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gottalovetumbler · 22 days ago

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𝓓𝓪𝔂 8

ᵏᵉᵉᵍᵃⁿ/ᵛᵉˡⁱᵏᵃⁿ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Info: Fem!Reader, Lots of cussing this chapter, also some angst, maybe?, idk, idc

——— 💧:( ———

Anger was a nasty itch that’s impossible to scratch without revenge, everyone knew that. Annoyance though? Annoyance was a parasite. It clung to a host and slowly made its way through the nervous system, making itself known every inch it grew.

That, that is why you’ve been holed up in your room for just about four days straight. You and Nikolai ended up bickering the whole drive (2 minutes) back to base. It was kinda fun at first but eventually he began getting under your skin. Saying shit with a purposefully thicker accent that had you confused and Captain Price chuckling. If there’s one thing you fucking hate, it’s being the butt of a joke you don’t get.

Sure, Val, Rudy and Ale teased you, hell they grilled you for almost 30 minutes straight to tell them who had the worst accent. (It’s definitely Rudy but you didn’t wanna hurt his feelings so you stayed silent) But Atleast you were in on the joke. It had even felt nice, like you were with not just friends but family again. Where you don’t have to be ashamed of your struggles understanding because instead of a flaw, they see it as a part of you.

But that fucking asshole Nikolai. Purposefully making remarks that only he and Price knew and laughing straight in your face after. No remorse, just amusement. To be honest though, that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that Captain Price didn’t even try and help you.

He’s the one that brought the damn thing up in the first place and then, he left you to burn. You and him weren’t the closest ever, you knew that. But still, not only had you known him for a decent time, he’s also a Captain. A superior. And he essentially let you get bullied right in his back seat.

Ok well not bullied, that’s a bit overdramatic. But it still stung. What stung more though was honestly just the fact that it had bothered you so much. Like you don’t even know the man’s first name for fucks sake and here you are upset that he wasn’t backing you up? Fucking pathetic.

So that would be why your holes up in your room. Calling out of your shifts was easy enough, using the “just got out of the hospital” excuse really worked. And luckily, due to laziness, you have a 24 pack of water and enough snacks so you haven’t had to leave your room at all. Thank God for connected bathrooms too.

The clock reads 19:35 when the banging starts up on your door, again. For the past 3, now 4, days straight at exactly 19:35, Johnny has come around and tried getting you out of your room. The first day he was sympathetic.

‘A'm sorry bonnie. He kin be an arsehole sometime’. Ah promise he didnae mean anythin' by it. We all think yer fear is adorable, na no one ever mak's fun o' ye fur it. Ah promise.’

‘BULLSHIT!’ You had yelled back, that was the first and only time you’ve responded since. Was this a stupid hill to die on? Yes, yes it was. Are you still gonna die on it? Yes, yes you are.

Over the days he grew more and more impatient and it seems today he’s gotten to the banging and yelling stage. Yelling about how he and Gaz really miss you. And the Rudy keeps asking about you, he, Val and Ale are on a mission somewhere right now, and that of your still locked up when he gets back he’s breaking down the door.

The only reason Soap hasn’t done that exact thing yet is the fact that if he did, he’d be automatically terminated and dishonorably discharged. Seeing as you willingly talk to the medical staff, a break in couldn’t be excused by a supposed “wellness check”

He finally stops trying at 20:15, promising to be back at the same time the next day. Swearing that he’ll wear you down, no matter what. And so as sleep pills on your eyelids, you tuck in and pass out.

It’s only 2:45 when you wake, confused as to why you glance around and freeze. Standing in the far right corner of your room is a man, not moving, not speaking, just standing. You’re about to scream when the carpet to your left crunches. Slowly you look over and there’s a second man, of course there fucking is, standing maybe 2 feet away, also staring.

OH MY FUCKING GO-

‘You’re fine.’

I’m sorry,’What?’

‘I said, you’re fine. We aren’t going to do anything to you, just making sure you’re breathing.’

The man standing 2 feet away removes his weird as goggles things as he crouches down to your level.

‘See Vel, told you she’s fine. Now you can tell psychopath 1 and 2 to fuck off.’

With that he stands and makes his way to the door. The man in the far corner follows, not speaking a word. As he steps out of the shadows you see he’s also wearing a mask, one with a sharp-toothed mouth decorating the front.

‘I’m sorry but what the fuck was that?’

‘Like I said kid, just makin sure you’re alive. Now when you wake back up ima couple hours, leave the damn room and show everyone else you’re alive. If you don’t, I’m gonna send him,’ he juts his thumb to the silent Vel, ‘and you don’t want him to come and get you. Now have a good night and i better see you at lunch at the latest. I wanna watch as Nikolai and John apologize. It’ll be like watching the sun explode, once in a life time.’

With that, both men exit and shut your door, somehow relocking it from the outside. Welp, Atleast you now know another fellow American. Bringing the grand to total toooooo…. 3.

——— 💧:( ———

#velikan cod #velikan x reader #Keegan cod #Keegan x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x fem!reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap cod #soap x reader #kyle gaz x reader #gaz cod #cod rodolfo #rodolfo x reader #fluffember

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 10 months ago

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Pairing(s):Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Jacob Black x Witch!OC

Warnings: this will be the second to last chapter of this series, some spanish (i know a little but thanks to being extremely white washed i still had to go to google translate 🙃), really sorry this took so long :(, i'll try to get the last part out in a timely manner but no promises

Words: 3842

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 40(series finale)

Screams coming from Sam's home has your paws picking up speed and Evita's hands tightening in your fur so that she could hold on. The others were at your heels, uneasiness clouding the pack telepathy and only thinking of the worse. Surely, today couldn't get any worse, right?

Once in the backyard, no one cares that you three wolves are stark naked. Evita didn't bat an eye having grown accustomed to the pack's frequent nudity.

Nearly ripping the backdoor off it's hinges, all of you crowd into the kitchen and rush through to the living room where Bella and Nadege are screaming, but not in pain in horror. Their outburst is one of pure delight when you catch the sight of a perfectly made ward clutched in Bella's hand.

Tension flees from you and you too pull Evita forward as both of you squeal in delight.

"You did it!!" Sliding onto your knees in front of her, you beckon for Bella to show you the ward. Evita's curls bounce with excitement as she says something in Spanish to Nadege.

Bella's eyes are large and there's the telltale sign of glossy tears that are on the brink of following over her bottom lashes. You'd never seen her smile that wide. Her hands are trembling when she hands it over to you for inspection.

"All the wards are finished." Evita gleefully announces to the others in the room that had gone unnoticed in the moment.

Seth, gleaming over Nadege's shoulder, rises to his full height to address Jacob. "Sam?"

Difficult to pull his attention away from Bella's ward, he reluctantly looks up at Seth and Emily who lingered near the hallway. "He'll be at the Cullens for a while. They have Irina there under some sort of sleeping spell."

You catch the younger wolves grumble about missing it but one silencing glare from Leah, they settle down and merely fold their arms. Quil and Embry, sitting next to them, are grateful that it's not them for once on the receiving end of Leah's deadly gaze.

"We need to disperse these wards as soon as possible." Evita says while searching through her backpack for a rolled up piece of printer paper. Inked on it was a map of the Forks-LaPush area. "They don't have to be placed at these exact coordinates. Just as long as they're in the general area."

"I'll go get the other wards." Emily nods and retreats to the bedroom she shared with Sam, deemed the most secure place in the house.

Back and laying out the rest of the wards on the coffee table, there's the question of dividing the pack into groups to scatter them in their appropriate locations.

And much to your shock, their eyes all turned to you.

It takes you a moment to realize everyone was staring at you. You were still congratulating Bella while the others spoke.

When you find their attention solely on you, it causes your face to warm. "What?"

"Well. . . since the older members of the pack are at the Cullens. . ." Jacob takes the lead since no one else was saying anything. "And you and Sam have been spending a lot more time together-"

"You're the closest thing to an alpha we have at the moment." Leah finishes for Jacob since he appeared to be struggling with an explanation.

Nadege and Evita possess toothy grins as they glance from you to your packmates.

"Me?" Voice squeaking, you feel your palms grow clammy.

Embry's warm eyes happens to calm your nerves as he gives you an encouraging grin. "Well, alpha?"

Taking a deep breath, you nod your head. "Okay."

Ideally you'd want to wait for the sky to darken a little more to better hide the massive wolves moving through the woods (and even having to cross a few public streets) to get to their given pinpoints.

You and Evita stay behind as you watch the other duos disappear in the weaving web of the forest trees. Brady and Embry to one direction, Quil and Colin, Seth and Leah; the only pairing you questioned slightly was Bella and Jacob. Perhaps they could use this time to make up as well (not like you were one to talk. you had yet to even mention what happened to him). Nadege would take the last one and shift to her bird body. She much preferred an aerial view opposed to you and your packmates navigating by scent and memory.

Phasing back to your superior wolf form, Evita easily swings herself onto your back. Her fingers slightly pull at your fur as she makes sure to get a good grip. The first time she'd been a passenger on you, she'd fallen without much help staying on you. Learning her lesson, she now used your fur as handlebars, being as gentle as she could while also affirming that she would not be flying off.

You and Evita would be the group to go the furthest out. You'd have to travel to the border of where Forks meets the Elk Creek Conservation Area. Doing your best to keep away from the public eye and keeping to the wilderness.

Trying not to stumble, you realize you're impatient to get this whole thing over and done with. No more of the black overbearing cloud that were the Volturi looming over your heads. Irina was subdued. Victoria was long gone. The Volturi were your only obstacle left. And then. . .

You might be able to have a chance to finally breathe and enjoy your budding relationship with Edward. Live a life of a young lady in love. Was that too much to ask for?

Awkward was not quite the word Jacob would have chosen. Tense, perhaps cringe inducing were the more appropriate terms. Instead of shapeshifting like the rest of his pack, he chose to use his motorcycle and have Bella on the back of his seat. Her hands cling onto the front of his shirt from behind. Jacob had noticed the lack of strength as she gripped onto the fabric. He'd overheard from Dieufel how using magic could drain one's energy. Especially those who are just beginning in the practice. Making that ward must have taken a lot out of her.

Irina had destroyed much of his garage including his beloved Volkswagen. But his motorbike survived.

They drove in silence to the northern most part of Forks.

Actually, not complete silence. Thanks to the slight auditory enhancement he possessed with his human body, Jacob could hear the rapid fluttering of the cardiac muscle that resides in her chest. Swore he could even feel it too against his back as Bella clung to him.

While he felt incensed for what (y/n) had down in spilling the beans, he knew he'd omitted the truth to Bella and ultimately was the cause for her hurt feelings. He'd wanted to apologize before hoping onto his bike, but time was crucial more than ever.

"This should be good enough." Jacob says once the engine of his bike is silenced.

Bella pulls off her helmet and puts it in the spot behind Jacob. She looks around at the barren area where they'd stopped at. Nadege instructed her that all Bella was required to do now was simply dig a small hole and bury the ward. The witch doubted the Volturi would even be aware of what the ward was if they came across it. Better safe than sorry.

From the small backpack, Bella grabs the two necessary items for their mission: the ward and a small handheld spade.

She couldn't mess this up.

She wouldn't mess this up.

Her fingers have a stranglehold on the items in each of her hands. Jacob watches her curiously while scanning his eyes around their surroundings every so often.

Dirt flies as she makes a hole deep enough to properly cradle the stone smooth ward. Covering it back up, she flattens the earth back into proper alignment to not draw attention to what is buried underneath.

"Done." Her smile is hopeful when she walks back to Jacob. Her helmet is almost on her head before Jacob interrupts her.

"Wait, Bella. . ."

Hesitantly, Bella lowers her arms along with the helmet and arches a slim brow up.

"I'm sorry about what happened the last time we hung out. I'm sorry about a lot of things, actually. I should have at least told you about the imprinting. But, I was in denial about it. I didn't want it to be on someone I didn't know. I always hoped that you would somehow be my imprintee." Jacob chews on his bottom lip. "You didn't deserve that though. You're my friend. Probably one of my best friends but don't tell the others."

"I just wished you would've let me be there for you like you've always been there for me, Jake. I can't imagine what you were going through all that time. Didn't understand why you were acting like an-"

"Asshole?"

"Yes."

Both laugh.

"I forgive you." Bella says with a smile still on her face. "How are you feeling about the imprinting now? Still in denial?"

That has his expression sobering up. "Can't really deny it anymore. Plus I feel better knowing that Leah's imprinted on that Dieufel dude."

"Wait- really?"

Jacob nods. "Yup. Neither Dieufel or Evita know about it. Sam instructed the pack not to let the witches know of the imprinting until after this ordeal with the Voltur is finished with."

Their gaze lingers back to their buried treasure. Bella encouragingly tells him "Well, that day may be sooner than you thought. If she's worth the wait, which I think she is, then you just have to bear through it."

Bella holds his hand. it wasn't even that long ago where this kind of contact would have him getting butterflies in his stomach. Now though he sees her as a sister.

That's when he sees the exhaustion on her face. "You tired?"

"Magic, as I am now learning, is a lot more energy draining than I imagined." With the weariness was contentment though. She glowed thinking of all that cramming paid off. "This makes me feel like i can right some of the mistakes that have come from my involvement with Edward"

"Want me to drop you off on the way back?" Offers Jacob.

She declines. "No. I want to see this thing through."

"Quit moping." Leah scolds him through pack telepathy.

The skin of Seth's muzzle furls into an ugly snarl that shows his front teeth. "I'm NOT moping. Why didn't you tell me you imprinted? I wouldn't have judged you for it or anything! I'm your brother-"

She turns to snap her jaws at him. The pouch that hung around her thick neck swings from the sharp movement. There lay their ward that they are to bury. "I didn't want ANYONE to know. I wished it had never happened!"

Seth flinches away, ears flattening against his head and tail moving between his legs.

Taking her temper down a few notches when she feels the hurt radiating from him, Leah internally sighs. She shouldn't be picking fights, especially not with the pack. Enough fighting will be ahead. There shouldn't be any interpersonal fighting within the pack.

She loved her brother and since losing their father, she didn't want to lose anyone else in her small family.

They begin walking again though Leah noticed Seth was further behind.

"I was scared, Seth. I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do. I panicked. . ." Hating admitting that she felt fear, Seth acknowledged her apology as genuine.

Quiet passes for a few minutes until Leah could feel Seth beside her once more; his paws emitting gentle pitter patters over small twigs and crunchy leaves. "No. . . it's alright. . . from (y/n) and Jacob. . . imprinting doesn't seem like a good thing."

"Hopefully when you imprint it won't be as complicated." Leah adds with a small lilt to her thoughts that makes it sound like she's smiling.

Doubt crept in. He hadn't seen anyone positively impacted by their imprinting thus far. Even Sam and Emily started on a rocky start. Imprinting became something terrifying to the younger wolves. He'd spoken with Brady and Colin, neither happy or looking forward to finding their soulmate. In fact they continuously hoped that it would never happen to them. Being a wolf was hard enough.

To change the subject, Seth goes about finding an appropriate dig spot when they reach their destination. His long claws are useful pulling up dirt.

Leah's back in her human skin, pulling at the chord around her neck to open the pouch. She holds the stone in her hand. Warm to the touch. Waiting for Seth to finish, her attention is completely enraptured by the small rock that would ultimately save so many lives. They were putting all their faith in this thing.

She heaves a heavy sigh, placing the stone into the ground, murmuring a silent pray she wasn't sure anyone would hear.

"Do you think anyone else from the pack will imprint soon?" Brady once again asks Embry and he has to refrain from groaning. The leather pouch strung around his neck bobs as he merely shakes his head to emote his ire. "I wish I had imprinted on Nadege. She's so hot."

If he were in his human body, Embry certainly would have rolled his eyes. "Focus Brady. This is important and we can't fuck it up."

The younger wolf whines. "I know it's important. I just want to lighten the mood. Everything has been so. . . life or death lately."

Embry felt for Brady. He really did. Poor kid was the youngest in the pack. Not even fifteen yet. Brady wasn't allowed to act like a kid his age normally will thanks to this whole werewolf shit.

Reading his thoughts, Brady flicks an ash brown furred ear. "I'd rather be a wolf then some boring teenager."

"You think that for now." It had been all fun and games for Embry too until (y/n) imprinted on Edward.

Thoughts are interrupted by the loud screeching of a bird from overhead. Brady's body lowers to the ground, lips parted in a snarl as his eyes shoot upwards. Embry too digs his nails into the ground, preparing for any kind of air assault that may come their way. This bird didn't sound like any they'd encountered in the wild before.

Familiar colored feathers flurry around in a storm when a giant falcon dives to the ground. Nadege is flushed, panic striking her eyes. "Bury the ward and get out of here. I just saw two cloaked figures traveling down the mountainside. They must be your Volturi."

She returns to her hawk form, allowing the boys to pick up speed and hurry up all while shooting the message down the pack telepathy.

"Stay calm you guys." They can hear Leah's voice. "Just get it down and get out of there. Like Nadege said."

"Evita said once the last ward is in place, the entire thing will activate." (y/n) says. Since Embry has known the girl since childhood, he picked up on the nervous tremor of her thoughts. She was rightfully worried about them encountering members of the Volturi so soon. "We've already buried our's. Evita got a text from Bella that they've buried their's as well."

"Our's is buried too." Quil replies.

Nadege follows them from the sky, partially leading them to the area they were supposed to be in.

"Maybe if Brady hadn't been mooning over Nadege-"

"Shut up Colin!"

"Both of you shut up!" Leah and (y/n) command in unison.

Phasing, Embry yanks open the pouch hastily while Brady starts to dig a hole with his giant paws.

Another ear splitting cry from the treetops, cutting through the forest. Nadege. The Volturi were even closer, uncomfortably so. Her bird body lands on a branch, sharp talons piercing the bark for support. Feathers ruffled in agitation.

Kicking dirt back into the hole, Embry successfully grins. "Done!" He pivots to Brady. "Lets get the hell out of here!"

Brady wasn't looking at Embry though. Frozen to the spot and fur spiked up, slowly his snout furls into a snarl. Nadege releases a high-pitched whistle, sharp and penetrating scream.

"So, these are the wolves Irina told us about."

Without his heightened wolf sense, their scent had passed by him. Embry feels sweat prickling at the nape of his neck despite the chill in the air.

"Turn around, boy."

A throaty growl rumbles from Brady who dared to take a step closer to Embry. Embry simply tried to shoot him a look that hopefully read 'stay where you are' or 'don't move'.

He does so, knowing the rest of the pack was on their way. And that the wards were in position. To test it, all the Volturi had to do was try and pass over it to get to Embry and Brady.

Embry holds his breath, staring into two pairs of blood red eyes. Eery and reminding Embry of the newborns they'd faced off with two weeks prior.

One of them chuckles. "He's nothing but a mere child. The other also seems like just a pup himself."

They creep closer and Embry has to resist glancing down at the ground at the fresh pile of dirt that hid the ward. Instead he waits while his heart is ramming against sternum, threatening to break free from it's confines. These two. . . they felt different from the newborns he'd faced off against.

"Where are the others in your pack?" The taller of the two cock their head to the side. His foot steps over the threshold, a few inches away from Embry. Immediately there's a sizzling sound before the Volturi guard shoots back as if electrically shocked. He hisses in pain, scarlet eyes glaring at Embry. His companion eyes him questioningly before Nadege swoops from her perch and in another flurry of feathers switches back to her human form to protectively stand next to Embry.

He hisses "A witch. More unnatural creatures."

Recovering from his pain, the other one bares his teeth. "Aro will be pleased to know about this. He'll enjoy wiping all of you off the face of the earth."

"I'd like to see him try." Nadege fiercely barks back. Her height matched that of the taller Volturi member. She was a commanding beauty who wouldn't back down. Not when it meant the lives of those she had befriended. "You Volturi are ignorant of the world around you. If you truly aim to rid the world of other beings like us, you'll never achieve it."

That statement outrages the vampires.

Not more than the thundering of large paws that makes the earth tremble. Back up had finally arrived.

A horde of snapping jaws and snarling faces. Bella is seated atop of Jacob's russet brown wolf while Evita is atop of (y/n)'s back. The human girls glare at the ruby eyed vampires. Bella recalling their identities with a scowl.

"Miss Swan."

"Demetri." Her pale lips spit out. Fingers curl tighter into Jacob's fur.

Demetri's companion hisses. "Traitor. You have gone back on your word."

"The situation has changed."

Edward, flanked by a newly returned Carlisle and Jasper, emerge from the trees on the side of the Volturi guards.

"Explain this heresy." Demetri turns to them while Felix keeps his wicked gaze on the wolves. "Why have you allied yourselves with these beasts? Not telling the Volturi of their existence would be considered the highest of crimes."

"Like Edward said, the situation has changed. They helped us fight Victoria's newborn army. They are not the werewolves which the Volturi exterminated throughout Europe centuries ago." Carlisle simply explains with that calm demeanor of his. Perhaps Jasper was using his ability on their side to soothe the tempers of Demetri and Felix as the rigidness of their posture slackened.

"One of those wolves just so happens to be my mate too." Edward proudly announces which only sends disgust through Demetri and Felix.

Felix laughs bitterly "So you traded in a human for a mongrel?"

The wolves growl in indignation for their packmate. (y/n) simply flicks an ear, uncaring for what they thought.

"Easy there." warned Carlisle. "Right now you're trespassing on their territory. I would change the tone if I were you. If you'll just follow us back to our house-"

"What and talk it over a nice cup of tea?" Demetri lightly mocked. "No, this can't be resolved that simply."

"Demetri, please-"

"You've aligned yourself with these savage animals. Not just them, but mortals who possess the powers of a supernatural. They have no place in our world."

"Que hombre tan tanto. (What a stupid man)"

Evita's eyes round at the two newcomers entering the forest. A fearful tremor in her voice. "Mama?"

As if taking a leisure forest stroll, Alice and an older woman stand side by side. Alice looking so petite and pale compared to her companion whose dark, wild curls had strands of silver that would catch on the light. A burgundy shawl is wrapped around her shoulders, covering the cream colored blouse she wore.

Evita's mother scowls at her daughter on the other side of the ward's protective embrace. "Evita, estas en un gran problema. ¿Aquí es donde has estado? (Evita, you're in big trouble. This is where you've been?)" Her eyes, while being the same lovely color as Evita's, had the tell tale signs of aging. Also much like Evita when the pack first met her, there's that tangy scent of magic that wafts through the air that clung to the older woman.

At the slight threatening tone in her voice, Evita pales.

Switching from Spanish to English, Annalisse huffs and turns to address Demetri and Felix. "You two feel like big men? Threatening children?" They open their mouths like their about to protest, but Annalisse silences them with a slash of her hand. Whether that was due to magic or just her intimidating air would be a mystery. Either way it did the trick.

Almost comedic how they shrank away from her as she struts straight up to them despite Alice and the other three Cullen males trying to stop her. This woman was fearless and had the pack staring at her in admiration. Witches were made of much stronger stuff than the regular human. Even Nadege almost leapt into action once the Volturi duo arrived.

"If you want war, the only losers in it would be the Volturi. Only a handful of your kind possess special abilities. Unlike us. You think immortality will save you? That your massive coven will be enough? You're outnumbered even now."

A few quiet seconds pass, Demetri and Felix exchanged glances, a hint of uncertainty flickering in their eyes. They were used to asserting dominance, but this woman exuded a power they hadn't anticipated. Reluctantly, Demetri spoke up, his tone begrudging. "Carlisle, show the way."

Please let me know what you guys would like to see in the final chapter :) I'm interested to hear how you want things to end.

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 10 months ago

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I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 4

AO3

Summary: Frankie and Rosie grow closer in the aftermath of another tough mission

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

Rosie sat in the cockpit waiting for the order to depart, practically twiddling his thumbs as every minute that passed spurred his anxiety for his team's first mission. He had never been a nervous flyer - quite the opposite, it was the reason he'd been given command in the first place - but the seemingly endless wait left him growing irritable, the headset that covered his ears reflecting the relentless thump of his heartbeat right back at him.

The smell inside the bombers was a constant, permeating combination of sweat and smoke, a smell he could never quite get used to, no matter how much time he spent sitting in it. Pappy was in the seat beside him, using the cuff of his sleeve to wipe a wark off of his goggles that Rosie was fairly certain was a scratch, and no amount of scrubbing would make it yield.

His attention was caught by the sound of yelling outside, the exact words muffled by the glass barrier that existed between the pilots and the outside world. Looking out, Rosie spied Frankie and Lemmons, calling to each other as they approached from either side of the runway. They were each holding empty fuel cans in both hands, and clinked them together like glasses in greeting as they met in the middle. Frankie passed her weight from foot to foot, swaying slightly on her hips as if to a song only she could hear - she must have been hours into her work, and it seemed that on mornings this hectic once she had begun moving she didn't stop.

A huff of laughter escaped him, which drew Pappy's gaze away from his goggles, leaning forward in his seat to peer at the scene outside. The pair of mechanics were in such a hurry that they didn't even bother stopping for the duration of their conversation, still calling to each other over their shoulders as they went their separate ways. As Frankie passed, she noticed Rosie up in the cockpit and offered a wave, her bright, energised grin a far cry from the tired smiles she had offered him the first time they'd met. Sweat beading on her brow in the morning sun, she was practically glowing.

Rosie raised his hand to reciprocate with a shy wave of his own, watching his co-pilot in his peripherals as Pappy craned further forward still to watch her disappear from view around the side of their plane.

"D'ya think her and Egan are a thing?" The man asked. Rosie turned pointedly to look at him, raised brow tilting the rim of his hat.

"A thing?"

"Yeah. Yunno. Together, n' all. Nash told me some of the fellas have been takin' bets, apparently they sang a duet at one of them shindigs a while back."

"You fellas talkin' about the mechanic and Major Egan?" Nash's voice piped up, his head suddenly appearing through the gap between their seats. "Oh yeah, that's definitely happenin'."

Rosie gave Nash a playful shove, forcing him back out of the cockpit. "That is not happening, I promise. Have you even met her?"

Pappy raised a brow. "Have you?"

He paused for a long moment. "... Once. But it was enough to know that is not what's going on there."

"If you say so," His co-pilot shrugged, far from wholly convinced, returning to attempting to clean the mark from his goggles.

"It's a scratch, Pappy, you can't wipe it off."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Frankie had been running inventory when the planes began to roll back in, tallying up what they had and in what quantities, writing up a list of things they needed to pass on to the higher ups. She stuck her head out of the hut, clinging to the doorframe as she counted the forts passing overhead, the list of supplies becoming crumpled as she shoved it into her pocket, rushing for the hardstand.

"Thirteen," She muttered, calling the number again as she spotted Lemmons. "Thirteen?"

"I counted the same," He confirmed, the colour drained from his face as they tossed their tools into the back of one of the jeeps. Climbing into the passenger seat, Frankie reached over and pressed the back of her palm against Ken's forehead, the younger mechanic batting her away as he tugged on the handbrake.

"No Cleven?" It didn't take a fool to figure out what had shaken Lemmons so fiercely. She had been in full support of his last-ditch effort to repair Cleven's engine, but it had been a makeshift move at best. If his plane had gone down, mechanical failure was far from out of the question.

"No," Ken shook his head, a slight tremor in his voice. "No Cleven."

How the hell were they going to break it to Bucky?

They'd certainly seen forts return in worse shape than this, although Frankie scarcely dared to imagine what state those that hadn't returned had ended up in. The mental image she had created of Curtis Biddick's final moments replayed in her mind, and it was near impossible to fathom the weight of that fear multiplied by the number of men they had lost. Frankie and Lemmons had split up near the interrogation huts, the creased list of supplies clutched in her grip as she slid out of her seat, promising to catch him up once her business was done.

Crowds of disoriented-looking soldiers made their way towards the Red Cross' hut, hopeful hands open and waiting to receive a cup of coffee or a bite to eat as a meagre reward for their feats. As much as she longed to search for familiar faces in the crowd, Frankie found she had more pressing issues at hand - she didn't quite know who to pass on her list to, let alone where to find them, but the longer the mechanics went without adequate supplies, the more forts would be out of commission when it really counted.

Entering through the side door, her gaze scanned the room, landing on the first man she saw with a high-ranking insignia. Squeezing her way through the exhausted men who filled the place like bewildered sardines, she emerged beside the man, pressing the paper into his hand before he even had a chance to register her arrival. Turning his head to her, he looked almost offended by Frankie's presence.

"Supply orders for the mechanics, pass it up to whoever's in charge," She nodded firmly.

The officer shook his head, spluttering slightly. "I don't have time to deal with your shopping list, we've got-"

"No one ever has time for it, but suddenly it's my bloody fault when half of your planes don't fly because we don't have the fucking rivets - take it."

His mouth hung open, but she didn't bother waiting for him to formulate a response, vanishing as soon as she had appeared. Just as Frankie was about to leave again, she caught sight of Rosie among the returning pilots, a weight suddenly lifted from her shoulders. A smile spreading across her expression, she was about to call out to him, when Helen - one of the Red Cross volunteers she had grown somewhat acquainted with - crossed the room between them, the Captain's gaze following her without ever noticing Frankie, moving to follow out through the side door.

Frankie's jaw snapped shut, and she nodded to herself, continuing to make her way outside. It made sense when she thought about it. Helen was a nice girl - pretty - she was sure she'd seen almost half of the 100th ogling her at some point by now. Everyone needed someone to come back for.

They were talking on the edge of the grass as she left, and Frankie kept her gaze purposely averted, glancing down at her hands, which were already dirty. Helen probably never had filthy hands. She kept walking.

"Frankie!" A familiar voice called with its American lilt, and she turned, brow raised. Rosie was jogging up behind her, exhaustion tugging at his features, sweat-soaked curls sticking up at various angles like a startled bird.

"Hi."

He let out a huff as he caught his breath, mouth open to speak for a few seconds before he was actually able to find the words. "H-... Hi."

"You alright?" She asked slowly, gesturing to Helen, oblivious to the way he was smiling at her, the tiredness in his eyes washed out by pure relief.

Rosie followed her gaze, brow furrowing as he nodded. "Nash didn't make it. Him and Helen they were... they were close."

Suddenly Frankie felt so deeply, horrendously stupid that she was almost nauseous. "Jesus. Oh, I'm sorry, I just- I'm really sorry, Rosie."

He shook his head slightly, and she could almost hear his voice telling her not to apologise again. "He was a good kid. Are you ok?"

"Me? Yeah, yeah, I'm ok - shit, all I do is sit around and wait for the action to be over." As she spoke, Rosie's expression grew more and more concerned, and she could tell exactly what he was thinking.

"... Have they told you about-?"

"Cleven? ...Yeah. Ken's really beating himself up about it, I just don't know how they're gonna tell Bucky."

He frowned, and neither of them spoke for a long moment. Sucking in a deep breath, Rosie reached into his pocket, retrieving a slightly squished Red Cross doughnut that he'd wrapped in a napkin. He held it out to her.

Frankie's eyes widened slightly at the offering. "Oh! Oh, no, it's yours, I couldn't. My hands are dirty anyway."

"Who cares? I smell like I just crawled out of a donkey's ass," Rosie joked, and she let out a chuckle as he tore the doughnut in two, holding out the bigger half to her. She felt her cheeks warming up, and prayed the flush wasn't noticeable as she accepted his offering.

It was.

Rosie hid his smile behind the hand he raised to his mouth as he chewed, savouring the taste of sugar on his tongue as it soothed the hoarseness in his throat. "Hope we haven't left you with too big a mess to clean up," He said, brushing the powdered sugar from his fingertips.

Frankie screwed up her face, shaking her head as she finished chewing. "Nah, I've seen much worse. Glad you're back, s'all. Might actually get to bed at a sane time tonight, wouldn't that be something?" She grinned, and he found himself momentarily sidetracked by the smear of sugar that streaked her lip until she wiped it away, his thoughts once again coherent.

"It sure would be."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Rosie couldn't sleep. It was almost ten o'clock - barely late enough to class his sudden insomnia as problematic - but he found he simply had nothing else to do. As long as he was awake, the guilt of what happened to Nash, the guilt of simply making it back alive, tugged at him like a deadweight, and he was yet to find a pastime that worked as a sufficient distraction. His hope had been that an early night and a deep sleep would wipe his mind clear, or at least give him a few hours of peace.

But alas, it was not to be. Sitting up on the edge of his mattress, feet pressed against the cool floor, the idea of simply waiting for sleep to come, of drowning in his own thoughts until it did, seemed less and less appealing by the second. He got up, tugging on a jacket and some more socially acceptable trousers, and ducking out into the night air, the cool breeze hitting him as his curls blew back and forth.

It was quiet outside. Usually, on nights like this, you could barely walk ten feet without encountering a drunken airman staggering back from the pub, but it seemed the day's mission had soured everyone's spirits. With his hands in his pockets, Rosie strolled down the middle of the road, glancing at each Nissen hut as he passed, silently taking in his surroundings as a welcome distraction.

As he neared the women's huts, he spied another figure coming the other way, her blue uniform skirt swaying with each step, glowing embers dropping off the end of her cigarette as she tapped the ashes away. He was about to ignore her, when she called out. "Oi!" Brow raised, Rosie met the woman's gaze as she strode towards him, taking a final drag of her cigarette before tossing it into a nearby puddle. "You're Captain Rosenthal, right?"

He spluttered for a moment, taken aback. "Uh, yes ma'am."

The woman held out her hand, a smile parting her lipstick-red lips. "George Aarons. I'm Frankie's best friend, she's told me about you."

Suddenly it made sense. But wait - 'she's told me about you'? "Oh. Yes, hello," Rosie nodded, shaking her hand. "I think she has mentioned you."

George's brow furrowed, smirking. "She'd better have. If you're looking for her, she's still working on the hardstand," She added, beginning to continue her walk back to her hut.

He almost rolled his eyes. Of course she was. "Thank you, goodnight."

They had both begun to go their separate ways when her voice rang out in the darkness again. "Poppies."

Rosie turned, expression contorted in confusion. "Pardon?"

"Poppies," George repeated. "They're her favourite."

The corner of his mouth raised in a smile as he shoved his cold hands back into his pockets, beginning to stray towards the airstrip without even noticing.

He had only just made it to the runway, gaze scanning the dark horizon for any signs of life, when the road up ahead seemed to burst into flames, a roaring wall of red rising from nowhere. Rosie frowned, dashing forward, almost out of breath by the time he arrived, slowing gradually to a halt as he took in the scene before him.

The tarmac was indeed alight, the fire burning bright and high, but there was Frankie, sitting about fifteen metres away from the blaze in one of the rickety chairs from the mechanics' hut, a tartan blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

Rosie paused for a moment, taking several breaths to calm his panicked heart before he spoke. "So much for an early night."

She looked up at him, face bathed in the orange glow. She had barely reacted to his arrival, almost as if she'd been expecting him. "This is my last job for the night."

"What, arson?"

Frankie snorted. "No. I'm burning the oil off the runway - it's the best way to get rid of it all, you don't want it all over the place when the planes come in next time, otherwise-" She made a booming sound, imitating an explosion with her hands.

Rosie nodded, gaze cutting sharply between her and the inferno still burning away, the smell of fuel thick in the air. "So this is... this is all good?"

"I'm definitely not about to burn to death, if that's what you're asking."

He realised it was, and it made him feel a little stupid.

"There's more chairs inside," She added, gesturing to the nearby hut. "You can stay if you want."

Rosie's lack of sleep seemed a foregone conclusion by now, so he obliged, heading inside and collecting the chair with the least amount of wobbly legs and bringing it back to where she sat, maintaining a polite gap between them as he sat down.

The burning oil truly did stink, but the longer he sat there, the fire became quite beautiful, really. It was silent for a long time, nothing but the sound of the wind filling the air. Sometimes when it dropped, he could hear her breathing over the whoosh of the flames, but the sudden scraping of chair legs against tarmac tore through the quiet altogether.

"Can see you shivering from over there," She muttered, dragging her chair to close the gap between them, and Rosie realised he was still cold. He had managed to trick himself, to accept the fire's illusion of warmth, but in reality, his jaw had begun to chatter.

Frankie's blanket was huge - folded twice over just so that it wouldn't drag against the ground - and as she stood up he watched her unfurl it, the outline of her body silhouetted by the flames' light. She held out one corner to him, the opposite end firmly in her grip, and as she sat back down the fabric encircled them both, bracketing them together as he was warmed by both the blanket and her shoulder pressed against his.

Her hands remained firmly in her lap, clasped together as she fiddled with the blanket's fraying hem, gaze unmoving as it remained firmly planted on the blaze in front of them. Rosie stared at her face in profile for a moment, unable to suppress his smirk as he leaned back against his seat, just letting the moment be.

"I met George on the way over," He said quietly. Frankie seemed to light up at this, suddenly grinning as she looked up at him.

"You did?!" She beamed, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, yeah - she's nice."

"She is the best person in the entire world," Frankie asserted, nodding as if it were a universally acknowledged fact.

Rosie smiled back at her, letting himself lean back against her as she put her weight on his shoulder. "Y'know, I didn't know you could sing."

She scoffed loudly, throwing her head back in a laugh. "Now who the hell told you that?"

"Pappy said you sang with Egan at one of those parties."

Frankie wagged her finger as she spoke, so close to his face that he almost went cross-eyed from watching it. "Just because I did it, doesn't mean it was good."

He chuckled, their foreheads almost touching when he momentarily leant forward. "Alright, point taken."

"If there is one thing I do not have, it's musicality," She grinned. "I just make up for it with my myriad of other talents."

"And I would love to see those someday," Rosie teased, gasping mockingly as she thumped him in the shoulder. Without realising, they had both almost doubled over in their seats, practically cheek-to-cheek as their laughs echoed into the night air. He felt like he was drunk, although it had been days since he'd taken even a sip of alcohol. The stench of oil in the air had begun to subside, and looking up, they both realised the fire had almost wholly burnt itself out.

"Well, shit," Frankie murmured, her breath forming a cloud in front of her face as the temperature seemed to drop instantly, the air turning freezing as the last flame died. She shrugged her corner of the blanket away, rising to her feet, and for a second Rosie felt the urge to reach out and grab her wrist, tug her back down beside him. "Come on," She sighed. "You might have to fly tomorrow, I don't want you exhausted on my account."

He smiled gently at this, letting the blanket drape across his shoulders as he stood, picking up both chairs before she got the chance to take her own. Rolling her eyes, Frankie followed him to the mechanics' hut, keys jangling as she locked the door once everything had been stowed safely inside.

They walked side by side in the dark for a long while, nothing but the occasional barn owl overhead piercing the quiet. A new thought had begun to plague Rosie's mind, and he rolled it around in his head like a marble until he knew it needed to be released.

"Why do you do it?" He asked. She looked at him questioningly. "I mean, all the rest of the ground crew left hours ago, they always do, but you're always here. You must barely sleep, I don't get it."

Frankie frowned for a moment, and then shrugged. "The rest of the ground crew are Americans. It's different for us. Of course, everyone’s got skin in the game these days, but it is different. I mean, before the war I’d never even left Warwickshire, but they destroyed half of Coventry in one night - people walked with their kids and their bags to the closest town ‘cause their homes were just gone. Half the boys I grew up working the garage with are dead now. They joined up and now they’re never coming back... And almost anyone you ask around here has some link to someone who lost a home or died in the bombing raids. That’s why we’ll get up at the crack of dawn and work into the night, ‘cause we’re fighting for our homes.”

Rosie considered this for a while. There was nothing he could say to that. In fact, he felt rather silly for asking in the first place now. He'd joined up because he hated the Nazis - he hated what they stood for and what they believed in, and he wanted them gone. But they couldn't get him, not in his home. They couldn't touch his family. But the same just couldn't be said for people like Frankie. Every job they did, every hour they put in, it was all to maintain that desperate last line of defence, to protect the people they loved.

War was hell. War was fear. But it wasn't that kind of fear, not for Rosie.

He had been so deep in thought that he scarcely noticed when they arrived at the end of Frankie's row of Nissen huts, his footsteps following alongside hers without even thinking about it. Looking up from the ground, his eyes widened as he took in his surroundings for a second, barely a light left on as everyone else tried to sleep off the trying day.

"If I keep walking you to your door like this people are gonna start to talk," Rosie pointed out before he could stop himself.

Frankie shrugged, turning to face him as she began to walk backwards towards her hut, her hand skimming against his arm one last time. "I'd much rather they talk about you than Bucky," She grinned.

The place where her fingers had touched his arm seemed to tingle, and even through his jacket it was as if he could still feel her there, stuck frozen for a moment, mouth hanging open as his mind flailed to come up with anything to say to that. Nothing came to him. As she returned to her hut, he found he could offer nothing but an awkward wave, her giggle echoing in the night air as she waved back, disappearing through the opening in the door.

Rosie just stood there for a moment, passing his weight from foot to foot as he waited for his thoughts to slow down to an intelligible speed. He took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks as he ran a hand through his hair. He was a pilot, a damn good one - he faced death every day and it never rattled him, not once.

So what the fuck was this.

#masters of the air #masters of the air oc #masters of the air fic #mota #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #ken lemmons #oc: frankie #fic | i'm your man #oc: george

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ninjagobythenumbers · 2 months ago

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Timeline of Ninjago

Here's my speculation on what the timeline of Ninjago looks like. It happens to align with our timeline as, with the merge time skip, it now totals 13 years of in-show time. I understand it's likely poor quality, so here's it split in half. If anyone knows how to turn Google Sheets into an image file I'd appreciate it greatly.

I'd like to start with a note that, aside from the evidence I'll go through later in this post, this was largely a speculative timeline, so there were often ranges of time I had to choose from. Anywhere from a month to a year could have passed between some of these seasons. I tended to use the most conservative estimates. Thus, I sometimes like to think of my timeline as "at least this much time has passed between x and y events." Now for the evidence.

Dialogue

As you are likely well aware as a fan of the show, any sort of mention of an exact measure of time or age is exceedingly rare in Ninjago. However, fortunately for me there have been a few glimmers in the dark.

In season one, Cole mentions that the Blade Cup is an annual competition. This information would have proven useless if not for the fact that in Posession, when Cole finds the Blade Cup in Ronin's shop, he laments "my dad danced hard for this." As the cup would have belonged to the ninja in season one, Lou must have won the cup back in a later competition. Thus, at least a year must have passed between the Rise of the Snakes and Possession.

In Sons of Garmadon Cole once again helps me out by saying "it's been a year" in reference to Wu's disappearance at the end of Hands of Time.

In Hunted, Jay refers to himself and the ninja as "grown-up teenagers." For me, this means the human members of the core four are 18-19 at this point. This info may seem less helpful for a timeline, but just wait.

At the beginning of Forbidden Secrets, Wu says it's been months since the defeated the Oni.

This is only relavant for my "Zane's perspective" timeline but at one point in the Ice chapter, the Ice Emperor says to Lloyd that it had been "many... decades."

At the beginning of Master of the Mountain, Nya says to Jay that they had been gone a while and lists off the adventures of Forbidden Secrets and Prime Empire. This indicates to me that all three seasons had to have happened relatively close together.

At the beginning of the Island, Lloyd refers to a prison breakout having happened last month. Ungami freed all of the prisoners during Prime Empire. However, this time period mention had to be balanced by the fact that Misako had been missing for "several weeks" by the Island but was present during Master of the Mountain. My ruling here is that by last month, Lloyd is referring to for instance, August, which for me would have been 8 weeks ago at this point. An issue in my timeline is that the smallest unit I am able to mark is a month. Thus, even though it's likely that these 10 minute era seasons were closer to a week in length, I must mark them as a month.

In Seabound, when P.I.X.A.L. reveals the Hydrobounty, she says that she had been "tinkering with it in my spare time for the past several years." As P.I.X.A.L. only regained her body and access the Ninja's various workshops during Hands of Time, at least 3 years had to have passed between Hands of Time and Seabound.

In the first episode of Crystalized, the mayor and Gayle state that exactly a year had passed since Nya became the sea.

In Dragons Rising, there's many references to how years had passed since the merge including the existence of annual competitions and holidays. The most clearest one for me is when Nya says to Zane "it's been years."

When Kai first meets Arin and Sora he says to Lloyd "And who are the kids?." Because a teenager is unlikely to call other teenagers kids, I view this statement as meaning that Kai is probably in his mid-20s at this point, and thus at least 6 years had to have passed since Hunted, when Jay referred to them as "grown-up teenagers."

Lego Legs

The only clear marking we have of age in the show is when a character's legs are swapped out. This has happened naturally to 5 characters that I'm aware of: Nelson, Harumi, Arin, Sora, and Riyu (Technically Jordanna as well but it feels right to leave her out). I'm going to ignore what the leg sizes mean in other properties (ex: Star Wars and Dreamzzz (which recently revealed all the characters' ages which is crazy)) and stick to an interpretation that I think makes sense with Ninjago. These are the general age ranges, but they vary based on vibes. People are different heights of course. Child: -∞ to 11 Medium: 11 to 13 Basic: 13 to ∞

Harumi was really the foundation of this whole chart. The reveal of her backstory was extremely exciting as it meant there was a minimum time that had passed between seasons 1 and 8. To go with my "at least" general rule, I'll put her at the maximum child age (11) and assuming she's around Lloyd's age during season 8, at least 3 or 4 years would have had to pass between seasons 1 and 8, likely more.

Nelson is the only character that has gone from kid legs to medium legs. I sort of question whether teen legs are even being used anymore because as far as I know, we haven't seen them since. Either way, as they're so rare I tend to think of them as pre-teen legs for Ninjago. Thus, even if Nelson was at the max pre-teen age (13), similarly to the Harumi jump, at least 3 years or so had to have passed between Skybound and Secrets of Forbidden Spinjitzu. This turned out to line up quite nicely with the dialogue evidence.

Sora and Arin both had child-sized legs when the Merge happened. When we meet them in the present, they have adult legs. This means that they would have had had to go from at most 11 to at least 13. On a purely vibes basis, Sora acts a bit older than Arin so I put this jump at just over 3 years so that the both of them can fully make the leap from small to medium to basic legs.

Riyu makes the jump from a dog-sized dragon to a horse sized dragon. The latest we see him as a dog-sized dragon is in the Mech Shorts, which, according to Arin's pie competitions, takes place a year after the Crossroads Carnival. Going by my at least rule though, I still stick Blood Moon at just over a year after the beginning of Dragons Rising. This is mainly because I see the way legos grow as just one day >pop< they're bigger. No in-betweens. We don't know Riyu's age or the dragon life cycle and there's no medium legs to gauge time by. Thus, I think of the mech shorts as occuring the day before Riyu hit dragon puberty. However, I may put more time between DR and Blood Moon if I get any more information.

Vibes

I used the leg sizes and dialogue as guidelines I had to stick to. The final placement of the seasons on the timeline is based on vibes. As you can tell by my at-least rule, I didn't like to put a significant time-skip between seasons unless I have good reason. Truthfully, since seaosn 8, while I love timeskips I've been suprised each time like a year is said to have passed between seasons as the ninja can only be young for so long. I thought the close together temporally seasons of the 10 minute era was sort of the writers parking the brakes on needless timeskips, but then there was a year between Seabound and Crystalized. Also, of course, the Merge but at this point we seem to have stopped pretending the Ninja are teenagers so it matters less. Of course, we still have Arin, Wyldfire, and Sora so it will be interesting to see how fast time passes. I plan on going through the more speculative reasoning between why I placed each season the way I did, but I'd like to keep this post to more "concrete data" on the timeline. Thanks for reading this far! I'm sure I missed things, so do let me know if you have any additional evidence or suggestions! As a bonus, here's Zane's perception of the timeline.

#ninjago #spreadsheet #lego ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago harumi #ninjago zane #ninjago nelson #ninjago riyu

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autumnshighlady · 10 months ago

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I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 19)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Eris helps Nesta conquer her fear of fire

warnings: inner circle slander, MAJOR angst, Cassian hate

word count: 4.2k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: sorry for the short chapter (i mean it's still 4000+ words but its short for me lmao) but I'm already working on the next one but here's a Neris chapter! haven't updated this fic in too long, so I apologize. Enjoy and as always, tell me your thoughts and reactions!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18

read on ao3

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NESTA POV

Nesta gently stroked Athariel’s silver scales as the dragon snaked its head around her, vying for attention. The beast made a low cooing noise at her touch, and Nesta chuckled to herself. She remembered the mix of awe and fear she had felt upon seeing the dragons for the first time. Ancient and mythical beasts beyond her wildest imagination, in the flesh before her very eyes. And yet at this moment, Athariel was acting more like a puppy than a dragon.

“Some fearsome beast you are.” Nesta murmured as Athariel continued to purr lowly. She reached forward to scratch behind the dragon’s right horn, and Athariel responded by closing her eyes and pushing her head further into Nesta’s hand. “Spoiled creature.”

The sweet autumn breeze funnelled into the cave and stroked Nesta’s cheek. It was an unusually cold day. Even the thick wool layers did little to keep out the biting chill that seeped into Nesta’s bones. She shivered slightly, pressing closer to the dragon for warmth.

Eris had left about ten minutes ago to fetch something for today’s training session. As usual, he refused to elaborate, only giving Nesta a playful wink that he knew would send her blood steaming when she asked what he was going to fetch. Every few days, Eris dragged her to the dragon cave to train her magic. Even after her demonstration to Beron, Eris insisted they continue the practice. “Killing my father is going to take a lot more finesse than your display, my dear.” He had explained. “My father is not an idiot. He knows how to defend himself, you do not.”

As much as she hated admitting that she liked spending time with Eris, it pained Nesta to be away from you. Since the announcement of your engagement, you had been constantly pulled away by servants, planners, dress fitters, and courtiers in preparation. It broke her heart, seeing the life slowly drain out of your eyes with each passing day. She saw how you snuck desperate glances at her as you were shuffled off for wedding business, pleading for help through the bond. There was nothing that could compare to the pain of the helplessness she felt. Eris had sternly told her to keep it together, that she had a part to play and couldn’t interfere with your engagement yet. His father would be watching your every move, and if Nesta became too involved then everything would go to hell.

The thought of the two upcoming weddings made Nesta’s stomach churn. While she definitely got the better of Beron’s sons, there were still so many things about Eris that she couldn’t figure out. The Prince always had an angle to play, never revealing his next move until he was certain things would work out in his favour. Nesta could understand why he was helping her. Objectively, their marriage was a strong match. She had been raised by her mother for this exact role – a doting wife who appeased the males of the court, but one with a viper’s tongue who was able to hold her own and get exactly what she wanted. Eris would benefit from it too, having a Cauldron-made female at his side whose powers dwarfed any of those in his court.

But his angle with you was something Nesta couldn’t figure out. Helping you was a huge risk for him, one that placed both you and the Prince in danger. Throwing you out of the Autumn Court and delivering you back to Rhysand would have been the smart move for Eris, as it would have eased the tension between Autumn and Night after Nesta had slipped through Rhysand’s grasp. Helping you was a risk that Nesta couldn’t understand why Eris was so willing to take. She had tried probing him about it a few times, but he had always brushed her off.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Eris strode back into the cave, a bundle of sticks and wood in his arms. He dumped them on the floor, the clattering noise echoing throughout the dragon’s den. Morgoth’s massive dark head appeared from the shadows, emitting a low rumbling noise that shook Nesta’s bones as he sniffed his master. Eris chuckled, saying something to the dragon in a language Nesta did not understand as he stroked its nose.

She frowned at the pile of wood on the floor. “You went out to collect sticks?”

Eris smirked. “Brilliant observation, Nesta Archeron. You never cease to amaze me.”

She shot him a withering glare. “Prick. What do sticks have to do with training my magic?”

“Because it’s hard to train fire-related magic when you’re utterly terrified of fire itself.”

Nesta froze, panic rising in her chest. Athariel nudged her now-still hand, as if sensing her anxiety. But she kept a straight face and said evenly, “I do not know what you mean.”

Eris scoffed, bending down and arranging the sticks. “Oh, please. You flinch every time the hearth is lit. You look like you’ve seen a ghost whenever I use my magic around you. Deny it all you want, but I see right through you, my dear.”

She blanched at his words. His tone was not accusing nor angry, but casual and nonchalant. He wasn’t trying to put her down, but simply pointed out an observation. Nesta’s throat closed up as she realised just how much Eris truly picked up on. Not once did Cassian ever seem to notice how she flinched from every fire he lit, or how her room was always freezing and damp because she refused to use the fireplace. He had been too focused on fucking her to ever truly see through the front she put up.

“You do not have to tell me why,” Eris said, a bit softer this time. “But fear will distract you, and we cannot afford to have you distracted at this time. I will not force you to face this fear if you truly feel that you cannot, but I believe you are able to. You have already overcome so much, Archeron. Let this be just another obstacle.”

His gentle encouragement surprised Nesta, despite having experienced it before. She always found herself comparing his words to Cassian and the Inner Circle’s. The Inner Circle always gave her the illusion of a choice, two bad options with one worse than the other, forcing her to choose the lesser of two evils and end up going with what worked best for their agenda. There was no choice in training with Cassian, it was presented as something she simply had to do.

Eris, on the other hand, always offered her a way out – another option even if it was one that made his life more difficult. He would explain the upsides and downsides to each path with logic, not manipulation. It was something Nesta grew to appreciate. He never backed her into a corner, or wanted her to submit.

She hated how the way she was treated in the Night Court followed her around like a ghost, haunting her every move. Guilt churned in her gut every time she instinctively snapped at Eris, anticipating that she would be forced into something. To his credit, he did not appear phased by her reactions and would wave off any apologies. It was something the Inner Circle had never understood about her. Nesta’s life had been taken out of her hands when she was snatched in the middle of the night and forced into the Cauldron. She did not choose to become fae, and now suddenly she had an immortal life ahead of her and no idea what to do with it. Yet her choices in the Night Court were never her own. Someone always decided what was best for her, rather than letting her figure out this transition at her own pace.

But Eris always gave her a choice. Nesta knew Eris wanted her to overcome her fear of fire for everyone’s sake, and she trusted him enough by now that she knew if she said no, he would drop the subject rather than push her buttons. So she took a breath, staring at the pile of sticks the Prince had assembled. “Ok,” She said. “I’ll do it.”

*********************

Half an hour later, Nesta’s breath was slightly less shaky. Her back was pressed against Athariel’s silver neck, the heated scales of the dragon adding extra warmth against the damp autumn chill. A small orange fire blazed a few feet in front of her, that haunting snapping noise echoing throughout the cave. It took every ounce of self control Nesta had to not panic, taking deep breaths to try and push down the bile in her throat.

Eris sat beside her, his arm ever so slightly grazing hers. He had spent the past thirty minutes monologuing about anything and everything, a welcome distraction to help Nesta focus on something else other than the crackling of the fire. He told all types of stories, ranging from tales of the ancient beings in Prythian to recounting the time Lucien accidentally killed Eris’s favourite fish by taking it out of the water to get fresh air. Nesta had not chimed in, but let out a snort at the latter story. She had seen Eris smile out of the corner of her eye. A true smile, not his usual arrogant smirk. It made her heart flutter, seeing the autumn Prince so relaxed.

As time passed, the less Nesta flinched at the noises from the fire. Her body began to relax, and she saw less of her father’s face across her mind and began to appreciate the beauty of the orange flames. They still unsettled her and if she could smite them out this second she would. But she no longer felt the urge to crawl out of her own skin.

“... And I ate every last bit of that so-called ‘birthday cake’ Lucien made,” Eris rambled on, following another story about him and his youngest brother. “It was ghastly. Every bite made me want to hurl my guts up, but my brother looked so young and proud of his creation that I couldn’t hurt his feelings. Although he has always been a slippery little bastard, so part of me wondered if he was just playing innocent and deliberately made me a disgusting cake on purpose to see if I loved him enough to pretend it was good.”

Nesta laughed, truly laughed at that. She turned her head to meet Eris’s gaze. He made no jibing remark about how rare a laugh like that was for her, like Cassian would have done. He simply smiled, the orange light of the fire casting artful shadows across his pale skin.

“Eris,” Nesta began hesitantly, the noise of the fire fading into the background. “Can I ask you something?”

The heir shrugged. “I am an open book, Nesta Archeron. Ask away.”

She snorted. “Ok, well we both know that’s not true.”

“If you want to know my deepest darkest secrets, my dear, all you have to do is ask.” Eris purred. Nesta’s blood heated at his velvety voice, and she pushed herself to focus.

“What happened to Lucien?” She asked. “I was never told much about him, even by (Y/N). All I know is that he was in the Spring Court with Feyre when she was there, and he was in that room in Hybern with the Cauldron. And that he’s Elain’s mate and is now bouncing between the mortal lands and the Night Court.”

Eris sighed. “It’s complicated, Nesta.”

“I’m just trying to understand his role in all of this.”

“Including if he would be a good mate to your sister, am I correct?”

Nesta swallowed her sadness. She had tried not to think about Elain these past few weeks. The memory of finding out Elain had been the one to pack up what little belongings she had in her apartment stung like a fresh wound. “No,” She corrected Eris. “Because I appear to be the only one from the Night Court who likes to think of him as his own person, not just Elain’s mate. Who Elain chooses to be with is no longer my concern.”

Eris nodded. “Very well. Lucien is the youngest of my brothers, and my father was especially cruel to him. What I am about to tell you cannot leave this cave, understood?”

Nesta nodded, curious.

“Lucien is not my father’s son. My mother had an affair with Helion, the High Lord of the Day Court. I figured it out quickly, but my mother always denied it. My father had suspicions but no proof, so he took every opportunity he could to punish Lucien. He hated that Lucien never cared about his royal status, and that he frequently made friends with individuals that my father deemed unworthy – (Y/N) included. One day, he met a lesser faerie named Jesminda. When my father found out about it, he had two of my brothers hold Lucien back as he executed Jesminda right in front of him.”

Nesta chose her words carefully. “Were you… were you there?”

Eris looked at her sharply. “Yes, I was. But I refused my fathers request to kill Jesminda, so he did it himself. It is the only thing I have ever refused him, even to this day. And I paid the price for it.”

“What did he do to you?”

“That matters not. Once I was released from the dungeons, my spies informed me that my father was planning on killing Lucien. I knew my brother was smart and would flee to the Spring Court, so I alerted Tamlin to the situation. Tamlin found Lucien at the border and killed two of my three brothers that had been sent after him to slaughter Lucien on our father’s orders.”

Nesta picked at a thread on her sleeve and asked dryly, “Let me guess, Malgorm was the one who escaped Tamlin’s claws?”

Eris snorted humourlessly. “Yes. Somehow, Malgorm always finds a way to escape death. It’s incredibly annoying.”

“Does Lucien know what you did for him?”

“No. He does not. And it does not matter if he did know, it would not change his hatred for me.”

A sadness overtook Eris’s eyes that pained Nesta. With a sick feeling in her gut, she knew looking at Eris was like looking in a mirror. Two eldest children with a cruel parent, twisted and moulded into their parent’s perfect creation. Nesta knew that Feyre would always see her as their mother’s favourite, but never knew just how much Nesta suffered underneath her. How Nesta would plead to the universe every night that their mother would turn her attention elsewhere because neglect was better than cruelty to her. Feyre did not know that her grandmother had beaten her, or that her mother had pulled Nesta’s hair until she cried and deprived her of meals to keep her thin. Nesta had never told her, not only for fear of showing weakness, but because she knew that Feyre had been so neglected she wouldn’t truly be able to understand that their mother’s attention was not something to be desired.

And Eris was the same. All the tales Nesta had heard of him portrayed the male as a worse version of Beron, a perfect eldest son and soldier for the High Lord to wield like a sword. But he had done so much to protect his younger brother, and just like Nesta, had never told him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to fully understand it. They were both disliked by their youngest sibling for being their parent’s prized pupils, oblivious to the whole story. Even though Eris had not answered her question, Nesta knew that what Beron had put him through was a thousand times worse than anything her mother had done. Deep down, she knew that Eris was just as broken as she was. Their main difference was Eris had centuries of practice in masking it, whereas Nesta did not.

“You’re not a bad male, Eris.” Nesta said softly, her gaze lost in the warm amber of his eyes.

“You hardly know me.” His voice was bitter, the aloof arrogant mask he wore threatening to slide up and hide the vulnerability Nesta had seen in his face moments ago. “I’ve done horrible things in the name of my father, Nesta. Things that would make you run back to the Night Court if you knew.”

“I don’t judge people for what they had to do to survive.” Nesta insisted, her voice even. “You may have your own secret agenda, Eris, but you’ve treated me better than most people have in a long, long time. Do not think I don’t appreciate that.”

Eris laughed, and the haunted look was shoved from his face. “My dear, how you have been treated is appalling, even to me. Let’s not have that be the standard, I beg you.”

“How do you know I didn’t deserve it?” Nesta said before she could stop herself. It simply slipped out, the guilt that had been shoved down her throat by the Inner Circle ever since she became fae entrapping her words once again. It was an exhausting uphill battle. Every day, she told herself that she was right to flee the Night Court, to try and make a life for herself outside Velaris. But every day those seeds of doubt wriggled their way into her thoughts, trapping her inside a web of self hatred that she had fought so hard to get out of.

“Seriously?” Eris said incredulously, eyebrows raised. He shifted so he was facing Nesta, and he took her still trembling hands in his own. “Tell me, what criminal, abhorrent offence have you committed to warrant being treated like shit and locked up?”

Nesta’s throat was dry. “I didn’t try and help my family like Feyre did when we were in poverty.”

Eris shook his head. “You are the eldest daughter, not the parent. It was not your responsibility to provide for your family.”

“I was mean to Feyre on several occasions.”

“You’re sisters, that’s supposed to happen. You should hear the vicious things my brothers and I say to each other.”

“I spent a ton of Rhys’s money on alcohol, drinking myself stupid every night.”

“Please, that male has more money than anyone I know, my dear. I assure you his bank account was not dented in the slightest.”

“I slept my way through the city after the war.”

“Everyone in that little Inner Circle has fucked more fae than anyone I know. Your number is nothing compared to theirs.” Eris said calmly. “All I’m hearing is that a newly turned fae female was traumatised after being dragged into a brutal war she did not ask for, and found unhealthy yet very normal ways of coping. So tell me again, what actual horrid thing have you done to deserve any of this?”

Tears filled Nesta’s eyes as she listed her sins, the crackling of the fire fading into the background. She knew Eris was right, his logical mind soothing her anxious one. Talking about it with Eris was different than talking about it with you. You had been just as angry as Nesta had, forced into the same situation as her and kept in the House of Wind against your will, the Inner Circle using the fact that they had saved both your lives as leverage to make you do what they wanted. You were someone who Nesta could rant to about it and get angry, letting that hatred she felt out to someone who knew exactly what she meant. But Eris was different. He rationalised her thoughts, providing a different kind of reassurance.

She couldn’t stop the tears that fell down her cheeks. Nesta bit her wobbling lip, trying to keep more from spilling out. Eris released one of her hands, bringing it up to her face and gently brushing the tears away. “They’ve done a number on you, haven’t they?” He murmured softly, cupping her cheek. “What are you thinking right now, Nesta Archeron?”

Nesta inhaled deeply, pressing her face slightly harder into Eris’s warm hand. The smell of smoke and forest engulfing her senses. “That I am scared,” She admitted. “For so many reasons. I am scared that Cassian will find me and steal me back to Velaris. That everything we’ve done has all been for nothing. I’m scared that your father will find us out somehow and kill us all. I’m scared for (Y/N) and her engagement to your awful brother. And I hate myself, Eris. I hate myself for who I’ve become not just because I am now fae, but because the person I was before the Cauldron would not have given in and trained with Cassian. I… I am afraid that with this new immortality ahead of me I will not recognize the girl I used to be, and not in a good way. I hate that I have let the words of people who barely know me cut this deeply, and I am ashamed of it.”

Eris continued to use his thumb to brush away the fresh tears on her cheeks. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “You have had a difficult hand dealt to you, Nesta.” Eris said softly. “And they should have known better. Do not be ashamed. For anything. Just know you have (Y/N), just as you have me. We will not let the Night Court take you, I swear on my mother’s life. Your mate cares for you, and I… I care for you, too.”

Nesta opened her mouth to respond, but a strange sensation in her chest stopped her. It suddenly felt like she was falling through space, the stars overhead spinning around her as she plummeted towards a strange light. She gasped, and felt Eris tense up as well. In her mind, she saw her silver flames dancing towards orange ones. They intertwined, braiding together and forming a magical rope-like appearance. Nesta reached down in her mind, her heartbeat racing as she grabbed a hold of it. She peered down to where the flames had extended to, seeing a flaming silhouette on the other end, her silver flames surrounding it affectionately.

And so she reached forward, extending a mental hand into that flaming silhouette.

And Eris gasped.

Nesta’s eyes shot open, and she lurched back from the Autumn Prince’s touch. Eris’s face was ghostly pale, and he was panting as if he had just fought off a hundred soldiers at once. Athariel hissed behind her, not happy to be awoken by the sudden movement. Her mouth was dry. She had felt this feeling before, but with you. That flaming rope she had followed felt the same as the pull of the tattoo on her sternum.

The mating bond.

The flaming silhouette at the other end of the magical rope was Eris Vanserra. Nesta’s mind reeled, her body threatening to combust with the feeling inside her chest. She could only stare at the male before her in shock.

Estelle said fae can have more than one mate, but Cassian is not one of yours. Your words rang in Nesta’s head like a bell, making her feel dizzy. No, she thought. This isn’t possible. You were her mate, how could this happen? There was still that strange feeling in her chest from Cassian, which confused her even more. The feeling of one mating bond within her was overwhelming enough, but two? Nesta didn’t know if she could survive it.

“Eris…” His voice was like a prayer on her lips, sounding completely different than the previous hundred times she had said it. It was like a song, carrying over to the shaken autumn prince and snapping him out of his trance.

“Nesta.” Her blood sang at the sound of her name, silver flames sparking from her fingertips in response.

“Like calls to like…” She muttered, recalling Eris’s repetition of the phrase. And then it dawned on her. Eris had consistently told her that like calls to like, and she had thought he was talking about their similarities in magic.

Fury rose within her, drowning out everything else. “Did you know?” She hissed at Eris.

The male’s eyes were wide, and he stuttered. “I–”

“Did you fucking know?” Nesta growled. “Is this the only reason you agreed to help us? So you could use the bond to trap me. Is that what you wanted? To keep me prisoner here, just like your father did to your mother?”

Eris blanched, flinching like he had been struck. Nesta felt it, the blow of her words, as if she had been punched in the chest. “I swear, I did not know.” Eris pleaded. “Nesta, please, you have to trust me. I had no idea about this.”

Nesta rose to her feet, her entire body shaking. She climbed onto Athariel’s back, nudging the dragon forward with her heels. Athariel grumbled, but got to her feet and began to crawl out of the cave. Her hands shook as she held onto the dragon’s horns. She stared down at Eris, who appeared paralyzed in shock as he looked up at her. Nesta’s voice was cold as ice as she said, “I don’t believe you.”

And as Athariel spread her wings and took to the sky, Nesta had not noticed the fire had gone out completely.

taglist (comment if you want to be added): @queercontrarian @kitkat-writes-stuff @moonfawnx @sevikas-whore @weird-and-wise @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @kingshitonly @ladyofcherries @eerievixen @readingwritingwatching @peacecoffeeandflowers @a-frog-with-a-laptop @shadowqueen25 @lana08 @highladyofillyria @rachelnicolee @ladespedidas @little-darlingo @manonblackbeakquidditchteam13 @demirunner @terorovaerangi @hauntedandhopeful @younxii @microwaveallthedemons @fanfictioniseverything @lovra974 @maddietheshoe @peaceandcrackers @emy1-9 @lostinfantasyworldsbi @issybee0611 @thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid @belledawnidk @whhyyynottt @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @littlebbb @piceous21 @sevendeadlyshins-blog @searchingford @marigold-morelli @thesapphiclibrarian @nikovasbitch @chasing-autumns-chill @the-sweet-psycho @

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wolfjackle-creates · 2 years ago

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My Writing Masterpost

List of Subscription Posts (Follow for Tumblr Notifications on any of my fics.)

Good Omens:

The Demon Piper: Crowley is in Hamlin, Germany in 1284 and offers to help the children of the town. They take him up on it and the legend of the Pied Piper is born.

AO3, 24k words, rated T

An Evening In: Human AU. Aziraphale has a bad day and Crowley promises to make it better. PWP

AO3, 18k words, rated E

Carry On: After the garden, the First Family has to find their way in the wider, more dangerous world. But Heaven and Hell aren't ready to leave them alone so Crawly and Aziraphale tag along. When Cain has the idea to sacrifice the best of his harvest to God, Abel also wishes to sacrifice the best of his lambs.

God chooses Her favorite and the First Family is left to pick up the pieces as best they can.

AO3, M rating (Prequel to The Demon Piper)

DP x DC Fics:

Bring Me Home: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and when Danny's parents take his reveal poorly, Tim helps get him safe.

Tumblr prompt fill, 3.5k words, M rating (for fandom typical violence)

Subscription Post

Alternative Reunion: This is an alternate way the original fill could've gone if Tim hadn't been there to get Danny out, but Danny still managed to escape to Gotham.

Rewrite - Friend Request (Arc 1): AO3; Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Silver and Gold (Arc 2): AO3; Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

Arc 3: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Ghost!Robin Haunts Jason AU: Jazz is dating Jason, so she and Danny are invited to dinner at Wayne Manor to meet the family. Danny arrives and meets Jason for the first time only to be distracted by the ghost of the dead Robin that is hanging off of him. T rating

Original Prompt (and collab fill), Subscription Post

Arc 1: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

Arc 2: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Answer My Call: (Wrong Number AU) Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

T rating (might go up to M for fandom-typical violence)

AO3 Link

Subscription Post

Tumblr Links: Original Prompt and Fill, (actual) Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Part 1, Part 2

I'll Carry Your Heart (Until I Find You Again): Danny and Jason meet in the zone after Jason's death. They become friends (and more). But Jason doesn't think it's enough. He finds Desiree and wishes for his life back. But for every wish, she exacts a price.

Chapter 1: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Danny's Arc: Part 1

The Two Ghost Motel: Danny is tired.

Endless ghost fights with too many responsibilities and too little time; he barely passed sophomore year. When Ember visits town for a bit of fun, she mentions the Two Ghost Motel, a place of peace and refuge for restless ghosts who aren't ready to cross over.

“I’m fine, Ember.”

Danny’s got a home and friends. He’s fine, really.

But when his parents begin experimenting with electricity to destabilize ghosts, it’s too much for Danny. Unfortunately, neither Sam nor Tucker can host him for the night and he’s left wandering in the night, alone. Then he sees it: The Two Ghost Motel.

He checks in.

“Welcome.”

AO3

Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Behind the Fortress Walls: Jazz is in love with Dick. He’s kind, considerate, and caring. Far and away the nicest person she’s ever dated.

But she’s lying to him. About so, so much. And he’ll hate her once he learns the truth. Assuming he doesn't get tired of her canceling all their dates first.

When Danny and Ellie go missing, the latest in a series of ghostly disappearances, she's forced to cancel another date. Going to Elmerton to meet up with Tucker and Sam, she will get Danny and Ellie back from the GIW no matter what it takes.

Only…they aren't the only ones breaking in.

T rating, 32k words

AO3

Want to Hold on and Feel I Belong: Danny is finally settling into his new life with the Waynes and loves them. But then he finds out their secret identities. The Justice League works with the US Government. And the US Government funds the GIW. He won't go back to them. He won't.

Tumblr Links: Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

AO3 Link

Subscription Post

Empathy Verse: Jazz literally runs into someone outside the library when she's distracted. She's about to apologize when she feels the ghost-empathy radiating off the stranger. Instead she relaxes into his embrace.

Tumblr Link: Parts 1-5

Something to Feel: Danny moved to Gotham for university. However, the lack of other ghosts in the city is leaving him restless. He needs to get away from people and let off some steam.

Then he meets another halfa in the park. They're about to start fighting when Danny realizes their might be a more fun way to vent their frustrations.

Rating: E (smut)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Remember, Remember: Danny is a failed clone of Dick by the Court of Owls. Erasing his memory, they threw him out onto the world where he eventually got adopted by the Fentons. If the portal accident somehow knocked loose the mental block hiding his memories… Who knows what could happen.

Tumblr Link - 1k

AO3 Link - 1.3k

Electricity: Danny Phantom has been brought into the Justice League and it's great!

Or, well, it would be if Danny could be paired with anyone who wasn't an electricity user. The post-mission panic attacks are getting old and Jazz is worried.

Tumblr Link - 1.5k, T rating

AO3 Link - 2.4k, T rating

School Nurse!Danny: Danny gets a job as the nurse at Tim's school. He recognizes the type of injuries Tim comes in with almost immediately but doesn't say anything, happy to patch him up in the office or let him take a nap when needed. Until Red Robin decides to go out in costume the day after Tim was in his office with a broken arm. Looks like he has to call a parent-nurse meeting.

Tumblr Link - 1.6k words, G rating

AO3 Link - 2.7k

Memes!!!

Kidnap Buddies: Tim and Danny are both kidnapped in Gotham when the goons couldn't figure out which black haired, blue eyed boy was Tim Drake. They bond as they're locked up and Danny uses is powers to help them escape.

T rating, 1.6k, complete. Tumblr only currently

No Place Left to Hide: Danny is on the run. He wants nothing more than to see his family, but they're out of his reach at the moment.

Then he sees a magazine article and accompanying photo of Damian Wayne. His long-lost twin brother.

Maybe he does have some family he can check on. Just to spy from a distance, of course. Getting too close would only make his situation worse. But when he gets caught in the halls of Gotham Academy, he might not have a choice in the matter.

Tumblr, AO3

T rating, 3.1k, complete

Solved with a Touch: Danny and Damian Twin AU. Danny seeks out refuge with his birth father after he is forced to leave Amity. But he and Damian just cannot get along. So much time has passed and both of them have changed so much that they just cannot figure out how to reconnect. Until Dick forces them to go to a carnival together and they get hit with Poison Ivy's cuddle pollen.

Tumblr only, T rating, 2.8k

Johnny and Kitty overshadow Batman and Superman: What it says on the tin. Danny thinks the Justice League is expecting him to take care of the ghost problem in Amity alone. But when he goes to Gotham apologizing profusely for letting Kitty and Johnny get past him, the heroes have no idea who he is. Or why he was left to deal with a problem so severe on his own. As a teenager.

Half filled prompt, opening scene with Danny rushing to Gotham. Then it skips ahead to the heroes discovering the state of the Fenton household in Amity.

Attack on Sight: Demon Twin AU. Danny is in Gotham with his parents and Jazz when he sees Damian. League instincts kick in and the two are at each other's throats before Jazz or Dick can intervene.

Tumblr only, 1.1k, G/T rating

Constantine Bingo: Danny is being introduced to the Wayne's as Jason's boyfriend. During dinner, he gets notice that he won that round of Constantine Bingo.

Tumblr prompt fill, 873 words, G rating

Stalker Danny: Jason is being stalked and threatened by some sort of pit demon. Danny hopes the new halfa he just came across will accept his courting gifts.

Tumblr prompt fill, 764 words

Justice League Mechanic!Danny: When Danny applied for his position as civilian engineer with the JL, he filled out the demographic information stating he was a half ghost. Apparently, a number of the heroes didn't get the message and are freaked out when his heart stops beating or he puts a pause on the whole breathing thing.

1,060 words, T rating

DC Only

Obligatory Truth Serum Fic: Tim Drake gets captured and injected by a truth serum. Now he has to escape both the up-and-coming villain and his family before he can be asked any questions he doesn't want to answer.

2k, G rating

Something Next to Normal: Tim's having a regular day at school when a classmate ropes him into helping with the school play as the light technician. Tim agrees to one rehearsal, but his responsibilities as Robin keep him so busy. He knows he'll have to turn down the position.

Then he learns what Next to Normal is about. Tim absolutely cannot do this.

Meanwhile, Alfred is proud of Tim for taking on an extracurricular. The boy spends so much time alone. Having an excuse to spend time with other students his age can only be good for him.

He wants to go see the show, but Tim counsels against it. After looking it up, Alfred spends a night in sleepless grief.

But when day comes and he's face-to-face with Tim, he realizes the living boy in front of him needs him and something has to change.

11k, M rating

#masterpost #my writing #fanfic #good omens #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc comics #batfam #fic names are not set in stone

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nami-moittli · 28 days ago

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Okay, jojo’s timeline specifically for my Combined Universe, I got most of these dates from the jojo wiki, some are estimates and some I just made up because I wanted a concrete date 👍

I find it funny that all of the parts are like, ranging from about a month to around 4 months, then there’s just Golden Wind clocking in at EIGHT FUCKING DAYS

Some of the ending dates are a bit weird based on if you want to end it when the main villain is defeated or the extra bits after that. Same with the Starting dates, I wasn’t sure where to start some of them, but this is what I’ve got. The parts are listed in chronological order, with the exception of JoJolion, but that’s because part 6 is longer than part 8 so like wtvr.

Part 4 DOES start in April but I couldn’t find any concrete details on how to try to find the exact day it started, so I just asked my friends for a random date, and got the 22nd

Also, JoJoLANDs starts in about 2022, anything other than that is for when there’s more than only 19 chapters lol

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fallinginvictus · 7 months ago

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WIP Wednesday Andrew & Aaron Time Loop AU [part 1/4]

8ish years post-canon (aaron at the end of his first year of residency)

time loop fic where aaron dies of an overdose and andrew keeps waking up on the morning of his death and tries his best to save him

tw for this specific chapter: character death, mention of drug addiction, mention of relapse, mention of drug overdose, dead body

Part 2

CHAPTER ONE

It's Tuesday, 8 May at 15:19 in the afternoon when Andrew's phone rings, the soft voice of a doctor on the other side, the words coming out of her mouth venomous and wrong, lies that Andrew can't comprehend, can't accept.

Stop lying, he wants to tell the counterfeit doctor.

Neil is at an away match on the other side of America. Nicky is an ocean away. Andrew is alone, standing in the middle of his living room with a dislocated shoulder, the now silent phone still clutched in his aching hand, spiders crawling under his skin, making their way into his throat, into his lungs, stopping the air from entering his body, his mind going numb, his brain unable to make sense of the three words circling in his head, bouncing around his skull: Aaron is dead.

“Aaron is not dead,” he says to the empty room, to a God he doesn't believe in, to the orange cat sunbathing on the windowsill.

Andrew was never one for denial, he found the whole concept silly and immature. If something happened, what's the point in lying to yourself and denying the cold hard truth? What's the point in delaying the inevitable?

And yet there he stands, the truth sounding like a lie, reality looking like a cruel and humourless joke, denial grabbing him by the throat and choking him out.

He walks to his room in a trance, throwing clothes and underwear into a black duffle bag without even checking if the clothes are clean, if they are his, he just takes anything that he can get his hands on and throws it in the bag until it's full and then he closes it.

Look after the cats, he texts Jake-the-neighbour as heads to his car.

Andrew had never much cared for the guy but Neil liked him and that was enough for Andrew.

The drive from New York to Boston is only 4 hours, Andrew had driven much longer just to meet Neil when they were in different teams, in different states, and yet none of those drives had ever felt as long as the one that is going to bring him to his brother's cold and lifeless corpse.

Every other car on the interstate seems to be moving in slow motion and Andrew wants to scream at every single one of them. He tightens his hands on the wheel, wondering why he needs to go faster, why he needs to speed. Aaron is already gone, his body already cold. It won't matter at all how long he takes to get there. It won't matter if he gets there in five minutes or five days, the outcome will be the exact same.

As he passes through towns and fields, Andrew wonders when Aaron had relapsed. How long had Aaron been lost to drugs before his death? How many times had he relapsed throughout the years without ever telling Andrew? How many times had he picked himself up on his own, alone in Boston?

“You are the one who wanted freedom,” he mutters, stuck in the 6 pm traffic as he lays his head on the steering wheel. “You are the one who wanted this.”

They hadn't talked much in the past nine years. Aaron hadn't talked with anyone much. He had left Palmetto State and the rest of them with it without ever looking back.

Nicky would always cry about it, about Aaron's lack of contact, about his distance, about his unwillingness to get mixed up with the Foxes after graduation.

“Oh, Mr. Harvard is too good for us now? Can't even show his face for one dinner?” Allison had said once while they were having dinner at Wymack and Abby's housewarming party.

“He's probably just busy,” Nicky had defended him, his eyes tired from the 10-hour flight from Germany that he had taken just to be there for their little reunion, knowing how hard it was for all the Foxes to be free on the same day.

“Yeah well, we are all busy.”

Once, Nicky had called Andrew while he was still crying after he had gotten in a huge fightwith Aaron about his indifference, about his distance.

“He never even texts,” Nicky had said. “Did you know that he and Kate broke up two years ago? Two fucking years Drew. Of course you didn't know either because he never tells us anything at all. It's like we don't exist anymore to him.”

That bastard had done his best to distance himself from them just so that he could have his perfect and normal life just to then go and overdose on some stolen morphine.

What a humiliating way to go.

So much for a perfectly normal life.

The traffic in Boston is a nightmare, red lights that won't turn green, green lights that always turn red, endless cars imperfectly lined one after the other waiting for their turn to finally move past a traffic light just be immediately stopped by another, lawless intersections that Andrew thinks will be the death of him.

Andrew has always hated driving in the city and Aaron knew that. He could've at least overdosed in a farm out of town and spared Andrew the headache. What an asshole.

He stands outside the hospital for a few or a hundred minutes, listening to the ambulances’ sirens as they race behind him, looking at the people who are walking in and out of that imposing white building, the first rays of sun already starting to sink into the horizon, the sky turning dark.

When he finally walks inside, a nurse in yellow scrubs gasps loudly as soon as she sees him, the tablet in her hands slipping to the ground while she looks at him pale-faced and wide-eyed.

“I'm so sorry,” one of her colleagues says while running to her side and pushing the stunned nurse away. “You look just like Dr. Minyard.”

“As twins often do,” he replies without blinking, the nurse's reaction shaking him more than he thought it could.

“Of course. You must be Andrew. I'm Nurse Mary.”

He just stares at her in silence as she stares back at him as if she were looking at a ghost.

Andrew wondered how he will ever be able to look at himself in the mirror again.

“Are you going to bring me to my brother or are you going to stare at me all day?”

“Yes. Of course. I'm so sorry. Here, follow me,” she says as if coming out of a trance before turning towards the other nurse. “Tell Dr. Allen that Dr. Minyard's brother arrived.”

Andrew had been expecting white hallways, white tile floors and white walls illuminated by bright white lights, instead he's met by green and yellow hallway walls, little animals like rabbits and deer and butterflies painted all around, flowers made of paint blooming in every corner.

“This is a children's hospital,” Nurse Mary says as if Andrew had asked.

“I know,” he replies because he might've lost contact with his brother but at least he knows that much.

They walk in silence for the rest of the way, Andrew unwilling to entertain any form of conversation, unable to let words come out of his mouth, incapable of interacting with the world outside of his mind.

He wonders if Aaron had even thought about the consequence of his relapse. If he had thought of his career, of the future that he had worked so restlessly to achieve.

If Aaron was going to throw it all away anyway, he could've at least avoided making Nicky cry.

“He's here,” Mary says while stopping in front of a white door. “We haven't brought him down to the morgue yet. We were waiting for you.”

Andrew just nods.

“We all knew he was-”

“I didn't ask,” he replies. “You can leave”

“Of course. I'm sorry,” Andrew can tell that there is still something stuck on the tip of her tongue that she so badly wants to say, but he doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't want to hear how everyone knew about it, how Aaron hadn't managed to escape from his past, how he hadn't been able to achieve that normal life that he had always yearned for.

He waits until the nurse is gone and then another few more minutes before he finally pushes the door open and walks inside the dim room.

There is a bed on the right, it's empty and white and perfectly made.

There is a bed on the left, white lines pulled over a body, gloomy and silent and perfectly still.

Andrew walks quietly towards the occupied bed and then stops for a second, his cement-stuffed shoes anchoring him to the ground, his metal-filled bones weighing him down. He feels like he's trying to run in a dream, trying to walk on quicksand, Aaron's silhouette so close to him and yet so impossibly distant.

The quiet of the room is deafening, the grains of dust falling and dancing in the air in slow motion suddenly starting to look beautiful and interesting and making his eyes stray from his brother's dead body.

He doesn't want to look at it. To look at him.

He wants to run.

He wants to open that door and never have to look at his traitor of a brother again. He wants to spit in his face and curse his name, curse his short existence and meaningless departure.

He removes the sheet from Aaron's face and gently caresses his cold and icy cheek, his fingers grazing over his once-soft skin, over his long hair.

“You are so stupid,” he says. “I hate you so much.”

He stares at Aaron's motionless face, trying to remember the last time he had seen it flushed red, the last time life had still been cursing through his body, beating in his chest, shining in his eyes.

It had been so long. Too long.

He can't remember the last words he had said to Aaron, can't remember the last conversation they had. He can't remember what Aaron had said or if he had smiled. (Aaron never really smiled.)

It had been spring back then too, Andrew and Neil were in Boston for a match. They had met at a coffee shop. Andrew can't remember what Aaron had ordered. They hadn't talked much, feeling like strangers who had once lived in each other's pockets, two people who knew so much and yet so little about each other.

Aaron had left in a hurry with an I'm sorry, I'll text you.

Andrew had said nothing in reply.

“We didn't even say goodbye,” he whispers as that knowledge slams into him like a fast-moving train. “I hate you.”

His phone vibrates in his pocket but he doesn't even notice, his left hand resting on Aaron's blond hair as his right moves on top of his chest, searching for a beat that he knows he won't find.

“After all we did for you, how can you throw it all away just because you wanted to get high? How could you do this to us? What am I supposed to tell Nicky now? You know how much he loves you,” a moment passes, words that he had never said to Aaron trying to crawl their way up his throat, their sharp claws scratching it raw and leaving a trail of blood behind. “I love you.”

His breath hitches and his hands shake as he tries to take a hold of himself, as he tries to swallow those words back down, the taste of metal invading his mouth.

“I said I love you. So come back now,” he begs the silence and only the silence replies.

Aaron doesn’t move, his eyes remain closed, his chest unmoving.

“What do I tell Nicky?” he whispers to himself as he sits on the wooden chair next to the bed, his left hand softly holding Aaron's ice-covered hand while taking his phone out of his pocket with his right.

From: neighbour

not a problem at all!!!

I hope everything is alright :)

u don't have to worry i am GREAT with kitties

From: 0Neil

where are you? why did you ask jake to look after king and sir?

He wants to call Neil, to ask him to drop everything and meet him in Boston, but he knows it wouldn't be fair to tell anyone before telling Nicky.

If there was someone in the world who had gently and unconditionally loved Aaron, it was him.

If there was someone in the world who would fall apart at the news of Aaron's death, it would be him.

Andrew wishes there was another way to do it. Wishes Nicky didn't have to hear of Aaron's death the same way that Andrew had: from a voice through the phone.

“Andrew, is everything alright?” Nicky answers after letting the phone ring five times.

“Are you home?”

“It's 1 am of course I'm home and also sleeping,” he says on the phone before adding quietly. “It's Andrew.”

“Erik is next to you?” Andrew asks because he needs someone to be there with Nicky. He wouldn't survive the news if he were alone.

“Yeah. What's going on?”

“Turn on the lights and sit on the bed with Erik next to you.”

“Andrew, it's so late and Erik has to get up from work in like, five hours. Can't this wait?”

“Just do as I say, Nicky,” he gritts out as he holds Aaron's hand. “And tell me when you are done.”

He can hear a little commotion on the other side, the rustling of covers as they are being moved, german words he can't understand, someone sighing in annoyance.

“Okay, we are now sitting on our bed with the lights on like two idiots.”

“Hold his hand.”

“Andrew-”

“Just do as I say.”

“You are scaring me.”

“Are you holding his hand?”

“Yessir.”

“Nicky,” is all that comes out of his mouth, the rest of the sentence drowning in his chest before he can get it out.

“Is something wrong with Neil?” Nicky asks and Andrew can hear the worry in his voice, the gentleness in his tone.

“It's Aaron,” he spits, the acid-filled words burning his flesh on their way out.

“Aaron? Is he sick? What's wrong?”

“He's dead,” he says as if those words aren't about to make Nicky's whole world crumble to the ground.

“He's not dead,” Nicky says with a chuckle. “I texted him two months ago and he was fine.”

“Nicky,” Andrew breathes out. “He's dead.”

“He was fine so how can he be dead now? That doesn't make any sense Andrew. Don't be silly.”

“He relapsed. He overdosed early this afternoon.”

“He went to Harvard. He's a doctor in one of the best children's hospitals in the country. He's a doctor, Andrew. He's happy. Why would he relapse?”

“Because he's a drug addict, Nicky. That's what they do.”

“Shut up. Not Aaron. He's clean. He can't be dead. Please. We didn't- I didn't even-” and then all he can hear through the phone are a series of sobs being pulled out of Nicky's chest as he falls apart on the other side of the phone, on the other side of the world.

“I'll take care of him and book the first flight for Boston,” Erik says as Andrew listens to Nicky falling to pieces before the call ends.

He stares at Aaron for a few seconds, his hand still softly holding Aaron's, “You see what you did? You made Nicky cry again. How is he supposed to move on from this now?”

His phone vibrates again as it rests on his legs.

From: 0Neil

reply?

I just need to know that everything is okay

To: 0Neil

I'm in boston

come as soon as you can

aaron's dead

From: 0Neil

I'm coming right now

Andrew looks at Aaron's face one last time, his fingers hovering over his icy cheek for a few seconds before placing a kiss on his forehead, something that he had never dreamt of doing when Aaron's forehead was still warm, and then he covers him with the white hospital sheet.

“Where are his things?” he asks Nurse Mary once he reaches the nurses’ station.

“My God,” another nurse whispers in the background. “They look so similar. He looks like a better and healthier version of Dr Minyard.”

A better version of Aaron.

Andrew snarls at those words.

That's not how their lives were supposed to turn out. Aaron was supposed to be the better twin, the one with his life together, the happy and normal one. How had things turned out like this? Why was Andrew the one with a normal life and Aaron's lifeless body was lying in a hospital bed under a white sheet?

“Here, I'll take you to his locker.”

The staff changing room is closer to the nurses’ station than Aaron's body is and to Andrew's relief, is also empty.

“You can put his things in this bag,” the nurse says as she hands him a plastic bag. “Number 13. It's already opened for you,” she stands there awkwardly for a second. “Goodbye then.”

“Who do I have to invite to the funeral?” he asks her before she can walk out.

“I'm sorry?”

“His close friends. Who was he the closest to? Who must I invite to the funeral?”

“Oh,” Nurse Mary says awkwardly as she fiddles with her hands. “Dr Minyard wasn't really- he didn't really have any friends here. Or anywhere. I'm sorry I don't- He just didn't really talk with anyone and always kept to himself. Dr Allen always says that he's his favourite prodigee, that he will become a great doctor but that he's not really a fun person to be around. He's great with patients just not-” She stops talking, realising how rude her words may sound to a grieving family member. “I'm sorry.”

“So nobody?”

“I'm sorry.”

“Whatever.”

Something breaks in Andrew at those words, a pain that he can't place, that he can't understand.

He had always imagined Aaron living a happy and normal life, laughing with his colleagues while eating lunch at the hospital cafeteria, having a drink after work at a bar near the hospital, spending the holidays around a table full of people while laughing about something that had happened at work the night before.

He always thought Aaron had left them behind because he had built a new life for himself, that he'd left them behind so that he could build himself a perfect life surrounded by normal people.

He doesn't know what to do with the image of an Aaron who had no one in his life, who spent all of his time either at work or at home alone, who never laughed and never smiled. Andrew wonders if he had ever even known his brother at all.

Was it the absence of people in his life that made him relapse, he wonders, or was the fear of relapsing that kept him away from people?

There isn’t much in Aaron's locker, just a yellow stethoscope, a white coat with a yellow sunflower-shaped pin, his house keys, a box of assorted teas, a pair of spare scrubs and a set of cutlery. He picks everything up and throws it in the red plastic bag, a piece of paper falling to the ground as he does so.

He kneels on the ground to pick it up but his hand stops in mid-air as soon as he realised what it is: a picture of the Foxes during Aaron's third year of college, their orange uniforms bright under the sun, smiles painted on almost all of their faces, Wymack and Abby standing by their side.

“What the fuck Aaron,” he asks closing his eyes for a second before picking up the worn-out picture and staring at it for a few seconds, a confused expression on his face, his heart beating loudly in his ears.

He can't stop thinking about that picture the whole drive towards Aaron's apartment, questions swirling inside his brain as he almost blows through a red light.

Aaron's new life, now that Andrew got a glimpse of it, looks a lot different than what he had imagined and he just can't understand it. Nothing makes any sense and there is no one left who can shed light on it because the only person who could make sense of it is now dead.

Aaron is dead.

Andrew wonders how he's supposed to move on with his life with those words always swirling in his brain.

Aaron's house is fifteen minutes away from the hospital, the building modest but well maintained, Aaron's apartment on the sixth floor.

He stands in front of the door for a few minutes delaying the inevitable as if it would change the outcome. He has been doing a lot of that the past few hours.

He used to always dive face-first into any situation, no matter the cost, no matter the consequences.

Aaron's death is something he's unable to face. Doesn't want to face.

Aaron's bed is still unmade when Andrew opens the door to his bedroom, dirty clothes scattered around the room, empty boxes of ramen piled near the full trash can, sheets of paper covering the floor, open books piled on top of more open books on his desk.

Andrew wonders when was the last time Aaron had cleaned up the room as he opens the window.

When they lived together, Aaron was clean and neat, he used to hate when Andrew left clothes lying around and when he didn't wash his dishes. He would clean his room once every other day without ever leaving even a pen out of place. Even when he was so high he could barely remember his own name or understand where he was, he would always take the time to fold his clothes and put his shoes in their right place before going to bed.

Andrew wonders what had changed.

He sits on the bed, on Aaron's bed, his body heavy, his tiredness bone-deep, and closes his eyes for a second, Aaron's freshly washed hoodie next to his head, the scent of honey and lilies invading his senses, Aaron's pale face right behind his eyelid.

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

It's the sound of his own alarm that wakes him up again, a cat jumping on the bed and resting on his chest as the annoying and incessant sound of his alarm clock keeps ringing in his ears.

Andrew's eyes snap open.

He's lying under his light green covers, in his own bed, in his own house, King purring on his chest, waiting for Andrew to pet him like he does every morning, Aaron’s pale face still dancing behind Andrew's eyelids, his lifeless hands and unmoving chest tattooed on Andrew's brain.

He grabs his phone from where it's charging on the nightstand to look at the time but what catches his attention is the date written in big white letters on his phone screen: 7:09 am, Tue, 8 May.

Had it been just a dream? Just a cruel creation of his own imagination? But it had felt too real to be nothing more than a nightmare. Andrew can still recall every second of yesterday, of today, every step he took, every move he made, the way Aaron's cold skin had felt, the way his moonstone-white face had looked. How could it have been nothing more than a figment of his own fucked up imagination? How could it all have been fake when he could still feel the ache in his heart, so real and tangible?

He dials Aaron's number five times before his brother finally answers, his voice like a stab to Andrew's heart.

“What? Is something wrong?” Aaron asks as soon as he picks up the phone, worry clear in his tired voice.

Andrew wants to scream at him, to never speak to him again.

“Are you still clean?”

“What?” Andrew can hear the disdain in Aaron's voice but pointedly ignores it.

“Just answer. Are you still clean?”

“Yes, I am. Almost 10 years.”

“Do you feel like using again?”

“No?”

“Good. Don't,” Andrew says before hanging up the phone, Aaron's voice too painful to hear, the memory of his death too fresh in Andrew's mind even if it had been nothing more than a cruel dream conjured up by his treacherous mind.

Andrew finally feels like he can breathe again.

Eight hours and ten minutes later, Andrew's phone rings again, the soft voice of a doctor on the other side, the words coming out of her mouth venomous and wrong, lies that Andrew can't comprehend, can't accept.

Not again, he wants to tell the counterfeit doctor.

Neil is at an away match on the other side of America. Nicky is an ocean away. Andrew is alone, standing in the middle of his living room with a dislocated shoulder, the now silent phone still clutched in his aching hand, spiders crawling under his skin, making their way into his throat, into his lungs, stopping the air from entering his body, his mind going numb, his brain unable to make sense of the three words circling inside his head, bouncing around his skull: Aaron is dead.

“This can't be happening again,” he says to an empty room, to a God he doesn't believe in, to the orange cat sunbathing on the windowsill.

Andrew was never one for denial, he found the whole concept silly and immature, but how he can he be relieving the worst moment of his life for a second time? Is he lying in Aaron's bed trapped in a nightmare? Has he died and gone to Hell, forced to relive the worst day of his life for the rest of eternity?

Andrew was never one for denial and yet there he stands, the truth sounding like a lie, reality looking like a cruel and humourless joke, denial grabbing him by the throat and choking him out.

Look after the cats, he texts Jake-the-neighbour as heads to his car in a trance, his mind lost in a fog he can't disperse.

The drive from New York to Boston is only 4 hours, Andrew had taken the same exact path yesterday, he had cursed at the same exact people he is currently speeding past.

Andrew can feel his hands tightening on the wheel and he wonders why speeding. He has already seen Aaron's lifeless body lying in that dim hospital room. He has already stood by his bedside and held his cold hand, has already felt Aaron's icy skin under his warm lips. It won't matter if he gets there in five minutes or five days, the outcome would be the exact same.

The traffic in Boston is a nightmare, red lights that won't turn green, green lights that always turn red, endless cars imperfectly lined one after the other just waiting for their turn to finally move past a traffic light just be immediately stopped by another, lawless intersections that Andrew thinks are going to be the death of him.

Andrew has always hated driving in the city and Aaron knew that. How dare he make him drive through it for a second time? What an asshole.

He walks inside the hospital as soon as his car is parked, the sound of the sirens as they race behind him loud as he bumps into the people who are walking in and out of that imposing white building, the first rays of sun already starting to sink into the horizon, the sky turning dark.

When he walks inside, the nurse in yellow scrubs gasps loudly as soon as she sees him like she had the day before, the tablet in her hands slipping to the ground as she looks at him pale-faced and wide-eyed.

“I'm so sorry,” nurse Mary says while running to her side and pushing the stunned nurse away. “You look just-”

“I know,” he says, walking past her and heading towards the room where Aaron is resting.

“Oh- wait,” the nurse says running after him. “I can take-”

“I know where he is.”

“That's okay,” she says, trying to catch up with him but remaining silent as they walk in the right direction.

“You can go,” he says as soon as they reach the white door.

“Well, alright,” Mary says a little flustered. “My condolences.”

Andrew doesn't wait for her to leave before walking inside the dim room and closing the door behind himself.

He ignores the bed on the right, immediately heading towards the one occupied by his brother's body. The quiet inside the room deafening as he removes the sheet from Aaron's face and gently caresses his cold and icy cheek, his fingers grazing over his once-soft skin, over his long hair.

“How can you do this to me twice?” he asks the silent corpse. “That's cruel Aaron. That's just too fucking cruel.”

He looks at his brother for a few more seconds before shaking his head. “Is this some kind of divine punishment?” he asks towards the sky. “This is not fair. It's not fair.”

He covers Aaron's unloving face and walks out of the room and towards the doctors’ changing room as quickly as he can.

He wishes he could bleach his brain and remove the image of Aaron's lifeless body from his memory but he knows it will haunt all of his dreams, all of his waking moments.

“Wow. He looks like a better version of Dr Minyard.”

“Mr Minayrd-” Marys says.

“I know. Locker thirteen,” he interrupts her before entering the changing room and taking only Aaron's house keys and the Foxe’s picture out of the locker before bolting out of the hospital and speeding towards Aaron's apartment.

He doesn't know what he's doing, what he's looking for, what he's hoping to achieve, he just keeps looking all over Aaron's house as if he could find a solution there, an explanation.

“What am I supposed to do?” he asks the empty house and receives no reply, a picture of him, Aaron and Nicky during their graduation staring at him from its silver frame.

He lies on Aaron's carpet, the picture in his arms, staring at the bright light on the ceiling until his vision becomes blurry and there are black spots in his eyes.

It's the sound of his own alarm that wakes him up again, a cat jumping on the bed and resting on his chest as the annoying and incessant sound of his alarm clock keeps ringing in his ears.

Andrew's eyes snap open

#aaron minyard #andrew minyard #twinyards #all for the game #the foxhole court #fanfic #fanfiction #ff #aftg #aftg fanfic #wip wednesday #all for the game fanfic #twinyards time loop au

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sinner-sunflower · 7 months ago

Text

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 16/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

It's time we get back to the angel duo.

To those re-reading the fic on ao3, you'll notice some dialogues or descriptions have either been added or changed so it's not an exact replica of the chapters here. It's like little easter eggs of what I didn't get to put back then.

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Gabriel: How dare you, Michael!

In an obscure corner of Heaven, sat the six remaining Archangels, engaged in a heated debate over what had just transpired between Michael and Lucifer and the Fates. The atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. It's as awkward as you think being Emily and Sir Pentious in the room who seemed to fade into the background amidst the chaos.

The moment the others arrived, any semblance of order was thrown out the metaphorical window as questions upon questions were asked all at once. Sir Pentious stood rigidly at attention, though his efforts went unnoticed by the bickering Archangels. He's stiffer than Emily and she...

Emily has never been in a situation as tense like this before; even counting the disastrous court hearing with Charlie.

Since her creation, she had always been told that these are the most fearsome angels in Heaven; that they are both merciful and merciless, especially when it comes to protecting Heaven.

Sera: We strive to be like them, Emily. Our actions must all lead to one goal: safeguarding Heaven.

Emily: But Lucifer was their brother!

Sera: Those in power are always faced with harsh choices. And they stay in power because they can make those choices.

Emily: I still don't understand.

Sera: As Head Seraphim, I am also faced with constant challenges. But I do it all to protect our home. But you, you are still learning. And for now.. this shall be my burden to carry.

Emily: But.... What if I mess up?

Sera: That is why I will teach you, Emily. You still have so-

Emily: No! I mean.. The stories said that Lucifer was their most precious brother but he was still cast down. So what I mess up, Sera?

Sera: What?

Emily: Will you cast me down too?

Sera never did give her answer.

Uriel: How could you keep this from us, Michael? Do we not deserve to know such vital information? Especially when it's about our dear Samael?

Michael: I understand you're all angry. But I only found out mere days ago. I kept coming back just to check if my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. I wanted to be sure-

A resounding bang echoed through the room as the Archangel of Healing forcefully slammed his palms onto the table, causing a collective flinch amongst everyone.

Rapahel: Bullshit! You were going to keep this all to yourself again; just like everything concerning Samael!

Jophiel, who is next to him, is rubbing circles in her brother's back in an attempt to calm Raphael down.

Jophiel: Given your track record concerning our little brother, we have every right to doubt you right now.

Camael: I think what they're trying to say is that you should've told us the second you found out. It doesn't matter if you're not sure, we can be there to help you figure it out. Something as concerning as Samael's death... that is not something you keep for as long as you should have.

Sir Pentious: Lucifer.

A sudden quiet fell over the assembled angels as their attention shifted towards the unexpected source of the interruption.

Emily stares at Sir Pentious is slight horror because her new friend just interrupted the Archangels' conversation.

Camael: I'm sorry?

Emily: Sir Pentious! You can't speak to them like-

But the snake only repeats himself.

Sir Pentious: Hisssssss Majesty's name isssss Lucifer.

For an agonizing minute, no one spoke. Whether it's because of Sir Pentious' correction or their presence, Emily isn't sure.

It was Michael who broke free from the collective stupor. With a weary sigh, he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, the weight of responsibility present upon his face. Emily braced herself, anticipating a reprimand for their intrusion, but to her surprise, the Sword of Heaven merely nodded in acknowledgment.

Michael: He's right. We can't keep disrespecting Sa- Lucifer's wishes even if he isn't here with us.

That broke whatever freezing spell the others had, confusion now paints their features.

Gabriel: I'm sorry who are these people?

While that question was directed at Michael, the Archangel of Wisdom directed theirs on the two of them.

Uriel: Who are you?

Emily: I'm uhm Emily, Your Heavenly Grace. I'm the Seraphim in training under Sera.. and this is Sir P-Pentious. Our uh newly redeemed soul from Hell.

She said the last part almost in a whisper but it seems like they all heard it nonetheless because they are now looking at them with pure disbelief.

Camael: Redeemed?!

Jophiel: From Hell?!

Raphael: Are you saying that this was once a sinner soul?!

Sir Pentious took a bit of an offense to that.

Sir Pentious: This has a name. I am the great Sir Pentiousssss, inventor and former resssssident of the hellish realm!

Uriel: H-How is that possible? Were you planning on keeping this from us too, Michael?

Michael and Emily both stood up so fast at that accusation.

Michael: No! I only knew of this today!

Emily: He didn't know!

The Messenger of God only raised an eyebrow at this and crossed his arms, a silent gesture to explain further.

Michael falls to his chair looking more tired than ever before.

Michael: Apparently, this soul arrived here months ago but the Head Seraphim chose not to mention anything to me or any of you.

Emily: Sera just wanted to know how it happened before telling anyone but with what happened that last... extermination, I think she was afraid.

Gabriel: She had the right to. What was she thinking?! First approving of this yearly genocide behind our backs and now this redeemed soul?! Tell me, young Seraph, are there any other secrets you're keeping from us?

Emily: I-

As multiple eyes manifested across the Archangel's form, a tangible sense of unease swept through the room. Michael then made a decisive move, positioning himself firmly between his brother and Emily, a silent but unmistakable gesture of protection.

Michael: There's no more, Gabe. Aside from this soul's-

Sir Pentious: ehem

Michael: -sorry, Sir Pentious' current redeemed status, Sera knows as much as us. Isn't that correct, young Emily?

Emily: Uh- Yes! We have no idea how, he just showed up in a beam of light suddenly. Please believe us.

As Uriel also positioned himself in front of Gabriel, his gaze a silent warning, Gabriel relented, reverting to his usual form and taking a seat, the tension visibly vanishing from his posture.

Michael gives him a silent thank you and controls himself.

Michael: Young Seraph, as much as we are delighted to know that redemption is possible, with the threat of a war hanging upon us, it is too dangerous right now to grant new souls in. We cannot do anything about the current human souls that is entering our gates but we can control those coming from Hell. So we can't let it be known for now- in Heaven or in Hell.

Emily understands but she still felt anger bubbling inside her. This is supposed to be good news! They finally told the top angels and they still need to keep it a secret? Charlie would be so hurt not knowing that her dream is becoming a reality.

Raphael: Damn the war, Michael! Our baby brother is going to die! I am not gonna make the same mistake twice by choosing Heaven over my own sibling. Never again.

Gabriel: What he said.

Emily can't count anymore how many times the Head Archangel had sighed throughout their encounter.

Michael: I know. I would like nothing more that to prevent that. But.. this is the Fates.

Uriel: ...He's right. We all know that even Father can't change what has already been woven.

Jophiel: So what? We just sit here and let Lucifer die?

Michael: Lucifer does not want our help. And we cannot stop Fate. This war will happen and Lucifer will perish in it.

Camael: Then what can we do?

Michael: We delay it.

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

Forgive me if it's a bit messy.

If you can't tell this is kind of in Emily's POV.

I love Sera okay but if I kept a secret as messed up as a genocide, I would probably refrain from telling my bosses that we there was probably no need for it anyway after finding out that redemption is real.

I'd also like to think that the Archangels are just as emotion-driven as Lucifer but only in front of their family. Anyone outside of them sees them as stoic and cold (that's why that is how Emily sees them).

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nanaminokanojo · 8 months ago

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BAD NEWS | CHAPTER INDEX/PROLOGUE (Part 1-64)

-just when you thought you were over your humongous crush on your older brother’s best friend, geto suguru, you couldn’t be more dead wrong, and maybe there isn’t really anything holding you back from acting on it now that you’re all grown up…except satoru doesn’t like suguru for you because he knows his kind all too well: a huge ass playboy who breaks hearts like he changes socks. but you think. MAYBE you’ll be the exception...maybe not.

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts; just skip them. you’re not missing much | mentions of alcohol, drugs | mentions of cheating, promiscuity, mild dubcon (consent >>>), etc. | again, god-awful pet names i’d cringe at if a 3d person says it | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

AKI’S NOTES: I would like to express my sincerest thanks to everyone who loved and supported “Thawing Ice Queen” as well as those who participated in the poll on which smau I’m going to write next. So, this is what won in said poll, and I hope it gets as much as love as TIQ if not more. Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated, and I actively respond to comments as well as Asks. Also, if you’re interested, I will include you in the tag list. Just message me through whatever avenue you’re most comfortable with. Happy reading!

ADDITIONAL NOTES: i will be using pics and other media which would fit situations and make the smau-ness of this piece a little more realistic and entertaining when i believe it’s appropriate/fitting to the plot (as i've done with TIQ). having said that, with regard to inclusivity, i just want to put it out there that they will not necessarily be aimed as the exact descriptions to fit a supposedly generic reader nor will they be representative of a specific race or color (even if you’re/the reader is gojo’s sister here). it’s all for the simple fact of media availability, for funsies and the fact that i don’t exclusively write in consideration of those aspects when using reader-insert characters unless i specify it. thank you for understanding.

MASTERLIST

CHAPTERS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30

31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45

46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60

61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | CHAPTER INDEX II

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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doctorjuvenile · 4 months ago

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Things from WtA The Book of Hungry Names you should know pt. 2

pt. 1 here

I'm about to start my fourth playthrough lol

5. The coordinates Daphne sends you for investigating the Pattern Line are a real location in Northampton, Massachusetts.

> I’m willing to let you condescend to me if you’re willing to help me out CrestFolder180IQ Your terms are acceptable. CrestFolder180IQ Meet me at 42°25'50.3"N 72°40'49.3"W at 10:30 PM.

Right at the tip of this path. (sooo IRL Garou meetup when?)

6. By my best estimates, the game takes place over the course of 2022-2024.

Now, the game plays pretty loose with exact dates, and I'm sure the ambiguity is intended. What we know for sure though is that Book of Hungry Names takes place over two and a half years (from beginning to epilogue).

Nonetheless, because I'm obsessed, I'm basing my assumption off of some strong hints:

The game definitely takes place after the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic, since Stormcat literally refers to it once you're in the second half of the game (foreshadowing the Jigsaw Plague chapter)

Will Northampton be ground zero for the next pandemic? Even I do not know.

2) Honestly, my biggest clue here are the years Melodie and Harmonie graduated high school (2016 and 2013 respectively), and the fact that she is 23 when you retrieve her from Ashfield.

Harmonie Palys graduated Berkshire Regional High School in 2013. Her sister, Melodie, graduated in 2016.

Melodie, who is twenty-three, angrily sips her Kir Pamplemousse.

Going off of the North American education system (where I myself graduated high school in 2014, and am presently around 27 years old), and assuming no skipped or repeated years, Melodie should be about 25 by the game's epilogue, which must take place in 2024. Harmonie would be 28 if she were still alive today.

Working backwards, that means it's 2022 in the first half of the game (where Melodie is stated to be 23). The timeline just works perfectly.

3) In the second half of the game, Nin will "talk your ear off about the new Blood Ceremony album." The album (The Old Ways Remain) dropped in 2023, thus further perfectly fitting in with the 2022-2024 timeline.

7. Speaking of guessing character's ages, I have a good idea of the rest of them...

Elton: I tried guessing Elton's age and he's anywhere from 24-26 over the course of the game to 29-31. My clues here are how you can find a picture of him and Katherine in a newspaper after arriving in Northampton early on and researching in the library. The photo states he's 19, and the photo itself is "maybe five to ten years old."

...the picture is labeled "Linus Harrowman, 46, Elton Dey, 19, and Katherine Aslanian, 20, have opposed the Broad Brook expansion, which would--" Then it turns into a more randomized babble. The photo is in color, the newspaper maybe five or ten years old.

Player Character: I am certain your character starts the game at 20 years old. The ID Daphne gives you shows your real age, which is below the legal drinking age in the U.S. (i.e. 21), but by the time a year passes in-game, you are now able to drink legally.

[Early game:] To your considerable irritation, the birthdate on the ID is the same year as your real birthday, which means you can't get into most bars. [Second half of game, one year later:] Armed with your Massachusetts State ID that finally says you're 21...

You, Podge, and Nin: Regardless, the whole pack drinks together in the epilogue at the last Hog Throne show, implying your entire pack is now at least 21 (legal American drinking age). So by this point, I think PC is 22, and Podge and Nin are legally 21, meaning they would be about 19 or 20 at the start of the game.

8. Intelligence isn't just tied to your book-smarts or occult knowledge, it also influences whether you can catch pop cultural/musical references.

I mean, my first two characters (galliard/December and theurge/October) had good-to-excellent INT (3-5pts), so the text described Elton's Mezzanine shirt, Highlander halloween costume, Podge being dressed up as the girl from the "Everyday Is Like Sunday" music video, Nin's Sophie Scholl hoodie, etc all by name or direct reference.

But I noticed with my third ahroun (January) character, whom I deliberately kept at 1 INT the entire game, that she didn't catch ANY of that -- the Mezzanine t-shirt is a "white t-shirt with a black insect scrawled across half its surface," she thinks Elton is dressed as the Scarlet Pimpernel, that Nin is maybe wearing a hoodie with her own face on it, etc. (You can get some pretty funny extra dialogue out of being so clueless.)

This makes sense when you consider that your Academics and Intelligence tutor in this game is a badass art teacher who used to be in the '90s demoscene.

#wta #werewolf the apocalypse #book of hungry names #melodie palys #elton dey #please i need an update on the DLC or more portraits pLEASE #maybe last of these posts until Dustborn or Reckoning of New York drops

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gabatronnie · 7 months ago

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,, request prompts !!

these are for people who know they want to make a request but don’t have an exact plot and/or reader in mind!

fluff ~

1. “there it is, there’s that cute smile! i knew you had it in ya!”

2. “don’t worry, i’m staying, for as long as i need to.”

3. “PILLOW FIGHT.”

4. “is that my shirt?”

5. “i’m just glad you’re okay”

6. “just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

7. “you’re a terrible influence.”

8. “i know we’re not… friends or anything. but if you just need to cry, i get it.”

9. “i don’t hate you.”

10. “you’re pretty -“ “pretty stupid”

11. “i’ll spend a thousand lifetimes coming back to you.”

12. “it’s cold, take my hand, my body heat can warm you up. y’know, cause i’m taller.” “hey!”

13. “you got me flowers?”

14. “ha! you fell on your ass!”

15. “they get annoyed about how often i talk about how much i love you”

16. “you fucking dumbass! just be careful, okay?! i’m kinda sick of worrying about your safety! i love you too much to think about it!”

17. “may i have this dance, my fair lady?”

18. “you look so good in my clothes”

19. “come back to bed”

20. “i love you, but that’s gonna get you killed. not literally though.” “then why can’t i do it?!”

21. “love, can you calmly and politely shut the actual fuck up?”

22. “your my mom loves me, let’s go make cookies.”

23. “thank you, for never giving up on me.”

24. “i think i’m in love!” “who’s the next victim, and how are you gonna torture them this time?”

25. “yeah, i have massive feelings for you, but moving on from that…”

26. “you took all the blankets, asshole. so now, you’re filling the gap, you ARE my blanket.”

27. “did y-you just…kiss me?”

28. “when we get home, you’re in big trouble, missy!” “i won’t in as a big trouble as your big ass, love.”

angst ~

1. “i’m sorry, i hurt you, i can’t promise perfect. but i can promise effort, hon.”

2. “please don’t leave me.”

3. “thank you, but our chapter has ended. but that doesn’t mean i don’t love you anymore.”

4. “let’s just become strangers again.”

5. “i hate you for what you did.”

6. “i’m not your problem anymore.”

7. “I don’t owe jackshit!”

8. “does it ever stop hurting? i mean the wounds on the inside, on your heart, on your soul, love.”

9. “make it stop, please baby. it hurts…”

10. “all you’ve ever done is hurt me.”

11. “you wanna hurt me? go ahead. i already know how it all feels. it doesn’t matter anymore, i’ve given up.”

12. “if you’re going down, so am i. there’s no happy life without you in it.”

13. “i hate knowing you’re hurt, please, tell me i can fix it. even if it’s only once.”

14. “i’m out of empathy for you! fuck you and your privileged ass!”

15. “we’re over.”

16. “everyone wants to hate me, why can’t you be different?”

17. “i don’t need you! why are you still here?!”

18. “just go away!!!”

19. “when will i ever be enough?!”

20. “i can’t look at the night sky anymore, it makes me think of him/her too much…”

21. “come back… please…”

22. “it’s okay, peace has been made, that’s all i wanted. now it’s my time.”

23. “hug me until my eyes pop up because i’ve been crying since four in the morning!”

24. “was it all a lie?”

25. “i’ve lost so much there’s nothing else left.”

26. “i’ll see you on the other side, dearest love.”

27. “i tried so hard to trust you! and i know it wasn’t for nothing! stop being so cross!”

28. “i should’ve trusted you, i’m sorry i didn’t.”

29. “i’m just mad, okay!? i’m beyond pissed i’ve ruined my only chance!”

smut ~

1. “never tease me like that again.”

2. “i’m not fucking done with you. bed. now.”

3. “i’m tearing that dress/suit off the moment we’re alone.”

4. “you’re a lot less quiet when i’m fucking the shit out of you.”

5. “and go, be a good girl and spread your legs, okay baby?”

6. “such a naughty little slut for me/us, adorable.”

7. “cover your mouth one more time, and we’re stopping. i wanna hear you.”

8. “b-but, i wanna see you too. don’t blindfold me, i-i wanna see your face.”

9. “look at you, you’re already shaking, it’s been less than a minute.

10. “crazy, naughty girl. who do you think you are?”

11. “keep your hands on me, don’t let go.”

12. “i’ve always thought of us kissing, but i never thought i’d actually fuck you.”

13. “i’m gonna touch you until you beg.”

14. “you’re more than a fling, my dear.”

15. “you’re so sensitive, i almost feel bad.” “am not!” “oh really? then how about you ride me until you fall to your knees?” “u-uhm…”

16. “you make such sexy noises, hot stuff.”

17. “keep acting up, i dare you.”

18. “fuck me senseless and pin me to the bed, i can’t wait any longer.”

19. “if you keep staring at me, we won’t get to make a baby. or six.” “h-huh?!”

20. “don’t be too loud, or else the others will hear.”

21. “listen to me, you little whore. you’re gonna do exactly what i tell you to.”

22. “i am this close to ripping those clothes off you myself.”

23. “you have ask first, sweetheart.”

24. “sorry, was i drooling? i just really want to bang you right now.”

25. “go on, i wanna see what your mouth can do.”

26. “lay it on me, or in me, but you get my point.”

27. “the outfits great, but i really wanna see you without it on.” “but you told me to buy it?” “i meant i wanted to see you naked.”

28. “i don’t care how good it feels, don’t cum until i say.”

29. “give me a baby. for two reasons, firstly, i wanna fuck you. secondly, i wanna bang you.” “that’s the same thing!” “no, it’s two different words.”

#{🎀} GABI’S REQUEST PROMPTS #request prompts #dialogue prompts #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #sapphic blog #smut #fluff #angst

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