#dear god just please i want the truth of this case can you avoid calling me a scrunkly for like

[iguana-eyanna]

The Beauty Within Everything

Pairing: preserum! Steve Rogers x 1940s! reader

Summary: reader thinks Steve stood her up on their date but realizes he’s very ill

Warnings: illness, decline of physical health, angst

You were walking on the sidewalk, fuming with every step you took in your heels, cursing under your breath to whoever invented these shoes.

You were on your way to confronting Steve, your boyfriend, at his place.

You think back to the first time you met Steve at a park. You both sat on the same bench as you were reading a sort of novel while Steve was drawing something on paper. The wind blew strongly as he lost his grip on the piece, flying beside your feet. You pick it up and give it to him, looking down to realize he was drawing you.

You both blush at each other as you complimented his talent and he commented on your beauty. Then on, you guys have been dating for a couple of months.

Now, you were beyond upset about Steve avoiding you for the past week. He promised to take you out on a date, but then stood you up on the very night. You tried calling his telephone but he never picked up the line. Now you arrived on his doorstep, knocking on the door loudly. What you didn't expect was for Bucky, his best friend, to greet you.

"Hi, angel face. What brings you here?" Bucky tiredly asked. "I can ask the same for you, it looks like you haven't slept in days." you replied. Before Bucky could rebut, you invite yourself in looking for any sign of your boyfriend.

"Now's not a good time to visit Steve, doll." Bucky says, trying to usher you out. "That charm won't work on me Bucky. I have been beyond worried about why Steve hasn't been responding to my calls. Is he alright?" You ask, not realizing a figure is shuffling to the two of you.

"You shouldn't have come." a voice croaked out, coughing afterward. You turn around and gasp lightly, looking at a very ill Steve. His skin was pale as snow, and it looked like he was prying to keep his eyes open for a bit longer. Steve tries to take another step but almost falls down to his knees.

You and Bucky catch him in time, as you could feel your boyfriend going limp in your arms. "Help me take him to his bed." Bucky gritted his teeth as he properly held Steve on his side. The both of you took him to his mattress as you opened his blankets so Bucky can tuck in his friend. Steve's eyes were partly closed, but you both can tell he was drifting off to sleep. You sweep his hair out of his eyes and then follow Bucky to the living room.

"What happened?" you whispered lightly, trying not to wake him up. Bucky looks down to the ground, not wanting to break the news to you. "When Steve was a kid, the doctor said that he has a weak immune and respiratory system. Since then, he's had a lot of fevers in a span of months, up to the point where he contracts pneumonia twice a year. I've been staying with him for the past week in case something happens." You sit on a nearby chair, feeling your heart aching for Steve's health.

"This has been going on for years? Why hasn't he said anything? I would have understood if-" Bucky rolls his eyes and sits next to you. "You know him, he's stubborn as a piece of wood. But I think he was scared you'd reject him." Bucky sadly admitted. You stare at a nearby window, trying to think.

You stood up and grabbed your purse "I'll go to the market to buy some things. I'll take care of him. You need to go home and get some rest." Bucky was too tired to fight you on it, so he waited for your return.

You came back with bags of groceries as Bucky helped you carry them to the empty fridge. Before he left, he gave you instructions on how to help steve if he had a coughing fit or if he wasn't able to hold himself.

"Remember, he may have the will of ten men, but he's delicate." You nod your head and lock the door once Barnes leaves. You then started making a pot of your signature soup to pass time in case Steve wakes. Suddenly you hear him coughing uncontrollably, so you turned off the fire and grabbed a glass of water.

Seeing him sitting up with his chest heaving made your heartstrings pull. You then tended to him as you offered to Steve the cup that he gradually took.

Once his breathing slows to a normal rhythm, he looks up to you with such heartbreak. "You should go, I don't want to be a burden." he said the best he could.

You sit in front of him by the foot of the bed, ready to scold the living heck out of him. "I am not going anywhere, mister. You still owe me an apology for standing me up this past week. I was worried sick, Steve. Why would you keep this from me?"

“Cause I didn't want you to be looking at me like this." He replied in a small voice.

"You know I would have understood, you shouldn't have kept me in the dark." You told him, not breaking eye contact. Steve's eyes begin to water and cleaned them away with his sleeve.

"When I recently got sick, I realized something. I’m not the man who could carry you in my arms and kiss you with every ounce in my body without wheezing. I'm not the man who's able to provide for you, like giving you pretty dresses or sweet-smelling perfumes. Heck, I can't even afford you a rose” Steve said as his voice was breaking.

"And now you're spending your money to feed your poor pathetic boyfriend back to health. Can't you see I'm nothing but trouble for you?" He concludes, staring at you. You pause for a bit, reflecting on the words he uttered from his mouth.

"Not once have I ever thought you were weak, Steve. Dear God, I think you're one of the bravest men I know. So please, don't bring yourself down because you can't perform these things you've fantasized about doing. I have never cared for extravagant gifts and just having you in my life is more than enough. You taught me so much about life and the beauty within everything around me. That's why I..." you close in to take his hand on top of your beating heart.

"I love you. I love you so much that it hurts me to think you can't rely on me when you're in so much pain. So please Steve, don't push me away when we both know we were made for each other."

Steve's face softens as he begins to cry. You begin to tear up as you pull him into your chest, comforting him with all that you could give.

"What did I deserve to be with you?" he hiccuped.

"Everything, love. Everything, and more." you replied, lightly combing the back of his hair with your fingers.

Steve lets go of you and wiped away his tears, regaining his breath.

“How can I make up for the past week?” he asks, knitting his eyebrows with determination.

“You can make it up to me by telling the truth from now on. No more secrets between us. And I am nursing you back to health, starting with a soup I just made.” You told him.

Steve nods his head and feels his stomach rumble just from the mention of food. "Well, I am hungry." he sheepishly smiles. You laugh at his reply and got up to fetch a bowl of soup. You return back with the food and Steve holds his hand to feel the warmth of the bowl. Once he starts consuming it, his eyes roll to the back of his head and almost made a moaning sound.

"This is the most amazing meal I've had in a long time." Steve announced, making you laugh harder. He's happy that he made you smile, realizing how much he missed hearing the sound of your voice.

She was his rock, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

[physicalturian]

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 1

Summary : Being overwhelmed with work is exhausting. To release some of that stress, you make your way on a website to talk to strangers. One of them strike your interest and while the conversation flows you find yourself being dommed online. An unusual occurrence you might get a liking to. The thrill of letting someone take the control when too much weight is on your shoulders, no strings attached. Unless...

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5034 Archive of our own

Warning : Consensual BDSM / Masturbation / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Cybersex / Stranger / Vaginal fingering... If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

. . . . .

Boredom makes you do crazy things. Lack of free time too, mix them together and you end up stumbling on a website, talking to strangers from all across the world.

 With my work done, it was already pretty late, but I deserved some distraction for working so hard. I did not really care how late it was, I wanted to relax and have some fun, no matter the kind of fun.

Arriving on the home page, I stared at it “Clean chat or NSFW chat? Well…” I mumbled to myself, clicking on the NSFW tab, I had to find a name now. It had to be explicit enough so that the person would know what I want right? Yeah, but what do I want? Huffing, I typed down “Entertain me” Before entering and getting matched with a random person.

 They did not stay long, and their names were surprising to say the least. It took me a lot of time to match with someone that did not have a weird name, and did not leave the minute they got matched with me. I almost gave up too. Now, I was not one to kink shame, but neither was I into anthro dogs and role playing as people’s daughter.

 But funny enough, when they had a slightly normal name. They’d be the most boring person ever, I had to laugh every time people who had “dom” in their name, were the least charismatic people I’d ever met. I had to give it a thought and wonder, were they dom or did they just top their whole life?

 Huffing, I pressed the escape key on my keyboard once more to refresh the conversation and leaned back on my pillows. “At this point, I should just go to sleep.” I pondered out loud, my eyes riveted on the loading screen. I had probably skipped everybody on this website, and now they couldn’t give me anything. When I was about to leave, I was matched with someone named “A real doctor”.

 I couldn’t help the chuckled that escaped my lips as I leaned forward and wrote down.

 Entertain me: Now, are you really a doctor? Or do you want to get people to be horny over you?

Entertain me: ah, wait, also, how old are you? I’m 23, she/her.

A real doctor: There is no reason for me to lie, I don’t even need to tell them I’m a doctor to have them horny. People are always horny on this website.

A real doctor: 29, he/him. How long have you been looking to be entertained?

 Laughing I shook my head, I was surprised to meet someone who was 29 when most people I’d met until now were 18 or 19. I skipped them too. But I was definitely relieved, and it showed in my reply.

 Entertain me: thank god you’re 29, I was afraid I was going to catch a case! So many young people here, it’s frightening.

A real doctor: Are you telling me I’m old?

Entertain me: no no no, definitely not, no you’re the perfect age don’t worry. But since you’re asking so kindly, I’ve been here for about two hours and I have not had a single one good conversation.

A real doctor: Good, then I’m here to change that. What kind of entertainment are you looking for?

 I stared at my screen for a second, for some reason I was starting to feel excited. His question was a good one, and valid one too, and now I had to give him an adequate answer. Running my hands over my face, I was going to type back when he sent something.

 A real doctor: I guess, since we’re both on the NSFW chat the question is: what are your kinks? Your limits, perhaps?

 I don’t know why I answered so quickly, but my fingers did the talking.

 Entertain me: Hey maybe I should ask you that, maybe I want to dom you. How about that? You’d be surprised with how versatile I am.

A real doctor: You’re cute, but I don’t recall mentioning domming. Quite the lapsus you did there, I want to play a game with you but to do so you’ll have to tell me your kinks and your limits, dear.

 Why did I blush? A stranger called me dear, and I was feeling funny inside. For the first time tonight, someone was taking the reins and I kind of enjoyed it a lot. With my hands shaking slightly in excitment, I typed,

 Entertain me: I suppose you make a fair point…

A real doctor: Of course, I do, now do tell me.

Entertain me: right away, sir.

 I said half-jokingly, but that did not go through with the text. If anything, it fueled a certain fire, and perhaps I’ll admit I was testing the waters.

 A real doctor: Already catching on I see, good girl.

 Why was that so hot? My breath hitched and I simply looked at those words a few seconds, taking them in. Sighing, I leaned towards the left and open the drawer of my bed table, grabbing my toy. What am I doing… I thought. Putting the vibrator next to me, I took my time to reply.

 Entertain me: first of all, that’s kind of hot and you are definitely entertaining me.

A real doctor: I barely started, good to know you’re already hooked.

Entertain me: oh fuck off, it’s just the charisma. You got the pzazz, that’s all.

A real doctor: Check the attitude, and give me an answer.

 Gulping, I typed back, weighing my words this time.

 Entertain me: Well, avoid degradation because that’s not my cup of tea but… I suppose, while some of those might be hard through a screen… Body worship is cool, very cool… The entire idea of BDSM is lovely, I like praising, spanking, public stuff has some appeal and…

 I didn’t write the last one, feeling like it was too much. Should I say that? It sounds to fucking submissive. Which is my role right now, clearly, so I should just go for it. Sighing, I read his message and groaned, writing back.

 A real doctor: Go ahead. And? I want clear answers and you’re not done yet.

Entertain me: I like to please my partner, is that a kink?

A real doctor: A service sub? How cute. I’ll definitely make good use of that. Any limits?

Entertain me: I’m never showing my face, but pics are okay. I mean, if you’d like some of course. Consent and all that. I’m willing to try other stuff if we take things slow, too!

 Oh god, that sounded desperate. I don’t even know what he looks like and I’m telling him all of my deepest tastes. “Well, that’s the idea, right? I’ll never meet him, but I can have some fun, right? It’s all about having some fun, both of us. We both get off, and then never talk again.” I whispered to myself, looking up at the time. Noticing it was already 2 am, I was going to leave but I couldn’t find the strength to do so and waited for the man’s reply.

 A real doctor: Very well, I love the eagerness. I’ll be taking notes of those, now you’re curious about the game, aren’t you?

Entertain me: Don’t flatter yourself, if it’s some weird shit I’ll just leave. It really all depends on what’s your game. And please, don’t tell me it’s truth or dare.

A real doctor: Give me some credits, I’m not a teenage boy.

A real doctor: You’ll like it.

A real doctor: The game is this, I tell you what to do, and you do it.

Entertain me: okay…

A real doctor: Interested?

Entertain me: I’ll need more details, but I haven’t left, have I?

A real doctor: You haven’t indeed. Good girl, see you want to be ordered around. It’ll be my pleasure.

A real doctor: Your hands off your keyboard, I’ll be guiding you. All you’ll have to do, is read me. Is that alright?

 I took in his words for a moment. Was I really going to let him tell me what to do? My own voice resonated in my head, telling him that was the fun of it, it was hot. It was exciting, and different, nothing bad could happen.

 Entertain me: Would it be interesting to tell you I have a vibrator next to me right now, sir?

 I facepalmed behind my screen, maybe that wasn’t his shit. Maybe he just wanted me to finger myself or something, maybe I fucked it all up and now I was going to go to bed horny and sad. My self-depreciation dissipated when I saw his reply.

 A real doctor: It’s interesting, speeds?

Entertain me: Five, sir.

A real doctor: Hands off the keyboard, lay on your back, let’s start.

 And I did. With the laptop right next to me, I laid on back and waited for his words, following each of his instruction. Each in a separate message, fired like bullets.

 If you’re dressed, I want you to get completely naked. Undress slowly. Feel yourself. Your hands caressing each of your curves. Brushing over your breasts. Stop there. Pinch your nipples, hard and tug. Feel the sting. The warmth that follows. Spread your legs wide. Let one hand travel between them. Slowly start playing with yourself. Your fingers slowly spreading your folds. Rubbing yourself for me. You’re enjoying this, you like being ordered around. You want to be played with, you’re doing exactly as I’m telling you, like a good girl.

 I arched my back, a hand still on my breast while brushing my finger against my clit. I was burning up, my head digging inside the pillow, it felt strange. He was not wrong, and I could feel my arousing growing and growing.

 A real doctor: Want to continue? Are we still good, dear?

 Groaning I turned on the side and wrote with one hand.

 Entertain me: yes, sir.

A real doctor: Good. Back on your back, take your toy.

 Grabbing it, I waited for the next instruction, my hand having left my clit. It was pulsing, I never thought this would have so much effect but I was starting to get angsty.

 Brush it between your folds. Slowly. Get it wet for me. Good, like that. Keep at it a while. Your free hand, I want it caressing your body. Feel every sensation. Feel every touch, every brush.

 I let out a huff and wrote him, while still brushing the tip of my toy between my folds. I was starting to breathe heavily, feeling needy.

 Entertain me: it’s cold here, goosebumps.

A real doctor: Imagine my warm hands traveling your body.

Entertain me: fuck, can I fuck myself? Please sir

A real doctor: Already? No, no. Not just yet, let’s take our time.

 Groaning, I let my head hit the pillow and considered turning on the vibrator but thought against it. He had not told me to yet, I should wait, make it more fun. But fuck, I needed it.

 Let’s start slowly. You asked nicely, like a good girl. And since you’ve been listening until now… Put it in, speed one. But don’t fuck yourself. Leave it there. Legs spread wide. Now that your hands are free, bring them back to your chest. Give yourself firm, hard, gropes. Feel the vibrations inside you. Slide your hands down your torso, to your belly and gently brush your hands on your inner thighs. Feel the texture, your cold fingers on your burning skin. I want you to rub your clit, take a deep breath and start playing with it. Feel the electricity coursing.

 See yourself, enjoying the idea of being commanded. Look at yourself, look down at your hands. See yourself masturbating for me. Feel your toy stretching you, filling you up. Now start pumping in and out. But not too hard. That’s it, good girl. Slowly, very slowly. It’s painfully slow, isn’t it? Keep doing good, and we’ll speed things up.

 I whined and brought a hand to my mouth, muffling the noises escaping it. My roommates were probably sleeping, I had to keep it quiet. I hate how slow paced it was, but I loved how thrilling it was to do this. I bucked my hips to try to meet the toy as I pulled it out to pull it back in, slowly.

 Look at you. Shoving a dildo inside you. Just because I told you so. I blushed and let out a whimper. You’re actually enjoying yourself. You are being entertained, just as you asked. I can almost see the smile on your face. Tell me, is my good girl desperate yet?

 Bringing my hands to my hair, I got the wild strands of hair out of my face and wrote back. My face was on fire, but no one would know. What happened here was between this stranger and I, no one would know how I was being guided to fuck myself by a total stranger.

 Entertain me: sir… can I up the speed?

A real doctor: Very cute, you haven’t answered, dear.

Entertain me: please…

Entertain me: sir.

A real doctor: Alright, dear. You can put it at 2.

A real doctor: But you stop the thrusting, I want you to keep it deep inside you. Close your legs and feel the vibrations, when you think you’re close, you stop. Understood?

Entertain me: yes sir!!

A real doctor: How eager, lovely. Hands off now.

 Huffing, I did as he asked and upped the speed. A giggle escaped my lips before my breath caught in my throat and I could feel everything strongly, with how deep it was. I closed my eyes for a moment, missing some of the messages but opened them again, and read everything while feeling the sensations inside me.

 Angle it right. That’s right. Turn the speed one notch now. It should be at three, if you’ve been following right. See your face, you’re enjoying this. How cute, I can only imagine the sinful sounds leaving that pretty mouth of yours. It can probably do a lot more than moan. It can whimper. As it’s being fucked. As you’re being fucked. Bring your fingers inside your mouth and suck on it. That’s it, suck it. Push the toy deeper inside you. You can speed up the pace. Not too wild.

 “Fuck” I breathed out, my fingers hooked in my mouth as I met each of thrusts. I wanted to go faster, I wanted to do as I pleased and find a quick relief. I knew myself; I knew what to do but there was this thrill in giving the control to this stranger. My walls were clenched around the toy, I could feel it against my walls even more at each thrust. I desperately grabbed my blanket, almost making my laptop tumble off my bed and muffled my voice while biting down the fabric.

 I was surprised when a whine came out of my mouth, I put my hand over my muffled mouth to, hopefully, muffle it better.

 A real doctor: You’ve been good. Such a good girl, haven’t you?

 I sighed and leaned on my side, typing very slowly. My thrusts, slowing down as my focus was on the conversation.

 Entertain me: Yes sir, I’m so good

A real doctor: Good. Then I want you to grab the base of your toy and…

A real doctor: Fuck your brains out, go wild. While you’re at it, speed at 4.

 My arms were screaming for me to stop, it had been so long. But I felt the knot in my stomach grow in excitement and did exactly as he had asked. The pleasure was so good, it was so good. I had been waiting for this since we had started. One hand was gripping the base of the vibrator tight, while the other was rubbing my clit. My eyes rolled back a few times when it touched the right spot, but then I had to thrust more and lost it. I hated it but at the same time, I loved the mix of pain and pleasure of the fast and deep thrusts.

 Here we go. Hard, and fast. I want you to go wild. Let yourself go. Fuck your hole good. Groan, squirm, moan, plead for more. I’m sure you’re sore, but you’re doing so great. Such a good girl, doing exactly as you’re told. Keep going, don’t stop. Feel your toy stretching you out. You’re so wet, you can probably hear it, right? God, such a good girl. Spread your legs wide and keep going, good. Good. Now, read well, dear.

 I want you to go to the last speed, and keep your toy deep like last time. Don’t move it. Cross your legs and keep it there. I’ll count to 20, you’ll keep it there until I’m done. Are we good? Don’t answer, just follow my instruction. Come on, last speed. And here we go. That’s it dear. Good. Let’s start.

 Then he started sending a message for each number starting from 1. I watched the screen with half-lidded eyes, feeling the toy vibrating inside me, my hand starting to go numb from the said vibrations. My thighs were a bit sore, but I ignored it and moved the toy slightly to angle it only to find the right spot, I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation, only peeking to see the count was at 13. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My thighs were closed around my hand so hard, it hurt a bit but I was getting close.

 That’s it, what a view. Fucked out, exhausted. But you’re not done yet. Pick up the pace now, thrust and shove, hold it there. And again. And again. Hit that sweet spot. That’s it. Good girl, so obedient. Feel the soreness between your legs. Feel your clit throbbing. Feel yourself getting closer. Just from being told what to do? Pay attention to the throbbing. Fuck yourself hard a minute again. Then keep it there. That’s it, yes. I’m sure you must be quite the sight. I want you to be noisy. To be loud. Get wild. Buck your hips against the toy. That’s it. So obedient.

 My legs tensed the moment the knot inside my stomach reached its peak. I let out a high-pitched breath inside the blanket and let my head fall back on the pillow. I hadn’t realized I had contracted my whole body, and let out a chuckle at the realization. Slowly, I turned back to the screen, moving my tired arms to type back.

 Entertain me: I am good, exhausted, and I came, sir.

 I laid back on the pillow with another sigh. What time is it? How long did this take? I should probably get up and get cleaned but I’m too lazy right now.

 A real doctor: Good.

 I saw him type but typed my question faster.

 Entertain me: But it’s weird, you didn’t get to get off. Do you need anything? I could send you pictures if you want, I feel kind of bad that you just… helped me out and I did not do anything.

A real doctor: Oh, you did plenty. I get off on knowing you did as I instructed. And you did, didn’t you?

Entertain me: Yes, of course. Yeah, it was hot… And I enjoyed it, yes.

A real doctor: Is that so? Anything else you’d like to share? I’ve never had such obedient girl. You are very interesting.

Entertain me: Come on, it’s just in this setting that I’m like that. I’m very feisty in real life, I was just wondering what it’d feel like to let go of the control for once, I guess.

Entertain me: But if you need more feedbacks… I hated/loved how long you took to up the speed, and I am genuinely physically drained haha. But in a good way! A very good way.

A real doctor: Let’s talk more once you’ve hydrated. Get some water, and if you can, get cleaned up. I’ll be right here, alright?

Entertain me: right, right. Brb.

 Moving the laptop on my pillow while I sat up, I wrapped my toy with the towel that I had set under myself. When my feet met the ground and I balanced myself, I felt my legs wobbling a bit then made my way to the bathroom silently. I turned on the sink and let the water flow until it was warm and cleaned my toy before cleaning myself and getting changed.

 I made a detour by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and a sandwich before going back to my bed and sitting down, tailor-style, with my laptop in front of me. There were a few new messages from the doctor, so I put down my food and was ready to reply.

 A real doctor: If you’re willing, I would like to see a picture of your body to check if you’re good.

A real doctor: Now this website does not allow it, but if you have any media in mind, I’m all ears.

Entertain me: Yeah, sure, yep. I don’t have any bruises or anything, but if you’re that worried yeah! Maybe Discord? You’re a doctor, I feel like you don’t have discord.

A real doctor: I don’t know if you’re bratty, or if you are being an idiot on purpose.

Entertain me: omg none? I was voicing my train of thought!

A real doctor: Right. HandSurgeon#4766

Entertain me: Funny name, don’t judge mine. It’s my personal discord, so no sexy pic just, well you’ll see.

 Going to the friend list, I pasted the username in the search bar and added him. I was added back very fast and bided him good night on the website once I was sure it was him on discord. I made sure to save the conversation, just in case… Maybe for later use, if I felt bored.

 HandSurgeon: I don’t even know what’s your profile picture, but I’m not going to mention it again.

Edelweiss: It’s a tardigrade, come on. It’s fun, a bit, right?

Edelweiss: Anyway, let me take that nude for you sir 😉

HandSurgeon: Don’t call it that, it’s to check if you didn’t go too crazy.

Edelweiss: That’s what they say, then they ask for more

 I had to strip down naked once more to take the picture before getting dressed back up, it was getting late but I was still buzzing with energy. I probably won’t talk about this with my roommates, but if they asked why I was up so late I’d have to find an excuse. Telling them I was working would probably work, but then I’d get yelled at for not taking care of myself and having the worse sleep schedule.

 Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: Here we go. Sorry if I’m not your type, maybe we should have talked about that first. Now I’m self-conscious, but it’s too late haha…

HandSurgeon: You look gorgeous, don’t go thinking you’re not my type. You are very, very hot. I can see you have food next to you, that’s good. You are taking care, good girl.

HandSurgeon: I can also see from your clock that we’re on the same time zone.

HandSurgeon: Which is good and bad, it’s already 3 am and you are not asleep. Why is that?

Edelweiss: living the student life, only the best life. I was working on some project for my master degree, and I thought: hey I’m horny, let’s go on that funny website.

Edelweiss: And here we are.

Edelweiss: Why are you awake? Shouldn’t you be… getting some sleep to be saving lives in the morning or something?

HandSurgeon: I had just finished a 10 hours surgery, I needed something to distract my mind while working on some paperwork. You did very well in being distracting.

 It felt a lot more real when I read his message. It was now sinking in that he was really a doctor, not any kind, a surgeon. I was not going to ask more details, the less I knew the better. But it was slightly intimidating and at the same time interesting to know he was the real deal. My pride was swelling when I read I was able to distract him from his work, he had done his fair share of helping me out too.

 Edelweiss: I am sorry? Is it… important paperwork? I could let you be, if you want. We could talk another time, when you’re free? My sleeping schedule is fucked up, I don’t know about yours but I am going to be online many late nights haha.

Edelweiss: if you want to, of course. Maybe you don’t want to hear from me again. Actually, I thought I’d be the one to leave the website and not come back, but I kind of enjoyed our session… I wouldn’t mind doing this a bit more if we’re both in the mood of course.

HandSurgeon: You’re so nervous. Don’t be, I’m not going to let you go. What kind of dom would I be if I let such an obedient girl go? Go to sleep, we’ll talk later Edelweiss. Any reason for that name?

Edelweiss: god I didn’t want you to ask, it’s just. It’s a cool flower, it means strength and toughness you know? I’m a tough woman, I deal with shit. I can handle shit, you know?

 I read my message many times, thinking maybe I should have found something funny but thought not. It was just bonding, we were discussing, getting to know one another. It wasn’t half bad. I turned off my computer, and moved to Discord on my phone, to keep talking. When I looked at his picture, it was just a white bear, it looked cute. Funny how he had such a cute picture and he was domming someone on the side, two sides of the same coin I suppose. Come to think of it, maybe he could be an old man, maybe he wasn’t who he said he was…

 HandSurgeon: Interesting, I like it. It’s better than calling you ‘Entertain me’. Not very creative, if you ask me.

Edelweiss: Oh right, because ‘A real doctor’ is better? Maybe you’re not even a doctor. Maybe you’re catfishing me. And I sent you a nude. Oh my god…

HandSurgeon: I am not catfishing you, I can send you a picture. What do you need on it?

Edelweiss: Uh, I don’t know? Write down my name on a paper, and hold it against your chest, then take the picture? With the date! Yeah.

 There wasn’t any reply for a moment, I was starting to panic. Then I received the picture and gasped loudly. Surrounded by the darkness of the room, it was all that could drown my shock. I had to take a double take as I wrote back.

 HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: I mean, … Thank you for... it’s uh. Very. You’re not catfishing me. Nope. I understand why HandSurgeon now, you uh. Yep. Nice gloved hands, very slender. Most people would have held a huge piece of paper between their index finger and their thumb.

Edelweiss: but you opted for middle finger and index. And a smaller paper. Almost as if you were posing really. I do not mind. It’s uh. Enjoyable. Not an old man, no. And the scrubs and all, love it.

HandSurgeon: The scrubs, yes. You believe me, good. You can rest easy now, go to sleep Edelweiss. You probably have work to do tomorrow, and so do I.

HandSurgeon: Sleep well.

Edelweiss: Sweet dreams doc!

 I stared at the screen a bit longer before leaving the app and turning my phone face down on my night stand. What a night. I was so tired, and yet buzzing with excitement. It was strange, it was a strange dynamic but I wanted to discover more. I wanted to know more about this world. What else could this man offer me?

 Closing my eyes, I thought, maybe I could buy a connected sex toy? Sure, they were for couples, but they could definitely be used for other people. It could be fitting if I wanted to give him the control…

 My hands met my face full force and I groaned, I had met this man at best 4 hours ago and I was already desperate to have another session. I was already desperate to let him have the control.

 But it felt nice, so nice to not be in control for once. Yes, I had to hold the toy and read, but he was the one guiding me, it was elating! God, what am I doing? No, it’s alright. I’m an adult, he’s an adult. We’re both consenting adults, having fun. Nothing bad there.

 I’m a sore adult though. Maybe I’d need a few days before letting him have his fun. My eyes closed; I was thinking back on how his undershirt was hugging his form. Was it legal to look like that? I mean, I did not know what he looked like, but the little I saw was enough to make someone dream. His long-sleeved grey shirt was showing off his muscles and it definitely made me weak.

 I scoffed into my pillow, a surgeon. I wonder what else his hands could do. Fortunately, I’ll never meet him in real life, if I met the man I did not know if I’d want to jump him or run away from how intimidating his entire being was.

 It only took me a lot of stupid questions and day dreaming, for my brain to finally shut down and let me sleep. I went to sleep a lot easier than I usually did, perhaps it was because of the nice fucking I gave myself. Or perhaps it was thanks to the energy I spent overthinking the situation. Whichever it was, I was passed out in no time.

 Tomorrow I’ll talk more to the hot doctor and have a bit more fun with him.

[Part 2]

[elephart-hi]

The Mortal Maiden: Witch AU

Chapter 1: A (doomed) Mission at Hollow Hall

with a Jude wip for a larger piece, I'm doing for this fic!!!

Set during The Cruel Prince

Summary: For her whole life in Elfhame, Jude had been convinced that mortals were unable to do magic. She clearly remembers Madoc telling her that there were no witches in fairyland. She assumed he meant that they didn't exist, not that they had been hunted into extinction. During one of her missions at hallow hall, Jude received information about a spell that requires a unicorn and a witch and her whole world gets turned sideways as she discovers why they were eradicated. After another mission where Jude saves a strangers life, an ancient grimoire finds its way to her bed with a note from the stranger thanking her for saving them and warning her to only read the spellbook but not to practice the magic within, lest she wishes to be burned by the folk. Jude heeded the warning as if Oriana had given it to her herself, that is she completely ignored it and did what she shouldn't. Tensions are high as the coronation swiftly approaches and Jude finds herself more deeply entwined with the web of lies that ties the Greenbriar line together than ever before. With nothing but her wits and her secret sender to aid her magical studies, Jude can only hope to make it out unscathed.

Rating: Mature but not explicitly till later chapters!

Ao3 chapter 2

AN: This is set during the cruel prince. I absolutely love the different character development of the characters from book to book. Specifically, Jude in book one being like I have no clue how to be a spy I’m going to fucking die and it’s my fault for making a deal with Dain! curse me, god! Always made me laugh. So playing with that and with Cardan’s talking door. I like to think the door can move around hollow hall so that is a headcanon in here. We were robbed of spy jude content and all it’s potential so here. we get to the witches later I promise

Jude Duerte had, on numerous occasions now, cursed herself for thinking she could ever be a spy in fairyland. For starters, she was a seventeen-year-old mortal up against fairies a hundred years her senior. Her mortality happened to be the very reason she couldn’t use magic, which brings us to the second reason being a spy was a foolish, foolish thing for her to be: she was at a monumental disadvantage to everyone else in fairyland because they were magical assholes by nature.

As she raced through the crowded party at Hollow Hall, ducking between dancers and enslaved mortals caring trays of fairie wine, trying to avoid the guards who caught her stealing, Jude realized that being mortal had another disadvantage since it probably made her incredibly disposable to Dain, the prince she served under and who she was, for all intents and purposes, enslaved to thanks to the geas she struck with him. Her death would be of little consequence to the prince.

She reached her hand out and grabbed the ostentatiously carved banister to her right, using it to swing her momentum in a direction where the guards wouldn't have her surrounded. She barrelled into a stairwell hidden from the view of the ball as people started shouting. Jude had at least remembered something she’d learned from her short time training in the spy’s keep: always find multiple exit routes. She had scouted out the stairwell before her mission had gone sideways as she mingled amongst the folk.

She raced up the stairs nearly tripping on her gown as she began her climb, heart racing so fast she thought it would burst out of her corset. Her geas with Dain would protect her from fairy enchantments but it wouldn't protect her from being impaled by a sword or spear. Regardless of how skilled she was with a blade herself, ten immortal guards against one human did not seem like good odds.

As Jude continued her ascent she realized that her exit route was less of an exit and more of a path further into the manor. The roach would have her neck for her idiocy… If she lived to ever see him again. She should have gone for the servant’s quarters instead, she thought with a groan. From there she already knew her way out of the manor. She didn’t think she would have guards chasing her on her way out so she had, rather foolishly, assumed she would be able to explore more of the massive grounds and figure out the layout better for the next time Dain sent her here to spy on his elder brother: Prince Belkin. Now Jude just hoped she would live to see another night, much less another mission.

As she continued her ascent up the round cobblestone stairwell, the noise of the party became lost to her and she couldn’t hear the guards in pursuit anymore. Perhaps her quick exit had been in her benefit after all. If she had gone for the servant’s quarters they surely would have seen her use it and would have gone after her. Each turn up the stairs, she passed a candle in an alcove, lighting the cobblestone steps beneath her. She paused to rest on a dark step outside the reach of the candle’s glow, lest someone use the stairs and see her hunched over in its flickering light catching her breath.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the note she not so subtly nipped from her target. Right as she had grabbed the note out of his pocket, a fairy with copious amounts of cologne passed her and made her sneeze. The messenger in front of her immediately spun around but before he could get a word out Jude had him in a chokehold; his cries for help dying in his throat. She had thought herself so clever until the goblet in his hand clattered to the floor, gaining the attention of a nearby guard. Then she had felt like an idiot, as the guard called for reinforcements.

The manor would be crawling with them now, but they would all be looking for a fairy with horns, yellow eyes, and pointed ears. Jude had gotten the costume from a gothic store in the mall of the mortal lands and tonight it proved to be useful. She chuckled to herself as she pulled the horns from her hair and removed the fake ears and colored contact lenses. She tucked them all into a large pocket of her skirt, making sure to put her contacts into their case. Once her breath had settled and she looked nothing more than a mortal servant again, Jude continued her ascent up the stairs, hoping that she wouldn't gain any more unnecessary attention until she was a long way from the manor and back in the safety of the spy’s keep.

Once she reached the door atop the stairs, Jude leaned her ear against the wood, listening for any potential passersby in the hall. She nearly pissed herself and fell back down the flight of stairs when a doorknocker, which certainly hadn’t been on the door when she leaned against it, blinked and spoke to her.

“Looking for trouble or hiding from it, my dear”

Jude didn’t have a clue what to say. What does one even say to a doorknocker? No matter how long she has lived in fairyland, the world and its strange magic always managed to perplex her. So she just stared at the metal face that was now molded into the door completely dumbfounded.

“You’re being rude.”

Jude shook herself from her stupor, and raised her chin, “Neither. What would make you think I was in any kind of trouble?”

“Probably something to do with you pressing your ear to the door to see if the coast was clear,” the doorknocker said with a stern face.

Jude pressed her lips together. Once again cursing herself for thinking she could be a spy. It was obvious that she wasn’t the encorcelled servant she was posing to be. She internally groaned; the stars were certainly against her tonight. If she said she was hiding from trouble she would be admitting to some extent of guiltiness; with that thought a scheme started taking form in her mind.

“Looking for it,” she said decidedly, mustering up a smirk that she didn’t feel, “do you know where I could find any?”

The door squinted at her, judging the truth of her words as he eyed her round ears, “try the second to the last door on the right,” he said, swinging open for her with a returning smirk on his metal face that made Jude uneasy.

“Perfect,” she replied mustering more false bravo into her voice, “and afterward when I need to hide from the trouble I find what direction would you point me in?”

The door beamed at her then, a grin stretching the brass of its face.

“Down the hall past that door there will be a stairwell hidden behind a tapestry depicting a pixie orgy. Take the stairs to the bottom and you will find yourself at the stables,” the door still smirked at her, as if he knew what she had been planning all along.

Jude curtsied at him and went on her way, planning on foregoing the ‘looking for trouble’ bit but, to her surprise, the doorknocker’s face appeared on the backside of the door when it closed behind her. Jude was certain now that the doorknocker hadn’t been there when she arrived. It must be enchanted to move as it pleased. Now he watched every step she took. Jude would have thought it a very clever way of safeguarding one’s manor if the door was not a huge liability for her now.

As she proceeded down the carpeted hall, the doorknocker’s face magicked from one door to the next, smirking at her as she made her way past ancient doors, scenic art of battles and kings long past, and tapestries woven by the hands of skilled sprites. Every inch of the hall radiated extravagance, much like the two fairy princes who lived here.

She had no option but to go ‘looking for trouble’ now, Jude realized with irritation, not if she wanted the door to keep quiet about her lurkings. However, Jude hardly needed to look for trouble, she could hear the cries of guards searching the manor for a thief. She had already found enough of it today as is.

When she reached the second to the last door on the right, the one the doorknocker had instructed her to find, she realized that she recognized it from her last mission at Hollow Hall. Her stomach felt squeamish at the memories it brought up. Of Belkin and the belt. Of the owner of this room kneeling on the floor taking the beating.

The annoying doorknocker appeared on the wooden door, right in front of her face, his eyes squinting at her.

“Just what kind of trouble will I be getting into?” she asked, “is Cardan inside?”

Jude dreaded the answer. The door probably brought her here to turn her into him. She had the sinking feeling that she was a dead man walking. She could only imagine what Cardan would do to her when he caught her, mind drifting to the note with her name furiously scrawled onto it over and over again. A chill ran down her spine.

“I was assuming you were looking for the fun kind of trouble, Jude,” the door replied, his brass eyes glinting in mischief as he said her name as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking of. She wondered if he had watched her steal the book from Cardan’s room. She wondered how he knew her name. The torches of the corridor cast a golden gleam on the metalworking of his brass face, the craftsmanship reminded her of her father’s blades and metalworking. Her chest squeezed at the memories of her late father, but not before she shuddered at whatever the door considered being ‘fun’.

“How did you know it was my young prince’s chambers?” the door asked dubiously, suspicion laced his voice. Perhaps he hadn’t witnessed her previous mission after all.

Jude ignored his question since he ignored one of hers, “how did you know my name?” she snarked back.

The doorknocker averted his eyes, clearly not wanting to answer. She smirked and continued.

“What would you do if I were to bolt?”

“Then my prince would hear of your suspicious whereabouts,” he replied, a smirk returning to his metal face. Jude wasn't sure which prince he referred to, Belkin or Cardan. She knew one was worse than the other. Cardan was only nineteen with no true courtly power since he was still in school. Belkin on the other hand was the eldest prince to the High King, was centuries old, and was in no shortage of power.

Jude realized, as the sound of the guards searching the manor grew closer, that she had no options that were beneficial to her. She did, however, have one option that was far better than the other. The guards in question would be in the hall at any second by the sound of it. She could either bolt now, get captured by them, and have the doorknocker spill her secrets... or she could face whatever was on the other side of this door.

For all that she knew Cardan could still be at the revel a few floors down. Drunk on wine and merriment like he always was and balls deep in a pretty sprite.

The door swung open in front of her, leaving her no chance to rethink her decision as she stepped inside the threshold of the chamber, closing the door behind her. On the other side, she could hear the guards storming into the hall where she had just been standing.

“My prince,” the doorknocker called out, his face now on the backside of the door, peering inside the room, “your mortal maiden has come calling for you.”

Jude’s heart plummeted to her stomach. She couldn’t believe she had hoped that Cardan would still be enjoying the festivities downstairs. Ugh! Of course, the knocker would’ve known he was inside. He could magic from room to room after all. It seemed that the stars truly were against her that night.

She smashed her eyes shut in fear of what was to come next but all she was met with grumbling coming from the beautiful four-poster bed.

Jude peeked her eyes open and saw that Cardan hadn’t even bothered looking up to acknowledge the door. He laid on his bed sprawled out on his side, head hunched over with his nose shoved into a book, his black hair hanging in his eyes. He had one of his black nails caught between his teeth as his eyes darted across the page. He looked so... disarming like this. Nothing like the wicked boy she had come to know at school.

He probably hadn’t the slightest clue about the chaos Jude had caused downstairs, as he sat there completely wrapped up in his own world. From the way he was positioned, Jude guessed he was getting to an interesting part of his book. From behind him, Jude spotted his tail darted in and out of sight, swatting from side to side. It was almost humorous watching his tail change its pace as his eyes flew across the page; the tail speeding up and slowing down depending on what he read before him. This was a wholly unique side to Cardan she had never seen before, not at school, nor the palace revels, nor during her spy missions. So this was the person Cardan was when he was all alone?

The Cruel Prince of Elfhame was… a bookworm?

The door grumbled beside her loudly, clearing his throat, while a small incredulous smile tugged the corners of Jude’s lips.

“In a minute,” Cardan drawled slowly, as though speaking through honey, like his words had to travel all the way back from whatever far off land the book had charted him off to.

“My prince,” the doorknocker urged.

“I’m in the middle of a very important scene, my door, I don’t care for your taunts right now,” Cardan grumbled to the doorknocker, putting the same amount of emphasis on ‘my door’ as the door had on ‘my prince’. They were obviously very familiar with each other from how they spoke. “And she’s not ‘my’ anything!”

The knocker barked out a laugh followed by a wink towards Jude and with that, he vanished. Leaving her alone with Cardan. She turned to the door and tried the handle but it held firm, refusing to turn. She heard the sound of the doorknocker chuckling from the other side of the door; standing guard and locking her inside to face whatever punishment Cardan deemed fit for her. She dreaded what was to come but... he had yet to even notice her there.

Cardan reached over to the bedside table with the hand he had held hostage between his full lips and grabbed a goblet of wine from a tray of cheese, faerie fruit, and crackers. From what she could see before her, Jude decided that Cardan had the makings for a wonderful night of relaxation. The sight made something stir within her, perhaps she did want to look for trouble. How privileged of him to be able to sit here with such comforts while Jude had to enslave herself in a geas and become a spy just to get a scrap of power. He had everything she did not.

Jude realized that there would be no better trouble to find than a chance to ruin Cardan’s perfect night. And just as he was getting to the good part of his book she thought with bitter humor. Boohoo! The poor little prince! She rolled her eyes as resentment swelled within her. Resentment and rancorous jealousy. If the stars wanted her in trouble tonight then who was she to work against them.

She looked him over; his hair the color of raven feathers looked as if he had raked his hands through it a few times, probably in distress for whatever was happening in his book. How lucky he was that he only had to worry about his book and--

--and Balekin's wrath.

All schemes of trouble froze at the sickening memory of the wet sound of Cardan’s blood meeting the leather belt. The memory was a cooling draught to the burning resentment that boiled within her. Perhaps his books were a means of escape from the abuse he endured…

But none of that excused the bullshit he put her through at school! Jude was made to feel small every day since she was stolen away from the mortal world, but you don’t see her taking it out on every person she met.

And just like that, her resentment began to simmer anew. Although less powerful.

She continued to look him over, contemplating just how to ruin his night of relaxation. No adornments graced his ears for once, nor rings on his fingers. Cardan wore a plain sleep shirt whose strings were loose, leaving much of his lean chest exposed; she could see bits of his scars peeking over his shoulders.

Jude thought again about how strange it was seeing him like this. He was still heartbreakingly as handsome as usual except now, with the lack of finery and makeup, Jude almost found him more lovely. All the extravagance that he draped himself in distracted from how naturally breathtaking he was on his own. Now with nothing to distract from his unearthly beauty, Jude found herself almost speechless at the sight of him. It made her furious. How could someone so lovely on the outside be so hideous within?

Jude shook the annoying thoughts from her head and tried the door once more. Locked. Damn it.

Seeing no other option, Jude cleared her throat and spoke at last.

“I supposed I could come back another time then, your majesty,” she sunk into a curtsy to hide her grin when she heard him choke on his wine, realizing that he wasn't alone in his room.

“I would hate to interrupt... especially if you’re ‘in the middle of a very important scene’,” she phrased the last bit like a question, implying its inherent rudeness to dismiss someone over something as trivial as a good book. Although if Jude were to be honest with herself, she wouldn't mind that being a reasonable excuse to dismiss someone.

She looked up and barely choke down the laugh that tried to bubble out of her throat at the sight before her. Of a flabbergasted Cardan with wine now staining the front of his sleep shirt and his black eyes ringed with gold bugging out of his head at the sight of her. He may be beautiful but he looked ridiculous at that moment.

“Now how does your door know my name and why did he refer to me as your maiden?”

chapter 2

[wrenhyperfixates]

Arachnophobia

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Living in the Tower surrounded by superheroes can make you think your own fears don’t matter. Luckily, Loki is there to save you, both from yourself and the spiders invading your room. Warnings: one very disgusting run-in with a spider; fluff A/N: Shoutout to that one very weird looking spider in my backyard that inspired this.

“Aaaaaahhhhh!”

Peter was walking by your room when you screamed. He burst through the door, ready to web up whoever was attacking you.

“Where’s the bad guy, (y/n)?” he questioned frantically.

You pointed toward the wall opposite the bed you were standing on. He turned and quizzically raised an eyebrow. Finally, he saw the spider and walked over to it. He put his finger out and it crawled onto him. “You mean this little guy?” he chuckled. “But it’s so cute.”

“No. No, it most definitely is not,” you quickly countered. “And it’s, like, the fifth one this week. Please, just take it out of here.”

Peter shrugged and waved goodbye, walking out with the spider. You would have preferred he killed it, but you weren’t going to ask him to do that. He was Spiderman, after all. You were glad it was him who rescued you, though. Truth is, you were embarrassed of how terrified spiders made you. You would have been mortified if Tony or Nat or Thor walked in on you. And oh god, if it had been Loki you might have died. You didn’t want to appear weak or helpless to your crush. He teases you all the time as it is; you didn’t need to give him any more ammunition. Thankfully, he and most of the team were out, and you were able to avoid any questions. You hoped that that would be the last spider you saw for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One sleepless week later, you were about to cave and ask for help. The spider sightings were, unfortunately, becoming more frequent. You’d started having nightmares about spiders crawling all over your skin, leaving you with a disturbing tingly sensation when you woke up. If that wasn’t enough to keep you up at night, that old urban legend about swallowing eight spiders in your sleep each year kept finding it’s way to the forefront of your mind.

Determined to get some sleep, you made your way to one of the Tower’s numerous common areas. So far, the spiders were only in your room, but you hadn’t mentioned the problem to anyone yet. You spread the cozy blanket from your bed over yourself and got comfortable on the plushy couch. You’d brought a book too, just to have an excuse for why you were sleeping on the couch in case of a run-in with one of the team’s resident insomniacs.Not that you had to worry about that. You were so tired that you were out cold the second your head hit the cushion.

What could have been hours but felt like minutes later, you were awoken by a very familiar prickly sensation on your arm. Assuming it was just the product of one of your nightmares, you tried to ignore it and go back to sleep. Much to your dismay, the feeling only became more prominent the longer you were awake. Cracking an eye open, you barely managed to stifle a scream. Sure enough, there was a spider crawling up your arm, nearly under your sleeve now. In an adrenaline-induced rush of courage, you brushed it off and smashed it with your book. Unfortunately, the encounter unearthed the deeply repressed memory that was the reason you had arachnophobia in the first place.

You’d only been five years old at the time, but incredibly outgoing and brave for your age. Alone in your family room, you were playing with some dolls while your mom got you a snack. A large black dot on the floor caught your eye, and you walked up to it. You quickly identified the mystery spot as a spider. Some part of your brain told you to wait for your mother to come back, but it seemed dead. You’d figured it would do no harm to make sure, so you decided to squash it. You quickly grabbed your doll and brought its oversized head down on the arachnid. Then disaster struck.

You were rendered a screaming mess as baby spiders came rushing forth from the mother’s body. Your mom ran down in a panic and scooped you up, rushing away from the horrific scene. She quickly brushed any of the tiny arachnids off your small frame and hugged your sobbing body to her chest. After that incident, the house was fumigated, but you were left with a crippling case of arachnophobia. Not to mention you lost your interest in playing with dolls.

It was the strength of that memory, coupled with the fear of the moment, that left you a shaking wreck on the common room’s sofa. As salty tears trailed down your face, you heard a voice call your name, but it was distant as if you were underwater. The person called out to you a few more times, but you were still too shaken to say anything, let alone comprehend who’s voice it was.

They made their way to you in the dark and pressed your mess of a self to their body. A cold hand stroked your arm as their melodic voice whispered in your ear.

“It’s ok. I’m here now, darling,” they said. “Go back to sleep.”

You don’t know if it was from the crying or the sheer terror running through your veins, but somehow you managed to fall back into a dreamless slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, your mystery hero was gone and hadn’t left the slightest clue as to who they were. Sure, you technically could’ve asked around and figured it out, but you were too ashamed for that. Everyone had their own demons, and you were sure that comparatively yours would be nothing but childish fears. It wasn’t even that you necessarily thought anyone would be mean about it, but your mind always warped your thoughts until you believed your feelings were insignificant. You knew it was a bad way to be, but you couldn’t help it. Thus, you went about your day hoping your savior would reveal themself.

The rest of the day went by in a flash, and you were almost convinced that you’d dreamt the whole thing. No one had dropped any subtle hints that they were your shoulder to cry on, so you decided to make some passing remarks of your own. No one seemed to pick up on them, leaving you more confused than ever. At least you hadn’t seen any more spiders today, so that was good news. You even dared to hope you were done with the problem altogether.

Of course, nothing ever goes your way. You’d just finished your shower and there was another eight-legged menace waiting for you. This time, you weren’t able to stop the shriek from escaping your lips. Throwing on a robe, you walked backwards to where your shoes were, making sure the spider couldn’t run off. Unfortunately, a knock at the door drew your attention away, and when you looked back, the arachnid was nowhere to be found. Great, you thought, now there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep in this room tonight.

“(Y/n) are you alright,” the person at the door questioned, and you immediately recognized the voice as Loki’s. You stayed silent and debated the best course of action. Before you could say anything, he spoke again. “If you don’t respond I will have to come in to make sure you’re ok.”

You finally went over to the door and opened it a crack. “Hi Loki. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just, uh, slipped a little.”

“I see,” he said, a slight blush crawling up his cheeks when he noticed your attire. Realizing this, you felt your face mirror his.

“Right. Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. You’re quite certain you’re fine? You didn’t injure yourself at all, did you?”

You figured it would be best if you just dealt with the spider on your own. Better than telling the god standing before you, right? You shook your head no, but jumped when you saw a dark spot scurrying across your peripheral vision. Alas, when you turned your head, it was already gone. Maybe you were just paranoid.

“(Y/n) what is it,” Loki said, concern lacing his voice. You tried to assure him you were fine and close the door, but he pushed it open all the way and stepped in. He gave you a stern look and said, “Don’t hide from me. Tell me what the problem is.”

Tears brimmed your eyes and your lower lip started trembling. You were determined to not look like a fool in front of Loki, though, so you put on the bravest face you could muster and once again said you were fine. Then you thought you saw another spider and your weak facade slipped completely. You were now fully crying from the stress of it all.

Loki hesitated a moment before capturing you in a gentle embrace. In a fit of embarrassment, you tried to pull away, but he was having none of that. He only held you tighter as he whispered calming words in your ear. After who knows how long, your tears subsided and you hiccoughed a few times, adding to the shame you felt.

“Darling, you needn’t keep it a secret from me any longer,” Loki said once you fully calmed down. “I already know.”

Then something clicked in your mind. Darling. It was what the person last night had called you. The cold hands still holding your body suddenly felt all too familiar. You hadn’t even entertained the idea for a second that Loki had been the one to comfort you last night. Though, it would make sense if some magic was involved in you falling back asleep so easily.

“You-you,” you stuttered, only to be cut off by a gentle shush from Loki.

“Yes, dear, it was me last night. I’m sorry I ignored your hints, but I didn’t think you actually wanted to discuss it. And, quite frankly, I don’t always now how to respond to gratitude.”

One thing still wasn’t adding up for you. You asked, “But how do you know what’s bothering me.”

“You kept saying ‘spiders’ last night. You were so shaken, it didn’t seem appropriate to press for more information,” he said, finally releasing you, but only enough to see your face.

“Oh,” was all you managed to reply, having been so out of it that you had no memory of speaking at all.

He fully let go of you and walked with purpose to one of your walls. He pressed his hands to it and they started to emit a greenish glow.

“Whatcha doing?” you questioned, still sniffling a little.

“Sensing for spiders. What, did you forget I have magic?” he teased, bringing a smile back to your face.

“What?” you questioned when his face fell. “What is it?”

Sensing his hesitation to fill you in, you reassured him that you could handle it. Deep down, you were aware that you probably didn’t want to know whatever news he felt pertinent to hide from you. The suspense was killing you, though, so you pestered Loki until he gave in.

“Darling, I’m sorry to tell you this,” he said, leading you to sit on the bed, “but there’s a spider nest in your walls.”

Your eyes widened in fear. No wonder you’d been seeing so many. Your mind threw you back into that moment from your youth. All you could imagine was the tiny spiders crawling all over your body. The way they felt on your arms, near your mouth, and in your hair. Shivers racked your body as Loki kneeled before you. He took your hands in his and moved his head so he could look into your eyes, which were currently locked on the floor.

“Stay with me now. It’s going to be ok. I’m right here.”

You couldn’t manage to choke out a response, so instead you focused on synching your breathing with the pace of his thumbs rubbing small circles on the back of your hand. You felt lightheaded, but Loki’s eyes kept you grounded in reality. Finally, you regained control of your senses.

“Th-thank you,” you said, shaking out the remaining bits of paralysis.

“You don’t need to thank me for this, dear.” Before you could protest, he continued, “Now, I can take care of the nest with my seidr, but any spiders that are scurrying about will escape my wrath. We can talk to Stark about getting an exterminator in here.”

You nodded meekly, still not able to do much else. A familiar green glow came from Loki as he worked his magic. Once he was done, he turned and smiled at you. With the threat mainly neutralized, you suddenly became very self-conscious of your attire, remembering you were still only in a robe. To be honest, you’d pictured a scenario like this before; you barely clothed and alone with Loki. Of course, it was never in a situation quite like this. You thanked him profusely and shepherded him towards the door before your mind could wander any further. Unfortunately, one of the remaining arachnids decided to make an appearance, sending you scrambling into Loki’s arms.

“There’s no way you can spend the night in here. Will you come to my room?”

Even though he’d phrased it like a question, you knew he wouldn’t let you refuse the offer. Even so, whatever scrap of pride you still possessed begged you to brave it out. Mainly though, you just wanted a good night’s sleep.

“Ok. Yeah. I think I’d like that. But, uh, do you think I could maybe change first?”

He let go of you again and nodded his head, obviously having also forgotten you were only dressed in a robe. Once you were in some more suitable sleepwear, Loki took your hand and led you to his bedroom. You’d hoped that he would cuddle you again like he had the night prior and were disappointed when he laid as far away as possible from you on the large mattress.

“Hey, Loki,” you said, bashfully. “Remember last night? Well I’m still kinda scared and was wondering if-”

“Say no more, darling.”

Loki wrapped you in his arms and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. As his melodic voice coaxed you to sleep, you decided that, spiders or not, this would not be the last time you got to snuggle with the god of mischief. Lucky for you, Loki was thinking the exact same thing.

[wendystales]

Memories -lrh (Chapter Two)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter One ※※※※※ Chapter Three

I open my eyes having my vision blur for a little. I blink a few times, getting a better look at the room I was in. Room? It was very bright, I look at the window and guess it must be around seven in the morning.

I glance around the room, seeing my mother lying on a two-seater sofa. I see my broken arm and the heart monitor wires attached to my chest.

“What the...?” I let the confusion in my voice die, for my dry throat. I see no cell phone near me to confirm the time or date, how long have I slept? I carefully seat down on the bed, so as not to hurt my arm, and call my mother, who doesn't hear me at first, making me raise my voice more, scratching my throat.

She gets up startled and, as soon as she sees me awake, comes quickly to my side. Her hands quickly grasp my face and she distributes several kisses across my cheeks.

“Thank God, you're awake! How are you? Do you need anything?” the bombardment of questions leaves me lost. “ I'll call the nurse.” she leaves the room before I can say anything.

God, I just wanted a glass of water and to understand what happened.

She returned with a nurse who came in smiling sympathetically. My mother held my hand, reassuring and comforting me.

“Hello, Miss McGonagall. I'm glad you're awake. How are you feeling?” she asks as she writes something down on her clipboard.

“Thirsty.” I announce, desperate for a glass of water.

“Oh, of course!” my mother takes a bottle of water from the small table next to the sofa and helps me to take a sip. Finally.

I turn my attention back to the nurse, now more relieved by the water.

“I am fine. A little sleepy and confused. And my arm is sore.”

“That's normal.” she continues writing down some things and fiddling with the equipment. I decide to end the mystery.

“I suffered a car accident, didn't I?” I ask, alternating my gaze between my mother and the nurse, who both look relieved.

“Yes, a drunk driver drove through the traffic light and crashed into your car. You only broke your arm and twisted your foot, besides some bruises.” the nurse explains, killing my curiosity.

Car accident. I remember being in the car, stopped at the light, but I don't remember the impact. Thank God I had survived and without many sequels.

“We thought that you might also have suffered a lost of memory, but that apparently wasn't the case.” my mother had a huge smile on her face.

“Still, we need to ask you some questions.” I turn my attention back to the nurse. “What is your full name?”

“Marnie Elizabeth McGonagall.” I answer immediately.

“Your birthday date?”

“October 17th, 1996.” I answer after thinking for a few seconds. Their smiles widen with each answer.

“How old are you then?”

“Twenty years old.” that's when the smile disappeared, but they didn't say anything.

“You slept for two days. What day is it today?” she asked attentively.

“Two days... I think today is day six.”

“What month and what year, dear?” This time, my mother asks the question.

“March 2017.” I arch my eyebrows, as if it were obvious. But from the look on their faces, I was wrong. I stare at my mother, seeing her with teary eyes.

“Mrs. Williams, please wait outside. I will pass the information to the doctor so that you can talk.”

I see my mother leave crying and get desperate. What is happening?

“Did I lose my memory?” I ask fearfully.

“We don't know yet. You just woke up, we need to take some time and see what happens. You will probably be going through some tests in a few minutes, so you need to be fasting still. After that I'll call a nurse to help you take a shower.”

She leaves and I find myself alone. Now more awake and aware, I notice near the window some vases of flowers, cards, and two happy-face balloons. I smile, feeling comforted by the affection.

A few minutes later, a nurse came in, taking me to the examination. It would be an MRI scan to see which areas of my brain were affected. I feel completely sick; what if I really had lost my memory? How many years have I lost?

However, before the examination, I would take a blood sample. So I went into a room and they sat me down in a very comfortable armchair. I hate blood test, just the sight of the needle makes me want to throw up. When this torturous part was over, they asked me if I preferred to go through the procedure sedated and I said no, I may not like to be in closed places, but to be pierced again is just too much.

I lay down on the gurney and they fixed me up with headphones so the noise wouldn't bother me, a blanket because it was so cold, and they put something like a mask over my head, only taller, like a cap, but hollowed out. At the same moment that the stretcher starts going into that hole, I close my eyes.

The procedure lasted about 30 minutes, and during this time I tried to stay calm and remember as many things as possible. Soon after, I was taken back to the room, finding my mother there with a nurse who would help me take a shower, it was what I wanted most.

I open my eyes and feel my body freeze when I see my image in the mirror. Not only because of the scratches, but also because my hair was short and lighter at the ends, I looked like a different person.

Another surprise, was when I saw a tattoo in the middle of my chest, taking the valley of my breasts and going all the way down to the bottom of them.

“Did you let me do this?” I ask my mother, while the nurse washes my hair.

“Marnie, you don't live with me anymore, you are an adult who pays your own bills and has your own life. You don't ask my permission for nothing else.” she laughs at my shocked face. I don't remember my job, or my apartment, I must have forgotten it for many years.

Her cell phone rings and she leaves the bathroom. The nurse continues to teach me how to take care of the cast. I take advantage of the moment alone and investigate my time in the hospital.

“Have many people come to visit me?” I ask as she begins to comb my hair.

“A lot!” she smiles sympathetically. “Yours friends came at all visiting hours and brought lots of balloons and teddy bears. The head nurse sent them home with half of them.” she recalls laughing. I didn't know I had so many friends besides Bethany.

“Did my boyfriend come?” I ask anxiously, after all, I was on my way to see him.

“It was hard to get him to leave. He spent the first 24 hours here, slept in the hallway and everything. You're a lucky girl.” she blinks at me. I feel my heart race. I just want to see him!

Again, I go back to the room and this time I stay. A breakfast arrived and I was starving.

“Porridge?” I ask disappointedly as I see the tray.

“You've been unconscious for two days, you can't want to eat a mountain of pancakes, you have to start slowly.” mom warns.

We’re both in the room, and it’s an awkward, tense silence. I could see a look of relief on my mother's face to see me awake, but deep inside, there was a glint of discomfort. I conclude that this is why she is avoiding looking at me. I finished my coffee against my will and straightened up, in order to get some answers.

“Have I really lost my memory?” I ask in a clear and direct manner. She looks at me with a mixture of indecision and weariness.

“I don't know, dear.” she moves closer to the bed, caressing my face. “You have a wrong date in your head, but the chance of it being temporary is huge, so stay calm and let's wait for the test results. Now, get some rest.” she gives me a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room.

I end up falling asleep after a few minutes of watching TV. I wake up to another nurse calling me, my results are out, and the doctor wanted to talk. She passes me to a wheelchair and takes me to the doctor's office. When the door opens, I see my mother with her eyes red, the doctor with a gentle smile and Luke Hemmings looking at me in affliction.

I don't hide my confusion. Luke Hemmings?! What a famous guy is doing here?!

“Is he the one who hit my car?” I ask readily, I wouldn't be surprised, these famous people drink and think the world is theirs.

Luke clenched his jaw and his gaze seemed lifeless, he was completely uncomfortable. I bet he didn't like the truth. I ignore his unnecessary presence and turn my attention back to the doctor.

“No, Miss McGonagall. I believe Mr. Hemmings is a very close friend.” I can see that the doctor is careful with his words.

Close?

When I look back at him, I see him hugging my mother on the side, who is struggling to hold back her tears.

“What?” I let out in a whisper, alternating my gaze between them and the doctor.

“Miss McGonagall, you suffered a car accident two days ago.” he begins.

“Yes, I suffered it.” I state.

“And as sequels, you broke an arm, twisted a foot, and, unfortunately, lost part of your memory.”

It was like a bomb falling on me. I had no protection or counterattack. The suspicion had evolved into truth, and now, I had nothing to do but feel angry and out of control of my own life.

“But I talked about it being a car accident, before anyone told me. I remember being in the car, I don't remember the impact, but I remember being in the car.” I try to find a way out.

“What were you going to do?” he asks curiously. I force my mind and remember.

“I was going to see my boyfriend.” before the doctor could say anything, a different hopeful voice steals my attention and I see Luke letting go of my mother, approaching both of us.

“ It's true!” He looks at the doctor. How does he know it's true? He doesn't even know me! “We were supposed to meet for lunch.”

What?! Where did this guy come from and how does he have the courage to say something like that? I look behind my mother for help, but she is focused on Luke and the doctor.

“We? I don't know you.” My voice comes out desperate, I was already losing patience with him.

“Marnie, what's your boyfriend's name?” Luke leans one hand on the table and one on my chair, and asks me in a desperate tone, as if his life depends on my answer.

I look deep into his blue eyes, annoyed that he is getting in the middle of my life. I fill my mouth and reply.

“Stephen Maynard! My boyfriend's name is Stephen Maynard.” I raise my eyebrows as if to say ‘happy?’

His jaw locked again, and his eyes watered. He bit his lower lip and left the room, slamming the door.

“What is his problem?” I'll ask my mother and the doctor.

“ I'll go see if he's all right.” mom leaves the room and I stay with the doctor, who doesn't seem to care much about everything that has happened.

“Miss McGonagall, you suffered a car accident two days ago and were unconscious during that time. I know it may be difficult to accept that you have lost some of your memory, but unfortunately that is what happened. Your brain deleted the last three years and maybe even an older part, we have no way of knowing yet. The point is that this amnesia can be momentary and perhaps today you will remember everything, or it can last longer.” he explains calmly.

“Could it last forever?” I ask fearfully.

It was strange to think that I don't remember three years of my life, no matter how hard I try, nothing comes to my mind. I became agonized and curious to know what I was forgetting. I didn't want to do any tests, I wanted to talk to my mom and dad, see Bethany, my best friend and gossip, I wanted to see Stephen, where is he when I need him? The nurse said he didn't leave my side.

The door opens and my mom walks in again, her eyes are still red, but she seems a little more calm. She sits down next to me and holds my hand.

“Yes, it can be permanent, so you shouldn't force anything. After discharge you will go back to your normal routine and maybe something will be a point to remember everything, or at least half of it. These amnesias are often just traumatic and take you back to other traumatic times, like they want to spare you from something.”

“These last three years have been a lot of change for you, dear, that makes total sense. You said you were going to see Stephen, remember for what?” she asks curiously.

“Our anniversary. I was going to drop off his present and celebrate. Where is he anyway? The nurse said he hasn't left my side. Even an annoying celebrity is here!”

“ I'll let you two talk for a while, I think we owe it to Miss McGonagall.” the doctor interrupts before my mother replies. “But, remember, miss, without forcing anything, you'll have plenty of time to find out everything. Excuse me.” he leaves the room, leaving us alone.

“Well?” I ask my mother, who looked totally uncomfortable.

“Honey, on that day that you remember, that last memory, you found Stephen with Bethany, how can I put it? In a not good situation. You broke up.”

I always knew that my parents didn't like Stephen, thought he was a bad influence, but to say that he cheated on me with my best friend bordered on the ridiculous.

“Mom…”

“I swear it's true, I know it hurts, and it really hurt to see you go through this. But honey, you overcame it, you overcame everything and you found a wonderful man who loves you, appreciates you, respects you and cares for you.”

“Such an amazing man who is not here.” I raise my free arm, supporting my argument, showing that only the two of us are in the room.

“My love, he is here, he has been here all the time, he only left last night because everyone insisted.” the look she gives me, wanting me to put all the pieces together makes my stomach turn.

“No!” I laugh, unbelieving what I was imagining, "Luke can't be my boyfriend.”

“Why not?” my mother's displeased tone surprises me, does she approve of him?

“I don't even know him. He's famous and I'm not. Where would we meet?” the pieces just don't fit together.

“Your life has changed a lot, dear, to the point that you meet him and his friends. To the point that you could afford this hospital.” really, my family couldn't afford a private room and all the tests that I would have to do. “Marnie, you have become a model.” I can imagine a bomb exploding in my head.

“That's a lot of information!”I cover my face, trying to take it all in.

“I'm sorry, honey, if I could only pass this whole situation to myself and let you off the hook.” she squeezes my thigh.

“I know, it's just so agonizing not remembering. I mean, did I yell at my 'boyfriend' and tell him I was with another guy? Another who in my mind is still my current one and who I still have feelings for?” I let out a desperate breath. I dry my tears, angry with myself and with the drunk who hit my car.

“Honey, it is only the first hours, calmly, we will tell you everything and you will get used to it, who knows, maybe remembering until everything is in place or close to it? It's not your fault, it's just a consequence! Everything will be fine, I promise you.” she hugs me and I allow myself to cry, her hand caressing my hair, giving me peace. “What matters is that you are alive.”

“What day is it today?” I ask after a few seconds.

“June 13th, 2020.” I feel the second bomb explode, it's very weird.

“Do you and dad like him?” I ask, curious.

“Very much, it was your best choice.” she smiles.

“And Dad, where is he?” her expression becomes distressed.

“Hm, he had to take a trip right on the day of the accident, but he is already trying to get back.”

Three years! That's what I had lost. Apparently my boyfriend, or rather ex-boyfriend, had cheated on me and I was with a world-famous and beloved guy, of whom I knew nothing but his name and that he was in a band, which had the underpants song.

I went back to the room and spent much of the afternoon trying to assimilate everything. I needed more information, to talk to more people. Deep down, I wanted to believe that this was a big theater, but I know that it is impossible. Unfortunately, I have lost my memory and my hands are tied trying to fit everything in and remember something.

The door opened and unlike what I had imagined, Luke came in holding a bouquet of gerberas and a box with a purple bow. He didn't expect me to be awake, and I didn't expect to be alone with him so soon.

“Sorry, I didn't know you were awake.” he says clumsily and a little lost, not knowing what to do with the box and the flowers.

“No problem, you can pretend I'm asleep, I don't want to disturb you.” he nods and I watch his movements.

I watch him exchange the yellow roses in the vase for the gerberas, my favorite flowers, and notice him collecting the cards and giving them in my direction.

“I believe you are very curious to read them.” he won't come close and I feel bad for that, he must hate me.

“Thank you.” I give my best smile, trying to smooth things over. Luke continues to hold the box, not knowing what to do.

“Hm, this... this little box, it's for you!” he extends the box, still away from the bed. ”Your old cell phone broke in the accident, and I bought this new one. Leah and I have already backed it up, it has all the information from the old one.”

“Leah?” I can' t help but question, as I open the little box and look at the brand new cell phone.

“Uh, yes, your best friend, the current one!” He is standing at the foot of the bed and avoids looking at me.

“I don't know the password.” I say as the screen lights up.

Luke approaches, still hesitant, and positions himself beside me. He unlocks the screen and starts to show me where everything is, pictures, videos, messages and contacts. I stop for a moment and pay attention to him, while he is still talking.

With his face very close, I smell his perfume and I like the smell. I notice his long, very light hair, a beard showing signs all over his chin and jaw. Luke is handsome, I'm not impressed that I had a crush on him, but why did he have a crush on me?

I notice that he notices me staring at him, and, before he turns around, I turn my gaze to the cell phone. I feel him analyzing me, maybe trying to find the girl he loved inside me.

I take courage and stare back at him, my heart racing and my stomach churning, but not from happiness or anxiety of wanting something to happen, but from wanting nothing to happen. Even though he was a handsome and caring guy, I couldn't feel something for Luke, at least not before I worked things out with Stephen.

“Sorry about earlier today.” I whisper, not amused by my behavior.

“No need to apologize. You're just going through a very big shock.” He reassures me.

“Still, I want you to know that I'm not like that.” Luke looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “But you already know, of course.” I cover my eyes, wanting to die. Luke lets out a laugh that makes me laugh along with him.

“I know it will be difficult, but I don't mind hearing you tell me all about you again.” I can't sustain the look, it intimidates me. “By the way…” he turns away and goes to a backpack on the sofa and pulls out a book. “I brought it so you would have something to read. You read it last year and said it was so good you wish you could forget to read it again.” as soon as Luke finishes speaking, I can't stand his choice of words and start laughing and he seems to notice, becoming embarrassed.

“That's fine, thank you very much.” I oblige and allow myself to lift my body, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He turns more red and sits down on the couch, leaving me with my presents. I glance over the novel, reading the synopsis that catches my attention, ‘When It Happens’. I grab my cell phone and go into my social medias, startling myself by seeing my insta full of pictures in Italy, clothing campaigns and some pictures with him. I look up to Luke, who is wearing glasses and reading a book.

It’s strange not to be attracted to him, but to feel peace, as if everything is right. I’m sorry that I don't remember him, since he seemed like such an amazing guy and so kind to me. My mind comes up with a huge list of questions I want to ask him. How did we meet? How long have we been together? Do we fight a lot? But at the same time that I am insanely curious to talk to my boyfriend, his presence intimidates me; after all, he is a famous guy. Faced with this, I keep quiet.

I turn my attention to the thousands of cards on my lap, reading one by one. Many texts wishing me better, saying that if I woke up some would cut the hair, or change the color, among other promises. Leah, Calum, Ashton, Kyleen, Noah, Michael; so many names, but none that I feel familiar with. I need to see Stephen.

“Could you check with the nurse for something I can eat?” I ask timidly, not wanting to get in his way. However, Luke quickly gets up and provides my order.

I take advantage of the moment alone and dial the number I still remembered, after three rings Stephen's voice comes on and for the first time in hours, I feel in control of the situation.

“Hi, it's Marnie!” I feel my heart racing so fast I think about the possibility that I'm going to throw up.

“Wow, this is a call I never thought I would get again.” I don't answer because I feel bad, apparently the ending wasn't good at all. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Hm.” I clear my throat. “I need to see you, to talk, actually. I don't know if you know, but I was in an accident recently.”

“Yes, I read about it.”

“So, the problem is that I lost part of my memory and, well, the last thing I remember is that I was on my way to your house, to celebrate our anniversary.”

“What anniversary?” his voice is curious and cautious.

“The one in 2017.” the line becomes dead silent and I don't wait for an answer. “Look, I am really lost and I need to talk to you and understand everything.”

“Are you sure your parents and your amazing boyfriend haven't already told you everything?” the mocking tone annoys me a little.

“Honestly? I didn't really believe what my mom told me. Would you mind coming to the hospital early tomorrow morning? I'll probably be discharged in the afternoon and well, I know some people won't be happy to see you here.”

“No problem, it would be an honor to tell you the truth. See you tomorrow, Lizzie.”

The affectionate nickname he always used for me makes my stomach turn. Stephen never liked my name and the fact that he didn't know how to make a nickname out of it, so he called me Lizzie.

I don't know if I did the right thing by calling Stephen, but I need answers and to understand everything that had happened between us, until I came into Luke's arms.

Luke...

Where did we bump into each other and intertwine? He is a famous guy, has great friends, could date any famous girl, a fan, someone who knows him well and wants him, why me? The thoughts drown me as I look at another picture of us on his profile.

“Sorry for the long delay, my mom called, she wanted to hear from you.” Luke's cheeks are flushed and the glasses that used to occupy his face are now hanging from the collar of his shirt. “The nurse will bring some soup in a moment.” I wrinkle my nose and mouth. I don’t like soup. “I know, but that's what the doctor ordered.”

It scares me how he knows me and how I know nothing about him, other than that he sings the underwear song and that he sang with One Direction.

[astalavista4u]

In another life - Nier: Replicant

Check out this awesome fanfic my friend wrote! Honestly I loved this story so much, so I convinced them to share it with the world.

Pairing: Emil/Nier (one-sided)

A/N: in Nier:Replicant one can change the character name. In my version he is called Llys. All the events described here take place in the second part of the game.

It rained all morning. Emil looked up into the sky wondering how long will it last. Kaine was dozing off nearby, her back against stiff and wet rock. Their campfire was long gone, the remaining embers washed away by the rain. Probably they need to find a new place, dry and comfortable but for some reason Emil was reluctant to move.

He thought about his body…Will the rains turn his skeleton-like limbs all rusty and then they will slowly start falling apart? Kaine and Llys are human, rain is no threat to them…but what about him? Surely the forces of nature will try to fight this disgusting body, will try to wipe him away from Earth. The crying seagulls on their way to Seafront distracted him a bit but this pain lingered in his mind. Instinctively he hugged himself with his long skeletal arms, a protection of sort from nature…And from voices in his head so full of self-hatred.

Kaine moved anxiously in her sleep. -She did not actually sleep during the night. – he thought. – So I won’t disturb her now…Maybe she is dreaming of something nice this time.

Should the likes of me even dream?

His eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of a silhouette approaching from the north-east of the plains – white messy hair, slim and tall figure, a giant broadsword behind his back. Emil thanked the gods again for letting him see all this without hurting anyone. Probably the only thing he really was thankful for.

The white circles he had for eyes were lifeless but in truth his real eyes devoured every last part of the figure trying to memorize every little detail: the length of his boots, his walking manner, every feature of his almost perfect face which was now visible from where he sat. Each time he saw Llys he drowned in that grey and blue eyes of his, confident and cold but somehow at the same time kind and understanding. Each time he saw Llys he brought up memories of how he lost his human body and how he felt and how Llys never rejected him but greeted him instead with calming words and opened arms.

I will never abandon you.

Do you really think that he cares about you?

He keeps you by his side because he thinks you are useful.

For now.

YOU’RE WRONG! – with this last cry the other whispering voices slowly retreated to the darkest places of his mind only to appear again later.

Emil gathered himself quickly and floated towards Llys. After all Kaine was still sleeping…Let her rest just a bit longer.

- Llys! – he said, voice as cheerful as always. – What’s up? How was that business of yours at Seafront?

- Fine, I guess. – Llys looked tired and wary after the journey. Exhausted, even. – The package was hard to deliver but the client paid handsomely. -Let it be the last time when we fulfill such foolish requests. – Grimmoire Weiss materialized behind Llys.

- Don’t push yourself too hard, please. – Emil placed his hand on Llys’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. The sensation was very nice, it sent electric impulses up to his spine. Emil suddenly imagined himself like a real human, a version of himself but five years older. Back then during their first encounter Kaine told him that he was a “cute little thing”, so probably after five years this cuteness will remain? Maybe Llys will also call him cute. He imagined a real hand touching the shoulder of his dear friend, a hand of flesh and blood. He imagined his own lilac eyes looking at Llys with warmth and care and not these horrible empty sockets. His own lips smiling cheerfully not this terrifying mouth twisted with everlasting monstrosity which no one ever will call a smile.

You are disgusting…

He is disgusted by your touch, can’t you see?

This sudden outburst of his imagination only lasted for a moment but with these thoughts Emil’s hand hastily left Llys’s side. Emil looked away ashamed of his actions. – You stupid piece of junk, you should have asked if he was okay with the touch, he probably felt…

- Emil, is everything okay? – Emil felt two strong hands grabbing his skeleton shoulders and felt Llys’s gaze on his face.

- Ha..ha-hah, y-yeah, sure! Why do you ask? – even if his face wasn’t capable of showing any emotion his voice still betrayed him.

- Are you sure? – Emil turned to face Llys only to find him several centimeters away. If he had a real body his cheeks would probably blush…

- Y-yeah, of course I’m sure…Just feeling a bit lonely, you know. Kaine is sleeping, didn’t get much sleep during the night and you were at Seafront, so…

- Emil…- Weiss stopped unable to find the right words.

Llys glanced quickly at their camping place – remnants of the fire, Kaine lying on hard wet rock, her swords and Emil’s scepter covered carefully by a piece of cloth. Something dire ran across his beautiful face…something like rage. Emil has already prepared himself for this talk they had had several times before: - No, Llys, everything is fine, really…We are used to sleeping outside. We feel perfectly comfortable and we don’t need anything, so don’t worry about us.

And then Llys leaned closer and hugged him. He pressed Emil’s head to his chest whispering: I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…Somehow among the countless rain droplets bombarding his head he made out one that was entirely different. And then another. And another. Hot tears poured from Llys’s eyes, small droplets traveling down to where Emil’s eyes and nose should be. All Emil could do was just to hug him back and try to wave away the thought of how he would like to sense the taste of these tears on his own lips.

He never realized that his and Kaine’s sleeping place was such a miserable sight. Never put much thought into it. His well-being never was much of a concern. Yet here he was, his dearest friend crying about his fate.

- Please, moment, never go away…Let me stand here hugging my friend for an eternity. Let the worlds collapse around us, just please don’t let go

Of course he knew the absurdity of this thought and he cursed himself for it. No happy life was possible without Kaine, without Weiss, without Yonah who is still out there, probably in grave danger. And yet…Please let me be selfish just once…

***

Sometime after the events in Façade

Kaine tossed some paper into their campfire. Emil cuddled near it watching the chaotic dance of flames.

- Kaine…I wanted to ask you something.

- Well, go ahead. – She leaned against the rock throwing the remaining paper into the fire. – What is it, Emil?

- Well, it’s about the king’s wedding…Or more about what I’ve said on that wedding.

- So? – Kaine raised an eyebrow. – What is it you said?

Emil would have licked his lips if he had those before starting this awkward conversation.

- Well…Just before the tragedy I spoke with Llys. I told him how I envied Fyra, how I wanted to be Fyra on this wedding. He told me that one day I will find a wonderful bride. But…

- It wasn’t the case, was it? – she asked.

Emil gasped. – W-wait! How did you even…

- I’m not fucking blind, you know. – she plainly looked at him, her gaze didn’t show any judgement, maybe a bit of concern.

- It’s just…I…Is something wrong with me? I really felt that way…I wanted to be on Fyra’s place and I would never say that to him of course, but I wanted Llys to be on king’s place.

Kaine kept silent, though somehow her gaze seemed encouraging. She wanted him to keep talking.

- I just…I imagined this ceremony…I, meaning my true self, will wear a white suit holding a great bouquet of lunar tears and Llys, he will be dressed in black and grey cause I think these colors look great on him. Everyone will be singing and dancing, eating tasty food, tossing flower petals over their heads. And…and you will be there too, Kaine. Cheering and laughing with others! No, don’t give me that look! I know that you will join us this time.

His imagination flowed onwards and onwards but he was so overwhelmed with these thoughts and ideas that he never wanted to stop. And Kaine didn’t seem to bother.

- Weiss will probably grumble again but he will end up sharing jokes with guests. Yonah will be there too, she will cook one of her special dishes! And Devola and Popola! I’ve heard that they have angelic voices and their singing is magnificent…And me and Llys, we will cheer with you. He will take my hand and lead me onwards…We will stand in front of everyone and someone will say: Now, you can seal your marriage with a kiss! And Llys he will…he will kiss me and then I…

His speech ended abruptly as his eyes accidentally caught a glimpse of a skeleton hand. He stared at it stupidly as if it wasn’t his, waiting for a real hand of flesh and bone to replace this monstrous limb. Realization stroke him like a lightning bolt. How could you forget something like this?

- No…No, what am I saying…O God…I am so sorry, I never really meant any of this, please don’t take it seriously. Just please, forget it, Kaine!

His body started to shake, he felt like he will burst into tears. But they never came. Another reminder to toss away these stupid dreams…He sobbed. Long skeleton limbs gathered around to protect him from the outside world. Only to be stopped by firm grip on his arm.

- Quit your whining, goddammit! – Kaine rarely raised her voice at him before. But now she was furious, flickers of red in her eyes. In a one harsh movement she pulled him up and looked directly at his face. There was no chance for Emil to avoid those eyes now. – Listen to me, Emil. And listen carefully. I don’t give a fuck about this romantic fluffy stuff you were babbling about. But here is what I know: if you love someone than fucking go for it, no whirling around. Trust me, we don’t have time for this bullshit.

- I know why you hesitate – “look at my body, I am so disgusting, I am a monster, no one will ever love me”. I am a monster too, Emil. And yet I had grandma who cared about me, protected me from those fuckers in the Aerie, who loved me. And then I found Llys. You found Llys. Did he treat you like you were a freak back then when you still haven’t lost your human form?

- N-no. – Emil managed to answer between his quiet sobs. – He was gentle, kind to me even if I was a total stranger.

- Did his attitude change when you transformed?

- No, no…When I realized that I had changed I started to cry. I hated myself so much…But still he hugged me. Told me that we will figure something out.

- That’s what I’m talking about. Our small group is a motherfucking freak show – stupid floating book, skeleton boy, possessed bitch. And yet he took us all in, accepted our sins and our souls. Don’t doubt him, Emil. He won’t abandon you.

- What I am trying to say is that you shoudn’t think for Llys. He has his own head on his shoulders and if you ever come up with confession he will answer without hurting your feelings. And well, if he won’t I’ll shove the stick right up his ass!

- Kaine! Don’t say things like that!

- Shut up and let me finish my thought. – Kaine let him go and Emil slowly retreated to his seat still sobbing. – I don’t know if the answer will be yes or no. What I DO know is that you, Emil, deserve love. Yes, you look like a skeleton but you are the kindest, the gentlest creature on this goddamn earth. You saved everyone in that village, you sacrificed your body to get me back. Such souls are so hard to find… like lunar tears. You. Deserve. Love. Never even try to tell me otherwise!

She breathed in heavily, tired from this improvised speech. Silence fell over their camp disturbed only by cracking of fire. Emil’s sobs died with Kaine’s words.

- The only thing to do is to tell him about your feelings. The sooner the better.

- I know that we don’t have much time. But the only thing Llys thinks of now is Yonah. And I…I don’t want to disturb his grief and add even more problems.

His voice still trembled from the crying but with each phrase spoken he seemed to become more confident.

- We all need to focus on Yonah’s rescue, so I’ll probably save my…my confession for later. I will tell him everything after we return from the Shadowlord’s castle.

***

That night Emil dreamt. He saw a mansion as big as the one where he had been locked up for his entire life but this one wasn’t so ominous. Sunrays knocked at the windows, green moss crawled up the walls, the front doors were wide open welcoming every traveler inside. Birds sang their praises to the sun hidden behind the branches of gigantic oak, a wild boar tamed by Llys rolled in circles on the grass. The waters of the nearby lake glistened invitingly, one gaze just enough to go swimming. Though Llys probably spent all his time fishing. Behind the mansion he saw a small garden with long rows of vegetables and entire flowerbeds vibrant with lunar tears. Wow, Llys has finally found a way to grow them…

On the second floor there was a library: books gathered from Seafront and Façade and from Llys’s village, books on languages long forgotten, scientific reports, treasure maps, musical scores…Everything was there for him to dig in, to reveal all the secrets the history of humanity has to offer. He heard the sounds of music from the first floor – someone was playing the piano and two angelic voices followed the tune. Popola entered the song after Devola and their voices intertwined beautifully when they reached the refrain.

Kaine was there, sitting casually on a chair, her terrifying blades nowhere to be seen. Yonah, her arms crossed on the chest, stood near Kaine, completely devoured by the song. Grimoire Weiss floated nearby trying to follow the rhythm. The young king of Façade and his wife Fyra were dancing gracefully in the center of the room and another pair of more clumsy dancers whirled around them – they both had red bags fastened on their shoulders.

Only then Emil turned his gaze to the piano. And stunned. An older version of himself, no more than nineteen years old, was playing the piano, his lilac eyes serious and focused, movements of his fingers precise and quick. He was not alone…Another pair of hands joined him, clumsily pressing on piano keys.

Llys was there…By his side.

When the song finally came to the end the dancers stopped catching their breaths. The red bag couple immediately started their usual argument – who stepped on whose foot and who was the first to lose rhythm during the dance. The king shouted praises to musicians, his wife nodding fiercely.

Kaine shrugged but he caught a glimpse of smile on her always emotionless face. Yonah clapped so hard that Weiss started to accuse her of creating additional vibrations making his floating more difficult. The twins laughed cheerfully at his grumbling.

Emil’s heart almost stopped when he looked again at the pair at the piano. Llys placed his hands around the waist of his older version, he saw himself blushing vividly at the touch. While everyone else was talking, clapping and laughing, Llys’s head rested on his shoulder, nose poking at the curve of his neck. With one lazy movement Llys cupped his blushing cheek and turned Emil, so he could see his face. There was a question on his lips, something unimportant, stupid even but it all died immediately when Llys covered Emil’s lips with his. Emil stumbled just for a second but then his lilac eyes closed and he eagerly returned the kiss placing his hands in a soft white mess of Llys’s hair.

- I want to stay here forever

***

In the Shadowlord’s castle

- Emil, no!

- Get back here! EMIL!

He could perfectly hear their shouts from here. His small sphere floated back dragged by Popola’s magic. There isn’t much time. The sphere containing his friends successfully reached the other side of the broken bridge and he sighed in relief casting a dispel.

They’ve made it. Good. They still have a chance to defeat the Shadowlord.

…

You are such a coward.

I didn’t have the strength to confess. I failed.

You lost your chance. I’m sorry.

…

The black void devoured him completely. Small cracks started to appear on the light-blue surface of the sphere looking like spider webs. Beautiful.

Llys…I…

I love you

I want to see you again.

I want to see all of you again.

I don’t want to die.

There is so much I wanted to tell you, Llys

Perhaps, in another life.

The sphere crushed under the pressure of the void. It continued to collapse until it reached the size of an apple. As hungrily and fiercely the void devoured everything on its way before as calmly and peacefully it turned into golden ashes carried away by the winds.

Emil’s scepter fell on the ground with an ominous ringing.

In another life.

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 8

Day 8 - The temperature of your chest gets hotter when you are closer to your soulmate and colder when you move further away. (D&D AU)

Pairing(s): Romantic Roceit, Romantic Background Analogical

TWs: Swearing

–

“Oh I adore being made out to be the bad guy here.”

“You robbed the lair of the Dragon Witch! It’s literally your fault that we are mired in this bog of despair!”

Roman’s accusation rang loudly within the wagon as they made the long ride back to Amoresse to rest for the night. Janus rolled his serpentine eyes, 

“You, dear delusional knight, are totally not the one who went and killed said Dragon Witch, thus leaving her treasure for the taking.”, the half Yuan-Ti hissed, appropriately, “Besides, you can absolutely take the moral high ground here when you stole her crown at the first opportunity.”

The pristine elven knight gasped dramatically, clutching his figurative pearls at such an accusation! 

“This is an outrage-!”

“Both of you shut the fuck up or I’m driving this wagon off the nearest goddamn cliff!!”

Roman and Janus both immediately quietened down at the threat issued so casually by their wagon driver as the dhampir hissed curses under his breath. The two in the back glared at each other back and forth, avoiding looking towards the wrecked fabric of the canopy and the splintered wood. In Roman’s defense, he hadn’t known that grabbing the crown specifically would cause the Dragon Witch’s castle to fall to ruin around them. He’d realised his mistake almost immediately when he felt the dark magic radiating off of it. However, he couldn’t bring himself to admit that was the case. Especially not around Janus, the damn snake wouldn’t let him live it down. 

Being careful to pick his moment, Roman hazarded a glance over at the reptilian rapscallion eyeing up his spoils; Janus was an enigmatic entity to Roman, showing such sophistication and poise while also being prone to stumbling over his words or his own two feet in the same breath. Unabashedly, he displayed selfishness unrivalled by even the most aristocratic nobility, but in a pinch, was fully able to toss aside even the most valuable of artifacts to save a life. 

Roman had tried not to think about it. The noble and chivalrous knight, Roman of Sandaria, being saved from the jaws of death by a conman who, by all accounts, he had fully expected to leave him to die. The elven man wasn’t sure where his resentment lay; perhaps Roman thought he should’ve been able to save himself, perhaps he felt guilty for misjudging Janus but couldn’t find it in him to admit it, or perhaps it was an underlying prejudice from his training days. Yeah, he really  didn’t want to think about it.

Instead, Roman made his way to sit up front next to the moody wagon driver, making light conversation,

“I should be the one manning the wagon, your highness.”

“Roman, I’ve told you before, you can just call me by my name.”, the dhampir met Roman with piercing silver eyes, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t understand my- Virgil,”, he corrected at the last second, “Nothing’s wrong. Aside from the fact you refuse to allow me to call you by your title-”

“That’s horseshit and you know it, Roman.”, Virgil kept his eyes on the road, anxious over the possibility of a crash if he kept his gaze averted too long, “I’ve known you since we were kids, I can tell when you’re lying. Besides, being called ‘your highness’ feels wrong as it is. Coming from you? It’s even fucking weirder than this whole marrying into royalty thing...”

Roman rolled his eyes but sat closer to offer Virgil a one-armed hug. The latter gave it a moment before accepting the gesture, “Virgil, you’ll be fine. If any one of us was suited to princedom, I cannot think of a better candidate. And your future husband is unreasonably attractive, so I don’t see what you have to complain about-”

“Oh my god, shut UP!”, Virgil chuckled and shoved Roman playfully. “I mean, you’re not wrong but the last thing I need is to think too hard about Logan and crash this stupid fucking shambles of a wagon!” 

The lighthearted banter did wonders to distract Roman until Virgil managed to get things back on track unfortunately, “Now, stop deflecting and tell me what’s got you so gloomy, Sir-Sing-A-Lot.”

Roman rolled his eyes at the old nickname, “I’m fine, Virge, really. I merely wish our cascading castle adventure had been a little less…ruinous.”

“.... Was that a fucking pun-”

“Ahem.”, Janus cleared his throat from behind the two of them, “I do so loathe to interrupt.... whatever this is,”, he gestured between the two of them, “But I believe that’s our stop up ahead. Wouldn’t want to go destroying that as well.”

With that, the serpentine rogue slunk back into the wagon. Roman muttered something under his breath, inaudible to Virgil, before reluctantly joining the scaled nuisance bagging up his wares. The elven knight made sure to keep his crown tucked into his rucksack, just in case thievery was something to be wary of in Amoresse. The town’s reputation, however, gave Roman hope that their visit would prove more helpful than hindering; the rumours told of a town renowned for helping wayward, lonely souls find their soulmates. As a single, disaster gay, Roman sure hoped the rumours were true. Truly he could think of nothing sadder than turning up alone to his best friend’s wedding.

Getting booked into their rooms at the tavern was a far easier ordeal than having to endure the overly chaotic gate guard to the city. The bizarre tiefling had spent so long rambling on and on about the most grotesque topics that by the time they had successfully secured a wagon bay, the moon now shone in all her celestial beauty. Virgil had suggested resting for the night, and despite Roman’s urging that they stay together, Janus had been insistent on checking out the nightlife. The knight had been content to let him do so while he guarded the prince, but the tired dhampir insisted he too take the night to enjoy himself. Roman would have argued further had Virgil not issued the suggestion as an order after his first protest.

And that was how Roman found himself sitting at a small outdoor bar tended by a rather friendly dwarf. Said dwarf, Patton as he came to learn, was quite the chatterbox while Roman was content to take in the night air in spite of his earlier worries. 

“Say kiddo,”, the dwarf broke from his pleasant rambling, “you’re looking a little lonely there. You got something on your mind?”

Roman hadn’t expected that. He pursed his lips in thought. 

“I suppose I may as well be honest with you. I’ve been wondering if-”

“If the rumours are true?”, Patton finished, “Well, luckily for you, they are!”

He ducked down behind the counter and pulled up an ornate crystal bottle that contained a marvellous prismatic liquid inside. Roman watched with great interest as the dwarf pulled out a goblet and began to mix a sweet, fruity smelling drink before dropping in three drops of the colourful elixir.

“Anima Venenum”, Patton informed him, “Our town’s alchemist created it by accident a couple of centuries back, and ever since, we offer some to tourists who look like they need a little guidance in the ol’ world of love!”

Roman was mesmerised, “Really? You mean, I needn’t pay you for it?”

“Nope! Our only rule is to never hand it out to anyone who doesn’t ask us for it. It’s up to you if you wanna accept this, so no pressure. I just figured you looked like you might be in need of it.”

The knight had so many questions swirling around in his brain, but by the time he had settled on a single one, his hand was holding the goblet to his lips. The taste was citrusy like sweet clementines, but with a mixed berry and almost floral taste that reminded him of a rose wine. As the last of it slid down his throat, Roman noted a soft honey-like taste as he thanked Patton, 

“That tastes wonderful! I’ve never had an elixir that tasted so good.”

Patton chuckled, “Actually, the elixir itself is tasteless. People just take better to it when it's mixed with a good drink, otherwise the texture weirds ‘em out.”

“Ah, I see.”, Roman let out a gentle chuckle. He didn’t feel all that different, truth be told, and so he asked, “How will I know it’s working?”

“The effects are instantaneous, don’t you worry! It might be hard to notice at first, but when you’re near your soulmate, your heart will feel really warm- In a good way! Not like heartburn, so don’t worry about it feeling unpleasant.”, Patton assured him.

Roman nodded, making a note of it as he got up to leave before quickly asking, “Oh! How long will it last?”

Patton waved him off, assuring him, “It’ll last for as long as you need to find your soulmate, guaranteed!”

With the night reaching its peak, Roman found himself strolling along the cobbled streets back to the tavern when he felt it; a flicker of warmth in his heart. Soft as the beating of a butterfly’s wing but very much there. He followed the feeling until he came upon a narrow street, hardly lit by the lamps stationed at it’s opening. The street itself was largely empty bar a silhouette in the dark leaning against the stone bridge that arched over the shimmering water running beneath it. 

His heart raced as Roman approached the figure, the flames licking at his heart until he arrived about a foot from the entrance of the bridge. The figure turned to Roman, smirking a familiar smirk,

“Come to join me, oh loyal guardian of our beloved prince?”

Janus. His soulmate was Janus?! Roman couldn’t believe it, yet no matter how thoroughly he scanned the immediate area, not a single other soul revealed itself. The half Yuan-Ti raised a bemused eyebrow at Roman, “Please, do keep ignoring my question so you may continue to look like a fool.”

Roman scowled. Maybe the kindly dwarf was just teasing him? No, he didn’t seem the type. But this conman? His soulmate? Perhaps Roman would indulge it, see where that led him. Worth a shot anyway. 

“My apologies.”, was all Roman offered as he took a spot on the bridge next to Janus, the flames of his heart undeniably soaring to life at the close proximity. Janus gave Roman a puzzled glance which let Roman take in his features; a half scaled face and body that, the more he watched the moonlight dance along the scales, made Roman want to gently reach out and touch them. In fact, he had subconsciously been doing just that when Janus had held his wrist in place, “It’s not completely rude to just touch someone’s scales without permission. What’s gotten into that underbaked brain of yours, Roman?”

Flustered and embarrassed by his lack of tact, Roman uttered quietly, “Soulmate cocktail.”

“Pardon?”

Roman panicked, “So many cocktails. Is what I said. Like, 14 whole cocktails.” 

Great. Excellent save.

“..... You’re expecting me to believe that? Did you forget that I’m rather adept at being able to tell when someone’s lying to my face, Roman?”

End him. Just end him now. Roman wished a stray lightning bolt would smite him where he stood so he wouldn’t have to face his own stupidity. Quick, say something to help ease the situation.

“Okay. I had 16 cocktails.”, he stammered with a laugh, “I’m absolutely drunk. You got me, you clever reptile you!”

Roman of Sandaria you are a certified idiot. 

“.... Alright then. Prove it.”, Janus goaded him, locking onto Roman’s crimson eyes with his own citrine snake-like eyes. 

“Prove-?”

“Let me smell your breath.”, Janus clarified, getting closer. Each inch set Roman’s heart aflame all too literally. “If you’re as inebriated as you claim to be, your breath will absolutely stink.”

Shit.

“Uuuh, personal space-”, Roman began to move back, but Janus grasped the front of his tunic.

“Don’t give me that, Mister Personal-Space-Is-A-Societal-Construct, I’ve seen how often you get in your dear prince’s personal space...”, Roman could’ve sworn for a split second that Janus sounded resentful, or perhaps envious, before his tone took a more curious route, “... or perhaps could there be another reason you don’t want to be so close to me?”

The knight became aware of the burning within his chest threatening to rage out of control, the distance between them barely a couple of inches now. Roman wasn’t sure what to do, but the lure of Janus’ eyes and the way his ribcage radiated with a heat he’d never felt before spurred him to act; he leant forward and pressed his lips to the serpentine man before him.

It surprised Roman just how pleasant it felt, though he prepared himself for harsh retaliation from the half Yuan-Ti when he felt Janus take in a breath against his lips. However, Roman was pleasantly surprised to find that Janus, not only didn’t issue him a well-earned slap and spend the rest of the night cussing him out, but instead kissed him back even harder. Not that Roman was complaining. By the time they pulled back for air, Roman didn’t even notice the fire in his heart subsiding to be replaced with a more natural warmth as Janus’ hands softly caressed Roman’s cheeks. “I’ll be the first to admit, I totally saw the night heading that direction.”, Janus mused in surprise.

Roman let out a hearty chuckle, hardly even noticing that he’d subconsciously wrapped his arms around Janus.

“Care to tell me what brought this on, Roman of Sandaria?”

Just hearing his name spoken in such an enticing dulcet made his knees feel weak; how had Roman never noticed how beautiful Janus’ voice was? His mind was too busy latching onto every octave, every syllable, that he nearly forgot to answer him. He took Janus’ scaled hand and pressed his lips to it in a gentle gesture his soulmate clearly wasn’t used to if the flustered way he averted his eyes was anything to go by,

“I suppose you could say I did a little soul searching.”

----

Have some straight up Roceit fluff, this came out so cute.

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @lavender-mochi [I know you love your Roceit so I figured I’d tag you incase you needed this] @fandomsofrandom [I nearly missed the reblog where you asked to be added I’m so sorry]

[etlunainmorte]

The Sick Rose ( V X Reader )

~ A request by a lovely friend from Twitter about a Modern College AU V helping a dear underclassman reader with her assignment. I hope you like it.

***

There. He saw her sitting on her own again on that old bench next to that tree.

And this time, she's reading something. Seemed like an old book.

She never noticed or suspected anything. Or maybe he was just too careful not to be noticed. But, whatever the case was, V would always see her sitting there, alone, and minding her own business. And she would never notice anything else while she's preoccupied in that tiny, private bubble of hers.

Normally, V would be minding his own business, as well. Either going to his next class alone while streaming Paganini or Debussy on his phone for his ears only, or listening to his best friends, Nero and Nico, talk about their favorite games and movies on their way back to their dorms. V has always been preoccupied with something else to notice anything.

Until this freshman, that is.

It began just a little over a week ago. And it was during one of those rare occasions where some seniors would get the opportunity to observe the junior literary classes. Or sometimes, take over as "assistant professors" for these underclassmen for a while.

During that time, the poor professor had to go to the clinic due to a very unsavory reason he opted not to disclose, and kindly asked V to take over for the meantime. He was teaching the comedic works of William Shakespeare.

While most of the students were clearly bored out of their own wits ( some were extremely interested for reasons V chose not to overthink about ), he noticed one person who looked genuinely interested in the topic.

That girl from the last row.

V noticed how she listened to every explanation and every word he said. Every so often, he would see her nod as she took some notes. And one time even, she tried to raise a hand to ask him something but, she somehow withdrew at the last moment. V honestly wondered why, because he would've gladly answered any questions she would ask.

The next day, V noticed her sitting on that bench with her headphones on while doodling something on her tablet. He tried to get her attention but, he chose not to since he didn't want to bother her, or anything. And the day after that, on that very same spot he saw her writing something on a journal, still with her headphones on. Either way, ever since that impromptu Shakespeare lecture, V found himself somehow a bit drawn to her and her sunny, and yet curious vibes. He would be lying if he told himself that was not the case.

It all began just a little over a week ago, and she didn't even notice him looking at her, not even once.

However this time, V noticed there was something off about her. Like something changed in that light - hearted disposition of hers that always drew him in. He tried to pinpoint what exactly, and after a short while, he noticed her intense facial expression as she poured all of her focus on that old book she most probably borrowed from the library. There was something a bit tense in the way she flipped those pages, the little trembling of those fingers as they moved, and the way she curled her lips as they slightly opened and closed when she read.

And most importantly, it looked like she needed some help. An urgent one.

Excusing himself from his two best friends, he composed himself and went towards her. Brushing an almost invisible crumb off his crisp white shirt, he cleared his throat and thanked the Gods above that he somehow remembered her name.

"Miss (L/N)?" He awkwardly began. Then, seeing that she didn't hear him, he spoke once more. "Miss (L/N)?"

Oh, the way her eyes widened when she finally noticed! The way that mouth of hers dropped and the way she almost lost her composure the moment their eyes met.

It's as if the girl didn't really expect that he would casually approach her like this.

And honestly? It kind of made V's heart jump. But only a little bit. He really wanted to help her, so he tried his very best not to get swept off by his own emotions and focused on the problem ahead.

"Mr. Sparda!" She stuttered, scrambling on her feet. "I d - didn't expect you to - "

"Please, no need to worry." V reassured her as calmly as he could. The girl remembered his name as well, and his traitorous heart did more than just jump this time around.

Relax, V. Relax. He thought. You're here to help an underclassman.

"You seem to be,... ahh,... having a little difficulty on that,... book of yours." V went on, in a voice he hoped was calm enough. "Would you indulge this fool and let him help you with whatever you need?"

There. He said it. Did he sound too strange? Was he too forward? Did he sound creepy? She did look like a meteor has just crash landed in front of her.

But, whatever the case was, there's no turning back now.

"Umm," She began as she handed V the old book.

And by Jove! V almost flipped when he realized what it was! It was none other than Blake, himself! His favorite poet!

"I quite don't understand William Blake." The girl went on. "His words are simple and yet, when I try to explain them, or make sense of them, ahh,... I don't know! The words just avoid me." She collapsed on the bench and sighed as she massaged her temples. The works of Blake seemed to give her such headaches.

Sitting right next to her, he asked, "What do you find difficult about Blake's work?"

"You see, about this rose thing." She said, leaning slightly closer to him as she pointed at some words on the book on his hands.

Her hair smelled nice,...

No, V! Focus!

"I don't know if it's talking about an actual plant, or something that is actually sick,... "

"Love."

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh! I mean,... " And for a moment there, V felt his sweat run cold the moment he uttered that word.

And the girl? She seemed to tense when she heard the very word.

Like he somehow hit a deep chord within her.

"The Sick Rose is about love."

"Love?" She repeated. "You mean, a sick kind of love?"

"Well, yes." V said with a knowing smile on his face. "You know the saying love is blind? Most of the times, love prevents you from seeing the whole truth. Thus, the invisible worm."

"And the crimson joy?" There. Those glistening eyes of hers as she hang onto his every word,...

"The crimson joy means deep, dark love. The kind of love that destroys the purity and innocence of the rose."

"I,... see,... " The girl uttered, more to herself than to V.

Seeing that she's still not somehow convinced, he explained further. "You know when you love someone too much to the point of blindness, it destroys not only the person but yourself, as well. The true meaning of your feelings would be replaced with that of obsession, of selfishness. Of destruction and corruption. Of wanting this person only to yourself and no one else's. You keep this person enclosed deeply inside your own affections until the purity and innocence of their own feelings towards you die. And sometimes, this sickness grows too large, it affects other people as well. And that is the death of true love, as we know it."

The girl pondered for a while, thinking about everything V has just told her. Then, after a while, she shook her head as she grinned and chuckled to herself. And V found this quite amusing.

"Yeah, like," She said in a low voice, like a penitent confessing her sins before a priest. "You're loving someone too much, you fail to notice how destructive it has become to them and to yourself. The invisible worm. I get it now." She faced V once more, and with a bright smile, she said, "I guess I don't want to write an analysis on The Sick Rose, after all!"

This made V's eyes wide with both shock and surprise. "Oh, that's,... I see! Well, you - "

"But, thank you so much for your help, Mr. Sparda. It truly feels like you've taken a peek inside my deepest and darkest secrets."

"Pardon - ?"

"Can you help me choose a different Blake poem, instead? Something that feels lighter and brighter?" And just like that, after having a small glimpse of her own precious thoughts, V felt that she closed her doors on his face once more. Of course, there was something more about this girl, something that made him see a different color about her. Something,... intense for a change, that clashed with that sunny vibe she often showed to most people. And to him.

And it made her even more interesting to V.

This mysterious girl,...

... he has to know more about her.

"What about The Cradle Song?" V offered as he gestured towards her headphones that he saw peeking from her school bag. "We can listen to the actual song instead of me explaining it."

The girl smiled and she nodded, accepting the offer. "Sounds good to me."

It was safe to say that V and the girl has established some sort of solid connection between the two of them after listening to that song. Afterwards, she even recommended him one of her favorites, a song called Honesty by someone who wears pink and sweats a lot. At least in V's understanding of that particular band's name. Nevertheless, V enjoyed that one, and more other songs she recommended whenever they get the chance to see each other, whether to study, read books, or to just hang out.

As friends? Maybe yes. Maybe not. Who could say?

All V knew was that he was glad he approached her that day when she needed help with that Blake poem analysis. And those conflicting feelings she chose not to reveal at first.

***

[mytardisisparked]

Sir dude, if it would please your dudeness, I think you should write a fic set in a world where family members are tied together by an invisible string, and Obi-Wan somehow manages to catch a glimpse of the string through the force, connecting him to... Korkie. Que the realization that Korkie is actually his son and that Satine hid the truth from him

Before I start with the fic, I just wanna say that this is, without a doubt, the funniest way anyone has addressed me ever and I am now making my roommates call me “Sir Dude” and “Your Dudeness.” God bless you, Anon. 

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

They were only visible during the deepest meditation, the Familial Strings. When a Jedi dipped into the Force completely, the usually invisible strings connecting family members shone a bright gold, creating a beautiful, confusing tangle of lives, loves, and loyalty.

Familial Strings were quite literal, usually, only showing connections between blood family or marriages. Occasionally, the Force would deem two people who were not of a romantic entanglement close enough to qualify a Familial String, but they usually only indicated a bond through blood. 

Obi-Wan, like most Jedi, didn’t dwell on his Familial Strings; he knew they were there, leading back to Stewjon, but he tried not to study them often to avoid the temptation of reaching out to the parents he had never known. As one who secretly struggled with attachments, thinking too much about a family he had never know would be a very dangerous thing.

All that being said, Obi-Wan was aware of the number of strings he had (5) and the fact that two of those strings had been created after he had begun his apprenticeship, shortly after his first long-term mission with his master. He had been puzzled by their arrival, but he had quickly pushed his ponderings aside and chosen to assume that his birth parents must have given birth to twins.

Now, sitting rigid with a pit in his stomach in his temporary quarters on Mandalore, he was coming to the realization that that assumption was very, very wrong.

One Familial String led from Obi-Wan’s chest right out the door and across the hall to Duchess Satine’s room. This revelation had been surprising enough; Obi-Wan loved Satine far more than he had ever cared to admit, but the fact that the Force had deemed them close enough and in love enough to connect them by a string wasn’t something Obi-Wan had ever considered. 

Even more curious, however, was the second string that deviated from the bundle aimed at Stewjon, directed to the room to his left. At the risk of breaking the meditation he needed to see the strings, Obi-Wan slowly stood and moved out into the hallway, watching that second string pivot around his heart so that it remained connected with the individual in the room next to his.

He swallowed as he looked at the door to that room, the room of Prince Korkie Kryze, Satine’s nephew.

Without another thought, Obi-Wan spun around and knocked on Satine’s door, knowing he was breaking every rule of propriety. She opened the door after the second knock, as if she had been waiting for him.

As the door swung open, Obi-Wan was faintly aware of the fact that Satine looked absolutely ethereal in the moonlight streaming through her window, her hair brushing the tops of her shoulders and her pale skin glowing. This, however, he pushed aside quickly as the contents of his stomach churned at the realization from moments before.

“Obi-Wan?” Her voice was soft and concerned.

“Satine.” His voice was harder than he intended for it to sound. “I believe we need to talk.”

Without another word, she stepped aside and invited him into her quarters.

The room, which was comfortably furnished and separated from her actual sleeping quarters by a wall and double doors. She led him over to the settee, choosing to sit across from him in an armchair, her face wary.

He fingered the edge of his robe, choosing his words carefully. “I was meditating this evening when I noticed something interesting about my Familial Lines.”

Satine’s face remained passive, but something shifted in her eyes. “Oh.”

“I never realized it before, but one of my lines is connected to you. I had two lines appear after our year together and I should have guessed that one line was yours but I never gave it much thought.” He swallowed and looked up at Satine, her face still carved of stone, though her eyes were glassy. For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, Obi-Wan suddenly felt very small. “But that second line-” he stopped and took a breath, finding his chest quite tight, “maybe you can explain why I have a Familial Line connected to Korkie.”

A tear spilled over Satine’s eye, quickly swiped away by a finger. “I think you know why, my dear.”

Obi-Wan’s vision blurred as tears began to collect in his own eyes. “He’s my son?”

Her lip quivered as she nodded, wiping another tear.

He let out a breath, his chest constricting more. “How could you not tell me?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Despite her tears, Satine’s face suddenly hardened. “How could I have told you?” She stood and turned toward the windows. “You, who were so nobly pursuing the life of a Jedi-”

“I would have left the Jedi. I was prepared to leave for you.”

She turned back to him. “Which is exactly why I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t tear you away from your dream.”

“Maybe you were my dream.” 

She looked shocked for a moment, but the expression was gone from her face as quickly as it had come. “Be that as it may, I also had to think of Korkie. He is the future Duke of Mandalore and having a Jedi father would have lost his respect in the eyes of his people. He would have had to work harder to gain their trust and even then his Jedi heritage would have been thrown in his face by those who would oppose him at every turn.”

Obi-Wan felt a sharp jolt of offense. “That’s a rather cold and calculating line of thought,” he said, voice low.

Satine’s brows furrowed. “Oh, as if the Jedi tradition of tearing children from their families, never to know them or be loved by them is any warmer.”

“At least the parents of our younglings have the knowledge that their children exist and are being raised by those who will provide them with the care and nurturing that they need to-”

“Do you mean to imply that I didn’t raise our son with care and nurturing love?” She snapped.

Obi-Wan’s heart fell as he realized the implications of his words. “Forgive me, that is not what I meant to imply. I didn’t think.”

Satine rubbed her eyes, suddenly looking exhausted. “I know, Obi. I just...” She slid back into her chair, shoulders slumped.

They were silent for a while, each processing their thoughts.

“What is he like?”

Satine looked up at the Jedi, elbows leaning on his knees and ginger fringe falling in his eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

Obi-Wan met her eye. “Korkie - what is he like?”

Despite everything that had happened in the last ten minutes, Satine’s heart warmed a bit in pride. “He’s incredibly smart.” She smiled softly. “Smarter than either of us, I think. And an excellent negotiator; he’s done a great deal in terms of welcoming new systems into the Alliance these last few years. Although,” she smirked, “he knows how to land an elegant insult when needed. He nearly got himself thrown from the academy for implying that his science teacher had inhaled the fumes of too many chemicals.”

Obi-Wan smiled at that. “I wonder who he inherited that trait from.”

“Definitely not me,” Satine sniffed, barely holding back a smile. 

Another moment of slience.

“Does he know about us?”

She took a breath. “He knows I am his mother, but I never told him your name, just stories of you and our time together.”

“Do you ever plan to tell him?”

“I-” She sighed. “I don’t know. I think the two of you would get along splendidly but I also want to provide him plausible deniability in case someone were to figure out that I am not his aunt. There are already rumors of the matter and I fear what might happen if Mandalore were to fall into the wrong hands.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I can see the logic of that.”

“Do you want me to tell him?” she asked tentatively.

He thought for a moment. “What I want is for us to turn back time and be a family together from the start. But, seeing as that isn’t possible, maybe could I get to know Korkie a bit? He doesn’t need to know who I am, but perhaps I could spend some time with him and get to know my son?”

Satine smiled. “I think that would be good.”

“Good.” Obi-Wan smiled back. “Thank you, Satine.”

She took his hand. “And thank you, Obi-Wan. Korkie has been the best part of my life since we said goodbye and, although our situation isn’t ideal, he is the greatest gift.”

He squeezed her hand. “He looks a bit like me, doesn’t he?”

She laughed. “We will have to be careful about having you two stand next to each other; you have the same jawline.”

“He can never grow a beard.”

“He might have to dye his hair when he gets a little older.”

They chuckled.

“If you would like, I could host a breakfast tomorrow, just for the three of us.” 

Obi-Wan nodded. “I would like that very much.”

[toughguywithbossygirlfriend]

Dark Nights :Death Metal #1

After DC Comics Amazing event “Dark Nights : Metal” centered on Batman, we get a sequel called “Dark Nights : Death Metal” centered on Wonder Woman (with even more Batmen everywhere...).

Written by Scott Snyder and Penciled by Capullo the new event looks even more nuts then the first one and I have to say .. I love it ... one of the first pages presents what is left of the DCU after the fight against the evil all powerful Perpetua and the Dark Universe’s “Batman Who Laughs” ... Obviously our Heroes lost the fight and survive as best they can in what’s left of the DC Multiverse

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

What’s left of their Universe’s Earth is a world looking like a Bat, with a head, a body, and two wings. Is it even useful to add that the main Lands are related to :

-The “Head” of the Bat... the Brain ... Batman (at least the one who laughs)

-The “Body” of the Bat... Themiscyra ... Wonder Woman..

For the first time for as long as I remember a Crisis level Event seems centered around Wonder Woman, and of course Batman. Usually it would have been about Superman and Batman or eventually about the Trinity... but since the start of Rebirth I have the feeling the wheels are turning for Diana, slowly but surely she climbs up to and mabe one day will take over Superman’s position ... and unlike Clark Kent she has the potential and the history to be paired up with the real undisputed King of DC Comics : Batman.

 (Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

While the “Batman who laughs” is the King of this World ... Diana exchanged her tiara for a crown and is the “Queen of the Underworld” ... giving us a little taste of the DCAU where her “father” wasn’t Zeus but Hades (Lord of the Underworld) ... She rules over Themyscira and Guards the gate to Tartarus ... Obviously she agreed to that role because the Batman Who Laughs uses others lives as leverage (including her Amazon sisters).. In this first Issue She is summoned by her Evil Master to his Castle-Bat ... One thing is very clear she doesn’t consider any of those numerous “Dark Universes Batmen” as “Batman” ... there is only one she calls “Batman”, her Bruce ... the others are just “monsters”, “demons”,...

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

Once she arrived at Castle Bat and faces the Batman Who Laughs and his countless Batmen variants (some are really weird but its really a lot of fun)... in the middle of the meeting, she suddenly gets a telepathic message !?!.. from the one and only Batman, her Batman. Of course she is stunned there is no J’onn J’ozz to establish such a Link ... it reminded me of Diana’s statement in DC Comics “Superman : Heroes #1″ when she told Bruce that he can do everything Superman does, some even better then him...

Obviously he can copy the Martian Manhunter as well.

Once the shock is over, Diana’s first reaction is to worry for his safety ... “Just PLEASE tell me you’re far from here.”. Yes ! Diana can panic ! we’ll get proof of that later ;)...The answer he gives her is of course meant to reassure her : “Across the Universe”... Little test, who believes that ? ... Yeah, figured as much XD... Then we learn that he knows that she started to melt down her Invisible jet but he couldn’t detect its magic moving !?!! ... copying Zatanna or Constantine here ? ...

Who needs a Justice League if you have a Batman ! XD... Diana, my Dear, catch that guy then you can start a full Justice League with just the two of you  ;)

Batman and Magic ??  This may seem surprising but in reality it has already been addressed in Liam Sharp’s “The Brave and the Bold : Batman and Wonder Woman” Issue #2. In it you can see Bruce suggesting Alfred they should build something able to detect magic... (second picture below - we’ll talk about the first later)

(Edit from “The Brave and the Bold : Batman and Wonder Woman” Issue #2)

Lets not forget Batman was the one who searched, hired and befriended Madame Xanadu (the Sorceress Nimue from the Arthurian mythology) recently in “Justice League” and already knows a bunch of Magic users that he can gather knowledge from. He knows, if Wondy is involved, most of the time it is about magic and if he cares for her (quite obvious in Justice League Dark(2018) #12)... he’s got to get a better knowledge of Magic.. plus If you wanted to make a longer series of comics based on Wonder Woman and Batman (a sibling to Batman-Superman) you would need the Dark Knight to understand better what he would have to face ... Maybe that’s what DC wants to do in the near future... Superman’s power are useless against Magic, but Intelligence is always accurate no matter if its about Science, Magic or anything else. And Batman’s main power is his genius level IQ... 

But lets return to our comic.

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

After mentioning it in “Dark Nights : Metal #5″, the “Batman Who Laughs” can’t help but to tell Diana again that there are Worlds where the “Dianas and the Bruces” are Lovers and Parents, ... Just in case she forgot ...XD ... (considering what Scott Snyder said about the sales of this comics, as well as his previous Event, we may assume that most of the comic readers are now used to the fact that those too can be a committed pair).

The “Batman who laughs” knows Diana really well and understood that she was hiding something from him. No doubt he hunts his alter-ego with the greatest attention ... he knows how dangerous he can be. So he threatens Diana to kill whats left of he parliament of Trees, leaving her with no choice... and threatening Diana is something the real “Batman” obviously can’t allow ... Bruce shoots a non-lethal crossbow bolt on the BMWL, revealing himself, to distract the BMWL from Diana ... it worked.

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

"BRUCE... NO.” ... Like I said Diana can panic if it is about Him ... XD

I Wonder if the BMWL threatened Diana on purpose knowing very well this would be enough for his Alter-ego to reveal himself if he was near enough. The “Batman who laughs” explored enough worlds to know how much those two care for each other... Lovers ... Parents ... you get the drift...

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

While Diana was a rather obedient servant to her “Master” because she knew her sisters lives as well as her friends lives where at stakes, she gives up every care and opposes the evil Batmen to give Bruce the opportunity to flee. Much like in the “Blackest Night : WW”, Diana puts Bruce over everything else, Bruce’s safety trumps the safety of every one that the BMWL keeps as leverage against her ... she has to know there’s gonna be a cost.

But Bruce/Batman doesn’t flee, ... not immediately ... because if he did she would be punished for her action ... instead he stays, awaiting the Horde of Evil Batmen to kill him... something that distracts the “Batman Who Laughs” from Diana enough to forget or excuse what she did. But Bruce is always prepared, and this isn’t different ...  God knows how but he found a Black Lantern Ring and uses it to raise a little army of undead warriors in the mood to rip some evil Batmen into pieces.

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

While Diana has been easily “frozen” by the Bat-Mage, and once the Fight between Bruce’s undead soldiers and the evils Batmen is started, Batman knows his Enemy is distracted enough to forget about Diana’s rebellion., .. plus the BMWL would keep her alive just because she is the best way to lure Batman out of his hiding as just proven ... She will be safe, so he leaves.

This Event is fantastic and I can’t wait to see how it unfolds.

I guess Scott Snyder loves the Idea of Bruce as some sort of “God of Death” even if he is mortal. see my previous post :

https://toughguywithbossygirlfriend.tumblr.com/post/190316770026/diana-goddess-of-war-bruce-god-of

A mortal “God of Death” ? It is a concept already explored by Fritz Lieber in his Collection “Sword and Sorcery” about the Heroes “Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser”. Basically if the “God of Death” gets killed (a hard feat) he re-incarnates a little later in another body because without a “God of death” nothing dies.

(Edited from DC Comics Wonder Woman (1942) Issue 202 back in 1972)

Who would have thought that Diana (with Selina) already had an encounter with the Heroes of that World ... so the concept of the “God of Death” being a “mortal” shouldn't be new to her ... ;) ...

In "Death Metal”, Diana is the leading Character and she obviously has not the same goal as Bruce: Diana wants to kill the BMWL and restore a Rich and Infinite Multiverse while Bruce wants to play it small, very small.

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

Bruce’s behavior seems a bit OOC but we will surely get some explanations later in the event as to why. Diana seems to take over the “Dreamy Positiveness” of Superman while Batman holds his “Pragmatic Strategic” line of thinking.

Of course Diana is fiercely independent, and even if she highly values Bruce’s POV she follows her own ... I guess the “Batman Who Laughs” knew her better than she thought, because he first repeated her Bruce’s plan ...

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

Then teases her about her own  ... and I am sure everyone reading the comic was ecstatic the moment Diana ripped the BMWL into pieces with her Chainsaw of truth ...

A move, we will learn later, that her own Bruce tried to avoid with reason ... a move the BMWL planed and expected, if not provoked, because it enabled him to ... upgrade to something infinitely more Powerful... Bruce was right ... again...

Even if Diana leads she will still need Bruce if she wants to win because it is true, ... it seems she can’t out plan the BMWL... only her Batman could do that ...

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

I think these re-incarnation in new Bodies is a way for DC Comics to make Bruce Wayne Immortal while keeping him a weak and mortal human (or not as for the BMWL). This has been explored for quite some time : starting with the “Dyonesium” and the “Final Invention”, Batman Last Knight on Earth, and now the BMWL’s death and return as ... “Final Bruce Wayne” ;)

With this there would be no need to reboot the universes to keep Bruce “Batman” Wayne young ... “every generation will have its Batman” ... If Bruce gets Killed ... you just re-incarnate him in a new younger Body ...

(Edited from DC Comics “Batman : Last Knight on Earth” Issue 1)

Diana is already immortal, Bruce would be as well but “re-incarnation” based, and if needed you just give Superman one more power to his already very long list (lets say “Solar re-rejuvenation” or something) ... For Bruce and Diana this would provide more reason to pair them up ... Without the need for more reboots their usual partners (Steve Trevor, Selina Kyle, ...) will now grow older and pass away... Public persona “Bruce Wayne” being with the Amazon could help cover up his weird immortality as gifts from her Gods... All the kids could grow older and new kids could be added more and more without loosing the 3 Big players.

But that’s speculation and we will have to wait and see what DC Comics is going to do and there are still open questions, but I would enjoy something like that.

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

The complementarity of both Heroes is expressed here again : Bruce is the “shield” while Diana is the “Sword”... so basically Bruce is the “defensive” while Diana is the “offensive” ... over writers use the reverse : “Wonder Woman was made to protect the innocent while Batman was made to punish the guilty” .. Wonder Woman is the “defensive” and Batman the “offensive” ... Depending on who writes them they will be one or the other but they are just naturally always the Yin and the Yang to each other.

[thefanficmonster]

Corpse Infested

Corpse Husband & Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of dysfunctional family, Family problems, Swearing

Genre: Humor, Comfort, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When your friend disappears for a long time, seemingly having lost interest in what fueled the most passionate fire in their life, you cannot not worry about them. Even if you wanna give them space, you will reach out, you will offer your help. You will tell them they always have you to rely on and talk to.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request, but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and if you do I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

For me, it’s never hard to find things to do. I’ve constantly got things on my mind and tasks to tend to, keeping me occupied and my mind focused at all times. I think that comes with living in a home as dysfunctional as this one. I honestly can’t recall a time when my parents got along nor can I think of a time where there was at least one second of peace while the two are both present in the house. It’s always a warzone up there. I’m saying up there because I tend to live out of the basement of their home. I know living in your parents’ basement is considered a peak loser point, or the bottom of the bottom, but you’d have to believe me when I say - I wasn’t always like this. In fact, I only recently came back to this hell-hole and boy do I regret it. I mean, it was a decision forced upon me by circumstances. Trust me, I tried every other option there was. When my dorm was to be closed down and demolished, we were given a notice to start planning our next move about a month early. You can bet I immediately started looking at places but my very tragic and miserable budget didn’t allow such a purchase. No rent was adequate for me and my near-empty wallet so my second option was moving in with my best friend who was also not in the greatest of situations but I thought I’d give that a shot too.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t work out. She lived in a tiny apartment with her boyfriend and his best friend at the time, so four people in one apartment was a nightmare. Still a lesser nightmare than this one but a nightmare nonetheless. Some unwanted and downright traumatizing events chased me out of that place after barely managing to pack my stuff. Therefore, finding myself on the streets again, I had no other option other than the obvious and least liked one: moving back in with my parents.

Making money during my first year of college hasn’t been easy. Working two jobs at once and also streaming video games on the side was what my time was filled with all throughout the first semester but then this damn pandemic started and now ruined everything for me. I had things going for me, I was slowly getting my life together and now it has all fallen apart yet again. The places I worked at closed down due to quarantine and I haven’t been able to steam, not only cause I’d be the victim of my parents’ comments but also cause my terrible home life would be exposed to all my fans and viewers. It’s not like I could cancel out the commotion going on right above my head, it’s a livestream and this house’s walls are cardboard thin meaning all the arguing I hear almost 24/7 will serve as background noise for my streams.

I haven’t reached out to my friends or fans to inform them of this which I feel slightly guilty about but I’m really not looking forward to having to lie to them, just as much as I’m not looking forward to having to tell them the truth so instead I’ve picked silence which is probably either worrying them or driving them insane. Either way, I’ll make my comeback soon.

Well....not very soon by the looks of it...

I have to gather the money, then I have to find a place, then comes the packing, moving out of here, moving into the new place...oh God, there’s so much to it that I don’t even wanna think about. Just that thought that I’ll be inactive for that long makes my stomach turn. Streaming’s where I’ve been channeling all my negative emotions, turning them into something positive and entertaining with the help of my friends.

Speaking of my friends, I should probably put emphasis on how amazing they are. Basically the older siblings I’ve always wished I had. I’m the baby of the group, the eighteen year old freshman in college, powering through life the best they can cause they are constantly getting tripped up by inconvenient occurrences such as this one for example. I tend to have the gang poke fun at me quite frequently - all lighthearted and with good intentions obviously - but they are also the ones to get super defensive if anyone gets the balls to talk shit about me. They’d never allow me to be the victim of any smack talk or online rumors and ‘cancel culture’ or whatever the hell people will come up with to leave others restless and wondering if they did something shady a decade ago. Well, to be fair, I didn’t even know about the concept of social media a decade ago and I’ve never been one to post much but I still have a protection squad in case anyone decides to come after me.

Little do they know the people I need protecting from are the very people that are supposed to protect me - my parents. Luckily, they don’t venture into to basement very often if at all and I have my own exit to the outside world so I don’t have to run into them unless I absolutely have to. The only time I emerge to the surface of the house - aka the ground floor - I do so to leave my share of rent money on the dining table and I usually do it when they aren’t home or when they’re asleep - that happens often with how many bottles they each knock back on the daily.

*sigh*...at least I don’t have to talk to them, right?

Anyhow, remember how I mentioned I always have things to do? Well, right now I’ve tasked myself with rifling through the large boxes containing random stuff I found in one of the basements down here to see if there’s anything I could possibly sell online. For starters, I’d like to hope there aren’t any severed body parts in here because this was one shady-ass basement before I moved in and un-creeped it a bit so I wouldn’t have to become an insomniac due to the paranoia of there being a homeless person down here with me or some paranormal entity. Regardless, old basements tend to be, apart from haunted, also filled with junk no one would find valuable despite it actually being worth something after all. That’s basically what I’m hoping to find at the moment.

As I dig through the contents of the first box, the YouTube playlist I have put on on my phone cuts off causing me to furrow my brows in confusion for a second before my ringtone pierces the silence the lack of music created.

I quickly mute the ringing and take a look at the Caller ID to see a name I never thought would pop up on my screen as an incoming call - Corpse. I, as well as many of our friends, know that he’s not the biggest fan of talking to people on the phone so this is rather surprising. Still, I pick up the call in case it’s not a mistake and an odd chance that it’s somethin urgent cause Lord knows Corpse doesn’t call people willy-nilly. 

Thank God it’s quiet up there at the moment.

“Hello?“ I try my best to cover up the confusion in my voice but I can only assume I didn’t do the best job considering Corpse replies with a slightly awkward chuckle.

“Surprised you, didn’t I?“ He asks, getting my cheeks to redden a bit, “You can’t blame a guy for calling after up and disappearing on him and on the whole internet. Where’ve you been?“

I open my mouth to respond when I hear the sound of glass breaking a shouted curse from upstairs.

Oh for fuck’s sake!

“Um...you know, places?“ I’m aware the answer isn’t only nonsensical but also sounds more like a question, but I can hardly focus on that right now. I’m too buys praying to an entity I don’t fully believe in for the situation above to not escalate.

“Uh, is everything ok over there? Where even are you right now?“ The teasing tone to his voice is all but gone at this point, replaced with deep concern, having obviously heard the commotion that did the exact opposite of what I prayed for - escalated.

“Y-yeah, it’s ok. It’s just another Thursday, you know.“ I attempt a small laugh but it’s blatantly miserable, “I moved back in with my parents when they announced the quarantine so that’s where I’m at now. They’re not the quietest of folks as you can tell so...“

“I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I HOPE YOU DIE“

Oh crap, here we go.

“...So I can’t really stream a lot...or at all.“ I mutter, cringing with all my might, “But it’s only temporary! I’ll get back in the saddle as soon as I find another place to stay.“ I don’t dare mention how long that’s gonna take me, it’ll be too disappointing and depressing for the both of us. “So yeah...um...thanks for showing concern but there’s really nothing to worry about. I’m ok, everything’s ok, things are just...a bit off the rails, but I’ll fix em no problem. Like I always do!“ I attempt to sound as cheerful as possible with little success due to the overwhelming anger I feel towards those people upstairs and the gut-wrenching nostalgia for the world of streaming I can no longer be a part of because of them. Actually, I put the blame first on the pandemic and second on my parents - if it wasn’t for Covid I’d probably still be in my dorm!

“Hey...um, I think I know an affordable place where you can take up residence. Only if you want to, of course.“ He sounds hesitant but I easily overlook that as excitement bursts throughout my entire being at the sound if an escape being offered to me just like that. Had I known I’d find the solution to my problem in the very people I spent time avoiding because I was afraid of their pity, sympathy and judgement.

“Oh please, it could be a rat and roach infested shoe box and I’d go running to it. How much is rent?“ I ask through a gasp of hurried laughter that’s a result of my inability to contain said excitement. Listen, I’ve been sitting here in Hellsburg for three months now and haven’t gotten a proper shuteye during that whole period, whatever Corpse is offering has to be better than this misery.

“Rent can be discussed once you move in...“ He trails off, “And it’s not rat nor roach infested but there’s a slight issue...“

“Which is?“ I’m honestly expecting the worst: in a bad neighborhood; faulty wiring with a high chance of being electrocuted; faulty piping with a high chance of flooding; people have died there; things get randomly moved around in the middle of the night etc. However, I don’t voice any of them to avoid getting laughed at for my wild imagination.

“Well, uh, it’s corpse infested.“ He says a little awkwardly, causing me to let out an inaudible sigh.

So my ‘people have died there’ guess was on point, huh?

“People have died there, huh? Well, I can turn a blind eye to that as long as I don’t find their bodies in the closet or meet their spirits at 3AM.“ I attempt to joke, now second-guessing my eagerness to accept the offer.

Corpse bursts out laughing his ass off at my statement, getting me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion and wonder what I said was so funny - it was a poor attempt at a joke, it in no way deserves that sort of reaction, barely a chuckle in my opinion.

“You’re golden, Y/N, I swear.“ He says once he forces the laughter to subside, “I meant corpse infested as in Corpse Husband infested.“ He breaks out in another fit as my brain slowly starts connecting the dots.

Oooohh he’s asking me to go live with him

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait, hold up for a sec. Are you aware of what you’re offering me? I mean, we’ve never met IRL, you barely know me and....and for all you know I could be the serial killer in this situation!“ I have no idea why I’m pushing my luck, don’t ask. I just don’t want him to make a decision he’ll later regret, I guess. “Like, I could kill you in your sleep!“

“Would you?“ He asks confidently, silently stating he already knows the answer.

I roll my eyes, “Of course not! But...” He cuts me off.

“Great, the offer stands on my end. I’m not a noisy nor nosey roommate so I suggest you start packing. If you choose to live in that hell-hole over living with me, I’m sorry but I’ll be hella offended, just so you know.“

Corpse sounds like he’s about to hang up on me, a decision already made, so I hurry to stop him. “Wait! What about rent?”

“Fuck the rent, pack your bags.“ And just like that, despite my efforts, he hangs up on me.

Well...this is a chance of a lifetime that I know refusing would lead me to not only remain stuck here but also put me in the hugest loser bin. There’s also the fear of being Corpse’s burden which I’ll try my best not to be - I mean, I’m a super independent person and Lord knows that if this offer came any other time or from any other person, I would’ve declined asap, no discussion.

But streaming

But sleeping properly

But having a normal life again

Yeah those are most certainly the reasons I get up and go into the closet in search on my emptied suitcase. Time to fill it up again, I guess. This time with a smile on my face and excitement fueling each and every movement of mine.

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[s-and-n-writes]

stolen smiles and little black lies

crimson and bluebell: part one 

summary: 

Marinette Rossi is tired of everything: from Lila's constant berating and Madame Rossi's preferential care of her 'angel-like' daughter, to how everyone at school (even Alya) seems to believe her evil stepsister over her.

It's like she's Cinderella, except without the fairy godmother and the happy ending. She doesn't even have a prince.

Or so she thinks.

Between the appearance of a new boy who seems to have captured her heart, and a gala run by her fashion idol Gabriel Agreste, Marinette hopes for an escape the constant ignorance, workload, and bullying she endures, and get a blissful life of her own.

With the help of one tiny god and a meow-velous partner, she might finally get a chance, but not everything is that simple.

They say ladybugs are lucky, so will being the elusive Ladybug bring Marinette the luck she oh-so-desperately needs?

quick links: 

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a/n: first chapter’s up! i hope you guys like it! if you wanna be part of the taglist for this, shoot me a message! :) 

It’s dawn when Marinette’s alarm rings.

The sun peaks through the attic window, frail rays treacherously passing through the glass as Marinette hits snooze for the third time.

She’s late, as usual, but that’s no surprise. 

By the time the sky swells with pink, and the silver stars littering the morning sky fade, Marinette’s alarm has gone off a fourth time, the shrill ringing and flashing salmon-red of the numbers cutting through the silence of the morning, as the girl in question finally wakes.

The pink sky changes into the warm undertones of peach and the rising sun peaks further out from the mountains when Marinette is ready. She ties back her midnight-blue locks of hair into twin tails on either side of her head with the two once-red bands she’d once found discarded in front of Lie-La Lila’s room. 

Lost, forgotten, discarded.

The words seem to sum her up perfectly. 

She heads down to the kitchen just as the peach sky cools into blue, the sun rising overhead to begin the new day, and she smiles as she gazes for a minute down the hallway window to the cobblestone streets below. 

The grin on her face quickly shifts into a frown once she heads into the kitchen.

Fortunately, preparation for breakfast finishes up quicker than usual, and the lovely smell of fresh-baked croissants waft through the house. Marinette takes this time to glance at her phone, a well treasured gift after months of working at the bakery. The phone is in no way one of the best, and certainly can’t compare to Chloe’s, but Marinette is happy with it, so the cracked screen and the faded case are overlooked.

It must be the croissants that make Madame Rossi to come downstairs, dark bags fresh under her eyes. Marinette feels sorry for her, knowing her long days and longer nights at the embassy, so she merely smiles as Madame Rossi sits into one of the dining room chairs, slumping gracefully on the cool-white tabletop. 

The embassy job pays well, though, and the house they are in proves that.

“Morning Madame,” Marinette says, pushing towards Madame Rossi a croissant laid delicately onto the new white plates. 

Lila’s mother is certainly her favorite Rossi, since Lila has some...tendencies that Marinette doesn’t like. Especially when they’re being used towards her, as they often are.

But even if Madame Rossi was the most tolerable of the Rossi family, Marinette knows that she has flaws. 

Madame tilts her head as she glances at the croissant, and then at Marinette, accepting the plate with a tired smile. 

“Good morning Marinette,” she says, nibbling gently on the croissant. “Have you seen Lila yet?”

Marinette bites her lip in frustration at the woman’s blatant love of her daughter. If Madame Rossi had truly wanted to see it, she would’ve found the holes in Lila’s fake personality years ago. 

 “N-no Madame,” she stutters. The topic of Lila always seems to make Marinette nervous, since the girl in question could be listening from anywhere. 

And since Marinette has had many an experience with calling Lila out, usually ending with purple-ish bruises covering inches of her skin, she does not want to make the same mistake again.

But it’s then that Lila appears in the living room, fake smile on par with the rest of her demeanor and carrying a small brown bag. Marinette notices how Madame Rossi immediately brightens: her skin glows, her eyes happily crinkle at the edges, and a smile replaces her forlorn frown.

It’s almost enough to make Marinette jealous. Lila has someone to lean on, someone who loves her, when she has no one. 

Marinette’s not blind. She’s seen how Madame Rossi looks when Lila comes into the room, versus her. She knows she’s adopted (as if the hair didn’t give it all away). It’s an unspoken truth in the family, and even if Marinette doesn’t know who her birth parents are, she supposes she’s ok with her family right now. 

Or at least, she hopes she is. 

Because she has no one else. 

Madame Rossi feeds her and clothes her, yes, but deep down Marinette knows she’s a burden; one that has to prove her worth to stay. It doesn’t matter that she works harder, or has a better personality, because Lila will always be painted as an angel in Madame Rossi’s eyes, and Marinette as the weight that the Rossi family shoulders.

Lila, however, is the variable that creates chaos for Marinette, as she spins and weaves lies like an intricate blanket to her advantage. Marinette is a pawn on her chess board, barely surviving as Lila throws obstacle after obstacle at her. After all, Marinette can still count the times Lila has been nice to her on one hand, even if the hand has no fingers.

“Good morning, Mother!” Lila greets, her perfect smile stretching across her face.

But Marinette had been there long enough. She always saw the flaws: the slight twitch in Lila’s eye, the scowl before the smirk, the smirk before the smile.

“Good morning Lila, dear, how are you? Did you get a good night’s rest?” Madame Rossi questions, the concern and genuine love clearly visible in her eyes. 

Marinette refrains from biting her already-bruised lip yet again, and walks towards the kitchen for a well-needed breath of fresh air. 

“I slept well, Mother,” Lila replies from the dining room, voice visibly louder to let Marinette hear, “Well, as well as I could, since Marinette’s snores drifted from the attic,”

“Oh dear,” Madame Rossi responds, turning around briefly to glance at Marinette with a look of despondency.

“I just get so tired when I don’t get my beauty rest. And God knows I need it, what with the insomnia the doctor diagnosed. I already look horrible!” Lila groans, adding in a perfectly timed yawn at the center of her sentence.

Ah yes. Marinette can perfectly remember the fake doctor’s visit, the fake doctor herself, and the fake insomnia Lila created.

“Lila, don’t say that about yourself. You are the most beautiful girl, and the best daughter. Insomnia is merely a setback that you can get over, just like anything else” Madame Rossi fondly says, “and as for your tiredness, perhaps you can take a nap after school today. Marinette can do your chores,”

Once again, Madame Rossi has perfectly catered to Lila’s needs, unknowingly belittling Marinette. After all, Lila is the real master around the Rossi household, dragging all others around like puppets on strings.

“Marinette, are you okay with that?” Lila questions, her eyes full of concern. If Marinette was new around the house, she might’ve allowed herself to believe her. But Marinette is not new; she’s been here for years, and she knows Lila too well. Her slightly narrowed hershey brown eyes and almost-sympathetic furrowed brows scream ‘do it or else!’, an obvious indicator that she has to agree.

Otherwise, things won’t end well...

“Yes, that is perfectly fine Lila, um, please go upstairs and rest,” Marinette says, adding on an ‘after breakfast of course’ after Lila subtly glares at her (likely thinking it’s a ploy to shoo her away). 

Lila smiles, and takes a seat at the large dinner table, crossing her legs and placing her hands over her lap. 

“Wonderful! Thank you Mother!” she smiles. “Now Marinette, where is my croissant?”

“Ah, uh, right here,” Marinette says, avoiding eye contact as she passes the croissant to Lila. Lila smirks in reply, and glances at her mother.

“So…” Lila pauses, considering how to proceed with small-talk, “how’s the er-the embassy?” 

“Doing well!” Madame Rossi smiles. “I actually have an event next week that I’d love for you girls to come to!” 

“Mom, I’m not quite sure I’m free…” Lila frowns. “But go ahead, tell me what it is,”

Marinette steps into the kitchen, listening intently as she brews a pot of coffee. The hot liquid nearly burns the pads of her fingers as she pours it into three cups, but it’s nothing she hasn’t felt before.

“Ah, well, there’s a gala that Gabriel Agreste is hosting,” Madame Rossi explains, taking a bite of her croissant.

“Gabriel Agreste, right?” Lila smirks, eyes training on Marinette, “I assume this is for, perhaps, new fashion designers? Maybe he wants to, um, I don’t know, scope out an intern?” 

The bluenette on the other side of the room twitches as she rubs her hands together, barely containing her excitement.

“Yes!” Madame Rossi grins, “You’re so smart Lila. Maybe we should move you up a grade-”

“Er-um, when would this be, um Madame?” Marinette cuts in. 

Madame Rossi raises an eyebrow. “Hold on Marinette. I’m not quite done explaining yet. No need to get so impatient,” 

“Yea,” Lila shrills evilly, glancing between her mother and her so-called sister as she quickly formulates a plan, “Hold on, Marinette. She’s just getting started,” 

There’s a double meaning behind Lila’s words, like the sharp edge of a sword being pressed against Marinette’s neck, quickly drawing out blood the color of cherry-red roses. It’s a warning, that Lila is the one just getting started, not Madame Rossi. 

Marinette chooses to shrink back, and stay silent in the moment, fear of Lila winning over her genuine excitement. 

Like always.

She’s used to it though. It’s ok.

Madame Rossi ignores Marinette’s suddenly startled breathing, and continues with her explanation. 

“The embassy has to get involved because this could make headlines, since Monsieur Agreste invited many of the world’s most famous fashion designers. If France gains tourists because of this, it could boost our economy,” Madame Rossi says as Marinette brings a pot of coffee to her. 

“That’s so exciting Mom!” Lila (fake) smiles. 

“I’m glad you think so!” Madame Rossi replies, “We have to host a two day program welcoming all of these people to Paris. Monsieur Agreste himself will be there! There’s, um, there’s a welcoming ceremony, then a formal dinner, and finally, oh uh, finally… actually I’ll get back to you on the last thing,”

“No prob!” Lila smiles. Marinette rolls her eyes in retaliation before Lila can see. 

“Anyways, I wanted to invite you girls! So many people are bringing their children. The head of the embassy’s bringing her daughter, my boss and her daughter and her son are coming, not to mention Monsieur Agreste’s son, and I thought-” 

“Hold on,” Lila interrupts. “Adrien Agreste will be there? THE ADRIEN AGRESTE?!”

“Yes, he will be,” Madame Rossi laughs, “Eager, are you?” 

“Er-no, he, well, he’s just, uh, really popular you know? It could really boost my career, in um, fashion designing,” Lila covers, smoothly altering her voice to sound desperate and longing.

“You want to be a fashion designer?” Madame Rossi smiles, genuine tears in her eyes. She wipes them away with the back of her hand and sighs, “You’ve never told me, darling!” 

“Never came up!” Lila laughs uneasily, paling as she clenches her fists to veil the irritation hidden inside her. 

Marinette’s lip has turned pale, a gash running through the side that she continues to bite. It’s a reserve for all her anger, mainly at Lila. She’d have to steal some of Alya’s preppy-red lipstick when she gets to school, to cover up the bruise.

“Lila, um, you don’t mind me asking, but who is Adrien Agreste?” Marinette cuts in, failing to follow the conversation. 

Lila doesn’t have to reply, since her mocking grin answers for her, and so does Madame Rossi. 

“Didn’t you want to be a designer, like Lila?” she asks, frowning disapprovingly. 

“I-uh, yes,” Marinette stumbles, picking at the edge of her shirt. It’s a new one that she just made over the weekend, one she can’t wait to show to Alya, but by how often she picks at the seams, the dress will dissolve into thin lines of string before school even starts. She walks over to the dining table and sits down across from Madame Rossi.

“Then you should know,” Madame Rossi says, pointing her nose upwards with a raised eyebrow. It’s often like this: the morning starts out with a kinder Madame Rossi, and as the day goes on, she continues to pile disapproving stares and hidden anger on her lesser daughter: Marinette. 

“Anyway, the whole program is next weekend, and I’d love for you both to come!” Madame Rossi says, clasping her anticipatingly. 

“Of course Mom. I’ll definitely support you. It’s a shame that Marinette can’t come though,” Lila pouts. 

Marinette’s fists both clench, her eyes widening at the prospect to miss a meeting with the famous fashion designer himself, “I-uh-” 

“Marinette, is this true?” Madame Rossi asks, raising a slight eyebrow, “Why?” 

“Some sort of field trip for art club, I think,” Lila cuts in, smiling sweetly at Marinette, “Right Marinette?” 

Lila throws a pointed look at the girl, eyes calculatingly tracing across her face. It was another warning, far more powerful than the last, a signal that if Marinette doesn’t follow, there will be consequences. 

But Marinette is tired; tired of the constant warnings, tired of the beratings, tired of the girl she doesn’t want to call her sister, tired of the woman who keeps favorites, tired of… well, everything. 

“Sorry, n-no,” Marinette stutters quietly.

“What?” Lila smiles, turning to raise an eyebrow at Marinette. Lila’s aura of masked evil radiates against her, pushing, pulling, threatening, hurti-

“I’m saying no,” Marinette , hidden confidence rising to the surface like shiny, opaque bubbles. “I don’t have an art club field trip. I’m free,”

If Lila snarls, Madame Rossi doesn’t notice, instead choosing to take a sip of her coffee and dusting her hands gently on her royal-blue blouse. 

“Great!” she smiles, “I’ll tell them that both of you are coming,” 

Unusual silence falls onto the dining room, broken only by Madame Rossi’s quiet humming. It’s atypical in only the fact that Lila never spares a moment by not talking to her mother; she often decides to leave or escape in a different way. 

The tension is thick, and every moment Madame Rossi looks away is another one that Lila uses to visually throw daggers at Marinette.

But Madame Rossi leaves before she recognizes the obvious shift of the room, pushing dishes in the sink and heading out the door with only a feeble au revoir! 

“Au revoir, Mother!” Lila calls back, smoke nearly coming out of her ears as she desperately tried to keep the anger out of her voice. 

Marinette’s confidence dissipates quickly as she regains her shyness and vulnerability. It’s a shame because it’s at that moment that Lila attacks.

“Listen, you filthy scum of a sister,” Lila sneers, clenching her fists. Marinette struggles to not shiver, to not show the telltale signs of fear.

It seems, however, that Lila already knows. 

“If it weren’t for my amazing ability to somehow tolerate you, not to mention my mother’s strange liking of you, you’d be gone, do you understand?” Lila hurls at Marinette. Marinette, despite her will to not break, flinches.

Lila smiles cruelly. “That’s better, Mari-brat,” 

She studies Marinette’s features. “Alright, fine. You can come to the whole embassy fiasco,”

With carefully timed smirk overtaking her features, Lila leans in close, inches away from Marinette. “But stay away from Adrien. He’s mine,” 

Lila backs away from the table, slamming her chair into it and cracking the edges of glass. Lila’s glass mug full of coffee lands on the floor, quickly  shattering into a million different pieces as the contents inside stain the carpet a less-than-beautiful shade of walnut brown. 

Marinette gasps, quickly clamping a hand over her mouth afterwards, and observing the damage.

“But don’t think I’ve gone soft,” Lila grins, “I guess you’ll be the one that tells Mother about how you tragically destroyed her glass table, and her carpet!”

Marinette knows that Madame Rossi will be furious. Even if the table isn’t as tragically destroyed as Lila had said, the coffee spill is sure to anger her. 

If she’s really mad, she might ground Marinette into staying at home the days that they went to the embassy, and while Lila frolicked with her idols, Marinette would be at home. 

But that’s not the highlight of it all. Marinette had almost thought that Lila was finally changing for the better. 

Almost. 

“Well, I’m off to school!” Lila says, continuing to smirk. “Have fun cleaning up the mess you made!” 

She leaves with a final look at Marinette, slamming the door behind her.

Based on the gleam in Lila’s eye, Marinette’s due for some black and blue sometime soon. 

quick links: | next chapter >

a/n: next chapter should come soon! if you liked it, perhaps like this post, or reblog, or comment :) enjoy your day! 

taglist: 

i’ll be tagging the people that i had tagged before, along with a couple others who liked the masterlist for this series. if you don’t want to get tagged, i’m very sorry! just shoot me a private message, and i’ll take you off the tags. if you do want to get tagged, just tell me with a private message or an ask and i’ll add you to the taglist. thank you! 

@reddragonofemeraldflame  @nomiegnome  @18markers @katbab @emmathedestroyer @bluesesameseed @cyborgcandy @karukofox21 @magnificentcrapposts​ @miraculouslylee​

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Under The Blood

a Prayer by Charles Spurgeon

JEHOVAH our God, we thank Thee for leaving on record the story of Thine ancient people. It is full of instruction to ourselves. Help us to take its warning to avoid the faults into which they fell! Thou art a covenant God and Thou keepest Thy promises and Thy Word never faileth. We have proved this so hitherto—

“Thus far we find that promise good, Which Jesus ratified with blood.”

But as for ourselves, we are like Israel of old, a fickle people and we confess it with great shame, there are days when we take the timbrel and we sing with Miriam, “Unto the Lord who triumphed gloriously,” and yet we grieve to say it, not many hours after, we are thirsty and we cry for water and we murmur in our tents. The brackish Marah turns our heart and we are grieved with our God. Sometimes we bow before Thee with reverence and awe when we behold Thy Sinai altogether on a smoke, but there have been times when we have set up the golden calf and we have said of some earthly things, “These be Thy gods, O Israel.” We believe with intensity of faith and then doubt with a horribleness of doubt.

Lord, Thou hast been very patient with us. Many have been our provocations, many have been Thy chastisements, but—

“Thy strokes are fewer than our crimes, And lighter than our guilt.”

“Thou hast not dealt with us after our sins, nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.” Blessed be Thy name!

And now fulfil that part of the covenant wherein Thou hast said, “A new heart also will I give thee and a right spirit will I put within thee. I will put My fear in their hearts and they shall not depart from Me.” Hold us fast and then we shall hold fast to Thee. Turn us and we shall be turned. Keep us and we shall keep Thy statutes.

We cry to Thee that we may no more provoke Thee. We beg Thee rather to send the serpents among us than to let sin come among us. Oh! that we might have our eye always on the brazen serpent that healeth all the bites of evil, but may we not look to sin nor love it. Let not the devices of Balaam and of Balak prevail against us, to lead Thy people away from their purity. Let us not be defiled with false doctrine or with unholy living, but may we walk as the separated people of God and keep ourselves unspotted from the world. Lord, we would not grieve Thy Spirit. Oh! may we never vex Thee so as to lead Thee in Thy wrath to say, “They shall not enter into my rest.” Bear with us still for His dear sake whose blood is upon us. Bear with us still and send not the destroying angel as Thou didst to Egypt, but again fulfil that promise of Thine, “When I see the blood I will pass over you.”

Just now may we be consciously passed over by the Spirit of condemnation. May we know in our hearts that, “There is therefore now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus.” May we feel the peace giving power of the divine absolution. May we come into Thy holy presence with our feet washed in the brazen laver, hearing our great High Priest say to us, “Ye are clean every whit.” Thus made clean, may we draw near to God through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Further, our heavenly Father, we come before Thee now washed in the blood, wearing the snow white robe of Christ’s righteousness, and we ask Thee to remember Thy people. Some are sore burdened—lighten the burden or strengthen the shoulder. Some are bowed down with fear, peradventure they mistrust—forgive the mistrust and give a great increase of faith that they may trust Thee where they cannot trace Thee. The Lord remember any who bear the burden of others. Some cry to Thee day and night about the sins of the times, about the wanderings of Thy Church. Lord, hear our prayers! We would bear this yoke for Thee, but help us to bear it without fearing so as to distrust Thee. May we know that Thou wilt take care of Thine own case and preserve Thine own truth and may we therefore be restful about it all.

Some are crying to Thee for the conversion of relatives and friends. This burden they have taken up to follow after Jesus in the cross bearing. Grant them to see the desire of their heart fulfilled. God, save our children and children’s children, and if we have unconverted relatives of any kind, the Lord have mercy upon them for Christ’s sake. Give us joy in them—as much joy in them as Christians, as we have had sorrow about them as unbelievers.

Further, be pleased to visit Thy Church with the Holy Spirit. Renew the day of Pentecost in our midst, and in the midst of all gatherings of Thy people may there come the downfall of the holy fire, the uprising of the heavenly wind. May matters that are now slow and dead become quick and full of life and may the Lord Jesus Christ be exalted in the midst of His Church which is His fulness, “the fulness of Him that filleth all in all.” May multitudes be converted. May they come flocking to Christ with holy eagerness to find in Him a refuge as the doves fly to their dovecotes.

Oh! for salvation work throughout these islands and across the sea and in every part of the world, specially in heathen lands. Bring many to Christ’s feet, we pray Thee, everywhere where men are ready to lay down their lives that they may impart the heavenly life of Christ. Work, Lord, work mightily! Thy Church cries to Thee. Oh, leave us not! We can do nothing without Thee! Our strength is wholly Thine! Come to us with great power and let Thy Word have free course and be glorified.

Remember every one that calls Thee Father. May a Father’s love look on all the children. May the special need of each one be supplied, the special sorrow of each one be assuaged. May we be growing Christians, may we be working Christians, may we be perfected Christians, may we come to the fulness of the stature of men in Christ Jesus. Lord Jesus, Thou art a great pillar. In Thee doth all fulness dwell. Thou didst begin Thy life with filling the water pots to the full. Thou didst fill Simon Peter’s boat until it began to sink. Thou didst fill the house where Thy people were met together with the presence of the Holy Ghost. Thou dost fill heaven. Thou wilt surely fill all things. Fill us, oh! fill us today with all the fulness of God and make Thy people thus joyful and strong, and gracious and heavenly!

But we cannot leave off our prayer when we have prayed for Thy people, though we have asked large things. We want Thee to look among the thousands and millions round about us who know Thee not. Lord, look on the masses who go nowhere to worship. Have pity upon them. Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. Give a desire to hear Thy Word. Send upon the people some desire after their God. O Lord, take sinners in hand thyself. Oh! Come and reach obstinate, obdurate minds. Let the careless and the frivolous begin to think upon eternal things. May there be an uneasiness of heart, a sticking of the arrows of God in their loins, and may they seek to the great physician and find healing this very day. Ah! Lord, thou sayest, “Today, if ye will hear His voice,” and we take up the echo. Save men today, even today. Bring them Thy Spirit in power that they may be willing to rest in Christ. Lord, hear, forgive, accept, and bless, for Jesu’s sake. Amen.

[exhaustedfander]

You Don’t Want This [Intrulogical]

This idea wouldn’t leave me alone until I put it to paper so here we are. This includes mpreg, just as a warning if that’s not your thing. Requests are open so please, send me some! I’d probably be willing to do any ship besides r*mr*m. As always, likes and reblogs are really appreciated, enjoy and have a good day/night! 

word count: 3,106

a03 link

Logan hadn’t seen his boyfriend in a week now and that was decidedly very odd. Prior to now, they’d spent nearly every day together. At the very least, Remus would call him or send him a couple of dirty texts. But no contact at all? It just didn’t make any sense.

It wasn’t as though Logan hadn’t reached out. In fact, right before Remus had all but completely cut off contact he’d fallen ill. Remus claimed that it was nothing more than a stomach bug, probably some bad fish he ate. Normally, Logan wouldn’t doubt him; Remus was never one to forgo the truth, no matter how grotesque or messy it might be. But this…this didn’t feel quite right.

They’d been together for almost a year-in-a-half now, for god’s sake, they’d been talking about moving in together and now Remus wasn’t talking to him. He was dodging his call for the most part and the few times that Logan was granted the privilege of a conversation, Remus had come up with some very half-baked excuses as to why they couldn’t see each other.

Logan had asked if he’d done something to upset him. He put everything he had into his relationship, but he had never been the best at understand other’s emotions, as well as his own, so the idea that he had done something to unintentionally hurt Remus’s feelings wasn’t too out-there. Remus had sworn that it was nothing and that Logan didn’t need to worry, which only deepened Logan’s concerns. Still, Remus was upset and not knowing what he could do to fix it, he decided giving him some space might be the best course of actions. How it had gotten to an entire week of this almost radio-silence, Logan wasn’t sure, and he was damn near about to call Remus and demand some kind of an explanation when his phone began to chime.

Logan noted that it was Remus’s twin brother Roman calling. He and Roman had actually known each other for far longer than he’d been with Remus, having been friends for a long time now.

“Hello, Roman,” Logan said after pressing ‘talk’, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“When was the last time you talked to Remus?” The question came out of absolutely nowhere, effectively throwing him for a loop.

“Uh – just a few days ago. But I suppose we haven’t seen each other in a week now.”

“You suppose?” There’s an anger in Roman’s tone, fiery and frantic.

“What exactly is going on here? Clearly you know something I don’t.” Roman scoffed.

“Yeah, clearly.” Logan huffed out a sigh, his concern only escalating from where it had been. “Logan, you need to talk to my brother. Now.” In all honesty, Logan was surprised that Remus and Roman were even on speaking terms. They’d never gotten along very well in all the time that he’d known them and now apparently Roman posed vital information about his boyfriend that he lacked.

“I don’t understand. Why won’t you explain to me what the situation is? What did Remus tell you? Is he alright?” Roman sighed.

“I can’t be the one to tell you, Lo. And I know he’s gonna be too scared to tell you if you call him. Please, go see him. He’s in a really fucked up mental state and he needs you, even if he’s too afraid to admit it.”

Logan felt his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. Remus was in a, as Roman explained it, a “fucked up” mental state and he was afraid to explain the reason to him. The very thought of such things and all the many possibilities of what it could mean swirled in his head.

“Roman – please, just explain it minimally. You’re, you’re elevating my concerns. Is Remus unsafe? Is he injured or ill?” “Please, go talk to him, Lo. We can talk about everything once you guys have had a conversation, but I need that to happen first.”

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Logan muttered through gritted teeth, “Goodbye, Roman.” Before his friend could even respond he’d ended the call. Logan buried his face in his hands, fear settling deep into his bones. He’d felt like something was off, but he’d dismissed it. Why had he been so foolish? Why hadn’t he applied any logic? Of course something was wrong! Something had felt amiss for the entire week and yet Logan hadn’t wanted to upset Remus. Now, it seemed, he needed to go see him. He needed to know what the hell was going on.

Logan drove faster than was considered legal on his way to Remus’s apartment, something under almost any circumstance he wouldn’t do. But his anxieties were gaining in momentum and they wouldn’t let up until he saw his boyfriend.

Hopping out of the car, he pulled the key from his back pocket in case Remus refused to answer his knocking and approached the door. Logan gave a knock, feeling his hands beginning to shake.

“Remus, it’s Logan. Please, open the door.” Logan was met with silence.

“Dear, I saw your car in its spot; I know you’re there. Let me in, please.” Nothing.

“Roman just called me. He sounded…incredibly concerned for your well-being and I’m worried too. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m here…” Logan was just about to use the key when the door swung open, revealing a disheveled Remus.

“Rem –.”

“Remind me to kick my brother’s ass for calling you,” he snarled, though he stood aside so that Logan could enter, “It was none of his goddamn business.” Logan came inside hastily, noting that it was in even more of a disarray than usual. The coffee table and counter were littered with dishes and there were crumbled pieces of paper all over the place. Remus would often get like this when inspiration struck him like a bolt of lightning and he needed to write every idea that came to mind. Seeing the state his boyfriend was in, however, Logan highly doubted that was the reason.

“Remus, I know you’ve been avoiding me. I wanted to give you space, assuming I’d done something to upset you, perhaps. But getting that call from Roman…” Logan trailed off, seeing the look of utter exhaustion on Remus’s face. Remus’s hair was ruffled, sticking up this way and that, and his makeup was smudged, mascara and eye shadow having left a purple and black trail down his cheeks. Logan reached out to touch Remus’s face, only to have him jerk back and slam the door shut, “you’ve been crying…”

“Yeah, no shit,” Remus huffed bitterly, walking over the sofa and flopping down. Logan noted that his boyfriend looked even paler than usual, something that deeply worried him. He sat down beside Remus, giving him enough distance to hopefully feel at least a little comfortable. Remus crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes cast downward.

Silence hung between them for a tense moment as Logan watched Remus try not to burst into a fit of tears. It was agonizing.

“Remus, whatever is going on, you can talk to me. I love you. You know that, don’t you?” Remus sighed, running a hand through his frazzled hair.

“That’s the thing though, isn’t it? Love’s conditional.” Logan knitted his eyebrows together.

“What? I don’t understand, why would you say something like that? Remus, what happened?” Remus shook his head, taking a trembling breath before meeting Logan’s expectant gaze.

“Oh, it’s nothing really.” “Clearly, that isn’t the case. Something’s the matter; I’ve never seen you look so upset.”

“Well, I’m pregnant, so that’s something, I guess.” Logan felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs. He looked at Remus, searching for some kind of falsehood, a practical joke of some kind. All he found was broken, terrified sincerity.

“W–what?”

“Pretty fucking wild, huh? We were using protection and all that shit – and yet here we are!” Logan felt his heart beating out of his chest, his mind going a mile-a-minute. He went silent, needing a moment to process before continuing.

“Remus why…why would you hide this from me? When did you find out?” “Week ago,” Remus said casually, or at least as casually as one can muster when they’re very near to tears, “I talked to Roman about it, by the way. So you don’t even need to worry. He said he’d help me out, honestly, it’s really sweet of him. I didn’t expect it of him, but what do ya know? People surprise you sometimes.” Logan blinked, feeling himself beginning to tremble as he reached out for Remus’s hand. His boyfriend pulled away.

“I don’t need to worry? Are-are you under the impression that I’m not going to help you? This all comes as quite a surprise but – Remus? Remus, dear, look at me? Won’t you look at me?” Remus shook his head, tears burning in his eyes once more.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t fucking do that, Logan. You don’t want any part of this, trust me, I can handle myself.” Logan finally acquired a grip on Remus’s hand, holding it tight. His boyfriend’s wide, tear-filled eyes met his.

“Remus, you should have told me the moment you found out. The fact that you’ve had to deal with this almost all on your own for a week now…darling, I would have never wished that upon you. You don’t have to ‘handle yourself.’” Remus sniffled as Logan rubbed the pad of his thumb along his knuckles.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about…don’t say all that, I-I know you don’t mean it. You’re not going to want anything to do with me after this.” “Who says I won’t?” Remus shuddered.

“I do! I – I don’t want to trap you in something you don’t want any part of! You’ve got a life to lead, so go fucking do it! Go and find somebody else, I’ll be fine. Always am.” Logan shook his hand firmly, feeling the emotions burning through him.

“No. Remus, don’t say that. I cannot fathom what you’re going through mentally at this time, but I can assure you, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been terribly worried and when Roman called…well, I feared for the worst. Darling, I love you. I could never leave you, especially in the vulnerable state that you’re in.” Remus sniffed, jerking away from Logan’s grasp and burying his face in his hands.

“Stop saying that! S-stop it, I know it’s not gonna be true anymore. Please, just stop it…” A sob bubbled in Remus’s throat as he felt a hand settle onto his shoulder.

“Falsehood," Logan replied, far softer than he usually said the word, "I do love you, and this by no means changes that. Whatever course of action you want to take, I will continue to love you. You are my partner, you are the person who has stolen my heart, and I support you in anything.” Remus went silent, save for the sniffles, poking his head out from his hands and daring to make eye-contact.

“Even…even if I wanted to keep it?” Logan nodded, rubbing steady circles into Remus’s back.

“If that’s what you want then, yes. Even then. Is that what you want, Remus?” Remus whimpered.

“I…yeah. Yeah, I think so. Do you think I’m crazy? Me, thinking I could do anything like that? Even though it was a complete accident?”

"Of course I don’t think you’re crazy. As I said, whatever you want to do, I will put my support in you. I’m here, Remus, and I’m not going anywhere.” Remus sniffled, a hopeful smile wavering on his face.

“Do you promise? You’re not – you’re not gonna change your mind?” Logan pressed a kiss to Remus’s temple, reassuring and tender.

“I promise.” Logan suddenly found himself with a lap-full of Remus who was hugging him as tight as humanly possible and sobbing into his shoulder.

“Okay good b-because I was totally lying. I don’t have anything under control. Logan, I’m fucking terrified.” Logan couldn’t say he was much less scared. He’d never imagined himself being a father, never considered the possibility of having something like that with Remus. And terrifying though it was, the idea of Remus no longer being in his life was far scarier.

“It’s alright. Fear is a perfectly natural reaction. It’s going to be alright.” Logan felt Remus beginning to relax in his embrace, burying his face in the crock of his neck.

“I’m sorry…I just thought…” Remus trailed off, noting how he was getting tears and smudges of makeup on Logan’s shirt, though he lacked the energy to care, “I love you. I love you so goddamn much and I can’t believe you wanna stick around. I mean, you know I’m being serious, right? I wanna keep them…I know it’s nuts, and I’m just about the last person who should be having a baby but…”

“I believe you, Remus. I don’t think it’s nuts. We’re two perfectly rational, functional adults.” Remus snorted.

“Yeah, maybe you are.” “You don’t give yourself enough credit, darling. You’re a fantastic author. You’re a wonderful person.”

“You’re one of the only people who’d say that, babe. Me and “wonderful person” aren’t really words that go together.” Logan pressed a kiss to the crown of Remus’s head.

“You’re wonderful in your own ways, my dear. And I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful father.” Remus moved to look at Logan, an elated look in his eyes.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” Remus said before kissing Logan enthusiastically. It was a scary statement to contemplate, but one that excited Logan nonetheless.

“That we are,” Logan said fondly as they pulled away, “That we are.”

=+=

Logan rubbed Remus’s back as he heaved his guts out for the millionth time that night.

“It’s called fucking morning sickness,” Remus moaned into the toilet bowl, “Does it look like morning to you? It’s 10 o’clock, for god’s sake.”

“I’m sorry, Remus,” Logan said apologetically.

“That was my big tip off,” Remus said weakly, “The moment I got you to leave I was puking all the time. I figured either I was dying, or I was pregnant, and well, luckily it was the later. Though at this rate I might die from loss of vomit or something.” Logan decided against commenting on the fact that “loss of vomit” was not a cause of death, opting instead for getting a washcloth to wipe Remus’s mouth as well as a glass of water.

“Thanks,” Remus mumbled, dabbing the puke of his lips before downing the glass in two swallows. “I feel like shit.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Logan coaxed gently, helping Remus off the floor and into his bedroom. Logan’s very much set on having Remus move into his apartment as soon as possible, but for tonight this is where they’ll both stay.

“I really am sorry for how I acted,” Remus said uncharacteristically softly as Logan shut off the lights and slid into bed with him, “I was just so scared…ha, was. I’m still so scared, but you’re here. I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You don’t need to apologize, dear. You’re under an incredible amount of physical and emotional stress, your reaction, though unfounded, was understandable. I’m not upset with you, if that’s what you think.” Remus sighed, wrapping his arms around Logan and pressing his face into his boyfriend’s chest.

“That’s good…LoLo? Do you really think we can do this?” There was a fragility to Remus's voice unlike Logan's ever heard. “And – and you’re not going to get scared away? When things progress, I mean. We’re only in month two or so, I think?” Logan searched for Remus’s hand in the dark, finding it and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You could never scare me away. I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow, by the way. To check in on the baby.” Remus smiled, further ensnaring Logan in his octopus-like-grip.

“You’re the fucking best – shit, I probably got to stop cursing so much huh? Well…that’s a problem for a little bit later. Little bean’s too tiny to hear any swear words right now, anyhow.” Logan quirked an eyebrow.

“Little bean?” “Uh...yeah. That’s what I’ve been calling them, for the time being. I dunno I thought it was –.”

“It’s very cute. I’m not making fun of you.”

“Kinda sounded like you were about to,” Remus huffed.

“Well, I wasn’t. Go to sleep, Remus. You sound exhausted.”

“I’m still mad at Roman for telling you.” Logan sighed, carding a hand through Remus’s ruffled curls.

“I’m glad he told me, otherwise I wouldn’t have come here sooner. I wouldn’t have found out that we’re going to have a child.” Remus smiled.

“We are. Knowing you, we’re gonna have the smartest fucking kid. The two of you are probably going to make me feel like such an idiot.” “Don’t talk like that. You’re nothing of the sort. Our little bean,” Logan noted the way Remus squeezed him just a bit tighter when he said it, “Will be a wonderful combination of the both of us, I’m sure.”

“You have to promise me that you’ll help me find maternity clothes for when I look like a beached whale. Only fun colors though, none of those beiges or greys.” Logan smiled fondly.

“I promise, dear.”

“And when we tell our friends, you’ll have to do it. hearing it from me they’re just going to think I’m trying to pull a practical joke.” Logan chuckled.

“Of course.”

“I love you, Logan,” Remus said, voice layered with exhaustion.

“And I love you, Remus,” Logan said, listening to Remus’s breath even out as he drifted off to sleep.

Logan certainly hadn’t expected any of what played out to occur, but now that this was the situation he was in, he doubted he’d do much to change it. He loved Remus more than anything and though the thought of the two of them being a family hadn’t occurred to him much prior, it brought him joy to contemplate now. It was a scary concept, them being parents, but he was convinced they could do it. So many people even more ill-equipped had children every day, why should they be any different?

When Logan had called Roman after his and Remus’s conversation, he’d received a congratulation from his friend. Roman had known that Logan was going to stick by his brother, despite what Remus had been convinced of at the time.

Logan closed his eyes, holding Remus close and dreaming of the future they could make together.

=+=

[pricetagofficial]

The Archer -T.D.

So decided to post the first bit of my Tim Drake fic on here to see what you all think, this is not a reader insert sorry but I hold Rory Queen very close to my heart. I hope you all will love her as much as I do.

Part Two

Warnings: Language, blood, sexual content and probably more. These warnings are for the entire fic, not just this part.

Word count: 1.9k

Tags: @catxsnow​ (Just let me know if you want to be put in the tags)

Preface

All Aurora could see was gray. Grey ash, grey concrete amongst the dead bodies covered in the grey. Glancing down, she caught sight of two familiar figures. Getting to her feet, Rory ran as fast as her 11-year-old legs could carry her. Falling to her knees, her tiny hands tried to lift the slabs of concrete off the people buried underneath.

"Help!" she screamed. "Somebody help me!"

Rory's arms were seconds away from giving out when two large, muscular arms arrived and began to lift the concrete with her. What she saw underneath only confirmed her worst fears. Letting out a scream of anguish, Rory's eyes met with the lifeless gaze of her parents.

Desperate for any form of comfort, Rory collapsed into the green-clad hero who helped uncover her parents. She felt his strong arms wrap around her in a comforting embrace.

"Hey Green, we need yo-"  The voice of a woman was cut off, the sight broke her heart. The Green Arrow was sat on his knees, holding a little girl who was grieving over the sight of her dead parents.

Green Arrow looked up at his wife and partner. "Canary, help me get her back to base." he said, his own voice strained from holding back sobs. Black Canary gave him a nod, walking over and taking the young girl into her arms.

Green Arrow rose to his feet. "I'll help Red finish up here. Get her out." he ordered.

Black Canary gave him yet another nod and began to walk to her bike. "Can you tell me your name sweetheart?" she asked the sobbing child.

"A-Aurora. But I like Rory more." she responded, hiccuping at the end.

"Aurora? That's a beautiful name." Rory looked up at the beautiful woman carrying her.

"Really?" she asked. "My best friend used to say the same thing."

"Well, your best friend is very smart." The two of them arrived to Black Canary's bike and she gently set the girl down. "I'm going to need you to hold on, can you do that for me?"

Aurora gave her a nod and let the woman place a slightly larger helmut on her head, fastening it tight. Once Rory was ready, Canary set her on the bike and climbed on behind her, keeping the girl close to her chest. Revving up her bike, the two of them took off for the Arrow Cave.

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Chapter One

9 Years Later

"Was that supposed to hurt?" The Grey Arrow pulled the mugger's knife out of her shoulder and flipped it around in her hand with a wide grin on her face. Stumbling, the mugger dropped the girl and began to back away. Grey Arrow, knelt to help up the poor girl and the man took this as his chance to escape.

"Where do you think you're off to?" she asked, throwing the already bloody knife into his thigh making him fall to the floor with a cry of pain. Before he could even get the chance to stand up, Grey Arrow put her foot on his chest pinning him to the floor.

"Alright! I give up! Take me in!" he cried.

The grin didn't leave her face as she gripped the knife hanging from his thigh. "I want you to apologize to the lady first," she demanded, the man groaning in pain.

"The hell I will!" he countered. Grey Arrow only turned the knife in his thigh, making him scream in pain.

"I said, apologize." She demanded once again, her voice dropping to a dangerous tone that the criminals of Star City knew all to well.

"Arrow, I don't nee-" the girl started.

"He will apologize, it's considered good manners." Grey Arrow seethed, twisting the knife further.

The man let out a blood curdling scream, "Alright! Fine, I'll apologize!" he cried. At this, Grey Arrow stilled her hand.

"We're waiting."

"I'm sorry! God, I'm sorry! Now let me go!"

Grey Arrow released her grip on the knife, and got to her feet. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" she asked.

"Fuck you." he spat, gripping his bleeding thigh.

Grey Arrow punched him, knocking the man out. "In your dreams." Then she turned to the girl behind her, staring at her in bewilderment.

"Call the police." She ordered, the girl picked up her phone and began dialing quickly. "Also, don't mention me if you don't mind." and with that, Grey Arrow took off for her bike, hidden a few blocks down.

Dropping down from the fire escape, she landed on her bike gracefully and revved it to life the sleek, black vehicle humming underneath her. Blowing some stray hair out of her face, she took off for Queen Manor.

Pulling into the underside, Aurora Sonnet-Queen removed her domino mask, her brown eyes scanning across the Arrow Cave. Swinging her leg up and off the bike, Rory made her way to her case and out her mask and weapons away safely.

The Arrow Cave had been quiet ever since Roy left to join the Outlaws with his other best friend; Jackson Rod or whatever along with a few of their other mutual friends and old flames of Rory's. If her memory served her right, and she was always right, there was only one person on the team that she hadn't met and it was Jackson.

Grabbing some gauze, Rory untied her chest piece and let it fall to her waist still wearing a black razor top underneath. The stab wound on her shoulder wasn't bad, but it did need to be doctored. Lucky for her, Oliver and Dinah taught her how to apply first aid.

Dressing the wound was not a painful as she thought it would be, it just required cleaning and a couple of homemade stitches. Once she finished, Rory slid the rest of her suit off and hung it up in her display case. Taking her glance to the left, she saw not only her Arrowette suit, but her White Arrow suit.

Every time she laid her eyes on this suit, Rory felt a pang in her chest longing for the girl she used to be. But she could never be that girl again. Turning away, she made her way to the stairs that led up to the mansion. The second she entered the main lobby, there was a yell across the mansion.

"Aurora James Queen! My study now!"

Something told Rory that Oliver found out about something she did and that was never good news.

Normally, Oliver and Rory had a great relationship, but this last year was hard on her. Aurora used to be the White Arrow; the symbol of hope and pure goodness in Star City. But everything was different now.

Rory was now the Grey Arrow and preferred to work alone. Oliver, Dinah and especially Roy hated that she pushed them all away. Roy had been her best friend for years now and she trusted him more than anyone, except for the fact that she refused to work with him now and it was for his own safety.

What could Oliver had found out this time? Truth be told Rory didn't hold many secrets from Oliver, just the ones she knew that he would not agree or approve of. Slowly creaking the door open, Rory saw both Oliver and Dinah waiting her. Now she knew that whatever this was about, it was bad.

Hey Oli, what's up?" she asked, her signature smile gracing her face.

"What's up? Why don't you ask the three comatose thugs you put in the hospital last night?" he frowned, crossing his arms.

Well, there could be worse he found out about. Rory moved and sat in the chair across from him. "They were rapists Oli, they're lucky that I didn't castrate and leave them for dead." she said sternly, her gaze not breaking from Oliver's.

Oliver's eyes didn't break their gaze either. It seemed that her was searching for any sense of remorse let alone any emotion but all he saw was nothing. That's what worried him and Dinah the most. Rory seemed to have no form of emotion any more other than rage and her usual sarcasm.

"Aurora, you can't keep going on like this. One day you're going to take it too far and you won't be able to come back from it." Dinah said, moving to kneel next her seat.

Rory avoided Dinah's gaze, knowing full well that she could convince her to do anything with just one look.

"In case you both forgot, I did cross that line. Looks like I am just fine." she snapped, not taking her gaze off Oliver.

"That's the thing, you aren't fine. We adopted you, raised you  and brought you into this world of crime fighting. Of course we can tell when you are not fine and you haven't been fine since out last encounter with Slade."

Hearing that name set Rory's heart on fire. Memories flooded her mind of all the dead bodies, including her parents. Absentmindedly, her hand traced the thin golden brand on her wrist. The last gift her father had given her mother for their last anniversary.

"This is why you can't stay here."

Rory's eyes narrowed. "What, so you're going to kick out your daughter out?"

"No, you are going to be staying with a friend from the league for a while."

Rory let out a groan. "Oh please tell me that it's not the golden boy, Superman." she threw her head back. "I can't do his boy scout attitude."

Dinah tried to hide her laugh, "No, Clark is not who you are staying with dear."

"Then where would I be staying?" Rory asked, looking at her adoptive mother.

"You are going to Gotham City to stay with Bruce Wayne. Dinah and I think that if anyone can help you overcome the darkness in your heart, it would be the Dark Knight himself." Oliver explained. "Even Roy agrees with us. He is just as worried about you."

"You're sending me to Gotham? Oli, did Merlyn hit you too hard last week? The crime rate in Gotham is worse. You really think that this will help?" she countered. "Besides, do you not remember the last time I saw Bruce? I kicked his ass and bleached his cape."

"Yes, I remember. It still baffles me that you managed to bleach his bat cape. But Bruce agrees, he thinks you might be able to learn something from him and his family. All of them have been trained since a young age too." Oliver said, his gaze not faltering.

Letting out a sigh, Rory nodded. "All right fine, when do I leave?"

Both Oliver and Dinah decided that it was best if only one of them flew Rory down to Gotham, Star City still needed a hero and they were not stupid enough to let her go on her own either. The good news was that the flight was only 8 hours long, even though Rory hated flying. The last time she flew, it was not in a plane.

The Justice League's resident golden boy decided that it was a good idea to fly her across Star City. Supes was in town to help Oliver on a case when Count Vertigo attacked the hospitals. Just remembering that day sent shivers down her spine, making Oliver take notice.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

Rory nodded, "Yeah, just glad that there is no one in Gotham can fly. Right?" she asked. Oliver laughed at her question.

"No one I know of can fly in Gotham." His statement set Rory at east as she finally relaxed into her seat.

[ughgclden]

bee, love, don’t apologise, please, it’s okay, and first and foremost, are you alright?? i hope you’re taking care of yourself, love, but i understand, i don’t think there’s been a year since third grade that i haven’t gotten pneumonia in the winter. I hope you’re feeling alright!!

honestly, dead poets society is one of my only personality traits anymore, i find myself drawing parallels to it constantly, for no reason but i love thinking about it. i’ve watched it so many times at this point, it’s,,, concerning. those tests always take me way less time than they give me, and i used to feel really awkward, i remember i took a bio one once, four hours they gave me, 45 minutes in, i was finished, and the moderator didn’t believe me. i aced it too, like the silly little neil kinnie i am. i’ve gotten used to the ‘worse’ side of being a neil kinnie, and honestly, now that my mum isn’t as controlling about everything as she used to be, it’s easier to deal with. i remember once, i’d gotten an 89 in algebra, and she threatened to pull me out of the fall show. that was a neil perry moment if i ever had one lol. the biggest thing these days is just imposter syndrome, imposter syndrome like oh you’re not hispanic enough, but also, you’re not queer enough, nonbinary enough, things like that. It’s exacerbated some days, but i try.

i watched the it movies on my cousin’s hbo,,, i may or may not have used it without her permission since she forgot to log out of my computer, but that’s neither here nor there. i remember having such a hard time taking the first one seriously initially, because of all the new kids on the block jokes, having a mum who was obsessed with them made it hard, especially when i actually got them all- in truth, the only midnight premiere i’ve been able to make was the force awakens, and i had school the next day too. i’m definitely a richie kinnie, and i have the internalised homophobia (only towards myself though) to prove it /hj my waterbottle has both a sticker of neil on it and a sticker of the r + e carving on it. in case there was any doubt about me lmao. stan kin makes sense for you, honestly, i can see it, i can see it.

okay so listen- no really, i’d bought them with the intention of only drinking half of one that night and spreading them out like that, but then came 9:45pm, and i had a research paper (on womens’ pockets/lack thereof) due at 10am that i simply hadn’t even started, so i downed them all in an hour and got the paper turned in at 5:56 in the morning. but i scare you huh? /hj bee, you’re too sweet, in truth, i’m fairly inelegant, but i try, as for the comforting and cosy, i’ll take you at your word, since that is something only someone interacting with me could discern. i do try to be kind to others for the most part. mainly i think because i’m usually on the other end of mean people.

i’m just perceptive like that bee, i dunno what to tell you, something just tells me, you know? /j and thank you, i always feel a little silly talking about it, because most of the tattoos i want are dead poets society tattoos, i guess some part of me, within the part of me that feels so incredibly tied to it, feels as if if i were able to get a tattoo i’d owe it to the movie in some way, if that makes any sense. i’ve already begged a friend of mine to go with me to get my first once i get to new york, the question though, is what to get first. i’ve got time to make a decision (for once in my life) i just spend a lot of time thinking about it.

honestly, i have never known a school rule to make sense. banning ripped jeans? banning dyed hair? it’s almost as if if they don’t stifle everything natural about kids expressing themselves they dont feel like they’re doing anything. but i digress. the same-sex couple rules were. awful. 12 year old me had enough going on without having an administrator yell at my friend and i for hugging in the courtyard and not leaving until we were a foot apart, but hey.

okay, jumping over a fence to go to a mcdonalds? how coming of age indie movie manic pixie dream girl of you /hj

200k words, is that a challenge? also ahaha not at all like my italian uncle up there just opened a ‘pizzeria’ /hj but mob!star au? might be a project i should start… granted, i’m not as good a storyteller as you, but i can try.

when i was little, i wanted to revolutionise things, i guess. i even actually wrote out a campaign, i wonder if its still somewhere. thank you for believing in me, but these days, bee, i’m thinking less about changing the world, and more about making it the next few weeks, and then the ones after that. little star was aware of so much, but also so little. i wonder what they’d think of me now, honestly.

i did, in fact, teach archery, it was so fun but my arms got SO SORE, and the kid who challenged my archery skills seemed surprised when i actually,, hit the bullseyes. my inner susan was happy then. incidentally the experience is also why i made a playlist called “touchstarved and wanting to teach you to shoot a bow” which low-key slaps when i’m lonely. and bee omg i cannot believe you said im better than susan pevensie i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life thank you- and yes, yes it was named aslan, however did you guess? /j prince caspian<33333

i’ll let you know my results from the tournament, as soon as they come out, and i say this having just put on pjs after taking off my suit, and sitting in the room with my cat in my dear evan hansen hoodie, frantically refreshing the results page because i’m anxious and impatient.

i hope you have a good night, with fitful and restful sleep, i’m sorry this got to be so long, but you know me, i certainly can talk. i’m honestly shocked i even made it to finals, considering i was running off four hours of sleep, having gone to bed at three last night. whoops.

all my love, hugs, and a warm mug of tea,

yours,

star✨

p.s i said yes so that?? happened?? it honestly feels surreal but we’re not gonna be in the same place anymore come the end of this year, so that’ll be something to deal with

P.p.s might just start adding spanish or latin or russian phrases to these if i keep having to translate your cute french bee /lh /hj

star my love, i know you said don't apologise, but i think the word 'sorry' makes up about 60% of my vocabulary. i'm okay!! was just a bit icky, but luckily i've recovered now!!

that's so nice - and again, makes so much sense for you. i think you would work perfectly in welton, i know it. i love bringing the messages from that film into my own life, as silly as it may sound. i'm astonished, and so fucking jealous of you. i used to finish tests maybe half an hour early, but hours is so impressive??? fun fact i did finish my physics final in about 45 minutes and slept for the other hour <3 neil would b proud my love!!! oh my god - i'm so sorry that happened??? but that is also so neil kinnie??? it seems futile me saying this, but i assure you that you are hispanic enough, and queer enough, and non-binary enough. you are enough, period. more than enough even. imposter syndrome is the worst, and i'm so so sorry you're dealing with it.

she did that to herself, you just saw an opportunity /lh a midnight premiere of the force awakens sounds so cute though omg - i hope you had the absolute best time. the r + e carving actually broke me. as a die hard reddie shipper since 2017, seeing the movie make it basically canon?! had me a mess in the cinema.

you are ridiculously comforting and cosy, everything about you feels like a warm hug from a familiar face and i love it. and the way you write is so smooth, it makes me think of a quill smoothly gliding across parchment, the deep black ink unsmudged and pristine. that seems a little pretentious of me, but oh well.

i also want some dps tattoos!! i desperately want "and still we sleep" from todd's poem, and was also so so tempted to get an outline drawing of meeks + pitts dancing on the roof. i love that, and i can't wait until the day you get it, whichever one it may be. my one concern is becoming addicted to them and making my bank account suffer - at least my piercing obsession is a little easier to fund /hj

i've NEVER gotten that - they claim it's 'distracting' but how on earth would it be?? when i got to college, no one was distracted by my dyed hair, and i certainly wasn't distracted by other people's outfits or painted nails. you were yelled at. for hugging. a friend.. what the fuck is wrong with these people??

just call me ramona flowers star /j it was possibly the highlight of my school career, sans hiding in the back room of the music room to avoid a maths test

i bet you're an amazing storyteller, if these letters are anything to go by. it would be a new york times best seller, i know it

we all have to take things one step at a time, i think. that's the only way i really get through things if i'm honest. one day after another and the cycle repeats. i love wondering what young me would think of me now - i'd probably be intimidated of myself, but i like to think i'd be proud that i'm still here, pursuing something i love

that playlist. sounds nothing short of sheer perfection. i too am touch starved and want to teach someone to shoot a bow - even though i.. cannot shoot a bow... but i can wield a sword so, it's close enough.

i saw your message about the tournament results - im so fucking proud of you!!!! you deserve it so so much and i couldn't be happier for you. see, your words and ideas are changing the world, even if you don't realise it.

ps; that is so fun???? omg im so happy for you star, you deserve tis <33 i hope towards the end of this year whatever happens leaves you both happy, no matter how far the distance.

pps; omg no.. please don't do that.. aha that would be awful... definitely wouldn't make my heart race.. haha not at all

all of my love, star. pardon the pun, but you are out of this world ;) i'll leave you with one of my favourite quotes;

il n'y a qu'un bonheur dans la vie, c'est d'aimer et d'être aimé <3