ One day she stiffened took the other side/ Empty stares from each corner of a shared prison cell/ One just escapes one's left inside the well

Smile - Remus @ the marauders (except it’s after ’81 and he just thinks of them fondly)

Don't it make you smile?/ I miss you already/ I miss you always/ I miss you already/ I miss you all day/ This is how I feel/ Three crooked hearts swirls all around/ Don’t it make you smile?

In my tree - remus abt sirius after ’81

I remember him, yeah…/ I swore I knew everything, oh yeah…/ They say knowledge is a dream, yeah…/ He's growing up just like me, yeah…

Light Years - Remus abt Sirius

But now you're gone, I haven't figured out why/ I’ve come up with riddles and jokes about war/ I’ve figured out numbers and what they're for/ I’ve understood feelings and I've understood words/ But how could you be taken away?/ Back pages and days alone that could have been spent/ Together, but we were miles apart Every inch between us becomes light years now

I’m open - Remus!!!! Post ’81

After spending half his life searching he still felt as blank/ As the ceiling at which he stared/ He is alive but feels absolutely nothing/ So is he?/ When he was six he believed that the moon overhead followed him/…..So this is what it's like to be an adult/ If he only knew now what he knew then

Thumbing my Way - Remus post ’81 again blah blah ikik

I can't be free with what's locked inside of me/ If there was a key you took it in your hand/ There’s no wrong or right but I'm sure there's good and bad/ The questions linger overhead

Rats - we know how remus like to soliloquize …. This is him waxing poetic about how fucking horrible Peter is

The song itself is kind of listing the many ills of humankind saying how rats don’t compare to people bc they don’t do all this. But Peter isnt really a rat. He’s a man and oppresses like a man and betrays like a man and takes like a man.

“Drink the blood of their so-called best friend….They don't scurry when something bigger comes their way….Don't take what's not theirs“

Oceans - Sirius escaping Azkaban

Hold on to the thread/ The currents will shift, glide me towards/ You know something's left/ And we're all allowed to dream of the next…..The sea will rise/ Please stand by the shore/ I will be there once more

Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town - Sirius after Azkaban

200004309248% sirius returning from 12 years isolated. He doesn’t really recognize most things. Remus wouldn’t recognize him. He’s different. Changed by being unchanged. He couldn’t grow and learn and morph and become. He stagnated yet decayed. But he’s back and he recognizes your skin and your breath. He’s back.

Off He Goes - Sirius is a Sagittarius in the first half, second half is post PoA

Know a man his face seemed pulled and tense/ Like he's riding on a motorbike in the strongest winds/ So I approach with tact/ Suggest that he should relax/ But he's always movin' much too fast/ Said he'll see me on the flip side/ On this trip he's taken for a ride…./ And now I rub my eyes for he has returned/ Seems my preconceptions are what should have been burned/ For he still smiles and he's still strong/ Nothing’s changed, but the surrounding bullshit, that has grown/ And now he's home, and we're laughing, like we always did/ My same old, same old friend/ Until a quarter-to-ten

All Those Yesterdays - and cue the bath scene, remus washes his lost love

Don't you think you oughta rest?/ Don’t you think you oughta lay you head down?/ You don't think there's time to stop/ There’s time enough for you to lay your head down tonight tonight/ Let it wash away/ All those yesterdays

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 212 prt 2 (end)

Nope. They may not have had a birth plan, but Lance was clear about “not pooping out a baby”! Keith snapping at Coran

“He’s not supposed to be!”

Coran snapping back at him

“Yes, I know he’s not supposed to be and yet here we are. Lance...”

Lance just wanted it to be over, begging Keith in stumbled words

“I want to push... please let me push...”

“Can his body take it?”

“I...”

“Coran, can his body take it?!”

“I’m not entirely sure... The anus is not designed for birth. The muscle structure is completed wrong and there would be significant damage to the area... but Lance is a vampire... and he is a breeder. The area is softer and has begun to adapt...”

Lance’s arse did lots of wonderful things that made having sex with him much easier than when it was the other way around... Keith was all for the c-section. It was safer for Lance and the twins and something had to be wrong with the amount of blood Lance had lost. Both of them lost to Lance’s instincts. Bearing down his lover growled through another contraction, his “scary face” coming across his features as he slumped back tiredly

“We’ll need another two bags of A positive blood. Lance, you stubborn fool, I will never forgive you if this goes wrong. I want you to let your contractions build for me, then I want you to push with all your might on the next big one. Keith, keep him conscious. Even with drugs I fear he’s going to feel this”

Lance seemed to regret all his life choices with the cry he gave as he pushed longer and harder than the previous times, Keith’s legs firmly squeezed together as he tried not think about what was going on below the sheet. His vampire may have only sat up a little as he bore down, yet for Lance he might have well been bending himself in half

“And stop... stop... let them build again. One more big push to get those shoulders out and they’ll be here...”

The look Lance shot Coran spoke volumes on how he wished the fae would shut up, Keith braver than Coran as he tried to calm Lance back down

“Hear that, baby. You can do this. My good mate. One more big push and we get to meet our first little baby”

Lance went to glare at him too, but his expression soon turned soft as their eyes met

“You can do this. We all know you can do just about anything you put your mind to”

“They... never warn you about the pressure... makes the contractions the easy bit”

Keith would take Lance’s words for it. All he had in comparison were memories of bleeding arse from taking a huge dumb. Somehow he didn’t think the two compared

“Okay, babe. Remember, the next push is the big one”

Lance was crying just as hard as Keith was as their baby girl was delivered. Reaching for her, Coran placed her against Lance’s chest, using a soft cloth to clean her goopy face. Keith had thought Lance was truly the most beautiful thing he’d seen in his life, but his little girl took his breath away

“Keith...”

Lance’s face shone with pride and wonder as he stared at their daughter

“She’s perfect...”

“She’s so red... is she meant to be red?”

“Never mind, number two. As the blood flows through her body and she takes her first breaths, her colour will start to even out”

“But she’s so red”

A tiny slimy red hand lay on Lance’s chest. Her fingers were itty bitty, Keith repeating himself again

“She’s so red”

Tiredly Lance moved his hand to rest on her back, his mate had done so good. With an exhausted chuckle, Lance put him in his place

“We’ve already got Blue, you can’t name her Red”

If ever there was a time for dramatics, this was it. Placing his finger in their daughter’s hand, she gave a small cry. Instantly he knew he’d die for her. She was so beyond everything he thought he’d feel

“Nurse, if you’d be so kind, she needs to be cleaned... and you two, we’ve got another baby to deliver”

Twenty minutes after their daughter, their son arrived. Unlike his sister who was polite enough to wait a few moments, he was barely in the world before he let out his first cry. Keith finding himself unsure what to do now they had two. Lance wanted to see their daughter, the nurse bringing her over, swaddled up, just before the final push. With her eyes closed, she looked so much like Lance, except she already had the tell tale wisps of his black hair. As their son was laid on Lance’s chest, Lance let out a sleepy yawn, back to smiling again as Keith moved his hand to help Lance hold their baby boy. Both of them were so tiny. Every month of development didn’t feel possible when they looked so damn tiny.

Out of it on medication, Lance didn’t want to let their son go to the nurse for cleaning. Keith didn’t want anyone other than them touching their twins, but he firmly squashed his ego down as they had to make sure both babies were okay, while Coran dealt with things between Lance’s legs. Distracting his fiancé with their daughter, the werewolf sat himself on the side of the bed, pulling down the blanket enough for Lance to see her face. No words came close to his happiness. Peppering kisses to Lance’s sweat soaked hair, he couldn’t stop looking at their daughter

“She looks just like you”

“She’s got her daddy’s hair... Keith... she’s perfect”

“Just like you. I’m so fucking proud of you”

“Don’t swear in front of the babies... we’re finally parents”

“Yes you are! That was very dangerous and Lance will need time to recover properly. But congratulations to you both”

Having a few more moments staring at their daughter, Lance all but snatched their son from the nurse as he was brought over. His tiny little hand gripping the blanket, with the grumpiest look on his face. Lance was all smiles once he had their boy cradled to his chest, chuckling as he poked their sons hand with his finger

“Oh dear. He’s got your personality”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a grumpier baby”

Keith frowned, probably making the same expression as their son

“He’s perfect”

He’d been as red as his sister... now swaddled up, he looked as angelic as her... maybe like a grumpy angel instead of a sleepy on. Again, not to be dramatic, but they had his heart wrapped around their tiny little fingers. He was a goddamn apex predator... who couldn’t stop crying because their twins were the most perfect being imaginable. He couldn’t get over how red and chubby babies were... or how he and Lance had managed to make two such perfect little lives.

“Now for the important bit, do you two have any names picked out for our little ones? Coran is a fine name”

The “important bit” to Keith was that Lance would be okay. He’d feel more reassured about it all, if he hadn’t seen what Coran had removed between his fiancé’s legs

“Will Lance be okay?”

Coran opened his mouth as if he was going to make a joke, then reconsidered. Lance was too distracted by their son to be listening to the fae

“He may take some time to heal. He may also experience some agitation from his ego. You have to realise he is exceptionally vulnerable right now. I’m quite sure if he to be separated from the twins for any length of time, he’d go quite crazy to find them. Birth is extremely hard on the body. He may partially transform, or he may experience accelerated healing. Nothing to worry about, he’ll be in tip top shape before you head back home”

Apparently he’d been too distracted by Coran, Lance whining softly

“Keith, no more questions... look at our babies”

He hadn’t taken his eyes off them for longer than split second

“I’m sorry, baby. I had to know you’ll be okay”

“I’m tired... but they’re... so perfect... so red”

“Yet when I said that, I got in trouble”

“I did the hard work”

“You did. You gave us a scare there”

“Had to push... the pressure was too much... look at him. He looks like more like me... with your expression”

Their son’s lips were all Lance. The frown on his face really did seem to come from him genetically. Hopefully he hadn’t inherited his lead foot. He’d have made Krolia proud with his driving

“He’s perfect... you’re perfect. I don’t... babe...”

His English failed. He loved their twins. He loved Lance. He loved their twins. Lance got it. He got how overwhelmed Keith was because they both were

“Shh... it’s okay. Coran, can we be alone?”

“I... uh, yes. Yes, I suppose I can give you a few moments while I fetch some fresh blood bags. Keith, please ensure he remains awake”

*

Blood still clung in the air as Keith sat beside Lance. Only Lance would try to move over and make space so shortly after giving birth

“Babe?”

Sighing softly, Keith turned his attention from their daughter back to Lance

“Sorry. I’m...”

Lance sniffled as he nodded

“Me too... I didn’t know it’d feel like this”

“I didn’t either...”

“Do we have... names?”

Keith had a name in mind. He’d had a name in mind of a while now. He’d had a name in mind since certain things stuck out, or failed to stick out, on Lance’s ultrasounds

“Miriam...”

His fiancé’s lip wobbled, Keith trying for bad humour. There’d only been one Miriam that had meant the world to both of them...

“You won’t let me call her “Red””

“If she’s got your fiery spirit, that’s a perfectly good nickname... but... I didn’t think you’d say... Mami’s name...”

“Do you not like it?”

“I... can’t believe you thought of her...”

“Hey, we don’t have to...”

Lance shook his head, their son scrunching up his face a stray tear dropped on cheek

“It’s not that. I... like Laith for a boy, but I... I’m not making sense”

Keith peered at his son. Was he a Laith? What did Laith even mean? It sounded like a tool used in construction

“Laith?”

“It means Lion... our little lion cub...”

Their son did look like he could let out a roar at any moment, or an unhappy scream to let the world know he was there

“You know, I kind of see it... it’s better than Yorak”

Lance snorted, he tried to bring his hand up to wipe his face, yet lacked the strength. Keith using his hoodie sleeve to wipe Lance’s nose for him, forgetting momentarily to be scared of dropping the baby

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what your mum was thinking”

Keith rolled his eyes, heavy on the sass

“Does anyone ever? He’s definitely not a Lenny...”

Sighing at him, he knew he had to get over his dislike of Lenny eventually. The joke had work thin

“Forget about Lenny... Charlotte? It means hurt, and my butt hurts from pushing”

“We’re not naming our daughter Charlotte Miriam because your butt hurt”

“Badum-tss”

Why did he adore this idiot? He’d walked right into that one

“You should feel bad”

“Oh, babe. I feel totally bad... I’m so tired but I don’t think I can ever take my eyes off them”

“We don’t have to name them now...”

“Mmm, but you heard Coran, I don’t know how long I’ll sleep... I wanna know their names...”

Keith had a thought

“What about Laith Hunter Kogane-McClain? I... was a hunter when I met you...”

Lance hummed, their grumpy boy not giving away how he felt about his name

“What about Laith Hunter Kogane? There’s enough McClains out there... and some day soon it’ll be my last name too”

Fuck it. He was already crying, he wasn’t crying harder because he loved Lance so damn much

“So we have our little lion hunter... and our Red Princess Miriam”

“Oh, so she’s a princess now?”

“She’s our princess...”

“I think Blue will have something to say about that... She’s so cute... I’d... I’d like Miriam... as her middle name, if that’s okay. Mami... Mami would have... would have loved them”

Krolia would be out there waiting for him, but Mami wouldn’t be there. This wasn’t fair

“Oh, baby. She would have been so proud. I’m so proud...”

“I’m sorry... I... feel so emotional right now”

“I feel the same way... you know, “Crimson” and “Scarlet” are both perfectly acceptable names”

Once again his bad humour brought a smile back to Lance’s lips

“You can call her Red all you like, once we find the right name... Lancella?”

“Lancella with photographer for a boyfriend? I think not. What do you think when you look at her”

“Well... to me... to me I think “Lena”, but I named Laith”

Lena Miriam Kogane and Laith Hunter Kogane... Yeah. Yeah... That felt right...

*

Two hours later, Lance had been moved to another room. Their twins sleeping as Keith finally drew himself together enough to face their friends. Carrying the bundle in his arm carefully, Keith opened the door to their room. Coran had been out to reassure everyone, Lance had been through a couple of bags of blood, showing signs of healing before he passed out. Keeping his voice low, he didn’t want to wake up the sleeping bundle suckling on his finger

“Hey, guys”

Krolia, Curtis and Shiro, were sitting on the few chairs in the hall, the others sitting on the floor, both sides of the corridor. Fuck, Keith’s ego was way beyond massive with his pride. Certificates of birth had been signed, Coran knew how to register the birth and all those details.

“Keith... is that... are they okay?”

Hunk tripped over his words as he hurried to his feet, Keith beaming with pride

“The three of them are okay. Lance lost a fair bit of blood, but he’ll be okay. Coran said it might take a bit for him to recover once he fell asleep. I know we kept you guys waiting, but he fought falling asleep until he couldn’t fight it any longer”

“And?!”

Pidge couldn’t contain herself usually, this time it was Allura demanding to know. Yeah. He’d hit one hundred percent smug arsehole about his family. Coran pleasantly surprised after taking the measurements, saying “they were ready to walk out”

“Laith Hunter Kogane, and Lena Miriam Kogane. Lena was born first at 2:12pm, April 30th, 51 and 6 pound 1 something. She’s for wispy black hair and the bluest eyes. Laith kept Lance exhausted for an extra 20 minutes, 53cm , 7 pound 2 whatever it is. He’s got the grumpiest little expressions, and like his sister, he’s got my black hair and Lance’s blue eyes. Lance didn’t want to hyphenate our last names because he plans on taking “Kogane” soon”

Pidge let out a squeal, before clamping her hand over her mouth so as not to wake his sleeping baby

“Congrats, baby brother... and congrats on the engagement”

Now seemed as good as any time to come clean

“Actually, we’ve been engaged for a few weeks now”

Matt spluttered

“But at the party...”

“It’s true the box was empty. We wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while... I don’t think any of expected today to be the day he went into labour. Coran said the general sickness was a sign leading up to labour, so was the stomach cramping Lance didn’t tell me about, he thought it was Braxton-Hicks being annoying again”

Krolia stepped forward

“Can I...?”

“You guys can come in... but this baby boy is staying in my arms”

Shiro seemed to hesitate, before asking, Keith trying to keep his face as neutral as he could at the coming question

“Can we see?”

Lowering the side of the blanket, Lance had his teeth in Keith’s finger, suckling down his blood. His fiancé had shifted back into a bat shortly after falling asleep. Keith had forgotten how absolutely adorable lance was as a bat. Coran seemed to think it was his body’s natural reaction to all the stress and exhaustion of birth. None of them found it funny, Krolia looked ready to hit him

“You could have told us...”

“Lance is baby. He’s feeding on my finger seeing he was a bit uneasy when he fell asleep and we couldn’t get an IV line in... anyway, come on in. Just don’t make any sudden moves. My ego’s pretty much out of control right now”

His ego being out of control meant nothing as Keith was drawn into a tight hug from his brother. The hug was everything he’d needed that morning when he’d been on the phone

“I’m so happy for you”

“I’m pretty happy for me too... Don’t forget, you and Curtis are the godfathers. You’ll have to give up being lame, you’re both going to have a huge responsibility on your hands”

“We won’t let you down... God, Keith. I’m so proud of you. Adam would be so proud of you, too”

“Thanks, Shiro. I know Lance would thank you too... Fuck, this has been a roller coaster”

“And I’m sure the journeys just begun. Now, I want to meet my niece and nephew”

“I have to warn you, they’re pretty incredible”

“I don’t doubt that for a moment”

*

Lance remained a bat for the following two days. He felt as if he’d been run over repeatedly when he finally came back to his senses. The happiness he felt when he held his twins... he’d truly never felt anything like it. He didn’t know if it was normal to love someone so instantaneously, but his dramatic arse would die for the pair in a heartbeat. Laith had all of Keith’s expressions down pact. He’d taken to feeding like a champion, unlike his sister who wasn’t too sure at first. Yeah, Lance had balled his eyes out over how precious they were. Their grumpy little boy screaming the first time he had his photo taken by Krolia, who had the flash on on her phone. Shiro had given Keith his camera, Keith making sure to get plenty of photos during the time he missed. He knew he’d never get that time back, but because his body had forced him to rest and heal, he felt like a better father for it... plus, he had the memories of their birth, and the precious first cuddles and hours of their lives.

After a week of rest, they were finally released to go home. There was nothing wrong with their twins, he and Keith hadn’t wanted to be apart and Lance couldn’t go home until Coran was sure he’d okay. A small neat gold diamond ring now on his ring finger, Keith deciding the right time to pull it out was just after Lena had thrown up on his chest. Lance knew that “being a diva couldn’t be genetically inherited” but he saw so much of himself in her. Romance would forever be Keith’s middle name, after slipping in the ring on his finger than awkwardly stuttering out “I got you a ring”. Keith was very lucky Coran had sorted things out with the police, or their “second engagement” might have been a bit awkward had the police pulled him over and arrested him for doing a runner. There was nothing Coran couldn’t fix, including his broken arse, though that had needed stitches to help along the healing and next time they decided to do this, he was definitely booking into VOLTRON a month early.

13 months, nearly to the day, his house was invaded again by two “strangers”. One a dark haired beauty, the other a little brother, grumpy at the world but secretly loving cuddles. Two strangers that would turn his life upside down again... and he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was time for a whole new adventure as their journey continued... doubly so when Keith finally went back to work, learning that it was okay that he was werewolf that preferred to be human outside of the moon. Neither of them asked for the monsters beneath their skin, but together, they made a damn good team, even if Lance did say so himself.

[connorspiracy]

Fangs and Fries || Connor & Rio

Timing: Current Location: Rio’s hospital room Parties: @connorspiracy & @3starsquinn Content: References to violence, injuries, death and abuse Summary: Connor visits Rio in hospital after the werewolf attack and Rio opens up to him about things.

Rio hadn’t talked too much about the Winston situation or his parents’ death or much of his life at all, and now that he was living by himself, Connor was pretty worried about him, and not just because he’d been in a fight with a werewolf. He got a selection of burgers and chicken stuff and fries from McDonalds, skipping the deserts because he figured they’d melt and taste like arse before too long. “You alright mate?” he said by way of greeting as he walked in. “They’ve not got you on too many painkillers?” He put the bags of food on the little tray in front of Rio, pulling up a chair, then he took off and unzipped his backpack, pulling out some other stuff. “I also brought my Switch and some comics so you have something to do ‘til you can come home.” Hospitals were loud. Connor could hear the screaming from a room next door, someone who’d just left their body and was yelling at the doctors to please bring them back to life. He could hear crying and faint whispers, and he could feel the particular brand of heaviness in the air, but he needed to focus on Rio right now.

Orion had some preparation time when he heard Connor coming down the hallway. He had been occupied staring at the TV screen, waiting for news to break about another attack by the wolf. Nothing yet, but that hadn’t meant that nobody had been hurt. Connor had done Rio a service by not only bringing him food, but launching right into the conversation without too many questions regarding his wounds. The bruises across his face were bad enough, but add onto it the IV’s didn’t make it possible to wear his usual hoodies. He stuffed his arms under the blanket, then attempted to position them under the swinging table once Connor set the food down on it. He had no reason to hide it, but it still wasn’t his favorite conversation to bring up. “I’m fine. Probably not enough painkillers honestly,” Rio laughed, trying to sound convincing. Connor had brought an entire assortment of options, and even as Rio stared at the food and realized that he didn’t have much of an appetite, he still wanted to eat. He grabbed a handful of fries first, plopping them in his mouth one by one as Connor pulled the game system and comics out of his bag. “Woah! Thanks dude, that’s so nice holy crap. I appreciate it. I’ll be out of here in a couple days though probably. So not too much time to kill.”

Connor usually played it cool. He was a curious person, someone who liked to have all the answers and would do as much digging as it took to get to the bottom of them. There were some things you didn't ask questions about though, so while he knew not all of the scars on Rio's body could have come from the wolf attack, he didn't mention them. "Are you wearing one of those hospital gowns where your arse hangs out? Damn, if I knew, I'd have brought you some pyjamas too," he snickered. "And a couple of days sitting in a fucking hospital bed is more than enough. At least this way you'll have Pokemon and Mario." He helped himself to a serving of fries and a quarter pounder. "So," he said, after taking a copious bite. "Werewolf? Tell me about it. What'd it look like? Was it huge?"

If it wasn’t bad enough that the hospital gown was already embarrassing, Connor’s comment drug a blush out of Rio almost instantaneously. “Uh -” Rio started, a nervous laughter escaping his mouth, “Yes, but I have like underwear and stuff” Rio eventually found the words and mumbled them quickly. There was no way he’d ever be caught dead completely exposed out in public. He already felt naked enough without something long sleeve to cover his arms. “It’s fine, my sister brought some clothes to me. I just haven’t put them on yet because nurses keep coming in to check the claw and bite marks.” Connor was right, regardless of how long he was here a game or comic would do wonders to help pass the time. It may even distract him from watching the news so much. “Thanks. Seriously this is awesome. I really appreciate it.” He had certainly said that a lot recently. “The wolf? Uh-” Rio tried to think of the wolf in relation to the other werewolves that he had seen. His experience seeing them transformed in person wasn’t as high as many other hunters, but he had definitely seen his fair share by now, “I mean he’s definitely bigger than a normal wolf or a human. They weren’t the biggest one I’ve seen, but they were definitely the scariest.”

"What, it's not an arse out kinda look?" Connor teased gently, but he could tell Rio was embarrassed. Hopefully knowing Connor didn't take any of this seriously would help him feel better about the whole thing. "What'd you tell them?" he asked. "Do they think it was just an out of control dog or something? There's no actual wolf-wolves in Maine, right?" He remembered reading that. "I haven't seen a normal wolf in person. Or a werewolf," he said, chewing the inside of his cheek. "At least not a transformed one. Did it--are you--" His throat was dry. He took a sip of Diet Coke from one of those McDonalds cups that always made it taste like shit because it went flat so fast. There wasn’t really a polite way to phrase this. "Will you turn? Did it like, bite you?" 

“Nothing about me is an ‘arse out kinda look’” Orion laughed again, copying Connor’s statement and bubbling them around quotation marks that Rio made with his fingers. Rio’s own style was very much covered, for multiple reasons. The scars didn’t help, but they certainly weren’t the only thing contributing to Rio’s irrational fear of anyone seeing him shirtless. “I didn’t tell them anything, honestly.” Rio shrugged, taking a bite of a burger and chewing before speaking again, “I sort of played the whole traumatized victim card. I just sat outside the restaurant until I got in the ambulance. But I heard some others talking about a wolf. I’m sure the police report is just going to say it was a wild animal attack.” Connor’s next question baffled Rio for a moment. Admittedly, he had never even considered the possibility. He had known his entire life that he couldn’t turn, so the fear had never crossed his mind during the fight last night. But at the mention of it, Rio thought of the bite mark on his leg beneath the blanket. It would be easy to say that he hadn’t been, but Connor was one of the closest friends that Rio had. He was also one of the few that Rio hadn’t been forced to show his hunter heritage too. He had taken advantage of that blessing for too long it seemed. “Oh uh- I guess technically yes they did bite me. But I’m not going to turn.” Rio spoke slowly and carefully, unsure exactly how he wanted to word it, “I can’t turn, actually.”

"Oh, c'mon. You're proper cute. If you weren't taken, I'd flirt the heck out of you," Connor said, dipping a chicken nugget in some BBQ sauce and practically swallowing it whole, flashing Rio a big grin. "I thought you were massively hot that time I first met you when you broke a lock with your bare hands." He was sure that would make Rio blush a bit more, but he hoped the fact he was shoving McDonalds down his gullet with no concern about looking attractive reassured Rio that he just meant it as a compliment and wasn't looking to make a move. Connor watched Rio's face when he answered the question about being bitten. He'd had a few curiosities about him ever since Nell had insisted Rio come with them to apprehend moon-murder Adam. Like she knew something he didn't. "Ah," he said, simply nodding. "You're immune." Now the easy padlock breaking made sense. "Sick." 

“So I’m supposed to believe that the whole time we’ve been friends you haven’t been flirting with me?” Orion teased, fully aware that Connor couldn’t get through an entire conversation without flirting at least once. He was that way with most people. Rio didn’t feel the need to mention that he technically wasn’t taken anymore. Doing so might imply that he was anywhere near to being over Winston or ready to be in a relationship again. Neither were true. “You’re a natural flirt, dude. It’s very charming.” He knew that by now Connor was aware that any complement towards Rio would immediately result in blushing. By some miracle, none of those made Rio dizzy anymore. The two were clearly close enough to talk like that now. “Ha ha. Well, I wouldn’t say hot. But we had to get in somehow.” The fact that Connor even remembered that factored into what Rio was trying to tell Connor now. Connor’s specialty was ghosts, so Rio had no idea if telling Connor that he was immune to the bite meant anything to him. It wasn’t exactly common knowledge, especially since only certain types of hunters were immune to it. It really only left Rio the option of just coming out and saying it. “Right. Yeah. Which uh- in case you aren’t aware… is because my genes carry certain abilities. That I got from my mom. Who was a werewolf hunter.” Talk about beating around the bush. He just didn’t want to claim that word for himself. Not out loud. “So I guess technically speaking, I have those genes. But I’m not a hunter. Just to be clear.”

"Trust me mate, if I was flirting with you, you'd know about it," Connor teased. He usually sounded a lot less confident when he was actually trying to flirt and not just... flirting as a friend. "Yeah, but it's just me being English and charming. Not actually trying to get into your trousers." He chuckled softly, flashing Rio a wink. "Cute as you are in that hospital gown." He stopped joking around for just a moment, listening to Rio talk. "Yeah, I know about people with abilities. Not a lot, but... enough. Adam talked to me about it too." Adam was no secret. They'd all seen his powers with their own eyes. It made him feel better that Rio was so quick to clarify that he wasn't a hunter. Connor gave him a small smile, nodding. "I know. You're a librarian."

Despite Orion’s lack of an appetite, he found himself eating far more than he had originally intended as he got lost in the conversation with Connor. Soon he had downed a burger, most of a ten piece nugget and the entire thing of fries. Maybe he had been hungrier than his stomach was letting him acknowledge. “Yeah, well I sure hope you’re not. Because I’m not even wearing any trousers.” Rio used an appallingly awful british accent for the last word. It was good being able to have talks like this. Even after what he had seen inside that restaurant. He needed the distractions. “Right. Makes sense. Was it after that night?” Rio wasn’t sure he actually wanted to know. The less he had to talk about Adam right now the better. Those feelings were far too confusing to add on top of everything else he had going on. “Adam and I are similar. Sort of. We both come from hunter families, but mine is a bit more focused. It gives me certain advantages that typical humans don’t have.” At least Connor was willing to move past it quickly and acknowledge that Rio wasn’t using the title for himself. “Yeah, a librarian. I guess it is something like that in a way.”

Connor laughed as Rio said trousers. “I know, right? Hospital gown's just a bit lacking on the sex appeal, mate." He finished the burger he'd been working on and started on some mozzarella bites. He nodded. One thing about White Crest was that it made you pretty bloody good at switching between jokes and serious topics. That Gallows humor came in strong. "It was, yeah. After the Moon Murder Spree. Which... that was a bloody hell of a time." Literally. Connor was still trying to process it. It wasn't that he didn't trust Adam. He didn't feel that Adam would ever hurt anyone maliciously when in his right mind. It was just still a bit weird. "Good genes but none of the murder," he said with a little smile, offering Rio some fries. "Sounds good to me." 

As far as Orion was concerned, everything about himself was lacking in sex appeal. But knowing Connor’s all too charming way with words, he wasn’t about to mention that. He preoccupied himself by staring at the uneaten food. He couldn’t believe Connor had grabbed all of this just to make sure Rio had something he liked. It was really nice. “Yeah. It was something like that. I’m just glad he’s back to his normal self.” Or at least the self that he presented to others. Rio still wasn’t convinced he was as easy going as he liked to claim. But he also couldn’t pretend to have spoken to him much recently. Ironically, Adam had been the first person that Rio had wanted to talk about the wolf attack with. “Right.” Rio agreed with Connor. He had discussed the hunter heritage, but he wasn’t exactly ready to break the news to him about his parent’s death. That might elicit a slightly different response. “I’ve never been much of a fighter, honestly. I definitely prefer safety.”

Connor continued to blank out the surrounding ghosts. They were growing a little louder now, as if beginning to realise that he was here. “I’m sorry, mate.” He paused sips of his coke and trying to decide whether he should even ask about this or just leave it to Rio to bring things up when he was ready. He had never been very good at holding in questions though. “So, what’s up with you and Winston? You never like, said very much about it. I know you were together at least since I moved here. They left town and you guys are… maybe broken up, or maybe not?” There was no blame in Connor’s voice, no judgement against Winston for what they’d felt they had to do. He just wanted to get Rio’s side of it. “I reckon that’s the hardest bit. The not knowing. That’d drive me nuts.” 

Figuring that eventually it would come up, Orion managed a grin when Connor mentioned Winston. Looking back, making a dramatic and sappy post about heartbreak may have been a bit more melodramatic than needed. Though he felt the pain of Winston’s absence, the breakup itself had hardly been the source of his anguish. It barely constituted being considered a breakup at all. “Great question. I don’t exactly know for sure. But I don’t think it’s that bad of a thing. At least I don’t think so.” Rio shrugged. He wasn’t sure how to explain it. “When they left town, we talked about me going with. I thought about it. But eventually I decided that I couldn’t leave yet. So we left things open ended. That someday Winston might come back and the two of us will see where we are at in our lives and if we still make sense. And if anything has changed than that’s fine too.” At the time, the conversation had made sense. Rio was happy with how they had chatted. Rio had gone to sleep crying, but overall he had been content. Now, Rio stressed about what that future may hold when Winston got back. The wolf attack definitely hasn’t helped anything. “Overall, I’m really freaking sad. But I’m okay too? If that makes sense.” 

"Not a bad thing?" Connor posed, expression quietly curious. He was pretty full now. He'd been casually picking away at his food the majority of this conversation. "The person you love leaving town isn't a bad thing?" He sipped his Diet Coke, shrugging. "I haven't really had a proper relationship before, but it sounds like a bad thing. They have to do what's best for them though. I don't hold it against them." You couldn't really blame anyone for wanting to leave White Crest with all the awful things that happened here, especially when someone close to you was killed in the awful circumstances Todd had died in. "Did you talk about if you can date other people?"

Orion shrugged as an answer. He couldn’t answer that question with any certainty because he wasn’t sure about his own feelings. “It’s hard to explain.” Another nervous laugh that Rio calmed by taking a drink from his cup. “They needed to go. I needed to stay. I hate not being with them, sure. That part is very bad. But I think they needed this. That makes me happy.” And it truly did. He hoped that Winston got everything needed out of their time away from town. No matter what that meant for their relationship. Winston’s happiness was the priority. “I’d say technically yes. We decided to leave things up to life.” Rio spoke slowly and carefully, “But I’m not sure it matters. I don’t really see myself dating anytime soon. It took a long time for Winston and I to even DTR.”

"That makes sense," Connor answered. “Well, last date I had, we were starting to get down to business and there was a fucking monster beaver eating my bed, so, even with this set-back, your love life’s probably better than mine,” he said with a laugh. Connor and Winston didn't know each other pretty much at all, and if Connor had a dog in this fight, it'd be Rio, but it didn't sound like there were any hard feelings. "Alright bro. I don't do relationship advice, so, stop me from eating the rest of these bloody chicken nuggets, and pleeeease tell me all the cool shit about your super powers?" 

“Oh god. That’s so awkward. I can’t believe I actually feel second hand embarrassment for you about a relationship. That’s supposed to be my thing.” Orion was full on cackling now, every single breath stinging his side. He didn’t care though, because it felt so good to not be so sad. “I think we could probably battle back and forth on that one. Did I ever tell you that my sister slept with Winston? I never even did that.” He wasn’t saying it for sympathy. He wasn’t even saying it angrily. He had moved past that long ago. This was simply matter of fact, a way for Rio to tell Connor more about his life. Connor was one of the closest friends that Rio had, it was time to start being a bit more open. “Deal. I’ll stuff my face some more. I’ll even tell you about the time I got fireballed through a window.”

[tarlosprompts]

Self-Destruct

Person A: “Why me?”

Person B: “What?”

Person A: “You could have had anyone, so why me?”

Person B: “.....Because you’re the only one I want, you always have been.... Is that really so hard to believe?”

Warnings: past drug addiction, past overdose, drug house, high teens, mild violence

Also, some of my information my not be correct in the drug world, so sorry.

Shout out to @write-it-motherfuckers​ for the prompt, I saw it when scrolling through my feed.

-Red💋

Part 2

TK Strand loved his job. He loved his job and the people he got to work with. Hell, he’d met the love of his life through his job. Officer Carlos Reyes. The Latino man was perfect in every way and TK was quite sure he didn’t deserve him most days...okay, so all of the time, but he wouldn’t be admitting that any time soon.

That’s why TK was in this funk and had been for the past few days. Thankfully Carlos and he had opposing shifts meaning that he hadn’t had to confront the man in this sour mood. Bad news, his crew had to deal with him. His father was giving him space, but he was pretty sure that if he kept up with his attitude, his dad would pull him aside to have a chat and TK definitely didn’t want that. Judd had tried to talk to him a couple of hours into the shift on his third day of being in the funk.

To say he’d bitten Judd’s head off would be an understatement. TK felt horrible about it. Judd cared about him, and he’d thrown it back in his face. This was further proof that he was undeserving of not only Carlos, but everyone around him. He fucked everything up constantly. 

Mateo and Marjan had both tried to talk to him subtly about his funk, but TK was having none of that. At the last minute, TK had been able to bite his tongue and walk away so as to not tear his teammates apart. The look on his face must have portrayed his annoyance and funk because none of the other firefighters approached him. He’d even caught a few going out of their way to stay as far away from him as possible.

The only person he could stand to be around at this point was Buttercup, the damn dog he said he wouldn’t let in because he wouldn’t be able to handle losing the dog to the same sickness his father had. He told Buttercup everything, muttered it into the brown fur, shed a couple of tears and locked it up again.

TK shook his hands out as the alarm blared. He was utterly professional on calls. He wouldn’t let his troubles fuck up someone else’s life. The ride to the call was quiet other than the rattling of the truck.

Upon arriving at the scene, TK felt his stomach drop as he got a good look at the people surrounding the house. He felt his lips form a thin line as his dad talked to the police Sergeant in charge of the scene. As Owen made it back over, TK could see the pinch at his eyes. “Drug bust gone wrong. This was half a stash house, half hideout for people to get high. Multiple injuries inside and outside. We were called to extract a couple of teens who fell through the floor near the back of the house.”

TK didn’t wait for a command, going over to the truck to grab harnesses that would be used to lower him and someone else down to get the two teens. As he began to harness up, a hand touched his shoulder. He looked up to see his dad giving him a look he knew too well. It was the look that said that he didn’t want to bring up his addiction but he was worried. “TK-”

“I can do my job. Just because this was a house full of junkies and I used to be one doesn’t mean I’m going to go home and relapse. You can’t keep me from doing my job every time it hits a little too close for home,” TK growled, shoving the second harness to Marjan. “This is the one part of the job I’m good at, rescuing people who got in over their head. So can you not act like a concerned father and act like a Captain who knows who on his team is best suited for what?”

“As your Captain, I should even have let you out of the firehouse with the way you’ve been acting today,” Owen’s eyes narrowed.

“Well you did, so at least let me do something I’m good at.”

____________

Before long, TK and Marjan were being lowered into the hole made by the teenagers falling through the floor. They hadn’t been able to talk with the teens, so each were paired with a dose of Narcan in case the teens had overdosed after the floor collapsed. 

TK and Marjan scanned their flashlights around the room slowly. “Fire Department! Call out so we know where you are,” TK called. Hearing something to his right, he turned just in time to have something collide with his head. “Fuck...Marj?”

“I don’t see them. They just disappeared in the dark. Are you alright?”

“I’m good,” he grumbled as he stood, eyes darting through the shadows. That answered a few questions on what the kids could have taken. Whatever it was, was probably causing hallucinations. The lashing out is because they were scared of whatever they were seeing due to the drug. “They’re not trying to hurt us. They’re scared,” he called. 

“But we’re trying to help them,” Marjan stated.

“Yes, but the drug isn’t letting them understand that. All they know is that they fell through the floor and are probably in pain. Whatever they took probably has hallucinogenic properties which is why they’re lashing out...because they want to protect themselves. One of them is probably too hurt to move which is fueling the hallucination and their need to protect.”

“What’s going on down there,” their radios crackled.

TK heard Marjan respond, but he was too focused on the pipe coming straight towards his face. He barely got his hands up before the pipe hit him. He grunted, grabbing hold of the pipe and yanking it towards him. A shaggy brunette just a couple of inches taller than him staggered forward. “You won’t hurt him,” he growled.

“I don’t want to hurt your friend. I want to help,” he had to get a read on how strung out the kid was. As the kid continued to fight against him, TK’s answer was clear. Too strung out to reason with. “Marj, be careful, but look for the other teen. I’ve got this one.”

“You sure?”

“Marjan,” he shouted, getting her into motion.

Taking a punch to the face, TK muttered to himself as he stumbled back. He caught the next punch, returning the favor with one of his own while simultaneously taking the teen to his knees. He used the momentum to push the kid to the ground and put his body weight to use trying to keep the guy down. He got an elbow to the jaw for his troubles, immediately feeling blood start to enter his mouth from the split lip the elbow caused.

As much as TK wanted to ram the kid’s head into the cement below them, he refrained. This was just a strung out kid, he didn’t know what he was doing. He kept the mantra ‘this is just a kid’ even as the kid brought his head back to headbutt him. 

A couple of minutes later had Marjan returning with the injured teen and TK sitting beside an unconscious teen. She rose an eyebrow at him and he glared. “There was no reasoning with him. I thought he’d stop after the first couple of times I hit him, but he kept going.”

He stood, holding on tightly to the unconscious teen as Marjan radioed the team that they were ready to come topside. The looks he got from the three remaining team members further soured his mood. He rolled his eyes as Michelle took the teen from him. “You got all of that,” Judd pointed to his face, “from that green bean?”

TK felt his eye twitch, but he bit his tongue, turning around and stalking out of the house. He ignored the look on his dad’s face as he passed him. The ride back to the station was even quieter than the ride to the house. He couldn’t wait to get a shower to wash off the aches, blood, and memories. 

Before TK could run off to the showers, he was stopped by his dad. “TK, a word?”

“Can I shower first?”

Owen’s face said that it wasn’t an option. TK felt the nervous energy that coated his body. He needed a shower or he was going to explode and really fuck everything up. “I need a shower then we can talk,” TK’s voice shook with the strain of keeping the memories from overtaking him. The memories of the times he was in a hideout with his friends getting higher than the sun. Memories of being too doped out of his mind to stop his friend from overdosing. Memories of the highs.

“Your behavior for the past few days has been unacceptable, TK. We need to talk now.”

Something snapped, and it all came tumbling out. Everything he wanted to keep hidden from his dad and team...from Carlos. “From the way I’ve been acting I should have been fired days ago,” he shouted, turning away from his team. “Every time I think I have something-every time I think I’m going to be good or my life is good I go and I fuck it up! First it was with drugs, I started using and hasn’t that fucked me up enough,” he laughed, beginning to pace.

“And-And every time I think I have myself together, you all just walk on eggshells around me. Ever since I told you about my addiction, you walk on eggshells and Dad, you’ve done that since you found out about my addiction! It drives me mad because I’m not some breakable teen who will relapse at the wrong word out of your mouths! And to hell if I don’t think about using every once in a while, but I never do anything about it because I’m doing so good. And then I’m not doing good and I’m wondering how any of you can see me-how any of you can like this,” he motioned to himself, “to me.”

“Every time something good comes into my life, it gets taken away and I’m just waiting for this to slip from my grip too. I loved a man, was willing to give my all to him, was willing to marry him and the night I wanted to propose to him, he told me he was in love with someone else and had been cheating on me for months. He slipped through my fingers and I fucking relapsed like a child and I died on you,” he looked at Owen, but he turned back to his pacing just as quickly as he’d stopped.

“I didn’t like the firehouse in New York. We weren’t a family, not like this. I wasn’t scared of losing them. I’m scared of losing all of you. I’m afraid of fucking up so badly that I lose all of you and I can’t stop fucking thinking about it. And that makes me wonder how anyone can be happy with me around. How can anyone love me the way I love them? How can someone love a fuck up like me? A former junkie? An addict? Someone who has to struggle every day with his addiction because he was stupid enough to get addicted to drugs. I don’t deserve any of you and you all deserve so much better,” his voice was quiet as he finished his rant. He ran a hand down his face, scrubbing the tears that had fallen. “I really need that shower.”

____________

TK had skipped the shower. He’d snuck out through the back and started to walk home. He’d spilled all of his thoughts just because a call had brought up a few bad memories. He wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have a job to come back to come tomorrow. 

TK didn’t know where he was going. He only had one thought, and that was to get out of his head. He couldn’t take it anymore. The more he thought about how he’d screwed up, the more he thinks of his fuck ups, the more he gets that itch to use. He fucking refused to relapse. 

That’s how TK found himself staring at the door in front of him. The Camero in front suggested that Carlos was home. Before he knew it, he was knocking. He bit his lip, starting to back away from the door as it began to open. Before he could turn tail and run, Carlos was calling his name. “Tyler? Aren’t you supposed to be on shift?”

TK slowly turned around, noticing how Carlos’s eyes trailed over his face and how his frown deepened. Carlos gently pulled TK into the house, sitting him on the couch before going to retrieve the first aid kit. He returned in a matter of seconds, crouching in front of TK and starting to clean up his wounds. The look in TK’s eyes scared him, if he was being honest. 

They didn’t talk as Carlos cleaned up the blood from the split lip. But as Carlos began to stand up and go to put the kit back up, TK spoke. “Why me,” his voice was so quiet, Carlos almost thought he imagined his voice.

The way TK pointedly didn’t look at him was all the proof Carlos needed to know that TK had spoken. “What do you mean?”

“You could have had anyone, why me?”

Carlos was back to crouching in front of TK, trying to get him to meet his eyes. Finally, he placed his hands on either side of TK’s face, making him look at him. “Because you’re the one I want, Tyler, you always have been.” He bit his lip as he saw the look of doubt in TK’s eyes. “Is that really so hard to believe, Tyler Kennedy? I love you so much it hurts. I want to have everything with you because I love you. If it takes me the rest of my life trying to prove it to you, I will. You mean everything to me. Mi Mundo, mi sol, I love you and I always will.”

[foradecision]

i.    “ the devil whispered in my ear,  ‘ you’re not strong enough to withstand the storm. ’  today i whispered in the devil’s ear,  ‘ i am the storm. ’ ”

OLD TOWN, DAY 33 ; 13:24:56.

     the apartment is picked mostly clean, the fruits of his labor yielding little more than some scrap electronics and an open box of band - aids. other things, things for trade: coffee, cosmetics, a couple of undamaged children’s books, things he doesn’t have use for but someone else will. there’s an eviscerated corpse slumped on the kitchen floor against the cabinets, at the end of a trail of blood. tenant, maybe — or maybe just some unlucky bastard who tried to find shelter and found their own grave instead. insects buzz and swarm, and the smell of decomp is strong. there’s not much left. crane covers the body with a bedsheet before he moves to check the bathroom.

     water leaks from underneath the locked door. once he gets it open, he sees why. 

     she was young. early twenties, if that. she’s half curled with bent knees in the overflowing tub, eyes open, skin bloodless and cold. drug paraphernalia litters the filthy tiled floor. accidental overdose or suicide; he’d put money on the latter, only because she’s not the first he’s seen. 

     there was a riverside shack in the slums, a mile or so behind the tower, where someone had tasted his handgun. left a note and a milk crate of canned food on his porch, telling whoever found it to take what they needed. there were those people on the rooftop of an apartment complex, the ones who’d gotten stranded and decided to cash out on their own terms. some of them died holding hands, family photos clutched close.

     a woman on a hotel bed surrounded by pill bottles. a man who’d hung himself in the basement of a restaurant.

     it doesn’t get easier. no matter how many, it doesn’t get easier.

     “i’m sorry nobody came for you,” crane murmurs, and gently closes the girl’s eyes. “... hope you found someplace better than this shithole.”

     he takes a moment, a five - count, then secures his findings, doubles back, and steps outside onto the terrace.

     a wooden latticework awning provides slatted shade from the afternoon sunlight. it dapples across skin slick with sweat and dust and dirt. blood, but not his. back - spatter, arterial spray. it’s everywhere but his face; missed his eyes and mouth, hit the visor of a scavenged police helmet he’d pulled off an infected near the quarantine wall.

     the slums are bad, but old town is a fucking war zone. virals run rampant through the streets and over the rooftops, acid - spitting toads linger near the waterfront and drainage culverts; massive demolishers pave paths of destruction wherever they can, hurling debris from empty lots, crushing anything that comes close, infected and human alike. rais’ thugs circle every drop point like vultures, armed to the teeth, and more than one desperate survivor has tried to jump crane for his supplies. 

     the worst are the screamers. the infected children. they were occupying one of the residential neighborhoods here in jarring numbers before he’d worked his way through and taken them out, quiet and reverent. 

     he dreams about them, sometimes. hears their anguished sobs and terrified wails in his sleep, waking drenched in flop sweat with his ears ringing and his heart in his throat. goddamn kids. one of the guys in his company used to rib him about that. fuckin’ soft touch, crane. that shit’ll get you killed.

     the narrow street below is clear, just a handful of shuffling biters that are easily dispersed. he’s bent over the open trunk of a car, ferreting through an old duffel bag, when he hears it. 

     a cry. a child’s cry.

     immediately, he’s standing straight. immediately he’s moving, trying to source the sound, gripping his machete tight. he’s thinking god, don’t let it be another one, until there are words instead of just noise and his pulse jumps hard.

     somewhere close by, a child is calling out for their father. calling for help. 

     shouting is dangerous, lethal, especially here, but it’s a risk he’s willing to take. he moves down the street, looking into darkened storefronts, dumpsters, the backs of vans. he thinks he’s close, can’t be sure; cuts down an infected that ambles toward him from beside a busted atm and four more that follow, and calls back, “hey, i hear you! i hear you, i’m on my way, just — can you tell me where you are? kid — ?”

     there’s no verbal answer: only a scream, too much like too many he’s had to hear, but that’s plenty. crane breaks into a run and vaults through the smashed front window of a pizza place where a dozen biters are swarming the counter. stumbling, trying to climb over each other to get to whatever’s on the other side. he snaps the first one’s neck before the others notice him but makes swift work of the rest, too. barely stopping for breath, he steps over the bodies, searching, searching —

     “it’s safe, you can come out.”

     the response is muffled, like it’s blocked by something. “where’s my dad?”

     “i — i don’t know, but i can help you look for him, alright? i’m not gonna hurt you. they’re gone now, it’s okay. come on out.”

     scuffling, then a thud, and then a pair of big doe eyes are peering at him from next to the cash register. “are you one of the bad guys?”

     “what? no — no, i’m not, i promise. my name’s kyle. you wanna tell me your name?”

     “eren. the monsters —”

     “the monsters are gone, eren. did they get you?”

     more scuffling, and the boy finally emerges, wiping his nose with his sleeve. he looks five, maybe six, small and dark - haired, dirty but at a glance unharmed. he shakes his head. “i hid in the cubby. my dad went to find food.”

     crane stays where he is, wary of making any sudden moves. “and he left you here, all by yourself?”

     “the window wasn’t broken before.”

     “how long’s he been gone?”

     “since the bells.”

     “the bells — ?” it takes him a second, because it’s a sound unique to old town and he spends most of his time in the slums; then he understands. “oh, you — you mean the church bells? he’s been gone since this morning?”

     eren nods and wipes his nose again. crane opens his mouth to speak when the boy brightens suddenly, as suddenly as the sound of boots crunching glass from just behind him. 

     “dad!”

     he turns, and he’s staring down the business end of an automatic rifle.

     “show me your hands!”

     “ah, jesus — don’t — don’t shoot, i’m not here to hurt anyone, look —” slowly, carefully, crane raises his left hand with the palm facing outward and starts lowering himself into a crouch to set his machete down on the floor. his right hand follows his left and he eases back upright, all without once looking away from the man’s face. a man dressed in tactical gear, whose grip on the gun is steady. skilled. he has a couple weeks of beard growth that makes his age harder to determine. “my name’s kyle crane, i’m one of brecken’s guys. from the tower. your son was callin’ for help, i just came to make sure he was okay.”

     as he speaks, eren scampers past and tucks in close to his father. “dad, he killed the monsters. look!” 

     “he sure did, didn’t he.” the man levels crane with a piercing, long - calculating stare, and finally lowers the gun. “you’re not one of them?”

     “no. god, no. i just wanted to help.”

     a nod. he lays a gloved hand on his son’s head. “then i owe you a lot more gratitude. i swear this place was secure when i left, but — those things ...”

     “yeah,” crane says, blowing out a low breath. “i know, believe me. i’m glad i got here when i did.”

     “so am i.” a beat. “thank you.”

     “what the hell are you doin’ out here? you know they turned the university into a safe house, right?”

     the man nods again. “we came from there. somebody passing through said there was a ferry, in the slums. that’s where we were headed.”

     “i’m — sorry to be the one to tell you this, but — the ferry dock’s gone. there are no more boats. none of us are gettin’ out of here unless one of the higher - ups orders an evac by air, and in case you haven’t noticed, that doesn’t seem like their top priority.”

     “then it’s only a matter of time before the GRE decontaminates this entire zone. infamy bridge is already compromised.”

     crane blinks. the back and forth is familiar, the terminology well practiced. “uh — yeah. yeah, it’s startin’ to look that way. but — listen, you need to get to the tower. get to brecken’s people, tell him crane sent you. they’ll take care of you and your son. there’s plenty of food, supplies, there’s even a doctor on site. you’ll be safe there.”

     “and what about antizin?”

     “what? a—are you — were you bitten?”

     they share a look, and everything this man isn’t saying is written in every line of his face. eren twists from under his hand to peer up at him. “dad ... ?”

     “no,” the man says, but it’s for his son’s benefit, not crane’s. crane already knows it’s a lie. “don’t you worry, kiddo. i’m just fine. here,” he kneels down and sets his rifle aside, swinging a bag from his shoulder and opening it up to hand eren a bottle of water, a packet of halva, and a stuffed teddy bear. “look what i found. why don’t you go think of what to name him while you eat your food, okay? let me talk to the monster slayer for a minute.”

     “cool!” eren grabs his prizes and trots off to one of the booths near the counter, the one furthest from any dropped bodies.

     once he’s safely out of earshot, the man stands up and turns to crane again. “on the leg. happened after i left this morning. my eye was to the scope, i didn’t even see it coming.”

     there’s that familiarity again, but it’s overshadowed by an ache below his sternum. crane swallows, adam’s apple riding the motion, pulling off his helmet to run a hand through sweat - soaked hair. “— i got caught in a clusterfuck, about a month ago. bite on the arm. antizin isn’t easy to come by, but brecken’s people have it. i’ll make sure there’s enough, you’ve got my word.”

     keen eyes, still clear of any visible signs of infection, give crane a deeply searching look for a full thirty seconds. he seems like he wants to say more, but settles instead for offering a hand. crane shakes it firmly without hesitation. “ali. you’ve given me a lot to consider.”

     “just as long as you consider it, and do it fast. ‘n hey — one more thing.” crane’s hand drops and he pulls out the three children’s books he’d found, bringing them to eren. “hi, buddy. you think of a name yet?”

     “no, i — hey! where’d you get those?”

     “what, these?” he holds them up one at a time, pretending to act casual, then sets them each down on the table. “well, i found ‘em, but — to tell you the truth, they’re way too advanced for me. you look like you’re pretty smart — think you can find some use for ‘em?”

     “yeah!” eren grabs for all three, sweeps them into his tiny arms and grins up at crane. “i can read bedtime stories to my bear now, so she won’t have bad dreams.”

     “see? i knew you were smart.”

     from behind crane, ali prompts gently, “what do you say to mr. crane?”

     “thank you!”

     “my pleasure, buddy. be careful out here, okay? take good care of your dad for me. he’s gonna take you someplace safe, with lots more kids to play with. sound good?”

     eren nods emphatically. barely a moment later, he has the teddy bear propped in his lap and one of the books laid open, turning pages, talking softly in the stuffed toy’s ear. 

     crane watches for a minute. his features soften, but the whisper of a smile that curves his mouth is bittersweet. he’s already made the mental note to radio ahead — to tell the tower’s guards to be on the lookout for these two — and to check back in here before he returns to the slums himself. they aren’t the first he’s redirected. some people make it. some don’t. 

     on his backpedal from the booth, he pauses to pick up his machete and slip it into its holster, helmet under one arm. 

     “if you leave within the hour, you should get there before sunset,” he tells ali. “northeast sewers are the quickest — two klicks, pretty much a straight shot from there.”

     “i know where it is. thank you, again.”

     “hey, you can thank me once you’re both safe.”

     another nod. crane returns it, then starts toward the broken window. he’s almost there, almost stepping through to the street outside, when ali’s next words stop him in his tracks and make some of his breath woof out of him like a suckerpunch. 

     “semper fi, marine.”

[janiedean]

Cracktastic here. #30, JB. 😉

30. I am the hero and you are the villain. I am out of options so I came to you for help but there is literally a 90% chance you will let me bleed out AU

(AAAND WITH A TWIST PROBABLY) (also it’s long SORRY NOT SORRY)

He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t his very last choice.

Except that Jaime really has no other fucking option right now so it’s either the thrice-damned Beauty of Tarth or nothing, a moniker that the papers gave her a long time ago and that has pissed her off since because she’s anything but, and he’s only seen her a couple of times but they were enough to grasp why it stuck.

Privately, he always thought it was kind of cruel, but the only time he tried voicing that opinion Cersei was nearby, so he didn’t really finish voicing it and left it there. Anyway, it’s not like their paths usually cross - she’s usually there to be a nuisance to Cersei, not to him, and he and Cersei have extremely different areas of expertise when it comes to protecting people - being born with superpowers never quite left them a chance to do anything but, but Jaime always enjoyed it, he likes helping others.

Except that right now he’s in a fucking mess because he had bitten more than he could chew and disrupting a whole drug ring that he had been trailing for a while with some help by Inspector Tully from KLPD, who has been feeding him classified information for months, on his own... ended up not being a good idea. He’s faster than the average human, very much, and he can bend fire to his will, but he’s also not invincible and he miscalculated, which means that now he’s been shot one time too many by one person too many and either someone patches him up or he’s going to bleed out in a ditch -

And the only option he has right now is her lair, which everyone knows is right next to where they left him to bleed out but everyone avoids at the same time because who even wants to have contact with her?

Still.

It’s either that or nothing. Maybe he’ll see if he can convince her in exchange for a favor or something.

He drags himself as far as the door, then crashes on his knees before he can knock -

And the door opens, and he sees blue eyes looking down into his, and they’re not as cold as he had imagined they’d be, and he faints.

That was definitely not dignified.

--

He opens his eyes.

He’s lying on a bed - a nice bed. Nothing opulent or covered in silken sheets, like the one at the manor, but nonetheless comfortable, with freshly cleaned cotton sheets embroidered in tiny blue flowers. Now that he looks at them, the embroidery is clearly uneven, but still... somehow charming. He groans as he sits up, and then -

“Don’t,” a voice says, a female voice, “you’ll pull your stitches and it took me a while to patch you up.”

He falls back against the pillow and turns towards his right -

Oh.

There she is.

She’s standing next to the right side of the bed, and woah, she’s tall, he thinks, has to be taller than him even if not by much. She’s wearing her usual dark blue uniform, but no mask over her face now, not that she wears it that often - it doesn’t cover her broken nose and the spots of freckles over her pale face or her too-large lips. Her straw blonde hair is tied up in a messy bun and she’s looking down at him with those large, clear blue eyes, and she looks... sad.

Then she shakes her head and helps him sit up, gently, carefully, and now he can see that he’s in a nice room with blue walls, books on the shelves, a wardrobe and a window staring on the road where he had been dumped.

“You - you patched me up?” He asks, aware that he sounds completely dumbfounded. She snorts.

“You were bleeding out on my damned doorstep, Goldenhand.” She spits the name like it was venom. “And I don’t suppose you crawled over it to die, except that it’s only me and a few others here and no one else can actually patch a wound, so it was either me or nothing. You’re welcome.”

"I just asked,” he says defensively. “I didn’t think -”

“What,” she snorts, and he doesn’t like how that tone makes her sound, she has a nice voice, “that I, the unfortunate Beauty of Tarth, would do something nice for a man in need? Of course you didn’t think.” She sighs, falling down on the chair. “Don’t flatter yourself. Doesn’t make you an exception.”

Ouch. The way she says it, it sounds so sad, it makes him feel like shit. But -

“Sorry,” he says, meaning it. “I just - I guess I didn’t assume -”

“You didn’t assume,” she laughs again, “of course you did not. Again. Listen, please, if you can’t say anything that’s not I thought you would leave me there to die because that’s what everyone would assume considering what this entire city thinks of you just keep your mouth shut and leave it.”

He should.

He should, after all it’s not like he had any other reason to assume that, not when Cersei has told him over and over again of the countless times she and the Beauty fought these last few years, but the way she says it -

“Listen, we started with the wrong foot,” he says, deciding that he’s not letting this go. “But you helped me and I obviously am not working with all of the information you have, so how about you help me out and explain what this is about?”

“Oh,” she says, “let’s see. Why did you assume I was going to let you die? Because everyone thinks that I’m spending my time here and only coming out to protect bank robbers or cash in money from supposed minions I have spread all over the city or frighten young children or disrupt your sister’s work while she rescues them? Because I was involved in that incident at that beauty pageant where your sister was supposed to attend but didn’t because she had superhero duties to attend, the entire place exploded and all of those girls forgot ever entering into another pageant again? Because I was the only person in her class who didn’t come to the graduation ceremony and everyone decided I was a sore arse with zero socialization skills and that I’m as ugly inside as I look and so I can only be the bad guy of the situation? Don’t bother answering me, I can see it in your face.”

Jaime closes his mouth. Damn. She sounded really resentful. And he’s about to ask her what it’s it about except that then she reaches up and wipes a tear from her eyes and for a moment her fingers tremble, going transparent -

Right.

She has water powers. She can actually turn into water, if she wants to. She might not be controlling it so much right now, and for a moment he shudders thinking of the months his father tormented both him and Cersei in order to properly control their fire - or well, him, because it took Cersei nothing to learn and it took him longer, but still -

“Well,” he says, “I see there’s another side to your story, so how about you share it?”

“I don’t think you would want to hear it,” she replies.

“Try me,” he retorts back, wishing she would give him a chance, and then she sighs and sits down next to him, staring straight at him.

“Okay,” she says, “let’s see if you do. Starting from the last point... yes, I did miss that graduation. You know why? Because your sister and all her friends hated me. They hated me from the second I walked inside that class when we were eleven, and back then they just made fun of the fact that - well, my father was a regular human, she and the others come from families where everyone in each generation has some kind of mutation, and so I controlled it worse than them because no one taught me. Then, well. Back then I was plain, then I became like this, so then I was too ugly for them to consider, which means that I graduated with a higher score than all of them without a single person who’d talk to me for seven years because oh, right, meanwhile my father died and if I wasn’t at school I’d be at his bedside. But never mind that.” She sighs. “When I left, I meant to - do good. I really wanted to. This - the house was the only valuable thing my father left me, so I sold my own apartment and took residence here, except that all of my former classmates including your sister trash-talked me for a while to anyone they’d know, even contacts, which meant that most children who were in contact with them were fucking afraid of me because they were told I was as mean as ugly, which meant that all their friends thought the same and so on.” She stops, looks down at her hands.

“It also meant that no one in the police wanted to be my contact and the only people who agreed to help me out with anything were criminals wanting to get out without involving the police, which is why I have helped smuggle enough of them to the North with no one being the wiser, but what people knew... became that I helped criminals. Not that I helped take down rings with former criminals having informed me and without the police wanting to help me. Then oh, the pageant. This one you won’t want to hear.”

Jaime, who has felt all of his blood rush from his face, shakes his head. “What about the pageant?”

“Your sister was supposed to run in it but your father told her that Wildfire had to be attend the opening of that group home they named after her.”

“Yeah, I remember that. And so?”

“So, I remember having had a run-in with her the previous day while she was trying to kill one of my informers, and she wasn’t exactly putting her heart in it, and for your information, I have some basic... telepathy skills.”

“You can read minds?”

“Not really, but if someone is thinking very loudly and we’re both running on adrenaline, I can. And she was definitely thinking that if it can’t be me then it can’t be anyone else, so the next day I dropped by the pageant just to make sure nothing was amiss except that the moment I showed up they about kicked me out and I told them that they might need me after, because you know... water powers, but they didn’t want to hear it, and oh, wait, it exploded in wildfire, didn’t it? Except that then I came back and put it out but they decided I started it in the first place. Because of course I was jealous, as if I would even care by now.”

Jaime’s first instinct is defending Cersei, because of course she wouldn’t -

Except that she was pissed off that she missed the pageant.

And she had seemed strangely not sad when she heard the news.

He says nothing.

“All right. And?”

“Huh. You went farther than I thought you would. Well, that’s about fucking it. I mean, each single time I tried to do anything good she had made sure everyone would assume I had bad intentions, most criminals she ends up going after as strangely my own informers so of course I have to fight her, she made sure everyone would hate me while we were in school and I don’t know what she says about this place... actually, what does she say about it?”

“Uhm,” he says, “that... you invite criminals here all the time and you live with a bunch of them?”

She snorts. “I live,” she says, “with five cats, the only single orphan in King’s Landing who isn’t afraid of me -”

“Wait, what’s that about?”

She shrugs, her cheeks flushing darker. “I was going around Flea Bottom at some point because it’s the only place where I can actually help people without people assuming I want to rob them, Pod was sitting outside his door in the middle of winter, I asked him what was wrong, he said his parents locked him out because they couldn’t feed him anymore and he was useless, I tried to have a word with them and they said they didn’t even want him and so I brought him here, what was I going to do? Let him starve? At least someone thinks I don’t want to sell them on the black market. So, I was saying - right, Pod, then there’s my former mentor in school who also was kicked out of her university position a few years later because your father needed it for a friend -”

“Wait, Catelyn Tully lives with you?”

“When she’s not with her family in Winterfell, yes. She helps me with tech and a few other things and she found me a contact to help smuggle people out of the city. And that’s about it, no one else is living here. I run my empire of crime all on my own, Goldenhand, and you’re free to believe me or not but that’s the truth of it. And since you never were a problem and I know you actually are in this because you like it and not because you want the publicity, I had no moral issues with patching you up. And if your sister had been in your place I’d have patched her up too, because as much as I hate her, I wouldn’t let anyone die on my fucking doorstep. There you go,” she says. “That’s the whole truth. Feel free to believe me or not, but if I were you I’d avoid moving for the next couple of days. That was a bad wound.”

She stops, her eyes falling down to her joined hands.

Jaime wants to say something, but he spends five minutes without finding a word, because what do you even say to this, and then she makes a wounded noise in the back of her throat.

“Well, I guess it was good enough you heard me out.”

“Oh, for - can you give me a second?” He blurts. “I lost I don’t know how much blood and you proceeded on informing me of things that I had no idea of until yesterday and which about might be a tad shocking to hear, I never said I didn’t believe you!”

“... Oh.” She shakes her head. “Right. I’m sorry, I just - I got caught up feeling sorry for myself, I guess. You’re right. I’ll - get you something to drink.”

She stands and leaves the room, long legs clad in blue jeans disappearing beyond the door.

Jaime takes a ragged breath and thinks about it.

The moment she comes back and he’s drunk the glass of water she handed him, he clears his throat.

“It adds up,” he says.

“What?”

“Your story. It adds up. With... everything. And with a lot of things concerning my sister I always overlooked because it was convenient. And - I’m sorry about it. You don’t sound at all like the person people make you to be.”

“Thanks, I guess,” she says, not quite looking at him. “I, uh, I - appreciate it. And - I mean, I know who cut you open like that.”

“... You do?”

She nods, wearily. “The Boltons,” she sighs. “Been trying to nail them for a while. I helped some five informers get out while i was doing it. But they’re too much for me on my own and they’re too well-connected. The father tried to hire me once.”

“He did?”

“I told him to fuck off and that didn’t help, so. I haven’t managed yet.”

Jaime nods, thinking on it.

Hm.

They were too much for him and his police connections, but maybe -

“Say,” he says, slowly, “you have informers in their midst?”

“Yes,” she nods. “I’m not going to tell you.”

“I wasn’t asking. But I was thinking - I have contacts in the police. My sister doesn’t care to help me out with this one job and my father can’t care less as long as I honor the family name. You have them from the inside and you live close to their headquarters. And, uh, we are... kinda complimentary. With powers, I mean. Maybe... we could join forces?”

She looks up at him, blinking in surprise. “What?”

“Why not? I mean, you obviously want to dismantle them, I want to dismantle them, we could help each other out, you’re definitely not a horrible person and you didn’t let me die on your doorstep, and if you want a better reputation you’re going to have to start somewhere, right?”

She stares at him as if she can’t believe he just said that and as if he’s considering it, and after a long while he’s hoping he hasn’t overstepped, but then -

Then she tentatively holds a hand out.

“Brienne,” she says.

“Wait, sorry?”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s my damned name, Goldenhand. I’m pretty sure that if I have to work with you maybe it’d be good if we introduced ourselves properly?”

Oh. Oh.

He immediately holds out his right, the one that’s always slightly burned because that’s where he sprouts flames, shaking hers. She has long, strong, warm fingers. Her hold is very careful, very gentle, same as before.

He thinks he won’t mind camping in her house as long as it takes for him to get back on his feet and for the two of them to plan their raid.

“Jaime,” he says, letting himself smile, “my name is Jaime.”

She smiles back, her eyes wide and warm, and they’re so, so very pretty, he thinks.

He’s glad that he dragged himself on her doorstep.

He really is.

[butwhatifyouwrite]

Molly’s Redemption Chapter 1

Here is chapter 1. Read the prologue here. It will be a few days before I get chapter 2 up. 

cw: anxiety, anxiety attack, flashbacks, young whumpee in flashbacks (she’s 13, but the age is never explicitly mentioned), disassociation, mention of past torture, unintentional frightening a younger sibling, self blame, self-hate

Chapter 1: The Morning

Molly gets up once she finally hears movement downstairs. She was right. She didn't go back to sleep. Every time she tried to close her eyes again, the memories overwhelmed her. Her chest tightened and she fought for every breath. That feeling lessened slightly when she opened her eyes again and gave into being awake. And she tried, she really did. She tried what Dr. Donovan suggested.

Find five things she can see. Four things she can feel. Three things she can hear. Two things she can smell. One thing she can taste. Again. Five things she can see. Four things she can feel. Three things she can hear. Two things she can smell. One thing she can taste. Again… 

Like a chant, a mantra in her head. She goes through it. Goes through the motions, until almost inevitably something sets her off again. 

Breath in.

Five things she can see.

The bed, the chair, the desk, the pictures on the wall, the bookcase.

Breath out.

Four things she can feel.

The bed underneath her, soft yet supporting her, her hair against her cheek, the socks at the end of the bed that she kicked off in the middle of her nightmare, the sheets on the bed.

The sheets. 

Oh god the sheet. That’s all she can see, and she can't even see that clearly. One eye is swollen shut from the beating she already received. Her lip throbs. She can hear a clear voice above her. See the shadows, the robes. The odd shadows of their heads from the masks they wear. The bloodstains on the sheet from those before her.

"Come my friends. Tonight is a very special night. We have a very special treat for you."

Light. Blinding light. Light that hurts. It’s right in front of her, then off to the side. And it’s hot. Suffocatingly so. Blurry figures. They move around her, almost as if they are dancing. One of them grabs her hair, pulling her head up. Putting her on display like the newest piece of meat at the butcher-shop. She can't see anyones face, they all wear masks, covering their faces, hiding their shame. Then she sees the tools on the table in front of her. Knives, whips, chains, rope.

No. No. She is not there. She’s in her bed, in her room. It's late. She should be sleeping, but she can't. So she lays there until the sun comes up. Until she hears her mother get up and start a pot of coffee. She hears the quiet steps on the stairs and her mother comes up to wake her sister. She will wake her sister up first. Try to allow her a few more minutes of sleep. Her mother says teenagers need more sleep. She tries to stay in bed until she hears the light knock on her door waking her for another day. She can't. She’s to restless.

She gets up and starts to get dressed. She hears her mother knock on her sisters door. Quiet voices, then quieter shuffles. Then a tiny knock on her own door. A tiny head peaks around the corner.

"Molly are you awake.” A tiny voice to match the tiny head and the tiny body that follows it.

"Sure am Mer.” A smile plays across Molly’s face. No matter how long the night was, she can always count on her sister to brighten things up.

Meredith sneaks into her room, in that dreaded white nightgown and hops up on the bed. Always the perfect example of boundless childhood energy.

Molly’s breath hitches in her throat. Her chest constricts, feeling like it has been placed in a vice. The room tilts, or maybe thats her. She hits the floor next to her desk,  gasping for air, but nothing she gets into her lungs is enough. She presses her hands over her eyes. Try to block it all out. 

“Molly!" Meredith shrieks.

She sounds scared. Someone should help her. She’s scared. She needs help.

Her voice cracks as she tries to speak. Every word hurts. She's been unconscious for who knows how long and her throat is dry as she tries to answer.

"And what's your name little one?"

"Mol... Molly Ashton."

Crack. A whip lashes out of a hand hitting her across the stomach. Molly’s screams echo off of the cold concrete walls.

"Molly. Molly. Come back to me. Can you tell me where you are right now.” Why does that voice seem so far away?

Crack.

The whip smacks down again. This time across her right arm. She screams again. No one is coming to help her. No one knows where she is. They may know she didn’t get on the bus, didn’t make it home, didn’t-

"Molly, look at me. Can you see me?"

She fights hard against the hands on her shoulders. And then she realizes, they aren't holding her down, they are just holding her. 

“Elliot?" It comes out with a fair amount of effort. It takes everything in her to pull into the present enough to even recognize her own boyfriends voice.

"Yes, yes it's me. Molly It's me.” Elliot sounds scared, but his face says he is trying his best to hide it.

He must have come over early before school. He usually does. The pressure of his hands on her shoulders is still a bit too much. She is a mere fraction of an inch away from sinking back under. The tiniest step would send her cascading downwards into a spiral that she worries some day will never end. She fights like hell not to fall back under. She fights like hell to stay in the present. Things are much kinder in the present. 

"Are you with me?” Elliot asks, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

Oh shit, that was a question. She needs to answer the question.

"...yes... I think so…. I’m, I’m trying.” He slides his hands down her shoulders and over her arms. She flinches away, almost expecting a flash of pain as his hands hit the point where the whip had bitten into her skin years before. He gently takes her wrists, trying to guide her up from the floor.

Hands grab her wrists before her my eyes have even begun to adjust to the light. A rope is wrapped tightly around her wrists and up her arms. Too tightly. It digs in. Scratches. Rubs. Hurts. After several hours of screaming and struggling the rope does damage too.

"Molly... I'm sorry.. Molly…" The hands move off her wrists and back up to her shoulders.

"Don't... please…" She croaks out.

Elliot backs away slightly. Her room comes back into focus some. Fucking hell, it's getting worse again. 

She is breathing heavily, and every breath hurts. She sits for a second trying to bring herself further back to the present.

"Are you with me Molly?” Elliot asks again, a bit more steadily this time.

"I think so…" She can see her room now, at the very least. Even if she doesn’t feel completely grounded in it.

"Were you back there again?” It’s a dumb question. He doesn’t know what else to ask.

“Yes." How could she be anywhere else? She doesn’t ask that. What would be the point?

"Well, you’re not there, you’re here with me. Can you be here with me?” Elliot tries to put a small amount of authority and assurance in his voice.

"I can try…" She really is trying.

"Okay, that's all I need. Do you want to stand up?” He guides.

“Yes." She shifts slightly so she is sitting more upright at least.

"Okay, can I help you up? Or do you not want to be touched right now.” Elliot always does his best to be respectful this when she’s having a rough day. She feels bad. None of the other guys in her class have to worry about that with their girlfriends. She doesn’t think he should have to either. He says he doesn’t mind.

"No... please... I can do it.” She slowly pushes herself more upright, waiting a moment before fully trying to stand.

"Okay."

She stands up off of the floor. Her tense, tired muscles complain as she do so. She is shaking and her breaths still come in short gasps. Slowly she makes her way up off the floor. Her chest starts to loosen, if only slightly. She moves stiffly across the room to sit on the edge of the bed. She focuses on her breathing.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Breath in. Hold Breathe out.

“Good, Molly. Just breathe.” He coaches, doing his best to breathe with her.

 She focuses on Elliot. He is still standing slightly away from her, having moved back when she drug herself up from the floor.  Keeping a respectful distance, watching her carefully.

"Can I sit next to you?” 

"Yes, but please don't touch me.” She just can’t handle that right now.

"I won't, I promise."

He comes and sits next to her, a slight distance away on the edge of the bed. He carefully places his hands in his lap, keeping them where she can see them. It's only then that she realizes...

"Where's Mer?" She croaks.

"She got a little upset. I think she is with your mom. She’ll be okay. Don’t worry about her right now.”

How could she not worry about upsetting her little sister.

"Shit." 

The last thing she would ever want to do is hurt Meredith. To hurt her little sister, and come hell or high water she is determined she will protect her sister from everything. She tries so hard to keep all of this shit away from Meredith. I have failed. 

"I'm sure she was just worried about you.” His tone conveys his own worry as well.

"A six year old should not have to worry about me. I'm almost a fucking adult and I can't even keep it together for my little sister. What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"There is nothing wrong with you Mol. Something triggered you.” He pauses for a moment before asking:  “Can I ask what it was?"

"That fucking nightgown.” She pauses for a moment then keeps going. The next part seems to spill from her lips, almost without her permission. “It's been six years and I got triggered by a god damn nightgown. Elliot, how am I supposed to go to college… to have anything close to a normal life… if I get triggered by something that little?"

"Hey... It's okay. It's a process.” He doesn’t answer her question.

"A circular one apparently. I feel like I have been getting worse lately.” She doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s not like she can deny it.

“Well, what does Dr. Donovan say?” He’s trying so hard to be helpful. He doesn’t really know what he is doing.

 “Nothing Dr. Donovan suggests has been working. I'm going backward.” She feels like she is admitting defeat.

"That happens sometimes I'm sure. It's a stressful time in life for anyone...." Elliot stops himself. He doesn't want to make things worse. He probably shouldn't finish that statement and he knows it. 

It doesn’t matter. She knows what he is about to say.

"Especially me." She spits.

“Molly-" An apology is already forming on his lips. That isn’t what he meant.

"Don't-"

She stands up and moves slightly away from him. He looks hurt. But why should he be hurt? She’s the broken one.

"I'm gonna get dressed. I'll be down stairs in a second.” It’s an obvious dismissal.

"Okay. I'll go let your mom know you’re okay. She poked her head in a minute ago, but she seemed to think more people in the room was a bad idea so I think she went back downstairs with Mer."

“Kay." Her voice is still sharp.

Elliot leaves the room, looking back once with a concerned glance before he closes the door. 

She should be grateful. 

He's a great guy and he loves me despite all of my shit. But it can be so hard sometimes. No one understands. How could they? And it is so fucking hard to have a relationship like this, but he tries. He really does. 

She draws in a few more breaths, steadying herself some more before standing and getting dressed. 

Once she is dressed she checks her face in the mirror. It's red and tear stained. She runs to the bathroom and splashes some water on her face before heading down to face her mother and Meredith . 

She can cover it with some makeup before she leaves for school.

Her mom looks worried, but she doesn't say anything. She probably doesn't want to scare Meredith any more than she already has been. Meredith sits at the table, still sniffling but obviously trying to hide it.

A fucking six year old should not be hiding her tears for me.

 She tries for a smile. It comes out as a grimace. Elliot comes to her rescue.

"Mol, your mom made pancakes. Chocolate chip."

He passes the plate her mother was holding out. Her family had just accepted him so quickly. She was honestly surprised. She thought they would be more hesitant to the idea of her dating. Probably just glad to see her doing something half way normal for once. And he's been good for her. There’s no denying that. He joins them for breakfast most mornings now. Her mother loves it, loves that there is another person to enjoy her cooking. God that woman loves to cook. Loves that he makes her so happy. She has to admit, it's kinda sweet. 

After breakfast she runs back upstairs to brush her teeth and clean up a bit more. She tries to cover the red streaks across her face with makeup. To make them less obvious. It only kind of works. 

Elliot knocks gently on her door after a few moments. He stayed down stairs to help her mom with the dishes. Her mom used to refuse, but now she doesn’t seem to mind.

"May I?" He gestures into her room, obviously asking if he can come in. She appreciates how gentle he is. And cute. God he is so cute!

"Yeah." She smiles slightly. It’s forced, and his doesn’t seem okay either.

"I'm sorry."

"No, Elliot… I’m sorry. I was rude. It's just really hard right now. I wouldn't blame you if you decided you didn't want to deal with me anymore.”

How could he still want to be with me when I lose my shit like that so fucking often?

"Are you kidding me, I love you. And nothing is going to change that. We will get through this together."

He makes his way into her room and sits down on the edge of her bed while she sits at her vanity putting more makeup on, still trying to hide the lack of sleep and the tears.

"But you shouldn't have to be a part of that. This is my shit to deal with. I don't want to drag someone else through that."

"You aren't dragging me anywhere I don't want to be.” He obviously means it. Molly doesn’t respond.

 “Okay?” He asks. He wants to make sure she knows he is there for her.

"Okay."

What else is she supposed say? He is so sweet, and she has to admit, she does feel safer when he is around. But that doesn't change how guilty she feels every time he witnesses an episode. He is always so kind and gentle. Respectful. 

How is it he always seems to know what to say? Even if he isn’t always clear on space. And dammit he is always there. No one else has ever been there like that.

 More than she deserves at this point. She is not sure she will ever get past this, and he totally doesn't seem to care.

She finishes her makeup and turns to him.

"Well shall we?” She asks.

"Yeah, don't want to be late for school.” 

[monsterlovinghours]

Late Dinner

okay so @sapphic-florals absolutely wrecked me with vampire!dewey feels and i wanted to write a little sequel to their piece even tho they technically beat me to it

-it had been a few months since that first time, that unforgettable night when he revealed to you the truth of his nature, who and what he really was. The two of you had had a very serious discussion about it once you had finally wrapped your head around the whole “vampires are real” thing. He asked you (obviously) to not tell anyone, and you agreed. Then came your flood of questions.

-”How often do you need to drink? Can you fly? Can you turn into a bat? How old are you?”

-Dewey couldn’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, holding up his hands to slow you. “Easy, one question at a time. Ideally, I should be drinking blood a couple times a week, but when you have to raid a blood bank, it becomes more like once every two weeks. When I...y’know…” He gestured to your neck, looking sheepish. “I hadn’t fed for almost a month.” He reclined back, smiling at you. “No, I can’t fly or turn into a bat, and let me tell you, I was fucking pissed when I found that out. Most of what people know about vampires from media is wrong. Y’know, aside from the whole blood thing.” Dewey had adopted a thoughtful look. “As for my age...I lost track a while ago, but I think I’m around eight hundred years old.”

-”Holy shit, really??”

-He grinned. “Nah, I’m just fucking with you. I was turned in 1979 when I was thirty-two.”

-”Huh. You look good for over seventy.”

-Oddly enough, your friendship went back to normal after that, though you never truly forgot that kiss. Every so often, you’d catch him staring at your neck, at the place where his teeth had sunk into you, the place you carefully concealed with makeup, scarves, and high collars. He seemed to have some kind of fascination with it, but whenever he’d realized that you caught him, he’d cough and look away. Sometimes, he’d open his mouth, as if he were about to say something, but he always closed it again. 

-Neither of you mentioned it again, except for once a week or so, you would ask if he’d eaten with a poignant lift to your brow. He would assure you that he had, and satisfied, you’d drop the subject.

-Then, things got crazy again. It was finals week at Horace Green, and with the holidays around the corner, Dewey was running himself ragged putting together the music for the annual holiday concert, not to mention the multiple rehearsals and extra credit hours with his students.

-You were busy as well, staying late to grade papers and make up work. That was where he found you, in your office well into the night. He looked awful, pale and drained, with dark circles under his eyes and something desperate and hungry in his stare.

-He spoke your name, and he sounded so weak, your heart gave a lurch in your chest. “Dew, honey, when was the last time you ate?”

-”...Two months ago. With you.”

-”God,” you whispered, getting up from your desk and pulling him inside, shutting the door and locking it, just to be cautious. “And you don’t have blood bags?” He shook his head, then reached for your hand.

-”I hate to ask but I don’t have anyone else to turn to and I’m getting so hungry, I’m...I’m scared I might…” His voice shook, and you held up your free hand to stop him. 

-”It’s okay, Dewey. You can drink.”

-His expression brightened a touch, with hope and affection for you. “You sure? Even after last time?”

-”I’m sure,” you said with a soft smile. You led him to your desk, clearing a space for you to sit as you guided him to stand between your knees. “You know...I haven’t forgotten that night. The way you looked after you got done playing, so full of life. And...I haven’t forgotten the way you kissed me.” Your hands went to his chest, and a thrill chased through your blood when you heard him shakily inhale. “Why haven’t you tried to kiss me again? You know I’d let you.”

-His hands covered yours, pressing them into his chest before lifting them to his mouth to kiss your fingertips. “I thought you’d want...some space,” he admitted, looking down at where his hands grasped yours rather than at you. “I basically attacked you, and when you woke up you looked so scared, and...I didn’t think you’d want to be that close to me.”

-”Oh, honey.”

-The warmth of his kisses lingered on your fingertips as you slid them over his cheek, cupping the back of his neck and drawing him close. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t want you, Dew. But...I’ve wanted you to kiss me like that for a long time. Well, aside from the bite, but even that wasn’t that bad.” He gave you a soft smile before curling a finger under your chin, tilting your head back at the perfect angle.

-”Is it okay if I kiss you again?”

-”Please,” you breathed, arching your back to press yourself against him, and there wasn’t a single second of hesitation more as his mouth descended on yours. This kiss started soft, as if he wanted to pace himself, but at the first taste of your tongue, he growled and grabbed for your hips, his teeth nipping at your lower lip before tugging at your scarf, baring his mostly healed mark.

-You shivered in his arms as he kissed up the column of your neck, and the moan he dragged from you as he licked over his mark made him shudder in response, one hand pressed to your lower back to push your hips against his. “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he said roughly, his tongue still lapping at your pulse, dragging up to your ear. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

-Your toes curled inside your shoes, the air itself seeming electrified. “Oh God, Dewey, I want this, please-” That was all it took before his fangs sank into your skin again, the pain not nearly as bad as the first time as he pierced your vein and drank greedily from you. He was quick to check on you, mouth stained crimson, his eyes flashing to match, and you shivered with pleasure in his grasp. One nod from you, and he grinned, lowering his mouth to your throat.

-Oh, the euphoria that followed then, the sensual rush of endorphins making you tremble in his arms as he sipped at you. God, he could taste it, could taste your pleasure like a drug, a syrupy sweet venom in your bloodstream. On instinct, his hand slid up inside your shirt, pushing up your bra and finding your nipples hard and aching. “Fuck,” he growled, pulling his teeth from you. “Oh baby, there’s nothing I’d rather do right now than lay you back on your desk and fuck you senseless with your blood on my tongue, but there’s something you need to know first.”

-Your brow furrowed, confused. “What is it, Dew? I want you, please, you make me feel so good-”

-”There’s a reason for that.” His forehead pressed to yours as he sighed, resisting the urge to slide his hand down between your bodies where he could feel your hips rocking restlessly. “Neck bites...they’re a serious thing. They’re not as common as you’ve been led to believe. That’s an incredibly intimate bite, and it...it’s meant to mark the recipient as your lover. It’s meant to bind them to you.” He touched your face, his hand sliding back into your hair. “I shouldn’t have bitten you there, I should have known better, but I was so hungry and you smelled so good, and...I-I’ve had...feelings for you for a while now.” The words spilled out of him in a rush, and it made your heart flutter to see him so flustered in admitting his feelings. “But if we...if I make love to you now, there’s no going back. You’re going to be bound to me. You’re going to want to be near me at all times, it’s...it’s a serious deal.”

-You shook your head, winding your legs around his waist and pulling him flush against you, your breath hitching as you felt yourself rub up against the obvious bulge in his pants. “Dewey, it won’t be any different than it is now. I’ve had feelings for you too, since we started hanging out, I just didn’t want to ruin what we had, and after you kissed me, I kept waiting for you to kiss me again, or mention it, or something, and you didn’t and I thought...I thought it was just the thirst and you didn’t care for me.”

-He laughed, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “God, we’re a mess. One misunderstanding after another.” His hand slipped back under your shirt, this time pulling it up to bare your breasts entirely. “I know this might seem a little out of order, and this probably isn’t the best time to ask but...do you want to go have dinner with me sometime?”

-You smiled, leaning back on your elbow as your other hand slid into his hair, so soft between your fingers. “Isn’t that what we’re doing now?”

-Again, he laughed, kissing down your chest to the swells of your breasts. “An actual dinner, with real food that we both get to eat. Is it a date?” 

-You didn’t get the chance to answer before his tongue began swirling around your nipple, so warm and soft, so you nodded, moaning at the loving, gentle laps. His hunger wasn’t sated yet, but with the edge off, he could slow down a little, appreciate the way you squirmed under his mouth, pushing your breasts up for more. A gleam in his eye, he raked just the barest tips of his fangs over the little bud, grinning when you jolted and squealed. “So sensitive, baby,” he cooed, licking his lips as his thumbs circled your nipples in slow, agonizing tandem. “God, I can’t wait to make you come, you’re gonna look so fucking pretty when you come for me.”

-You hadn’t expected him to talk dirty to you, and you keened, pushing your books and papers onto the floor and wrapping both your arms and legs around him. “God, Dewey, fuck me, please, I c-can’t take it…”

-The growl that left him was inhuman, but it didn’t frighten you; quite the opposite. It was difficult for him to get his belt undone and push his jeans down with you clinging so close, rubbing desperately against him, but he managed. Your skirt pooled up around your hips, your panties were gone in a flash, and when you felt his fingers on your heat, you nearly came undone then and there. 

-At the first touch to your wetness, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he had to grip the desk to keep his knees from buckling underneath him. “God damn, honey, is this just from me biting you? Hm?” His thumb pressed to your clit as he brought himself to your entrance, rubbing in slow, gentle circles. With a groan and a shudder, he slipped inside, his passage eased by your slick. 

-He stopped when he heard you mewl, shooting you a concerned look, but you shook your head, ankles crossed at the small of his back and pressing him closer. “I’m fine, Dew...You just feel so fucking good…”

-His grin was equal parts proud and adoring, his fingers gently grasping your chin as his lips met yours the exact moment he bottomed out inside of you. “Can I move, sweetheart,” he whispered against your mouth, tongue tracing the curve of your lower lip. “Please, fuck, you’re so warm-”

-”For the love of God, Dewey, move.” You both laughed, and his hips began to rock, the drag-push-pull of his length inside of you making you quiver and whine. Your hands locked behind his neck, your head rolling back to put your mark, freshly weeping in the shape of his teeth, on display. Dewey groaned at the sight, running his tongue over the bite to lick up the last traces of your blood.

-As soon as he tasted you again, that gentle pace quickly became frantic, his fingers sinking into your hips as he slammed up into you with bruising force; you would definitely need some help walking out of here. You welcomed it, your body on fire with a need for him, your blood like kerosene. Your lips found his ear, moaned out his name as you wrapped your body around him.

-It didn’t take long for you to reach that peak, especially with the insistent rubbing of his thumb at your clit. With your hands curled in his hair, you whimpered, “D-Dew, I’m...I’m gonna…”

-”Come for me,” he murmured back, his breath shaking, his tone pitched low in feverish need. “Come for me, baby; give it all to me, show me you’re mine…”

-Who were you to disobey?

-You came hard, burying your face in his shoulder, the knit of his sweater muffling your screams. His pace never slowed, surging forward and pressing against your shoulder to lay you back on the desk, watching your breasts bounce as he fucked up into you.

-”Again,” he growled, his eyes flashing red. “Again. Give me more.”

-Three fingers covered your clit and rubbed hard, the head of his cock brushing your sweet spot with every thrust, and you were once more overwhelmed, the intensity of a second shattering orgasm bringing tears to your eyes. He whimpered, clutching at you, torn between chasing his own release or forcing yours from you again. In the end, he had no choice but to obey the whims of his body, and with a whine of your name, he came deep inside of you, grasping at your breast and hunching over you, like a predator with a fresh kill. 

-It seemed to last forever, but finally, he collapsed on his elbows, pressing his hand to your cheek and covering your face with soft little raindrop kisses. “Hey baby, you okay? Still with me?”

-You gave him a smile, your head swimming with satisfied bliss and joy. “Still here,” you murmured. “The answer is yes, by the way.”

-”Huh?”

-”To the date. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

-He laughed, bringing his lips to yours in a kiss so sweet it made your stomach flutter. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For everything. This...this means more to me than I can tell you.” With a sigh and a bite of his lip, he pulled out of you, the warm rush of your combined fluids coating your thighs. 

-”Feels like you made a mess of me down there, Dew.” You grinned, sitting up on your elbows as he pulled back. His eyes lifted to you, and something flashed in them for a moment. 

-”Mm...guess I should clean you up, then. Don’t suppose you’d mind if I finished my dinner down here, would you?” With that, he fell to his knees between your spread, trembling thighs, and licked a broad, warm stripe over your core. 

-You whined, jolting as his tongue plunged into you to seek out your clit, still over-sensitive from the mind-blowing orgasms. “Dew...oh fuck, please…”

-“You got one more for me, baby, I know you do. Come for me one last time.” His mouth was soft, beckoning, and you were helpless to deny your body its final release, your hips bucking up into his mouth as he sucked at your clit. Just as your pleasure began to fade, his mouth left your sex to sink his teeth into your inner thigh, drawing a yelp from you. Dewey groaned deep, scarlet-tinted eyes rolling back in his head as he drank. A few mouthfuls more, and he was sated for now, licking the fresh wound to stop the bleeding. 

-””You have no idea how good you taste when you’re coming,” he growled. “Your pleasure makes you taste so sweet. A guy could get addicted…”

-A groan left you, your body weak. “Oh fuck, Dew, you’re going to kill me.”

He kissed his way up your stomach, between your breasts, and up your neck, ending at your mouth. “Never, baby,” he assured you. “Never. You’re safe with me, cross my heart and hope to die...again.”

[whumphoarder]

Them’s the Breaks

Summary: Peter is home alone and ends up breaking his ankle. Figuring his super healing will fix it overnight, he doesn’t tell anyone and tries to sleep it off, only to wake up in the middle of the night in agony. Cue Tony, saving his ass yet again.

(Alternative title: Super Healing is Not All it’s Cracked Up To Be Tibia)

Word count: 3,174

Genre: Whump, hurt/comfort, fluffy angst

A/N: Thanks to @sallyidss for beta reading!

Link to read on Ao3

Prior to being bitten by a radioactive spider, Peter had broken exactly one bone in his life.

He was eleven. Someone dared him to do a flip on a trampoline at a classmate’s birthday party. The flip itself was mediocre, but the landing was legendary. Blood streamed down Peter’s face from his now crooked, throbbing nose, ruining both his brand new stormtrooper t-shirt and the horrified birthday girl’s pink dress.

Ned—ever the sympathetic friend—had puked on the spot, which hadn’t done wonders for either of their middle school social statuses.

Peter managed to hold it together pretty well for the twenty minutes it had taken Ben to arrive, but the second the car door was shut and they pulled out of the driveway, the façade crumbled. Peter’s shoulders shook and tears ran down his cheeks, stinging his nose, because, as it turned out, broken bones just really hurt. Almost as much as Peter’s pride.

But Ben was there, and Ben always knew how to make Peter feel better. He cracked jokes about his nephew’s failing gymnastics career and tossed wadded up Burger King napkins at the kid’s messy face all the way to urgent care until Peter’s choked sobs turned to quiet giggles.

The doctor reset Peter’s nose and May fussed over him all weekend, making sure he was icing it appropriately. Three weeks later, he was back to normal.

But that was before the bite—before Peter had taken the unofficial job of crime-fighting teenage vigilante.

He’s up to eight bones now, lifetime total. Besides the nose, there were four ribs last summer (for the record, being thrown into brick walls really sucks), his collarbone back in January (missed a web and crashed onto the roof of a parking garage), and two fingers just before spring break (got stomped on by some dude gallivanting about in a rhino costume, what even is his life?). Luckily, super healing came as part of the package, so what had taken Peter’s sixth grade body weeks to repair, he now accomplishes in mere hours.

Today, however, it’s not Spider-Man who injures himself. It’s just Peter Parker, fresh off an evening patrol, wiping out in the goddamn shower.

“Oh shit!” Peter gasps sharply as his feet slide out from under him on the wet surface. His hand flies out on reflex and grasps the shower curtain, which he pulls down on top of him. As he slams onto the floor of the tub, his ankle rolls sideways underneath him. A split-second later, the metal curtain rod hits him in the face.

“...Rude…” he groans.

Water is still streaming down from the shower, splashing onto the sheet of vinyl now covering Peter’s body. He pulls the curtain off himself with another groan and gingerly pushes himself up to sitting. Half-blind from the shampoo running into his eyes, he reaches up over his head and fumbles for the shower handle. The water stops.

Peter makes to stand, but a sudden jolt of pain just above his ankle stops him. With a grunt, he lets himself fall back against the tub, teeth clenched.

Oh yeah, he’s never gonna live this one down.

It’s not his most graceful moment, but somehow Peter manages to extricate himself from the tub. Thankfully May is out of town this weekend so no one is around to hear the crashes and muffled curses issuing from the bathroom. He quickly dries off and pulls on some clean sweat pants and a t-shirt before hopping on his left leg to retrieve a bag of frozen peas from the kitchen. Once back in his bedroom, he carefully props the already-swelling ankle up on pillows and rests his makeshift ice pack on top.

It’s times like these when Peter curses his mutated spider metabolism for burning through normal painkillers so fast that Tylenol and ibuprofen are about as effective as Skittles. Tony has better drugs at the compound—the kind that actually work on him—but Peter isn’t too keen on explaining to his mentor how someone who’d stopped a runaway car with his bare hands and walked away without a scratch a few hours ago was no match for his own bathroom.

Plus, it’s really not that bad. He can deal. He’ll just sleep it off and everything will be fine by the morning.

X

Peter wakes to nauseating pain.

It takes him a moment to orient himself. He’s lying on his bed in a tangle of covers, a deep, pulsing ache radiating from his right ankle. He flaps his hand around under his pillow until he locates his phone and lifts it to his face to check the time. It’s 1:13 a.m.

God, this sucks.

When Peter pushes himself up to sitting, he can’t help but let out a muffled cry as a fresh wave of agony shoots through his leg all the way to the hip. It’s healing—he swears he can actually feel the bone knitting itself back together under his skin—but something about it feels different. Wrong.

Flipping on the bedside lamp, he pulls his covers off his aching foot and instantly gasps at the sight. It’s purple with bruises and swollen to double its usual size. On the side, right where the ache is deepest, the bone is jutting out at a weird angle and his stomach rolls at the sight. When he tries to move his foot slightly, searing pain nearly makes him lose his dinner.

This isn’t right. None of his past breaks have ever hurt this much. He can’t do this anymore—he needs help.

Fingers trembling, he types out his message: Mr. Stark? Are you awake?

It’s about thirty seconds before Peter sees the three dots indicating that Tony is typing: Haven’t slept since the 90s, kid. Why?

Peter steels himself with a deep breath as another pulse of pain stabs his ankle. He types out and backspaces a few different variations of his confession, ranging from ‘I fucked up my ankle and it’s killing me pls send help’ to ‘Nothing, just couldn’t sleep, sorry’ before finally settling on a vague version of the truth:

I might have done something dumb

Within five seconds of sending the text, Peter’s phone starts ringing, startling him. His fingers fumble to accept the call. When he speaks, his voice comes out more like a squeak than anything else. “Yeah?”

Tony cuts right to the chase. “How dumb are we talking here?” he asks briskly. “Because my lawyers generally appreciate a heads up.”

“No, it’s not that kind of dumb,” Peter manages to grit out through the pain. “It’s um… it’s just…” he trails off, not sure quite how to word this.

“It’s one in the morning. Just spit it out,” Tony prompts.

Tears are pricking at the corners of Peter’s eyes now, the ache somehow finding a way to become even deeper. “I-I got hurt,” he manages to say.

Tony’s tone instantly sobers. “Where? How bad?”

“No no, it’s not that bad,” Peter says quickly. “I just messed up my ankle or something. I thought I could just sleep it off and my healing would fix it, but it’s like”—he takes a shuddery inhale—“It just… it just really hurts, Mr. Stark.” He wants to cry; he feels absolutely pathetic.

Tony curses under his breath and Peter hears a lot of movement from the other end of the line. “Why didn’t I get any alerts from Karen on this?” he demands. “Because I put all those safety features in your suit for a reason and if I find out you coerced that Ned buddy of yours into disabling yet another layer of security, I swear to god, Pete—”

“I didn’t, I promise,” Peter interrupts. “Karen doesn’t know because it didn’t happen on patrol.”

“How did it happen then?”

“I just… kinda fell?”

“You fell?” Tony questions, confusion in his voice. “Fell where?”

Peter’s face flushes. “You know what, I-I’ll be okay,” he says. “I’m sorry to bother you, it’ll be fine in the morning, just—” Another pulse of pain shoots daggers up his right leg and his breath hitches.

“I’m already on my way,” Tony says, and Peter can hear the sound of wind rushing over the line now. “ETA, thirteen minutes.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to come out here!” Peter protests. “I just need some of those painkillers that you and Dr. Banner made. I dunno, maybe you could just send a couple over in one of your suits...?”

“Cute,” Tony remarks. “It’s adorable how you think I’m gonna let a fifteen-year-old dose out a drug strong enough to knock the Winter Soldier on his ass.”

“I’m sixteen now,” Peter argues. “Sixteen and a half, actually.”

“Equally adorable how you think stating your age in fractions helps your case,” Tony quips. “Listen, just hold tight, kid—I’ll be there soon.”

Peter sighs as the call disconnects.

X

Eleven minutes later, Tony arrives at the apartment and lets himself in with the spare key May had given him when it became apparent Peter's internship was more than just a run-of-the-mill semester-long program. He pauses in the doorway of Peter’s messy room to gaze at the miserable teenager sprawled out on the bed.

“Jesus, kid,” Tony swears quietly.

Peter gives a small wave. “Hey,” he mumbles. The nausea is back and he’s sweating slightly now. “Did you bring the drugs?”

“I did,” Tony says, his gaze narrowing as he steps closer to the bed, “but given that your ankle is currently resembling Violet Beauregarde’s, you’re not getting any until FRIDAY does her thing.”

Peter huffs, but he’s in too much pain to come up with anything witty to say. He holds still as Tony taps twice at the nanotech armor’s housing unit on his chest. A light appears and quickly scans over Peter’s body from head to toe.

After a moment, the light disappears again. “Scan complete, boss,” FRIDAY reports. “Partially healed misaligned fracture detected in the lower right tibia.”

“I broke my leg?” Peter balks. “I thought it was the ankle?”

“Your ankle is made up of three bones,” Tony explains. He pulls out his phone and starts typing something as he goes on. “Tibia, fibula…”—he pauses and glances up, frowning—“and that one that doesn’t rhyme.”

“The talus, boss,” FRIDAY supplies.

Diverting his attention back to the phone screen, Tony gives a short nod of acknowledgment. “Yeah, that one.”

“Oh.” Peter glances down awkwardly. “Um, I’m gonna take anatomy next semester.”

Tony hums absently. He finishes tapping out whatever message he’s been sending and pockets the device again. “In the meantime, I’m sure Bruce can tell you more fun bone facts when we get to Medbay.”

“Whoa, wait, what do you mean Medbay?” Peter demands, a fresh wave of panic and guilt crashing over him. “All I need is some meds so I can sleep through the worst of it and I’ll be fine,” he insists.

Tony huffs. “Your knowledge of anatomy might be lacking, but last time I checked you were getting an A in English so you should know that ‘misaligned’ isn’t a word you want connected to ‘fracture’. It’s healing wrong. You need x-rays. And a real doctor.”

With a groan, Peter drapes his arm dramatically over his face. “Great. Even my super healing is against me.”

“Not to mention you still haven’t told me how you fell,” Tony continues with a pointed look, “so if you’re trying to hide some other injury, or a vertigo thing, or—”

“I’m not,” Peter mumbles into the crook of his elbow. With a sigh, he lowers the arm from his face and looks miserably up at his mentor. “I just slipped in the stupid shower.”

To Tony’s credit, he doesn’t laugh.

(Even though his lips do twitch.)

Instead, he steps out of the bedroom and returns a moment later with a cup of water, which he hands to the kid along with two of the super strength painkillers from the orange pill bottle in his pocket. Peter downs them gratefully.

“Your aunt’s got her car here, right?” Tony checks.

Peter nods. “She took an Uber to the airport. Won’t be back until late Sunday. Conference for work.”

“Think she’d mind if we use it as a makeshift ambulance?”

Peter just shrugs.

“Alright then.” Tony presses the housing unit again and this time the armor encases his whole body. “Now I’m gonna pick you up and carry you down to the parking lot, and you’re not gonna make a big deal about it. Capisce?”

Peter suppresses a groan of embarrassment as he’s gathered carefully into Tony’s arms. Maybe next time he wipes out in the shower, he’ll get lucky and just drown.

X

The painkillers are strong and Peter ends up sleeping through most of the two-hour drive back to the compound. By the time they pull into the parking garage—May’s little dented Ford Focus looking positively ridiculous next to Tony’s array of expensive sports cars—it’s nearly four in the morning.

Bruce is waiting for them with a wheelchair, which Peter instantly balks at using.

“I don’t need that—I can totally walk,” he protests.

Bruce gives him a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, that’s not a good idea. Judging by the scans FRIDAY sent ahead for me, your bone rotated as it healed—that’s why it looks so deformed right now. Walking on it is only going to cause further problems.”

“You heard the man,” Tony says, gesturing to the chair. He smirks. “Unless you'd prefer me to get the suit on again.”

With a groan, Peter transfers himself into the chair. His ankle really does feel better now. The swelling is down and the pain only flares up when he jostles it too much—he can tell the bone has mostly knit itself back together.

Once back in Medbay, they’re joined by another doctor—someone from SHIELD called Helen Cho who Peter has never met before. She does some x-rays and an MRI while Peter half-dozes, still foggy from the medication.

When the scans are complete, he’s transferred back to a hospital bed while the two doctors talk over the results with him and Tony. Peter tries to pay attention but he’s still groggy and exhausted, so the medical jargon sounds more like irritating droning than actual words. Then all of a sudden, the three of them start throwing around words like ‘rebreaking’ and ‘inserting pins’ and ‘realignment surgery’ and Peter snaps right out of his haze.

“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean surgery?” Peter demands. “It’s fine, oh my god.”

Dr. Cho gives him a half-smile. “Look here, Peter.” She holds up the x-ray and points to the bulge on the side of Peter’s ankle. “This malunion is going to significantly reduce your mobility, as well as potentially cause chronic pain. Given your”—she pauses for a moment—“unusually active lifestyle, I would highly suggest surgical correction sooner rather than later.”

And that’s how, several hours later, Peter finds himself lying on a bed in a pre-op room at SHIELD Medical, waiting for some surgeons to take a bone-saw to his freshly healed right leg.

“How you feeling, kiddo?” Tony asks, plopping himself down in an armchair beside the bed.

“Really stupid,” Peter answers honestly. He gazes down at the deformed bones in his ankle. “All this from falling in the shower.”

Tony huffs out a laugh. “Eh, this shit happens. One time in college, I threw my back out during a ping-pong match with Rhodey.”

Peter’s eyes widen. “Seriously?”

Tony nods. “Bodies are dumb. Even enhanced ones—did you know Steve once sneezed so hard he dislocated a rib?”

Peter gives him a skeptical look. “Now you’re joking.”

“Cross my heart,” Tony chuckles. “Then Thor clapped him on the back and popped it back in.”

Peter opens his mouth to express his disbelief at this information, but before he can do so, a nurse dressed in light blue scrubs comes in to take him to the OR. A fresh wave of anxiety comes over Peter and he shoots his mentor a pleading look.

“You’re really sure this is necessary?” Peter tries one last time.

Tony gives his shoulder a squeeze. “You’ll be fine,” he assures. “As soon as you’re healed up, I’ll teach you some sweet ping-pong moves.”

Peter smirks. “Maybe I should get Rhodey to show me so I don’t throw out my back.”

“Nah, you don’t want him either,” Tony says, waving his hand dismissively. “I might have thrown out my back, but he ended up with a concussion.”

Peter blinks at him. “What kind of ping-pong games did you play?”

Tony locks eyes with him. “Ball is life, kid.”

X

The surgery itself goes as well as can be expected. Peter wakes up groggy and disoriented, with three new metal pins inside his ankle and a bright red cast around the outside. Bruce feeds him ice chips, and Tony video calls May from his Starkpad so she can fuss over her nephew a bit from Denver. Peter silently marvels at how this ridiculous life he leads has somehow brought him to the point where Iron Man and the Hulk are functioning as his postoperative caretakers.

Then his thoughts are derailed when he suddenly throws up bile all over the bedsheets and Tony’s tablet.

“It’s okay, Peter,” Bruce assures the thoroughly humiliated boy—who is now clutching a pink plastic basin to his chest as if his life depends on it—as he helps the nurse to strip the bed. “Nausea is a really common side effect of the anesthesia, and especially considering how much you had to be under for your metabolism, this is to be expected.”

Standing off to the side, wiping the tablet down with disposable disinfectant wipes, Tony huffs. “I mean if you knew that, Bruce, you could have warned me…”

Whether the antiemetics the doctors give Peter do their job or simply knock him out through the worst of the nausea, Peter will never know. But when he wakes again a few hours later, life is significantly better.

X

He’s released from Medical the next morning and Tony brings him back to the compound to finish recovering in his own room. The cast comes off Sunday morning and Peter’s good as new.

Late Sunday afternoon, Tony drops Peter back off at his apartment—Happy tailing along behind in a much shinier, undented, and heavily upgraded Ford Focus—and thanks May for loaning him her vehicle before asking permission to use their restroom.

Emerging from the bathroom a few minutes later, Tony ruffles Peter’s hair and tells the kid to take it easy before driving off again.

When Peter goes to take a shower later that night, he finds the floor of the tub covered in adhesive non-slip rubber duck decals.

(Yeah, Peter’s never gonna live this one down.)

X

Fic Masterlist

For more Tony helping Peter out sticky of situations, try:

 You Broke Tony 

 The Five Times Peter Denies an Illness or Injury + the One Time He Doesn’t

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.70

Keith gave up trying to keep up. First Lance up. Then he was down. Then he was getting angry and upset on Keith’s behalf. Then he was pacing. And now he was crying again as they sat in Lance’s Bronco. They hadn’t even left the VOLTRON staff parking area before Lance was apologising about “his ego” and “wanting to punch people in the dick”. He’s thought taking his boyfriend for a walk would calm him down enough that he’d realise he needed to take things easy. But no. He hadn’t even gotten that far. Sitting in Lance’s car, Keith had his arms full of his crying boyfriend. Lance hadn’t had enough blood as far as Keith was concerned, now that he stopped to think about it. Keith’s blood during his heat had made his boyfriend super horny, and a bit egotistical, which Lance wasn’t right now. Now he stopped to think about it, he was sure he was right when he’d been worried Lance was pushing himself. All Lance’s “extraness” was coming from him being determined to find something before Krolia and the werewolves arrived. He was hyped up on emotion, not blood. What he needed was to rest, not go investigating crime scenes.

Keith wasn’t great at admitting he wasn’t good at resting when he needed to. He felt like resting would only cost people their lives. He had to work harder and be better. He had to be there all the time and be hands on. Being with Lance showed him how much pressure that had been on his shoulders. He wasn’t saying Lance couldn’t shoulder helping, he was saying he couldn’t shoulder helping on the back of yesterday and him being overly emotional that morning. He’d made the mistake he’d nearly made the day before. He’d let Lance rush, when he wasn’t ready to. He should have pulled Lance into his lap instead of letting him pace. He should have pulled Lance out of his head instead of sitting there between Shiro and Curtis.

“Babe. I’m going to say something and I don’t want you to get mad”

Lance sniffled

“Okay?”

“I think you’re still emotionally exhausted”

“I’m okay...”

They’d spent so much one together Lance was sounding like him

“You’re not... and I think I worked it out. I think the blood was okay, but you’re not”

“I’m fine... I had too much blood”

“You didn’t though. I think maybe... you did a me. Said you were, then tried too hard to be”

Lance shook his head

“I’m okay... I’m okay”

“I think you ego wants to protect me... I think you maybe feel that you want to solve this really badly because you don’t want them to have anything against us when they get here”

Lance sniffled, bringing a hand up to rub at his face

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“I think so”

As they say “Take’s one to know one”. One of Pidge’s favourite lines when Matt accused her of cheating

“Sometimes I get too focused... I’ve seen Coran for it before. I think maybe... maybe I was looking for something I could throw myself into... especially if I could be some help to you”

“A wise man once told me I can’t be a superhero”

“I feel like a super zero. It’s hard when you can’t forget things”

“You’re not a “SuperZero”. Do you regret not taking that pill?”

Lance shook his head

“I believe you. That’s what Rieva was talking to me about. I didn’t think about how it’d be to be a werewolf in heat and deal afterwards with not falling pregnant. It kind of makes me feel lame for worrying over a broken condom”

That subject was still tender, he wasn’t ready for prodding there

“Does that make me the same for still trying to process it?”

Lance shook his head again

“No. No. No, it doesn’t”

“Then your not lame either. We’ve blown off two briefings now. Do we call it a day?”

“Can we go for a drive instead? Get out of this place and breathe?”

Keith could drive. He’d done enough talking. Taking his bike would have really gotten his mind off things, but Kosmo was too wiggly for a bike ride

“You’ll have to give me directions”

“I can do that”

Lance leaned in and kissed him. Keith happy to kiss him back. One near miss wasn’t going to get between them.

*

Lance directed Keith to the park where the bodies were found without thinking about it. It was a nice place. Plenty of grass and open space. Not the kind of space you’d expect to see two dead bodies, not with all the people there today. Kids played in the playground, parents sipping coffees as they played on their phones instead of watching their kids

“Babe, what are we doing here?”

“I guess I was thinking about this place. I didn’t mean to end up here”

Keith sighed at him. Lance didn’t blame him. They agreed he was trying to overcompensate for the lack of control in his life and his perceived uselessness. Though Lance couldn’t help it. Every time he thought of Keith being bullied by those wanker wolves, he got mad. Keith was mad too, but he’d let himself feel like he wasn’t worth people’s love or time. Lance loathed it. They’d spent so long talking, learning, and growing together, that sometimes they didn’t know how to follow through after letting themselves be vulnerable. Focusing on the reports meant helping Keith and moving forward. Focusing on reports meant he might be able to help Keith when the crucial time came, or at least show him he really did have his back, despite how much of unlikely pair they made.

Staring across the park through the windshield, Keith sighed as he turned to look at him

“We were supposed to be taking a moment”

“I know. I can’t help it. I miss Garrison, and the open air. Besides, it’s not like the park itself is bad. I don’t see a gaggle of lurking vampires or a scurry of werewolves. We can take Kosmo for a walk and he can do his doggy business. I’ve got plastic bags in the back. And I’ve got my jacket on, so it won’t be too bad out there”

“Babe. It’s not the weather I’m worried about. Krolia is full on. James has no time for anyone he thinks under him. We can’t walk out of briefings with them”

“I know... I mean, I don’t know. I guess I’m assuming. The park was on my mind, but I wasn’t thinking of coming here to work. I just needed air. We won’t even poke around, because that’s not what we’re here to do. Look at the grass. Look how uniform it is. I wonder what kind of lawnmower they use”

Keith raised an eyebrow

“Did you just... Your old man is showing. No one cares about how smooth the grass is”

“I do... my poor garden’s probably half bloody dead. The damn dandelions are probably having a picnic knowing I’m not there to rip the little bastards out”

“I still don’t think I understand what made you come back so fast”

“Rieva did. Honerva’s gone mad. Human experiments. Blood lust. Maids and tourists that go missing. Dead werewolves and vamps. Honerva’s barely... she’s not sane and she’s fae. Lotor’s her son. If he’s here, she’s sent people to retrieve him. People like Sendak. People like Sendak don’t have morals. That’s what Rieva is scared of. Killing us would be like swatting a fly. Lotor painted targets on all of us by showing up. Take into fact that you and Shiro are hunters and you’ll be drugged and off to Europe to be pets between bouts of experimentation. That’s the general gist. They’ve got so much power that they don’t care about the Blades or VOLTRON. They’d easily crush both groups without thinking about it. Between you and me, I think maybe they had something to do with Rieva’s parents being killed. She knows a lot about European wolf culture and even the big bad wolves there avoid Zarkon and Honerva’s territories”

Keith leaned back to rest against the seat

“They don’t teach us about them. They teach us history to a certain point, but it’s not until we’re heading out that we get a full briefing. It’s supposed to be in case someone turns traitor or something like that. Maybe I was too low on the totem pole to know? Krolia would know”

“Yeah, well, we’ve got Rieva. She was raised by werewolves. We’ve got Matt who can hack just as good as Pidge. Coran can use his fae magic to subdue wolves. And you’ve got me...”

Keith reached out, tucking a strand of stray hair back behind Lance’s ear

“Babe, you’re getting worked up again”

Lance couldn’t help it. What good were the Blades if they didn’t share intelligence on targets? No. Fuck. He was stressing Keith out. Keith had been brave opening up to him. He’d wanted to act as normal as possible to show Keith that what he’d told him didn’t change how he felt for him.

“I’m sorry. Maybe you should find another stick, and smack me with it when I’m doing it again?”

“I didn’t know you were into spanking”

Keith gave him a crooked smile, acting like he wasn’t being a tease. Keith could spank him and he’d probably beg for more

“Maybe? Maybe not? Maybe I just wanna be smacked like a piñata? Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out after we’ve taken a walk and taken in the sun. It’s good a source of Vitamin D-grump”

“I’m not grumpy”

“You’re not happy either”

“I’m getting there. I don’t want you pushing it on your walk. You need rest”

Just like that, Keith had him thinking about the broken condom again. This was why he shouldn’t be resting. He could wallow in his room, but he’d rather wallow on his sofa with his wine. He might as well be a wheel of Swiss cheese for all the whining he’d been doing... But if he was Swiss Cheese, he might earn himself a bit of God’s love with how holey he’d be

“I’ll tell you if a need a break. And you’ll tell me if you need one. I can’t wait until Kosmo is big enough to teach him how to play fetch”

Kosmo was trying to eat Lance’s shoes because they were taking so long

“Okay. Let’s head out”

*

Keith wished he’d had more than his phone camera as Lance played with Kosmo. His boyfriend would jog a few steps ahead and Kosmo would go bounding along after him. There were other people in the park, Keith kind of wishing he’d thought to arm himself before they went out, but it was a much needed moment of normality. Lance laughing and scooping up Kosmo when he chased him. He didn’t feel like a hunter, other than the fact he couldn’t stop scanning the park every so often for potential threats. He felt like he’d felt back in Garrison with Lance. He’d had so much time there to think and be with Lance. Now they were here as two boyfriends taking their fur son for a walk with the sun sitting low in the horizon.

Keith’s idea of Lance taking it slowly wasn’t having his boyfriend jogging, but Lance was so happy with Kosmo and had promised to take it easy. Jogging was probably as much exercise as a brisk walk for a vampire, plus being behind Lance and Kosmo meant he was able to take lots of photos of the pair of them

“Keith, look how cute he is”

Kosmo was nipping at Lance’s fingers, Lance having stopped meant he caught up to both of them

“He is. He is the precious fur son”

“Having a dog is great. But don’t tell Blue I said that. We should bring her. She’s really good on a lead”

Reaching out, Keith ruffled Lance’s hair

“Yeah. We’ll have to head back soon, we shouldn’t be here after sunset”

“Awww, but look at his face. 10. No. 15 more minutes. Please”

Lance raised Kosmo up, pulling “puppy dog eyes” and a pout as he did. Keith was weak

“15 minutes. That goes for both of you”

“Yay! We should totally take some photos too”

Keith drew his brow

“Haven’t you noticed I have been?”

“But they’re all of me and Kosmo. Not me, you, and Kosmo. I won’t forget today, but they’re precious memories for you too”

Keith was a push over as he set a timer on his phone. The next 15 minutes spent taking selfies with Lance and Kosmo. He wasn’t terribly photogenic, and didn’t like the way he looked in most of them, but He couldn’t erase them. Not with the way Lance was looking at him in them. He was looking at Keith like Keith was the only person in existence... and it felt good. He’d lived to survive, now it felt like maybe he was living and not just alive. Lance kissed his cheek, Keith blushed as he hit the button on his phone, just before the timer went off

“I guess that’s it?”

Lance sounded disappointed

“Yeah. We have to head back, but we should do this more often”

Nosing into Keith’s cheek, Lance kissed him again

“I’d really like that”

“Me too. This was nice”

“Yeah. Next time you should try having Kosmo chase you. He looks so happy running around”

“You looked pretty happy too”

“I am. I feel so much better now. I know we vampires are supposed to live in coffins and hate the sun, but I like the outdoors”

“Have you ever been hiking?”

“Years ago. We both know how I feel about unnecessary physical exercise”

“We should go. It’s hard work, but it’s worth it at the end”

“Fiiiiine. But if I let you find a trail, can you promise you’ll go easy on me?”

Lance didn’t need him to go easy on him. He could out walk Keith any day

“No way. You have the advantage”

Lance blew a raspberry on his cheek, before darting away from him

“Be nice to your elders”

Keith wiped at his cheek, nose wrinkled

“You’re fucking gross”

Lance laughed, setting Kosmo down. The puppy bounding over to Keith happily

“You brought it on yourself”

Picking up Kosmo’s lead, Keith huffed

“I’m going to find a stick and stake your undead arse!”

“Babe, you don’t need a stick for that. Hey, tripped over a branch lately? How about a root?”

Groaning at his boyfriend, Keith buried his face in his hands

“Baaaabe. No. That’s terrible”

Lance came back to his side, slinging his arm over Keith’s shoulders

“Why is sex in tents always great? Because it’s fucking in-tents. Pidge made me learn a bunch of pick up lines because she worried I was going to die alone”

“Lance, you don’t need to lie to me. You knew pick-up lines before Pidge, didn’t you?”

Lance sighed dramatically, leaning heavily against him

“Yeah, but I never used them. I mean, the only guy I would pick up, I can literally throw over my shoulder at any time”

“And now I can never show my face in that pub again... You’re lucky your cute”

Lance eased back, smiling as he did

“You’re the only one who’d say that”

Good. He didn’t want to share

“Hey, babe. Go ahead and feel my shirt. It’s boyfriend material”

Lance snorted with laughter, Keith a little embarrassed, but happier that his boyfriend was happy. Today had been salvaged and now he just wanted to go back to Lance’s room and ignore work.

[humanmoodring-retired]

Two Truths and Another Truth || Nadia and Skylar

Edit: Never edit things in mobile 

Skylar and Nadia (if that’s really her name it’s a little up in the air at the moment) are both totally, completely, and absolutely findjalfjal;

@theskyeandsea

Nadia, if that was really her name, paced in her living room as she tried to figure out what was going on. The name thing was that big of a deal. Okay, it was actually a big deal, but she thought it’d get sorted fairly easily. Maybe. She occasionally looked down at her phone, then looked away from it. No, the thing she was most worried about was the lying curse. Because she didn’t realize how much she lied in a fucking day until she couldn’t. And now she just wanted to word vomit everything out, her fears, her insecurities, the fact that she hasn’t been fine in the twenty-seven years that she’s been alive. There’s only so much you could avoid before people got worried. Now she was without a crutch, and she felt like she was going to fall. There was a knock at the door, causing Rhiannon to raise her head from where she was dozing on the couch. Striding over to the door, she opened the door. “Hey, Skylar,” she said, a tired smile on her face.

Before she’d left her apartment, Skylar had double and triple checked that her seal skin was kept hidden in the back of her closet, as tucked away as she could get it. But, after spending most of the day with it next to her, she felt… more on edge, more worn out, more tired. Even though she’d only just changed yesterday. It couldn’t have been a side effect, of turning, could it? Shaking her head as she walked up to the door, she let out a small sigh. Nope, she wasn’t going to think about that right now. She was going to talk to Nadia, meet her new kitten, and see if she could help her out with this magical… garbage situation. When the door swung open, Skylar smiled as brightly as she could muster. “Hi. I’d ask if you’re doing okay, but I kinda get the feeling that might… be a lot. So, um, thanks for having me.” She said as she stepped inside. Glancing over at the couch, she saw the fuzzy grey kitten sleeping on the edge and she smiled. “That’s your new little roommate, hm? Rhiannon, right?” She asked, hoping she’d pronounced it right. The name was a little awkward on her tongue.

Not Nadia could see that Skylar probably felt as bad as she did, even if she did try to put on a bright smile. But Skylar looked absolutely exhausted, and she couldn’t say that she wasn’t tired, but she was used to it. Or, as used to it as a person could get. Still, she laughed a bit as she let Skylar in. “If you asked if I was okay, I’d feel inclined to answer, I think. It’s harder to, like, reign in my thoughts and words in person. I can’t lie, and I don’t have a name, so it’s a gr- weird day.” She frowns as the word catches in her throat. “But I’m glad you came over.” She watches Rhiannon wake up a bit and look from her to Skylar. Hoping to communicate “DON’T BITE” telepathically, she smiled as Skylar said her name. “That’s her. Rhiannon. Little Shit. Asshole. All are names that suit her.”

“You can’t lie? Like… not even a little white lie?” Skylar asked, her eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. She’d never heard of anything like that happening before. Granted, she didn’t know hardly anything about any of this, but when Winston had been all… ‘Not-Winston’ she didn’t think they had been unable to lie. “I’m really sorry, that sounds like an awful time. But, um, maybe I can help? Or at least, try to?” She offered. All Winston had told her was not to make any promises to Regan and that, while she wasn’t malicious, she should be careful around her. Glancing down at the kitten, she hesitated before reaching out with timid fingers to let Rhiannon smell her. That was how you were supposed to approach animals, right? “Aw. She seems really cute, but I’ll take your word on her being a handful.” She said with a nod. 

“I can’t lie, no,” Not Nadia said. “Not at all. I think I’ve been cursed, but I also could’ve been, like, drugged or truth serumed or who knows, really?” She rubbed at her arms a bit. She couldn’t really think about what she’d done in the past twenty-four hours (and it had to have been pretty fucking recent, given how much she’s noticed about not being able to lie) that would cause something like this to happen. She’d been to the beach, to the library, to the grocery store, and then back home. Not too much people interaction during that time, but she just didn’t know. “It’s not… Awful is a word that I’d probably use, yeah, but I’m,” she cut herself off, took a sharp breath, “alive. Always good to be alive. But, yeah, any help is better than no help. I think… I know what caused it. I’m just waiting, you know. For it to get fixed.” And it should. It should. She watched Rhiannon carefully as she sniffed Skylar’s fingers, waiting for the kitten to get up to something nefarious. Instead, all Rhiannon did was like Skylar’s fingers. And keep licking them. She frowned. “She’s pretty cute. Uh, if she bothers you, just let me know and I’ll put her in my room. But how are you? Seriously, this name business isn’t, like, the most pressing matter in my life, How’s… Are you good? Are you, you know, feeling all right?”

“Cursed..?” Skylar echoed, trying to make sense of that statement. How could Nadia be cursed? Was this like another part of the Fae magic thing? Or was it something else? Watching her body language, she listened intently to Nadia’s words. “What do you think caused it? And erm, do you mean the not lying thing or the no-name thing? Or were they both caused by the same thing?” She asked, a little confused. There was just so much about the situation that didn’t make any sense to her. As Rhiannon licked at her fingertips, Skylar squirmed a little, the sensation of the cat’s rough tongue uncomfortable on her skin. Withdrawing her hand, she stuck her hand in the pocket of her light jacket. “She’s very cute. Um, no, she’s fine. Rough things just feel weird to me.” She said off-handedly. Everyday little touches and scrapes always bothered her a little bit more than they did to most people-- just another aspect of being hard of hearing, she supposed. “I’m okay!” Skylar said with a nod, though the gnawing worry in the pit of her stomach said otherwise. Nope, she wasn’t going to think about her problems right now, she was here to help Nadia.

“Yeah, cursed or maybe something else, I really don’t know,” Not Nadia murmured. “I get that this is very weird, I’m a little weirded out myself, and this isn’t the weirdest thing ever. I don’t think the name thing and the truth thing are connected, though. I was telling the truth before I gave R- someone my name.” Her phone buzzed several times in a row. When she checked a group message with both her and Blanche in it, she remembered her name. “Oh. Okay, yeah. My name is Nadia. That’s,” she frowned a bit. “That felt weird.” Nadia walked over to where Skylar and Rhiannon were, sitting down and lightly rubbing the kitten’s back. She was rewarded with her hand being bitten, but lightly. “And I’m still feeling pretty truth-y, so now I definitely know they’re not related, which would’ve been better to explain. But don’t worry; I won’t let her, like lick you again.” Nadia’s frown grew as she looked over at Skylar, almost thinking that she could feel the other woman’s emotions. “Okay, see, I know I can’t lie, but I can definitely tell when I’m being told one. What’s up? Seriously, I’m fi-” The word gets stuck. “I want to know how you’re really doing.”

Skylar blinked in confusion, but nodded. Maybe nodding would trick her into thinking that this was all logical and normal and totally fine, like when you smile to make yourself feel happy. But, before she could comment, Nadia looked at her phone and seemed to go back to normal? “Wait, what? You’re, you know that you’re Nadia? What just happened?” Skylar asked, staring incredulously. Was there some kind of text ghost who was taking people’s names? She bit inside of her cheek while the other woman seemed to brush the incident off. “I-- okay. So the truth thing really wasn’t at all connected to the name thing. Did you talk to anyone else who’s erm… not entirely human about telling the truth?” She asked, not entirely sure how to frame things. Grimacing at her words, Skylar shook her head. No, no. She really didn’t want to talk about her feelings. If she did, she might burst into tears or explode or just lose it-- no, she didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m okay.” She repeated, “I’m just… I’m here to help you right now.”

Nadia could practically feel Skylar’s confusion. “I’m… not doing a good job in explaining this. I’m sorry. It turns out that even when I’m spouting out the truth uncontrollably that it still doesn’t make sense. The… the person that took my name just texted me and gave it back. This person didn’t, exactly, mean to take my name, and I didn’t mean to give it to them when I did, but it just ended up happening. It’s, like, the pièce de résistance of my day. Really. Icing on top of the cake. But, it’s over, I have it back, and I didn’t really miss it that much to begin with.” She frowned. “Ignore that last bit. You know, actually, as far as I know, the other two people who have been affected by the truth thing are both human. I think. I’m not too sure about one of them.” She felt an overwhelming sadness, and she couldn’t think about what she was sad about. “Skylar, really, I’m fi-ungh. Okay, I’m not fine, but I haven’t been in, like, a long time. I mostly wanted you to come over to see how you were doing. You had me worried. Especially a few weeks ago when you told me that you didn’t want help. Which, this isn’t me offering, even though I really want to, because I don’t know if you’ll accept it, but… Yeah. I was worried. And I’m talking way too much.”

The continual flow of words was beginning to wear down on Skylar, but she kept her eyes focused on Nadia’s lips in an attempt to pick up the slight slack that her hearing aids just couldn’t pick up. The bit of French threw her off her rhythm for a moment, but when Nadia frowned and shrugged off the words, Skylar presumed it wasn’t all that important to have picked up. At least, she hoped it wasn’t. “Okay,” She said slowly with a nod. “As long as you’re okay with the whole name thing. I guess the truth thing will just… sort itself out? Maybe?” Watching as Nadia seemed to struggle with her words, she continued to frown. But as she kept on speaking, the conversation took a turn, away from Nadia’s situation and back towards her own. Her fingers tightened in the pocket of her jacket, her shoulders tensing. She didn’t-- she didn’t want Nadia to have to deal with her problems. “I took care of my situation. I took care of it, it’s fine, it’s done. It’s not a big deal, okay?” She insisted. “I don’t… I don’t want to be this way, but I am. And I’m figuring it out.”

It took Nadia far too long to understand Skylar’s confusion, but she eventually noticed the way the other girl was struggling to keep up. She felt like an ass. She was an ass. “And I’m such a fucking dick. I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” She began to sign I’m sorry a couple of times, continuously making the clockwise motion. She wasn’t great in sign language, but she knew how to say sorry in multiple languages. She was always apologizing for something. She liked to have her bases covered. “I’m sorry,” she said out loud one more time, extracting her other hand from Rhiannon’s grip. This is usually the part where she’d cover her face with her hands, but instead she just leaned her head back against the couch. She let her eyes scan over Skylar, taking in her tense shoulders and defensive posture. “Oka-” the word got stuck again, but she’s not particularly surprised. “You don’t have to talk about it,” she tried again. “I’m glad you’re figuring things out. You don’t have to talk about it.” The last thing Nadia wanted to do was upset the other girl. Things like this could either go the sad route or the angry route, and she didn’t want Skylar to have come all the way over here just to be upset. 

Blinking as Nadia began to sign “sorry” in quick succession, Skylar shook her head, holding up her hands apologetically. “No, no, you’re okay. People forget, it’s okay.” She said with a strained smile. At Nadia’s words, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. All she wanted to do was help. That was it. And… it was honestly really kind of her to even offer. Rubbing her temples, Skylar mentally weighed her options. She didn’t want to talk about this, she really didn’t. But she also didn’t want to make Nadia feel bad about this-- she liked Nadia a lot and didn’t want her to think she was causing a problem. Ugh. Letting out a sigh, Skylar looked up at the ceiling of the apartment, not meeting Nadia’s eyes. “I changed on my own the other day. Into… you know,” Skylar made the sign for seal, grimacing as her hands clapped together, “And it went… fine. It just brought up more baggage for me to deal with, but it’s fine. I’m going to be fine.” She said.

“I--” Nadia paused. “Still. I don’t think it’s okay.” She watched as Skylar seemed to mull things over. She kind of hated that she was making the other woman think about this so hard. But she listened as Skylar spoke, though she cocked her head to the side for a bit trying to understand Skylar’s sign before it clicked that she meant seal. It was kind of a cute gesture. “Okay. It’s good that you did it on your own. When we were texting I was… I was worried you wouldn’t. But, I mean, if this is the first time, I can imagine it might be difficult.” She didn’t know what Skylar meant by more baggage. She didn’t know if she should ask. “What-- It’s-- You don’t have to be fine, you know? I mean, I’m not. Can’t even lie about it. And I don’t really know what you’re going through, but it’s not something you have to be fine with if you don’t want to.”

Slipping her hands out of her pockets, Skylar folded her arms across her stomach, hugging herself as she shifted her gaze from the ceiling to the ground. Mmmmm. Nadia was only trying to help, she was only trying to help, that’s what she kept repeating to herself. “It’s not exactly the first time. It’s just the first time I chose to do it for myself. That first time no one forced me into it. Or tricked me.” She mumbled shaking her head. The woman’s next words were what caught her attention. That it was okay to not be fine? That… that wasn’t true. She had to be okay, she had to be fine, because if she wasn’t, then things would just keep piling up and it would all just weigh down on her until she couldn’t handle it anymore. Sucking in a deep breath, Skylar glanced up to look Nadia in the eyes. “I know. I know that. But, if I keep telling myself I’ll be okay, maybe it’ll be true.” Swallowing, she shifted her gaze. “I’m sorry. I came here to help and now you’re trying to help me and… I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Nadia said. Alright, that was probably where the baggage came from. God, she couldn’t imagine that. Being lied to and tricked into doing something, even if it was to help you, couldn’t be good for your mental health. That had to put a bunch of fucked up strain on your ability to trust and… Nadia couldn’t imagine. She felt awful for Skylar. “Then it’s a first time. It’s good. That you made that choice for yourself.” When Skylar looked her in the eyes, Nadia felt her heart drop. Those words were too real, too personal, and she couldn’t even tell them to herself anymore. “I… hope that works for you. It hasn’t ever worked for me.” She thought about reaching out, putting her hand on Skylar’s shoulder, something. Nadia was incredibly touch starved, but she didn’t know how Skylar felt about it. She knew some people really hated being touched. “Hey, no, don’t, like, apologize. You don’t have anything to apologize for. It’s helped to, like, be around another person, honestly.”

Good wasn’t how Skylar would describe what she’d been through. Good wasn’t exactly how she would think of realizing that her parents had never told her the truth, that they’d allowed her to come so close to death every moment of her life. Good… wasn’t right. But, Nadia didn’t need to know about all her issues. So Skylar merely nodded “I made the choice, mhm. And that makes a difference. It really does.” Looking back at Nadia, she shrugged. “It’s kind of like the whole… “if you smile, you start to feel happy” thing. The more you do it, the easier it gets.” She said. Her lips pursed together in a slight smile, but she continued all the same. “Are you sure? You’ve been through… a lot. Just from what you’d told me about the whole… possession situation and now this truth thing? It’s a lot. You don’t need more on your plate.”

It didn’t quite sit right with Nadia, the way Skylar phrased her statement, but she wasn’t going to push it. It was enough that the other woman was acknowledging that she had the choice to decide what to do with what she was. Even if she didn’t have any positive experience around it, she could build them, if she wanted. Nadia wasn’t going to mention that now, though. So she nodded along with Skylar. She even laughed a bit at the smiling thing. “Yeah, I think there’s a scientific study behind that. Something about it tricking your brain? I wish.” She sighed a bit. “I’m sure that you’re helping, and I’m sure that you don’t have to apologize. Everything else is really kind of up in the air. The possession thing… happened. I am… learning to live with it. This truth thing is a major inconvenience, but it could be worse. I mean, if I solely focus on my own problems, I’m going to drive myself nuts because I--” Nadia frowned and clamped her jaw shut. No need to go there.

“Mhm, that’s the one.” Skylar said, relaxing at the way Nadia laughed at it. Laughing, laughing was good. And, on the brightside, the other woman didn’t seem to protest the change in conversation, which she was grateful for. She wanted to help her, she wanted to help Nadia. That’s why she’d come here, not to unload her own situation. Humming sympathetically, Skylar’s fingers relaxed at her sides, no longer hugging herself as tightly. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. What do--” She stopped herself before she continued that thought. It wouldn’t be right of her to ask Nadia what she meant by that, not right now. “Okay. What if… what if we both try to help each other. So we’re not focusing on just ourselves. I can help you try and narrow down what might be causing this whole… truth thing. And you can help me,” Skylar swallowed, a lump forming in the back of her throat. “I don’t know… maybe you could help me figure out how to be more comfortable with all of this? This magic stuff? I don’t know, I’m just spitballing.”

Nadia tried to wave Skylar off. “It’s fi-- Ugh. I hate that word. I’m managing a lot better than I thought I would when I first woke up, let’s put it that way.” She watched the other woman ease up a bit. When she offered for the two of them to help each other out, Nadia could tell that it was all a bit much for Skylar, but she appreciated what the other woman was offering, and she truly did believe that they could help each other. “I think we can do that, yes. The truth thing… we should be able to figure that out. I’m not the only person afflicted, too, so this wouldn’t just be helping me, which means it’s actually beneficial.” She smiled comfortingly as Skylar. “And I can try to help with that. But I’ve got to warn you, I’m just a ghost-hacked human. There’s lots of other people in town that might be better with this. But I know what it’s like to be thrown into this shit without any clue what’s going on. So I can try.”

“That’s good, at least. It seems like you’re doing better than when I talked to you a couple weeks ago. The whole, um, not sleeping thing.” Skylar said with a slight wince. She wasn’t overstepping her bounds by mentioning it, was she? She wasn’t really sure what the etiquette on talking about possession was. “Okay. Mhm.” Skylar nodded. “Do you think someone directly caused this? I know you said they weren’t connected, but does it feel like when you lost your name, but it’s compelling you to tell the truth?” She asked. Maybe if Nadia could describe how it felt, that would narrow down possibilities? Ugh. She was grasping at straws, she didn’t know how any of this worked. “That’s true. But… you’re a friend. And I kinda need those more than I need people trying to tell me how to live my life.”

“I’m doing better, yeah. I usually sleep around six to eight hours, not necessarily consecutively, for every twenty-four hour period that I’m awake,” Nadia said, slightly wincing at her words. “Although I slept for an uninterrupted twelve hours after I went out for Valentine’s, which was nice.” She tried to think about what it felt like. “I can’t really tell, maybe? Not the same kind of person, though, I don’t think. I never made a promise, or verbally told someone I wouldn’t lie. It feels like… I go to say something, and, if it’s even a bit, like, false, I’m not saying it. My throat closes up, my hand stops typing correctly. And then I want to blurt shit out. Like, full frontal honesty.” Thinking about it more helped a bit, because she was beginning to tell that there was definitely magic involved. Not like the fae magic Regan used to take her name, or that weird feeling she’d gotten when she hadn’t been careful around the karkinoids. There was a difference to this. “I’ve never been cursed, so I can’t tell if this was, like, done by a person or a thing.” She smiled a bit brighter when Skylar called her a friend. She felt a bit stupid about it, like a child begging for attention, but she was happy all the same. “I see you as a friend as well. And I agree. I have no intention of telling you how to live your life. I’m not exactly in a position to give that kind of advice.”

Startled, Skylar stared at Nadia in shock. What? She’d been running on that little sleep this entire time? How was she still functioning? Granted, Skylar knew she slept more than the average person, particularly when things were bad for her. But, still. That couldn’t be normal. Pushing the thoughts from her head, Skylar focused her attention on the truth situation. She couldn’t really help Nadia with anything ghost related, but maybe she could help with this. “Hm. Okay... So it’s probably not related to a person. Which is kinda helpful, kinda isn’t. Mm.” Tapping her fingers against her side, Skylar quirked her lips. “Maybe… did you ever touch the chest? The chest, it was cursed too. But, not in any kind of truth telling kind of way. I, erm, I touched it and got like these horrible chills? And a couple of other people who’d touched it also felt the same way.” She said before shaking her head. But, they’d broken the curse when they’d opened the chest. And that awful eyeball thing had crawled out… “Thanks. I appreciate that a lot.”

Nadia tried to think back to when she, Beatrice, and Arthur had been near the chest. She’d never touched it, although she’d felt compelled to. Arthur was the only one that even sort of touched it by getting the charcoal etches. “No, I never touched it, although I did get gutted by a karkinoid trying to get to it.” Damn, that was probably a bit much. “I’m fine now,” she added quickly. “But, no, I didn’t touch it the other day when I went back either. You touched it? Christ, I’m glad you’re okay.” She thought about what she’d heard, about the awful coldness that came with the chest. She hadn’t felt as compelled to touch the horrible thing when she’d taken one of the coins the other day, but still. She hoped it couldn’t still do that to people. Impulsively, she reached out to pat Skylar on the shoulder. “Hey, dude. It’s no problem. Seriously.”

“Wait, you what?” Skylar blurted out, incredulous. Had she been stabbed like Remmy-- was Nadia a zombie too? But she slept and she’d actually managed to say that she was fine, unlike the other times in their conversation. “You’re sure you’re okay?” She asked, concerned. “No, I’m fine, I’m okay. It went away when we opened the chest and it went away for the other people who opened it too. But, I don’t… I’m not sure what else it could have been if it wasn’t the chest itself. Hrm.” She shook her head. When Nadia reached out to pat her shoulder, Skylar relaxed into the touch, more out of instinct than anything else. “I-- still. It means a lot to me, it really does.”

Flinching a bit, Nadia said, “I was, uh, like, snipped. I tripped, and one of the karkinoid’s claws caught my side pretty bad. But someone healed me; there’s not even a scar, so, besides a bit of psychological trauma over the fact that I had all but accepted my death in that one moment, I’m all good, physically.” There were also a few ruined articles of clothing, but those were insignificant. “Okay, that’s good. So, you were there? You were one of the ones that opened it?” Raising her eyebrows, Nadia thought back to the translation that she, Beatrice, and Arthur had managed to uncover. “So, you were one of the pure of heart, huh?” She grinned. “Makes sense.” When Skylar relaxed into her touch, Nadia felt herself relax a bit, too. She really went to long without physical contact, usually. “It means a lot to me that you’re helping with this, too, you know? You don’t have to, but I’m glad you are.”

Seeing the way Nadia reacted, Skylar winced. She shouldn’t have pried. Of course it was something that she was still dealing with. And the torrent of objective truth didn’t help either. “I--I shouldn’t have asked. I’m glad you’re okay now… at least, physically. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” She said, wishing that she’d never asked. She didn’t want to put the other woman through that again. But, at the words pure of heart, it was her turn to twitch uncomfortably. “I guess so. It opened up when we worked together, so it wasn’t just me.” She said with an awkward shrug. “It’s just the right thing to do, you know? There’s… a lot of messed up stuff happening and I want to help people if I can.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Nadia said. “You’re not the first person I’ve told about it, and, with the way this truth thing is going, you probably won’t be the last. I’m just hoping I don’t end up telling someone who, like, isn’t going to believe me.” She felt bad that she’d made Skylar uncomfortable, but, hell, after going through all the trouble to translate that demonic gibberish, she was just glad it had been fruitful. “Well, you and whoever you worked with did a fucking awesome job. You helped a lot of people.” She smiled. “And I’m grateful you’re helping me.” She watched her phone light up, a notification from someone coming in, and saw the time. “It’s getting late. Do you need to get home? Do you want to stay here for the night?” 

“Still… Either way, I’m glad that it all worked out. No more fish rain, no more cold curse, no more weird creepy magic.” Skylar replied. The chest was gone, it was all over.  Or, at least, she hoped the chest was gone. She hadn’t exactly stuck around after the eyeball incident and she had no intention of going anywhere near the beach again. When Nadia checked her phone, Skylar glanced at her watch and blinked in surprise. It was that late? Already? “I had no idea it was that late-- I’ve got to get back home. Work tomorrow, I have to be up early.” She said with a grimace before making her way towards the door. “But, if I find out anything more about this whole truth situation, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Right,” Nadia agreed, though something didn’t set right in her stomach. Fuck, that chest had been weird. And it was still there, just sitting, open, surrounded by coins and shit. At least the karkinoids were gone, mostly. As Skylar said she needed to get home, Nadia nodded her head. “Be safe. It’s, well, it’s White Crest out there.” She tried to joke, but it probably fell flat. “And that sounds good. I’ll let you know if I find out anything, too. I’m hoping it’s just limited to the three of us, but I’m getting a bad feeling about this shit.” She watched Skylar leave and then sagged against the couch. Rhiannon crawled in her lap, purring. Nadia sighed. “Fuck.”

[mcribel]

( ella purnell + 18 + muse 05 ) isn’t that maribel sawyer over there? i heard SHE joined faction one after they got back to west ham. it’s funny, ‘cause they were only on the service trip to do something kind. hopefully they fit in there – they’re TENDERHEARTED, but also BIDDABLE. oh, i’m sure they’ll be fine. ( james, she/they, 20, EST )

hello it’s me again !! i have really bad uuuhhhh self control so i brought in this sweetie !!

TW: PAST EATING DISORDER (MENTIONS ONLY), MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES.

a e s t h e t i c s

handwritten letters and ink-stained hands, vintage magnifying glasses and worn oxfords, knee-high socks and scraped knees, ribbons in hair and turtlenecks underneath dresses, dried flowers and locked up diaries, suede skirts and oversized cardigans, hot tea and cold coffee, flinching at loud noises, loud voices, record scratches and stumbles, stuttering words and beet-red faces, bitten nails and awkward stances, blankets laid out in the sun and the smell of newspapers.

general info !!

full name: maribel ottoline sawyer

nickname(s): mari, bell, lottie b/c middle name, etc. etc. just sawyer sometimes idk

b.o.d. - june 1st, 18 yrs old

label(s): the marionette, the demure, the obsequious, the allegiant, etc.

height: like 5′3″

hometown: duluth, minnesota

sexuality: ??? ??? ?????

stats TBD but her pinterest is HERE !

biography !!

born the middle child to a man in the air force and a woman whose passions laid among writing diet cookbooks and recording cooking DVDs, maribel was never anything extraordinary.

after all, her elder sister had a voice made for broadway, and her younger brother was writing sonnets before he’d hit middle school. and maribel was just maribel, another girl with middle child syndrome

her household was typical, conservative all-american, strict no matter where they moved. curfew before 9pm and family dinner every sunday, mandatory; better not miss out on those vegetables or you’ll be sitting there for hours. grounded for grades below their expected. the usual.

there wasn’t anything particularly interesting in her life for the longest time. she was just another shy girl who moved to school to school, quiet and seated in the very back of class, as if that’d allow her the coverage to remain unseen.

she couldn’t color in the lines, or follow the lines, or draw a straight line, the kind of gal who opened her mouth at the wrong time, whose voice got washed away by another’s interrupting. she got picked on at most schools, due to her size and her stumbling words, and she’d let it happen for the most part. always the wannabe, trying to be who she wasn’t.

it hadn’t helped that her mother was some sort of ... health food guru, a woman obsessed with image and the epitome of health - her practices were often forced upon maribel, especially, beginning in a long, difficult relationship with food.

by the time she was a freshmen in high school, her parents had divorced and, for a brief moment, mari thought she could finally settle down somewhere and become a normal teenager. this was until, of course, her mother enrolled her in a boarding school in nevada.

with her sister graduated and her brother still in middle school, mari was left alone in a strange school; the only constant being the cliques that surrounded herself and the money they waved around, as if it were nothing.

the only time she was ever really approached was because of her knack with forgery, a talent picked up after hours of mimicking others’ handwriting, an attempt to change every single part of her into someone likable.

often stayed in the computer labs during lunch and free periods, firstly because she’d never been allowed to have a computer at home (rots yr brain!) and secondly because she’d gotten into programming, and it was something she could actually ... see herself doing, potentially.

was alone in this until her sophomore year, when the next new kid found their way into the computer lab; the loser zone, the land of outcasts. this individual, despite their quirks and oddities, became maribel’s first genuine friend. they were a little too into conspiracies and mysteries, but that was alright.

soon enough, it started to rub off onto maribel, as well, who’d always been observant but not the kind of gal to put it to use. they became a tiny pair of investigators, p.i.’s without the certification, investigating petty school drama that was usually written on the inside of a bathroom stall.

essentially a less impressive nancy drew / scooby doo gang / veronica mars duo.

surprisingly ! beginning junior year, maribel got involved with the weed and underaged drinking and whatnot b/c her like, very best friend was doing it and she wanted to be...impressive, i guess?

so then they became stoner detectives. about halfway thru their junior year is when things got uuhh ... complicated.

one night they were just, y’know, getting high and other typical teenager things. and then someone started talking about aliens, and then area 51, and then they both became increasingly aware that they were living in nevada and Not Too Far from the airbase.

long story short, they attempted to break into area 51. they got caught, got charged with trespassing and had to be bailed out of county jail, maribel’s dad almost lost his job, and her best friend disappeared without a trace almost immediately afterwards. spooky shit !

this is when her mother packed up and moved them to west ham, kansas ! it was for a ~fresh start~ but really was just a way to keep her eye on maribel.

i mean, god, for the rest of her junior year maribel was miserable. she was a student at west ham high but like ... god, she hardly spoke to anyone. drug tested every week, essentially on some sort of form of house arrest.

wasn’t really allowed to get a job during this either ! so she made money by anonymously creating and selling fake I.D.’s b/c like ... yolo, y’know? why not?

her mental health deteriorated during this and by the summer before her senior year she was getting help for an eating disorder. she was essentially gone the entire summer, but like ... doubt anybody noticed tbh !

by the time senior year rolled around, maribel was in a better place and was like ... determined not to fall into a bad headspace again. her anxiety’s still pretty strong but ! she’s trying !

uuh started working for the school newspaper as a help column under a fake name b/c ! this was her way of branching out and getting to know students w/o actually doing it lmao.

took a few of her classes online so she could leave school earlier, just b/c it was a major source of anxiety for her and like ... she couldn’t eat alone in the bathroom again. her mom was a little less ... restrictive, so maribel got a job.

or well ... she got a lot of jobs. maribel, being maribel, can hardly keep a job b/c she usually ends up fucking up real badly in an almost comical manner and getting fired.

on the otherhand, she had earned herself a partial scholarship and was debating over majoring in computer science or investigative journalism (her parents were very disapproving of her doing computer science, however, so she was likely to be forced into journalism) ... until the trip.

she went as a simple act of kindness, y’know, to give back to the community that she hardly knew.

and now here we are !! joining faction one b/c she knows of everybody there and they’re all her age and like ... she can’t be on her own or she’d actually die lmao so !

personality !!

god ... she’s awkward. like just, straight up awkward. she’s real bad at talking to others.

always tripping and stumbling over her words, and occasionally her own two feet. she’s constantly jittery and just like ... fidgety b/c she’s usually nervous. touch her hand. it’s shaking. why? she doesn’t know !

however maribel is like ... very very very nice. tries really hard to be kind to everybody and tries really hard 2 be a good pal to whoever makes their way into her life.

sorta kinda like ... adjusts her personality 2 match whoever she’s talking to b/c she wants to be likable. oh, you smoke marlboros? me too ! proceeds to cough a lung after inhaling one (1) cigarette. that sort of shit.

used to smoke a lot of weed but ! didn’t really do it that much in recent months. might increase now that her mom isn’t around but you never know. uuhh the rare times that she does drink it’s like ... a complete flip in her personality. becomes ms. extrovert, a flirt of flirts. but that’s very rare.

very hesitant with befriending people even tho she ! desperately wants friends ! she’s just a little untrusting ... a little worrisome ... believes she’s cursed to be a friendless loser for the rest of her life. so she’s definitely like .. a try hard too.

i mean like i don’t think ‘no’ is in her vocabulary ! she’ll do anything if u ask and like .. sound like u really want it. really just is seeking approval whenever possible.

squeaks like a mouse :/

rambles ! when she’s nervous ! and apologizes a lot.

she’s just like ... insecure and doesn’t expect anybody 2 remember her from anything jskdfg

easily bends to other’s will, easily manipulative / easy 2 step on / etc. etc.

she does smile and like ... laughs a lot tho ! b/c she tries rly hard to come off as like happy and optimistic and like ... not having deep-rooted issues with herself. 

she’s a good kid, just a lil plain jane. can’t talk for shit but has given good written advice b4. is good w/ math n numbers but not much anything else.

she is really observant !! doesn’t rly use it to her advantage tho :/ she just makes mental notes ... writes shit in her diary b/c she 100% keeps n writes in her diary daily. 

sort of lies abt herself too ! like it’s nothing serious but like ... she doesn’t rly want others to know how lame she is sdifkg

can be ... ditzy , lacking common sense, a little naive ... just wants everything to be okay :(

loves vintage stuff ! owns p much only vintage stuff ! also listens 2 like ... records exclusively like the dork she is. like soft indie pop and other shit.

has probably cried 2 mitski but like ... who hasn’t :/

literally only turned 18 like ... a few days ago ... she’s baby ...

wanted connections !!

god okay ... so like obv i would like some friends for her ... varying degrees of closeness.

idk somebody she has crushed on before / is crushing on currently .. but like, from afar, like she’d never talk to them but she can look !! and dream !! and write their names together in her diary

somebody use her b/c she’s so naive n like ... usable. idk what for but ! anything ! get her to steal shit ! get her to wreck shit or to lie for you or whatever !

like ... fake friends ... ppl who’ll throw her away once her purpose is done

alternately !! something pure n wholesome.

ALTERNATELY srsly though. wreck her shit. convince her you care for her n then betray her !!

conspiracy pals ... for the rare times she gets high ...

someone she flirted with once while drunk at like a party and now she’s embarrassed and avoids them :/

an ex-tutor b/c ... don’t think school’s in session anymore ...

ppl who genuinely want the best for her and like ... care for her as a living person.

someone who just cant stand ! that she’s so weak minded and malleable ! and rather than use her they just ... clash with her. cause arguments even tho maribel doesn’t rly... do that.

like someone just yell at her sdikfg

someone has to get her out of a sticky situation and they’re like ... Annoyed. might not wanna admit it but ! and she just feels bad

ppl who she’s definitely given a fake I.D. to

ppl who literally forgot she existed dkfmghg

someone for her to follow around like a lil puppy and sidekick !! b/c she doesn’t have a single independent thought !! someone she’s just rly trying to impress

someone found her diary and oh no ! it’s embarrassing !

c o r r u p t  h e r. idk how ! seduce her ! make her look at the world differently ! ruin her ! DESTROY HER !

literally ... anything ...pleathe ... i’ll give u a penny.