#discussing because they won’t be universal so who cares. they’ll just live inside my head

[compacflt]

Do you have any opinions on what kind of music mav and ice like? I’m just curious as someone who has motorcycle riding 80s navy dad whose favorite two artists were Madonna and Bruce Springsteen if you think the answer would surprise us? Or if they’d be as predictable as always

Yeah nothing crazy. kinda predictable i guess. classic rock, country rock, classic blues, nostalgic 60s folk, contemporary stuff when it comes on the radio and isn’t unlistenable by their middle-aged-white-man standards.

+ of course ice’s somewhat gay Fleetwood Mac entanglement

[tricksters-captain]

Helmut Zemo imagines - Hostage Part 2

AN: I’m so glad you guys liked the first chapter!! I’m sorry it’s taken longer than expected to get out!!

Summary: You were chosen as one of Karli’s elite. You became a super soldier to help your cause, make the world a better place but taking the serum came with a price. After being cornered one day, you’re taken by the famous Helmut Zemo to give him answers or face the consequences.

In This Chapter: You wake up to find Zemo has taken you hostage to find out information on the whereabouts of Karli Morgenthau. 

(PART 1 HERE)

Pairing(s): Zemo x Fem!Reader, Karli Morganthau x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 1,721

Warnings: Spoilers for TFATWS, violence, strong language

Zemo caught the young woman’s body as her eyes rolled back. He couldn’t help but let out a grunt as he lifted her up over his shoulder to remove her from the sewers before her accomplice could catch up. 

As he returned to the surface, he peered around the surrounding streets and then carried her over to a parked car. 

He placed her down beside the vehicle as he worked on opening it and getting it started. 

Laying her across the backseat, he made sure he had another syringe handy in case she woke before reaching the desired destination. 

Zemo pulled inside the large building, one of the many he confidentially owned, and removed the flagsmasher from the vehicle before taking her down to the basement of the building. 

He took a moment to remove his large coat as he began to sweat, tossing the expensive garment on the ragged old couch in the corner of the room. 

He carried the girl to the shackles on the wall and stood her up long enough to get the cuffs around her wrists and the thick metal band around her neck. It was a precaution taken to stop her from kicking off the wall if trying to escape. 

Zemo tipped her head back to allow access for the band to wrap around her neck, clasping it on wall behind her. He contemplated removing the flagsmasher mask but ultimately decided it would be easier to gain information from the woman if he couldn’t see just how young she was. Was it wrong for him to admit that? Yes. But he knew it would keep it less personal this way. 

He chained the girl’s ankles together before wiping his brow with his handkerchief and returning to fetch his coat. He figured she may not wake for a while so returned upstairs to make sure the site was secure. 

--

Zemo was grateful when he finally noticed signs of the woman stirring. He had waited long enough to be able to get his hands on one of Karli’s acolytes. 

He introduced himself but you already knew who he was. 

“We have a few things I’d like to discuss first.” Zemo admitted. 

“Like what?” You scowled at the man. 

“Like the whereabouts of Karli Morgenthau.” Zemo pressed his hands together behind his back as he looked upon you. 

You scowled at the man with his mention of Karli. 

“Why would I tell you anything?” You scoffed. 

“Because if you don't, I will simply find the means to force you to.” Zemo’s eyes never left yours as he spoke. 

“Go ahead and try.” You daringly invited him despite the hard knot in your gut. If someone had told you that taking the serum meant being stuck in some freaky torture chamber with Helmut Zemo a few months ago, you weren’t so sure you would’ve taken it. 

Zemo was infamous both as an agent of Sokovia and for single handedly ripping the Avengers apart. 

“Are you really that willing to die for someone who doesn’t even know or care where you are?” Zemo frowned, tilting his head at you. You tried to deflect his mind games but there was a speck of doubt starting to crawl into your mind. 

“They’ll come for me.” You proclaimed. 

“Perhaps they will.” Zemo shrugged, “Perhaps they’ll willingly come to their deaths or perhaps they’ll leave you here to be a martyr for their cause.” 

“You can’t beat us all.” You argued against his threat. 

“On the contrary, I can.” Zemo lifted his finger, his lips turning up into a small smirk as he began to slowly move around the room. “I have experience, and patience. A man can do anything if he has those.”

You tried watching him through your mask that had become increasingly more uncomfortable the longer you wore it. 

You decided against fuelling the fire and remained silent. 

“What's the matter?” Zemo cocked his head towards you. “Cat got your tongue?”

Again, you chose not to respond. 

Zemo quietly scoffed as he started to approach you. 

“Holding your tongue, Miláčik, will not aid you in any way.”

Once he seemed close enough, you tried to jolt forward against your restraints but ultimately failed. 

You choked against the metal neckband and your wrists cried out against the cuffs. They had been much stronger than anything you had encountered before. 

“Vibranium.” Zemo gestured to your holds. “Very difficult to get hold of and very expensive.”

Zemo’s fingertips pressed together as he studied you. You were avoiding eye contact with the man but instead searching the room for any way to get out of your restraints. 

“There is no escape.” Zemo announced as he clocked your behaviour. “The only way you are leaving this place is if you give me the location of Karli and her comrades.” 

“I’ll be leaving this place in a bodybag you mean.” You spat back. 

“Well, that all depends on how long it takes for you to give me what I desire.” Zemo’s smirk dropped. He lifted his chin slightly, glowering at you. 

“Fuck you.” You sneered. Zemo didn’t react to the deprecation, his face cold and hard as he stared unblinking. 

You almost thanked the universe when Zemo’s phone began to rang. 

Zemo answered it swiftly, walking off to the furtherest corner of the basement to take the call to stop you eavesdropping in any way. 

You tried fighting the restraints on your ankles but they were just as strong as the holds on your wrists. You wondered how long Zemo had planned to take one of you hostage. You internally scolded yourself. You should have been more careful. 

“I have some business to take care of.” Zemo interrupted your thoughts as he pulled his mobile away from his ear. “If I were you I’d consider my options whilst I am away. Once I return, we shall be having a little conversation one way or another.” 

You felt an ice cold chill roll down your spine from Zemo's threat. His voice sent goosebumps over your skin and his eyes held enough power to kill you right there.

You watched Zemo climb the rickety staircase without a second glance back to you. 

Sweat began to roll down your forehead under your mask. You growled, rubbing it against your arm to try and remove the damn thing. It didn’t take too long before it was clattering against the floor and you felt like you could finally breathe again. 

You inhaled the damp air deeply and rested your head back against the wall. 

Your mind diverged back to Deedee, you hoped she had gotten out before Zemo could have done anything. You knew he’d take her out if she tried to help you, he only needed one of you alive for information. 

You closed your eyes to try and hone in your senses. You tried to listen for any hint that might tell you where you were. The building was eerily silent despite the howling wind from above; you figured there must be some kind of broken window or hole in the wall causing the whistle. From the state of the room around you, you could tell this was an older building, vacated for a while. 

You couldn’t hear any cars, planes or voices. You had to be somewhere pretty secluded from the rest of the city.

Your eyes snapped open when you heard the latch of the door at the top of the stairs. 

Zemo’s footsteps were heavy as he descended back down to you. 

Your eyes found his hands as he rolled his sleeves up to just below his elbows. 

“Are you ready to talk?” He asked. When he lifted his head from his arms back to you, he froze in his step. Not that you noticed. 

His mouth closed and his jaw seized as his eyes absorbed your features. 

He hadn't expected you to have removed the mask. He recognised you from the mugshots but you looked very different in person. 

You were young, with soft features and your eyes were narrow with vexation. You were also very beautiful. He couldn’t deny that. 

He had to drop his eyes back to his sleeves when he felt an odd familiarity about you begin to impel. 

“What happened to the other woman I was with?” You asked, taking a minute before responding to the man. 

“She left you.” Zemo announced. You felt a wave of relief, realising that she escaped unharmed. 

You watched the man turn his back on you, approaching the small metal cart to his left and picking up a small scalpel. He examined it as he spoke. 

“This isn’t personal.” Zemo muttered. “I have no quarrel with what you are trying to do. It’s how you have decided to do it. Super soldiers should not be allowed to exist. I have spent years trying to end the super soldier line and I won’t stop until my work is finished.” 

“Until we are all dead.” You corrected him. 

“Not all.” Zemo shook his head. “You may still have a chance of survival after all this.” 

“To live whilst the people I care for are dead? That isn’t a chance I want to take.” 

“You may care for them but I am certain they don’t care for you. Your so-called comrade left you alone in the tunnels despite your cries about trouble. Your death means nothing to them.” Zemo finally looked back at you. “You were a sacrifice they were willing to make.” 

You were hesitant to answer. You knew Deedee had only left because you had commanded her to. The team must all be sat around now wondering where you were, wondering how to get you back and if you are still alive. They wouldn’t just leave you. Karli wouldn’t leave you. 

“How can you expect me to give up any information if I know you’re just going to murder them if you find them?” You catechised Zemo. 

“Murder is a strong word. Would you say you murdered those innocent people in Vilnius?” Zemo’s mention of Vilnius made your stomach twist tighter. Nausea began to creep up on you and Zemo noticed the paling of your complexion. “Everybody has a breaking point. We just have to find yours.”

AN: NEW PART NEXT WEEK! Ask to be added to the taglist to keep up to date with all new parts!

Taglist  

@cathrin2405 @serenityfirefly97 @shannon-posts @dxnxdjarxn @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @trelaney  @sierrabaltzer  @daydreamer-in-training @e-barba @ornella0910 @natty13 @bry-97 @cherieweasley @kermuddgen @madelyn-barnes @jaxcliffaconda @candicerace @mo320 @takacsgram @hiccup005 @viviace @fillechatoyante @sapphiredreamer26 @misssilencewritewell @caligrl1992 @bbakugaan03 

[furiosophie]

maybe a little more oh the things we left behind epilogue fluff??? ;u; i know the entire epilogue was fluff but i am insatiable

yes very good thinking anon and sorry for the long wait my brain is just a heap of goo right now but here we go - some ottwlb fluff set between the Mandalorian war and the very last scene of the fic, a small compilation of how Din found the rest of their family:

oh the things we found

small TW for mentions of blood and trauma

Din doesn't in any way plan on becoming a magnet for Force-sensitive children, he really doesn't, but it happens regardless, something about his unique combination of Force-null beskar, Force-conduit darksaber, and Force-bond husband drawing them in like moths to a flame.

He finds Rey first, on a recon mission out to Jakku, casing a distress signal from a lost covert. She can't be any older than Ben, who is seven now and an absolute terror, but in comparison to him, she doesn't listen to Din one bit, her whole life just a series of defying the authority figures around her. She dangles from a rope above him, in the hollowed-out remains of an Imperial Star Destroyer, sticking out her tongue at him. "I'm not coming with you!" she declares while Din tries to position himself in a way that will allow him to catch her if she slips. "I'm waiting for my family. They're coming to get me!"

He doesn't have the heart to tell her no one in their right mind would ever willingly come back to a place like Jakku. He places all his rations, most of his credits, and, just for good measure, some bacta spray on the ground below her like he's making some offering to an ancient feral god and leaves with an ache in his chest.

"She won't come with me," he complains to Luke later, pacing up and down in the living area of the Mudhorn while Luke brews tea. They don't technically live in the Mudhorn anymore, have their own quarters in the ruins of Yavin's temple, but they always end up here regardless, whenever one of them comes back from a mission, whenever they need it to be just the two of them, away from everyone's worries.

Luke hands him a steaming cup and places a soft kiss on his temple. "Don't worry," he says, in that cryptic tone of his, the one he uses to tease Din when he's being daft about something that's impossible for him to know. "She will." And that's that.

Din goes back. Once, twice, three times, until the sparse crowd of locals looks at him with pity in their eyes. She does come with him eventually, after his eighths visit, when he draws the darksaber on a dune beast and turns around to find her looking at him with the type of recognition in her eyes that he's only ever seen in the way Luke looks at Ben and Grogu.

"She's like you," he accuses when Luke greets them at the bottom of the Mudhorn's ramp, Rey perched high on his shoulders, her arms wrapped around his helmet so tight it's hard for him to see. Luke just smiles and reaches out so Rey can tentatively take his hand. The change is instant - as soon as their palms touch her whole body relaxes as if something in her is finally at peace and Din has to reach up to keep her from sliding off his shoulders. And well. That's that.

Finn is next, standing tall in front of a group of terrified kids, in a backroom of the imperial laboratory they just raided, his eyes ablaze and lips turned up into a snarl. "I'll fight you," he snaps even as Din can see his hands shaking around the mop he fished out of the supply closet as a makeshift weapon. "I'm not scared, I'll fight you!" And really all Din can do in response is pull his helmet off and fall to his knees with his hands raised above his head.

It seems to work because he gets all of them into the Mudhorn eventually, Finn curled up on the copilot's seat, staring out in wonder at the endless expanse of space while the rest of the kids are rolled up into every available blanket in the captain's quarter. It's a bit of a rough start - where Rey felt turmoil because of the things swirling inside her without guidance, all Finn has ever known is supervision and people telling him to be something he's not, his connection to the Force tempered down in all the wrong places, too silent and too loud all at the same time, and in the first weeks, Din spends a lot of time hugging him close to the beskar plating of his chest, taking strolls under the quietness of Yavin's trees like he used to do with Ben. Finn quiets eventually, just as Rey did, the two of them getting on like a house on fire.

Shara is the one who brings Paige and Rose Tico, two sisters left stranded and alone by the still raging unrest of the remnants of war, and there is barely a discussion before she decides to take them in herself, the two of them glued to Poe the second they step off Shara's ship.

He finds Armitage last, standing over the dead body of an Imperial officer, blood on his hands and all across his face, just a sliver of yellow in the green of his eyes. Din has bruises on his arms for a week from how hard the kid strains against him as he tries to drag him out of the Star Destroyer before it self-destructs, but he figures, all things considered, they'll be able to handle that too.

He turns out to be a menace, of course, too smart for his own good, and way too stubborn to let Ben get away with his teasing, which always seems to end up Luke and Din having to physically drag them away from each other. Din tries to do for him what he did for everyone else, to hold him close and comfort him, but he only ever succeeds in the quiet of the night when he finds him at the very top of the temple wrapped up tightly in Luke's arms, both of them holding onto each other for dear life, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks tear-stained, darkness hanging around them like rain clouds.

Armitage takes a shine to Bo-Katan though, amidst all of his defiance, a fact that seems to confuse her as much as it does Din, and he knows that that will probably spell disaster in the future given how fast and feral Armitage takes to swinging a lightsaber, but to his relieve the Armorer steps up to pull him to her workshop by the back of his neck and balances the murder in his eyes with ever-evolving engineering challenges.

And so it takes a bit, quite a while in fact, but they find their balance eventually, their weird ever-growing family, all of them slotting into each other in a way that sometimes makes Din wonder if this was their doing too, Luke's and his, if in bending the universe around them, and in becoming one in the Force they somehow became a beacon for all those who are lost.

He wonders about it on the nights when, even after Han settles down on Yavin more or less permanently to be closer to Ben, and even after Paz bashfully asks to officially adopt Rey who's been glued to his shoulders for months, and even after Armitage makes it very clear that he doesn't plan to ever be adopted by anyone, Luke comes back from an excursion to find Din pilled into their bed with a bunch of wayward Foundlings.

"Sorry," Din mumbles sleepily as Luke steps over a snoring Paz who's taken up guard in the hallway, "It just happened."

"Is there room for one more?"

"Unlikely," Din sighs as he always does, but Luke finds a spot anyways, shuffling the kids around until they are just awake enough to demand a story from him.

"It's late," Luke smiles as Din pulls him closer to lean their foreheads together in greeting, Grogu climbing up from where he was tucked beneath Ben's chin to settle in between his dads. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

"Just one!" Rey pleads from her spot at Din's side, Finn's head popping up behind her in a show of support and Luke raises a warning eyebrow as Poe and Rose scoot closer from where they were sprawled over Din's legs. "You always say we need to be curious about the world around us!"

"It will help us sleep," Armitage argues from his spot at the end of the bed, the one he takes to pretend he doesn't care about any of this, and starts scooting close too, shoving at Ben to make space.

"They make a good point," Din interjects gently and pulls Armitage out of the way and between them before Ben can get up enough to headbutt him with Din's helmet, which is a constant on his head on those nights where they all feel pulled towards each other.

"Traitor," Luke laughs, letting Armitage nestle in closer to him, but he'll tell them about his travels anyways until they are all knocked out and snoring peacefully and Din can press a quick kiss to Luke's lips without having to listen to a cascade of "ew" and "gross".

And so, in the end, he always drifts asleep knowing he doesn't fully understand it, not really, how they all manage to fit so perfectly into each other's lives, how he managed to find this, this place that is domestic in a way nothing in his life has ever been, but he figures he doesn't have to understand it, not when he also knows with absolute certainty that they are all exactly where they are supposed to be.

[rhosyn-du]

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Two

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321​ Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue​ Tags:  Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Two

They didn’t talk more about it later. Jace barely saw Simon at all over the following couple weeks, in fact. It’s not that he was intentionally avoiding Simon, but they both had final exams to study for, and Simon was wrapped up in guitar ensemble rehearsals for the winter concert on top of that. If Jace had spent a little more of his study time in the library than was strictly necessary and that just happened to prevent any further discussions of dispays of physical affection and practice dates, that was entirely beside the point.

What Jace hadn’t counted on was how unprepared he’d feel pulling up outside the Queen Anne style townhouse he’d called home for most of his childhood. He suddenly wished he’d let Simon talk him into driving together and using the drive as a last minute planning session, even if it meant they’d need to coordinate their trip back to Boston. As much as he’d been avoiding talking about their plan, it really only occurred to Jace on the drive how much he wished they actually had, you know, a plan.

“Wow,” Simon said, hopping out of the hand-painted van he’d parked right behind Jace’s car. “Is that an actual turret?”

“Yup, gotta love those late 19th century architectural fads,” Jace answered as he pulled his suitcase out of the trunk. “The house belonged to Maryse’s grandparents, and I’ve never been able to tell how much she actually likes the style and how much is just childhood nostalgia, but she hasn’t even changed much of the interior except for renovations and repairs.”

“I have a hard time imagining growing up in a place like this,” Simon said as he joined Jace with his own suitcase in hand. “And it’s not like my mom’s house is tiny or anything, but this is just...” He waved a hand vaguely at the house. “A lot.”

He didn’t ask why Jace was sharing a tiny apartment furnished entirely secondhand if his family lived in a house like this, and Jace didn’t offer an explanation.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Jace said, even though there was plenty to be nervous about. “I promise the house doesn’t bite.”

“Yeah, less worried about the house than the people in it,” Simon told him.

“I thought you were, like, the parent whisperer,” Jace teased. “Isn’t that why you offered to come with me? Because you make a great boyfriend? Trust me, as long as Alec and Izzy think you make me happy, they’ll love you, and you know more about comics than anyone I’ve ever met, so Max will love you regardless.”

“Okay,” Simon said, releasing a heavy breath. “Okay, thanks. You’re right, I just got a little intimidated by the house, but this is all going to be fine.”

“Maryse is probably going to hate you, though,” Jace continued, keeping his face carefully deadpan. “She hates everyone we bring home. It’s like a rite of passage. But you’re great with parents, so I’m sure you’ll at least avoid intentional food poisoning.”

Simon stared at him in horror, and Jace couldn’t keep a hit of a smile from breaking through.

“I hate you,” Simon told him.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Jace said, “I’m pretty sure the food poisoning wasn’t actually intentional.”

“Wait, there was actual food poisoning?”

“Come on,” Jace said, heading toward the door. “I want to get inside before we freeze to death.”

“You are such a dick sometimes,” Simon muttered, catching up to him.

Then, he slipped his free hand into Jace’s like it was a totally normal thing to do, and Jace had to catch himself from tripping over the steps.

“Careful,” Simon said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m not going to make a very good impression on your family if you fall and break your neck before we even get inside.”

And there was just nothing to say to that, to how uncomfortable it wasn’t to have Simon’s hand in his like this, to the way it made him want. So Jace simply rolled his eyes and pushed open the front door, letting the scent of home wrap around him like a warm blanket.

“Okay,” Simon said quietly as he surveyed the entryway, complete with antique chandelier. “Feeling a little intimidated again.” And it was so easy for Jace to just give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, you made it,” a warm voice greeted them. “With as bad as traffic has been, we thought you’d be another hour at least.”

“Hey, man,” Jace said, dropping Simon’s hand so he could pull his brother into a hug. “People must be staying home for the holidays this year, because we barely hit any traffic at all.” He glanced around. “Where is everyone?”

“Iz should be here any minute, Max is holed up in his room playing video games with his friends, and Magnus is helping Mom with some last-minute grocery shopping for dinner tomorrow.” Alec held out a hand to Simon. “I’m Alec, since Jace apparently can’t be bothered to make introductions like a civilized person.”

“It’s okay,” Simon said, giving his hand a quick shake, “I gave up on the idea of Jace being civilized the first time I saw him eat pizza that had been sitting out on the counter for three days.”

“That was your pizza,” Jace pointed out.

“Yeah,” Simon said, “which I was going to throw away because I forgot about it for three days.”

“On the subject of uncivilized,” Jace said, turning back to Alec, who was looking just a little too pleased, “you really sent Magnus shopping with Maryse? Buddy, if you decided you don’t want to marry the guy, just break it off with him. You don’t have to throw him to the wolves like that.”

Alec’s tiny smile became a little less tiny and a whole lot softer. “Magnus and Mom have actually been getting along lately. She wanted his opinion on wine pairings, so they went to the store and left me here so I can pull the bread out of the oven when it’s done. It’s very weird, but also nice.”

“That does sound very weird,” Jace told him, “but I’m glad things are working out and Maryse has found some level of chill somewhere.”

“Hopefully that means I won’t get poisoned,” Simon said.

Alec snorted. “If you want to avoid it, you should probably avoid mentioning you know about that. Or any other embarrassing family stories Jace might have shared with you.”

“And don’t eat anything Izzy hands you,” Jace added. “Anything she cooks probably won’t kill you, but the taste will make you wish you were dead.”

“So, I should just fast while I’m here,” Simon said. “Good to know.”

Jace led Simon upstairs to drop off their bags while Alec checked on the bread.

“Just toss your bag anywhere,” Jace said, opening the door to his old room. “We can argue over who gets which side of the dresser later.”

“Sure,” Simon said cheerfully, “as long as we can be civil deciding who gets which side of the bed.” He stopped just inside the doorway. “Wow, okay. The apparently very small bed.”

And this really was something that should have occurred to him, Jace realized. It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered that he’d be sharing a bed with Simon. They’d even talked about it, briefly, and agreed it was no big deal. But Jace hadn’t considered exactly how much smaller his childhood bed was than the generous queen he slept in back home. It was technically large enough to fit two grown men, but only technically.

“Don’t worry,” Jace said, falling back on his trademark bravado, “I won’t get mad if you cuddle me in your sleep. I know you can’t help it if your subconscious recognizes that I’m irresistible.”

“I’m more worried about your freakishly sharp elbows,” Simon muttered.

“As long as you don’t snore or steal the covers, you won’t have to worry about my elbows,” Jace told him. He was planning to keep his elbows, and the rest of him, as far away from Simon as possible. Which, given the size of the bed, was maybe three inches.

“Dude, I do not snore,” Simon protested. “You know that; we live together.”

“You absolutely snore after your fourth drink.”

“I wasn’t planning to get drunk with your family,” Simon said, tossing his bag onto the bed.

“You say that now,” Jace said, leaving his own bag next to the door. “But wait until you get the full Lightwood Christmas experience before deciding you want to spend the whole thing sober.”

“If your family drives me to drink, you don’t get to blame me for snoring,” Simon countered. Which was probably fair, but Jace was saved from having to admit that by the sound of voices coming from downstairs.

“That’d be Izzy,” Jace said, “and we’d better get down there before she accuses me of trying to hide you from her.”

“Jace,” called a singsong voice, right on cue, “quit making out with your mystery hottie and get down here so we can actually meet him.”

“You should be careful making demands like that,” Jace called back. “What if I’m not wearing any pants?”

“We’ve all seen it. Get your ass down here “

“I like your sister already,” Simon told him.

“You say that now, but wait until she decides you count as family. She won’t be any better with you.” He took Simon’s hand. Because it helped sell their relationship. Because he could. Simon laced their fingers together, and Jace tried not to feel any way about that at all as he led Simon back down the stairs.

They only made it a couple steps before Simon came to a complete stop, almost causing Jace to trip the rest of the way down the staircase. He heard Simon mutter a soft ‘oh crap’ at the same time a bright, redheaded whirlwind came rushing up the stairs at them.

“Oh my god, Simon?” Clary grabbed Simon into a giant bearhug, effectively tearing his hand out of Jace’s. “You’re Jace’s mystery boyfriend? How did I not know about this? You didn’t even tell me you were dating anyone, you jerk! What happened to best friend gossip privileges?”

Clary pulled back from the hug, and now that Jace could actually see her face, he could see the hint of concern she was trying to hide under her wide smile.

“Clary. Hi,” Simon said, eyes wide. “I was going to tell you, I swear. It’s just, this is kind of new and so...” He trailed off, looking panicked. His eyes caught Jace’s. “But, uh, yeah. This is Jace. My boyfriend. Jace, this is my best friend, Clary Fray.”

“Yeah,” Jace said, looking between the two of them and feeling more than a little out of his depth. He’d planned for things to be weird, but not this weird. “We’ve met.” He flashed Clary a smile. “Fray, huh?”

She nodded. “I couldn’t keep his name. Not after...after everything. Fray is the name Mom used before she married Luke. It’s the name I remember her having when I was little, so.” She shrugged. “I filed the paperwork to have it legally changed the day I turned eighteen.”

“It suits you,” Jace told her, and let himself be pulled into a tight hug that he suspected was as much because she needed one as that she was glad to see him. Clary had never told him much about the biological father she barely knew, but she’d told him enough to know that Clary held him responsible for her mother’s death, even if the courts had cleared him of any wrongdoing.

“Thanks,” Clary whispered, before surreptitiously drying her eyes on his shoulder and pulling back to flash a smile that was less forced than Jace expected. “So, tell me how this happened without me hearing about it.” She bumped Jace with her shoulder. “And if it’s so new, what possessed you to subject Simon to your family holidays?”

“Hey,” Izzy said, walking up behind Clary and wrapping her arms around her girlfriend’s waist. Jace had to admit, they looked...well, right together. “That’s my family, too, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Clary said, offering a soft grin over her shoulder. “And the fact that I’m here should tell you exactly how much I love you.”

“Fair,” Izzy said, then looked at Simon. “So, how’d my brother convince you to join this circus?”

“We made a trade,” Simon said, straight-faced. “I put up with his family for Christmas and he puts up with mine for my cousin Rachel’s wedding.” He leaned in and told Izzy in a stage whisper, “Also, I’m weak for his smile, but don’t tell him I said that, because he will abuse it.”

“You say that like I don’t already abuse it,” Jace said, sliding his arm around Simon’s waist in a mirror of Izzy and Clary’s pose. “And to answer your earlier question, us being officially together is new, but we’ve been sort of on the verge of dating for ages. Practically since we started sharing an apartment last year.”

Clary let out a peal of delighted laughter. “Oh, you’re the roommate. It makes sense now.” Before Jace could ask what made sense, she was pulling the both of them into a tight hug. “I’m really happy for both of you.”

“If I’d known you were going to be this excited, I definitely would have mentioned it sooner,” Simon said, pulling back from the hug.

Jace tried to catch his eye, wondering what on earth was going on. He knew both Clary and Simon well enough to know he was missing something, but he had no idea what it was. Simon ignored him, and that just made Jace more suspicious.

“Come on,” Izzy said. “You can have your hug fest later. Right now, I want to help Alec get things set up in the kitchen and maybe surprise Mom by getting dinner started before she gets back.”

Jace and Clary exchanged a panicked look, and Jace frantically searched his mind for excuses to keep Izzy busy. He didn’t actually want a repeat of the food poisoning episode, after all.

“Actually,” Simon said, turning a bright smile on Izzy. “I was kind of hoping you’d be willing to show me your Lego Star Wars collection before we get too wrapped up in family stuff. Jace mentioned you have the deluxe Imperial Star Destroyer set from the early 2000’s, and I’ve never actually seen one in person.”

“Oh,” Izzy said, looking torn. “I’m not sure—”

“We can help Alec in the kitchen,” Clary said quickly. “You two go do your nerd thing. I knew this was inevitable when I finally introduced you two anyway. And this way I get the chance to harass my bestie’s new boyfriend without him in the way trying to keep me from learning the embarrassing details.”

“You know, on second thought—” Simon began, looking slightly panicked.

“Come on,” Izzy interrupted, smiling brightly and grabbing his hand.

Simon flashed Clary a betrayed look, then looked to Jace for support. Jace simply smiled at him.

“Don’t worry, love muffin,” he said mildly. “I’d never intentionally embarrass you.”

“I want you to know that I hate both of you,” Simon said before allowing Izzy to drag him back up the stairs.

“My collection is all still in my old room,” Izzy said. “Clary and I have been looking for an apartment big enough I can actually move the rest of my stuff out of here, but so far we haven’t found anything in our price range.”

Jace turned back to Clary. “Exactly what kind of embarrassing stories were you hoping for? Because I have many.”

Clary shook her head. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got more embarrassing Simon stories than you do. I’ve got almost two decades worth. But I was actually hoping to talk to you alone anyway, and this seems like the best chance we’re going to get.”

Jace followed her down the stairs and into the study. “Sounds serious. You planning to give me a shovel talk?”

Clary laughed, shaking her head. “No, I know you, remember? I’m not worried about you hurting Simon. Well,” she amended, “not any more than I am about him hurting you.” She met his eyes with a soft smile. “You might be the only person I know with a heart as big as Simon’s, as much as you try to hide it.”

Jace looked away. It had been two years since the last time he’d seen her, and she could still see right to the heart of him. He didn’t want to know what she’d see if she kept looking. “Clary—”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” she teased. “But I didn’t actually bring you out here to talk about Simon. I wanted to apologize.”

Jace frowned, looking back at her. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” He was more than a little grateful not to have Clary grilling him about his entirely fabricated relationship, but he wasn’t sure where this conversation was going.

“No, I do,” she insisted. “I promised to keep in touch when you moved away, and I didn’t.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Jace said, even if maybe it had been at first. Those first few months at school had been hard. Jace always thought he was used to being alone, especially after his mother’s suicide, but he found out just how much he’d come to rely on his new family when he didn’t see them every day. They’d kept in touch, of course, but with Izzy immersed in her studies and Alec all wrapped up in his new relationship with Magnus, it wasn’t anything like what it had been when they were all under one roof.

For a while, he and Clary had been in touch nearly every day, sometimes texting multiple times a day. Jace told her about his classes and how much he liked Boston, and Clary told him all about trying to narrow down which art schools she wanted to apply to. It was almost the same sort of easy friendship they’d had before he left, after they agreed they were better off as friends.

But after a couple months, Clary’s messages came less and less often, and eventually stopped altogether. Jace tried not to let it bother him, but he started drinking a bit too much and going to a few too many parties. Which was how he’d met Maia, his attempts at flirting somehow leading to him getting his ass handed to him at beer pong, and soon he found himself with an entire group of new friends. Although Maia insisted for almost a year that she and Jace were merely antagonistic acquaintances.

Clary gave him a look that told him she knew exactly how full of it he was. “It was a shitty thing to do, and I was a shitty friend,” she told him. “Especially because I did it on purpose. Izzy and I started getting close and I started to have feelings for her, and I didn’t know what to say to you about it. I didn’t know how to even talk to you about what was going on in my life without mentioning that she was becoming such a big part of it.”

“You didn’t actually have to hide it from me, you know,” Jace said. “I was surprised when Izzy first told me, but I’m mostly just glad you’re both happy. And seeing you together, I know you both are.”

“Thanks,” Clary said. “I didn’t want to hurt you or make things weird. For a while, I thought I could just ignore what I was feeling, but Iz is just... She’s not someone you can ignore, you know?”

“Oh, I know exactly how hard my sister is to ignore, believe me.” Jace stopped, considered, then admitted something he had never said—would never say—to another person. But this was Clary, and he knew she would never repeat it. And even if she did, he could always play it off as part of the act. “She and Simon have that in common. You know, I actually thought I hated him at first? He’s so enthusiastic about everything, and so sincere, and just.” He shrugged. “Not the kind of person I thought would ever do it for me.”

“But he won you over with his boyish charm?” Clary guessed.

“Mm,” Jace agreed. And the way he loved without reserve. Not just his family and friends, but his music, his favorite films, even the crappy nachos from the 7-11 down the block from their apartment. Simon loved every part of life, and being around him, Jace could almost imagine what that felt like. “Well, that and his abs.”

“Can’t forget those,” Clary laughed.

“Not with how often he eats breakfast shirtless,” Jace agreed. “Come on. If we aren’t in the kitchen by the time Izzy gets back downstairs, you know she’ll try to help Alec herself, and I was kind of hoping for dinner to be edible.”

~~~

Dinner was surprisingly painless. Maryse was more relaxed and happy than Jace had ever seen her, and he couldn’t help wondering how much of that was related to the very unsubtle smiles she kept exchanging with Clary’s stepfather. Even Max, who was deep in throes of preteen scorn, grudgingly admitted that Simon being in a band was “pretty cool” and joined in on some of Simon, Clary, and Izzy’s excited nerd talk that went entirely over Jace’s head.

After dinner, they retired to the living room for eggnog and carols. Jace limited himself to a single cup of Magnus’s infamous eggnog, knowing better than to let himself get drunk when he was putting on a show for his family. Or sharing his tiny bed with Simon.

As usual, Jace let himself get pushed over the piano to play. He felt something in him settle as soon as he rested his fingers on the keys of Maryse’s baby grand, the feel different and so much more familiar than the ancient keyboard he had back in Boston or the well-used uprights in the practice rooms at school.

When Jace had first come to live with the Lightwoods, he’d been afraid to touch the piano. His mother had put him in lessons as soon as he was old enough, but she hated to listen to him play and often chastised him for not being a better player, saying he should be better at it with how talented his father was. Now, he understood that it was just another manifestation of the combined grief and mental illness that led to Celine’s death, but at the time he’d hated how awful he was at playing, no matter how much he enjoyed doing it.

But Maryse knew he played and encouraged him to use her piano. She told him that it had been her father’s, and though she’d taken lessons herself as a child, she’d never really loved it the way he had. She said that the instrument deserved to be loved, and as long as Jace loved playing it, she didn’t care how good he was or wasn’t.

It was the first time he’d really felt like this could be his home.

“Okay,” Jace said after the third version of O Tannenbaum with ridiculous altered lyrics—this one courtesy of Simon rather than Max or Clary, about an ill-fated toad who chose the wrong moment to cross the street, “I think my fingers are done for the night.”

“Oh, come on,” Clary said. “Simon and I have at least a dozen more of these we came up with when we were kids.”

“When we were little, I only knew the lyrics to the Christmas songs they played on the radio, so Fray made up silly lyrics to the other ones and told me they were real,” Simon explained. “And it made her so happy that I went along with it even for the couple I did know.”

“There will be plenty of time for more singing tomorrow,” Maryse said. “But if I know this one,” she continued, smiling at Max, “we’re all going to be dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn for presents.”

“Mom,” Max whined, “I’m not a kid anymore. I know the presents will still be there whenever I get up.”

“I seem to remember someone who looked an awful lot like you waking us up before sunrise last year,” Magnus said with exaggerated confusion. “Perhaps you have a twin I haven’t met?”

Max fixed him with a withering look. “Last year, I was eleven. This year I’m twelve,” he said, as though that explained it.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’ve grown out of it,” Alec told him. “Because I intend to sleep in. And if you try to get me out of bed early, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”

“Oh, no need for that, darling,” Magnus said cheerfully. “I’ll just barricade the door before we go to sleep so he can’t get to us.”

“Brilliant,” Alec said, giving Magnus a frankly sappy smile. “I knew there was a reason I loved you.”

“And on that note,” Jace said, “I think I’m going to head to bed before I die of sweetness overdose.”

“Oh, please,” Magnus said, giving him an unimpressed look. “We all saw you and Simon making eyes at each other over those cookies you were frosting earlier.”

“It’s true,” Izzy said before Jace could protest. “You don’t get to tease Alec about being a sap anymore, not now that we’ve all actually seen you with someone you love.”

Jace froze, his mouth half open, then quickly snapped it shut. It made sense that Izzy would assume. He’d brought Simon home for Christmas, after all. That was the story they were selling even if they hadn’t actually discussed it, even if it wasn’t something Jace had said or even implied. And whatever he did feel for Simon, it certainly wasn’t love. It was, at best, a friendly crush. A very intense friendly crush.

Izzy seemed to realize her mistake, glancing between him and Simon with a look of dawning panic.

“No, you’re misunderstanding how this works,” Simon said easily, because of course Izzy’s words hadn’t sent him into a panic the way they had Jace. “Jace gets to tease Alec, and you, and you both get to tease him back.”

“Yep,” Clary agreed. “Those are the rules, because that means I still get to tease Simon.”

“Please,” Izzy said. “Clary and I are too sophisticated to be sappy.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard you call Clary ‘cuddle bug’ earlier,” Alec said.

“And I definitely saw you laugh at that terrible joke she told at dinner,” Jace added.

“She ate one of the cookies you made,” Max accused.

“Yeah, sorry, cutie,” Clary said. “We’re really pretty sappy.”

“Fine,” Izzy huffed. “But I just think you’re all jealous because I’ve got the cutest girlfriend.”

“Yes, Izzy,” Alec said drily. “You’ve uncovered my secret. I’m extremely jealous of your girlfriend.”

“I knew it,” Izzy said smugly, as though Alec had been perfectly sincere.

“Definitely in danger of dying of sweetness overdose,” Jace said.

That set off another round of teasing, this time with Izzy throwing in not so subtle attempts to drag Maryse and Luke into it. Jace wasn’t sure why Izzy was so determined to make the two admit there was something between them. It was obvious there was just from the way they acted around each other. Maryse would tell them when she was ready, just like she had when she and Robert filed for divorce.

It was almost another hour before Jace finally made his way up the stairs toward his room. He was surprised when Simon rose to follow him, but didn’t say anything until they were back in his room.

“I’m surprised you didn’t stay to nerd out with Clary and Iz some more.”

“I get to talk to Clary all the time,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, it’ll be easier to keep up the whole fake boyfriend thing if I don’t let her get me alone. She’d definitely figure out something’s up if I let her start grilling me about our relationship. Also, you don’t get to call me a nerd when you know just as much about Star Wars as I do.”

“It’s impossible to grow up with Izzy and not know way too much about Star Wars,” Jace said, pulling off his shirt and tossing it over a chair. “Are you still sure about doing this? Neither of us counted on Clary, and I’ll understand if you want to back out.”

“Huh?” Simon said, sounding distracted. Jace turned to look at him and thought he detected the faintest flush on Simon’s cheeks when he met his eyes. “I mean, yeah, no, I’m not backing out.” He gave an uncomfortable shrug as he pulled a set of pajamas out of his suitcase. “The last thing I want is to have to explain this whole thing to Clary.”

“Good point,” Jace agreed, turning around to put on his own pajama bottoms. It was tempting to watch Simon change, but it was also a very bad idea. “I don’t want to think about what she’d have to say to both of us if she knew.”

There was a beat of silence before Simon asked, “So, do you, um, have a preferred side of the bed?”

Jace turned to look at him, only a little disappointed to find Simon fully dressed in his pajamas. As usual when someone asked a question he didn’t want to think about, Jace flashed a smirk. “In a bed this small, I usually just take up the whole thing.”

“Well, unless you want me on top of you, you should pick a side,” Simon said, unimpressed. “Because I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

“I’ll take the left,” Jace said quickly, trying and mostly failing to avoid thinking about exactly how much he did want Simon on top of him. “I’m just gonna hit the bathroom real quick.”

Which was how Jace found himself locked in the tiny guest bathroom, lip caught between his teeth as he frantically tugged at his cock. He hadn’t planned on jerking off, but he couldn’t get Simon’s words out of his head, and he sure as hell wasn’t getting into bed with Simon half-hard, which was really the only other option.

He could picture it far too easily. Simon pressing him into that ridiculously tiny bed, hands gentle but firm, mouth just a little bit desperate.

He came to the thought of rutting up against those ridiculous abs.

By the time Jace cleaned himself up and returned to his room, Simon was nestled under the covers on the right side of the bed. Seeing him like that made something in Jace’s chest clench, and he flipped the light off just so he wouldn’t have to look anymore.

“‘Night,” Simon said as Jace slid into bed, taking care to stay entirely on his side.

“Don’t even think about snoring,” Jace answered.

He lay in the dark for a long time, staring into the darkness, listening to the sounds of the city that didn’t quite drown out the soft breathing of the man beside him. He tried not to think about how easy and relaxed the night had been, how perfect it would have been if only half of it weren’t a lie.

[moonsofmars-writes]

The seed of a promise

Fandom: 七つの大罪 - 鈴木央 | Nanatsu no Taizai | The Seven Deadly Sins - Suzuki Nakaba (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Diane & Fairy King Harlequin Characters: Fairy King Harlequin, Diane, Ludociel, Gerheade, Helbram, Elaine Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, War, Death, Blood and Injury, Nothing is graphic, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Hopeful Ending, Pre-Relationship

Summary: In a world where the Holy War didn’t end with Elizabeth and Meliodas, where Mael never became Estarossa, a final battle has just been fought.

The Holy War is finally over.

As the victors gather and the vanquished are chased and finished, the young Fairy King tries to find a way to prevent yet another tragedy - and ends up finding an ally in an unexpected place.

Notes: I've been wondering for a while what would have happened if Gowther's plan hadn't worked and Demons and Goddesses had kept fighting and this is what I managed to come up with! Since it's me, King and Diane are also here - with a whole lot of drama.

Please, enjoy!

There is blood on his hands and his clothes, on his wings and his hair. It makes his jacket heavy and his skin unpleasantly slick. Harlequin can’t bring himself to care right now.

The battle is over, yet he keeps flying over the field, eyes darting from a corpse to the other, studying the survivors as they make their way through the craters and bodies that cover the ground. Most of them walk silently, looking around as if they just woke up from a dream; others are frantic and turn their heads left and right, calling out names and getting no answer.

Harlequin doesn’t call but still searches. The knot in his stomach starts loosening only when he finally catches a glimpse of Elaine on the ground, standing among some human soldiers, alive and apparently unarmed. He is too distant to see her expression when she looks up at him, but he can read her heart as she can read his and what he reads is relief and exhaustion and grief. Later, when they’ll be home, they’ll find each other to whisper words of loss and comfort, or maybe they’ll just rest together, shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand, as they did when they were younger. Right now, they both have other matters to take care of.

Minutes later, Helbram waves at him, a tired grin on his face. He is floating over the remains of a burned tree surrounded by a group of Fairies, to whom he soon returns to give orders. Harlequin doesn’t approach them and heads forward, feeling relieved that his best friend is fine. He knows he can leave this part to him; after all, Helbram has been his first in command for years. He knows perfectly how to handle the aftermath of a battle.

Gerheade is the next. His advisor looks tired, there is a cut on her cheek and bruises on her left arm, but the purple blood staining her dress isn’t hers. “We are still not sure about the number,” she says after a quick bow. They have done this countless times before, and she knows exactly what he wants to know. “For now, the reports indicate that more than five hundred have fallen. The wounded we have found are being taken care of by the Goddesses. I’ll personally check how many won’t be able to fly back on their own.”

Harlequin nods, clasping his hands behind his back. More than five hundred have died today. He expected a high number, considering that they have battled for hours; he still feels sick. More than five hundred Fairies won’t return to the Fairy King’s Forest alive, five hundred people who trusted him, followed him, and he failed to protect. Deep down, he knows it could have gone worse. If they had lost this battle, he doubts many would have left the field alive, and their home would have been next. Had they lost here, his entire Clan would have eventually been wiped away by the enemy.

Still. Five hundred. He swallows hard and sighs, “Give the order to gather the bodies. We are taking them home.”

Gerheade frowns, a question on her lips, but she holds it back when she meets his eyes. “As you wish, my king.” They have never collected such a large amount of bodies from the battlefield, and it will take hours to find them all and bring them back to the Fairy King’s Forest. It doesn’t matter. He couldn’t protect them, but this doesn’t mean he will abandon them. They deserve this, at least.

His next task is a little more bothersome but necessary. Tomorrow morning there will be an official meeting for the leaders of Stigma, but he doesn’t want to leave before checking on the Goddesses.

Read on AO3

As he flies, Harlequin’s gaze turns to the east. That’s where the Demons came from, where the Demon King opened a portal from the Demon Realm to bring most of his army to Britannia. He is fairly sure that the portal collapsed when the Demon King died, destroyed by the hand of the Supreme Deity; still, many Demons flew in that direction when they realized the battle was lost as if in a last attempt to save their life. That’s where the Goddesses warriors have followed them, too.

In the distance, Harlequin can see figures battling in the air, he can see smoke rising from the ground and flashes of light against the darkening blue of the sky. Inside, he feels nothing but exhaustion. Driven by the euphoria following their victory, some Fairies have tried to chase after the Demons too, yelling menaces and obscenities. He stopped them, of course. He has no rule over the other Clans, but he does over his people and he decided that today, no other Fairy will die and no other Fairy will kill.

Briefly, he wonders if there are still Giants standing with the Demons. So many kept fighting until the very end, even after their leader Matrona was killed, but it’s hard to believe that not even one gave up to fear and tried to save themselves at last. As he stares at the fight that still consumes in the distance, Harlequin feels as his bowels have turned into stone. Even if they had tried to escape, they are probably being killed right now. And all of that, because the Giant Clan chose to side with the Demons.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, so he decides to push it away and focus on his task. There is nothing he can do for the Giants right now. And at least, even though he knows he is being selfish, he is relieved he doesn’t sense her power over there. Perhaps it’s because she is already dead, but right now, Harlequin allows himself to hope.

He finds Ludociel hovering high in the sky, giving orders to a small group of Goddesses. “Ah, Fairy King,” he welcomes him with his usual smile, gesturing at his soldiers to go. Some bow and fly away, others stay close, hands tight around their weapons, watching carefully their surroundings. Ludociel’s guards. Stigma’s victory has been overwhelming today, but they are obviously not going to let their guard down anytime soon.

Ludociel pays no attention to them as he turns towards Harlequin. There are stains of dirt and dry blood on his feathers, yet his cape is immaculate, so white it hurts his eyes; he probably changed it as soon as the battle was over. “I see your army is preparing to retreat.”

“My people need rest,” Harlequin says, eyes wandering over the few Goddesses around them, over their tattered clothes and bruised skin. “As does yours.”

“We will get to it,” Ludociel dismisses the problem with a wave of his hand. “As soon as our enemies are gone for good.”

There is something in his tone that makes Harlequin’s hands twitch. “Most of the Demon warriors have died today,” he says slowly, “The Demon King is gone. All his Commandments are gone.” He took some of them down himself. Even the Demon King’s son fell, overpowered by the magic of the Archangels. “Isn’t it enough?”

Ludociel hums. “The most of the work is done, undoubtedly. However, we can’t know for sure how many Demons are left in the Demon Realm unless we don’t verify.” His voice is sweet as honey, it clashes unpleasantly with the cold implication of his sentence.

“We both know that the ones left in the Demon Realm are mostly civilians, Ludociel. Will you slaughter them too? Even the ones who cannot fight? Even their children?”

There is a moment of pause, as Ludociel studies him, tilting his head, his expression unchanged. “We will do what’s necessary,” he finally says. “We don’t want anything like this to happen again, don’t we?”

It takes an effort not to react to the veiled threat in his words, but Harlequin knows this game well; he won’t offer Ludociel anything, especially not a sign of weakness. “What about the Giants?” He asks instead.

Ludociel paints regret in his expression like a skilful painter. “They will be taken care of too. They are traitors, and as such they will be considered.” He slightly shakes his head, “Such a shame, don’t you think?”

This time, Harlequin doesn't hold back. “I don’t think it’s wise to pursue them more. They have lost many lives today, and they lost their chief. They will not be a threat anytime soon.”

“Ah, still nostalgic of the times they were our allies, young king?”

“I just believe,” he answers coldly, “that the relationships among our Clans will run more smoothly if they’ll see us show mercy. The Giants they left behind today are but their youngsters and mothers with children - they knew this battle was decisive. Are you truly planning to exterminate them all?”

“What I’m planning to do is to find them and ensure that we won’t get another unpleasant surprise. Stigma will decide about their fate.” The Archangel shakes his head again, and this time a faint smile appears on his lips. “You are too young to remember clearly about their treason, I’m afraid. We won’t show their warriors more mercy than what they showed us, and about the others … there is time, now. The humans will want to have their say too.”

There is no point in discussing this now. Harlequin feels the gaze of the other Goddesses on him, the resolution radiating from Ludociel’s heart, and suddenly, he feels incredibly exhausted. “Very well,” is what he forces out of his mouth, “We will speak about this tomorrow.”

“Indeed,” Ludociel hums before looking away, as to imply that Harlequin is dismissed. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion, both physical and emotional, but this time his arrogance doesn’t touch the Fairy King. He leaves without another word and flies down, towards the scarred ground.

Giant, Fairy, Demon and Goddesses’ magic destroyed this plain. Rocky spurs rise wrapped in vines among still fuming craters, and wherever his eyes can reach hundreds, thousands of bodies are scattered. Harlequin would want to look away, for once. He is so tired of death.

And that’s exactly why he forces himself to keep looking. He is tired of death, and he won’t let anyone else die in this war if he can help it. He already looked before, but now he has to make sure that her body isn’t among the fallen. Could have she fled? It hurts to realize that he can’t be sure she didn’t. The person he needs right now, the person who could help him prevent another bloodshed, inhabits his memories as the ghost of a gentle child who offered him friendship when life was easier and Fairies and Giants were allies. Even though he has seen her later, again and again, on too many battlefields, the first image that comes to his mind when he thinks of her is from their past.

Eyes shining in the light of dusk, a finger raised to make a vow.

“We will be friends forever! Like Drole and Gloxinia!”

Warmth tinges his cheeks with red as he raises his finger too.

“We will. I promise!”

He is rewarded with a bright smile that outshines the sun itself.

The smile on Harlequin’s face is now bitter. It didn’t last long, their promise - the promise of two kids from two different clans that thought that war could never harm them. After all, Gloxinia used to tell him that the Fairies and the Giants had been close for centuries, that their bond would have never faded. He also used to smile and tell him not to worry about him when he left for a battle because he was the king of the Fairies and he would have always come back to his people.

Gloxinia had been wrong about many things.

They had died together, he and Drole, the king of Giants, during a battle so dreadful that Fairies and Goddesses still refused to talk about it. They had died and they had left their Clans in chaos, one lost without a guide and the other thrown in the hands of a young Fairy with too little knowledge of the world outside his forest. As new Fairy King, Harlequin had chosen to remain loyal to the Stigma and the Fairies had followed him, while the Giants had forged a new alliance, one with the monster who was able to defeat their king in combat. The Demon King himself. It was usual for the Giants to follow the strongest, but this didn’t make their betrayal less hurtful.

Harlequin had come to terms with it years before, but he had been unable to forget about his promise to the young Giant girl who had been his best friend when their Clans were allies and he was nothing more than a simple Fairy Gloxinia had taken under his wing. When he saw her again, after years of training and clashes, she was a warrior under the direct command of Matrona, and she danced ballets of death and destruction.

He could never bring himself to face her. He focused on other enemies, turning his back on her, hoping that she would do the same. Even though they had been enemies way longer than they had been friends, he couldn’t help but fear the day he would have found her dead body on the battlefield. She was a tie to a past he missed terribly, a tie he simply didn’t want to cut because once gone, it would have been lost forever.

Until now, she survived, and there is a part of him that refuses to give up just yet. It takes effort to use his magic after he used so much for the battle, but he grits his teeth and flies faster, trying to detect any sign of her power. Even a crumble would be enough, to at least tell him that she lives.

Long minutes later, as he flies over a small crater that seems to brim with corpses, he halts in mid-air; it wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t known what to look for, but there is a presence - distant, feeble, like a spark among ashes. Harlequin turns his head towards the wood that skirts the battlefield at North. It hasn’t been spared by the battle, not completely, but many trees are still standing. It wouldn’t be a bad place to hide.

After ensuring that no one is watching him, Harlequin flies lower, swerving among the debris, and fastly approaches the wood, following the trace of magic. It becomes stronger as he enters the tree lines, and with it, his heart pounds faster and his bowels knot. That’s when the traces of blood appear, with the obvious signs of someone passing among these branches, breaking the frail wood. From there, it’s not hard to find her.

When he finally sees her, she is lying with her back against a tree, the broken handle of a war hammer in her hand. Her eyes are on him as soon as he emerges from the branches, studying him from under dirty brown hair. Her expression hardens, but she stays still, waiting for him to reach her.

It’s not that bad, he thinks as he examines her injuries while slowly flying towards her. Her left leg seems to be broken and her face is scratched and swollen, and fresh blood soaks her clothes coming from dozens of cuts on her arms and shoulders, but she is a Giant and he saw Giants survive way worse than this. The thought doesn’t stop his heart from sinking in his gut. He can’t leave her like this.

He halts mere feet from her, distant enough not to make her feel threatened - or so he hopes - but close enough to speak with her. But as her violet eyes bury into his soul, he finds himself at a loss of words. Here is the child who used to play tag with him, who smiled when he gave her flowers and danced with him in the bright days of summer. Here is the child who told him she loathed violence so much she would have rather abandoned her own Clan than fight this war. The child who would have wanted to use her dance to build, rather than to destroy. He would have liked to live in a world where her wish had come true.

“Have you come to finish me?”

Her voice, weak but firm, feels cold as ice on his skin. His expression doesn’t change, though - he has been practising his self-control for too long to let it slip, how deep her words wound him.

Not once in the past years, when they saw each other on the battlefield, she has shown a sign of recognizing her childhood friend, and still now that they are finally facing each other, her expression is a mask of stone and mistrust. Has she really forgotten about him? Does she truly believe he would go after her just to kill her?

“I haven’t,” he hurries to answer as he lifts his hand; when the green light of Pollen Garden surrounds her, the Giant hisses and pulls back, pressing her back against the trunk, then freezes and watches with wide eyes as the luminescent pollen rains over her, closing her wounds and welding her bones. When she returns her gaze on him, it’s filled with wonder and confusion.

“The Goddesses are chasing the warriors who fled the battlefield,” Harlequin says, “but they won’t attack the Giants who didn’t participate, not today.” With another movement of his hand, his Spirit Spear disappears. “You should be able to come back to your home before them. Matrona is dead, but you were her second in command. They will follow you, and you have to take them away. Leave Megadozer and hide somewhere until the Goddesses and the Humans’ bloodthirst has quenched. This war lasted far too long and too many have been hurt. Even though I don’t think they all are willing to harm civilians, the situation could easily escalate, and I doubt that I … that anyone would be able to stop it.”

Her eyes darken but she nods. She knows as well they won’t make it easy for the Giants. Slowly, she stands, until her face is at the same level as his, her stare fixed on him. There’s a part of Harlequin that is tempted to use his heart reading powers to know what she is thinking now, but as usual, he suppresses it. Heart reading is as natural as breathing for him and helped him so many times, but it can be a double-edged sword. Besides, they aren’t fighting - it would be rude .

“Why are you doing this?”

He should expect her next question, but it still floors him, leaving him silent and still as he thinks about the right words to use.

“The Giants betrayed you,” she insists. “We killed so many among the Fairies. And yet you are here, helping me, giving me the chance to help my people. I want to know why.”

He hesitates another moment before speaking, staring back into her eyes. “I have never wanted to see the Giants annihilated, and I’m tired of slaughters. Our Clans hurt each other enough and you don’t pose a threat for us anymore. I hope that under your guidance, the Giants will follow a new path, one that will allow them to coexist with the other Clans again, once the wounds this war left will start to heal.”

“My guidance? Have you seen me?” He is taken aback by the bitterness in her voice. “There is so much blood on my hands. I’m no more than a murder, Fairy King. What makes you think that I will make the Giant follow the path of peace?”

“Because you never wanted this.” The words slip from his mouth before he can stop them, and they are met by shock flourishing on her face. With a sigh, Harlequin continues, folding his hands in front of him not to move them nervously. “You don’t take pleasure from fighting and killing, nor you have reasons to continue this war. We all have done what we had to, Diane, and we all will answer to the consequences by ourselves. But I believe that now that you have the chance to do what’s right, you will take it.”

She gasps at the mention of her name and watches him in awe. He expects her to question him now, to yell at him to get out of her head, as they all do when they think he is reading their hearts. But again, she surprises him. “You … you remember me,” she whispers, covering her mouth with a hand. “Don’t you, Harlequin?”

Breath stops in his throat. “I - of course I do, how could have I forgotten? You were my best friend.” He swallows, his hands clenching around each other. “I thought you didn’t remember me.”

“I thought you didn’t remember me!” She shakes her head, “I spent years stuck in Megadozer, training for the war, hoping that when they’d let me out, I could at least see you again. But the first time I met you on the battlefield, you didn’t even look at me. You never even tried to talk to me.”

“I kept my distance because I didn’t want us to be forced to fight. I couldn’t have brought myself to hurt you,” he admits.

“I couldn’t have either, I wouldn’t have. I thought you didn’t recognize me - or you simply didn’t remember me.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, “You didn’t say anything either. I thought it had simply been too long since we were friends. Besides, I ... changed quite a bit, since then.”

Diane raises a brown, examining him. “You’ll have to do way more than growing a pair of wings for me not to recognize you.”

Harlequin can’t stop an astounded laugh, “Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” she snorts. “Though … I didn’t expect the hair.” For the first time since forever, he sees her lips curve into a smile. It’s surprising, how much he missed it. “No,” she continues, shaking her head, “I was afraid of what would have happened if I had confronted you. It’s not just your appearance, your entire attitude changed since we were kids. I thought that even if I had reminded you about our friendship, I couldn’t be sure about your reaction. You could have not cared about it anyway.”

“Diane, I’m so sorry. If I had known, I …” Truth to be told, he isn’t sure what he would have done. Reconnected with her? While they were on the opposite sides of a war? There was no way it would have worked smoothly.

“I’m sorry too,” she says softly, “I’ve missed you.”

A shiver travels through his body. “And I, you.” There is so much he would want to ask, so much he would want to tell her. She is Diane, his best friend, yet she has changed so much and he thinks he would want to know better the person she became. But there is no time. The sun is going to set soon. “If you want to go home, you should go now,” he says quietly, “Before someone finds us.”

She heaves a sigh and nods, looking down. “I know,” she says as sadness obscures the light in her eyes. “They’ll be waiting for news.”

As are the Fairies he left in the safety of the Fairy King’s Forest. Harlequin will have to do the same himself, later; he will have to look at his people and tell them about the losses they suffered today. There have been so many battles in this bloody war, but this part never got easier. “I’m sorry,” he says again, even though he isn’t sure what he is apologizing for. “If things were different, I’d want you to come with me. I would be able to keep you safe in the Fairy Realm, not even the Supreme Deity can come there without my permission. But …”

“I can’t leave the others behind,” Diane finishes, shaking her head. “I’ll find a way to keep everyone safe. Thank you, Harlequin. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for this.”

“I do.”

Her stunned expression would be funny if it wasn’t for the way her body tenses and her hand clenches around the remains of her hammer. A few minutes of reconciliation can’t cancel years of war, he bitterly thinks as he hurries to explain, “I want things to change between our Clans. I know it will be difficult and things will probably never be like they were before, but I want us to stop fighting and to be on good terms, at least. And I hope you can help me with this.”

It takes her some moments to answer. “I’d like that, too,” she admits. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to change their minds. Giants are raised to be warriors, and fighting for our honour is supposed to be our reason to live. Some will want revenge. But … I’ll try to - I'll find a way. I won’t let them throw their lives away like this and I won’t let them stain their hands with blood”. Something new shines in her eyes when she looks at him, “I promise.”

“Thank you,” he answers, letting a relieved smile curve his lips. “And I promise you that I’ll do the same. No harm will come to you from my people, as long as I breathe.”

This is so different from the promise they made each other so long ago - for once, they do not seal it with their pinkies - yet he can’t help but feel a little bit nostalgic; there is something in Diane’s expression that makes him believe she feels it too. There is no time to evoke images of a past long gone, though, and so she nods and moves away, her walk as swift as before the battle.

Before she disappears between the trees, she turns around one last time to look at him. It’s hard to read the mix of emotion in her eyes, but despite the curiosity, Harlequin avoids reading her heart. He smiles, instead. And she smiles back, just for a moment.

Then, she is gone.

When Harlequin comes back to the battlefield, his Fairies have been gathered and are working on finding a way to bring the bodies of their fallen back home. Humans are going back to their settlement, and in the distance, he sees a few Goddesses preparing to return to the Celestial Realm. The air is still filled with anguish and mourning, but something else smoulders in the hearts of the survivors, a sense of excitement that Harlequin knows will rise to the surface tonight, when celebrations will be held all around Britannia. If just for a few hours, people will try to forget about what the future holds for them, to finally allow themselves to live free of the shadow of the war.

As he lands among the Fairies, as he solemnly nods to their tired bows, Harlequin wonders when he will be able to do the same. For others, the war is over, but he knows his allies too well to think the peace after this war will be easy. If Diane manages to hide her people away, Ludociel won’t be happy, nor will the human kings. They will want answers and will search the entire country for them.

But there is something that makes the morrow look a little bit easier; it’s the promise of a different future, the seed of an agreement he just planted alongside with a Giant girl.

So Harlequin holds his head up and breathes in deeply, feeling like part of the weight on his shoulders has been finally lifted; then, he gets ready to lead his people home.

[stufftippywrote]

consequences

@notenoughgatorade prompted me with #33 from this list! I’m still taking prompts!

Set in CQL/TV The Untamed universe.

The urge is just too unbearable. And today is a ridiculously good day, the sky bright and the breeze crisp, and Wei Wuxian's in a sunny mood. He's about to run off with the juniors to Caiyi Town for lunch, leaving Lan Zhan to tend to his own matters for a while. Nothing he hasn't done before, nothing he won't do again. And the urge is nothing new, either. Lan Zhan stands at the screen door to see him off, and every time, Wei Wuxian feels the persistent and annoying need to peck him on the lips before he goes.

It's just an odd urge that occurs to him once in a while. Who knows why.

And today his heart is humming and he feels like nothing can go wrong. So just as he's saying his goodbyes, promising to be back before sundown and all, he suddenly darts in and presses a quick kiss to Lan Zhan's mouth. "Behave," he says. "I'm going now."

And he walks casually out of the doorway and through the courtyard and away. Like nothing happened.

But now that he’s done it, his pulse is jumping and he’s terrified of the consequences. The moment he is out of Lan Zhan's immediate line of sight, he ducks behind a tree and peeks back toward the jingshi.

Lan Zhan's hand is on his mouth. His eyes are blown open wide. He's standing stock still.

Oh, no. He’s made a huge mistake, hasn’t he?

Well, nothing for it now. He'll just have to apologize when he gets back. He doubts Lan Zhan will kick him out or anything for the imposition -- they've been living comfortably in the same building for a month since Wei Wuxian returned from his travels.

He goes to collect the juniors and set out for lunch and inevitable shenanigans. They'll keep his mind off it.

--

It's midafternoon when they return. Wei Wuxian has successfully distracted himself via spicy food and animated conversations among the juniors. He's rather proud of Sizhui and Jingyi, who spent the majority of their walk back arguing over whether a talisman should include a certain stroke or not (Sizhui thought it was reckless; Jingyi said that's the only way it's effective). Others talked about the girls they saw in town; one shyly confessed to having a crush on one of the female disciples, and was roundly teased for it. All in all, Wei Wuxian was able to keep his mind off his reckless action this morning. Mostly.

That all fades the moment they passed through the gate to Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian is suddenly terribly nervous.

What will Lan Zhan say? he wonders. What will he do? Will I get a scolding? Or maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe he's already forgotten all about it. That's meant to be a comfort, but it isn't -- partly because Wei Wuxian doubts it's true, and partly because a piece of him doesn't want Lan Zhan to forget about it.

Which is odd, it was a mistake, Lan Zhan usually lets his mistakes go, why should Wei Wuxian want him to remember it?

He sneaks back behind the same tree where he hid before, peers through the brush at the jingshi.

Lan Zhan is still standing at the door. His hand is still on his mouth. It looks like he hasn't moved a muscle the whole time Wei Wuxian was gone.

Looks like he hasn't forgotten about it at all.

Wei Wuxian pauses in trepidation outside the gate to the courtyard and summons up all his cheerfulness, pasting a big smile on his face. Maybe he can talk his way out of this.

"Lan Zhan!" he calls with a big wave as he enters. "You missed a fun trip! I hope what you were doing wasn't too boring, but who am I kidding, it was probably boring." He saunters up the steps to the Jingshi. "It's hard to believe how much A-Yuan has grown in the months I've been away. I've mentioned it before, but today--"

An arm blocks his way. Lan Zhan is blocking his access to the Jingshi. His jaw is clenched.

Shit.

Wei Wuxian summons up his boldness and puts a hand on that outstretched arm. "Lan Zhan. Don't tell me you are still hung up on that little joke I played on you this morning. It was just for fun! I didn't mean anything by it."

Lan Zhan lowers his arm slowly. His eyes narrow. "It was a joke?" he asks, as though he hadn't even pondered the possibility.

"Well, what else could it be? No, you know what, don't answer that question, it's too embarrassing. Anyway, tell me about your afternoon--"

"Don't do it," Lan Zhan says, a trace of coldness in his voice, "if you don't mean anything by it."

There's some implication there that Wei Wuxian is scared to examine. He saunters into the room and stretches, extending his arms as wide as he can. "That reminds me of something you told me a long time ago. In the cave. You were so upset about my flirting, do you remember? I said at the time you probably liked Mianmian. You got so angry." Why is he still talking about this? He has the vague feeling he's making things worse.

"I didn't," Lan Zhan says. "Like her."

"It's all ancient history anyway," Wei Wuxian says, sitting down. "Who cares who you liked? We were kids. Do we have fresh tea? The spicy peppers are still sticking with me. I'm afraid I may have some bad breath. You probably don't want to come near me."

And Lan Zhan certainly doesn't seem eager to come near. He's still standing at the doorway, watching Wei Wuxian with some interest. "I'll get tea," he says, and descends down the steps and away.

With him goes an ominous atmosphere; the air feels visibly lighter when he's out of the courtyard. Wei Wuxian sighs. What was that reaction about? Lan Zhan wasn't angry; neither has he forgotten it. More than that, what about Wei Wuxian's own reaction? Why does he care so much, anyway?

He leans back and folds his arms behind his head, looking up at the ceiling.

It was just this odd urge he felt once in a while. Now that he's done it, that should be the end, right? But there's something unresolved in all this. Something unsettling. Like this isn't, or shouldn't be, the last time.

That's the issue, isn't it? Wei Wuxian wants to do it again.

I want to kiss Lan Zhan.

He thinks the words methodically, one at a time, then tries them out loud. They sound less absurd than he'd expected. But he doesn't have those tendencies, does he? Granted, if he did, Lan Zhan would definitely be the guy he'd go for. He's handsome and genteel and, more than that, sweet and affectionate in the moments Wei Wuxian steals for himself, the ones no one else gets to see. There are times when he looks at Wei Wuxian and it makes him melt inside. Nobody else has ever looked at him like that.

Lan Zhan looks at him like that. Like he’s the only person in the world.

And Wei Wuxian wants to kiss him.

Oh.

The realization knocks the wind out of him. He has to remind himself to start breathing again.

It's an eternity until Lan Zhan returns with the tea. He's expressionless as he pours one cup for Wei Wuxian, one for himself, then sits neatly at the table across from him.

Wei Wuxian stares at him without saying a word. Now that he knows, he wants. The line of Lan Zhan's jaw, the broadness of his shoulders, the feel of him in the room. The curve of his hands around the teacup. Everything about him is staggeringly beautiful. Wei Wuxian has to wonder why it took himself so long to come to this epiphany. Who wouldn't fall in love with this man? He's everything anyone could ever want.

He's everything Wei Wuxian wants. He always has been.

"Will you drink?" Lan Zhan asks, breaking the silence.

"Ah-- of-- of course." Wei Wuxian forces a short laugh. "I got distracted."

Even so, Lan Zhan doesn't let him take more than a sip. "Wei Ying."

"Y-yes."

"Please ... think of the consequences of your actions." Lan Zhan's brow is furrowed, and his gaze is downward, as though he's unsure of what he's saying.

Wei Wuxian sighs. "You say that, Lan Zhan, but how am I to know what those consequences are? A talking-to and then we get tea? I'm thinking if I did it tomorrow, that wouldn't be your only response." Lan Zhan's eyes widen in sudden panic.

Wei Wuxian waves him down. "I won't do it tomorrow, don't worry." He tries to keep the smile off his face, but it's hard.

"Oh." Lan Zhan's gaze wavers. "Then there's no need to discuss it."

"I think there is a need," Wei Wuxian says, and he scoots himself around the table to take a seat next to Lan Zhan. "I think you really need to make clear what the consequences are of doing it again. In fact, I think it's so important, I'm willing to do it again just to find out."

The panic returns to Lan Zhan's eyes. "Wei Ying..."

Wei Wuxian leans forward. "Go on, then," he says, "show me what my punishment is." And he closes the gap between them and kisses Lan Zhan's soft lips. A little longer this time. Just a second or two, then over, and Wei Wuxian smiles. "What are you going to do to me?"

Lan Zhan grabs the back of his head and pulls him back in.

--

It's two hours later, and the sun is fast disappearing beyond the horizon. The rays shine slanted on the bed, and a golden sheen appears on Lan Zhan's bare side. Wei Wuxian touches his skin with two fingers, strokes. Lan Zhan murmurs approval.

"Why didn't we do this a long time ago?" Wei Wuxian wonders aloud.

"Many reasons." Lan Zhan says, touching Wei Wuxian's face with a gentle hand. "Mostly, I didn't know how you felt."

"That makes two of us," Wei Wuxian says ruefully. "I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it."

"It's fine." Lan Zhan's traces the shape of Wei Wuxian's lips with a finger. Simple, light contact, but Wei Wuxian can't resist trying to purse his lips and press kisses to that earnest fingertip. "Don't say sorry."

"Well, I have to say something." Wei Wuxian thinks for a moment. "How about this?" And he whispers something soft and low that makes Lan Zhan look at him with those wonderful, shining eyes.

"And," he adds, "I'm absolutely doing this again tomorrow. Now that I know the consequences."

Lan Zhan kisses him. "Please do."

[sopewriters]

Mιɳԃ Gαɱҽʂ | 01

Summary: With a murderer prowling the streets, and a charming villain on the loose, all bets are off.

Pairing: Jaehhyun X Reader; Hero x Villain AU

Word Count: 4.9K

Warning(s): None yet.

“Run the tape again.”

The screen flickers dimly, lighting up your gaunt features. Every part of you screams of exhaustion, as it should – you’ve hardly gotten any sleep all night. Your fingers tap against the desk in front of you, restless, and it takes everything in you not to bounce your leg.

The man beside you – your partner – looks at your tense jaw, pursed lips, and frowns. “You can take a break for tonight, you know. I doubt they’ll come back so soon.”

“But you don’t know that.” You correct harshly, making him recoil. Guilt stabs at you, and you sigh. “Sorry, I… I’m sorry Mark, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

Mark smiles at you, and you only now notice the pallor of his cheeks, the shadows under his eyes. Your partner hasn’t gotten anymore sleep than you have. With a large, cracking yawn that could probably split a lesser man’s face open, you shake your head.

The protest – or lack, thereof – building on Mark’s lips immediately dies, and he exhales heavily.

“This guy is unreal.” He comments, dropping back into his seat beside you. “How does he avoid the cameras so well? They were even set up so no one would be able to dodge them – is this his Gift, do you think?”

You cast a wry glance at him, then. “No, Mark, we both know for a fact that his Gift isn’t invisibility. Remember the one time he made some sort of illusion to throw the cops off his trail?”

“Ah, right.” Something like awe passes quickly over his face, though he’s careful to school his expression at your chiding glance. “I forgot.”

“Funny, you were gushing about how wicked Joker was for weeks.” You nudge him lightly, a tiny grin on your lips – probably for the first time tonight. “It was cute.”

His cheeks immediately flush – adorable – and you wish there were better lighting so you could see them better.

Unfortunately, being a superpowered vigilante can really cast a wrench in your budget. Not everyone can be a millionaire-cum-superhero, no matter how much they’d love to be. And balancing the criminal nightlife with your actual life… well. University has always been particularly unforgiving.

“______…” He grouses, burying his face in his palms as you laugh. “Why’re you always so mean to me?”

“You just make it really easy.”

“ ______!”

“What? Am I wrong?”

Mark huffs out a breath, pushing away from the desk and standing up to flick on the light. “I’m not even gonna bother. I know you aren’t going to drop it!”

“You’re – oh my fucking god, turn the lights back off!” The measly light you do have is still blinding, making your head almost ache from how bright they are. “Mark!”

“Oh, how the tables have turned.” He laughs, dodging one of your well-timed swipes. “Alright, I’m going to jet before you actually manage to hit me again. Please try and get some rest? We’ll go over this again tomorrow.”

He looks at you imploringly.

You laugh fakely. “Oh, yeah, of course!”

Mark sighs, resigned, and gives you a waning smile as he moves to leave. He pauses, briefly. “We should really find a new HQ.”

You look around at your converted closet, thinking he’s not wrong. But, again, life isn’t quite like the movies and you don’t really have the money to spare on much beyond your daily necessities. Frozen food isn’t quite as cheap as it used to be around these parts. If anything, you’re lucky you have a walk-in closet large enough to accommodate a small desk, especially in your dorm.

Going to an expensive college in a rich part of town does have some benefits even if, tuition aside, you’re financially on your own.

“We’ll see,” you mumble tiredly, head thumping softly against said desk. “You know how tight our budget is.”

“Yeah, I do.” Mark looks apologetic, giving you a quick wave before he’s stepping out, likely heading back to his own room.

Now that he’s gone, though, your place is entirely too quiet, and it really puts you on edge. At least Mark turned the light on, earlier – you might as well credit him for that – so it’s not as creepy as it could be. But still.

You turn back to the monitor, mouth pursing into a frown as you watch the slight flicker of shadows – the criminal’s only trail. Something about this guy doesn’t seem all that right, and it’s seriously making you paranoid. You’ve never interacted with him, though – that, as it seems, only really happens to the licensed superheroes in your sector – but there’s just something about him…

You turn off the monitor with a sigh, wondering why on earth you’ve stupidly chosen to deal with this guy, of all people. You ignore the little niggling in the back of your mind that tells you that you’re really just trying to put off real-life responsibilities by taking unnecessary tasks upon yourself; that’s totally not true, no. What – why would anyone think that?!

You duck your head out of your closet, tentatively stepping out into your actual room. There isn’t much in there; just your bed, a cabinet for your papers and files, and a dresser in which your clothes actually go. Most of the place is just free space, honestly, and you could have your whole hero setup here, but… secrecy is important. And your closet is a lot more private than your room itself, for obvious reasons.

“ ______ !!” The door slams open, and your enraged best friend storms inside.

Case in point.

“Hey, F/N…” You say awkwardly, leaning against your bed so you can look at her fuming face. “Um. Fancy seeing you here?”

“Why aren’t you in bed?” She pinches the bridge of her nose, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips. “It’s almost midnight!”

“Why aren’t you asleep?” You counter, eyes catching onto her mussed hair, puffy eyes. “I was so quiet; how could I possibly have—?”

“Mark.” She says simply, to which you inwardly groan. Of course. Mark “Clumsy” Lee lives up to his name, yet again. “Are you sure you two aren’t dating? He’s been over for whole nights before.”

“What, are girls and guys not allowed to spend the night without dating or screwing around?” You snap defensively. Too defensively, judging by the smirk forming on her face. “No. No, no, no. Whatever bullshit you’re going to spew at me right now, save it, because I sure as hell won’t like it.”

“I’m just saying, denial isn’t just a river in Egypt,” she sings, ducking to narrowly avoid a pillow projectile. “It’s not a big deal! Mark’s super cute.”

“And you can have him.” You mutter in response, shuddering at the thought of dating him. Being in close quarters has really educated you to some of his more… quirky habits, and you couldn’t ever deal with that on a permanent basis. Plus, he’s not really your type.

F/N just rolls her eyes at you. “Whatever, pretend all you want. I know the truth though.”

“Is there something you actually need?” You level her with a flat stare. “Or are you just trying to snoop in on me?”

She smiles guiltily, like the guilty person she is. It might as well be branded on her forehead, G-U-I-L-T-Y, and you really hope she trips over one of her stupid pencils and stumbles down to hell.

What? You can be petty if you want to be, and it’s all in your head anyway. No one will ever know.

“No, there’s nothing important.” She assures you, though you really don’t need her assurance. “I just… worry about you sometimes, you know?”

“Well gee, thanks for making my night a whole lot better with that vote of confidence.” You mutter, sarcastic as ever, though your subsequent words die on your tongue at her sharp look.

“Relax, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to know if you were going to go to bed, or if you couldn’t sleep or something.” She shrugs. “I’m being rebellious and staying up past my bedtime.”

Well.

You grin sharply at that. Maybe she can stay in the land of the living for a little longer. You take back everything you thought just a few moments ago. “Oh, have I been waiting for this day.”

So. Staying up last night was possibly the worst decision you’ve ever made. Your eyes feel like they might just pop out of their sockets any moment now and the only thing that could possibly make this better is a good cup of coffee. Or, even better, two.

But life, as always, is cruel.

“I hate you.” You mutter at your coffee pot, squinting angrily at it through stinging eyes. “You had one fucking job.”

Yep. The coffee pot, as fate would have it, has completely broken down – just to deprive you of your life, of course, no big deal. Who even needs to be awake for their 8AM discussion anyway, right?

“Stupid, useless hunk of garbage, I should just melt you down already.” Your fevered death chant follows you all the way to the front door as you sling your backpack over your shoulder. It stops there, though, because you’re too tired to keep it up.

F/N’s lucky she doesn’t have to wake up early today, and you angrily curse her in your head because goodwill? It’s all gone now. Maybe she’ll get a really bad case of the Hiccups. Maybe it’ll be terminal Hiccups.

You cringe at your own deviousness.

You manage to bike all the way to class without perishing which, in your books, deserves a gold star. You don’t know how you’ve done it, but you’ve somehow managed to not get hit by a car, or a bus, or a truck, or another bike, or a pedestrian (though you wouldn’t really mind that last option. People really need to stop looking at their phones while they walk, holy shit). It’s a miracle, truly.

Maybe it’s because you’ve got to attend a Classics discussion; shockingly, it’s one of your more bearable classes. Scratch that, it’s possibly one of your favorites. You might be a STEM major, but the way they discuss mythology in this class really gets to you.

And, of course, there’s your TA too. He’s probably one of the kindest, sweetest people you know – and that’s saying something, given that you know Mark and are even acquainted with Wong Yukhei, the Student Council VP. No, you don’t know how that happened and, frankly, don’t care to find out either.

“Hey there, ______.” You look up at the sound of your name, seeing your TA cock his head at you a little quizzically. “You okay? You seem a little out of breath.”

Yeah, it’s no big, I practically just pulled an all-nighter and biked all the way here using the mothballs that are my eyes, with the level of coffee running through my bloodstream hitting a critical low. It’s fine, it’s totally fine! And if you weren’t the unobservant piece of crap, sweetheart you are, I’d feel a hell of a lot better—

“I’m fine.” You make an effort not to let your gasps for air grow too obvious, giving him a strained smile. “I just, um – just biked here.”

“Ah, I see. You can come inside, you know, sit down.” He holds the door wide open for you, letting you slip inside. “Do you have water? Would you like me to get you some?”

He gives you an appraising look. “Though, something tells me you need something stronger? Coffee, maybe?”

He holds up a thermos, shaking it gently with a questioning look on his face; and, on cue, your mouth begins to water. You need it. You must have it.

“What gave it away?” You chuckle weakly, before shaking your head. “No thanks, Jungwoo, but I appreciate it.”

You last remaining braincells cry, extremely sorry for your loss.

Jungwoo sighs, “I don’t mind sharing, ______, trust me. I promise I didn’t poison it or anything, and I won’t give you much – just a tiny cup.”

He pours some out into the cap of his flask, offering it to you. You stare at the beautifully crafted drink of perfection, steam gently curling off it, and wonder if Kim Jungwoo is a god. He must be, with this sort of impeccable timing.

Still, you’d feel a little awkward taking a drink from a TA that you actually don’t know all that well. That… might not be a good idea.

“I’m really fine.” You smile tightly at him. “I promise. Thank you, though.”

But why?! your brain cells demand, and you don’t have a satisfactory answer for them.

“If you’re sure.” He shrugs it off easily, smile never dimming. He’s pretty cute when he smiles – basically, all the time – but he isn’t really your type.

You think back to the crush you used to harbor on Yukhei. Your cheeks burn when you remember that you still find your gaze fixed to his long, slender fingers on more than one occasion – but you can’t help that. He’s just… too much. It’s unfair, really. But yeah, that’s your type. Tall and handsome, and unfair.

Great, and now you’re thinking about Jung Jaehyun.

You settle back into your desk and will your blush away as you begin pulling out a notebook and a pencil. You don’t usually take notes during section – not unless you’ve got some big essay coming up that he’d review in class – but it gives you something to do instead of just sitting idle.

You quickly sneak a peek at Jungwoo and, seeing that he’s preoccupied leafing through some of his notes, play a game of Catch the Pen. You locate the nearest shadow and guide your pencil through it, propelling it with enough of a velocity for it to hurtle out of another shadow to nestle comfortably between your fingers. It’s basically like playing catch with yourself.

And yeah, it got boring after the third or fourth time, but your only other option is using your phone, which – hey, not a bad idea. A quick scroll through your social media has you holding back your coos when you see videos of cute puppies attempting to do even cuter things. God, do you love dogs.

It’s only when Jungwoo raps his fist against his desk – a cue for all of you to start paying attention – that you notice that the empty desks from before have all been filled up. You quickly stash your phone in your back pocket, before leaning forward on your desk, settling your cheek in the palm of your hand as you force yourself to pay attention.

Ah, damn it. Your eyes still sting.

“Good morning guys!” Jungwoo beams at you, entirely too cheery for your tastes, given that it’s eight in the fucking morning. “How were your weekends?”

Your mind flashes back to your weekend, and you suppress a wince. Yeah. That was… not a good time, especially for the vigilante Caligo – for you. After getting your ass pummeled by a random guy in a mask – a random guy who you think just might be Joker, thief extraordinaire, and the person who you were watching through the footage last night – you weren’t really having a great time.

Not to mention your purpled cheek, courtesy of a deck to the face. You bruise like a peach and you’re really fucking lucky that F/N has a healing ability and a penchant to not ask difficult questions. She probably thinks you’re getting caught up in some shady business – drugs, maybe? – and honestly, that wouldn’t be too far from the truth, if a little exaggerated.

Jungwoo, luckily, takes the grumbled mutterings from the rest of your class that perfectly encapsulate your weekend experience in stride, beaming excitedly and holding up a faded copy of the translation of Ovid’s The Fall of Icarus. “Well, nothing better than this to turn that around, yeah?”

You hold back a sigh as you flip to the page he’ll inevitably bring up. You’d rather read about Icarus, who the book’s title deceptively alludes to, than the rest of these short stories. But, well. As life would have it—

“Let’s talk about what happened with Theseus and the Minotaur, shall we?”

A part of you is grateful that you’ve managed to survive most of your day, and it’s really only the thought of going to your chem lab that makes you perk up.

Now, don’t be misled; you still hate having to go to lab. The actual practice, in itself, isn’t all that hard, but the fact that you have to do it at all is just so ugh. Frankly, you’re only going because it’s required for your major, because fuck chemistry, and doubly fuck organic chemistry. It’s all just way too stressful.

But, well, back to the main point: lab is only really fun because you get a whole two and a half hours to fully appreciate some A+ eye-candy. Not that you would ever actually want to objectify him that way, but your TA is just so gorgeous that it’s unfair, really. Just a smile from him could have you tripping over your feet and potentially spilling dangerous chemicals all over yourself.

As it is, you’ve managed to survive so far, if only to irritate F/N with your very accurate description of how sharp his jawline is, how his dimple is to die for, how he just looks so dependable and warm and—

“Hey Jaehyun.” You greet him as you wait outside the lab. No one’s really allowed in until your TA – Jaehyun, basically – lets you.

Jung Jaehyun, AKA “God who has literally descended from the Heavens to bless your undeserving soul”, smiles at you and – aw, yeah, there it is. That fucking dimple. Paired with his soft, unassuming smile, and the reassuring warmth of his eyes as they look at you through the soft fringe of his hair—

Deadly. That’s what he is.

“Hey ______, how’s it going?” He greets cheerily, not unlike Jungwoo earlier. The only difference is that it’s actually a humane hour of the day right now; a little past noon as opposed to oh, you know, the crack of dawn. You still hate any and all sunlight, no doubt about it – especially with the night lending itself to your element – but at least you’re somewhat awake now.

Jaehyun fiddles with the keyhole before pushing the door open. Is a lab coat supposed to look this good on a person? You aren’t sure.

“It’s pretty meh.” You offer him a shrug and what you hope is not a dorky smile. “Just stressed, you know.”

“Oh, I figured.” He nods, raising an eyebrow. “Apparently Professor Kim’s being super hard on you guys for this first midterm and, I won’t lie, with her past record…” Jaehyun winces. “Yeah, things might be a little stressful. But you’re capable, and I know you can do it with the right amount of hard work and effort.”

Then, like he hasn’t just sprung an unwarranted pep talk on what’s left of your dreary soul, he disappears behind the door. You stare at it like it’ll give you the answers racing through your mind; what the fuck, how the hell does he know exactly what to say, how the fuck is he always so gorgeous…? etcetera, etcetera.

Immediately, you pull out your phone and text F/N.

 You:

Oh my fucking god, I think Jaehyun and I just had a moment

Not like a Moment but he literally just gave me the best pep talk in my life, 5 stars on yelp

Jaehyun’s my TA btw

 Checking the time, you impatiently rock forward on the balls of your feet, biting at your lips. You figure that, maybe, instead of constantly thinking about how gorgeous Jaehyun is, you should probably also start thinking about the experiment for today. It’s just some simple identification tests, thank goodness, but those could take a long time – especially if you have to share your resources with the rest of the class.

Sharing is caring, they say and they’re wrong. Sharing, in most cases, is essentially just shooting yourself in the foot, and you’ll stand by that until the end of time. You used to share everything – even your heart – after all, and where did that get you?

You shove all of that away, filing it into the mental Untouchable cabinet and locking it up. You’re a busy person now, and you can’t waste time delving into the past. For all your bravado and bluster, though, you just… sometimes feel like you always make the worst decisions for yourself and you’re just tired of having to put yourself through the same things again and again. Like – like clockwork.

The door cracks open, and Jaehyun pokes his head outside. “Huh, that’s weird. No one else is here yet?”

A quick glance around you shows you that no, there really isn’t anyone else here yet. What the fuck? You check your phone, though, and see you still have ten minutes before lab actually begins. Ah, yeah, that makes a lot more sense now.

“You can come in anyway.” Jaehyun grins at you charmingly, and you dimly wonder if he knows the effect he has on people, with how easily he throws that smile around. “Maybe get set up? You can’t start before the rest of your class is here, obviously, but you can still be prepared.”

“Of course!” You beam at him, a little shocked at how easy it is to smile at him. With how things have been going, with both your personal life and – ehem – line of work, this is actually nothing short of a miracle.

Jaehyun really is a great guy and you think to yourself, a little sadly, that whoever gets to date him is a really lucky person. It’s not like you expect for life to work out like a fairytale with you as the persevering royal protagonist who gets the prince she’s only ever dreamed of.

Oh, you wish though. Sometimes, you even wish you had the power to make wishes come true instead of the shadow manipulation that comes so easily to you. When you think about it, you immediately discard the thought; you’re happy with your Gift, though it does get a little tricky navigating its faults.

Faults that Joker took advantage of over the weekend, obviously. You seriously screwed that one up though, to be fair, you kind of had to get home pronto to finish up your biology lab report. Still, a screw up is, ultimately, a screw up. It’s not going to change just because you slapped some excuses onto it.

Your fingers spasm, clenching tightly around your lab notebook and digging into its spiral binding as you remember, all too vividly, what happened over the weekend; the way Joker just slid out of your bindings and smirked at you, lips brushing against your ear as he revealed it was all a lie—

The spiking pain in your hand forces you to let go of your book, allowing it to drop onto the table with a muffled thump. It was all your fault, really, for not realizing that, since Joker had a Gift that allowed him to make illusions, he would obviously take advantage of it to distract you.

You were such a fucking idiot.

“Hey.” Your lab partner slides into the seat beside yours, effectively distracting you from thinking about your Weekend Failure some more. “Please tell me that I’m not the only one who thinks that the data for this lab report was ridiculous.”

“You’re not.” A light smile pulls at your lips and you try to forget about everything else. “It was pretty crazy.”

It’s not until you step out of lab a few hours later, blinking the sun out of your eyes, that you see that F/N’s finally responded to your texts.

 Wifey!! <3:

i’m glad he was so kind to you!

and yeah babe, i think you’d realize i know who Jaehyun is by now

you’ve only mentioned him a billion times

you’re such a puppy

You:

He was really nice man, he made me feel like I could actually do this

I mean idk how long it’ll last but it’s nice of him to even try ;-;

And I think you’d realize I know I’m a puppy by now

You’ve only told me, like, a billion times

 Let it be said that you’re never one to let the opportunity to be petty go to waste.

A week later, you’re sprinting up the street between your favorite Thai place and the café F/N likes to frequent, short puffs of breath escaping your lungs into the cold night air. Your worn sneakers slap against the concrete as you try to find a secluded location for you to change covertly into more appropriate ‘crime-fighting’ clothing, when your frantic gaze lands on a relatively abandoned alleyway.

Key word: ‘relatively’, because there’s really only a cat in there, of course.

“Fuck yeah!” You whisper triumphantly under your breath, stepping into the shadows cast by the nightlights, letting their familiar chill wash over you, twist its way around your waist and seep under your skin, a comfortable, cool pressure—

And you’re out again, a couple of blocks ahead of where you started, and sprint up the street, jumping shadows to the second floor of a building, from where you see figure flying overhead.

You smirk. Right on time.

“Hey! Mind giving me a lift?!” You holler up, and with a flick of his wrist, you’re being lifted off your feet, propelled to the very top of the building. A grin pulls at the corner of your mouth, and you give in as you zip along after the figure ahead, who’s dressed in dark blue. “Thanks G!”

Gravitas – Mark – spares a look at you through his mask as he runs ahead, leaping gracefully over to the next building. “Hey Caligo!”

A grin pulls at the corner of your lips through your own mask, fully visible since it only extends to the bridge of your nose. He wants to play it like that, does he?

“Impressive, but you’ve got nothing on me!” You arch in a graceful backflip over the gap between the buildings, landing steadily on your feet.

Mark chuckles lightly at you, shaking his head when you skip ahead of him through the shadows. Like you aren’t going to wring out every advantage your Gift could possibly give you; there’s no way you’re letting him have the satisfaction of possibly being better than you.

“See anyone we need to beat up?” You slow your pace enough for him to run beside you, not needing to shout to be heard.

Mark’s mask covers his entire face, but you’re pretty sure you know the look he’s got on his face right now; that little dip between his eyebrows and the lightest pout on his lips. He’s really too predictable.

“We aren’t looking for people to beat up.” He corrects you. “We’re looking for people to save.”

You come to a stop so you can face him properly, hands settling on your hips. The seriousness of the situation doesn’t stop you from keeping the playfulness from your voice, though, forced as it might sound.

“Now that’s the mind of a future hero-in-the-making.” You shrug, mouth pursing into a tense smile. “The rest of us don’t really care so much about that, you know.”

Mark falters, nearly tripping over himself even though he’s slowed to a walk. “That isn’t what I was trying to imply, you know that.”

“I know.” You provide him with another half-shrug. “I’m just saying that I’m here to beat people up; you can call it saving people or whatever else satisfies your hero-complex but, at the end of the day, someone’s still getting beat.”

No matter how close the two of you are, this is an age old argument that neither of you have been able to shake off; the constant debate of vigilantism versus heroism. At the end of the day, you’re getting the same things done, so why Mark needs to get so prickly about it is beyond you.

He is training to be a hero – which you’ve grudgingly accepted, despite your misgivings – so that might be it. Unlike you, he’s always interested in those caped fantasies, in saving the day and happy endings. Even he has to admit it; Mark is the definition of a happy fool.

And you? Well, that’d make you the tortured genius – though there’s nothing particularly genius about you. Just tortured.

“At the end of the day, we’re still saving people too.” Mark’s voice is low, brittle. “We’ve talked about this before.”

“And we’ve always ended it the same way.” You force yourself to keep your calm, though you itch to blow up at him. “So what makes this time so different?”

Mark starts forward, about to answer, only to be interrupted by a familiar voice. A very unwelcome voice.

“Hope I’m not interrupting!”

There’s a muffled thump, like someone’s landing on their feet, as you slowly turn around, eyes growing wide behind your mask.

Decked out in a tight-fitting leather bodysuit and a black choker, which delicately circles his neck, he looks at you with dancing, mischievous eyes. The black eye mask that sculpts itself to his face prevents you from being able figure out who the man behind the mask is, but that isn’t your priority right now, because you know who this is, standing in front of you with that cheeky grin.

“Joker.”

Written By: Midnight

The amazing moodboard was done by Sangria! Blessed that I am to have such a perfect wife <3

Next: 02

[dumbkiri]

My Universe

Watch me as my world burns down

Parts: [1]

Summary: [Name] is born! Jason abandons his daughter as he sets out on an adventure only Dick knows about. Damian takes a liking to [Name] even though she is learning to like him back. Jason returns and wants [Name] back, but Damian won't let her go easily.

Pairing: Damian Wayne x HoH!Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Genre: Slight Angst! Slight Fluff!

WARNINGS: MENTIONS ABORTION, ABANDONMENT

Jason Todd felt pain. He has felt so much pain in his lifetime that it could kill him now. At one point it literally did. He was murdered by a psychopathic villain and felt pain each time that cold crowbar touched him.

It was when he was reborn that he continued to feel that dreaded feeling. He was replaced by a new Robin. He was forgotten. At least that was what he thought. Jason felt pain.

Although it slowly went away when he met a young woman. Her name was Aurora and she had beautiful [h.color] hair that shone in the moonlight. She had twinkling [e.color] eyes that challenged the stars. Her intelligence could rival Batman. Her heart pure like Alfred's care for the boys.

Jason knew that as he spent time with Aurora, he would love her. Love her as he loved books. She was something he held dear to his heart. He was going to fight for her and come back to her alive. She was his motivation.

"Hey, Jay," Aurora called from the baby's room, "do you prefer the gun in the cradle or not in the room at all?"

Jason pulled his helmet off and rested it on the kitchen counter. He grabbed an apple and took a bite from it, "Uh, why are you asking me that question? It's a weird question." He began walking toward the baby's room to see his girlfriend.

"I don't know if you tell me, maybe I will," That tone she used. It was different from the soft one she usually speaks with.

He stopped in his tracks and turned away from the opened door. No way in Hell was he going in there when his girlfriend used that tone. No, it was dangerous. And Jason knows dangerous.

"Come back here!" She roared and chucked the gun at his head to which he nearly dodged it. "Whoa, babe, calm down!" He raised his hands above his head to protect himself.

Aurora stepped out of the room with a sneer on her face, "Calm down? You put a gun in the baby's bed! How do you expect me to calm down?" She grabbed a pillow off one of the couches and threw it at Jason.

He caught it in his hands and smiled, "Hey, A, it was an accident. Remember last night when I was stumbling around with a gunshot wound to my shoulder and I came through the baby's room?"

"Yeah?" Aurora said still fuming. Her hand reaching for another pillow.

Jason held the pillow in his hands as a shield, "Well, I must have dropped it and totally forgot I left it in there."

Aurora stopped reaching for the pillow and instead placed it under her chin, "That explains the blood on the floor and the rocking chair."

"Why do we have a rocking chair again? That's a prop out of a horror movie. Haven't you seen Annabelle?"

Aurora threw the second pillow and it successfully hit Jason in the face, "Yeah I have, you forced me to watch it."

Jason chuckled and put the pillows that were thrown at him back on the couch. Then he wrapped his arms around Aurora mindful of the baby. "I didn't force it on you."

Aurora scoffed, "You basically set all the TVs and phones to only play that movie until I watched it with you. I don't know how you did it, but you did."

"I'm pretty smart, Aurora." Jason bragged and leaned in for a kiss.

She pulled away and walked back to the baby's room, "Yes, but it was Tim that helped you. Don't try lying to me, I'm psychic."

"Right," Jason rolled his eyes and followed after her, "I forgot about that."

Jason Todd felt heartache. His heart had broken before. Shattered into millions of pieces that it was impossible for him to fix. For his family to fix.

Aurora was different. She pieced his heart all together. Made sure that his glass heart would shine again. And it did.

He was happy with her. Bruce noticed it. The boys did and so did Alfred. They noticed how radiant and happy he was when Aurora was mentioned. Sometimes using her name calmed him down and sometimes it riled him up. It just depended on how her name was used.

His heart ached when the doctor addressed her. It was when they made a difficult decision together. As a family.

"Ms. Davis, I have terrible news for you," The doctor looked at Jason, "excuse me, for the both of you."

Aurora sat up in the hospital bed and Jason stood off his chair. "What? Is she not okay? She was healthy two weeks ago." Aurora tried to make sense of what the bad news the doctor was bringing.

The doctor shook his head and looked at his papers, "The baby is very healthy."

"Then what's wrong?" Jason pressed.

"It's your own health, Ms. Davis," The doctor looked sadly at the mother. He set his clipboard on the counter behind him. "I'm afraid that your life will be in danger when and, or after you give birth. I looked at your previous health issues and you have a history of heart problems. Giving birth is a strenuous feat and it could possibly kill you."

The couple didn't say a word. Too shocked to form a sentence. The doctor proceeded.

"You have two options, Ms. Davis and Mr. Todd. Either resume your regular activities and give birth risking your life, Ms. Davis, and possibly the child's."

"Or what?" Aurora asked breathlessly.

"Or you can have an abortion." The doctor finished with his hands intertwined in front of him.

"What?" Jason asked more than angry. "She either dies giving birth or we kill our own child? You can't do anything else for us?"

The doctor shook his head, "I'm sorry that's all we can do for you. I'll let you two discuss on what you want to do in private." The doctor left the room and closed the door behind him. Jason couldn't bear to look at Aurora. Not when he received such terrible news. Not until he felt her hand hold his trembling one.

"Hey," She whispered getting his attention. His blue eyes connected with her sparkling [e.color] ones.

"We both know what to do, right?" She asked her voice cracking and tears falling down her cheeks.

Jason wiped his eyes with his free hand, "I don't know what you're talking about, Aurora." His heart breaking once again. And she wasn't fixing it this time because her own heart was breaking.

She tugged on his hand, "Yes, you do. I know you do." Aurora saw his heart breaking right in front of her and she desperately wanted to hold it together. But how could she when she couldn't do the same for herself.

"Look at me, Jason," She demanded as her voice cracked.

He removed his hand from his eyes reluctantly and looked at her. She was smiling at him even when tears were falling down her cheeks. "We are having this baby," Aurora said confidently.

Jason shook his head, "You'll die and I can't lose you. I won't lose you because of this baby. I won't."

Aurora bit her lip, "I'm seven months pregnant. Do you know what they'll do to our angel, Jay? Do you?" She asked angrily. How could he consider abortion so easily? Was it because she would die?

"No and I don't want to know," Jason said pulling his hand away from her warm one. He was beginning to feel cold.

Aurora shifted in her spot, "What they will do to our baby is dismember it while she is inside me. I don't want to be on an operating table knowing that my little girl is being pulled out piece by piece and with her skull being crushed."

"And I don't want to know that while you are giving birth that your heart is failing you! I really don't Aurora!" Jason yelled his blue eyes boring into her very own soul. "You're the only person who really understands my pain. The only person who understands me."

Aurora cried, "And she'll learn how to understand you if you give her a chance. Give [Name] a chance to understand why I love you!"

Jason released his glare and stared at his girlfriend with pity, "You already have a name for her? When did you decide?"

"Just right now," Aurora said calmly, "she deserves a name if we are discussing whether she lives or dies."

"Okay," Jason tried to calm himself down. He walked to Aurora's bedside and brushed her hair. "[Name] is a beautiful name by the way. Where did you come up with that?" He was trying to forget what was going to happen to Aurora in two months.

Key word: Trying.

Jason felt alone. He felt alone once the love of his life closed her eyes on that bed. He felt sadness when Aurora didn't feel warm and when the monitor stopped beeping. He felt alone even when he held his newborn daughter. Aurora gave her life having this baby.

Turns out, [Name] was born deaf. His own daughter couldn't hear his voice. It was a good thing because she couldn't hear him cry over his dead girlfriend, over her dead mother as Dick took her out of the hospital room.

Jason cried and cried over Aurora. He yelled at her for leaving him alone. For agreeing that this was the best choice. That letting [Name] live was the best choice compared to her. He cried for himself because he had a child to take care of. He had to go home without his girlfriend and with a baby.

"Why won't she be quiet?" Damian complained to his brothers and father while dangling a stuffed lion above her. His green eyes glaring at the infant girl with annoyance.

Dick walked over to the baby in the carriage, "Have you tried giving the lion to her?"

Damian handed the stuffed animal to [Name] and she rudely threw it back at him. She was still crying. Their problem was not solved.

"Oh, [Name]," Dick cooed and poked her wet cheek, "you're not so pretty when you cry."

Damian pushed Dick away from the little girl, "That won't help, she can't hear you." Damian focused back on shushing [Name] up. Maybe if he brought Titus down in the cave, the dog will cheer her up.

"Why isn't Todd here? It's his daughter," Damian placed the stuffed lion next to the [e.color] eyed infant. "He's been gone ever since she was born which has been two weeks."

Dick cringed at the fact. He knew exactly where Jason was, but Jason specifically told him not to follow. That he would kill if him if he tried to stop him.

Timothy stopped typing away on his computer and sipped at his coffee. He wasn't going to butt in on Jason's life choices. But it was messed up that he left them to take care of [Name].

"Jason is going through a lot right now, Damian." Dick tried to defend the second Robin. Although it wasn't going smoothly. "He just lost his girlfriend and it's not easy-"

"He abandoned his only daughter," Damian sneered. He had enough with Jason's theatrics. [Name] needs her father. "Where is he Grayson?"

Dick sweatdropped at the deadly glare Damian was giving him. He pulled at his shirt in a nervous way, "Man it sure is getting hot, how about we go for a walk? [Name] needs some fresh air anyways."

Dick grabbed the bassinet and carefully put [Name] in it. When Dick held her [Name] had stopped crying, but when he put her in the bassinet she started again.

Damian quirked an eyebrow, "Hmm, I know what the problem is now."

Dick gave Damian a questioning look.

"Stupid Grayson, tt," Damian tutted and picked up [Name] cradling her in his arms. Her crying seized and instead she began cooing at the green eyed boy. "She wants to be held. Obviously we aren't the affectionate type, father being the worst at it," Damian took a verbal jab at the man working at the computer.

Bruce heard his words and was slightly wounded. No, he was totally wounded.

"But she craves some attention, some love," Damian was droning on and when he was Dick walked backwards toward Timothy keeping an eye on the boy.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Dick asked Tim with wide eyes.

Timothy nodded his head, "The demon spawn is actually holding a baby. Jason's baby to be exact and when he finds out, he's gonna flip."

[Name] Wayne felt happy. That's all she felt when she was around her family. They were caring and loving. They gave her candy even when she wasn't allowed to have any. They made silly faces at her and gave her warm hugs.

She couldn't hear them, but the faces they made at her helped her. She understood when she did something wrong because they frowned. She understood when she did something cool because they jumped up in excitement.

It was difficult for her to understand their language. All she needed was facial expressions for now.

"No, that's not how you say 'princess', Grayson. Are you paying attention at all?" Damian scowled as he watched Dick try to sign the one word he wanted to learn to call [Name].

[Name] sat in Damian's lap happily as she slapped her hands on his legs. The green eyed boy not minding, he was hit harder than before.

"Look Damian, we should take [Name] out for a walk. I think she might be getting bored of sitting in your lap." Dick said resting his hands by his side.

Damian looked offended, "Bored?" He picked up the two year old and asked her, "You don't get bored of me, do you [Name]?"

[Name] laughed and reached for his face. Her tiny fingers wiggling around and her feet kicking in the air. Her pink socks covering her toes that curled. He brought her closer to his face and let her hands rest on his cheeks. 

He could have sworn he saw the universe through her eyes. The planets revolving around the bright sun. Her eyes twinkled like the stars. He didn't know what the feeling was in his chest, he knew it was foreign. He liked the feeling. 

"Her answer is no," Damian confirmed with a smug look.

Dick chuckled, "She can't hear you, so how do you know?"

"She looks happy to me, doesn't she?" Damian countered.

"You got a point," Jason said standing above the two males. Dick jumped out of surprise and Damian literally jumped from his spot. The green eyed boy holding [Name] close to his body and away from her father.

"Why the hell are you here, Todd," Damian asked with venom laced in his tone. If he was allowed his sword around [Name], he would have cut Jason where he stood.

Jason rested his hands on his hips, "I'm here to see my daughter and take her home where she belongs."

Damian scoffed, "Where she belongs?" He held [Name] tighter in his arms, but not too much so he wouldn't hurt her. He knew his boundaries. "She doesn't belong to you Todd."

"Neither does she belong to you, demon spawn."

"You abandoned her and now you want to show up here and take her away? I won't let you."

Jason sighed and looked at Dick for help. The older male shrugged his shoulders walking to Damian to take [Name] away from him. Damian hesitated, but knew Dick wouldn't hand [Name] over so easily. After all they took care of her for two years.

Dick walked a good distance away from them.

Jason rolled his blue eyes and turned his body toward Dick. "I'm not doing this right now. I'm leaving with [Name] whether you like it or not." He took only a couple of steps to Dick and it didn't take long for Damian to stop him.

The green eyed boy swiped his foot under the unguarded male letting him fall onto his back. Then Damian pressed his foot on Jason's chest, "I won't repeat myself Todd. You won't take [Name] away."

Jason gripped onto Damian's foot. "Don't test me, Damian," The blue eyed male growled. 

"Same goes for you, Todd," Damian pressed his foot harder onto Jason's chest. His green eyes sparkling in determination. His motivation fuelled by protecting [Name] and when he heard her giggle behind him. His heart leaped. It was a weird feeling. 

Caught off guard, Damian was flipped onto his back by Jason. His back crashing down and almost knocking the air out of him. "You don't listen, demon spawn. One day it'll get you killed." 

Damian didn't like people like Jason standing over him. It wasn't right. So he rolled backwards standing protectively in front of Dick and [Name]. His black hair tousled from the fall. "I'm not stupid enough to repeat history, Todd. I won't die like you." 

His words struck a chord within Jason. "Dick, I want my daughter back." 

"I said she doesn't belong to you," Damian clarified getting Jason's attention again. "She doesn't know who you are. You're a complete stranger to her." 

Jason rubbed his face in annoyance, "Which is why I'm taking her back, [Name] needs to be with her father. This is adult business and you don't understand that-"

"Adult business? Since when have you started acting like an adult? The only person that kept you in line was Aurora, [Name]'s mother." Damian spat with hatred. 

Jason's blue eyes changed from a sunny sky to a storm in an ocean, "Don't say her name. You have no right to judge me for what I've been through." 

"Imagine what you put [Name] through!" Damian pointed at the two year old sniffling in Dick's arms, "She may not understand what's going on, but she can tell by our expressions that this isn't pretty!" 

"Why do you care for her so much, huh? She isn't yours to begin with. She never was!" 

"I've been at her side longer than you have which is more than you can say for yourself! You're unfit to be a father!" 

Dick watched with careful eyes as his brothers argued amongst each other. [Name] kicked her legs and pushed against his arms wanting to be near the bickering males. Then Dick started feeling weird and [Name] was beginning to sparkle. 

Then suddenly she started floating out of his arms. "Guys…" Dick drawled out trying to get their attention. But they weren't listening. Dick watched as [Name] grew. Literally grow right in front of him. 

"I say we got about this a different way, pipsqueak," Jason grabbed Damian by the collar of his black shirt. 

"Is that a challenge, Todd?" Damian questioned raising a fist up in the air. 

As Damian was going to unleash his anger, he stopped once he felt a weight on his back and small arms wrap around his waist. He looked down and saw a girl with [h.color] hair holding onto him tightly. Her eyes closed and tears streaming down her pretty face. 

Damian lowered his arm and called out to the little girl, "[Name]?" 

......

Tags: @zalladane @buchanangaby @poisoned-pineapple

[agoodgoddamnshot]

Soldier, Poet, Queen [E] - Geralt/Jaskier

[Gif isn’t mine]

Originally posted on my AO3 account

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

Ciri looks across the table. “Jaskier, help me.”

The bard looks up, a spoon halfway to his mouth. “I’m not getting involved,” he says airily, continuing with his dinner.

Geralt snorts. “That’s a first.” The Witcher grunts as a swift kick lands to his shin underneath the table.

Ciri huffs, folding her arms tightly over her chest. It’s in moments like these that they’re both reminded how young the girl is. She’s a child. A bowl of stew sits in front of her, somewhat forgotten about. Geralt nudges it towards her. She takes a moment to glare at the Witcher before begrudgingly picking her spoon back up.

A troop of soldiers have taken up most of the rooms in the town. They’ve been called on by a neighbouring lord, intending on heading south to stop Nilfgaardian movements. It’s been almost a week and a half since they’ve heard anything about the southern kingdoms and how they’re fairing. It’s been even longer since they heard whispers about what the Nilfgaardian armies are up to. Still, they’ll keep moving north with the other refugees – all keen on putting as much distance as they can between them and the chasing fires.

Kaer Morhen is still a few leagues away. Winter seems keen on settling over the continent within the next couple of weeks. Snow has already started capping the mountains and hills. It won’t be long until it’s blown downwards; animals will be housed in barns and crops will long be hauled in. The roads will be frostbitten and hard, but empty. No one will try and travel in the cold.

The tavern isn’t that busy. Most of the soldiers are out back, sharpening their swords and fletching arrows. Geralt can hear the squeal of metal against whetstones, even through wooden walls and the soft chatter of those inside the tavern.

“You said it yourself,” Ciri mumbles, swirling her spoon around the stew. “I’m going to have to know how to protect myself.”

Geralt grunts. “And you can learn that in Kaer Morhen.”

“Which is still leagues away!”

“We’ll be there by the end of the week,” Geralt says shortly.

Ciri sighs, defeated. Jaskier can’t help but chuckle. “You’ll make a fine warrior, princess,” he offers.

Geralt frowns at him. Speaking any part of Ciri’s identity into the world seems like an invitation for bad things. He doesn’t know exactly what happened inside the walls of Cintra, or what happened in the week after the city fell, but he does know that not a lot of people mourned the Queen’s death. He’s heard her be called all sorts of insults on the roads. So Ciri is Fiona, and the fact that she is what she is, is only known to them both.

A small smile ghosts Ciri’s lips at the compliment. Geralt nudges her shoulder. “Eat,” he orders. “We’ll move out in the morning, so get as much food and sleep as you can.”

Kaer Morhen is both everything he expected it to be and nothing like it at all. A heavy wooden gate groans open as they approach. It’s a large keep, made up of slate-coloured buildings backed into the face of a mountain, shrouded and shielded by the hills around it and a thick, cloaking fog. Roach knickers softly, throwing her head back. Geralt gives her a soft pat on her neck. Jaskier catches the movement out of the corner of his eye. She recognises home.

A faint figure of a man slips out between the gates. He had a hand on the pommel of his sword, but it drops as soon as he sees them walking towards the gate. Even with the wind howling, Jaskier hears a deep laugh echo. “Well, I don’t fucking believe it,” the man spreads his arms out. “The White Wolf has returned for the winter!”

Roach halts. Jaskier helps Ciri down first, adjusting the girl’s cape around her shoulders and neck as a particularly harsh wind blows through. Geralt drops down from Roach. His feet have barely touched the ground before the man has him gathered in a tight embrace. Without the fog clouding his vision, Jaskier takes the man in. He’s the same height and build as Geralt, but his hair is cropped and auburn.

When they pull away from each other, the man claps his hand on Geralt’s shoulder. “Where the fuck have you been? I’ve heard all sorts of stories about you!” he laughs.

Geralt pats the man’s arms “Is Vesemir here?” he asks, his expression stoning slightly.

The man nods. “Aye. He came back from market a few hours ago.”

Geralt hums. “I have something to discuss with him.”

The keep sprawls for what seems like miles in all directions. He can imagine what it must have been like, with countless boys in varying stages of life living within these walls. The stones around him contain memories, he’s sure. Now though, only a handful of hallways are lit by faint candlelight. Banners and tapestries have frayed edges, but still cling desperately to metal railings keeping them up.

As soon as they stepped foot inside the main keep, they stood in front of an elderly man with a scowling face. Geralt stiffened slightly. “Vesemir,” he inclined his head. Jaskier watched him out of the corner of his eye. Vesemir’s eyes – amber, though not as bright as Geralt’s – flickered over to where Jaskier and Ciri stood. His jaw tightened.

He inclined his head – a silent order for them to follow.

Jaskier will be sure to wander and explore later, but he learned that Kaer Morhen is bigger than it appears. A courtyard, kitchen, dining hall, library, and armoury – to name but a few rooms that he can see. Geralt told him countless stories about the keep and what there is in it. But after seeing it from the outside, how it scales up a mountainside, he’s sure that there are more things to find. And he isn’t really sure what other thing will occupy his time while they spend the winter here.

Ciri stays by his side. Jaskier glances down, watching them fall into step with each other. The Witchers walk together, a couple of strides ahead. Vesemir is silent: but Jaskier has lived too many years with Geralt to know when a person is brewing something like anger in them.

Jaskier squeezes her hand. A silent question. Are you alright?

She glances up at him. She nods after a moment, but tightens her grip on his hand.

They’re brought into a meeting space. A large hearth is at one side of the room, being stoked by who Jaskier presumes is Eskel. Geralt mentioned the names of his brothers before. The Witcher doesn’t look up from prodding the fire, hoping for the newest block of wood to catch. The man from the gate – Lambert, Jaskier learned – takes a seat near the fire. He kicks out with a leg, hitting Eskel’s calf. “Move, you oaf,” he says. “The heat can’t get out with your fat arse in the way.”

Eskel scowls at the other Witcher, but sets the poker back against the hearth. Vesemir watches all of them flood into the room. Jaskier takes Ciri to one of the many armchairs near the fire. She’s been trembling with the cold for the past couple of days, no matter how many layers of clothes she gets on. Jaskier gestures to the ties of her cloak. “Let’s get this off,” he says quietly, dropping down on one knee when she settles back into the armchair, “or you’ll overheat.”

“Are you stupid, boy?”

Vesemir’s voice is a harsh thing. Like a sword against metal. Jaskier glances over just in time to see Geralt wincing, looking down at his boots. He picks at some flaking skin around his fingernail.

“Forces like that of the Law is as ancient as time,” Vesemir growls. “We don’t interfere with it!”

“I didn’t think that-”

“-Too right! You didn’t think.” The man’s head snaps over to the other side of the room, looking at the other two Witchers.

Something shadows Eskel’s face.

Jaskier doesn’t have the heart to tell the eldest Witcher that, technically, Geralt invoked the Law twice. Both times, the end result was Ciri ending up being entrusted into his care. Whoever it was that ruled over the universe, a pantheon of gods or something else entirely, it was very keen on getting Ciri and Geralt together. Those two threads of fate are so entangled together now it’s hard to see where one ends and another begins. But looking at how small Geralt looks now, practically curled in on himself as Vesemir launches into another “lesson” about how destiny can be a treacherous, unyielding bitch, Jaskier bites his tongue.

It’s not to say he’ll store that piece of information away for later, for if Geralt happens to step out of line or be a particular pain in the arse.

Ciri stares down at her boots. Jaskier takes one of her hands in his. Even bundled in a heavy, woollen cloak, a scarf, and gloves, she still shakes like a leaf. He rubs their hands together, warming them up.

Behind them, Geralt tells Vesemir and the others about everything that had happened: from invoking the Law all those years ago in Cintra, to finding Ciri in a forest clearing over a decade later. Vesemir glances over to them when Geralt mentions Cintra. Something shadows over his face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. An entire kingdom is without a monarch. He’s pretty sure that Cintra has fallen entirely. It’s not something that’s ever brought up. They can only imagine what Ciri went through when being taken out of the city.

There are brief moments, mainly during the night, when she’ll wake up because of a night terror. One of them is always nearby, gentling and assuring her that she is safe, and nothing would come to harm her.

And they were always so mindful. Neither of them used Ciri’s name while out in the wilds. She had told them both that she had called herself Fiona to a handful of Cintran refugees in the days after the fall of the city. It was a name that stuck. Gods only knew where Nilfgaardian soldiers were at any one moment, and if they had riders or spies heading up through the north, rooting out where the princess may have gone.

Something cold settled into Geralt’s bones one day: when he knew that Cahir or whoever it was leading the southern front wanted to get their hands on Ciri. Geralt always seemed quieter after that, more protective of the girl from just about anyone who wandered a bit too close. Ciri couldn’t walk anywhere without the Witcher being an ever-present shadow, always just an arm’s reach away. Jaskier gentled him as best as he could; but he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel the same way.

Apart from wandering the halls of the keep, taking stock of how many rooms there are and what they’re for, Jaskier finds himself with nothing to do. The Witchers make idle conversation with him: mainly asking about the ballads he has written throughout the years. Eskel laughed into his cup during dinner. “I couldn’t go to any town in the south that didn’t have a bard singing one of your creations,” he said after gulping down a mouthful of ale.

“Imagine what it was like living with their creator,” Geralt mutters. Jaskier sends him an affronted look, but ultimately goes back to his own food. Something small and mumbled may slip past his lips about ungrateful Witchers and how he made them all famous, so they can keep their coin to themselves.

He strums a couple of chords, staring up at the wooden rafters above him. Inspiration has avoided him throughout the past couple of weeks. But then again, the Continent has enough of his songs circulating around. And Geralt was never short on contracts offered by most villages and towns they passed through. He only stopped taking them once they came into possession of Ciri. They had enough coin between them to take time off, making sure that the girl was safe.

In the time they took travelling to Kaer Morhen, they made sure that the coin they did have stretched as far as it would go. They stayed outside of cities and towns when they needed to – the road, although rough and cold, is safe when winter starts to roll in. They only bought food that they couldn’t hunt for themselves. Sometimes people would offer them a loaf of bread, or half a wheel of cheese; people that Geralt did jobs for once, still thinking that they needed to repay the Witcher as he passed by their homesteads.

The balcony looks out on to a large dirt courtyard. Some stables are nearby, with Roach and the others’ horses happily feasting on hay and oats. Training dummies stuffed with down-feathers, and with makeshift armour on their heads and chests stand at attention around the outside of a large dirt circle. In the middle of it, Ciri, armed with a wooden sword, watches Lambert teach her how to hold a blade properly.

Jaskier casually plucks at a few more strings, idly humming a tune to himself. Beside him, Geralt sits forward in his own chair, looking down at the courtyard.

Lambert nudges her foot with his. “Keep your feet anchored, lass,” he says, bending his own knees slightly. “If your centre is low, enemies have a hard time knocking you over.���

Ciri nods, mirroring the Witcher. It takes a couple of tries for her to navigate how to stand, how to step back, and fall into the stance again. It’s made even more difficult when Lambert reminds her that she has a sword in her hand – although wooden – and should be held in a certain way, and positioned correctly in front of her.

Jaskier makes a face. He can’t count the number of times he called Geralt’s sword fighting dancing. And it does look like it, even now. Ciri stumbles over herself occasionally, huffing when Lambert corrects her. It seems more complicated than what most people seem to do: grab a blade’s pommel as tightly as you can and just start swinging.

Geralt arches his neck, watching the girl and his brother closely. He doesn’t blink. Or at least, Jaskier doesn’t think he does. He looks at him out of the corner of his eye. A slow smile spreads over his lips. “If you’re that concerned about her getting hurt, then you really have to rethink about what you’re letting her do.”

Geralt makes a sound in the back of his throat. Jaskier sets his lute aside, reaching out for one of Geralt’s hands. The Witcher doesn’t pull away; he could if he wanted to, Jaskier always gives him the option to. But he smiles faintly at the way Geralt’s fingers lace with his, squeezing slightly. He still stares out on to the courtyard, watching both people down there like a hawk.

Jaskier traces idle, unrecognisable patterns over the back of Geralt’s hand.

Ciri manages to hold her own. She’s only been training with Lambert for a couple of days, but she takes to each lesson like a duck to water. Even when Lambert leaves, announcing that they’re done for the day, she stays behind; practising all that she’s learned by herself, or on the dummies around the arena.

At one particularly good strike to Lambert’s side, Jaskier hums. “She can hold her own,” he says firmly. Because, gods, she can.

Geralt angles his head. He doesn’t reply, but with how firmly he’s holding Jaskier’s hand, the bard can only imagine what’s going on in his head. Jaskier shuffles his chair closer to Geralt’s. “I imagine this is how parents feel,” he says softly. His fingers ghost over the back of Geralt’s hand, running over scarred knuckles.

“I’m not, though,” Geralt says after a time. “Her parent.”

Jaskier clicks his tongue. “She’s yours,” he says gently. His words won’t carry over to the arena; they’re too far away. But even still, he knows how sharp a Witcher’s hearing can be. And even if Lambert is currently occupied with teaching Ciri about where to strike on a body, Jaskier keeps his voice low just in case he listens in. “In a biological sense, no. You’re of no relation to her whatsoever. But family is more than blood.”

A soft hum leaves the Witcher.

Jaskier squeezes Geralt’s hand. “You’re my family,” he says, “as is she. And I would gladly take this family over the family that shares blood with me.”

And he’s explained it all before; his life before meeting Geralt in that inn all those years ago. Geralt listened, offered soft words of sympathy and comfort at the rehashing of a particularly harsh memory being dredged up. But the people that share his blood and last name, they aren’t his family. His family is a Witcher and his child surprise.

Geralt jolts slightly at the sound of a thump echoing through the courtyard. Jaskier blinks, looking down at the dirt arena. He watches as Ciri scrambles back on to her feet, dusting gravel and dirt off of her breeches, and running at Lambert at full speed with her sword retracted over her head.

Yeah, Jaskier thinks, she can look after herself just fine.

The hand around his has tightened. Looking at Geralt out of the corner of his eye, he snorts at the scowl firmly etched on to his face. When Ciri is, predictably, knocked down again, the corner of Geralt’s lip lifts into a snarl. “Don’t kill him,” Jaskier mutters, leaning forward to press a kiss to the ridge of Geralt’s jawline. “I like Lambert. He actually laughs at my jokes.”

Winter rolls in silently. The winds gradually get colder, nipping at Jaskier’s skin whenever he steps outside, or if the balcony doors to their room are left open. Hearths in the main rooms of Kaer Morhen are kept lit. Each Witcher takes turns wandering out to a nearby forest to bring in wood for the fires. Another saving grace is the fact that the keep was built on some hot springs deep in the body of the mountain. The lower levels, where the baths are, are always humid. With how warm the keep is kept during the days and nights, he’d be forgiven for forgetting that winter had even settled in the first place.

When the first heavy snow slides down from the peaks of the mountains, it covers everything. The arena outside, where Ciri had spent most of her time, is unusable. That doesn’t mean her training stops, though. The library of the keep holds too many books for Jaskier to count. Most of them are anthologies: studies into different types of monsters, and how best to kill them. Others concern the history of different kingdoms on the Continent.

Geralt sits with her, explaining the differences between each monster she reads about. She pipes up with a question every so often, asking what actually the difference between a ghoul and an alghoul is. Jaskier tries to hide a small smile into his journal when Geralt shrugs, saying he doesn’t actually know, or think that a difference actually exists. The others agree with him.

They’re all gathered in one of the main living spaces. Eskel and Lambert are by the fire, warming themselves after seeing to the horses comfortably stabled outside. Jaskier sits nearby, writing down aimless scribbles into a journal. Inspiration has been fleeting in the past couple of weeks; which strikes him as strange. He’s in the home of Witchers. Surely something would inspire a story.

Vesemir walks into the room, securing his cloak around him. “I’m going to the market. I’ll be a few hours.” He glances over to Lambert. “Don’t try and kill each other while I’m gone, you hear?”

Lambert splays his hands, an affronted look flashing over his face. Before he can even open his mouth, Eskel jumps in. “We’ll manage.”

Vesemir hums, not entirely convinced.

Ciri’s head pops up from her book. “Can I come with you?” she asks earnestly, pushing the tome out of her way.

Vesemir gives her a small smile. “Not this time, lassie,” he replies. “When the snow thaws and the roads a bit safer, I’ll bring you then.”

Ciri sits back with a small huff. Geralt nudges the book back in front of her. It earns him a glowering look off of the girl.  

He gives them a gruff goodbye before heading out into the snow. Jaskier watches the door close behind him. “Will he be okay on his own?” he says, looking over to the gathering of Witchers dotted around the room.

Eskel snorts. “That old dog will outlive us all, lad,” he says, throwing another block of wood on to the fire. It spits and hisses, but eventually calms. Another blanket of quietness lies over the room.

It’s a comfortable one; one that doesn’t ask to be filled by pointless conversation or questions about the weather. Not the kind of silences Jaskier used to know in courts and taverns throughout the kingdoms. The Witchers by the fire seem happy enough to just watch the fire lick at the blocks. There’s a soft hum of conversation from Ciri and Geralt from across the room. Jaskier looks over to them every so often; watching with a faint smile how Geralt helps with her with the pronunciation of monster names and the ingredients for potions.

His heart swells.

Most mornings, he wakes alone. He’s grown used to the feel of a cooling or cold bed when he reaches out, knowing that Ciri has training in the morning with Geralt. What he learned, though, is that morning means as soon as the sun peeks over the mountain, when the goddamn birds haven’t even woken up yet.

But with snow still sitting over the keep, forcing everyone to stay inside for fear of freezing, now he wakes up to a warm figure behind him. Or on him. Or curled around him.

The first beams of morning light start to crawl over to the foot of the bed. Jaskier watches them, listening to the soft intake of breath behind him. Lying on his front, he’s effectively pinned to the bed, unable to move. Not that he would, of course. He likes Geralt claiming one side of his body as his personal pillow. He likes that the Witcher’s head is resting beside his, that his arm is flung over his back, curled around his waist.

He wouldn’t move even if the gods commanded it.

Pillowing his head on his arms, it’s the most amount of movement he can get away with. Geralt’s breathing changes slightly, but with a small snuffle against Jaskier’s shoulder blade, his hold on the bard tightens, and he settles again.

The hearth’s fire died at some point during the night. Embers and ashes are all that remains of it. Still, though, the room is warm. Most of that heat is because of the Witcher by his side. Even with a slowed heartbeat and a cold personality, at the best of times, Jaskier came to realise that the man is a walking inferno. And if Jaskier sits beside him, or can hold on to him during the night, he can keep just as warm as if he were sitting by a hearth.

And that’s...Jaskier blinks. That’s a good idea, actually. He lifts his head slightly, looking over to the nightstand. He always keeps a journal just out of arm’s reach. He’s had too many odd dreams in his past to not document them.

Lips suddenly press against his shoulder blade. “What are you doing?” Geralt rumbles.

“Preparing for my great return to the kingdoms’ musical scene,” Jaskier replies simply, jotting down a couple of lines for what he can only presume will be his next hit. An entire season has passed by without a new song; and lesser bards around the Continent will want to have more material to sing, and their patrons will want something new to hear.

The Witcher huffs what Jaskier can only assume is a laugh. Jaskier barely gets a sentence down on the page before he bristles at Geralt’s hand starting to wander. It skims over his side, fingers as light as anything, causing gooseflesh to break out in their wake.

When Geralt’s hand slips underneath him, edging very close to his cock, he makes a noise in the back of his throat. He manages to swat Geralt in the shoulder with his journal. “I’m not one to deny your advances, but just for a few minutes, could you please keep it to yourself. I’m busy.”

Geralt laughs against Jaskier’s skin. His hand doesn’t move too far away, settling on the bone of Jaskier’s hip instead. His thumb rubs gently over it, making unrecognisable patterns into the skin. Jaskier huffs, scribbling down a few more lines.

Throwing the journal on to the nightstand, Jaskier looks over his shoulder. “Now, what did you want?”

“You always say such romantic things to me.”

Jaskier turns, or at least, as much as he’s able with Geralt’s hold still on him. The Witcher eventually relents, letting Jaskier flop down on to his back and settle down against the pillows. “I’m busy,” he repeats. “I don’t go bothering you when you’re lecturing Ciri. I have to keep myself occupied somehow.”

Something flashes across Geralt’s face just then. It’s gone as soon as it appeared, but Jaskier blinks. He reaches up, dusting his fingertips along the ridge of Geralt’s jaw. The Witcher lifts his head with the movement. “Are you unhappy here?” he asks, with his voice nothing more than a hum.

“What? No. Gods, no.” The words leave him as quickly as a breath does. “No. I’m happy wherever you are. And Ciri. I just need to keep myself occupied while you’re both doing Witcher-y stuff, is all.”

“I could keep you occupied,” Geralt says. The faintest hint of a smirk starts pulling at the corner of his lip.

“Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier blinks, “I think that was very close to something of a joke. A lewd joke. I can’t wait to tell everyone that you have finally found a sense of humour.” A smile threatens to break out over his own face. One that’s firmly kissed away by Geralt.

A moan escapes him at the first trace of Geralt’s tongue against the seam of his lips. Gods only know how long they’re like that for, lips against each others, hands mapping out leagues of skin and muscle.

Jaskier threads his fingers into Geralt’s hair, tugging on it slightly. The Witcher grunts, pulling away from Jaskier’s lips. He rests their foreheads together for a moment, before leaning down and kissing Jaskier’s jaw.

“It’s late. Ciri will be wondering where you are,” Jaskier tries, but ultimately tilts his neck, letting Geralt scatter kisses down the length of it. He gasps when teeth start to scrape and nip. If he wants to keep bruises at bay, he’ll have to get it to stop now. Too many keen-eyed Witchers have already sussed out what it is he is to Geralt. He certainly doesn’t need to parade around with a necklace of hickeys – it’ll only stoke the fire.

Geralt’s hand drifts down to his leg, lifting and hooking it over his hip. “Eskel said that he’d take her this morning,” mumbles into Jaskier’s neck.

It’s a testament to how well their bodies know each other. When Geralt’s fingers slip inside him, drenched in oil gotten out of gods know where, it doesn’t take long for his body to part and give way. Jaskier’s head rolls back, heavy sighs and moans leaving him with every graze of fingers against that spot inside of him.

And gods if Geralt would let him, he would sing about this until every kingdom on the Continent collapsed. He would never, of course. The Witcher already threatened him many moon-turns ago that if he ever so much as breathed about their sex lives to anyone, there wouldn’t be a scrap of Jaskier left to find.

And it’s always in jest. He would never tell anyone. These moments are for them. So much of their lives changed the instant Ciri collided into it. But they’ll always have this.

When Geralt slips inside of him, every trace of breath escapes. “Fuck,” he swears, curling his arms around Geralt’s shoulders, holding him for a moment. It’s always on the right side of too much, the first time they join. No matter how many times they lie together.

Geralt rests their foreheads together. “You alright?” he breathes. It’s some sort of solace, knowing that he can affect Geralt just as much as he can affect him.

Jaskier nods. “Yeah. Yeah, you can move.”

Geralt doesn’t leave him. His hips rock against his, wrenching cut-off groans from the bard. His hold on Jaskier’s leg tightens. With a quick movement, he angles it to the side, letting him get deeper. Nails scrape along his back. Jaskier angles his hips slightly, making sure that the Witcher can get as deep as possible, and every second or third thrust grazes his prostate. They know each other too well: especially what to do to make the other person breathless.

Geralt’s teeth graze his neck. His arms slip underneath Jaskier, holding him close to his chest. Geralt flips them both, settling Jaskier over him as he lies back against the pillows.

Jaskier groans. The movement only gets Geralt’s cock deeper. He slumps forward slightly. Planting one hand beside Geralt’s head, his hips start to move of their own accord. Geralt’s hands find purchase there, not guiding him in any way, but just holding on.

A warm coil starts tightening in his core. He can feel it starting, and just wills it to hold off for a moment. He looks down at the Witcher stretched out underneath him; hooded eyes, a lazy smile ghosting his lips.

He doesn’t know how long they spend moving against and with each other. Jaskier’s heart leaps to his throat at the sound of movement in the hallway outside. Heavy footfalls of other Witchers leaving their bedrooms next door. Something must flash across his face, because Geralt huffs a light laugh. “They’ll hear you if you’re not careful, lark,” he grins.

Jaskier opens his mouth to say something, but it’s cut off into a sharp groan when Geralt fucks into him that bit harder. “Oh, you bastard,” he grits. It takes a couple of minutes for the hallway outside to get quiet again. And the second it does, a chorus of moans and grunts leave the both of them as Jaskier’s vision starts to blur around the edges. His core tightens and coils in on itself. He’s close, and looking down at the Witcher, he can tell that he’s near his end too.

“How do you want to come?” Geralt breathes, planting his feet to help thrust up into Jaskier that bit harder.  

“Oh gods, like this,” he sighs, leaning back and staring up at the canopy of the bed. Shivers tremble up throughout his body with every thrust down on to Geralt’s cock. It’s not enough and too much at once. “Fuck, like this. Make me come, please Geralt.”

The hands on his hip tighten, leaving what he hopes will be marks. Buried underneath his clothes, he won’t be able to move much without knowing what the damn Witcher did. And it sends shivers up through his spine.

He tightens around Geralt at a particularly well-aimed thrust to his prostate. His breath catches in his throat. Geralt sits up, gathering an arm around him and holding him close. His own cock is between them, red and leaking. Every brush of it against Geralt’s abdomen only sends him closer to the edge.

Jaskier loops his arms around Geralt’s shoulder, burying his face into Geralt’s neck. Every groan punched out of him with every thrust soaks into the skin there. When he comes, his vision whitens. His arms tighten around Geralt, holding him close as wetness spreads between the both of them.

Geralt follows not long after, with his hands at Jaskier’s hips holding him down as he fills the bard.

Geralt brings them both down to lie on to the bed. He slips out of the bard quickly, reaching out and fumbling for a shirt of his that he discarded at some point during the night. He cleans the both of them as best as he’s able, before tossing it aimlessly aside to some corner of the room. Jaskier’s breath slowly returns to him. When Geralt lies back against the pillows, lifting his arm, he crawls into the free space. He sighs at the slight thrum of soreness that goes through his lower spine.

“You’re a big softie, you know that?” Jaskier smiles as he settles against Geralt’s side. “Were you truly concerned about me wasting away in this keep?”

Fingertips run up and down each knob of his spine. A slight scrape of nail joins it. “It isn’t lost on me that you’re a bard in a keep of Witchers,” Geralt says slowly. “I worried that you might have felt alone.”

“A sheep among wolves,” Jaskier hums, resting his chin against Geralt’s chest. “I don’t feel alone. I’m with you, aren’t I?”

A small smile ghosts over Geralt’s face.

Jaskier knows the second the last of the snow has melted. He’s vaguely aware of a loud chorus of knocking against their bedroom door. He frowns, cover his eyes against the morning light coming in through the windows, and burrows back into his pillow. Geralt fairs slightly better, grunting awake and lifting his head, glaring daggers into the door. When the knocking continues, Geralt huffs and buries back underneath the blankets.

“Shouldn’t you get that?” Jaskier mumbles.

What he gets as an answer is a non-committal hum.

But Jaskier wakes fully to the door of their room suddenly flying open. “Geralt! Geralt! Geralt!” Ciri scrambles into the room, rushing over to the foot of their bed. Jaskier manages to move out of the way just in time for Ciri to all but launch herself on to the mattress.  

Geralt grunts, rubbing a hand over his face. “What are you doing so awake at this hour?” he rasps.

“It’s midday,” Ciri protests, pointing to the tall lancet windows. Jaskier opens his eyes as best as he’s able and, yeah, he’s met with bright skies and a sun sitting high up over the mountain’s peak. Ciri shoves at Geralt. “And the snow is gone! You promised that as soon as the snow is gone, you would take me out hunting with you.”

“I didn’t mean the very second it’s gone, Ciri,” Geralt sighs. He frees an arm from the blanket cocoon they have around each other. Reaching out, snagging Ciri’s waist with his arm, he brings the girl down to lie down in the sliver of free space between them. She tries to struggle out of his hold, using everything she’s learned from the others to try and get Geralt’s arm away from her. But ultimately, she collapses against the mountain of pillows by the headboard of the bed, huffing harshly.

“You promised,” she says, glancing up at him. Her eyes are wide, with the faintest hint of a pout to her lips.

Jaskier brushes some hair out of the girl’s face. It’s freshly washed; he can smell the orange blossom oils she always steals from him. Ever since she started her training, she’s worn her hair back in a simple braid. One that never survives from how intensely the girl insists on training. He smiles down at her. “Geralt is still keen on hibernating like a bear, I’m afraid, little swallow. If you want him out of bed, you should have brought food.”

Jaskier barely gets out of the way of a swatting hand from the other side of the bed.

Geralt loosens his grip on the girl. It gives her enough leeway to manage to sit up, resting her back against the headboard of the bed. “I’ve gotten better at pirouetting,” she says simply, fumbling with the fraying edge of her tunic. “I was hoping that I could show you today.”

Geralt blinks up at her. “If the arena hasn’t flooded with melted snow, you can show me everything the others have taught you.”

“But you’ll bring me hunting with you first, right?”

A small laugh escapes him. “Right.”

“Because Lambert says that we need more meat for the stores.”

“I know-”

“-And Eskel mentioned something about Lambert being bitchy when he’s hungry-”

“-Don’t swear-”

“-You swear all the time!”

Jaskier hides his laughter into his pillow, as best as he’s able. He rolls over to look over the edge of the bed. For the first time in a long time, sleep-clothes stayed on during the night. Sleep washed over them before anything managed to start. He spots one of his doublets nearby. Even with just an arm out, he can feel how cold the air is. And leaving the small fort of blankets both he and Geralt managed to construct for themselves during the night is not sitting well with him at all.

Ciri and Geralt continue to argue behind him as he grabs his doublet, quickly slipping it on before the cold can chill his bones. Even with the snow gone, the air still nips and bites. The keep juts out of a mountain. Thick forests and hills surround them in every direction. Being up so high means that the air is always cold and unforgiving, no matter how much the sun shines down.

Jaskier slips out of bed. He pads over to the other side of the room, grabbing his breeches and boots. Over his shoulder, he sees Geralt start the slow process of getting out of bed himself. Ciri hops down, adjusting her tunic and belt, synching it to her waist. Her wooden sword lies scattered at the foot of the bed. Geralt eyes it as he passes. “You better not treat your actual blades like that.”

Both he and Geralt dress quickly. The Witcher grabs his blades, strapping the sheathes to their normal position against his back. Ciri gathers her own sword, pinning it to her waist by her belt.

They pass Eskel and Lambert in the main gathering room, hauling in some wood for the fire. They stack it beside the stone hearth, content to leave it for a few hours. The hearth isn’t lit. The springs beneath the keep warm the walls with their steam.

The hunting party for the day is Vesemir, Lambert, Geralt, and Ciri. Vesemir is already outside, filling a quiver with arrows and hooking it to his waist. Three bows lie on a table near him. “Grab a bow and some arrows,” he glances up at the sky. “Who knows how long the weather stays like this.” Something akin to a smile flickers over Vesemir’s face as soon as Ciri rushes past, making a grab for a bow and quiver. Lambert gets there before her, holding the two objects up above her head, just out of reach.

A laugh bellows out of his chest. “If you want it, princess, get it off of me. You know how.”

Geralt is the last to join the party. He stays by Jaskier’s side, leaning down, pressing a soft kiss to the arch of Jaskier’s cheek. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” he says.

Jaskier lifts his chin. A silent request for another kiss. It’s given to him as quickly as he asked for it. “Be careful,” he mumbles when they pull away.

Geralt shrugs a shoulder. “I have Ciri with me. I’m in safe hands.”

A sharp whistle cuts through the air. “None of that, now,” Lambert hollers at them, making a face at how close they’re standing. He’s still towering above Ciri, not budging no matter how hard she shoves at him. “We need to go while we still have the sun. Keep your canoodling to yourselves in your own time.”

Geralt flips him off.

The first time Ciri manages to land a hit on Geralt, Jaskier has to physically restrain himself from running out on to the arena dirt and hugging her with pride. 

There’s a slow trudge into spring. The days are steadily getting warmer, although cold winds still blow through the keep every so often. Geralt came back from the market one day with a cloak in his hand, saying that although the other Witchers could handle the cold, he couldn’t stand by and let his lark shiver for one more second.

Jaskier tugs it tighter around himself, warding off the cold. His fingers are fine though, strumming a few chords on his lute. The occasional screech of a blade on whetstone joins him. Eskel is nearby, sharpening the last of his blades. But he stops whenever Jaskier’s couple of chords become lines of music. Whenever the bard mumbles a few lines, testing how they taste and sit in his mouth, Eskel keeps quiet.

Geralt and Ciri keep practising, though. She was telling the truth when she barged into their room yesterday. She’s gotten much better at pirouetting. It’s like the water dancers he used to watch as a child, whenever his father had them commissioned to perform at a party or feast. He spends half of his time playing his lute, while the other half glancing up and watching the lesson take place in front of him. Ciri dodges every strike Geralt lunges at her. She deflects every swing of a sparring sword. She doesn’t fall over or stumble, but roots her feet into the ground, like Lambert taught her to do before the snow came.

She twirls on one foot, bringing her sword around and deflecting another swing from Geralt. She grunts with the force of it. She ducks and weaves, a fierce look etching into her face with every step she has to take back to avoid getting hit with Geralt’s sparring sword.

Whether intentionally or not, Geralt makes a mistake. He draws back a bit too much for a swing, leaving his front open for attack. Ciri is quick. Before Geralt’s arm can go all the way back, drawing for an attack, Ciri lunges: jutting the edge of her sword into his chest. The point of it stops just shy of his body.

Geralt stands stock still. Arms splayed out on either side. A yield.

If it were a real fight, with real steel, she could just lunge forward and pierce Geralt’s chest. From where the tip of her sword is pointing, it’s aimed right at his heart. She could ever knick a lung on the way in.

And he’s not sure if the thought sits well with him or not. He’s proud of her. She’s learned so much over such a short space of time.

But every so often, something hits him in the stomach. The mortality of everything: Ciri is learning how to fight, but also how to protect herself. She needs to protect herself against people who would do her harm.

“Well done lassie,” Eskel calls out, shaking him from his thoughts.

Jaskier offers her a small smile when she glances over to them. “Very well done.”

He’s not going to sit here and say that it doesn’t make him feel some sort of pride to see her landing a strike – a deadly strike – to Geralt. Watching at how quickly excitement bubbles to the surface makes his heart swell: even when she tries to tame it, brushing some hair back behind her ear, and taking up her stance again. Geralt lifts his chin. “Best of three,” he says, lunging for her again.

Eskel nudges him with his foot. “I know that look,” he says softly, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

Jaskier looks down at the lute in his hands, at the strings his fingers gently pluck at. “It’s nothing.”

Eskel snorts. “Aye. And I’m king of a southern holdfast.” A quiet moment settles over them for a moment. Jaskier’s dimly aware of Eskel still staring at the side of his head. He ignores the Witcher, going back to strumming a few notes and jotting down words that come to mind. It’s all nonsense. The page will be ripped out and burned the second Eskel is gone.

The Witcher sets one of his swords to the side, tossing the whetstone on to a nearby table. “I had one too, you know,” he says after a time. He nods over to Ciri. “A child surprise.”

Jaskier flattens his hand over the lute’s strings, stopping their sound. “What?”

Eskel’s brow lifts. “Geralt never told you?”

He shakes his head.

Eskel sits back in his chair, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. The forge is nearby, spitting embers and warming their backs. “I got one just like Geralt did: by asking prompting magic I didn’t understand. I saved a knight once. He was in a spot of bother, and I helped him. He was so grateful, he said I could have whatever I wanted.” Eskel huffs a light laugh. “I didn’t want anything. Well, coin would have been useful. Or food, or a place to sleep for the night. But this knight was a noble of some hold west of the Kestrel Mountains. He was pretty fucking insistent that I ask for more. And I heard Vesemir asking for things before. The wording always struck me as odd.” He folds his arms over his chest. “Give me that which you find at home, yet do not expect. I want to find whatever god strung that sentence together and give them a clip ‘round the ear. What horseshit that line is. You could get anything from it: a bottle of milk, straight from the cow outside, to a fucking child.”

Jaskier lifts his chin. “Geralt was just as shocked as you,” he says slowly. “When he realised what he did. What he asked for.”

Eskel snorts. “I can only imagine.”

Ciri continues to dance around the other Witcher. Geralt lands a hit on her, brushing her shoulder with his sparring sword.

Eskel hums. “Though I think Geralt got off lucky with getting that girl,” he says lowly, leaning forward to settle his arms over his knees. “He could have done much worse.”

Jaskier frowns. “What do you mean?”

After a quiet moment, Eskel gestures to his face. A trident of scars runs down one side, from the crown of his head to the jut of his chin. They look old, long-since healed over, but stand out against the Witcher’s otherwise pale skin. “My surprise child. Deirdre. She had blood like wildfire, that one.”

Eskel looks out on to the courtyard, though his gaze doesn’t settle on anything specific. “She had a temper like nothing I’ve ever seen. She could be perfectly fine one moment, and brandishing a blade at you the next. I never blamed her for it. The second that girl was born underneath a black sun, everything had been against her.”

Jaskier looks down at the ground. Geralt told him a story many moons ago – how he got the name of the Butcher of Blaviken. A sorcerer Jaskier wishes he could kill himself, trying to hire Geralt to kill a girl on whispers of a prophecy.

“She lived here for a time,” Eskel continues, looking down at his hands. They’ve blackened from the coals of the forge. “I didn’t know where else to take her. But she lashed out one day, cut my face into what it is now, and disappeared. Haven’t heard from her since.”

Jaskier swallows. “How long ago was it?”

Eskel lifts a shoulder. “Couple of decades, I think. When your lifespan increases like ours, you tend to lose track of time.”

Jaskier hums. Another thud sounds from the arena. Glancing over, he offers a small smile to Ciri when she announces that she was able to hit Geralt again – in the abdomen this time.

“When I heard Geralt had managed to get saddled with a child surprise,” Eskel sighs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lip. “Gods, I would have given anything to have seen the look on his face. But now I see her, and how he is with her, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s what it’s meant to be like.”

“If it’s of any consolation,” Jaskier says quietly, “you’re part of her family too. All of you.”

Their training is called for the day. Ciri rushes over to the sheltered forge, slightly out of breath with small beads of sweat dotted over her forehead. “I finally beat Geralt,” she says, taking up a seat next to Jaskier when he frees up some space for her.

Jaskier presses a kiss to the crown of her head. “Good. Maybe you’ll be the one to finally beat some sense into him."

[c0ry-c0nvoluted]

READ THIS.

First off, everyone who isn’t too lazy to use their brains for something other than doing what they’re told should watch the video attached. But the only way you’ll get any benefit from it is if you’re stable enough to be objective. Remove yourself from yourself and just absorb and consider.

This video is 2 hours long. And you’ll find him (#DavidIcke) repeating his point throughout which can get trying, but it IS a valid point. That point being:

THIS IS WHAT THEY WANT.

They want us afraid and panicking and ready and willing to accept whatever aggressive measures are needed to alleviate our fear. In fact, they’ll have us pleading for these aggressive measure to be taken (that will continue well after the crisis) and then vilifying anyone who calls for our rights to freedom. “Oh, you don’t want to stay indoors? That means you don’t care about my grandma and you should be locked up.” And, “Oh, you don’t accept a mandatory vaccination because you don’t know what’s actually in it? Then you’re the monster who’s putting my children at risk and my family in danger and should be locked up.” We will all line up to shackle ourselves and everyone else around us if we’re panicked and afraid.

At the end of it all he suggests alleviating our fear of death in order to not allow ourselves to be manipulated. This is brilliant. But how do you do that? By changing your perspective on consciousness and realizing that human consciousness is not the only experience. That after we leave our bodies we move onto an entirely new form of infinite existence and consciousness, and that death is nothing but a change in perspective (and likely a fantastic one.) My opinion on this? I’ve always thought that our minds aren’t quite evolved enough to maintain consciousness as a form of energy without a body. But I meant that in the aspect of “I don’t think I will STILL BE ME.” But, considering this further, and seeing the benefits of adjusting my perspective, I realize now that, sure, I might not be me, but how is that a bad thing? I mean, even if there’s no consciousness at all, that’s STILL not a bad thing. And if there IS consciousness, it will be so much more vast and connected to the universe than it is right now trapped inside these fleshy mishaps of evolution, that the next existence may as well be called Heaven, regardless of the fact that I don’t believe in the Christian afterlife or their creation theory (or their God). And yes, it occurs to me that it’s not death we fear so much as the pain of dying. But most of that pain comes from the fear. I’d say that if you were NOT afraid to die, then you’d easily ease your suffering (while dying) by 50%, if not a whole hell of a lot more.

His ending note/concept is a bit difficult to wrap your brain around, and impossible for most (unfortunately), but for those who can grasp it, it’s fucking gold, man. It really helped ease my mind and is worth sticking around the entire interview for.

(This next part of these “Cliff Notes” is gonna get back into the “conspiracy” of it all.)

How often have you been repeatedly told to get your flu shot over the past 10 years? It’s everywhere, right? That repetition is a form of psychological manipulation. It’s gearing you up to get a vaccination that’s mandated. And that’s gearing you up for what will lead to voluntarily being ushered into a world where there are no more jobs so you’re dependent on “government” cheese, which is barely enough to survive so keeps you powerless, and you’re behavior is monitored and your “government credits” are at risk if you “behave improperly”. 

THEY ARE ALREADY DOING THIS IN CHINA TODAY USING FACIAL RECOGNITION A.I. TO MONITOR BEHAVIOR AND ADD OR SUBTRACT CREDITS ( which he discusses)

WE WILL BE NEXT.

And it’s all under the guise of “your government wants to help feed you in these terrible times but, for your safety, you will be monitored, and any negative behavior will result in penalties.” And what becomes “negative behavior”? Speaking out against the World Government. This has been written about for decades, if not longer, and has become such a scifi troupe that most believe that it’s just fantasy. But it started as a practical concept recognized by deep thinkers, seeing the inevitable outcome of a monetary society, and then was developed into stories told for entertainment. But ALSO for awareness.

  He may go a little too far for rational people when he acknowledges the possibility that #COVID19 might actually have been released purposely, but that’s not relevant because A PANDEMIC WAS INEVITABLE (because of how connected our global society is). And being inevitable, it is very easy to plan for that pandemic and manipulate our reactions to it so to push us all towards EXACTLY what they want:

TOTALITARIANISM

And if this pandemic isn’t bad enough to get us where they want us, the next one will be.

This is probably the point where, if you’ve made it this far, you’re gonna pull the Bullshit card and dismiss the whole rant. But here’s the thing:

The “conspiracy” of it all is IRRELEVANT. The fact remains that when you stand back and look at where we are headed you’ll clearly see (if you can think that far ahead, which, granted, 80% of our society is not intelligent enough to do, which is what makes this possible in the first place) that what he describes and how he describes it is in fact exactly what is happening. So whether it’s all a conspiracy or not doesn’t matter because the end result is the same. No, I’m not saying COVID-19 is a conspiracy. I believe it was just an inevitability, as mentioned above. But our reactions to it and what will happen now because of those reactions is (coincidentally?) pushing us toward the death of democracy AND THE DEATH OF OUR FREEDOM.

He goes on to point out that because this concept is so unfathomably evil we can’t possibly accept it to be true because, as far as we know, no such evil on such a grand scale can actually be real. It baffles the mind. IT MUST BE PARANOIA.

It isn’t. It’s, again, all part the inevitable outcome of a monetary based economy. How many times do we have to say this? The only outcome of a monetary based society is that eventually only one corporation will survive (even if they’re more than one at the end, they’re all working together as a conglomerate). And, in a monetary society, whoever controls all the money CONTROLS EVERYTHING.

David Icke doesn’t even touch on the money thing, which I was surprised by. He simply just puts the spotlight on "The Cult" that’s secretly manipulating our entire civilization toward the One World Government they need in order to control it all. He brings up the point of why are we locking everyone down if only the elderly and people with underlying health concerns are in danger? We should be locking THEM down (humanely) for their protection and letting everyone else go about their lives and get sick and then get over it like we always do and will. Admittedly, I’m not entirely sure about the end fatality rate, because we’re not there yet, but it makes sense that most of us, even if and when we contract it, will be absolutely fine. Granted, Americans are unhealthy as shit, so the mortality rate can end up being a bit rough, but it’s THE FEAR of that rate that allows them to sit back and let us hand over our freedom to them. THE FEAR is what will give #TheCult ultimate control over the world, and we will fucking hand it to them with praises while saying “thank you for saving us from these terrible times.”

As I was watching this, just after he mentioned that the goal is to get everyone on a government “credit-based behavioral-dependent income,” I got a news notification saying the motion was just passed to send out $1000 checks to American citizens.

Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

IT’S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW.

What the The Cult want is for all other companies to crash leaving them the only few left that have money/power, which makes it so none of us can challenge them because anytime anyone speaks out they’ll have their "government cheese" reduced and no one else will have enough of their own to lend them. THIS IS WHY MONEY NEEDS TO BE ABOLISHED ENTIRELY. I won’t get into the details of that here but, believe me, it CAN work and WILL make EVERYTHING INSURMOUNTABLY BETTER. But just to touch on HOW it would work:

TECHNOLOGY. Society will need to be automated so people will not HAVE to work for a living. But in order for that to happen all the world's governments would have to work together to create this automated society. This is the only POSITIVE outcome of what The Cult may be pursuing. If we're lucky, when whoever wins it all has decimated the entire world's economy, they may decide to create a new and better one that does in fact abolish money and automates society. But this would be a fucking miracle beyond fathoming because it would mean that the sociopaths who killed the world were actually doing it to save it.(But this discussion goes a little too deep into "not fucking likely, bro.".)

WHAT WE CAN DO NOW TO STOP THIS IS NOT LET FEAR ALLOW THEM TO CONTROL US, ULTIMATELY CAUSING US TO HAND OVER OUR FREEDOMS TO THEM.

And no, this is not the American government’s plan. It’s not the communist party’s plan. It’s not Trump or anyone else you see in the media. They are all pawns, puppets, unknowing means to ends and have no idea what’s really happening (or are possibly part of it, yes. But that’s not likely. It’s more likely they’re just be manipulated like the rest of us.)

Watch the interview attached.

Keep an open mind.

Do not be afraid.

Death is just a change in perspective.

OUR PERCEPTIONS ARE OUR REALITY. 

-cm

[saiilorstars]

Next Stop Everywhere

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: Female OC x 10th Doctor

(OC Face claim: Victoria Camacho)

// Story Masterlist // 

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Chapter 8: A Friend

Chapter summary: An alien masquerading as a friend nearly finishes off the world, just another casual trip for our travelling trio!

Author’s Note: Now before anyone comments on it, Rose using the name "Minerva" is done on purpose. It will be discussed in the next chapter!

"You would not believe the assignment I have," I groaned as I entered the apartment, "Oh..." I stopped when I saw the Doctor, Rose and Jackie sitting at the couch, "You're back again? Weird, you were just here last week," I threw my school bag on the floor,"I haven't even ate whatever the stuff was Mickey brought me. I don't care what he says, it doesn't look edible. Where is Mickey anyways?" I looked around, "Eating?" They remained quiet. "I just asked a question? Did he go home for clothes or...?" I waited but still I received no answered. I took a moment and studied their faces. "Wh-what happened?" My heart started picking up. "Doctor, don't tell me he's dead-"

"He's not," he assured, standing up, "He's perfectly fine and alive. In fact, I'd say he's pretty happy."

"Then where is he?" I asked, swallowing hard with a nerve-wrecking feel.

He sighed, reaching inside his coat and taking out an envelope. He handed it to me without a word. I looked at the envelope and him for a moment before taking it, knowing however happy Mickey apparently was, I wouldn't be.

Dear Minnie,

You're probably the only regret I have of staying here because I won't be able to say goodbye to you in person. I'll never give you a hug and a proper goodbye. And for that, I'm really sorry, please forgive me. I'll admit, this idea started out as an impulse but...then it became important for me to go through with it, because I really wanted to.

I'm in a parallel universe and I don't believe we'll ever talk to each other again, much less see each other. I am staying here by choice, and that's because I don't believe I have anything else in your world. Besides you, I'm pretty much on my own. Here, I have my grandmother whom I loved so much and had to bury in your world. But in this world, my new home, I still have her. And I know you'll understand me because of Isadora. If she had died in your world but you had the chance to stay in a world where she was alive, you would do it, right?

I know you'll be fine because you're with them. You're with Jackie and Rose and the Doctor. They'll take care of you or you'll take care of them. You don't need me. Just last week we spoke about Isadora and the rest, and my advice still stands. Talk to everyone, beginning with Rose and the Doctor. Tell them how you feel then go for the rest. Talk to them. I'm sure it'll do you good. I know it will.

Good bye my Minnie. I guess this Mickey has to find you in this world too. Wonder what you're like here? I hope you're not as stubborn too! Please take care of yourself, just like you always have. I'll miss you.

Love,

Mickey Smith.

I looked up, my tears hurriedly strolling down my face. I shook my head, as if denying this would help anyone.

The Doctor sighed, "Joy I'm so sorry-"

"No. That's not true...this isn't true," I started sniffling loudly, "Please tell me it's not! He can't be gone!"

"He chose to stay."

"Noo..." my voice cracked, "He just left...he was supposed to come back!"

"Joy we're really sorry," Rose stood up, "If he could've he would've returned to say goodbye but parallel universes are impossible to travel through."

"So I'm never gonna see him anymore? Possibly my best friend and he's gone now. Forever!" I threw the letter down and rushed to Rose's room, slamming the door and bursting into sobs.

The only person who knew every last detail about me was gone. And he'd never come back. If I thought I was alone before now it's really true. I wouldn't be able to talk to anyone now. Jackie was a fine woman, but she was like a mother. I needed a friend.

My best friend was gone. What would I do now?

~0~

"Joy, can I come in?" the Doctor was knocking on the door. With no answer, he slowly opened it. "I don't...I don't really have words for you..." he admitted, slowly approaching me by the bed and sitting down, "I wish I could comfort you but...there's nothing I could do to make you feel better and I'm sorry."

"Did he have fun?" I asked, keeping my head rested on a pillow. "Did you bring him to fantastic places?"

"Yeah, we had amazing times," he quickly said, sensing that'd make me feel knowing Mickey had had fun, "You saw how excited he was when we were going to leave."

I smiled, remembering it all, "Yeah..."

He sighed, "I'm sorry, Joy. I know how hard it is to say good bye to people you care about."

I looked at him, sitting up, "Thank you for bringing me the letter."

He smiled, handing me the letter I had thrown earlier. He took my hand, gripping it as he stared deeply into my eyes, even startling me with the sudden intense. "Joy, whenever you need me, you just call and I swear to you I will come. If it's four a.m and you need me, call and I will be here by 4:01. Do you understand?"

I blinked, replaying his words to make sure I had heard right, "But...why do you say that?"

"Huh?" He frowned, clearly not expecting that as a response.

But I mean really, after nearly a year of knowing him he'd never told me anything like that, much less given me that intense stare. "It's just out of character that's all..."

He sighed, seeming to struggle with something, "Before we left Mickey he said some words to me..."

My heart skipped a beat, my eyes wide as the thought of Mickey spilling everything to the Doctor came to mind. What if he had? No, no...the Doctor would have said something already...right?

"Joy, perhaps, I haven't been around very much but...you know I consider you my friend, right?"

I swallowed hard, gathering my courage for what would come next, "Doctor, what did Mickey tell you?"

He shook his head, faintly smiling, " It's not important. All you should know is that I'll be here when you need me. You and Rose are the two most important people in my life. My glimpse of happiness, I call both of you."

" You've never called me that..." I said quietly, looking down at my lap.

"...no, I guess I haven't," he said after a moment, as if realizing it as well. Good. "But you listen to me, Joy Souza, I care about you, I always have."

"R-Really?" My eyes watered up, never hearing so kind words from him like that.

"Oh Joy," he scooted closer, taking me into a hug.

I cried for Mickey and for his touching words. I supposed Mickey hadn't told him everything just something that'd get the Doctor's mind working towards the grand realization.

"And, sorry for being nosy but, we went through your bag and I happened to have found an assignment..." he began, pausing as I looked up, "...how about I help you with that?"

I knew exactly where he was going with this. A dim smile spread on my face, already accepting the offer. Right now, I just needed to get out of here.

~/~

"London 2012!" I exclaimed, walking excitedly down the streets, "30th Olympia!" I twirled around.

"Careful, you'll fall," the Doctor warned, "Tell us again why you wear heels to school?"

"Huh?" I immediately looked down and realized I was still in my school uniform, "Oh c'mon," I turned around to them, "You didn't even give me a chance to change."

"Well when I said 30th Olympia you didn't exactly give me the chance to tell you," he countered.

Rose laughed, "I like it. Wish they were that fashionable back when I was there."

"Hm," I crossed my arms, "I don't like this."

"Oh you look fine. We're in an amazing time, Joy," the Doctor walked up, "Forget about it."

"Yeah, you're in the brink of the Olympics," Rose joined us, linking arms.

"Exactly, I'm in London and in the middle of the streets during the Olympics...in my school uniform," I frowned.

"Oh just focus on your article will you?" The Doctor linked arms as well. "Make this the best damn article you've ever written."

Rose chuckled, "I still don't understand why'd you join the journalist club."

"Sarah Jane," I admitted, "She talks so much about it I figured I'd give it a try. And plus, this academy's got a well rounded club for it."

"No more public school?" She raised an eye brow.

"After the Krillitanes I said no. And thanks to the Doctor for pulling some strings, I got into an even better school."

"Least I could after blowing up your old one," he swayed his head.

"And I'm almost caught up now. I should be graduating by the end of the year."

"We'll be there front row," Rose nodded.

"You better be. I already reserved seats for you two and Jackie and Mick-" I stopped, my smile vanishing.

The two stared sadly at me, "You know, you're name's Joy, live up to it," the Doctor poked my arm.

"Yeah..."

"You know, fun fact, I was here for the last Olympics they had in London; Wembley 1948. I loved it so much," he began his rambles and I knew he was telling us this just so that I'd keep distracted.

Rose suddenly let go of my arm and stayed behind, looking at something. The Doctor didn't seem to notice as he continued leading us ahead.

"Now what was his name...?" He thought, "Mark...? John?...Maybe Mark? Legs like pipe cleaners but strong as a whippet."

I chuckled, "That's a good way to remember someone. I dread to think how you'll remember me," And truthfully I did. Would he even remember me?

"The annoying, clever girl who challenges me on everything I do and say," he teased.

I smiled, proudly, not accepting the tease, "Well, I don't know how clever I am but I do challenge you because you're wrong sometimes. And, if we're being descriptive, I'll remember you as the daft, ridiculous alien."

He stopped walking and thought about it for a moment, making me snigger at his expressions. "You don't really think I'm ridiculous, right?" He frowned.

'What if I do?" I crossed my arms, deciding to tease him for the moment.

"I wouldn't like it..." His gaze fell to the ground.

I slightly ducked and caught his gaze, "I also think you're a kind, funny man."

He smiled softly as I stood straight again, "Yeah?"

I nodded, "Yes."

"Well," he swayed his head as he pretended to think again, "That's okay I guess."

"Doctor? Minerva?" Rose cut in, and we glanced over to find her not so pleased.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

I could have sworn she gave me a quick glare before reverting to a smile. "I just thought you should come and see this." She gestured to a paper on the wall as we approached her.

There was a flyer of missing children, with no leads on either case.

"What's taking them?" I asked, still reading through the information.

"Snatching children from a thoroughly ordinary street like this. Why's it so cold...?" the Doctor looked around, "Is something reducing the temperature...?""

"It says they all went missing this week. Why would a person do something like this?"

"What makes you think it's a person?" The Doctor challenged.

A door opened, not far from us, and a woman was seen throwing out her recycling bag in front of her house. I noticed she was giving looks all around, like she was afraid. She quickly returned back in her house and shut the door.

"It's got the whole street wise scared," I remarked, "What could get-" But I saw the Doctor had already left and Rose right behind him.

I rolled my eyes, "Kind, funny and forgetful man," I mumbled as I hurried to catch them.

We stopped by a front yard with a mini-soccer goal on it. The Doctor stuck out his hand in front himself then knelt down and moved his hand around the grass.

It seemed strange to me and so it prompted for me to ask about it, "What are you-"

"Sh," He held up a finger.

I rolled my eyes and looked around. I noticed Rose was helping some people move a car on the street.

The Doctor giggling brought my attention back to him. "Tickles!" He exclaimed.

I made a face, "What are you-"

"What's your game?" A man suddenly approached us, not very happily.

Must be his house...

The Doctor struggled to come up with an answer as he got up from the grass, "My...um...Snakes and Ladders? Quite good at...Squash. Reasonable," the man only grew more irritated and the Doctor more nervous, "I'm...being facetious, aren't I?"

I nodded, "Annoyingly."

"What the hell do you think you're doing on my property?" The angry man advanced towards the Doctor.

"Woah, there," I cut in between the two, "We should calm down."

"Move aside, girl," he put a hand on my arm.

"Try anything and you'll have to learn how to eat with your feet," I snapped, pushing his hand away.

"We're police officers!" The Doctor pulled me back, "And I've got a badge and...and a car."

"This one is an officer?" The man looked at me.

"She's in training!" The Doctor flashed his psychic paper to the man. "It was either that or hair dresser."

"I still could make you look like a fashion disaster," I remarked, trying to follow with the lie.

"What are you two doing?" Rose joined us with a few other people.

"Are you officers?" A woman beside her asked.

"The police have knocked on every door but there's no clues or leads," came another neighbor.

"Look, kids run off sometimes, alright?" The man snapped, "That's what they do-"

"Dale Hixon in your garden, playing with your Tommy and then..." one of the women began, "Right in front of me he vanished. Like he was never there to begin with! There's no need to look ant further than this street. It's right here amongst us."

The Doctor looked from one to another, not quite following, "Why don't we-"

"Why don't we start with him?" A new woman pointed at one of the men with us. "There's been all sorts like him in this street, day and night!"

The accused man looked indignant at such an idea, "I'm fixing things up for the Olympics!"

"Taking an awful long time about it," snapped the man from the garden.

"I'm of the opinion that all we've gotta do is just-" the Doctor tried again but the arguments continued.

"What you just said is slander!"

"I don't care! It just makes sense!"

"I really think we need to just-" the Doctor tried once more but in vain.

"I want an apology from her!" The man pointed to the woman.

"Stop picking on him!" another woman yelled, "And stop pretending none of this is real!"

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" I screamed, making them all flinch, "Shut the hell up already!"

"Fingers on lips!" the Doctor yelled over me, "Now!" He placed his finger on his lips and prompted for all of us to do the same. Everyone slowly obeyed, even myself.

I sighed, "I feel like I'm a second gra-"

"Sh!" He gestured with his finger.

"But-"

"SH!"

I only made a small noise again before he did the same again. Eventually, he won and I was shut.

"Alright, in the last six days, three of your children have been stolen," the Doctor began, "Snatched out of thin air?"

"Erm...can I...?" One of the woman slowly removed her finger from her lips. When the Doctor nodded she went right ahead. "Look around you, this was a safe street 'til it came. It's not a person. I'll say it if no one else will. Maybe you're coppers or maybe you're not but I don't care. Can you please help us?"

And that was all we needed to hear before we quickly agreed.

The Doctor sent everyone home until further notice while he, Rose and I remained on the crabby man's front yard.

"Sorry you can't write your article," Rose said as the Doctor sniffed his way around the yard.

I shrugged, "It's alright."

"Now Joy, we'll help you with that article right after this," the Doctor called.

"Don't worry, I can always search it up on the internet...like a normal student would do."

It wasn't so much for the assignment I had joined the pair for the trip. I knew that if I was at home with Jackie, all I'd do was sulk over Mickey...like he was dead. And he wasn't. He was breathing and happy. I couldn't sulk over that. Yet, I miss him so much. I needed a distraction...

"Too bad you're not, though," the Doctor looked up. I mock glared. He stood straight and inhaled deeply, "Do you smell that? In the air?"

Rose and I sniffed the air and there was indeed something different in it.

"It smells like metal," I remarked.

The Doctor pointed, nodding. He walked past us towards the alleyway again, "So, Danny Edwards cycled in one end but never came out the other, " he explained and suddenly stopped walking, "There it is again!" He exclaimed, showing us the back of his hand, "Look at the hairs on the back of my manly hairy hand."

"There's that smell again," I made a face as I looked around, "Like a burnt fuse plug..."

"There's a residual energy in the spots where the kids vanishes. Whatever it was, it uses an awful lot of power to do this."

We continued walking down the streets. The Doctor started going ahead of Rose and I.

Rose suddenly turned for a cat. "Aren't you a beautiful boy?" She cooed, reaching down for it.

"Thanks! I'm experimenting with back-combing," The Doctor was quick to respond.

I giggled when he noticed Rose had meant the cat.

"Look Joy," Rose returned with the car in arms. I sneezed. "Isn't he beautiful?" I sneezed and I covered my mouth to sneeze again. "Are you okay?" She asked and the cat jumped off her arms.

"Yes-" I sneezed again.

Rose followed the cat towards a cardboard box, "Come here!"

I sneezed and sneezed, even making the Doctor turn. "Joy, what's the matter?" He walked over to me. He placed a hand over my shoulder but my continuous sneezing eventually shook it off.

"Doctor!" Rose called with an urgent tone.

I sneezed one final time again. The Doctor was in a struggle between who he should take care of first. With a hand, I motioned for him to go to Rose.

"Hold on, Joy," he said before running to Rose.

It's not like I needed him anyways; I was quite used to being on my own. And besides, I knew exactly things hadn't changed. I was on the trip for the assignment and distraction, not to be noticed...though it wouldn't hurt as usual.

I looked up to the sky and took a deep breath multiple times, "Stupid cats," I muttered. I could hear the Doctor rambling on to Rose about some iron residue but I couldn't make out the rest. My eyes felt watery and I knew it wouldn't stop unless I had my pills.

Too bad I was kind of far away from home.

"Alright, now what's wrong with you?" the Doctor returned.

"I'm fine now," I said with a scratchy voice.

"Are you sick?"

"It'll pass," I coughed, "Can we just get out of this spot, please? That would be a major help."

He nodded and led us down the street, "I sent Rose looking."

"What for?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"For anything, really. I don't know what we're dealing with."

"You know, that metal smell is kind of familiar..." I looked at him, "It's at the tip of my tongue but I can't say it."

"It'll come to you later. Are you feeling better now?"

I nodded, "Yeah, like I said, it'll pass. Although a glass of water could be some good use...and maybe a good distraction."

He chuckled, "I'm good at that!"

"I bet you are," I smiled, going ahead of him, "I think I'm smelling that scent again."

"I was talking to Rose about these little cakes, you know, cause I thought I saw some in the last street," he started to ramble as I sneezed more, "Did you ever hear have one of those little cakes with the crunchy ball bearings on top?"

I sneezed, and felt the scent getting stronger, "Actually..."

"No, but do you know those things?" He continued rambling and didn't listen. This was probably the first time he was talking to me about something he liked. That didn't happen too often. "Nobody else in this entire galaxy's ever even bothered to make edible ball bearings. Genius."

"Yes, but, I think-"

We heard a yell from our blonde companion and so we quickly rushed to go and help her. The Doctor arrived first and when I saw what she was being attacked by, I had to stop and process it.

"Stay still!" the Doctor instructed as he pointed his screwdriver at a ball of scribble. The ball stopped and dropped onto Rose's hands. "Are you okay?" He pulled her up.

"Yeah, cheers," Rose mumbled.

As they hugged, I stood watching with very much intrigue what Rose was holding in her hand. When they pulled back I quickly joined them and took the scribble ball from her.

"Hey!" She frowned but I ignored it and turned the ball over.

"I'll give you a fiver if you can tell me what the hell it is," the Doctor pointed, "Cause I haven't got the foggiest."

"Well, I can tell you you've just killed it," Rose shrugged.

"It was never living. Just animated by energy."

"And I assume it's the same one taking these people?" I asked, my eyes fixated on the ball.

"Correct."

"It's weird," I tilted my head, "I can tell you that this is familiar to me. But I don't know why," I looked up to them.

"Get out of here, you can't think it's familiar," Rose pointed at it, "It's not possible."

"I'm telling you!" I insisted, "It's like...I can't put my finger on it."

"You might be clever but not that much," she mumbled, making my eyes snap at her.

Had she really just said that? That was...rude. And I didn't see Cassandra anywhere which meant she wasn't possessed...

"Well, let's take this into the TARDIS then," the Doctor grabbed the ball and started walking, leaving us behind to have a sort of stare down.

"What?" She asked.

"You tell me," I said, my eyes half-wide as I turned away from her and followed the Doctor.

~0~

As the Doctor analyzed the ball, my mind racked itself for the word I was looking for to identify the similarity I had thought of between it.

"Get out of here!" the Doctor exclaimed as he read from the console's scanner.

"What it say?" Rose asked as he grabbed the ball again.

"Joy, by any chance, does this answer the word you were looking for?" He took out a pencil from his pocket and actually erased a part of the ball.

"Graphite!" I yelled immediately, pointing. "Same thing as a pencil!" I laughed excitedly and clapped my hands. "That's what I wanted to say!"

"You had it way before any of us," the Doctor smiled, handing me the ball to examine, "Maybe you should lead the trips."

"I would," I quickly approved the idea, "And I'll start by saying why make a scribble to attack people if that person or thing has enough power to create something much bigger and stronger? Thoughts, Doctor?" I glanced at him and smirked as he thought. Even Rose was thinking, although she still didn't seem happy and it was kind of getting to me honestly.

"I..." the Doctor said, clearly not having the answer, "Well..."

"It's like a child's drawing," I continued, turning the ball over, "When I made mistakes I'd scribble the heck out of the paper. I still do, actually."

"The girl," Rose suddenly said, her eyes widening.

"What girl?"

"Something about her gave me the creeps...even her own Mum looked scared of her," Rose continued, but to herself more than answering me.

"I don't know what has me more," the Doctor shook his head, "The fact that you figured this out before me," he pointed at me, "Or that you're actually deducting," he glanced to Rose.

"Actually, it's the fact I've done this more than once to you already," I leaned closer to him, smiling sweetly as he frowned at the revelation.

~0~

"Are you sure she'll let us in?" Rose asked as we approached the house of the little girl we had as suspect.

"Why wouldn't she?" the Doctor replied.

"Three strange people wanting to see someone's little girl? Yeah, I'd let them in," I said before knocking on the door.

For the first time, there was no response. The Doctor went ahead and knocked again, slightly louder than I had. A woman suddenly opened up.

"Hello! I'm the Doctor and this is Rose and Joy! Can we see your daughter?"

"No, you can't," the mother replied.

"Okay. Bye," the Doctor surprised me as he turned around and started walking away.

"...Why?" the mother suddenly questioned. The Doctor stopped and turned around. "Why do you want to see Chloe?"

"There's something interesting going on in this street and I just thought...well, we thought, she might like to give us a hand."

"Sorry to bother you," Rose caught on and began backing away.

"Yeah, we'll just let you get on with things...on your own. Bye again!" the Doctor waved.

"Wait!" the mother called, "Can you help her?" She looked so desperate now.

"Yes, I can."

"I'm Trish," the mother greeted as she brought us into the living room, "My daughter, Chloe, stays in her room most of the time. I try talking to her, but it's like speaking to a brick wall. She gives me nothing and just asks to be left alone."

"What about her dad?" I questioned.

"Died a year ago."

"I'm sorry," I said quickly said.

"You wouldn't be if you'd known him."

"Well let's go and say hi!" Rose exclaimed.

"I should check on her first..." Trish was hesitant, already backing for the staircase behind her, "She might be asleep."

"Why are you afraid of her?" the Doctor asked.

"I want you to know before you see her that she's really a great kid. Really, she is."

"I'm sure she is."

"She's never been in trouble at school and you should see her report from last year. All A's and B's."

"Can I use your loo?" Rose stood up. Trish nodded and Rose went off, giving us a slight nod as she walked for the stairs.

"She's in the choir!" Trish continued. "And she's singing in an old folks home. I just want you to know all these things because right now, she's not herself."

I heard some noises in the kitchen which drew me to go. I poked my head inside and saw a little girl by the fridge, which I assumed to be Chloe, "Hello," I waved. She turned around and drank from her glass. "I'm Joy Souza."

"I'm Chloe Webber."

"How are you doing?" I took a step forwards.

"I'm busy. I'm making something."

"I heard you draw some really neat things," I continued, hoping to make small talk, "You know, I draw too. I'd love to see your work...maybe even share ideas?"

"Joy?" the Doctor walked in with Trish.

"Just making a friend," I pointed to Chloe.

"Oh, hello there," he turned to her, "I'm the Doctor."

"Chloe Webber. I'm making something so I must go."

"Wait!" I exclaimed, "If you're drawing something, you wanna show us? We could give you pointers or something...?"

"They don't stop moaning," She suddenly said, looking straight ahead.

"Chloe..." Trish called.

"I try to help them but they don't stop moaning."

"Who don't?" the Doctor asked.

"We can be together," Chloe whispered.

"Sweetheart," Trish walked to her.

"Don't touch me Mum," Chloe snapped, making Trish freeze in her spot, "I'm busy," she spat then walked out.

"But I really wanted to see your drawings!" I called, rushing after her. "C'mon, Chloe!

"Doctor!" I heard Rose call from upstairs.

"Uh oh," I glanced back, "Doctor, Rose needs your help and fast!"

Like light speed, the Doctor went up the stairs with I, Chloe and Trish behind. We entered Chloe's bedroom and saw Rose staring to the closet.

"I'm coming to hurt you!" a roaring voice from the closet yelled.

The Doctor quickly shut the closet doors and turned to us.

"What was that?" I pointed.

"A drawing," Rose answered, "The face of a man."

"What face?" Trish went to reopen the doors.

"No!" Rose quickly barricaded the doors with her body, "Best not."

"What have you been drawing?" Trish demanded from Chloe.

"I drew him yesterday," Chloe replied, not seeming to be bothered by any of this.

"Who?"

"Dad."

Trish frowned, "But he's gone now. With all the lovely things in the world, why him?"

"I dream about him, staring at me."

"I thought we were putting him behind us. What's the matter with you?"

"We need to stay together."

Trish sighed, "Yes we do."

"No. Not you. Us," Chloe corrected, "We need to stay together and then it'll be alright."

"Trish, the drawings," Rose gestured to the wall covered with them, "Have you seen what drawings she can do?"

"Who gave you permission to come into her room? Get out of my house," Trish ordered, seeming angry.

"Tell us about the drawings, Chloe," the Doctor turned to us.

"I don't wanna hear any more of this."

"But that drawing of her dad," Rose insisted, "I heard a voice. He spoke."

"He's dead!" Trish snapped, "And those are kids pictures. Now get out!"

"Chloe has power. And she's using it to take children away. She's snatching them."

"Get out."

"Have you seen those drawings move?"

"I haven't seen anything."

"Yes you have," the Doctor slowly walked up to us, "Out of the corner of your eye."

"No," Trish stared him dead in the eye.

"You've dismissed it, because what choice do you have when you see something you can't possible explain? And if anyone mentions it, you get angry so it's never spoken of, ever ag-"

"She's a child," Trish reasoned.

"And you're terrified of her. But there's no one to turn to because who's gonna believe the things you see out of the corner of your eye? No one. Except me."

"Stop it!" I exclaimed, causing them to look at me. I knew my eyes were watery but I shook my head, hoping to get rid of them quick. "I don't like arguments in front of a child, okay? So either quit this and let us help, or take this down stairs away from Chloe," everyone remained quiet. I looked around, taking in a deep breath. "Now get out."

"Excuse me?" Trish raised an eye brow.

I glanced at her, my watery eyes making her shift uncomfortably. "I'm just gonna talk with her."

She sighed and nodded. My two companions however, did not seem very pleased.

"Joy, I don't think you do this," the Doctor said as Trish was walking out of the room.

"You don't get it. Neither does Rose. Only I do," I said quietly, rubbing one of my eyes.

"What's there to get?"

"Just go downstairs. I know what I'm doing," I snapped and gestured for the door. Chloe looked at me as the three walked out of the room. When Rose closed the door behind them I let out a big sigh. "Chloe..."

She walked towards her bed and sat down, "You're alone."

"I get it. I really do," I walked up to her, reaching for her desk chair and bringing it in front of her, "I know what it's like being afraid of a parent," I smiled faintly, holding up two fingers, "Try two," she stared at me with no response, "Mine never hit me though, I don't know about you..."

"I'm alone," She said, "But we can be together."

"Like...you don't have any friends?" I tried, "Because, I know how that I feels too. I don't really have much friends either...and the ones that I have right now, they don't even know my name," I sighed, "I had one best friend though, and he knew so me well, but..." I looked away, "He's gone now...so I feel alone again. Is that how you feel? Plain alone?"

"You are alone," she said, coldly, "Your people are gone."

'Yeah..." I faintly smiled, "...I have a lost some."

"We can be together."

"Yes, we can. Everyone can be," I agreed, "But, you have to tell me what's going on. I may not be much of a help but...one of the people I'm with...he can help you."

She pulled her legs up and crossed them. I believed that would be all I'd get out from her. Although I don't think I got much to start with. The door opened and I glanced to see the three coming back in.

"What did you do?" Trish quickly demanded.

"Nothing," I replied quietly, "Just talked."

"I think it's my turn," the Doctor walked to us.

I stood up and brought Chloe's desk chair back to her desk. I looked back and saw him placing his fingers on Chloe's temples. A few seconds later, she fell back on her bed with her eyes shut.

"I can't let him do this," Trish began walking to us.

I joined her and moved her back to where Rose was, "It's okay, just trust him."

"Now we can talk," the Doctor stood straight.

"I want Chloe. Wake her up. I want Chloe," Chloe was whispering but I didn't think it was her that was speaking.

"Who are you?" the Doctor asked.

"I want Chloe Webber!"

"What've you done?" Trish cried, frantically.

"What is it?" Rose asked.

"I'm speaking to you," the Doctor continued, walking around the bed, "The entity that is using this human child. I request parlez in compliance with the Shadow Proclamation."

"I don't care about shadows or parlez," snapped 'Chloe.'

"So what do you care about?" the Doctor asked.

"I want my friends."

"You're lonely, I know. Identify yourself."

"I am one of many. I travel with my brothers and sister. We take an endless journey. A thousand of your lifetimes. But now I am alone and I hate it. It's not fair and I hate it!"

"Name yourself!" the Doctor ordered.

"Isolus."

"Oh..." the Doctor breathed, "You're Isolus. Of course."

"Our journey began in the Deep Realms when we were a family," 'Chloe' began drawing on a paper beside her but not needing to open her eyes for it obviously.

"What's that?" I asked.

"The Isolus Mother, drifting in deep space. You see, she jettisons millions of fledgling spores; her children. The Isolus are empathic beings of intense emotion, but when they're cast off from their mother, their empathic link, their need for each other, is what sustains. They need to be together. They can't be alone." the Doctor looked to the drawing.

"Our journey is long," 'Chloe' continued.

"The Isolus children travel inside pods individually. They rid the heat and energy of solar tides. It takes thousands and thousands of years for them to grow up."

"Thousands of years just floating through space?" I raised an eye brow, "Don't they get bored?"

"We play," 'Chloe' answered my question.

"You just...play?"

"While they travel, they play games. They use their ionic power to literally create make-believe worlds in which to play."

"In flight entertainment," Rose remarked.

"Helps keep them happy. While they're happy, they can feed off each others love. Without it, they're lost."

"So they need love to survive," I smiled.

"One more thing we have in common," 'Chloe' spoke.

My smile faded, "Okay..."

"Why did you come to earth?" the Doctor inquired.

"We were too close," 'Chloe' began drawing on a new paper.

"That's a solar flare from your sun. Would've made a tidal wave of solar energy that scattered the Isolus pods," the Doctor studied the drawing.

"Only I fell to Earth. My brothers and sisters are left up there and I cannot reach them. So alone."

"Your pod crashed...where is it?" the Doctor asked.

"My pod was drawn to heat..." 'Chloe' answered, "And I was drawn to Chloe Webber. She was like me. Alone. She needed me and I her."

The Doctor stroked Chloe's head, "You empathized with her. You wanted to be with her because she was alone like you."

"I want my family. It's not fair."

"I understand," the Doctor nodded, "You wanna make a family but you can't stay in this child. It's wrong. You can't steal anymore friends for yourself."

"I am alone."

A sound from the wardrobe made us turn around, "I'm coming to hurt you," that same voice roared, "I'm coming."

"Trish, how do you calm her?" the Doctor asked rapidly as Chloe began jerking about. "When she has nightmares, what do you do?"

"I...I..." Trish hurried to her daughter, "I sing to her!"

"Then start singing!"

"Chloe...I'm coming," Chloe's dad warned, "Chloe...Chloe..."

Trish began singing to Chloe but the banging on the closet wouldn't stop. Slowly, it began to dissolve. Trish became in tears as she hugged her daughter. "He came to her because she was lonely..."

When everything became calm we left Chloe in her room, fast asleep. We walked downstairs to the living room where Trish began picking up every pencil lying about.

"I thought it was over..." She said, picking up a few pencils from the floor, "When Chloe's dad crashed the car, I thought we were free."

"Did you talk to her about it?" I asked.

"I didn't want to," Trish looked down.

"Trish, that's why Chloe feels so alone," I said, walking to where she stood, "If there's no one to speak to...you feel alone," I looked down, "No one to hear what you feel..."

"Her and the Isolus...two lonely kids who need each other. It's so desperate to be loved. It's used to a pretty big family," the Doctor said.

"So it's gonna keep pulling kids in," Rose shook her head.

I felt sad for the little creature. Maybe in a way, we were the same. But just like I got my help, so would it.

"We need to find that pod," I announced.

"But it crashed," Rose said, "Isn't it destroyed?"

"It's been sucking in all the heat it can," the Doctor reminded, "Hopefully that should keep it in a fit state to launch."

"Then let's go!" I exclaimed, rushing for the doors.

"It must be close. It should have a weak energy signature that the TARDIS can trace. Once we find it, we can stop the Isolus," the Doctor looked around the streets, "Let's get to work!" he rushed off.

"C'mon, Rose!" I pulled her away as she had gotten distracted with something.

We caught up with the Doctor and entered the TARDIS. As he worked, Rose and I fiddled around the console, not really having any other purpose for the moment. But, while she stood across from me around the console, I kept trying to think of a reason as to why she was suddenly so different around me. But I couldn't think of anything! I don't consider myself a white dove but I hadn't been rude or anything...

"You know, Joy, I'm impressed you knew the Isolus was lonely before it even said anything," the Doctor said as he worked, bringing me out of my thoughts, "Almost like you knew what it felt."

"Funny..." I said quietly, ignoring his eyes that were on me and silently questioning the reason.

"I knew it was lonely too. But, that's normal. I know what it's like to travel a long way on your own. But...you?"

"Well...that's...that's just coincidence."

"Is it?" he eyed me as he walked to the chair beside the console. Rose joined him and helped him with whatever he was building in his hands.

"Yes..."

"You know what I find very interesting?"

"What?"

"The way you ordered us out of Chloe's room like you owned the place. Impressed, don't get me wrong. But the way you looked at us...like we were doing something ungodly."

'I just don't like arguments in front of children."

""Did you have that around as a kid?" He asked.

"...no," I said quietly, "I've seen it but...no."

He didn't believe me, that was obvious but he let the subject go, "Well, hopefully with this thing, we can get the Isolus back home."

"If you ask me it sounds more like a tantrum," Rose shook her head.

"You were a kid, Rose." I reminded, faintly smiling.

"Yes! And I know what kids can be like. Right little...terrors."

The Doctor stood up and walked to the console, "Gum, please," he held out his hand to Rose.

She spit her gum into his hand which he then used on the device. "I've got cousins, and they can't have their on way. That's being part of a family."

"What about trying to understand them?" the Doctor asked, sticking the gum into the device.

"Easy for you to say," Rose walked to the chair, "You don't have kids."

"I was a dad once," he replied absently.

Rose dropped to the seat, eyes wide. "What did you say?"

I admit, I had to stop and process that one too. Of course, it didn't bother me as much as it did to Rose. I moved beside him and peered down at the device.

"I think we're here!" the Doctor exclaimed, "Now then, this Isolus doesn't want to conquer or destroy the world."

"It's just lonely and wants to get back home," I smiled.

"There's a lot of things you need to get across this universe," He continued, "Warp drive...wormhole refactors..."

I looked around and realized the idiot had missed a blinking, flashing screen. I pointed to it but he kept rambling on.

"You know the thing you need most of all? You need a hand to hold," he glanced over and saw my hand which he took into his with a big smile.

I giggled and pointed to the screen, "No, I meant look over there, you idiot."

"Oh..." He looked down to the screen, "It's the pod!"

"Is it in the street?"

"Yes!" he grabbed the device and ran to the doors.

I looked back at Rose, going to tell her we should follow but instead found her directly glaring at me. She stood up and marched up to me, thinking she'd probably do something but then pushed past me towards the doors. I turned around and watched her leave. I sighed and threw my head back, looking up to the ceiling, "You're alive," I gestured to the TARDIS, 'Can you tell me what I did?" There was a faint wheezing sound, causing me to chuckle, "Now if only I could understand you," I headed for the doors.

"So it's about two inches across. Dull grey, like a gulls egg. Very light," the Doctor was explaining when I had caught up.

"So the pods travel from sun to sun using heat?" I questioned, moving ahead of him. "And that's why it was attracted to a heated part around here?"

"Wouldn't that mean the pod needed just heat then?" Rose added, closely following me for some reason.

There was a crash behind and when we turned we saw the Doctor's device broken into pieces on the ground. What's worse, the Doctor had vanished!

"Doctor?" Rose called.

"Rose," I tugged on her arm, my finger pointing to the now-vanished TARDIS ahead.

"Oh no..." she whispered, "Brat tantrum," she muttered then dashed to the Webber's home.

We pounded on the door like our lives depended on it. Trish opened but didn't get a word out before Rose pushed past her to the stairs.

"It's okay! I've taken all the pencils off her!" Trish called after her.

"I don't think you did," I said, following Rose.

Rose burst into Chloe's room and ran to her desk, snatching Chloe's newest drawing.

"Leave me alone!" the Isolus now demanded, "I want to be with Chloe Webber! I love Chloe Webber!"

"You have to bring him back!" I exclaimed.

"No."

Rose let the paper go and grabbed Chloe's shoulders, "Don't you realize what you've done!?" She yelled, "He was the only one who could help you, now bring him back!"

"I love Chloe Webber."

"I know," Rose sighed, "I know..." She looked down to the paper and picked it up, "Doctor, if you can hear me, I'm gonna get you out of there. I'll find the pod," she looked up at us, "Don't leave her alone. I'm gonna go find the pod." she rushed out.

I sighed, looking at Chloe, "He was gonna help you."

"I could draw your people. Make you be together again."

"Can you just stop?" My voice broke, "No matter what you say or do will bring back my best friend or my family. Everyone's mad at me and I don't want to see them. So please, have pity on me and just stop," I walked out as well, close to tears again.

I sniffled quietly, wanting so bad to be alone myself. But I had to go and help Rose. I walked out and saw her speaking to one of the road workers. She was picking at the newly fixed pavement so I knew she was finding the pod.

"I found it!" She exclaimed, looking up, "Joy I found it!" I smiled as she rushed back, "Look," she held up her hands.

"That's great! C'mon!" I pulled her back inside.

"Trish! We've found it!" Rose exclaimed, "I don't know what to do with it but maybe the Isolus will just hop on board." Trish sat on the couch. "Hang on, I said not to leave her alone!" Rose's eyes widened.

My God. Em...what's going on here?

The TV suddenly became audible to our ears.

The worker Rose had taken the axe from came marching into the house. "I don't care if you've got Snow White and the Seven Dwarves buried under there, you don't go digging up-"

"Shut up Kel, and look!" Rose yelled and pointed at the TV.

The crowd has vanish! They're gone...everyone. Thousands of people have just gone. Uh...right in front of my eyes. But this is impossible!

"That stadium won't be enough," I shook my head, "The Isolus has four billion brothers and sisters. We're in trouble."

"Chloe!" Rose yelled, running for the stairs, "Chloe!"

We rushed up and found the door unable to open. "Chloe open up!" I pounded on the door. "We have your ship! We can send you home!"

"Chloe!?" Trish joined in.

"Back up you two," Rose instructed then with her axe, crashed down the door. She stuck her hand in the hole of the door and opened it for us.

As soon as we got inside, Chloe's 'Dad' was yelling from the closet. Chloe was busy drawing what looked like the planet on her wall!

"We've gotta stop her!" I pointed.

"If you stop Chloe Webber I will let him out," the Isolus warned as the closet doors rattled, "I cannot be alone. It's not fair."

"Look!" Rose held out her hands with the pod, "I've got your pod!"

"The pod is dead."

"It only needs heat!"

"It needs more than heat."

"It needs love," I whispered, "Doesn't it?"

Because when someone is or feels alone...all you need is love to remind you that you are never alone. Platonic or not, you need it.

"I don't..." Rose looked around, desperately, "I don't know..."

"But I do," I snatched the pod from her hands, "Because I understand," I looked at everyone for a moment. "And while I'm gone, you might want to check the drawings."

"Why?" Rose asked.

"Because I think they just moved," I nodded then rushed out. I looked around the street and saw a crowd at the end. "The torch was the symbol of hope, fortitude, courage...and love," I recited Sarah Jane's story, recalling the short story she had given to me as an example before taking the school's assignment, 'And that's exactly what I'm looking for." I smiled, dashing towards the crowd. I pushed myself towards the front of the crowd but was stopped by a policeman. "I've gotta get closer!"

"No way," he shook his head.

I groaned, "Moron!" He gave me a dirty look but I didn't care. The pod chirped in my hands and so I backed out from the crowd and turned my back on them. "You felt it, didn't you?" I asked it, bringing it closer to my mouth. "I understand you. Believe me. And here's my help: Feel the love," I whispered then threw the pod into the air. When I saw it rush to the torch, I jumped up and down in excitement. "Yes!"

One by one I saw all the children that had gone missing materialize on the street.

"Now then, where would that alien be?" I looked around, remembering where he had disappeared but not finding him. "But everything came back to life...all the drawings..." I started blinking rapidly with realization, "Hold up..." I turned around, "Everything came to life. Oh my god..." I ran back to the Webber's home as the thought of the closet returned to my head. I arrived but found the door shut. "Rose! Trish! Chloe!" I pounded on the door.

"The door is stuck!" Rose shouted, pounding on the door. "Where's the Doctor?"

"Uh..." I looked around, "He's not here..."

"WHAT?"

"Not important right now, sorry," I looked for another way in. I could hear Chloe's dad advancing to them.

"Help us!" Trish yelled, "Please!"

"It's not real!" I yelled, "Rose, tell them it's not real! It's just because they're so afraid of him! Rose!"

And she did. I could hear but I could also hear Chloe's Dad and he sounded much closer. Suddenly, I heard singing...? They were singing!

"Keep singing!" I yelled.

Boy I could really use Rose's axe right now.

When everything died down, the door finally opened and out came Rose.

"Are you okay?" I asked but her only answer was a silent nod.

She walked past me and into the streets, to which I assume she would be looking for the Doctor in. While we didn't work together, we had both went looking for the Doctor only to come up with nothing. We returned to the Webber's in defeat, hoping he'd be there instead.

"Nothing?" Trish asked when we returned.

I shook my head and took a seat on the couch, "Kinda hoping he'd turn up here..."

She smiled and turned the television on where the Olympics were being broadcasting again. Everyone had returned to the stadium and it was as if nothing had happened.

"Eighty thousand people, so where's the Doctor?" Rose whispered, "I need him."

I looked at her and saw she was almost going to cry, only adding to the tension we felt.

"Chloe?" I sighed, turning to her, "You think I can borrow a pen and a paper? I have to do some school work," she stood up and went for the things.

The torch bearer seems to be in a bit of trouble. We did see a flash of lightening earlier which seemed to strike him...um, maybe he's injured...he's definitely in trouble.

Definitely. He just collapsed.

Chloe returned with a pen and a journal. I smiled, taking it into my hands, "Thank you," I looked back to the TV as I placed the journal on my lap, "Guess I better get started."

Does this mean that Olympic Dream is dead?

"Joy, look," Chloe pointed. I looked up and saw the Doctor on the TV screen running with the torch in hand,"It's him!"

There's a mystery man, he's picked up the flame...we've no idea who he is...he's carrying the flame, yes! He's carrying the flame and no one wants to stop him!"

It's more than a flame now, Bob. It's more than heat and light.

"It's hope, courage and love," I smiled and looked down, beginning to write.

~0~

It was night by the time I had finished the article. The people were out in the streets, celebrating, including Rose who had been dragged out by Trish and Chloe. Once I had properly finished, I left the Webber's house and hurried into the streets to go find the TARDIS and type it up. Of course, at the whiff of a dessert, I had to stop and find its source. I found a table and saw it was filled with small cupcakes.

"Oh..." I said, taking a deep inhalation of their scents.

"You can have one," a woman said, coming up behind the table.

"Don't mind if I do," I grinned and took one of them off the table. I turned and began walking again, getting ready to take a big bite out of my dessert when I saw the Doctor across the street. "Hey!" I called, making him turn around. "You are in so much trouble you ridiculous alien!"

"Annoying, clever girl," he strolled right up.

I mock-glared for a minute before holding out my cupcake, "I might be those things but I listen to you."

Hopefully he'd start doing it as well...

He became ecstatic with it and took it right off my hand, "Top banana!"

I nodded, "Yup!" He took a big bite out of it, causing me to chuckle, "Do you like it?"

"Mm. I can't stress this enough. Ball bearings you can eat - masterpiece!" He exclaimed.

"Ridiculous, banana-loving alien."

"You have got to stop that," he mock glared and took another bite.

"Stop what?" I asked innocently.

"That," he pointed.

"I have done nothing except bring you your cupcake, so quiet." I said, pointing right back.

"What's that?" He looked down to my paper I held.

"It's my article," I waved the paper, "See?"

He took it from me and read it, "This is brilliant!"

I chuckled, "You think so? I wrote it in the heap of the moment!"

"You're an excellent writer, Joy!"

"Thanks, I dabble, I dabble."

"Do you also dabble in saving the world?"

"What?" I raised an eye brow.

"I know what you did. Once again, I owe you a thanks," he smiled.

"Thank you for bringing me here. Believe it or not, it actually did help me," I said quietly, "I hope Mickey lives a good life."

He nodded, "And he hopes the same for you," I swallowed, my eyes slightly becoming teary, "Oh, none of that," he pulled me for a hug which I immediately retreated to.

It reminded me of our last hug before he had taken Mickey along. He never did ask me what made me cry. But for that one split moment, I didn't think he was doing it to ignore me...he did it to avoid more pain. For once, he thought of me and did something to help. It wasn't the kind of help where he saves my life, but one that a friend would do...

"I'm gonna miss him," I sniffled and pulled back, "But I know he's going to be so happy and that makes me happy." I saw Rose coming up from across the street and looking directly at us. Wanting no problems, I backed away from him.

"What are you doing?" He frowned.

"Um...Rose," I pointed past him, "She's been kinda worried."

"Oh..." He glanced over his shoulder and she immediately smiled.

"I'm gonna go back to the TARDIS," I announced, "Have fun."

"Oh, Joy, wait," he grabbed my arm and pulled me back, "It's a night for celebration."

I looked at him then at Rose who's smile was faltering. Finally donning on me, I smiled, "I think I'll be better in the TARDIS," he didn't seem convinced as I released myself from his grasp, "I'll just wait over there," I turned around and walked towards the direction Rose was coming from, ignoring her glares, "Oh, Joy, you're such an idiot," I said to myself as I walked farther away.

She was jealous.

~0~

I was just about to open the TARDIS doors when Chloe came around and leaned against it with a smile, "Hey!"

I smiled and desisted from the doors, "Hello, feeling better now?"

She nodded, "I remember what you said back there...in my room."

"I said a lot of things, Chloe. Gonna have to be more specific."

"You said you were alone...like me."

It took a lot in me not to stop smiling for her sake, "But you're not. You're gonna make friends and be the great little girl you are!"

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You said you didn't have friends."

"Well, I have two," I corrected, but then I remembered Rose and thought I should reconsider the amount now.

"But they don't know you."

I sighed, "Maybe one day they will..."

"What's your name?"

"Joy."

"No, I want to be your friend. What's your name?" She grabbed my hand and looked up at me.

I smiled softly, touched by her gesture, "...Minerva."

She smiled back and gave my hand a small squeeze, "Thank you, Minerva."

[randomkposts]

Hello

I figured I should start with wall of quotes. Cause whynot

Quotes “It's hard to hate my prep team. They're such total idiots." - Katniss.”

“Here's some advice. Stay alive.” “The cat that Prim got hates me, I think partly because I tried to drown it.” “District 12: Where you can starve to death in safety.”“No. Now, shut up and eat your pears."

” It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death." "Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you will find in the arena. Say it's a gigantic cake-”“Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying.”

“Technically, I am unarmed. But no one should ever underestimate the harm that fingernails can do. Especially if the target is unprepared.”

"Well, leprechauns. You know they're not real, don't you?""Let us proceed under the assumption that the fairy folk do exist and that I am not a gibbering moron."

"I majored in Ancient History. You have your own page in the 'Criminally Insane' section."

"Really, Butler, I must begin choosing my business associates more carefully. Hardly a day goes by when we aren't the victims of some plot.""The punching is not helping my concentration, by the way.""Oh, brilliant. I must write that one down in my witty retorts book."

"The pixie is crazy! Give me your gun, Holly. I'm going to shoot him.""Excuse me, Captain. Are you two going to weep salty tears of admiration over a helmet all night, or do we have matters to discuss?"

"This is a well. You might think that there is something to it... But in fact it is just an ordinary well."

Woman in Ur : Hey, where are you four brats off to now? What...? You're going to go save the world...? Did you get hit on the head or something!?

Gilgamesh : Enough expository banter. It's time we fight like men. And ladies. And ladies who dress like men. For Gilgamesh...IT IS MORPHING TIME! Galuf : Bartz! Stop that! Bartz : But it's fun! poke, poke, poke... Bartz : Jumping Christmas!

Edgar : "That's Shadow! He'd slit his mama's throat for a nickel!" Kefka : "This is sickening! You sound like chapters from a self-help booklet! Prepare yourselves!" Locke : "Hey! Call me a TREASURE HUNTER, or I'll rip your lungs out!" Edgar : "If something were to happen to me, all the world's women would grieve!" Setzer : "My life is a chip in your pile. Ante up."

Yuffie : So! I saved the great Vincent Valentine! Do I get any thanks?

Squall : Right and wrong are not what separate us and our enemies. It's our different standpoints, our perspectives that separate us. Both sides blame one another. There's no good or bad side. Just two sides holding different views. Squall : I dreamt I was a moron...

Seifer : Great, I have one chicken-wuss and one kid who just entered puberty in my team! Squall : ...Whatever.

Auron: The red carpet has teeth. Auron: Outside the dream world, life can be harsh, even cruel, but it is life.

Rikku: Memories are nice, but that's all they are.

Kimahri: Pick spot. Shut up. Wait.

Rikku: Do you think we need a password? Paine: How about 'Kick..it's..ass' Paine : The hardest person to know is one's self.

Raogrimm: People are capable of kindness beyond angels, yet we also commit sins that would put a demon to shame... Lonely Chocobo: Warkkkkk!!! Gweh!!!! Warkkkk

Naja Salaheem : (After Abquhbah faints when he realizes that he's speaking to the empress) Nothing to be concerned about, Your Magnificence. Mercenaries are trained to sleep anywhere, anytime if the opportunity presents itself.

Lightning: Worst birthday ever. Lightning: It's not a question of can or can't. There are some things in life you just do. Lightning: We live to make the impossible possible! That is our focus!

White Mage: Hi. I was just wondering if you knew how much we've suffered because of you. Good day. [after finding the Falcon Rydia : It's not yours. Edge : That's okay, it would be happy to be used by us!

...That's General Leo.. He could be my friend if he weren't my enemy.

You think a minor thing like the end of the world was gonna do me in?

"What a cute doggy!' "Leave us. The dog eats strangers...'

This should be fun. When do we leave?

Read my lips - mercy is for wimps! There's a reason "oppose" rhymes with "dispose"...If they get in your way, kill them!I don't care for the appearance of this pitiful little hamlet... So burn it!!

Figaro Guard : Kefka's "One shy of a six pack!" Imperial soldier : I oppose peace! Narshe resident : Narshe is a neutral city.! We want no war here, but that %#$@& Empire won't listen! South Figaro Resident : We may be thieves, but at least we have goals in life!

Cyan: This is the Phantom Train. It carries the departed to the other side. Sabin : Wait! I don't want to go THERE!

Strago: Go to your room! Relm : I will not! What a fussy old man! Strago : Relm! Is that you, my dear? You're alive! Relm : Idiot! Of course I'm alive! Strago : Oh, I'm so happy..." Relm : Did you think I was gonna check out before you, old man? Strago : You're as foul mouthed as ever, bless your heart!

Shadow: I know what friendship is... and family...

"It's not my problem."

"Don't fight here! You'll ruin the flowers!" "I think they believe I have what it takes to be in SOLDIER!" "Mine is special. It's good for absolutely nothing!"

Don't need no appointment... This is a 'mergency! Anyone who don't wanna get their face bashed in better git outta the way!! "I've got the wrong person."

W-wait a second. I won't run or hide. Yes, I was a spy. I was hired by the Shinra. I couldn't help it. How 'bout if we continue like nothing ever happened?

Shut up! Sit your ass down in that chair and DRINK YOUR GODDAMN TEA!

This's gonna be a big splash. Hold on to your drawers, an' don't piss in 'em!!

Maybe God'd forgive an ugly shit like you, but I won't!

I don't know what the hell it is, but it's falling from the sky. Hmpf! It's not even an omen.

Hey, do you know who I am? I'm Cid—that's who the hell I am! Now just let me handle it!

I don't want to regret not having done something later.

I always thought this planet was so huge. But lookin' at it from space, I realized it's so small. We're just floatin' in the dark. ...kinda makes you feel powerless. On top of that it's got Sephiroth festerin' inside it like a sickness. That's why I say this planet's still a kid. A little kid sick and trembling in the middle of this huge universe. Someone's gotta protect it. Ya follow me? That someone is us.

We're busy runnin' back and forth! Even my bikini goddess would be pantin' about now!

Oh, GAWD! If I knew this was gonna happen, I would've taken rope escape lessons more seriously!!

Escape from a world of illusions... Hmph... I wonder which is better.

I know you want my help because I'm so good!

Cloud, put me in your party, so I can get off this ship. Cloud...sign this. It's a contract that says when the war is over, all the materia will belong to me.

The stars shine so bright, like glowing materia... reach up and grab one. GROSSNESS! Don't mess with me old man! You don't even have any Materia!

Citizens, unite! Come to the light, Mako energy. Power is truth. Shinra is the future. Real happiness can be found in obedience to the company People are ignorant. They'll feel better as long as someone is punished.

Godo : Go! Survive till the end! And return! With the Materia! Doctor in Mideel : You can see for yourself what things look like, but at least no one was seriously hurt. We're just very unhappy now. Junon soldier : I'm learning to be a delinquent soldier!! I just can't seem to get the hang of it! Reeve Tuesti : What may be a few to you was everything to those who died...

Barret : She ain't gonna show up. 'Least this time she didn't steal our materia. Guess we gotta be thankful for that. Yuffie : How could you say that!? I came all the way here after being seasick as a dog! I didn't go through all that just to have you guys have the best parts all to yourselves!

...A speech? Forget it. Cut the mic!

You're-going-to-like-me! You're-going-to-like-me! Did it work?

D-Do you have any...hot dogs left?

...The HELL! Man...Now this is what I call boring. This ain't right, man!

YOOOO!!! The HELL you doin'!!!?

I'm a pretty lucky guy. Hand in hand with two beautiful girls.

That is sooo vague!

Super-Duper-Mega-Bummer!!

Well, Zell was riding his T-Board in the hallways of Garden. He made a sharp turn and went straight into the woman's res...

Sharpshooters are loners by nature... We hone our instincts, pour our whole being in a single bullet. The pressure of the moment... An instant of tension... That's what... I have to face alone...

Well, fine then! We WILL have a good time!

Thanks for the support, but I never miss my target.

Well, we could skin this little guy and wear him as a disguise...

I say things that get a rise out of some people. Just don't let it bother you and we'll get along fine.

Ooh neato! A hole in the middle of no-where!

You've all heard this before. How life has infinite possibilities. I don't believe that one bit. There weren't many paths for me to choose. Sometimes, there would only be one. From the limited possibilities I faced, the choices I made have brought me this far. That's why I value the path I chose... I want to hold true to the path that HAD to be taken.

Let's just fire like crazy and make a big hole, BOOM!

...Speeding. Let's go arrest that student for violation of academy regulations. Listen up! Teamwork means staying out of my way. It's a Squad B rule.

This is the scene where you swear your undying hatred for me!

And so, Laguna runs for dear life. She got upset and put fruit jam in your shoes. You were almost in tears!

Fujin: DISTURBING.RAGE!SHOCK!GOOD. CONVENIENT.PERSUASION, USELESS. SEIZE!IGNORE.RUN!ELLONE? NOT HERE.FATIGUE POSSE... We are. We always will be. Because we're a posse, we want to help you. Whatever it takes to fulfill your dream, we're willing to do. But... You're being manipulated, Seifer. You've lost yourself and your dream. You're just eating out of someone's hand. We want the old you back! Since we can't get through to you, all we have now to rely on is Squall! It's sad... Sad that we only have Squall to rely on... Seifer! Are you still gonna keep goin'?

Big Sister: I can't wait until I meet a guy that I can scream at and exchange blows with!

Quistis : You're the squad leader. Good luck to you. Seifer : ...Instructor. I hate it when people wish me luck. Save those words for a bad student who needs them, eh? Quistis : Alright, then. Good luck, Seifer. Seifer : [to Fujin and Raijin] Add Instructor Trepe to the list. Zone : Our plan is to...Selphie : ...Blow it to smithereens with a rocket launcher!? Zone : [taken aback] ...Ahh...not quite... Rinoa : Oh, shut up! I made it like that on purpose. It represents my hatred towards Deling. Zell : Hatred, eh? Yeah...right. Selphie : It's one of the...ugliest things that I've ever seen in my life. You must really hate him.

You don't need a reason to help people.No cloud, nor squall shall hinder us!Piece of cake. I'm an escape artist.

In the end, it boils down to two simple choices. Either you do or you don't. You'd think with all the problems in this world, there'd be more answers. It's not fair... but that's the way things are. The choice is yours.

SON OF A SHOOPUFF!

Al Bhed is Al Bhed. Rikku is Rikku. Rikku swore to protect Yuna. And Rikku is not a liar. Kimahri can tell. So, she is a friend.

Why are you still here, sir? (pause as Auron looks at him) I beg your pardon. We Guado are keen to the scent of the Farplane.

Rikku : Did you...hit your head or something? Tidus : Um, you guys hit me. Rikku : Oh, right...do you remember anything before that?

Sometimes, when I got a lot on my mind, it just helps to go, "AAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Once Lady Yuna fixes her hair, we leave." "Guard your emotions first, then guard your summoner." "Ha! Legendary guardian? I was just a boy. A boy about your age actually. I wanted to change the world too, but I changed nothing. That is my story." "Don't look to others for knowledge. This is your story."

Don't think it's just a game. Your life's on the line. "You. It's what's for dinner." You. Are. Hired."

Barkeep : Mish Yoona, what can I do for yoo?

Yuna : Duck Soup! Paine : Duck what?

Rikku : I'm gonna kick you in the spleen! Paine : Spleen?

Lightning : (to soldier).Nice gun. Noctis : Goodbye, whoever you are.

You sure are a keen observer of the obvious, kupo!

And I know some "little girls" who can kick your butt!

"You hit the Lord of the Titans in the eye with a blue plastic hairbrush."

Rachel: They asked me a lot of questions about you. I played dumb. Annabeth: Was it hard?"

"Love conquers all," Aphrodite promised. "Look at Helen and Paris. Did they let anything come between them?""Didn't they start the Trojan War and get thousands of people killed?" "Pfft. That's not the point. Follow your heart."'

“Ever had a flying burrito hit you? Well, it's a deadly projectile, right up there with cannonballs and grenades." "The ADHD part of me wondered, off-task, whether the rest of his clothes were made the same way. What horrible things would you have to do in your life to get woven into Hades' underwear?"

Rachel: You're a half-blood, too? Annabeth: Shhh! Just announce it to the world, how about? Rachel: Okay. Hey, everybody! These two aren't human! They're half Greek god! . . . They don't seem to care."-

"What I did next was so impulsive and dangerous I should’ve been named ADHD poster child of the year."

“You're a stalker with hooves." "I am not! I followed her to the Big House and hid in a bush and watched the whole thing.”

Well, we kind of tried to kill each other in a duel to the death." "I see. You tried the diplomatic approach.”

"Well, Percy, what have we learned today?""That three-headed dogs prefer red rubber balls over sticks?""No," "We've learned that your plans really, really bite!”

"Dude!" said a party pony as he unloaded his gear. Did you see that bear guy? He was all like: 'Whoa, I have an arrow in my mouth!”

“Boys are usually forbidden to have any contact with the Hunters. The last one to see this camp…” She looked at Zoe. “Which one was it?”"That boy in Colorado,” Zoe said. “You turned him into a jackalope.”Ah, yes.” Artemis nodded, satisfied. “I enjoy making jackalopes…”

“Christmas in the Underworld was NOT my idea. If I'd known what was coming, I would've called in sick. I could've avoided an army of demons, a fight with a Titan, and a trick that almost got my friends and me cast into eternal darkness. But no, I had to take my stupid English exam.”

“Meat!" he said scornfully. "I'm a vegetarian." "You eat cheese enchiladas and aluminum cans," I reminded him."Those are vegetables.”

"How about this: stealing is not always bad?""I don't think my mom would like that moral."

I thought about the lines Rachel had spoken in that creepy voice: about storm and fire and the Doors of Death. "Maybe," I said, "but it didn't sound so good.""No," said Apollo cheerfully. "It certainly didn't. She's going to make a wonderful Oracle!”

"My son here convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies." He glanced at me with distaste. "As much as I dislike certain upstart demigods, it would not do for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on - it is that you were a TERRIBLE father.”

Running with a drowsy child of Hades was more like doing a 3 -legged race with a life size rag doll.”

“Yay!' he said. 'Now we can eat peanut butter sandwiches and ride fish ponies! We can fight monsters and see Annabeth and make things go BOOM!”

“You know how teachers tell you the magic word is 'please'? That's not true. The magic word is 'puke'. It will get you out of class faster than anything else.”

" He tossed me a jar of thick green liquid—Greek fire, one of the most dangerous magical substances in the world. Then he threw me another essential tool of demigod heroes—duct tape”

“Juniper: Are you guys busy? Percy: Well, we’re in the middle of this game against a bunch of monsters and we’re trying not to die. Annabeth: We’re not busy. ”

Though "peanut butter" is a strange battle cry. It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works."I am praying. I'm talking to you, right?"Oh . . . yes. Good point.”

“Let us find the dam snack bar," Zoe said. "We should eat while we can."Grover cracked a smile. "The dam snack bar?"Zoe blinked. "Yes. What is funny?""Nothing," Grover said, trying to keep a straight face. "I could use some dam french fries."Even Thalia smiled at that. "And I need to use the dam restroom." "I do not understand.""I want to use the dam water fountain," Grover said."And…" Thalia tried to catch her breath. "I want to buy a dam T-shirt."

"with great power... comes great need to take a nap"

“Oh no." I said panic rising in my chest. "No, no, no, Somebody get a can opener. I've got a god in my head!!”“Well," I said. "If you need me, I'll be outside, playing with sharp objects.”

“Fairness means everyone gets what they need. And the only way to get what you need is to make it happen yourself.”

“I guessed his name was Face of Horror. I wondered how long it had taken his mom to think of that. Bob? No. Sam? No. How about Face of Horror?”

“Now the tattoos," Zia announced."Brilliant!" I said."On your tongue," she added."Excuse me?”

“I just love family meetings. Very cozy, with the Christmas garlands round the fireplace and a nice pot of tea and a detective from Scotland Yard ready to arrest you.”

“Carter Kane, 14, died tragically in Paris when he was eaten by his sister’s cat Muffin.”

“There will be guards,” Bast said. “And traps. And alarms. You can bet the house is heavily charmed to keep out gods.” “Magicians can do that?” I asked. I imagined a big can of pesticide labeled God-Away.”

“I believe you, Sadie.""Oh really. I'm holding the bloody feather of truth, and you believe me. Well, thanks.”

I guess it started in London, the night our dad blew up the British museum.”

“The baboon is driving,” I noted. “Should I be worried?”

“Thank Ra!” She exclaimed. “Yeah, I’m alive.” “No, I almost jumped in after you. I hate the water!”

“Why did adults have to be so thick? They always say “tell the truth,” and when you do, they don’t believe you. What’s the point?”

“I must admit I’m impressed, Sadie. You controlled your magic and controlled Isis. And you, Carter, did well turning into a lizard.”

“That’s Narmer with the spoon,” I guessed. “Angry because the other bloke stole his breakfast cereal?”

“Most of Set’s forces were running towards our boat, screaming and throwing rocks (which tended to fall down and hit them, but no one says demons are bright).

"Great another mystery. I was about to suggest we ram Amos’s head against it and see if that worked.”

The stuff was so thick and rough, it made me wonder if the poor Egyptians had had to use toilet papyrus. If so, no wonder they walked sideways.”

“I looked back, but Bast and Sadie seemed fine. They were still staring at the water as if it were some amazing Internet video.”

. Why would someone display a rock? Aren't there enough of those in the world?”

“Dejardins was so stunned, he momentarily forgot how to speak English. "Ce n'est pas possible. On ne pourrait pas-”

[essekknits]

University FMA AU

Shoutout to @liquidstar , this monstrosity started because of your post about how Furey must have a podcast in any modern AU. I thank you so much.

Hohenheim is a famous chemistry professor who always lectures all around the world, so he’s never around. Trisha is a stay-at-home mum. Winry’s parents joined some program of doctors who fly around the world, to treat people in third world countries.

Trisha dies, as she does, in an outbreak of some sort. Winry’s parents die from some tropical disease around the same time. Since Hohenheim isn’t around and Trisha is dead, Ed and Al are put in a foster home. They get lucky, and their foster parents are a delightfully weird couple, a big, bulky man and a woman who looks so thin and small in comparison but in truth is quite well built. She’s also pretty ill.

Izumi and Sig love them as their own, and treat them well. Sig is gentle and quiet, supporting them silently and mostly showing his love and care with physical gestures, like rubbing their heads or hugging them. Izumi is tougher, sharp witted and tongued, but when they need her, she would always be there for them with a gentle word of advice, or just an understanding hug. She can never have biological children after going through a stillbirth that almost killed her.

Anyway, she homeschools Ed and Al, and because they’re quick learners and she’s a great teacher, they finish all their education very early. Winry is also homeschooled, as the small village they’re from doesn’t have much of a school, and Pinako couldn’t part with the only family she had left. So Winry, also an extremely fast learner, finishes her education at around the same speed, while also learning from her grandma who is a prosthetist, cause she fell in love with the professions she grew up around.

While Ed and Al were with Izumi, Ed got injured in his left leg. It got severely infected, and had to be cut off. While Al appeared to handle the loss of their mother as well as you can expect a child, the time Ed spent hospitalised and practically on the brink of death due to sepsis, on top of the not-so-resolved issues of his mother’s death, was a huge hit on his mental health. He spent long periods of time dissociating, even after Ed got better and wasn’t in danger. He got the therapy he needed, and all the support of his loving families, and is doing much better now. Ed got a prosthetic leg fitted for him by Pinako and Winry.

Ed and Al are still great friends with Winry, even though they don’t meet as much because they live pretty far from each other. They talk a lot on the phone, and also visit each other sometimes.

They take whatever exams they need to take to qualify as “I finished my high school education”, and apply to the same university. Ed and Al are going to study chamistry cause fuck their old man but they’re good at it, and Izumi taught them a bunch cause she studied it herself and loves the subject. Winry is studying to become a prosthetist, so she has a long way to go (she needs a master’s degree to actually practice).

Enter Roy. Roy is an assistant professor to professor Hawkeye. The professor is sick and old and looks kinda dead inside. Riza, his daughter, is definitely NOT studying chemistry, and seems to be fairly cold toward her father, but she hangs around the back of the class when she’s not busy. She’s a martial arts teacher, and also a competitive archer in her free time. And if you think the assistant professor doesn’t steal glances at her biceps when she’s wearing a tank top, you are sorely mistaken. They’ve been going circles around each other for years now, and everyone who knows them is just waiting for them to KISS ALREADY GOD DAMMIT STOP LOOKING AT EACH OTHER LIKE THAT OVER THE CLASS IT MAKES EVERYONE UNCOMFORTABLE.

Roy’s best friend Maes is doing his post doctorate in law. He married one of his old classmates, who is now a lawyer. He’s notorious for gushing over his family with anyone who would listen to him. Alex Louis Armstrong is an art student, and his older sister Olivier constantly calls him a wuss and a disgrace to the family because he’s been studying for years and not taking enough courses for her taste every year (she herself studies at a breakneck speed, and is one of the youngest professors in her chosen field, which I don’t know yet). Falman is a history student. Havoc is still “figuring himself out” and taking a bunch of seemingly disconnected courses. Breda is studying culinary. Furey studies communication, and as a hobby he has a podcast.

Now, he didn’t exactly know what he wants to do with his podcast, so he asked a Breda and Falman, who he knew before, to help him get interesting people for his podcast and they’ll see what they can do. So Farman talks to Havoc, who’s you’re “guy who knows a guy” type of person, so he talks to Riza about it, and she decides to bring Roy and Maes in on it. Maes decides that the two literal kids Roy’s been telling him about need to get a life outside of studying, so he invites them too. Ed doesn’t want to, but Winry forces him to, and comes with. Meanwhile, Breda asked Alex Armstrong, and he dragged two younger students, Dan and Maria, who are just really intimidated by how intense he is.

So Furey is going to the place he set to meet with Farman and Breda, thinking they’ll bring like two other people or something, and is met with a member of the faculty, that intimidating lady he saw around sometimes carrying a large bow, a dude with a comically long string of family photos, a giant muscle man with a magnificent moustache, three normal looking people, and three literal teenagers, one of which has a kickass steampunk-looking prosthetic leg. And also his two friends. Difinitely NOT what he expected, but... hey, you know what? He’snot going to complain. He asked for interesting people, and it looked like that’s EXACTLY what he got.

Somewhere along the line Ling (a foreign student studying chemistry just to satisfy his rich father so he’ll get some of the inheritance), along with his girlfriend Lan Fan and his half sister Mei (who actually LIKES chemistry and won’t let her older half brother outshine her) joined (Ling and Lan Fan were tailing Ed cause Ling needs help with the material, and Mei developed a not-so-subtle crush on Al). Olivier Armstrong also participated in one or two episodes, just because Roy dared her, and she actually likes Riza. Her two assistants, a mountain of a man called Buccaneer and an neat-looking man called Miles, shared a few anecdotes too. Scar is a refugee Winry’s parents treated before they died (he did NOT kill them here), and Mei just casually starts talking to that creepy tattooed dude who’s lurking around the place. He turns out to be a pretty okay dude.

Anyway, just... shenanigans ensue. This is a wacky group of young people messing around on a podcast. Sometimes they play a roleplaying game, DnD style, and the campaign is basically the series. The characters who don’t show up as often as the core crew are just people who can’t show up to every recording session because they’re falling behind in their studies. Tucker is based on the creepy biology professor who started interrogating Ed about his prosthetic for way too long and whose daughter just hung around the campus after school and he never payed attention to her (Ed almost beat Furey up after the Nina part of the campaign cause THAT WAS NOT COOL). Maes got his character killed off on purpose pretty early on. He discussed it with Furey up ahead, since he knew he’ll be working his ass off with his research, so he couldn’t really keep coming for recording for too long. Roy, being the drama queen he is, decided to on the spot make it his character’s life mission to discover who murdered his best friend and avenge his death. Scar is an NPC, based on the actual Scar since before they knew him, and the more they got to know him the more his redemption arc continued. (Winry and Mei spearhead that one, because they’re the ones who got to know him the most).

[tjkiahgb]

Episode Recap: 3.08, “I Got Your Number”

Let’s see if I still remember how to do this.

Wait. Nope. That’s not it.

One second.

The episode begins with Andi and Bex in their apartment. There we go.

Andi says Bex is using her charger because it has pink tape on it, but then Bex finds another charger and it also has pink tape on it.

Then Bowie jams his head through the still-unfixed giant hole in the wall.

Those bricks look like loose teeth. They’re going to fall out any second. The whole wall is going to come down and no one seems to care.

Bowie also has a charger with pink tape on it and Bex realizes Andi has put pink tape on all the chargers as a ploy to be able to seize any charger she sees for her own use.

I don’t know how Andi thought that plan was going to hold up for longer than a minute. Once Bex found another charger with pink tape on it, it was all over.

On the other hand, I’m glad she’s doing sneaky stuff like this. It’s like living with a little velociraptor. She’s clever and dangerous and always plotting something. It keeps Bex and Bowie on their toes and keeps their minds active, which is important as you start to age.

The next day, Buffy finds Andi at the Jefferson Middle School Machu Picchu.

She delivers her a handwritten invitation to hang out that weekend. It’s a bit extra, but I appreciate the effort.

Then Buffy says her plan is to watch a ton of bad dance-themed movies and reels off a list of films that -- and I did the math on this -- would take Andi and Buffy over 16 full hours to watch. It would basically be: wake up, watch nothing but dance movies the entire day, then go to bed.

Buffy calls it the “DanceDance Film Festival.”

I call it cruel and unusual punishment.

I’m pretty sure the Geneva Convention has rules against treating prisoners of war this way.

Watching 16 straight hours of dance movies sounds like something a conspiracy theorist barking up a wrong, dumb tree would do.

If I was trapped in a steel box for 16 hours and had nothing but a portable DVD player and the Step Up films, I’d spend my time trying to punch my way out of the steel box. (don’t @ me, Step Up fans)

Andi’s into the idea though, except she can’t do it because she already has plans for that night with Amber. Andi suggests they do it tonight, but Buffy has plans with Walker.

They decide to postpone this marathon of pain until another time and say they’ll plan out a future date for it. And then they both talk about how crazy it sounds for them to be making plans like some kind of lame adults or something.

20! Hah! Can you imagine? Can you even imagine??

*laughs and laughs and laughs until the laughter turns into tears and now I’m laughing and crying and I don’t know if I can stop* Help me.

Speaking of being old, Bex and Bowie read books on the couch. Bex asks Bowie to hold her foot which makes Bowie feel like they’re an elderly married couple. They swap visions about how cool it’d be to be unaware seniors.

Then Bowie tells Bex he could see her as a grandma...

...which is something I would never say to someone. I don’t care if she’s 100 and wearing a shirt that says “Ask me about my grandchildren!” You let them say they’re a grandma first, and then you always say something like, “You’re a grandma?? That’s crazy! I’d never have guessed!”

All this talk of being old freaks Bex and Bowie out and they decide to get out and have themselves a little romantic evening. The type only young folk have.

Over at one of Cyrus’s houses, Cyrus brings Jonah down to his stepdad’s man cave for some ping pong. Jonah is surprised Cyrus has a ping pong setup, but Cyrus says it’s because until recently his stepdad was using it for civil war reenactments.

Oh so they’ll let Cyrus imitate guns firing but they won’t let him say gay. Ok.

They start to play and Cyrus quickly goes up 3-0.

Suddenly, TJ comes waltzing down the stairs.

Who let him in? Do Cyrus’s parents know him? Does he have a key? Was he already in the house, stalking around like a cat? I like any and all of these possibilities.

Either way, he’s here now. Just in time to congratulate Cyrus on taking a 3-0 lead. He does this by saying, “Niceberg.”

Sorry. Hold up. I gotta rewind.

This’ll just take a second.

Ok. Be right with you.

Alright, just gonna put that in the mail and I’ll be right back.

Ok. Back.

Anyway, long story short, I don’t feel like “Niceberg” is gonna catch on the same way “Underdog” did.

Jonah’s mood immediately flips. He starts looking for any reason to get out of the basement.

Cyrus is like, if this is about the gun thing, we worked that out. Jonah’s like, it’s not about that. I couldn’t care less about that. I had the Metcalf tattoo thing and the Libby thing, I barely even know what happened.

Jonah storms out, leaving Cyrus and TJ in a metaphorical hole of confusion.

Also, like, a literal hole. Because that’s kind of what a basement is? A hole in the ground? I’m trying too hard to be poetic I think. You can’t force art.

Jonah retreats to Red Rooster Records. He wants to know why he wasn’t warned of this surprise TJ. Cyrus is like, I didn’t think I had to.

You’re universally liked and you universally like everyone back. You know, like a Golden Retriever.

Cyrus says TJ’s in between friends right now, what with TJ sending Reed and Lester up the river to Sing Sing to do 10 years hard time.

Jonah says he’ll never be friends with TJ. He says it’s a long and embarrassing story, though I imagine it’s nothing like the embarrassment Alfonso Mazzanti would feel if he saw his record was still sitting unpurchased in this ratty store.

Does no one in Shadyshade have an appreciation for opera anymore?!

Jonah says the story goes all the way back to little league and we get basically a Drunk History retelling of the Jonah/TJ fight, except Jonah’s obviously not drunk, he’s just Jonah, so, you know: Jonah History.

And the story is this: Jonah used to love baseball. He idolized Roberto Clemente. Now, I’m not going to argue Clemente isn’t an all-time great, but I do find it strange that this kid in Shadyside loved a player who spent his entire career in Pittsburgh and died some 40 years before Jonah was even born. Most kids just go with Derek Jeter, but to each his own I guess. Anyway, Jonah wanted a “21″ jersey to be like Clemente.

But before he got to wear it, it was nabbed by a young TJ, from way back before he changed the direction his hair parts.

This leads to an argument where young Jonah gets angwee.

Cyrus asks Jonah if he cried, but Jonah invokes the baseball law laid down by Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own: there’s no crying in baseball. Cyrus says that’s just a line from a movie, but since when did he become an expert on sports? Stay in your lane, Cyrus.

Jonah says the jersey thing led to a shoving match that got stopped by his dad (their coach) before it could get too far. Jonah took another jersey, but the emotional scars remained. He couldn’t take the pain of watching TJ playing in his number and Jonah would never play a real sport again, banished forever to a lifetime of frisbee.

Cyrus says Jonah has proclaimed multiple times that Ultimate Frisbee is a real sport, and Jonah’s like, “Yeah...”

...let’s stop lying to ourselves about what frisbee is.

Jonah thinks the whole grudge is stupid, but Cyrus feels that it’s clearly important to him and it’s part of what shaped him as a person, so it can’t be that stupid.

Cyrus wants to figure out why TJ did it. Jonah thinks it’s because he’s permanently mean. Cyrus is like, no, he isn’t. He just has resting mean face.

Jonah feels glad to have talked it out and says he’s ready to let it go, but Cyrus isn’t, more so for TJ’s sake than anyone else’s at this point, I assume.

That night, Andi and Amber walk through a parking lot. Amber asks about the Buffy/Walker situation, which Andi says is still a situation, although she’s feeling less strict about following the Girl Code’s laws to reacting to such situations. They discuss how there’s room for interpretation as far as the Girl Code goes. It’s not exactly the Ten Commandments chiseled into stone.

Andi suddenly realizes they’ve been walking a long time and have somehow found themselves deep in the warehouse district.

Amber leads Andi towards a warehouse party. Andi starts to get a little unsure about this whole thing. As they head for the entrance, a man with facial hair exits.

A man that does not shave on a regular basis is one of the best indicators of questionable behavior in the area. You know the old saying: clean faces, clean hearts.

Amber says it’s a high school party, but not to worry, because she’ll protect Andi. They head inside.

Guys. This high school party. I’m losing my mind. I feel like I could make 1000 gifs of the people dancing in this place. I’m not going to, but I could.

Because this party...

is a party...

for dweebs.

I mean, I get part of the problem. It’s Disney Channel. They aren’t allowed to really show anything, so nothing like underage drinking or whatever. You just have to assume it’s an intimidating party off-screen. Ok. Fine.

But maybe the costume designer could’ve put everyone in less floral prints?

There’s very little that’s intimidating about a floral print unless it’s being worn by some kind of iron fist island dictator.

Andi gets separated real quick from Amber and immediately begins to panic.

Bex and Bowie, meanwhile, take a romantic nighttime carriage ride through the park when they get a text from Andi about the warehouse party.

Bowie asks the carriage driver (conductor? horsier?) to take him to Andi.

I hope he understands these carriages are not taxis. I’m not even sure they’re really street legal.

Bex is surprised to find out Andi snuck off to a warehouse party, but Bowie says at least she came clean to them about it within minutes.

Bex wants to know if the carriage can go faster. Bowie stops the carriage instead and says he’s going to run all the way across town to the Meatpacking District to get their daughter.

Bex stops him and says he’s doing a great job as a dad. Really dadding it up. And then they make out again.

These two. They’re always making out. It’s like, get a room.

Bex sends him to find Andi and he takes off running as the carriage horsier sits in uncomfortable silence.

Bowie finds his way to the warehouse party and runs in with the pitch perfect energy of a dad come to take his teenage daughter away from a party.

Although, and I don’t want to harp on this too much again, but if I was Bowie and walked into this party and this was the first thing I saw...

...I’d breathe a big sigh of relief.

I’d be like, “Oh, thank God: dweebs. It’s a dweeb party. Phew.”

He quickly finds Andi and she asks him what took so long. They start to leave when Amber returns. She’s like, are you leaving? And Bowie’s like, you’re darn tootin’ she’s leaving! Amber tries to take the blame but Bowie says it was Andi’s decision and she’ll take responsibility for it. They leave together.

Outside, Andi thinks Bowie’s whole dad thing was an act, but it turns out he was actually very much in dad mode. He says her behavior has led him to not trust her at this moment and then he throws his hand over his mouth like he just called Andi an expletive by mistake.

Bowie and Andi are shocked by this sudden dad-ness.

Andi promises to never do this again, but Bowie isn’t listening because all he can hear is how much he just sounded like his father. He and Andi both see this as a big moment in their father/daughter relationship, and I guess that sort of releases any of the tension as it seems Bowie actually isn’t going to follow up on any of the punishment talk.

They head off. Bowie tells Andi to call Bex but before she can, Bex shows up in the carriage in the middle of this industrial parking lot like some kind of misplaced Disney Princess.

Andi realizes she’s ruined Bex and Bowie’s date night, but they forgive her and all ride off together.

At Cyrus’s house, Cyrus has brought TJ and Jonah back together to solve this little league thing. TJ thinks it’s crazy. Jonah wants to let it go but TJ doesn’t want Jonah going around rest of his life proclaiming him some kind of jersey thief.

At this point, I was kind of like, “Oh, I actually like TJ’s outfit here.”

But then I was like, “Hold on a second. Enhance.”

That’s a basketball hoop! This is a surprise basketball shirt outfit!

Dammit! I can’t believe how many basketball themed shirts he has in his closet.

Anyway, Cyrus pulls up a picture of the two in little league.

Both Jonah and TJ think this proves their point.

But then Cyrus confirms the jersey number is actually 21 and TJ realizes his dyscalculia has struck again.

He explains to Jonah he’s got a learning disability. That this whole thing has been something of a misunderstanding.

Jonah apologizes for holding onto this grudge for so long and for never thanking him for helping him when he was having a panic attack at the Bash Mitzvah.

TJ notes that everyone has struggles.

Cyrus notes his fear of flamingos, which is not the first thing I’d think of when it comes to him, but I don’t disagree. They have unnaturally thin legs.

I don’t trust them for one second.

Jonah and TJ fist bump to end the grudge.

That was such a great little scene. One, for tying up the TJ/Jonah loose end from the Bash Mitzvah, but two, for showing these characters’ growth. It’s nice to see these two, who had previously been so guarded, be able to discuss their mental health openly without fear or anger, and then support each other.

On the other hand, Jonah’s now told TJ about his anxiety before he’s told Andi about it. I guess she was always going to be the hardest one to tell, but uh... yeah...

Speaking of Andi, she shows up at Buffy’s house with a big ol’ bag of popcorn and a pretty sweet new impression.

She explains the party was no fun, but that Buffy is. She wants to hang with her and participate in her crazy film festival.

They start dancing the night away.

Buffy asks if they’ll still be doing this when they’re 20.

*laughs and cries until I’m suddenly scream-wailing into the night sky for some reason* I’m fine.

They dance and dance until the episode ends.

So I guess there really isn’t going to be any punishment if Bowie and Bex just let Andi go hang out with a friend that very night.

Unless they heard what Buffy’s plans were and decided that was punishment enough.

Sure it seems like fun now, but when she’s at hour 12 of this and the credits are rolling on Step Up 3D and then Buffy goes, “Awesome! Let’s watch it again!”, Andi’s going to be wishing she was grounded.

[sally-mun]

Episode 1: Breaking Up is Hard to Do

So back 100 years ago when this RP began, the scale was pretty small and I wasn’t thinking about what the rest of the world was doing at the time. When it came time for the scope to expand and we had to start thinking about other areas, I decided to default to some of the Archie status quos since we were already playing in an Archie-inspired universe anyway. Eventually this required the presence of the Acorns, so I went with the basics: Elias is king/high chair of the Acorn Council, Max is a rather discontent former king, Alicia is the former queen who mostly just looks after her husband (as he’s not the healthiest), and Sally still primarily works in the field. Most of the details weren’t greatly established at this point because, honestly, I didn’t care. When it comes to the Dark Ages of the comics, “details” translates to “shit that doesn’t make sense.”

Due to a bit of plot that I won’t be going into here, Hamlin (as some of you know, a key character in several of my RP arcs) takes an interest in Albion and starts making moves to more or less invade. For the most part he’s stymied by the rest of the council, and when that happens, typically the current monarch will tip the scale one way or another. Eventually, Elias comes out to make a decree (in my head there’s a specific balcony for this so the press can take note), which to the surprise of basically everyone is him giving his blessing to the motion to invade. However, ALL of his body language suggests that this isn’t what he really thinks. He gets to the point quickly and then retreats back inside without taking any questions.

This draws the attention of the Brotherhood, who know for a fact that this is 100% against Elias’ character. Thunderhawk in particular (who had the heaviest hand in raising him) is adamant that something is wrong and they need to look into it, so they approach Knuckles and Finitevus to get them access to Elias via a warp ring. They oblige and everyone steps into the castle, specifically in Elias’ chambers. They find him slumped in a chair and wrapped in a blanket, looking like he hasn’t slept or bathed in a few days. Thunderhawk is horrified and asks what’s going on, but for the most part Elias can’t even speak; he’s so on the edge of an emotional landslide that simply opening his mouth is enough to threaten a meltdown. The BH continue to coax him into explaining what’s going on, and after several attempts, Elias explains that Max is harshly pressuring him to allow the council to invade Albion. At this point Elias completely loses it and latches hold of Thunderhawk begging for his forgiveness. The BH all assure him that they aren’t holding this against him and they’ll help get to the bottom of it.

Side note, it’s worth reiterating here that Elias has a degree of internalized specism, which I’ve mentioned in another post ages ago. One side effect of being raised by the Brotherhood (aka some of the most arrogant people on the planet) is that he genuinely believes echidnas are better than other people. This is why it’s absolutely breaking his spirit that Max has forced him to condone something that is contrary to every fiber of his morality. He wouldn’t want the council staging an invasion in the first place, but to have the target be Albion is the worst case scenario.

Anyway, the fact that this “invasion” (they had another word for it so it wouldn’t sound so bad, but I forget what it was) is now in motion causes a huge division in the kingdom. Max is repeatedly pushing Elias to make more decrees to calm the masses and get everyone on board with this plan, and viciously berates him when he either refuses to comply, or when he does but puts in the most bare minimum effort that the decree has basically no effect. After a while, Elias really does reach his breaking point: He rejects his crown entirely and runs away with Megan and Alexis in the middle of the night, without telling ANYONE -- not even Sally -- that he plans to do so. As he would later explain, he would rather not be king at all than to be a king that causes suffering. He and his family essentially go off the grid for a while and make a very humble home back in Feral Forest.

With Elias missing, the Acorn Kingdom becomes even less stable. Sally falls back on her years of diplomatic training and tries to calm everyone down and give them some more solid leadership, but she’s repeatedly undermined by Max. He’s now taken to making decrees of his own again now that he’s currently the only crowned monarch (something he repeatedly rubs in Sally’s face) and makes a series of firm announcements that they WILL be moving in on Albion. Sally does what she can to explain that this isn’t going to help the divide that’s rapidly separating their people, but given that Max never takes her seriously and she’s so desperate for his approval, these discussions go nowhere.

Meanwhile, Sally is proven correct, as a large sect of their citizens feel that Max’s firm hand is just confirmation that their government isn’t listening to them. As the royal guard moves in on Albion, various protests break out across the Acorn Kingdom. These protests are met with severe backlash from those still trusting in Max and the Acorn Council. The two factions eventually come to be known as Nationalists (those loyal to their leaders and willing to trust that they know best) and the Separationists (those who are SO disenfranchised that they want an entirely new government, period). The bad blood continues to escalate until the factions are literally fighting each other; this is the period that I usually refer to as the Acorn civil war, as it literally resulted in carved out territories, groups attacking one another, steep escalation in what sort of weapons and tactics are being used, and a total failure of the government to get it under control.

Now, I’d like to take an aside for a moment and address the one family member we’ve only glossed over here and there: Queen Alicia. Part of the reason we haven’t heard from her much is because, well, she too has been pretty well beaten down by Max’s emotional abuse. She rarely speaks up and tends to make excuses for Max’s toxic behavior -- he’s in a lot of pain, he spent so long in the Void, he was raised to expect obedience, etc. No matter how far he goes, it seems as though she’s determined to smooth things out for him after the fact, which leads some to wonder if she can be trusted at this point, either.

However, if anyone in this family would be acutely aware of just how different Max had become over the years, it’s Alicia -- and honestly, I think that’s part of the problem here. I never really got to go into it, but I think she probably has some undiagnosed depression, because she knows that the man she once fell in love with is pretty much gone. The worse he gets, the worse she gets as well, and her will to stand up to him diminishes more and more over time. Eventually this begins affecting her physical health as well, and she ends up very weak, but still she sticks resolutely by his side and makes it her duty to take care of him, even when that means making excuses for inexcusable behavior.

In the end, a peaceful ceasefire was agreed upon, and that’s when the country split in two: the West Acorn Republic, still governed by the already established council, and the East Acorn Kingdom, which reverted back to the pure use of a monarchy. Acorn citizens had a window of time to choose which side of the border they wanted to live on, and then it was a done deal. Ironically, King Max -- the man who had abhorred the idea of the Acorn Council at its conception -- stayed behind in West Acorn with Alicia, largely because it was the site of the original Castle Acorn. Sally had been immediately petitioned by the citizens of East Acorn to be their queen, so unsurprisingly she moved on and finally got to put her years of training to use. Sometime later it was confirmed that Elias was living in Feral Forest, but he rejected any suggestion that he go back to either half of the former Acorn Kingdom.

Index | Next >> Support me on Patreon or Ko-Fi!

[solastia]

Kitten Addition | 3

Read This Part First: My Puppy [1] [2] [3]

Kitten Addition: [1] [2] 

Pairing: I’m just going to start saying Maknae Line x Reader

Word Count: 9,895 (That’s right. Almost 10k. This is the longest chapter of anything I’ve ever written, and it’s like 89% smut lol. You’re welcome)

Genre & Warnings: Y’all know the deal with the My Puppy universe fics. Lotso smut. Gentle Femdom. Bits of angst. So much fluff. Petplay, assplay, cumplay, if it can be played with it is. I played a little fast and loose with the law to suit my purposes, it doesn’t actually work this way in real life (I mean, Kihyun is an assassin, so he naturally plays by his own rules). 

Notes: If you’re still wondering who the Hekami corp CEO is, please read my Kihyun fic Shadow Song. That’s her story ;)

The cafe was blessedly slow today, with only a few other people sitting inside, leaving me in comfortable isolation in my little corner booth. It was Taehyung’s favorite place to get hot chocolate, so I requested a to go order with the barista for when I was finished here. Keeping my eye on the door, I signal for another refill on my coffee, sighing as yet another person comes in and they are not who I’m waiting for. Propping my chin in my hand, I smile in thanks as the barista silently filled my cup. The bell over the door jingles and I glance towards it, happy to find it’s finally my friend. 

Hekami Corporations CEO rushes towards me in all of her glory, her bright smile conveying her apologies, and an incredibly handsome man strolling behind her and intensely surveying the cafes inhabitants. Besides being one of the firms best clients, she was also a good friend that I’ve known since college. Something that I doubt Jungkook’s father was aware of when he decided to try to force this marriage along. 

“I’m sorry, so sorry. I know I’m late. We got...held up.” 

I quirk an eyebrow at her. “Yes, I can see that. Your lipstick is smudged, dear. And you, you missed a button.” I tell them, amused as my friend squeaks and brings out her hand mirror and the man looks over his shirt in confusion. 

“Wrong button, sweetheart.” I laugh as he gets my hint and Kihyun blushes as he zips and buttons his pants. 

“This is...umm...my bodyguard?” 

“Are you asking me if that’s who he is? Because I can tell you it’s not. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Yoo Kihyun. I’ve followed your career a bit. Very impressive.” I smirk and offer my hand for him to shake, which he accepts with a chuckle. 

“I told you she’d know, baby.” Kihyun turns to his pouting partner. 

“Just don’t say anything about him playing my bodyguard. I already explained that he can trust you.” 

“No problem, snickerdoodle.” 

“Thanks, Tater Tot.” 

“Those are the dumbest names of all time.” Kihyun sighs. “You are definitely not naming our children.” 

I giggle as my friend sputters and smacks Kihyun’s arm. 

“Who said we were having any, jackass?” 

“In her defense, they are not meant to be great. We just wanted best friend nicknames like the other girls in the sorority house, but we weren’t really those type of people, so we never really settled on anything. Now we just call each other different types of food. I think at one point we’d even gone through every hot sauce brand.” I explain with a fond grin, which she returns. 

“I assume Mr. Jeon has been pressuring you to make a decision?” I ask her as they get comfortable and order their drinks. 

She sighs and nods. “I told Lawyer Jeon when he first brought this to me that I wasn’t really into the idea of arranged marriages, not to mention the way he talked to me about it just gave me bad vibes. Like, I don’t know. It was shifty. Now I know why of course. I got more info on those bosses of yours than I’d ever thought possible, once I brought Kihyun in on the project. Look at these.” She pulls four hefty files out of her bag, all of them bursting with paper. “These guys are no joke, Y/N. I’m a little worried about them knowing you were involved in getting this information.” 

I accept the files and flick through them, disgust over their actions filling me with fury the more I read. Dread as I realize I’m going to have to tell the boys just what their fathers have been up to. I rub my temple as I feel a headache coming on and sigh wearily as I slip the files into my own bag. 

“I had expected a couple of affairs, maybe skimming a bit. But this…”

“Y/N, this is the kind of stuff that I deal with. Do you want me to deal with it?” Kihyun asks softly. If only he knew just how aware I was of how he deals with things. 

“If you can go after everyone else associated with this stuff besides these three lawyers, you can do as you wish. I know it sounds wrong and selfish, but I don’t want my boys to suffer more than they have to. If this were to get out, they wouldn’t be upset about their fathers getting arrested, but no one would hire them after. They’d become the sons of criminals, and I don’t want that for them. Is that...is that bad of me? It’s unethical, right?” 

“Is it unethical to care about the ones you love? It makes me twitchy thinking about them being free, but since they only helped I can make myself feel better by going after the ones doing the actual crimes. You’re certain these men won’t fight back?” Kihyun asks gently. 

“Yeah. They might make a fuss, but I think they’ll do as I ask. Mr. Jeon is always going on about how everything he does is for Jungkook’s future, so I doubt he’d do anything to endanger it. I knew Tae’s dad was an ass, but I didn’t know it was this bad. I don’t think he’ll fight me either since Taehyung is his only child. It didn’t look like Jimin’s dad was mentioned in the files much, so he probably isn’t as bad, but I’m sure he had to at least know what was going on and didn’t stop it. Thank you for doing this.” 

“You’re welcome, Gummi Bear. I know we don’t get to hang out as much since we are now stuffy suits, but I’m still here for you. Speaking of, I need to know more about this boy situation, because it sounds like you have three of the country’s hottest bachelors at your feet and damn girl.” 

“Excuse me, I’m right here, you know.” Kihyun playfully pouts as she reaches over and pats his cheek comfortingly. 

“We’ll have a dinner date when everything calms down on both of our sides because I also need to know why Yoo Kihyun is pretending to be your bodyguard.” I stand up and wink at him as I slip my bag over my shoulders before reaching over and giving her a tight hug. 

I glare at Kihyun and make him promise to take care of my friend and try not to get her involved in things she shouldn’t be. Judging by the sliver of surprise in his gaze as he did so, he seemed to understand my message. I wave to the both of them as I pick up my order of hot chocolates and leave, dread filling my stomach as I make my way home. 

───

The files seem to be increasing in weight as I get closer to the door of my home, feeling almost like I was walking with a bag full of bricks. I really did not want to have to be the one to let them know what kind of people their fathers really were. I also was dreading the slight possibility that they might already know. How would I deal with it if Tae knew about all of his dad’s extracurricular activities and kept silent? Whatever happened, it was time to let them know what I’d been up to. 

I enter as quietly as I can and tiptoe to the living room, following the sounds of the entertainment center being used. I lean against the entryway and smile a little as I watch Taehyung and Jimin cuddling and giggling over the anime they were watching. They were both bundled up comfortably; Tae in a huge red hoodie and Jimin in a fluffy cerulean sweater that was probably three sizes too large. The both of them looked like cuteness personified. Taehyung finally noticed me and smiled widely, reaching over the back of the couch to make grabby hands at me. 

“Y/N! I didn’t hear you come home. I missed you! Cuddles.” 

I chuckle and set the drinks down before slotting myself in the middle and letting them drape themselves all over me. Jimin gives me a soft peck before laying his head on my shoulder. I thread my fingers through his hair and grin down at him. 

“How you manage to look and sound like such an innocent little cinnamon roll when you are the complete opposite is beyond me.” 

“Mmm, part of my charms,” he practically purrs into my neck. 

Taehyung grabs my chin and brings me up for a kiss, grinning as I pout when he pulls away. 

“Hey there beautiful,” his deep voice murmurs into my ear. I barely stop him from trying to nip at my neck, knowing exactly where he was trying to take this. We had some things to discuss first. 

I gesture towards the hot chocolates that they both reach for excitedly. Taehyung takes a big gulp, sighing in satisfaction. He reaches forward to grab one for me before he stops, observing the cup holder with a frown. 

“Why are there four?” 

I glance at my watch and countdown before answering. Exactly ten seconds later the doorbell rings. 

“We have a guest,” I finally respond as I go to answer the door. 

A sheepish Jungkook walks inside as I hear the shocked gasps behind me. I quickly squeeze his hand before taking his jacket and letting Jungkook walk into the living room before me. 

“Jungkook? But...I thought it wasn’t safe for him to be here?” Jimin practically whispers as his eyes are glued on Jungkook. 

“It doesn’t matter now. If anyone tried to do something about it, we have all the ammunition we need to shut it down,” I tell them as I grab Jungkook’s hand and lead him into sitting on the couch next to Jimin.

“Hey, baby. Can I...have a hug?” Jungkook asks trepidly, the both of them fighting off tears. It had been a long few months for the two of them. They had gone from being inseparable for years to only being able to have professional contact at work. I could only imagine how they must feel.

Jimin finally broke, flinging himself into Jungkook’s waiting arms.“I missed you so much!” Jimin sobbed silently into Jungkook’s chest as the other rubbed soothing circles into his back. 

“I missed you too,” he said quietly into Jimin’s hair. 

I sat next to Taehyung as I watched, letting him bring my hand up for a kiss as he smiled at me fondly. I let the two of them talk quietly together for a bit as I snuggled with Taehyung, letting them get some happiness before I had to deliver the news. 

Sighing wearily, I lean forward and clear my throat, handing Jungkook his hot chocolate while trying to think of the best way to let them know. 

“I have something I have to talk about with all of you, that’s part of why Jungkook is here.” I go get the files out of my bag and hand them to Taehyung. “Here, take a look.”

As Taehyung flips through them, the other two scoot closer to look over his shoulder while I explain.

“I had a meeting today with the Hekami Corp CEO. She’s actually a good friend of mine from college and agreed to do some investigating. We figured if she got caught then she would have a plausible excuse since it would be normal for her to want to look into things before agreeing to the marriage. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting much. Maybe an affair or something so we could either guilt trip Jungkook’s dad into backing off or blackmail if we were desperate. After reading these files, I want them out of the firm completely. Convince them it’s in their best interests to retire.” 

I glance over their faces, trying to gauge the mood. Taehyung’s is completely blank, Jimin looks miserable, and Jungkook is just plain furious. 

“This...this is terrible. I knew he an ass, but he’s actually aiding criminals. Kim is in on it too. Doesn’t seem like Park is, but there’s no way he could have not known something,” Jungkook shouts, waving his hands around in his anger. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave it up to you guys to decide what you want to do with this information. I know the lawful good reaction would be turning them in, but that would leave us with a tainted reputation and eventually all of our clients would leave. We’d be known for associating with criminals, probably suspected ourselves, and everyone in our firm would end up jobless. If you really wanted to do this perfectly by the book, we can. I will be with you every step of the way and I’m sure with our combined savings we can start again somewhere.” I look them over as I explain, observing as Jungkook clenches his fists to keep himself calm. I could practically see the raincloud above Jimin. 

“I have a...friend...that is looking into punishing all the people that your fathers were working with, so it’s not like everyone is going to get away with it. My suggestion is to meet with all three of them and suggest they retire and leave the firm in your hands. Perhaps we can have them be put on house arrest quietly in exchange for their testimonies. I can have my friend keep tabs on their activity to make sure they stay clean. ” 

Taehyung finally speaks, although it’s so low and filled with anger. I’d never heard this tone from him before, and I hope I never do again. “I’d rather have them rot in jail, but I understand what you mean. We’d be as good as blacklisted. No one would want to have us work for them if there was a chance of us being into the same shit. Your friend can legally get them put on house arrest?” 

“If they agree to rat out everyone they were working with, yeah. It’s just a matter of getting them to do so without a fight.” 

“They’ll go. They wouldn’t want to hurt their precious legacy.” Jungkook angrily scoffs as he ruffles his hair anxiously.  

“We’ll call for a meeting tomorrow and have them sit down with us and my friends that are helping. Let them know it’s either house arrest and retirement or we’ll do this publicly. I’m sorry,” I tell them, looking them all over, my heart breaking as I take in their sorrow. 

“Not your fault, sweetheart,” Taehyung sighs and brings me into his side, rubbing his head against my neck in an attempt for comfort. 

 “I think for now we should get some rest. It’s been a long day for me, and I’m sure you guys are emotionally drained right now. Jungkook, you’re free to stay over if you’d like.” 

Jungkook shakes his head and stands up after giving Jimin a kiss. “Not tonight. My head is a mess, and I need to figure some stuff out. No promises about tomorrow though,” He winks, and Jimin escorts him to the door, giving him one last hug before he leaves. 

Jimin sighs as he comes back to the couch and cuddles on the other side of me. “I can’t believe even my dad was doing all this. Well, maybe not doing it, but he didn’t stop them. I always thought he was so nice. I even asked him to help with Jungkook and me, and he said he’d do what he could. Apparently, that’s nothing.” 

“I’m sorry, baby. None of you deserve this. I’m so sorry you have to deal with this.” I croon as I try to comfort him, holding him close and kissing his neck softly. Taehyung grabs both of our hands and leads us to the bedroom, closing the door behind us to block out the rest of the world. 

───

We find ourselves in the familiar boardroom the next day, waiting for their fathers to show up. I had messaged them the moment I had woken up and requested for the three of them to attend because there was an issue. I hadn’t left any hints as to what, hoping to catch them off guard. Besides the four of us, my friend and Kihyun were also attending, promising to be witnesses in case anything went wrong. Kihyun also needed to record the meeting so he’d be able to bring in his detective friend and get a warrant. 

About ten minutes after I’d told them to be here, the three lawyers sauntered into the room. Mr. Jeon merely raised an eyebrow at the appearance of the Hekami CEO, not even bothering to acknowledge Kihyun’s presence. 

“Well, what’s the issue? I’m meeting a client in twenty minutes, so whatever it is, this needs to be quick. I’m assuming it’s something about the marriage since she’s here. Although I don’t understand what couldn’t be discussed over the phone,” he stated coldly, dropping into his chair with an unbothered air that rubbed me wrong now that I knew what he’s been up to. To think I had spent years trying to impress this man. 

I looked them over silently for a moment. Jeon and Kim sat there with their usual arrogant airs, making sure that I saw them glancing at their watches and frowning at their own children. Jimin’s dad was someone I had always liked because he’d seemed to keep a humble attitude despite his high profile job. He was taking the time to shake my friend and Kihyun’s hands before sitting down, patting Jimin’s shoulder in a friendly manner. I almost hated that I was about to take him down with the other two, but he’d proven untrustworthy as well. 

My friend cleared her throat, glancing at Mr. Jeon with an almost amused expression. “The issue, Lawyer Jeon, is that while I was doing the necessary research anyone would do before agreeing to an arranged marriage, I came across some pretty interesting info. Do you want to guess what it is?” 

“I don’t have time for guessing games. Did you expect more money or something? What’s the problem? Jungkook’s going to take over after me, so you’ll have plenty coming in from him,” Mr. Jeon says impatiently, waving as if the dismiss us all. 

“The problem is not about more money. It’s about where you’ve been getting the money. I’m well aware this firm is one of the top in the country, and you all make quite a good amount. However, the numbers didn’t quite add up, so we did some digging. You guys have been busy,” she chuckles as she throws the files onto the table in front of them. Mr. Jeon’s confident manner was slowly crumbling, although you could see where Jungkook got his stubbornness from as the older man was refusing to show any sign of worry. Kim was swallowing hard as he stared at the files as though they would jump up and bite him. Poor Mr. Park was already hanging his head in shame. 

“In fact,” she continued, as she leaned forward and pressed her hands together as she observed the lawyers,“I have quite an impressive list of hobbies you’ve all been up to with your special clients. Let’s see: fraud, bribery, insider trading, labor racketeering, embezzlement, cybercrime, copyright infringement, money laundering, identity theft, and forgery. Regular white collar master criminals.”

“You have proof beyond these papers? Because I can assure you that these alone wouldn’t stand up in court. Y/N here is a lawyer that could fabricate these with incredible ease. How do we know that she’s not simply trying to take over the firm by helping you, hmm?” Mr. Jeon sneers in my direction, trying to intimidate me with his glare. He obviously doesn’t know me as well as I thought he did if he assumed that I would go down that easy. I meet his scowl head-on, quirking an eyebrow as I lean back in my chair. 

“Mr. Jeon, we are trying to take care of this in a way that won’t destroy the firm or the boys. You worked hard to get to where you are, but somewhere along the way, you let your power go to your head. Now you’ve put not only the firm at risk but Jungkook’s very livelihood. The legacy that you spend so much time preaching to him about is going to be destroyed by your very hand. You recognize Yoo Kihyun, don’t you? I’ve brought him in to help us find a way to take care of this without destroying their lives.” I gesture to Kihyun as I explain, Mr. Jeon finally taking the time to look at him in shock. He was caught, and he knew it. Yoo Kihyun was the best Prosecuting Attorney in the city, probably the country. No one escaped him. 

 Kihyun smirks as he looks at the now nervous looking lawyer. “Personally, I would love to see you in prison. You may not have done many of these crimes yourself, but you helped. You helped destroy people’s lives all in the name of money and power. We’ve decided to present the evidence to the authorities and have you put on house arrest in exchange for your testimonies against the others involved. Any property or belongings that you own obtained by illegal means will be confiscated. You will be monitored to make sure you stay clean. If I see any evidence at all that you are keeping in contact with any of your former cohorts, I will not hesitate to bring you in and be subjected to a very public trial. It would get messy, probably destroy this firm, and sadly destroy the careers of your sons, but justice would be served. And that’s all I care about.” 

Mr. Jeon scoffs. “I’ll have you know I go golfing with the countries most powerful every damn Sunday. There’s not a judge in this city that I’m not able to buy. I’d love to see you try to take us down. You have nothing but some pieces of paper against me.” 

“That’s not all,” Mr. Park muttered softly. 

“Park, you better shut your damn mouth.” Mr. Kim growled. 

Mr. Park shook his head, glancing around the table with a sorrowful gaze, locking eyes with his son.

“I’ve kept quiet for too long. I’m so sorry, son. Your father is a weak man. I just wanted everything in the world for you and your brother. So, when these two started bragging about their side hustles and tried to get me into them, I kept quiet, afraid they’d try to push us out. I didn’t actually help them, but I didn’t stop them. I’m so sorry.” Mr. Park explained to Jimin with misty eyes. Jimin being the sweetheart he was, reached out his hand and grasped his father’s, squeezing it comfortingly. 

Mr. Park turned to Kihyun. “Lawyer Yoo, I’ll tell you everything you need to know, and I gladly accept your deal.” 

Kihyun nodded and stood up, glancing at the other two men. “Will I have to make this a public spectacle and have you dragged out of here by cops, or will you both go home without a fight?” 

Kim and Jeon glanced at each other with clenched jaws, silently debating. Once Kim’s shoulders fell in defeat, we knew it was over. 

“Excellent. You all go home. I’ll be right behind you with an officer who will fit you with your gear. Do not think of trying to run for it, that will just make things worse.” Kihyun said cheerfully, leaving no one doubting the fact that he would love nothing more than for them to try something. 

Jungkook stepped in front of his father, staring down at him with disdain. “As of this moment, I want nothing to do with you. You will have no say over my life, and I never want to see you again.” 

“Same goes for me,” Taehyung says in a flat voice as he glances at his own father. “Not that you ever really acknowledge my existence outside of work anyway, but after this I expect you to pretend we don’t know each other.” 

Kihyun herds the broken lawyers towards the door, grabbing my friend on his way out. They wave and she gestures that she’ll call later, leaving the room for just me and the boys. 

“You guys want to go home?” I ask softly as I look over the three troubled men. They all nod silently, obviously too lost in their heads right now. As I lead them to the parking lot, everyone gets in my car, even Jungkook. I don’t know how aware of his surroundings he is right now and I assume he’s merely following Jimin, needing the comfort. I have no desire to deny him that so I just keep quiet and bring him home with us.  

───

I’ve gotten all three of them fed, showered and drinking some calming tea. They are all sitting on the couch, staring unseeingly at the television. It’s more silent in this room than it has been in months and it’s slightly unnerving. 

“What do you need, sweetheart? Do you want to just head to bed? I’m sure everything will be better tomorrow.” I ask Taehyung softly as I stroke his arm. 

He shakes his head. “No, pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to sleep right now. I was thinking...could I be puppy?” 

“You want to be puppy right now? You don’t mind Jungkook seeing?” 

“No, I don’t care. I just want to be out of my head for a while, and I really need you.” 

“Okay, baby. Anything you want.” I give him a quick peck before I stand up to go get his gear. 

“Me too,” Jimin whispers softly. I look him over and mentally agree that he probably needs this too. All of us need a distraction and what better way than to remind them they are loved and adored. 

“Alright. If that’s what you guys think you need. Jungkook, what do you need?” 

His head shoots up from where he’d been staring at his hands, apparently shocked to be included in this discussion. “I’m...just going to watch if that’s okay. I’ve been a little curious ever since they told me they do this.” 

“That’s fine. You don’t have to do anything, bun. Just relax.”

“Bun?” 

“Mmhmm.” I wink at him as I stroll to the hall closet for the box of supplies. 

“Clothes off, my babies, and get into position,” I order, humming as I set the box on the coffee table, rifling through it for their tails and collars. 

Jungkook stares in awe and surprise as Taehyung and Jimin promptly follow my orders, shedding their clothes and positioning themselves on all fours as they wait for further orders. Taehyung winks shamelessly at Jungkook while Jimin blushes and avoids Jungkook’s avid gaze, choosing to watch me prepare their gear instead. Jungkook follows Jimin’s line of sight, growing curious himself about the contents of the box. He peers over my shoulder, taking in the sight of the collars, tails, and various toys contained inside. 

“It seems like you guys take this seriously. I thought it was just everyone acting silly in bed,” he finally comments as he plays with the fur on Jimin’s tail. 

“No. I mean, sometimes it’s just that. Sometimes it’s a full scene like this. A lot of the time we’re as vanilla as three people fucking can be. We’re not, like, hardcore or anything. I don’t whip them or lock them up. I haven’t joined any clubs.” I chuckle, handing him Jimin’s tail to lube up with a raised eyebrow in silent challenge. He grins and accepts it, preparing it for me silently. 

“When we do a full scene like this though, it has to be taken seriously to an extent. I can still enjoy myself, of course, but they both go fully into their headspaces.” 

“That’s subspace, right? I think Jimin’s gone into a few times with me. He said his head was fuzzy.” 

“Yeah, with this though, Jimin’s gone fully into it. He goes nonverbal sometimes, besides sounds, so he isn’t able to use a safeword or anything. When we were just starting out, Taehyung tried to use Gucci as a safeword, but honestly, it’s hard to remember that kind of stuff when they’re under. So, when they can ‘speak’ I use the color system. When they can’t, it’s up to me to check for tells, or under an emergency, they chose to take off their own collars as a sign they need to stop.”

“And what about you? Do you go into some sort of space?” 

“Mmm, sort of? It’s not like theirs. The way they tell me, it feels like they’re drunk or high and it’s only us and the way they are feeling. The rest of the world falls away, and they don’t have to worry about anything. For me, I don’t feel fuzzy or anything, which is a good thing since I have to pay attention to them, but focusing on them is a way of making the rest of the world fall away, I guess. I don’t have to worry about anything else besides making sure they are feeling good and loved. Aftercare is probably the best part for all of us. For us, that’s usually baths, snacks, and cuddling. Talking about the scene and what they wanted to try next time or take out, that kind of thing.” 

“That sounds nice, actually.” Jungkook sounds almost wistful as he watches the two men waiting patiently for me. Smirking, I think it’s only a matter of time before he’s down there with them. I’ll need to remember to look online for some gear for him, just in case. 

“Present,” I order softly as I walk over to the boys with their tails. The both of them press their faces onto the tile flooring and raise their butts up. 

“Good boys.” I croon, patting them both lightly as I put each of their tails in. I also clip on Jimin’s ears and grab their collars. 

“Is there anything specific you want to say or ask for before you get collared?”

Taehyung shakes his head no, while Jimin chews his lip before speaking up hesitantly. 

“I only want to wear my tail for the first half, while we’re getting into our spaces.” 

“Oh? You want Tae Tae to fuck you today?” 

Jimin blushes lightly, but I see the mischievous light in his eyes. The tease. 

“No. Well, maybe a little. I also want you to.” 

“A naughty little kitten went snooping, I see.” 

“I’m sorry. I saw the bag in the bedroom, and I remembered us talking about it. I really want you to do it,” Jimin answers excitedly, his cock twitching underneath him in agreement. 

Pleased and amused, I nod in agreement and lean in for a quick peck. 

“I’m lost. Do what?” Jungkook asks, his nose scrunching in an adorable way that really makes him look like a little bunny. 

“Mmm, Kitten wasn’t happy with just two real cocks fucking him. He wants me to, as well. So I went out and got the most realistic strap I could find because only the best will do for my baby. Did you see the little surprise feature as well?” 

Jimin’s eyes widen as he shakes his head no. Even Taehyung looks invested. 

“It’s a squirting dildo. So when I fuck you, I can fill you up nicely too.” 

Jimin moans lowly, practically growling he’s so pleased. 

“Oh my god, I love you.” 

“Maybe one of these days when we’re feeling really nasty, we can have the boys fill it up with the real stuff for you. Would you like that? Being fucked by me until you’re full of everyone’s cum?” 

Jimin whines and leans towards me to beg for a kiss. I decide to tease him instead, just running my tongue across his bottom lip and nipping it once before I pull away. 

“Such a dirty little kitten,” I murmur softly as I pet Jimin’s hair. 

“Fuck.” 

“You okay there, Jungkook?” I glance behind me at the whispered curse, quirking an eyebrow in amusement at his glazed expression. 

“I don’t think he believed me when I told him what you were like. He’s learned his lesson, and I don’t think he minds.” Taehyung snickers and gestures with his head towards the bulging front of Jungkook’s jeans. 

“Sure you don’t want to join?” I ask, smirking at his deepening blush. 

“I...umm. No?” 

“Are you asking me if you want to?” 

His mouth opens and closes a few times like he’s trying to figure out how to respond. I decide to take pity on him. 

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m just teasing you. Just sit back and relax. It’s going to be tame for a bit, anyway.” 

He quickly nods and goes back to observing, although I note that one of my couch pillows is now covering his lap. I turn my attention back to the other two, giving them each a comforting peck before I grab their collars. I decide to start with Jimin first, settling in front of him with his black and pink collar. 

“Jimin, tell me your colors then I’ll collar you,” I demand softly, holding the lace up to his neck. 

“Green is good, yellow is pause, red is stop,” he answers quickly before he angles his neck towards me.

“Good boy. Here you go, Kitten.” 

I drape his collar around him and whisper a quick I love you near his ear then move to Taehyung and do the same for him. Before I can pull away, he takes the initiative and claims my lips in a hard kiss, slipping his sneaky tongue in before I push him away with a giggle. He grins broadly, thoroughly pleased with himself. 

I move back to the box, humming as I rifle through it, finally bringing out one of the hairbrushes I’d stashed inside. I grab a cushion and make myself comfortable in front of them, then begin tenderly brushing Taehyung’s hair. I try to make Jimin’s wait less lonely for him by occasionally reaching over to pet his hair a bit, but he’s used being a good boy and waiting his turn. I hear a rustle and glance over to see Jungkook leaning forward and watching with interest and obviously confused. He’d probably thought we’d go straight to fucking. I grin and take a moment to explain. 

“It’s part of getting them into their petspace. We do different things, depending on what they ask for. Sometimes it’s actual playtime with toys and everything. Sometimes it’s walking them around the house on a leash or feeding them out of their pet bowls. Today, since they didn’t request anything specific, I figured that with everything happening, what they could use the most is some pampering. So, I’m going to groom them while they begin to fall into their roles in their minds.” 

“That sounds good. Can I...help you? I’m not ready for the other stuff, but I can handle grooming, I think.” Jungkook asks tentatively. 

“Sure, bun. There’s another brush in the box. You can take care of Jiminie.” 

Jungkook looks at me funny when I try the nickname again, but I merely chuckle. He grabs the brush from the box and kneels in front of Jimin, sitting on his shins. He holds the brush above Jimin’s head but hesitates for a moment, looking unsure. Before I can make a snarky comment about forgetting him how to brush, Jimin cocks an eyebrow at Jungkook in a silent dare. Jungkook huffs and starts brushing Jimin’s hair slowly, never able to turn down a challenge. Jimin smiles to himself, apparently used to playing Jungkook like a fiddle, and eventually I see him slowly relaxing, all the previous tension melting away. 

“Holy shit, he’s actually purring,” Jungkook exclaims as the rattling in Jimin’s chest becomes a little louder. I huff in fake annoyance, grinning at the cheeky little kitten. 

“Yeah, he started that up last month. I think the little shit started practicing outside of scenes just to surprise me. It’s adorable, isn’t it? Sounds almost realistic.” Jungkook smiles and nods as he stares down at Jimin fondly. 

 “Jungkook, can you hand me the body oil in there? It’s the purple bottle.” 

“Yeah,” he jumps up and grabs the bottle from the box, bringing it to his nose. 

“Oh wow, that smells good. Lavender?” 

“Yeah, it’s calming. Helps them relax and fall deeper into their space, and it’s safe for sensitive areas too,” I explain with a wiggle of my eyebrows as I accept the proffered bottle. I pour a generous amount into my hands and rub it around a bit to warm before I start massaging it into Taehyung’s back. He groans loudly, loving the attention. 

“So, just rub it on while they hold this position?” Jungkook picks up the bottle, looking between it and Jimin, then to me for confirmation. 

“Yup. They’re used to it. Just tell him ‘up’ when you’re ready to get his chest. And try not to get any on the tail fur. It’s a bitch to clean out without ruining it.” 

Jungkook watches me as I move from Taehyung’s back to his arms and legs, following my movements on Jimin, who is surprisingly still purring. I’ve never heard him keep it up this long, so I’m convinced he’s just being cute and putting on a show for Jungkook. I suspect that same reason is why Taehyung is so well behaved and barely moving as I rub him down. He usually tries to sneak in kisses or knock me over to nip at my neck. They are both trying to show off for Jungkook, and it’s frankly adorable. 

Eventually, I decide it’s time to see how far into it they are.

“Feeling good, Tae Tae?” I’m answered with a cute little whine as he leans in for more rubbing, signaling that Taehyung is fully immersed in his role. 

“How about you, Jiminie? Kookie making you feel nice?” I ask, peering over to get a better look at him. He answers with a tiny mewl that I’ve literally walked in on him practicing, but I know from the slightly dazed look in his eyes that he’s ready. 

“Holy shit, that was so cute,” Jungkook whines. I giggle and nod in agreement before I turn back to Taehyung.

“Up, Tae Tae,” I demand as I put more oil on my hands.

Taehyung immediately sits on his shins and places his hands palms down on his thighs. Jungkook watches as I rub more of the oil into Taehyung’s chest before he turns back to Jimin and gives him the same request. Jimin falls into the same position. 

I move my oiled hands further down Taehyung’s body and wrap them around his cock, stroking slowly until it’s fully hard and beginning to drip. Taehyung whimpers and clenches his hands into his thighs as he attempts to hold back from touching me. Jungkook watches nervously but interested. 

“Should I...Jimin, do you want me to do that too?” He asks softly, and Jimin answers with a silent nod, licking his lips. 

“Jungkook, you really don’t need to be scared. It’s not like it’s your first time with either of them,” I tell him, grinning a bit at how cute he’s being as he tentatively strokes Jimin. 

“I know. I’m not...scared. I’m just worried I’ll mess something up,” he grumbles. 

“You’ll be fine. He looks like he’s having fun.” I smirk at Jimin’s enjoyment as he is basically fucking himself into Jungkook’s hand. He’s completely taking advantage of Jungkook’s lack of knowledge to move as he pleases. “Just don’t hesitate so much or he’ll start worrying that you’re getting freaked out by him acting that way and that could make him drop. Not a good thing, trust me.” 

His eyes widen, and he is quick to assure Jimin. “I’m not freaked out, I promise. It’s cute as hell and kinda hot, to be honest,” Jimin mewls softly and braces himself with his hands on Jungkook’s shoulders to move into Jungkook’s hands faster. The brief look he spares me shows he’s waiting to see if someone is going to stop him. I’ll let him have his fun today. 

“Down Tae Tae.” Taehyung falls back onto his hands and knees at my order, his eyes burning with lust and his poor lips red from him chewing on them. 

“You just don’t see yourself in the handler role though, right?” I ask Jungkook as he orders the now panting Jimin back into position as well. 

“Uh, I mean. I don’t know. Maybe.” 

“Mmm, you’re probably due for some pampering yourself, huh?” 

Jungkook’s face is bright red as he looks between the boys and me, no doubt seeing himself in their place now. Judging by the strangled whimper that escapes him, I’ve judged rightly, but I don’t want to scare him off. 

“It���s okay, Jungkook. It’s cute. There’s no need for you to decide anything today. Just learn from the experience, and you can think more about it later. I can tell you that I would absolutely love to take care of you too if you wanted me too,” I assure him softly as he gulps and licks his lips.  

“Really, like what you do for them? A pet?” It’s said almost like a sneer, but judging by the panicked look after the words left his mouth, he didn’t mean it that way.

I shrug, not insulted because I know he’s still processing,“If you wanted. It’s all about what makes everyone comfortable and feeling good. Again, we don’t do this all the time, but when we do, they have fun. It’s all about making them feel loved and cherished, and if they get an orgasm out of it, even better. They’ve gone into their spaces just to play before, no sex, and came out perfectly happy and relaxed.” 

Jungkook nods in understanding, relaxing a bit, and I turn my attention back to the boys. 

“What do you want to do now, my babies? You wanna play or maybe have a treat? I still have those cookie treats I made you.” 

Jimin mewls and plants his face cheek down on the carpet, waving his backside and making his tail sway. 

I chuckle and stroke his cheek. “Kitten just wants someone inside of him already, huh? Do you want to put on a show for Kookie and let him see what a good kitten you are?” Jimin purrs and buts his head into my hand, peering up at me mischievously. 

“I’m going to go get ready, you can keep an eye on them for a few moments, right bun?” I ask Jungkook as I pull out Jimin’s tail and add more lube to the now stretched hole. 

He looks horrified by the prospect, but nods. Apparently, he still hasn’t grasped the fact that these are still the same two people he’s been with many times before. Perhaps a few moments with those two unsupervised will lead to a couple of naughty pets taking full advantage of being given free rein. Judging by the calculating look in my Kitten’s eyes, and the fact that Taehyung will go along with whatever Jimin wants, I’m sure Jungkook will come around soon enough. 

“Mount,” I order Taehyung, who smiles happily at me before crawling over to Jimin.

 He sneaks in a few kisses on Jimin’s thighs before draping himself over his back and slowly entering him from behind. Taehyung stares at me as his lips part in a silent moan once he bottoms out. He turns and watches himself pull back out slowly before slamming back inside, Jimin beginning to whimper underneath him. With a grin I walk away, snickering at Jungkook’s rapt gaze on the two in front of him. 

The harness I had ordered was an interesting piece that was basically reinforced underwear meant to hold a dildo. I’d ordered two new toys to go with it, one that was reviewed to be the most realistic on the market, and another that you filled with lube or a specialty product to simulate cum. While it made me a little sad I couldn’t give him the real deal myself, this was the next best thing. I strip myself of everything then slide on just the harness, adjusting the squirting dildo in the provided hole. I look down at myself, giggling a little as I play with the toy and try to get acclimated to the feeling of it being there. I pause to take one last look at myself in the full-length mirror against the door, fluffing my hair a bit.

I was a little nervous. Pegging Jimin would be fun, I’m sure, but this is my first time doing it, and I have the two men out there for him to compare me against as well. The fact that this will be the first time Jungkook has seen me naked is, of course, the other reason. I take a chance to breathe a few times deeply before throwing back my shoulders and strolling out to the hallway like I didn’t have a care in the world. 

Once I reach the end of the hallway, gravelly moans and the delightful sound of messy slurping reach my ears, and I smirk to myself knowing that my Kitten did precisely as I thought he would. Sure enough, as I walk into the living room, I see new bits of clothing thrown around the room, most notably Jungkook’s pants and boxers. 

I prop my hip up against the back of the couch as I take in the scene, the boys too busy to notice I’m back yet. Taehyung is still fucking Jimin doggystyle, but they’ve moved closer to the couch. Jimin was sucking Jungkook’s surprisingly large cock, his plump lips wrapped around him so beautifully as spit drooled down his chin. He finally looked up and noticed me, whining needily. 

“Now, Jiminie, what have I told you about talking with your mouth full?” I tease with a smile as I walk around the couch to let them see. 

Jimin pulls off and mewls loudly, opening his mouth for me. I sit next to Jungkook on the couch, his desperate panting touching my skin with hot air when he turns his head to stare at me. Jungkook surveys me from head to toe open-mouthed, his eyes only pausing once to stare at my breasts for a few moments before latching onto the toy that was attached to me.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, then leans back, watching underneath his lashes as Jimin scoots over to me. 

“I see you were busy, Kitten. Do you want mine too? I ask, waving it teasingly in front of him. He’s quick to latch on, bobbing on it as enthusiastically as he’d been before. I had to admit he looked beautiful from this view, with his full lips wrapped around the toy as he watched my reactions coyly. 

“A cockslut, even for the fake ones,’ Jungkook huff a laugh, still sounding a little out of breath. Jimin moaned around the toy, and I could feel the vibrations in my thighs. 

Jungkook and I shared a small smile before I turned to watch Taehyung. He was struggling to hold on, a little bit of sweat had built on his forehead, and he was gritting his teeth. However, he knew better than to come without permission. 

“Tae Tae. Stop,” I order softly, and he pauses, only clenching his fingers into Jimin’s ass to try to hold on. “You have a couple choices, baby. You can cum in Jiminie right now or hold off and fuck me when I’m done with him. It’s up to you.” 

Taehyung is struggling so hard, I can tell he’s trying to think through the fuzzy brain and the fact that he was already inside something. Finally, after what seemed forever, he pulls out of Jimin with a deep whine, falling back onto the floor. He grabs his dick, squeezing hard and closing his eyes to bring himself back down a bit. 

“What a sweet boy. Good Job, Tae Tae.” I praise as I pull out of Jimin’s mouth. 

“You ready for me, kitten?” I murmur as I get up and take Taehyung’s place. He purrs and looks behind him, smirking as I lube the toy up. 

“Look at you, baby. Tae Tae opened you up for me nicely.”

I slide the toy in easily, not that surprising considering it’s smaller than Taehyung. I pull out slowly, admiring the view before I begin bucking my hips into him as hard as I can. Because that’s me inside Jimin, making him whimper. Well, a toy, but I still feel powerful. Taehyung comes behind me and grabs both of my hips to help me go even harder because our kitten likes being fucked. I should have reprimanded Tae for doing what he wanted, but I was too caught up in the fact that it was me making Jimin scream in ecstasy. 

“Shit, look at his face. You’re fucking him so good,” Jungkook groans as he lightly strokes his cock, staring at Jimin’s face as tears begin to fall. Neither of them are going to last much longer. 

“Kitten, don’t neglect Kookie. Swallow everything he gives you.” I push Jimin forward a little as Jungkook quickly scoots forward and shoves his cock into Jimin’s waiting mouth with a relieved groan. 

With Jungkook being as excited as he was, it didn’t take long. Jimin took him all the way into his throat and swallowed. Jungkook dug his hands into Jimin’s hair and came with a shout, bucking shallowing as he came down. Taehyung backs off and sits behind me.

Jimin pulled off with a wet pop and leaned up a bit to grab onto the couch, his tear-stained face looking over his shoulder at me as he whimpers. 

“You can cum whenever you’re ready, Kitten.” I grab the pump on the side of my harness, squeezing it until the toy shoots all the liquid into Jimin.

And that was all he was waiting for because I only had to rock into him twice before his hips started bucking and he came with a loud cry, dripping all over the floor. I pull out and pet his back, debating whether I should make him clean it up, but I decide I’ll let him off easy today. 

All of a sudden, I feel Taehyung’s heat at my back again as he drapes himself across me and nuzzles into my neck, seeking permission. 

“Go ahead, puppy. Mount.” 

Taehyung is quick to follow instructions and slides in easily with me being soaking from the excitement of fucking Jimin. He doesn’t ease into it, desperately pounding into me as he tries to reach the high I’d brought him down from earlier. From my spot, I can see Jungkook and Jimin cuddling. Jimin watching us with a fond look as he purrs, Jungkook watching with eyes full of lust and fascination, his cock raising back to attention. I was a little impressed with his refractory period.  

Taehyung must have noticed it as well because soon enough he was scooting me forward and I found myself in the same position that Jimin had been in just a few moments ago. Jimin smirks down at me and grabs Jungkook’s cock, angling it towards my face. 

“Please,” Jungkook whimpers hoarsely. 

Not giving myself time to overthink, I went for it, wrapping my lips around him quickly. Taehyung’s constant pounding behind me pushed me further onto Jungkook’s cock, making it easy work. I hollow my cheeks and let the saliva run free as Jungkook threads his hands in my hair. It only takes a couple minutes before his fingers tighten and he cums in my mouth. He’s more bitter than Jimin, but it isn’t horrible. I pull off and grin at the sated man as he slumps into the couch, pulling Jimin towards him and smiling softly at me. 

Taehyung leans down and bites my neck like he’s trying to remind me he’s still balls deep, as if I could forget. He reaches under me and begins rubbing and pinching my clit, and I know he’s desperate to cum if he’s trying to get me there faster. 

I can feel my own body tightening and I know I’m not going to last much longer myself. 

“Cum, puppy. Fill me up, baby.” Taehyung whines and somehow goes even faster, slamming into my pussy with so much force I have to grab onto the couch for leverage. With one last slam of his hips, he stills, pouring into me. As I feel him trembling and twitching inside of me, I allow myself to fall, cumming with a high moan. Taehyung whimpers as my pussy flutters with aftershocks on his sensitive dick and he pulls out. Breathing heavily, I slump against the couch, and Taehyung gathers me up in his sweaty arms, giggling when I crinkle my nose at the smell. 

“Jungkook, help me take their collars off?” I ask breathily, undoing the fastening on Taehyungs. Jungkook does the same for Jimin and throws it in the direction of the box, not quite making it, but we were all too tired to care. 

“Is everyone good? No one’s hurting, everyone is feeling nice?” I drag myself up onto the couch next to Jungkook, and Tae is right next to me, snuggling in. 

“I’m amazing. I can’t believe you’ve never done that before. You fucked me so well!” Jimin gushes, reaching a leg across Jungkook’s lap to touch me since he was too lazy to move right now. 

I pat his foot, chuckling. “Taehyung helped a bit. We’ll have to work on my core more to handle fucking you like you want, sweetheart.” 

“I can help with that,” Jungkook says as he fights back a yawn. 

“I bet you could muscle bunny. Hey, you look too tired to drive. You wanna stay over? We have a guest room if you want.” I offer as I stand up and pull Taehyung up with me. 

Jungkook glances at me shyly, chewing his lip in thought. 

“I’ll stay over, yeah. But...can I...stay with you guys?” 

“Really?” I look down at him in surprise. “We’d love to have you join us if you want. It’s bathtime right now though, so if you want to sleep in my bed, you’ll join us.” 

Jungkook nods happily, following behind the three of us as we make the familiar trek to our big tub. Jungkook picks a nighttime bath bomb before climbing in, and they all start playing with the colorful suds like overgrown children. Once everyone is clean and refreshed, we head to the bedroom. Taehung lends Jungkook some sweats, and we all start getting comfortable on the bed, except for Jungkook. He stands at the end, observing us all take our places. Eventually, he seems to have picked a spot as he slides in between Jimin and me, giggling as Jimin grumbles about being pushed around. 

I lay back with a sigh, letting myself be engulfed in the warmth and comfort. Honestly, it was a bit like being in bed with the Kraken, but it was still lovely. 

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers near my ear as he turns his whole body towards me. I follow suit, even though we couldn’t see each other well with only moonlight. “Can I try something?” 

“Mmmhmm,” I mumble, still halfway to sleep. 

Jungkook’s lips are suddenly on mine, slightly wet like he’d licked them before, but soft and tender. Questioning, like he was trying to picture doing this a lot. He’s kissed me before, but I got it. This time it was with the future in mind. 

Finally, he backs away, sighing contentedly. “I think I want this.” 

“Jungkookie’s going to stay forever!” Taehyung yells enthusiastically, and I shush him as the other two giggle. 

Eventually, their breathing begins to even out as I lay there listening to them falling asleep, thinking to myself. I am so content and happy right now, and I can only hope that I can do the same for them. 

Taehyung falls onto the ground with a loud thump, grumbling a bit before he’s quickly back to snoring. 

I’m also going to need a bigger bed.