#gonna be asking them to cover all these ER visits

[pippindot]

Waiting at the vet again. This time not an emergency! Big doc said it would be best if we could admit her overnight again for fluids and bloodwork. Luckily we found a place that will do it.

She is still alert and bright, but we don't want to wait til she's really bad to get her hydrated. It's extremely important we keep her nice and juicy so her kidneys don't get too stressed by all the bilirubin they have to filter. Going to ask if they will give me some sub-q fluid bags to take for the road and hydrate her myself about halfway to Albuquerque.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Five Little Ducks

Fandom: DC Comics, Batman

Summary: Bruce finds a magically de-aged Jason.

Chapters: 6/13

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Zatanna Zatara

Additional Tags: De-Aged Jason Todd, Magic, Babysitting, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, POV Third Person, Bruce Wayne is Not Okay, Bruce Wayne Tries, Jason Todd Has Issues, Childhood Trauma

Chapter Six: When I Grow Up

When Bruce woke up, Jason was gone. He had no idea how old Jason was, so he rushed to Jason's old apartment in his pajamas. Bruce didn't take the time to get dressed out of fear that something had happened to Jason. When he arrived, Jason sat in the apartment, shaking from the cold and smoking a cigarette. His pajamas still had the tags on them. Jason's eyes were half-closed as he mumbled something to himself. "Jason," Bruce called

"I won't be small forever... And by then, he'll be old," Jason mumbled. He hadn't heard Bruce at all.

"Jason, put that cigarette-."

Jason looked at the ceiling. His hair was cut in an entirely different style, and his bangs were unkempt, hanging in his eyes, nearly obscuring the bruises and cuts that covered his face. "How old are you?" Bruce questioned. Jason took another puff of his cigarette and blew smoke out his mouth and nose. He winced and coughed. Bruce crouched down, tapped Jason's foot, and jerked backward, blocking a punch. "How old are you?" Bruce raised his voice.

"I'm eight," Jason answered as he stepped on his cigarette. "Sorry... My hearing's not that great right now. I got out of the ER yesterday."

Jason looked like he hadn't slept in days. "Jason, can I get a good look at your face?" Bruce asked. Jason nodded, and Bruce pushed Jason's bangs out of the way. The only other time Jason looked that terrible was when he died. Jason wrung his hands to stop the shaking. "Shaken up?"

"My dad's in jail... What do you think?" Jason snapped. "What are you doing here? Aren't you rich?"

"I'm visiting a friend," Bruce replied as he examined each cut and bruise. They were starting to heal, so it'd been a few days since he was beaten. "Is Catherine here?" Bruce had to lie to convince Jason that he was safe.

Jason shook his head. "She's hurting... Bad... So, she's gone to get better at a friend's," Jason replied. He turned his face away. Bruce sighed. "So, you know my mom?"

Bruce nodded. "She wanted me to come and get you while she's away. She was worried about you being alone," Bruce lied. Bruce stood up and offered Jason a hand. Jason winced and stumbled forward into Bruce's arm. "It's okay... I got you." Jason held onto Bruce's arm, trying to steady himself. He gave in, making a soft noise of defeat.

"I'm sorry... I need to sit down," Jason mumbled. Bruce helped him down, making sure he didn't hit his head. "I wanted to find my mom... I haven't-. I can't-. I'm too dizzy."

"What happened?" Bruce asked.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Jason mumbled.

"I thought you said you got out of the ER yesterday. They shouldn't have-."

"They didn't release me... I said I got out," Jason mumbled. Bruce sighed.

"Wanna ride on my back? I'm gonna take you to get something to eat," Bruce offered. Jason nodded. Bruce carried Jason on his back to the car, and they went through the drive-thru. "Jason? I'm not with the police or anything... I genuinely want to know what happened to you."

"Everybody thinks my dad did this to my face... Dad didn't do this," Jason defended, "He's in jail because of what he did to the guy that did this..."

Jason was being honest. "I'm sorry for assuming the same thing... Jason, who did that to your face?" Bruce asked as Jason dug into his fries. "Actually, I have a more pressing question. When's the last time you had a full meal?"

"I dunno... I woke up somewhere weird this morning, so it could've been a day... Maybe two?" Jason answered. Bruce frowned. "Did I say thank you?"

"It's alright," Bruce whispered. Jason stopped eating and turned to Bruce.

"No, no... It's not okay. I-. Thank you," Jason whispered.

"You're very welcome. Jason, can we go back to my first question? Who hurt you?" Bruce asked.

"Some guy said my parents owed him money, and he started beating me up... Then, my dad showed up and started hitting the guy with a baseball bat," Jason explained, "My dad coulda taken the guy's head off, but he didn't. And we can't bail him out because he was already on parole for something else... And his PO's a real doofus."

"A doofus?" Bruce grinned. Jason nodded. "Guess there are worse things you could've called him. Do you and your dad typically get on alright?"

"Sure... I mean, he's not perfect... Nobody is, but he loves me a whole lot. I know he can be mean sometimes, but he woulda left a long time ago if he didn't want me," Jason replied, "He didn't have a dad around growing up. He promised me it'd be different."

"So, you love him?" Bruce asked.

"Of course I do," Jason replied.

Bruce rustled a hand through Jason's curls while Jason ate. "Are you still hungry?" Bruce asked. Jason nodded. Bruce could tell Jason wanted to cry but wouldn't allow himself to. "It's okay to be upset, Jason."

Jason turned his head. "Stop it," Jason warned as he screwed up his face. "Stop it." He hit the heel of his palms against his legs as he tried to stop his tears from falling. Bruce realized those words were self-directed.

"Hey, c'mere," Bruce whispered. Jason shook his head. "It's okay... No one's mad at you for crying." Jason wiped his tears away.

"If I keep crying like this, he's not gonna wanna come home," Jason mumbled, "I gotta be tougher."

"Sometimes the toughest thing you can do is let yourself cry it out," Bruce whispered as tears streamed down his cheeks. Jason hugged him.

"Why are you crying?" Jason muttered.

"Because I might've been too hard on my little boy," Bruce whispered. Jason let go and wiped his eyes. "You okay?"

"Mhm... Can I still have another burger?" Jason mumbled. Bruce chuckled and nodded.

"You can have whatever you want," Bruce smiled.

[good-beanswrites]

Same Lights, Camera, Sing Your Sins anon here (you know if I'm gonna keep sending anon asks because of ideas, I need a shorter name...) Glad they're getting time to cool off on what happened during the trial. This project is hard on them all QvQ

Okay another thought! While working on the Trial 2 MVs, you think the prisoners get to watch everyone's first MVs? Like, maybe praise how each video looks ("Oh my gosh, Amane you look amazing!"), making comments with Jackalope's artistic choices (Shidou's flower mummy) and how stiff some of the prisoners look ("Fuuta you're walking like a tinman." "Shut up!"), some singing along to songs they've overheard earlier (Kotoko singing Weakness), and...er...shirtless Mikoto ("Amane don't look!"). Idk, this makes their filming for the next MVs sound more fun as they hang out.

Hello again!! omg Thank You for sharing once again, I’m obsessed with that 🥺🥺🥺 That's so wonderful picturing a little movie night... (And yes, feel free to pick a name :D else I will dub thee 🎬 next time given the theme lmao)

Okay so my original idea was that those first videos were actually watched on the down-low. There were a few days of nothing going on while the prisoners debriefed, made plans, and communicated their song ideas to the writers to start working with. (Minor detail but I think they’re cut off from the world still, no internet access though they can exchange a few messages/visits with family). They do, however, get access to the others’ T1 videos on their phones/ facility computers. Everyone gave permission to watch them, but there’s a bit of hesitancy. They haven’t started filming their new videos yet, so no one has gotten a look that deep into anyone else’s hearts. Just because they’re closer in this au doesn’t make them better communicators -- there’s still a lot that’s been left unsaid regarding near-murders and their true selves. So they only watch them in secret out of respect.

Haruka hides under the covers to watch After Pain on loop late into the night (going “she’s just like me fr”). Fuuta doesn’t care much for the others’ songs but tries to decipher the crimes as best as he can. He probably gets one stuck in his head the next few days that he finds really embarrassing. Mahiru gets very emotional over the other lovers, doing a poor job of hiding her sympathy toward Yuno, Shidou, and Kazui in the following days. Kazui is embarrassed to watch Throw Down so often, but Shidou is such a subtle man and it’s nice to see a more open side to him (who admits to lying as well). Amane takes a while to watch them -- they’re videos supporting murder and sin, after all -- but once she convinces herself it’s to help the experiment, she allows herself to enjoy  them. Kotoko does the same as Fuuta but jumps straight into Fandom Mode and starts taking notes and analyzing the others’ videos. She keeps a secret folder on her phone of theories and symbolism and screenshots for reference. 

HOWEVER

You have opened my eyes to Milgram Movie Night 👁️👁️

Everyone realizes they’re going to need to get comfortable with a lot of personal info really quickly, since T2 filming starts in a few days. Rather than Jackalope’s suggestion of undergoing a painful group circle talk, they go with Mikoto’s idea to all sit down to watch the videos together. This keeps the atmosphere up while they watch, allowing for many compliments and encouragement. It also lets the singer defend things in their video if they see fit, though most let it speak for itself. (Fuuta: “ah, back when I was a menace online.” “You’re still like that Fuuta.” “I’m a changed man!” “You got one guilty verdict and nothing’s even happened yet.”)

I love all of those reactions so much ahhhh! Amane getting showered in compliments like she deserves. Honestly, all of them getting showered in complements because it's what they deserve ;-; Playful teasing getting thrown around for everyone. Not even Jackalope is safe from their heckling (see: Throw Down flower person), and he's not even there to defend himself. There’s lots of blushing and eye covering during MeMe. And a singalong aspect!! I don’t know I didn’t think to incorporate that into the fic so far -- there’s nothing quite like heckling your friend onstage by echoing their lines really loud from the wings asdfsdfsd. Mikoto recognizes the video game from Fuuta’s and makes his whole day. Mahiru and Shidou realize they have both flowers and food in common, and get to talking. All at once, everything clicks into place for why Amane hated Shidou him so much.

I'm also realizing Kazui would have a Moment TM while seeing all the prisoners talking so comfortably about their deepest selves and struggles. I don't think he'd break down and open up just yet, but I bet it's be a pretty big change of heart for him to see such honesty/vulnerability...

Plus, most of my original ideas can still stand after the fact! There's no shame in seeing too much personal info about another prisoner, the only shame comes from just how many time the video was looped in private lmao

[your-local-grubdog]

Together in the Storm Chapter 11: Lil' BEAST of a Child!

Story Summary: Olimar is back home once again, ready to rest and recuperate from everything that had happened. Yet the universe keeps throwing unwanted surprises his way, making rest difficult. He just wants to make his (now rather large) family believe that he’ll be okay. Because he is, for he has to be.

Story ratings: No archive warnings apply, Teen and Up Audiences, and General/Non-Ship Focused

Chapter Summary: Olimar recalls the time when Captain Destiny met his son.

Read on Ao3 here!

Still no chapter art as I have a huge art project due in four days as of posting this. Art should hopefully be back for chapter 12!

===

Olimar sat in his office, looking through an old book of some sort. It was a thick, hearty thing, with cartoonish renditions of baby bottles on the front. It also has some frog stickers placed half-hazardly all over the front and back of it. He stared at each page for much longer than needed before slowly turning to the next, so absorbed in his task that he almost didn't notice Nova and Louie play-wrestling a bit too roughly right outside of his glass office door.

Almost.

"Cetacea, may you let the boys know that I can see them and that if they don't want me to intervene then they need to tone it down a bit?"

"Of course, Sir."

The boys soon stopped, seeming slightly spooked, before turning to Olimar's door. He merely paid them a sly smile, trying not to chuckle at how guilty they both looked. He only looked up and gave them his full attention when Louie opened the door.

"S-Sorry, dad..." Louie began, soon trailing off. "Uh, what do you got there?"

Olimar closed the book, setting it down. "You're alright, I was just stopping a problem before it could really get started." He then tapped on the book's cover. "This is Nova's baby photo book. Goes a bit beyond 'baby', actually, but still. I don't think I've shown you his or Lunas' yet. I could-" he paused for a moment before looking at Nova. "If he's okay with it, of course."

Louie rose a brow before looking down at Nova. The boy tensed a bit, seeming uncertain, before nodding. They both slowly approached Olimar, looking over his shoulders to take a peek at the book as he opened it back up. As expected, it was filled with pictures of him when much younger, around toddler age in this section. Nova then pointed at a photo, his ears wiggling. "You've never shown me that one. Uh, who is that?"

The photo was of an older woman with dark brown fur and coiled black hair swept to one side. She wore a puffy green flight jacket, jeans, and brown combat boots in the photo. And in her arms was little Nova, wearing a bright yellow shirt, soft blue shorts, and a yellow ribbon attached to a matching headband. He was staring at the camera in a... mildly creepy way, actually.

"I just added it in this morning." Olimar explained. "It... it hurt to much, to add it before. But I can't - and shouldn't - hide it away forever. Her name is Destiny - Captain Destiny. She was my captain when I was around Louie's age."

Nova's eyes went wide then, looking up at his father. "You never talked about your old crew before."

"Ehh..." he chuckled nervously. "Not gonna lie, most of them were jerks. I hardly had a spine at the time, plus I was... different. They picked on my quite a bit. Never bothered to keep in touch after the crew disbanded." He then pointed at the photo. "Our Captain, however, was great. Took me under her wing quite quickly. Mentored me, helped me out."

"Kinda like you did for me?" Louie asked.

Olimar was silent for several moments. "Yeah..." he finally managed out. "A lot like it, actually... she'd visit sometimes. She and Rose got along very well, and she got to meet you as well - er, as you were then, anyways. Would baby sit for us when she could, which wasn't often." he then poked his son's nose affectionately. "Would indulge in your insistent need to play in the mud, though."

At that Nova snorted before shrugging. "At least she was more fun, then, from the sound of things."

"Uh-huh." Olimar narrowed his eyes playfully before looking back to the page. "This was taken the day she met you. I can... tell you both the story, if you'd like." When both boys nodded eagerly, he leaned back into his chair. "We had just gotten back from a delivery run, and she wanted to check in on me..."

===

"T-thanks for offering to come over, Destiny."

"Don't sweat it, kid." The older woman chuckled as she followed Olimar through the house. "Where's that pretty lil' lass of yours now, hmm?" When Olimar's immediate response was to grumble a little, she began to laugh. "Oh, don't start on that now, boy. You know I'm teasin'."

"Yeah, yeah..." he rolled his eyes. "She's taking the chance to see her friends, hasn't gotten to go out much sense Stella was born."

"I see... speakin' of which..." They turned the corner and saw a young toddler wearing a bright yellow shirt, soft blue shorts, and a yellow ribbon attached to a matching headband. She was sitting in a playpen, messing about with toys. "It'll be nice to finally meet her, givin' how often ya brag about her."

"How could I not brag about my baby?" Olimar teased in response, lifting her up. He sat on the couch with his pup, beckoning Destiny over to sit next to him. "Stella, meet Destiny!" He moved her hand as if she was waving, smiling wide. Stella, on the other hand, just stared blankly at Destiny.

"Ah... Not much of a talker, is she?" Destiny asked wearily.

Olimar just shrugged before patting his pup's head gently. "She can babble, make sounds that almost resemble "mama" and "papa". Uh, she does go quiet around strangers though..."

"I can see that. Still, she's quite cute."

"Isn't she?" Olimar smiled wider then. "Rosie and I just adore her. It hasn't been easy taking care of a baby, don't get me wrong, but it's been absolutely worth it."

"Oh, I'm sure. Kids will never get easier. But I know you both were waiting a long time for the gods ta' finally bless you with this lil' one."

Olimar was quiet for a few moments before nodding slowly. He then set Stella back in the play pen, who promptly returned to playing with the various toys laid out for her. "It's been... Very hard. I don't - don't think I've ever told you everything."

Destiny's ears leaned back then, though she stayed quiet as she watched her young crew member lean into the couch, seeming almost... Limp.

"It's - It's taken us so so long... I've come home from work numerous times to find Rosie sobbing. It would take all night to console her, if I was able to at all. She... She was a wreck, captain." He stayed quiet for a long while then, watching as Stella bat a toy around, practically pouncing on it like a cat. Fairly typical behavior for a Hocotation pup, actually. "But... Now that Stella has been born, I think... I think her being alive has made Rose feel a lot better. She doesn't really cry much at all anymore."

Destiny nodded slowly as she tried to absorb everything. Eventually, she laid a hand on his shoulder. "She's a... A lil' rainbow baby then, I take it?"

Olimar was quiet for a long period before slowly nodding. At that point, Destiny began to rub his shoulder in an effort to calm him.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo. I'm sorry... I know it's not much, but..." She trailed off for a bit, leaving Olimar to twitch his ears as he sat up a bit. "May I see her?" She then asked.

Olimar silently nodded as he handed Stella over. The pup stared Destiny down, as if... She were prey. Well, also typical for a Hocotation pup. Probably. They were a predator species after all, and soon she'd be trying to hunt down small creatures. Eventually, she could spend that energy on sports or something. Destiny smiled at the child, holding her up a bit. "I may not be around much, but I can still be the lil' one's Nona!"

At that, Olimar blinked in surprise. "Oh - y-you don't got to-"

"I know." She hummed, lowering the kid and holding her close. "I also didn't need to do everything else. But I do, because you three matter a lot to me."

"I..." Olimar began, at a loss for words. Eventually his ears leaned back as he smiled sadly. "T-Thank you..."

"Of course."

Olimar stayed quiet for a few moments longer before eagerly standing up. "W-Well, if you wanna be the kid's Nona then we should get a picture of the two of you together!"

Destiny chuckled as she watched the man hurry away, hunting down a camera. "Yeah, that sounds nice..." She looked at little Stella, soon poking the kid's nose. "That sounds very nice..."

===

"She sounds kind." Nova hummed. "Why did she stop visiting?"

Olimar was quiet for several moments before being able to speak again. "She - she passes away when you were young." His ears slowly began to droop down then. "I was - it never - I..." He started and stopped his sentence a few times before giving up and sighing. He then turned his had to Nova slightly when the boy wrapped his arms around him. "Thanks, kiddo." He gently pat his back, soon feeling Louie lay a hand on his other shoulder. "And you too." 

"...I'm sorry, Olimar." Cetacea began. "Loosing  parent couldn't of been easy."

"She wasn't my-" Olimar retorted quickly, fur fluffing up from embarrassment. But then he paused and, after a few moments, his fur laid back down. He then let out a sigh, pulling both of his boys in closer. 

"Thank you."

[stimky-stencha]

Stencha's Jedi Diaries- Day 5

Dear Diary,

It’s been an uneventful first week since my arrival in the new world. I still have yet to meet anyone face to face, but I have finally found a settlement. The locals call it “Ponyville” and are comprised of various ponies, unicorns, and pegasi. I believe I have found the source of my physical transformation. I think Dad really did just send me to a pony dimension. Whether this pony world would contain a Jedi or not is up to investigation.

Unfortunately, I don’t think visiting the town would be a good idea. I had to spray a predator attempting to hunt me down, and the spray got all over my tail. Even if I’m able to cloak the big white stripe on my tail, the rancid smell is more than enough to draw unwanted attention. But then again, they may also have food and shelter. And I’ve been running low on food for the past five days. My stomach’s been killing me after all. Should I go ahead and take the risk?

…

Unfortunately, after very careful consideration (my tail stinks way too much), I have decided against going into town for food. Guess I’m going back to foraging for berries and nuts and whatnot.

As Stencha finished writing the draft in her journal, she heard shuffling from outside the cave which caused her to jump. Somehow, two of the world’s locals have found her.

“Pew-WEEE!!! What in the world is that stink!?” One of the ponies cried out as she put a nose plug over her nose.

“I think we found our friendship problem,” The other pony said covering her muzzle with her hoof.

“Hello? Is anypony in there?” The second pony asked as Stencha looked out to the entrance of the cave to see the two ponies' silhouettes. One of the ponies, the one with the noseplug, was a little pink pony with a matching poofy mane while the other pony without it was a little white unicorn with a luscious indigo mane. They saw the desperate look on Stencha’s face when she saw them. She wanted to ask them for help, but she had no idea if she could trust them, or if they’d even say yes.

“Are you lost? How long have you been in this cave? Do you need any help with anything?” The unicorn asked. The two ponies, while obviously repulsed by the stink, pushed through to make sure Stencha was okay even though they had no idea who she was. After looking up and seeing the unicorn stretch out her hoof to help Stencha up, it’s clear she was in safe hands now.

UPDATE TO LOG: I have been saved by two kind and generous souls who gladly took me to their home in town. The ponies call themselves “Pinkie Pie” and “Rarity”, and were more than willing to help clean the stink up off of me and make sure none of the other ponies thought I stunk too much (Pinkie Pie did this crazy thing where she held onto the stink fumes on my tail like a balloon to make sure no one caught a whiff). I have and almost will always be self-conscious about my stink, so I always make sure to use it as a last resort. And considering my connection to the Force and my Dad’s lightsaber, I hope I never will have to.

Speaking of which, while I was cleaning myself up (They almost fell for the tomato juice myth before I was able to stop them), they noticed my Dad’s saber and asked about it. I didn’t want to tell them too much in case they were to snitch on me or something, but I did tell them it belonged to my dad, who sacrificed himself to save me. And I said I wanted to honor his sacrifice by training to become a Jedi. Though I thought I was in for it when I said the word “Jedi”. Their eyes and ears perked up in shock the moment I said I wished to be one. I thought they were gonna screw me over or something.

Thankfully, though, it was the exact opposite outcome. Rarity said that one of her best friends recently revealed herself as a Jedi and is willing to tell her about me, as well as let me live in her boutique. I simply need to find a way to pay her back for her generosity. Maybe if I asked for a job in her boutique? She looks like she could use a helping hand…er, hoof, I guess.

I’m getting ahead of myself here.

Anyway, I guess I’m living in the Carousel Boutique now, and I’m expected to meet my new Master in the coming days.

This is it. I’m finally gonna be a Jedi.

I won’t let you down, Dad. I promise!

[mysteriesmuse]

Houseboat Holiday!🌊⛴️☀️!

Sardines or Couch? 🐟🐠🛏️

The evening drew to and end quickly. With a lot of yelling, banter, whispered teasing between you and the greenette’s, another round of chocolate and the celebratory cast off. Now Masaru manned the ships wheel as the rest of you tried to organize your stuff. Naturally Mitsuki was taking charge, “ok well, Inko, Masaru, and I have already claimed two of the cabins. Since we’re short on L/Ns -“ she smirked as she gave you the side eye, “- we actually have a lot more room than normal.” “So?” The three of you countered. Inko finished her friend thought, “nobody has to -“

and the boys finished for her giving a wicked loud high-five, “No Couch!” “told ya’ they’d take it just fine,” you beamed. To be honest they’d already explained that they didn’t think the boys would even fit on that giant couch anymore. Sleeping arrangements in the houseboat were always tricky where there were 4 cabins, 3 families, and 9 people. Thus, the parents all had their own rooms. Then, that left the coveted 4th room for kids or the L-shaped houseboat couch. Now the couch usually went on rotations every other summer. The back of an old grocery receipt in the kitchen drawer kept record. It always flipped between you and your brother (the obvious arrangement), you and Izuku (the calmest arrangement) your brother and Katsuki (the corresponding option to everyone’s favorite option), and the most frequent option: Izuku and Katsuki. So their current enthusiasm was understandable, “Enjoy it while it lasts. I don’t know what we’re gonna do next year when the other L/Ns arrive with their cute little family.” In front of you Izuku gasped, scraping the sides of the hallway with his luggage, “That’s right! Shota-Kun and Mei have a little baby baby now.” In front of him Katsuki ducked into their shared room, “with a newly manifested quirk.” “oh yeah, what is it again y/n?” Izuku asked following Katsuki. You filed into the room across from them, door wide open as a chorus of zippers started unpacking, “well, it sounds like it may be some form of x-ray like my dad.” You clicked your tongue, chucking your bathing suits into a drawer. “Although we’re not really sure yet. That’s why they’re all together right now, to figure it out.” Izuku hummed from the other room, “I think it’ll be super cool to see if it’s the same quirk.” “Totally! Although Mei’s animal communication quirk with my brothers lasers makes it anyone’s best guess.” “They’ll figure out the squirts quirk eventually,” Katsuki grunted, “if they don’t send us over. Nerd and I can figure it out.” you hummed, “ Shota told me they’ll invite you over to come visit Yuto anyway, but the way it’s been going they might could use some professionals on the job.” “We’d love that! Right Kacchan?” A resounding set of squeaks followed by silence came from the room. You padded over to their doorframe. “we’re never gonna be able to sleep like this!” Izuku covered his face with a hand muttering, “oh man . . .” “Boys you’re officially the human embodiment of sardines right now.” Katsuki threw his hands up into the air jostling Izuku who just stared at him looking defeated, “nows not the time for er’ sass!”

Drumming your fingers against the wall your smile turned into a frown. Seriously? You hung your head before you shouted, “Hey! Aunties we’re gonna need the couch blankets for this trip after all!” ——— （´-`）.｡oO (real life representation of reader)

You’d heroically sacrificed your room for Izuku and settled into the couch hours ago. Now it was the dark hours of the morning when a captains change would happen. ——— Katsuki went about the boat as quietly as he could. Squeezing sideways through that squeaky-ass door and padding out into the living room where the indoors captain wheel was. he squinted his way around the place. Luckily you kids knew it like the back of your hands. Itd been ages since he’d last been on this boat. Last few summers were just him and Izuku busy doing hero training where here you were hanging out with your family. Going off to college and doing a heck of a lot of academia. You coulda been a hero too if you’d wanted, but ya’ never took an interest to it like him and Deku.

A figure stood up from a chair, “Waters easy, still drizzling out there so you can’t see much.” His dad slapped him on the back with a yawn, “see you in the morning light, son.” Katsuki was one of the best captains out of the collective families bunch. Eventually, he’d learn to pilot the whole thing by staying up late at night with Shota while your fathers whispered as they manned the ship. He’s a hell of a lot better at blackjack from those nights too. Makes hanging out at the bar more manageable with his other annoying friends. He grumbled out a, “Night pops’” before settling into the captains chair. “good to know I can still fit.” “g’d to know what?”

Katsuki turned around in a flash, well now his heart was racing. Damn it. “how’d ya? I was being quiet!” He hissed. you stretched like a kitten underneath an old quilt before curling back up into a ball. you waved a hand, hair falling down against your face, “heard ya’ change with your dad. Hmm, sorry to startle ya’ hero.” His ears turned pink, right. So even as a pro he couldn’t sneak up on you without waking you. So much for those stealth lessons from Aizawa. You wriggled deeper into the blanket, lips barely parting, “everyone back asleep now . . .” he sighed watching the familiar adolescent glint of a retainer in your mouth as your chest lightly rose and fall. A heart pulsing that only you could hear. A whole boat full of 6 different hearts that only you could hear from your hazy dream on the couch. An oceans worth of thumping hearts pulsing underneath the waves. He sighed, steeling his own, he’d forgotten to expect you’d wake up, “goodnight, senior.” in a minute you groaned flipping up onto your forearms to blankly stare at him, “give it a rest ‘suki! And don’t laugh at your own joke. Don’t argue, I can hear it! Your heart picked up, you thought it was funny.” Katsuki poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He had to admit it was still funny, “alright alright, can’t help that you’re old.” he heard you flop down and flip over, “it’s a few days!” Oh, it was good to be back. “thanks for taking the couch.” “your welcome, you big baby.”

[tumbling-darkling]

The boy who lived and the professor that didn’t (for the most part)

AO3

During Harry's second year at Hogwarts, a strange and unexpected man starts teaching his Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

(A Danny Phantom X Harry Potter crossover)

Chapter 1

Harry took a seat in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, glancing over to Ron who sat beside him and then scanning the classroom for their new DA professor. He already met the man in Diagon Alley, blonde and very much interested in only himself. Harry shivered as he remembered being pushed towards him as people took pictures of the famous wizard and the boy who lived.

At least it wasn’t worse than a head of the dark lord growing out of the back of the professor's neck.

Well- Harry did thumb through some of the textbooks before classes started. He absolutely agreed with Hermione who was very vocal about the books- they didn’t actually seem to teach anything. Just spoke about the ‘many adventures of Gilderoy Lockhart’.

Maybe this will just end up being an easy class.

The door slammed open 15 minutes past the start of class, startling the students as they swiveled their heads to look at the newcomer, expecting Gilderoy Lockhart.

Instead a tall man with a slim frame and hunched posture strode into the room. He had messy black hair pulled in a very horrible and tangled loose bun with the remaining dreads lazily dangling at the man's shoulders, his chin and cheeks covered in unshaven stubble. His robe was creased and torn, his hat loosely hanging from his hand and his sleeves pushed almost all the way up his arms. What really caught people’s attention was those eyes. Unnaturally clear and bright icy blue, so blue that even in the bright light they seemed to slightly glow.

He quickly pulled down his sleeves as he walked past the students towards the front of the room, grumbling slightly under his breath about something Harry couldn’t catch. He tossed the hat aside, muttering more loudly about how ‘wizard hats are so stupid and impractical I’m not wearing that garbage’ before he turned towards the class.

“My name is Fenton- er Professor Fenton I guess. Since I’ll be teaching you about…” he glanced down at the podium he stood in front of, crouching a little as if looking for something before straightening back up. “Defense… Against the… Dark… Arts,” he said slowly and not very confidently. Then he whispered again to himself but just loud enough for some students to pick up, “they see me fight one god damn ghost and suddenly I’m an expert on all dark magic entities? I think I’ll fight Dumbledore after this.” He straightened a little, eyes looking over the classes.

Harry did not like those eyes lingering on him for half a second longer than the others. He didn’t like this professor looking at him at all.

Something just didn’t feel right.

“Alright, any questions?”

A hand immediately went up, and Harry knew exactly who it belonged to.

“Uh- yes miss-?”

“Hermione Granger. Wasn’t our professor supposed to be Gilderoy Lockhart?”

“Yeah- that guy. He’s a phoney.”

The class went silent before someone yelled out, “WHAT?”

“Guy went around, found Wizards and Witches that did cool things, made them forget it then took all the credit. Tried to take my credit and I hit him a little too hard. Now I’m here taking his place. It’s all over the news, you know. You can read the exaggerated details in there. Anything else?”

The same hand went up.

Professor Fenton sighed, “yes?”

“Why were you 15 minutes late? Shouldn’t professors be on time? And why do you look like you crawled out of the forbidden forest.”

“I fought a ghost. Then got lost,” Fenton deadpanned.

The class went silent.

Fenton then turned around, “well if that’s all, let’s get started with something I know a lot about. What do you already know about Ghosts?”

-

-

-

“You’re seriously more afraid of Professor Fenton than Professor Snape?” Hermione asked Ron. “He’s not even mean! Sure he’s grumpy but he doesn’t beat down every question I ask him! He even seems to be glad I’m asking questions! Unlike Professor Snape who just treats us like idiots for not knowing something.”

“Sure- he’s not mean or cruel but… he just freaks me out. Like how he just stares sometimes at empty walls! Or how the room temperature always drops the moment he seems to take a single step into the room! I can’t even hear his footsteps when he walks! He’s bloody freaky is what he is!”

“Well I for one am glad he’s our Professor! Imagine having a phony for a professor! Though he talks a lot about ghosts. Ghosts can’t cause people harm. At most they give a little scare but it’s not like they could cause terrible damage.”

“What about those ectoplasm based ones he was talking about? The solid ones?” Harry asked.

“Rare and unlikely. Ectoplasm doesn’t form in the magical world, Harry! The stuff that leaks through and hangs in the air is only enough to allow ghosts like Nick or Myrtle to hang around in harmless ways.”

“But he said he fought a ghost before he arrived in class! And he looked really beat up!”

“He said he got lost too! Maybe he just stumbled across a guard dog like Fluffy and made up something about ghosts!”

“What if it’s like the last professor though? What if he’s looking for another secret object in Hogwarts walls?” Harry hissed softly, “Ron is right that he just has a sense of oddness about him! I just don’t trust him!”

“Harry, you’re just paranoid from last year. Professor Fenton is normal. Now pick up your pace, we’re going to be late for our next class!”

-

-

-

Professor Fenton glanced down at Harry, then back at Professor McGonagall, “he has what with me?”

“Detention. You see, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley caused a bit of a fuss by driving a flying car in plain sight of several muggles, and risked exposing the magical world. As such, his punishment has been detention. I trust you can find some fitting work for him to do as he reflects on his actions?”

Fenton crosses his arms, his mouth tightening slightly into a grimace as his fingers slightly tapped his own arms. “This won’t be every night, will it?” He asked.

“No, we will be switching supervisors for a few weeks but you may also need to supervise Mr. Weasley sometime before then.”

Fenron let out a sigh of defeat, “well- alright. I’ll take care of it then.”

Professor McGonagall gave a curt nod before turning stiffly and walking off. Professor Fenton scratched at the back of his neck as he watched her walk off, then glanced down at Harry, those eyes seeming to search him for… something. Then that stern look relaxed into a lopsided grin, “So you were the one that made that stuck up ministry trip over their hats and scramble around in blind panic! I say, hats off to you young Potter!” He laughed.

Harry blinked in confusion at the shift in mood, then Fenton patted him on the back, “hey, no need to look so freaked out! I’m not gonna bite ya!” He began walking forward, and it took Harry an extra second to realize that the professor was moving and he should follow. “Oh, wait you probably are a little freaked out, huh? I guess my mood could have been a bit better this morning, I was just a little flabbergasted today. I was kinda rushed into this position, you know.” He shrugged, his hands shoved into his cloak’s pockets. He didn’t really walk like any of the other Hogwarts professors. He had this relaxed saunter, like he was more of a visiting relative than a staff member. “Say, let’s say your ‘punishment’ will just be helping me bring some books from the library to my quarters. There’s a lot I need to run through and a single trip would make all the difference.”

Harry nodded, finding it hard to keep up with the man's long strides. “So… you don’t like the ministry of magic?” Harry asked.

Professor Fenton huffed in annoyance, “not one bit. They are almost worse than observants!” Harry had no idea what those were. Another level of magic government? “They try to control every little thing. Don’t expose magic to the normal world. Don’t use magic to make technology without permission. Don’t use magic to save muggle children if people are watching.” His said in a mocking tone, “they have so many rules that are outdated or stupid. Never trust a government, kid! Especially a magical one!”

“What are… observants?”

Fenton glanced down at Harry, “oh those stuck up jerks? They are like the government of the ghost realm. Really annoying. Unlike the Ministry of Magic, they actually know how to find me!” He laughed.

“Ghosts have governments?”

“Oh yeah! They have more of a monarchy, the observants are like hermit wizards that only step in when they believe the world is in peril. Meanwhile the rest falls on the shoulders of the Ghost King.”

Harry frowned, “I’ve never read about that in the textbooks. Hermione says that ghosts are just harmless beings formed from souls that aren’t ready to leave the mortal realm.”

“Well she’s half right. There’s different kinds of ghosts, like Sir Nicolas and the Bloody Baron. They are more like echoes. Souls that cling desperately to this world but didn’t have enough ectoplasm to become a fully solid ectoplasmic being. They won’t leave for the infinite realms until they are ready, though many believe they are trapped here forever. More solid ghosts form in a similar way but are exposed to more ectoplasm, but rarely show up because natural portals to the infinite realms are sparse and in between. Well until about a decade ago.”

“Infinite Realms? Natural Portals?” Harry felt like his head was going to explode.

“Well, there should be some books about that in the muggle section.. Though some wizards would say it’s all garbage because muggles discovered and studied it. Just look up my name under the author and you should find some.”

“Oh… wait- did you write them? Is that why you know so much about ghosts?”

Professor Fenton barked out a loud laugh, doubling over as he clutched his sides, “Ah! No! No, I didn’t write them! My parents did!” He cackled. “Ah, yeah but I did learn from them. And a bit of field work. Tell Miss Granger to check them out too, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind having something to read. She reminds me of my sister in that way.” He stopped in front of the library doors, “Aha! I knew we would find this place eventually!”

Harry looked at Professor Fenton in bewilderment, “you didn’t know where we were going?!”

Fenton shook his head and shot him another grin, “nope! I’ve been constantly getting lost in these dumb halls. This place constantly moves and I absolutely hate it. Even the Infinite Realms make more sense than this castle!”

Harry stuttered, “If the infinite realms is where ghosts go, isn’t that like… the afterlife? You’ve been to the afterlife?”

Professor Fenton lazily shrugged and opened the doors to the library, “yes and no. It’s all complicated. I’ll tell you a different time.”

Harry stood there for a few more seconds as his brain tried to catch up with the information, and once he managed to close his mouth he chased after the Professor.

-

-

-

Harry glanced around the Professors room as he followed after him, arms filled with books that seemed to suspiciously be only about the Dark Arts. He’d never been to a professor's living quarters, at most he had been in some offices. Even so, it was not at all what he imagined a wizard's living quarters would look like.

First off, there seemed to be technology. He recognized a coffee machine on a low table, but it wasn’t plugged into anything. There was an odd box that looked like a slightly smaller television, it’s screen black and wires sticking out of it attached to a rectangular box with a lot of buttons on top of it and a small round device. There was also a radio, and a huge telescope leaning out the largest window. As Harry looked, he began to notice spaceships literally in every corner of the room. Different kinds as well, some would even move and blast off. The most amazing part was the roof of his room. It was almost exactly like the great hall as it rose into dark nothingness, but the stars were MUCH brighter and all the constellations had been traced out, some brighter than others. For someone who knew a lot about ghosts, he seemed to really like space. Then there were also some odd things thrown around, like a very weird looking thermos. Or a metal… boomerang?

“Just place them over here, Harry!” Fenton called as he dropped his pile of books onto a couch in the corner. Harry did as he was told, placing the books down a little more gently than the professor did.

“Professor… how did you get these things to work? Technology usually… explodes around magic,” Harry asked.

“Oh! Well it’s because I power them myself!” Professor Fenton chirped. “They don’t work the same way as regular technology. Again, I recommend checking out some of the notes in the Fentons books, they have a lot of stuff that works in the magical realm.”

“Why would you need it though? Doesn’t magic make up for a lot of technology?” Harry asked.

“Ah, but that’s where you are wrong you see! There is nothing in the magical world that is equivalent to the coffee machine!”

Harry blinked, “... what.”

“It’s a very important machine, Harry. You will depend greatly on it once you need to stay up for an entire week. But! It seems our time together has come to an end. Thanks for your help, Harry, and if McGonagall asks, tell her I made you scrub toilets or something,” he winked.

Harry grinned back, heading towards the doorway to go find Ron and Hermione. He closed the door behind and the moment it clicked shut, he saw a flash appear from under the door.

He paused slightly, but shrugged. Maybe a comet passed by on the enchanted roof of his room. He then headed down the halls to find his friends.

-

-

-

“Not normally invited?” Harry asked.

Hermione nodded, “Ghosts throw death day parties like birthday parties, but rarely do they ever invite living people!”

“I see, so Sir Nick really wanted us to be there,” Harry pondered as the trio entered the party area. He immediately was hit with an awful stench, nearly gagging before he had to swallow it as Sir Nicholas noticed their arrival and approached swiftly with the widest smile they had ever seen on his face.

“Harry! Ron! Hermione! You all made it! Oh this brings such joy to my cold, dead heart!”

“Glad to see you as well, Sir Nick,” Harry struggled not to gag on the smell.

“Say, why do ghosts even celebrate the day they died? Isn’t that… like a very traumatic experience you would rather not remember?” Ron somehow managed to ask.

“Well, ghosts like to celebrate it to commodirate a start to a new chapter of our afterlife!” He paused, glancing across the room for a split second, “most ghosts that is, and the death day isn’t to remind us of our death. It more serves to encourage us to look forward! No one really wants to remember how we died. Never a pretty picture.”

Harry followed Nicholas’s gaze for the split second glance, then noticed a ghost he had never seen before. He ignored the smell (they would have to ask about that later) and nudged Hermione, pointing at the ghost, “hey Hermione, have you ever seen that ghost around the castle before? I don’t remember seeing him from last year…”

The ghost in question seemed so much stranger than the rest, he had a brighter glow, where he should have had legs, merged into what seemed to be a ghostly tail, drifting lazily like caught in a breeze. Long hair whiter than snow itself drifted around like caught underwater, and bits that weren’t drifting were braided neatly and lost in the rest of it as it constantly moved. The ghost had purple skin, pointed ears, green freckles dotting his cheeks and long sharp fangs showing as he laughed at another ghost's joke. He dressed like a medieval lord, wearing a delicately detailed black and white tunic tucked into a braided belt circling his waist, his ghostly tail completely black. Thick white leather gloves covered both his hands as he waved them around while he spoke. A white cape hung off his shoulders, but when the cape occasionally drifted to show the inside, it was like the ghost had taken the night sky and attached it to the garment. Thick fur wrapped around his shoulders and long and sharp horns that looked like ice circled his head like a crown.

Toxic green eyes that had irises that seemed to swirl around the pupil glanced at the trio and Harry suddenly felt very very small.

“I… don’t know. I haven’t even heard of any ghost that looked like him before,” Hermione seemed like she was at a loss, probably scouting through her thoughts and memories for any trace or mention of the unfamiliar ghost.

Sir Nicholas cut in, “oh! That may be because King Phantom doesn’t live in this castle! He’s mainly only here to visit for the year!”

Ron gapped, “... did you say… king? Was he a king before he died?”

Sir Nicholas frowned, “no, of course not! He’s the king of all ghosts! King of the infinite realms! The one who defeated Pariah Dark in single combat barely a year after he died! The youngest and most beloved king we ghosts have had in such a very long time.”

“There’s a king of ghosts? And that’s him?” Harry asked.

“That’s what I just said, my dear boy. Keep up!”

“I don’t want to seem rude, Sir Nicholas but… why is he here?” Hermione gasped, “if he really is such a powerful and imposing figure, doesn’t he have a lot of duties to fulfil?”

“Well, he told us he was technically here on business but that it requires time and an investigation that could take a few months. So he could visit and celebrate with us from time to time! He’s a very relaxed man, I assure you. Here let me introduce you all to him! My Liege! I have some friends you absolutely must meet!”

The King looked over and smiled widely, “friends, you say?” His voice echoed more than the other ghosts, seeming to carry across the room as he spoke. He then blinked in surprise and turned to Nick, “Sir Nicholas… you realize these three are still amongst the living?”

“Why of course! Harry is the Boy Who Lived! The first to survive the death spell!” Sir Nicholas said quite proudly.

The King drifted down towards the three, causing Ron to slightly flinch at his approach, his hands clasped together as worry seemed to etch on his face, “well, most ghosts don’t have a very good sense of smell or taste, right? Which is why we have all the rotting food out?”

“Yes?” Sir Nicholas still didn’t seem to catch on.

King Phantom held out his hand, producing clothing hanger clips made purely of ice, “The living can still very much smell and taste, and I don’t think it’s exactly the smell of roses and lavender.”

Sir Nicholas blinked, “oh. Oh! Oh Harry and friends, I apologize for forgetting such a detail!”

Harry, Ron and Hermione all graciously accept the clips, pinning them on their noses to escape the horrid smell. Then Hermione turned towards the Ghost King with a glint in her eyes, “wait- how did you do that? Ghosts aren’t this solid- and they definitely can’t use magic!”

Phantom chuckled, drifting back into the air as he pointed to the crown of ice horns on his head, “Well first off, I’m the king so I get some bonuses. As well as not all ghosts work the same. You should try listening to that Dark Arts professor of yours when he talks about ghosts. He’s quite knowledgeable about all things not living.”

“But- but years of documentation and research-!” Hermione tried to argue before the King tutted.

“Information is constantly changing and growing, something that seems pretty constant could change in seconds and turn your whole world upside down. Not to mention, many different types of ghosts like myself only became more common recently. Before, most of us were confined to the infinite realms, only ghosts like Sir Nicholas forming for many centuries and the different kinds rarely slipped out.”

“Well-, what changed?” Hermione challenged.

King Phantom sported a playful grin, “I d̶͙͉̓̓i̷̢̩̬̘̟̽ę̴̘̲̹̤͌̊d̸̢̳̞̄.”

He then turned and left the three on that note as he went to join other ghosts at the party.

“What does he mean by that?” Hermione huffed.

“He’s got an odd sense of humour, that’s for sure,” Sir Nicholas laughed.

-

-

-

Harry couldn’t stop his glare that shot towards Professor Snape as he accused Harry of petrifying Mrs. Norris and writing the bloody message that stained the wall. Before he could snap back at him that he did not do any of this, Professor Fenton seemed to almost step out of thin air to his defense.

“Mr. Potter was with me all night, he did not do this,” his voice laced with a chilling venom. Was he… lying for him?

Snape tilted his chin up, attempting to look down on Fenton who was no longer hunched, and instead stood tall at his full height. It was quite difficult to do as it turned out, Fenton towered over every other Professor in the area. “And who, pray tell, are you?” Snape seemed to almost spit.

A sinister grin spread across the tall Professor's features as he stepped in front of Harry, leaning menacingly over the shorter wizard and blocking his view of the student, “Professor Fenton, the professor of the Dark Arts. Accusing a second year of such a powerful spell isn’t a very wise take, now is it Professor Snape?” Fenton basically spat his name.

Snape glared back, “you would be surprised what Potter is capable of, especially the trouble he gets himself in.”

“How about you try not pinning the blame on a 12 year old child?”

“That is enough out of both of you,” Dumbledore stepped in. “We all know Harry was not responsible for this, as Professor Fenton’s defence is true. We have a healthy patch of mandrake roots that will cure Mrs. Norris of her petrification, and students will resume their classes while the professors investigate the issue. Now you three will return to your dorms for the rest of the night.”

Harry hesitated before he headed back towards the dorms, but didn’t fail to notice how Professor Fenton’s eyes flashed toxic green, or the wink sent in his direction.

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Doctor Y/n - Ortho Fellowship - 6 - Grey's Anatomy x Fem!Reader

"Hey. It's snowing." Owen announced, smiling as Teddy grinned at the idea.

The two of them stood in coats, watching the snow fall.

Until they heard a shriek, spotting you being pelted by snowballs thrown by three children of a patient who had gotten too impatient for the waiting room.

"She's having fun. What are you guys doing for Christmas?" Teddy enquired, her eyes still on the snow as Owen turned to look at her.

"Oh, you know, Leo's too young to absorb any of it. But, I think we're going to do presents and cocoa and cinnamon buns and all that. Hopefully some of it will stick." Owen explained, smiling as Teddy kept looking at the snow, until he realised she was watching you play with the children on the other side of the area too.

"And Amelia has to visit Betty. So we're gonna um, have Christmas dinner tomorrow night, and Amelia wanted to invite you."

"No, no, no thanks, no. I'm covering for you in the pit, remember?" Teddy reminded him, her hand subconsciously going to her bump as she looked up at the sky.

"We're gonna find our own traditions, too." Owen smiled, leaving Teddy to nod.

"I know, I've already found one I may have borrowed from Y/n. Merry Christmas Owen." Teddy smiled before heading inside.

Owen paused as he watched you guide the three children back inside into the warm of the ER, a frown on his face as he thought.

///

"Braces! You're coming to our New Year's Eve party, right?" Jo caught you drying your clothes with a towel.

"Uh, yeah, do you need me to bring anything?" You enquired, tilting your head to the side as Jo grinned.

"Yourself, maybe some of those dried oranges? They'd contrast the decorations really well if we put them on a cake?" Jo asked, smirking as you looked at her confusedly.

"How'd you know I was drying oranges-"

"Because you smell like dried oranges, and cinnamon, you smell really good actually." Jo complimented, laughing as you paused to sniff your scrubs.

"Don't let the rumour mill hear that, Joey." You chuckled before walking away, waving at Link dressed as Santa.

///

"So, you're spending Christmas on shift too?"

You paused as you sipped the coffee you'd just poured, meeting her eyes with amusement.

"It's that or sitting in my apartment alone. The apartment smells like christmas, but I don't really celebrate, besides food. The presents depend on my friends love languages." You explained, turning so you and Teddy could walk down the hallway together.

///

Your eyes widened as you arrived at the Karev's loft for the New Years Eve party.

"You look grumpy. What's up?" You enquired as you spotted DeLuca frowning.

"I got stood up." He grumbled, shrugging before walking away to the bar, leaving you to frown at the empty space left behind.

"Oh, would Ben think it's a booty call? He might think that that's a booty call." Bailey asked Teddy, who raised an eyebrow as you walked over.

"Well, maybe that's not such a bad thing." Teddy suggested, running a hand over her bump.

"I second that." You stated, smiling as Jo gave you a side hug.

"Hey everyone, it's almost midnight!" Jo announced as Alex began to hand out champagne.

"I'm good, I have cake!" You smiled, laughing as Alex chuckled at the slice of cake in your hand.

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!"

Everyone cheered as you turned to meet Teddy's eyes, her smile meeting them as you mouthed "happy new year!" to her.

"Happy new year, Y/n." Teddy mouthed back, smiling as you ate the slice of cake you'd been holding.

It was only when you'd eaten the slice of cake that she moved forwards so she could ask you to dance.

///

"Y/n, Owen's running late, can you walk me up to my scan?" Teddy enquired as she spotted you by the nurses station.

"Sure, is everything okay?" You replied, walking with Teddy towards OB.

"It's just an ultrasound, but I think we'll be able to find out the sex today." Teddy admitted, smiling as you nodded.

"I'm happy for you, Teddy." You smiled, about to leave when Teddy grabbed your hand.

"Owen's late, I need to get back to the pit, can you stay?" Teddy asked, smiling as you took her hand, standing to the side in case Owen arrived.

"Hey, sorry I'm late- you already started? What is she doing here? S/n, what are you doing here?" Owen asked as he walked in.

"This gel is really cold, and I have to get back to the pit. I wanted Y/n here." Teddy stated, shivering at the coldness of the gel.

"You said we were going to do these things together. You can't just- S/n, you can go now." Owen dismissed you, but Teddy didn't let go of your hand.

"What do you want me to do? Every time I have to be a parent, I wait for you?"

You zoned out, chatting to the nurse who was doing the ultrasound as Teddy and Owen began to argue.

Luckily, the heartbeat of the baby shut both of them up, leaving you to smile softly and try not to feel awkward as they had their happiness.

"We're having a baby girl." Owen smiled, hugging Teddy as she dropped your hand to hug him back.

You smiled at the two of them, ignoring the ache in your chest by slipping towards the door.

///

"Don't judge me. I saw a bed. I laid down on it. My feet are very angry at me." Teddy stated as Tom found her laying in a bed, running her hand over her bump.

"I know what you need. You should get S/n to take you, her name is Mimi at Pink Bunny. Best mani-pedi in Seattle."

"Why does that make perfect sense that you have a favourite nail salon?" Teddy chuckled, leaving Tom to mention not wanting to dig around someone's brain with sloppy cuticles.

"If you ever want to experience pure bliss for $29, let me know, and I'll wrangle S/n in somehow, I know, I'll tell her it'll make her more mermaidy." Tom smirked before heading out.

"Hey, I got you... whatever this is, I know you can't help your cravings, but this is a unique combination." You stated, arriving with what Teddy had admitted she had been craving for a few days.

"You are a lifesaver!" Teddy admitted, taking the food with a grin as you rolled your eyes.

"Are you talking to me or the food?"

/// February ///

"Braces spending Valentines Day alone?" Jo gasped as she spotted you picking through a box of chocolates that had been left in the fellows lounge.

"Oh please, I only ever spent one Valentines Day with someone, so it's nothing new." You retorted, flicking one of the foils from the chocolates at her face.

"Mm, you and Leah, I remember-"

"You knew?" You murmured, ignoring her eyes as Jo sat down next to you.

"I figured it out at my wedding, you and Leah had vibes... and now I know who defiled you by covering you in hickies-"

"Oh my god!" You cut Jo off by throwing a chocolate into her mouth.

///

"Hey. Are you ready?" Teddy's voice had you looking up from the fellows lounge sofa.

"Yeah, do you want a chocolate?" You enquired, gesturing to the chocolate on the table.

"I'd love one, thanks lady-lover." Tom interrupted, taking a chocolate as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"This isn't a date, is it?" Tom chuckled, leaving you to roll your eyes as you and Tom followed Teddy to help her search for houses to move into, so she wouldn't be staying in the hotel anymore.

Then, after that, Tom had persuaded you to go with them to the nail saloon.

"This is better than sex." Teddy admitted as she got a pedicure, leaving you to chuckle as Tom admitted that every pregnant woman he'd brought to the establishment had said the same thing.

"Am I here as a third-wheel-"

"If anything, Y/n, I am the third-wheel here." Tom admitted, raising an eyebrow as you gave him a confused look.

"Oh, oh, dinner is here- nice colour you went with by the way Y/n." Tom added, giving you a soft smile as you tensed.

"You sound like the foster father I never had and that is terrifying because-"

"Oh, god no, I was aiming for fun uncle or older brother. Shepherd and apparently Robbins have already adopted you." Tom remarked, winking at Teddy as she quirked a brow.

///

You were laying in bed when your phone begin to ring, revealing Arizona wanting to video call.

"Why are you in bed, it's like 7pm for you-" Arizona began, pausing as you rolled your eyes and wrapped the blanket further around you.

"I'm cold and lonely, why are you calling at 10pm? Is Sofia asleep? Am I interrupting anything? Wait, you called me." You realised as Arizona chuckled.

"No, no, nothing like that, Callie's on shift and I realised we hadn't spoken since before Valentines, which I saw you spent with Teddy and Tom Koracick? Were you third-wheeling that or-"

"He said he was the third-wheel, like, yeah, Teddy's absolutely amazing and beautiful, and a badass, but she's having Hunt's baby." You rambled, not noticing how Arizona was smirking more and more as you spoke.

Because it sounded an awfully lot like you liked Teddy Altman.

///

Tags: @nnightskiess @emskisworld @multifandomlesbianic

[sweeterthansammy]

Better Than Sex? || Trevor Belmont

Trevor Belmont x Female Pirate!Reader; Reader plays the role of Trevor’s wife.

Summary: When Trevor claims that ale is better than sex, Y/N gives him the worst case of blue balls.

Genre: Smut

Written in third person point of view.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, fingering, fisting (?), vaginal penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, orgasm denial, hair pulling, biting, choking, mild language, sexual innuendos (throughout the imagine), mentions of drinking, mentions of smoking, mentions of pregnancy, & Trevor being the horny little shit he is lmao

A/N: So, I posted this on my first piece on AO3 and let me just tell you...I FUCKING HATE IT. Anywho, enjoy this while I go to sleep :)

Word count: 3.5k

She twisted her neck as she sat down, groaning audibly at the stiffness in her neck.

“Rough day, m’lady?” the clerk asked, filling a tankard with the cold ale before slipping it in front of her.

“You bet your arse it was a tough day,” she replied, taking a swig of the ale as she gripped onto the stein. “I’ve got my husband groaning about the number of night creatures he’s killed in one night, my crew complaining about me leaving. I just needed a nice cold-”

“Stein of ale.”

The voice was familiar enough.

“How the fuck did you find me?” she asked, annoyance bountiful in her tone.

She loved Trevor to bits but having him up her behind all day was becoming a whole task.

“It isn’t very hard when you’re practically married to yourself,” he snarkily chuckled, tilting his head back as the yellow liquid streamed down his throat. “Oh my god, that is better than sex.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest before kicking his stool. Never underestimate the leg of a pirate - that was rule number one in Trevor’s book to marrying a pirate. His malt came spewing out of the mug, landing all over the lower half of his face and the collar of his shirt as he landed flat on his bottom.

“Glad it’s better than sex, Trevor,” she hummed, taking one last sip of her ale before slinging her coat over her shoulders, swiftly making her way out of the pub.

“That’s why I never got married,” the clerk retorted, drying a stein before placing it rim-down on the counter.

-

“Better than sex, he says,” she grumbled as she lathered lotion onto the spans of her legs after stepping out of the shower. “Can’t fucking believe he’d embarrass me like that!”

She trudged out of the bathroom, slamming their bedroom door shut behind her before dropping her towel, stepping into a silky nightgown before getting under the covers. She cried aloud as she heard his groans downstairs, just now coming home from the bar. She placed the covers over her head, trying to drown out the sound of him stumbling up the steps but it was near to impossible. He barged into the room, reeking of nothing but ale and other assortments of alcohol.

“Trevor, go take a shower-”

She was cut off by his hands taking a hold of the underside of her knees, pulling her to the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice stern as he caressed her thighs.

“Can we?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side as she rolled her eyes.

“You don’t want me to kick you in the balls, do you?”

“No.”

“Then I highly suggest that you let go of my legs before I do.”

He dropped her legs with a whine, falling forward so his forehead rested against her chest. She carded her fingers through his hair, a residue of his sweat on her fingers as he pulled away from her, leaning on his hands as he towered over her.

“Go shower and maybe I’ll let you bury ya little cock inside of me,” she chuckled, softly kissing his lips before pushing him away.

He stood, rubbing his eyes like a child as he left the room.

“It’s not little!”

“Hurry up! I’m not wearing any underwear,” she teased, a fit of laughter consuming her as she heard the shower turn on in an instant.

By the time he’d drunkenly lathered soap all over his body, he was near to asleep. Y/N had been fast asleep, the shower running for twenty minutes straight. He blundered into the room, briefly waking Y/N before she scolded him “to turn the light off and go to sleep.”

“But you said-”

“Trevor, just get in bed,” she said, her voice fading into a whisper before soft snores left her mouth.

He dove under the covers, a heavy arm throwing itself over Y/N’s waist as his hand reached up to rest itself atop one of her breasts.

“Horny even in your sleep,” she muttered, turning onto her other side to face him before throwing a leg over his waist, her arm splaying itself across his back.

-

A week or two had passed and Y/N was quite proud of herself. She hadn’t fallen for Trevor’s weak attempts to get in her underwear. She wasn’t letting her hard demeanor fall no matter what he proposed. 

Though she wasn’t giving in to him, she was doing a whole lot of teasing - biting and sucking his sweet spots in the midst of a makeout, wrapping her legs around his waist and running her nails over his clothed black, and most of all, stripping down to just her underwear before heading to the bathroom to shower. 

Tonight they were taking a trip to Alucard’s castle, visiting him after many long-awaited months. Y/N was far more excited to rejoice with their friends than anything, hurrying to get on the carriage while Trevor struggled with her bags.

“Oh, right,” she muttered, hopping off of the carriage before taking her bags from Trevor, throwing them in the back.

“Thank you,” he snarled, a sigh following.

The ride was everything Y/N could have imagined. Though it became cold at night, Y/N greatly adored the trees adorned by emerald leaves and birds chirping throughout the forest. Night creatures were the least of her worries, she and Trevor taking them down in less than ten minutes. 

On the contrary, the ride was dreadful for Trevor. He and Y/N spent many hours with their lips locked, her ending up on his lap somehow, but it was her motive to stick to her plan, hopping off of him as he went to undo the buttons of her shirt. At this point, he was tired of it but he hadn’t exactly done anything to prove so.

“Please?! I won’t be long, I promise,” he’d beg.

“It’s quite a bumpy ride, it’s going to become uncomfortable very quick.”

“Then we can pull over!”

“Night creatures. And villagers. It’d be embarrassing if we were to get caught by anyone or anything. Besides, I’d lose my drive after having to sever off the head of a human-sized wolf.”

Trevor indignantly accepted his fate, remaining silent for the majority of the rest of the trip.

-

“Alucard!”

She was quick to jump off of the carriage, stretching a bit before running to greet her pale best friend.

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” he chuckled, his hands lingering on the small of her back as he peered at her. “Y’know, I’d expect you to be knocked up after not seeing you for so long.”

She chuckled, glancing around to find him popping a cigar between his lips.

“I’ve given him possibly the bluest balls ever since we’ve been together.”

“You are a terrible woman,” he grinned, slipping past her as he went to greet Trevor.

Settling down in the castle that night was far beyond elating, Sypha arriving quite late but still making it in time for dinner.

“You know,” Y/N started, taking a sip of wine after swallowing the bit of roasted potato in her mouth. “I was seriously stunned by how attractive you were when you first floated out of your coffin and I was tempted to drop to my knees right there and then only to be turned down after telling me that you didn’t go that way.”

As Sypha and Alucard laughed away, Trevor glared at her, his jaw clenching at the unnecessary insight of information.

“And I was greatly upset when Trevor made his move on you. I was waiting to pounce on him but then I realized how hot you two looked together,” Sypha giggled, bringing her attention to Trevor’s reddened face. “Of course, I don’t feel that way about you know. I’m more so jealous of the fact that you’re married to her. I’m not sure if it’s the insane amount of sex you guys have been having but she looks gorgeous. She’s always been beautiful but the pregnancy glow that is to come,” she paused, kissing her fingertips. “Chef’s kiss.”

“Why does everyone think that I’m pregnant or I’m going to be pregnant?” she asked, a fit of laughter following as she took a sip of wine from the glass in front of her. “I wouldn’t be drinking this much if I were.”

“Well, you’re postponing it,” Trevor mumbled, earning a guffaw from the other pair as he’d muttered loud enough not only for Y/N to hear but for anyone within five feet to hear.

“Piece of shit,” she muttered, quiet enough for no one to hear.

Drinks flowed like water, the group intoxicating themselves as each hour passed.

“Come dance with me,” Alucard encouraged, standing in the center of the living area as he put his record player on.

“Had you figured out how to not step on someone’s feet while dancing or do I have to smack you upside the head like I did the first time?” Y/N asked, fixing the button of her blouse ere to taking Alucard’s hand.

“You’ll just have to find out,” he winked, pulling her body flush against his while his other hand slithered around to meet her waist.

Y/N watched as Sypha dragged Trevor to dance with her, her eyes getting caught with the cerulean ones she was infatuated with. She grinned at him, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth as she shot him a wink. Alucard spun her around, their feet moving in a series of patterns with one hand onto his shoulder and the other in his palm.

“And switch,” he called to Sypha, the two boys switching their partners.

“And we meet again, Belmont,” she sultrily spoke, one arm draping over his shoulder while the hand of the other took ahold of his stubbled-chin.

Her chest was pressed against his, her breasts nearing his collarbones as his arm that remained tight around her waist found a way to hoist her body.

“You’re such a little fuckin’ tease, you know that?” he grumbled, his teeth nipping at the skin of her neck.

“What? Am I gonna get punished for it?” she mocked a pout, her cleavage on full display as the buttons of her shirt slowly came undone.

He responded with a growl, his fingertips digging into the plump flesh of her ass. Their legs were an entangled mess; her knee pressed right up to his crotch and his thigh firm against her clothed sex.

“Might as well just fuck me in front of them,” she muttered as he spun her around, her back against his front with one of his hands fixed on her breast.

“Trust me, I’ve considered it.”

Adrian and Sypha looked up for a moment, feeling the thick, tense rope between the couple. They simply looked at each other, stifling their laughter as he spun her around yet again, this time switching her off to Adrian while Sypha was reeled back into his arms.

“That was quite intense,” Alucard retorted.

-

He slammed her back against the door, knocking the wind out of her lungs as his lips attacked hers. Their lower regions ground against one another, his hands holding onto her knees while his upper half held her up. 

He pulled away for a moment, groaning at the sight of her swollen lips, a combination of their saliva coating the flesh. He bit the skin of her neck, rolling it between his front teeth before letting go, sucking on the skin to alleviate the tingling sensation.

“Strip for me - don’t take off your underwear,” he ordered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, panting.

She did as told without a fuss, shimmying out of her skirt and her blouse. He took one look at the white garter around her thigh, letting a scoff-like chuckle fall from his lips. Quite amusing she was. He watched as she stood there, nothing but white lace adorning her body.

“I told you to strip,” he said blatantly.

“But I want you to take it off,” she whined, folding her arms over her chest as she frowned like a toddler.

If he weren’t so desperate to have her around his cock, he would have no problem spanking her until she began to cry. However, he didn’t give up his rough demeanor. He held onto her waist, her chest right up to his.

“Fine, since you want to be such a little fucking brat.”

His arms reached around, fingers effortlessly undoing the hook of her bra before coming back to her front. One leg of his came up, his heel planting itself into the mattress of the bed before he spun her around, one of her arms throwing itself over his leg while the other held onto the one that trailed down her stomach, making its way into her underwear.

“Why can’t you just be a good fucking girl?” he quietly grumbled, his lips hiding into the nape of her neck as his fingers played with her clit. “You’re really fucking wet for someone who has so much mouth.”

His pinky and his thumb resting on the insides of her thighs, serving as a mini obstacle to halt her thighs from caving around his hand while his middle and index fingers fucked her furiously. She moaned aloud, her head rolling onto his shoulder. 

He continued at a vigorous pace, profanities tumbling from her lips as he curled his fingers inside of her, reaching for her sweet spot. Her legs quivered as he continued doing this, the tips of her fingers digging into his clothed shoulders.

“Trevor, please,” she murmured, her voice light and airy as ecstasy took over her.

“Please what, darling?” he asked, his voice gruff as his mouth neared her ear.

“Please let me cum.”

The chuckle that came from his lips elicited a groan from her throat.

“We barely even started and you need to cum already?” he tsked, pulling his hand out of her underwear and swiping his fingers over her bottom lips, requesting access as her saliva coated his digits.

“Mm, I should torment you for needing to cum in less than five minutes when I’m sucking your cock, shouldn’t I?”

She’d earned it. But he hadn’t decided whether or not he wanted to edge her until she broke or overstimulate her until her cunt was quite literally palpitating. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth, a dark chuckle leaving his mouth as he pushed her onto the bed. 

As she attempted to get onto all of her fours, he held onto her neck from behind, pushing her upper body down so her ass was in the air. He pulled her underwear down, earning a string of moans as he blew air onto her soaked pussy.

“You love tempting me, don’t you?” he queried, his fingers entering her one by one with each pump he gave, his thumb stimulating her clit.

His knuckles were deep inside of her, her moans lewd as they curled and twisted.

“Fuck,” she whispered, the side of her face planted deep into the sheets.

“Go ahead, be the loud fucking slut you are. I want them to hear.”

She didn’t give in to his commands, groaning into the sheets. A yelp came from her mouth as his free hand wrapped her hair around his fingers, grasping at her scalp afterward. He leaned over her yet again, not having anything to say at this point. His hand removed itself from her cunt, placing a taught slap on her swollen folds. 

He undressed in a matter of minutes, cursing at the layers of clothing that adorned his brawny build. He looked at her body, her body shaking from not receiving its release. He laughed to himself, rubbing the head of cock along her folds, her body shuddering under his touch.

“Shit- just fuck me already!”

That had come out a bit more pushy (and a bit louder) than she’d hoped it would come out. She was pretty sure that even Alucard, who was all the way at the end of the hall could’ve heard that.

“Such a little whore,” he spoke, swiftly burying his cock between her velvety walls.

Her back arched as he pushed himself further and further into her womanhood. Had it really been that long? She felt so full - for a moment, she forgot what it felt like to be filled up with Trevor’s cock. She felt every inch, their skin slapping with every inch. She instinctively clenched around him, enticing a loud, dragged out groan from Trevor. 

She knew she didn’t have much longer as she had two previous orgasms pent up inside of her, her hands clenching onto the sheets while one of his were on her neck and the other digging its nails into the skin of her hips. Her legs shook, confusion consuming her as he didn’t stop. She came around him, an utterly intense moan rippling from the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” she cried out, her back arching even further as both of his hands held onto her hips, pounding into her.

“Turn around, I wanna see your tits,” he grunted, breathless as his hips snapped into hers.

She did as told, struggling as he still screwed her.

He hoisted her legs, the pit of his elbows supporting the back of her knees.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she got out through moans, one hand throwing her leg over his waist so it could occupy the free space of her neck.

“Making up for lost time, angel face,” he obtained a “matter-of-factly” tone, adding a wink while bringing her to her second orgasm.

And it continued like this all night. His abdomen flexed as each orgasm washed over both him and her, the moonlight shining on their gorgeous bodies. 

“Gonna make you cum for each fucking day you decided to torture me.”

His hands had practically been engraved into her neck, red marks forming from how much time his nails spent digging into the sides of her necks. Her chest was littered in bites and hickies, a particularly dark bite embedded into the skin below her collarbone. 

His semen painted her walls, filling her stomach as the curvature of his cock protruded her womb. He pulled out of her after earning a whopping twelve orgasms before her walls clenched around him unbearably tight, squirting around his length as her hands scrambled for any bit of his skin. 

This orgasm waved through her like no other, her back entirely leaving the mattress as her nails pierced into Trevor’s skin. He pulled out of her, her jaw fallen slack as pants fell from her mouth. He admired the way his seed threatened to spill from her cunt, yet she clenched around nothing, sort of any attempt to cave it inside of her. 

He hurried to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He tenderly maneuvered the wet fabric around her folds, muttering encouraging words as she fought sleep.

“You can sleep down, angel. You did so well for me.”

“I can’t believe how outstandingly you performed.”

As much as she desired it, she didn’t go to sleep, waiting for Trevor to return. She let out a content sigh as she rolled over, one leg throwing itself over both of his as she held his body close to hers in her arms.

“You are one very determined man, aren’t you, Belmont?”

Her voice was hoarse, surely moaning and praising him for how well he was fucking her caused more than half of it. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, eventually shutting once Trevor kissed her temple.

“Only determined when it comes to you,” he muttered, his arms caving around her waist as he too fell into a deep sleep.

-

“Oh, fuck me harder,” she heard Sypha as she approached the kitchen, rubbing her eyes as she looked to see the three people she loved most.

“Don’t stop, Trevor! You’re fucking me so well!”

She couldn’t fight the pink tint that splayed itself upon her cheeks, the warmth radiating through the rest of her body.

“Oh, you guys are just jealous that you aren’t getting any of this Belmont dick,” he muttered, keeping his eyes on the scorching frying pan in front of him.

“Eh, you might be right about that one,” Alucard muttered, earning a snort from Y/N.

“Look who’s finally awake,” Sypha chuckled, looking at the deep red, soon to be purple marks decorating her best friend’s neck. “You two really went at it last night, didn’t you?”

“Pfft, it’s like he’s having sex with an animal or something,” Alucard retorted, his eyes trained on the bright red scratches on Trevor’s chest, back, and arms.

“Oh, shut it,” Y/N snapped, trying to hide the embarrassment by burying her face into the pit of her laid out arms. “When’s the last time you got laid?”

“Touché,” he muttered, an exaggerated sigh coming from his mouth as he took a sip of his overly brewed coffee.

“Besides, weren’t you two begging us to give you godchildren?” Trevor grinned, earning a groan from the rest of them. “I thought you’d be happy!”

[potatoes-is-are-food]

Demon Shit [Part 4]

~4000 words

| NSFW warnings: threesome, overstimulation, dabi being a bit of a dick, tomura being creepy and also a bit of a dick, really intense smut

Tomura lead you forward, chuckling when you stumbled in the dark. He pushed you out into the alley as soon as the door was open, making you trip and fall onto your hands and knees with a yelp.

The door slammed and Tomura crouched behind you, pulling up your dress and leaning in to plant a few kitten licks to your still-wet slit. You squeaked, lurching forward before his hands gripped your hips harshly, pulling you back against his face. He groaned, lapping at you and kissing your twitching cunt for a little longer before leaning back, spreading you carefully with his clawed fingers and taking in the sight. You whimpered, and he gave a final light kiss to your clit before putting your dress back down and helping you up.

“Don’t cry,” he huffed, wiping your slick off his face and pressing his lips to your cheek. Keeping in mind what Dabi had said about affection, he wrapped his arms around you, letting you lean into him.

“I’m not,” you whined into his chest, snuggling close with a little shiver as the breeze picked up. He shrugged out of his coat and affixed it around your shoulders, snatching up your hand and dragging you along like an annoyed older brother.

“Food, yeah?” He peered down at you over his shoulder. You nodded, gripping his hand as you struggled to keep up with him. Was it a demon thing or did yours just walk fast?

“Can you slow down a little?” you stumbled, gripping his sleeve with the hand he didn’t have in a death grip, “And what are we eating?” His pace slowed and he gave your hand an apologetic squeeze.

“Uh,” he scratched at his neck, occasionally creating a wound that sealed up as fast as it opened, “What do you want, er, little sacrifice?” Your face warmed a bit at Dabi’s nickname coming from him. You hummed in thought as he guided you out into the main street, significantly less crowded as the sun set.

He got you what you asked for from a food stall and you sat together on a bench nearby, Tomura intently watching you eat. 

“Wanna taste?” You offered, holding your food out to him. He took a little bite and grimaced, spitting it onto the pavement as several people sneered at him as they walked by. You giggled, leaning against him as you munched.

“Some human food tastes okay but the stuff with salt is disgusting,” he watched you take another bite.

“Is that a demon thing?” You asked. He nodded, swiping his finger across your lips where some of it had smeared and pressing in, depositing it into your mouth as you obediently suckled on his finger. He licked your spit off the digit and slung his arm over your shoulders.

“I like you,” he murmured, softly kissing the top of your head. You snuggled into him, letting him take the empty food container and throw it into a nearby trashcan.

“I like you too. And Dabi,” your face heated up as you admitted it aloud. He grinned down at you, pinching your cheek,

“Keigo is gonna love you. Might be a little rough, though, cause he’s still mad at Dabs. It’ll still be fun, though.” You perked up, leaning to look at Tomura more directly,

“What did he do?” You asked, scooting a little closer. He squished your cheeks absentmindedly as he spoke,

“They got into an argument over a contract they both wanted and Dabi let him have it instead of warning him when he found out it was a shit deal. He ended up having to hang out in the same place and couldn’t leave for several centuries,” his hands started wandering, toying with the clasp of his coat draped over yours.

“That doesn’t sound that bad,” you said softly, shifting to sit in his lap. He scoffed,

“It doesn’t until you realize he couldn’t go into his pocket dimension and visit his sacrifice in all that time. He didn’t get to tell anyone it was there either so it died. He’s probably still pretty pissed off,” he nuzzled into your hair, sniffing briefly before pushing you off, gently this time so you didn’t fall.

Noticing your slightly upset expression, he quickly added, “You’re gonna have three of us, though. You’ll be fine,” you shuffled a little closer to him.

He stood, taking out his phone and messing around on it for a moment. He took your hand after, pulling you down the darkened, nearly deserted streets.

“Are we going back to Dabi?” You asked, squeezing his hand. He nodded with a quiet grunt, tugging you along for several blocks until you stopped outside ...a lingerie store?

“Why is he here?” Your face crinkled in confusion as the demon dragged you inside, ignoring the greeting from the worker and heading for the back of the store. Dabi was there, comparing a couple of bustiers. You felt your face heat up as he immediately slipped Tomura’s and then your coats off your shoulders, holding the lacy white material up to your chest.

“Which of these do you think will make Kei hate me less?” He muttered to Tomura, shoving the coats in his hands.

“I think you’re going to have to worry about me hating you if you don’t let me shove my cock inside your sacrifice in the next hour,” He growled, jabbing at Dabi’s side with one of his claws. He side-eyed you with his wide grin as your breath hitched, shyly looking away.

“Pocket dimension is open in the back of the store, it’s the permanent one so you can leave your stuff wherever. Doll, did those panties fit okay?” he said in a monotonous string, still holding up various lacy numbers to your chest. You were starting to think he had an obsession with putting you in white.

“U-uh they fit fine,” you said with a slight grimace, shuffling your feet awkwardly as Tomura dug through his pocket.

“Get more like this,” he said, holding them up. You felt a massive rush of blood to your face, desperately grabbing for them and frantically whispering his name. Dabi snatched them up, glanced at the size, and shoved them back in Tomura’s pocket,

“Don’t do that out here, dumbass,” Dabi chided him, shuffling through another rack of clothes with an exasperated sigh, “I’m only gonna be another minute just get out of here,” he sighed, tilting your chin up for a brief kiss and nudging you back to Tomura.

“Whatever, humans are so prudish,” he snorted, pulling you toward the back exit of the store. He stuck your coat around your shoulders and guided you through the door, cold hitting you immediately as you stepped into the pocket dimension.

Snow crunched under your feet as you entered, wind and snow chilling you to the bone instantly and causing you to immediately attach yourself to Tomura. He wrapped his coat around you tightly and scooped you up, trudging through the snow towards a huge house.

“I hate the ones with outside space, why can’t it just open directly inside,” He grumbled, stroking your arm fervently as you shuddered against him, “and why the fuck do they make ones with blizzards like this?”  He got up to the door and kicked it open, carrying you in and setting you down as he closed it and shook snow off himself. The warm air was nice, but you were soaked down to your skin quickly as the snow melted, leaving you dripping cold water onto the wooden floors. The house was big, lavishly decorated, and seemed to have lots of rooms and even more up the large staircase. You caught your demon companion shaking himself off like a dog out of the corner of your eye. “He must like you a lot, this dimension looks expensive,” Tomura pulled off both your wet coats, sliding his inhumanly long tongue across his rough lips as he took in the sight of your wet dress clinging to your skin, “Remind me to thank Staples for these,” he slid a finger under one of your stockings and let it snap back against your skin. You shuddered, the wet fabric clinging to your skin and making you increasingly uncomfortable. “Oh yeah, he treats you like a dolly,” he scoffed, leaning down and taking your boots off for you, “sweet and dumb, right? He got so damn lucky,” he came back up and planted a soft kiss to your lips, brushing against them as he spoke, “Or should it be ‘we’ got lucky?” You brought your arms to your chest nervously.

His teeth latched onto the neckline of your dress, shredding it off you in one motion and letting it drop to the floor. Red eyes scanned over your body, now only covered by a bralette, stockings, and your own hands clasped over your pussy. You sniffled, shivering and shuffling a little closer, “Can we get warm?” You asked, giving him what was certainly a pathetic expression. You probably looked like a wet little rat, shaking and giving him doe eyes as he ran his hands up and down your sides. “I’ll warm you up,” he grinned widely, pulling your bralette over your head and discarding it on the floor. You winced slightly, pulling him close for warmth and being slightly disappointed he wasn’t as warm as Dabi. The lack of staples scratching against your skin was admittedly nice, though.

He ducked down, sweeping up your legs and carrying you as he tried several doors before finding a bedroom he carried you into. You were deposited on the bed and watched as he peeled his wet clothes off, immediately pushing you further onto the bed and crawling over you until he hovered above your trembling form.

“I’m going to devour you,” he rasped, tongue trailing along your lips before slipping inside and thrusting down your throat. You gagged, struggling to keep your mouth open for him as he fucked your mouth with the wet appendage. He moaned, closing the gap between your lips and pulling his tongue back to kiss you as normally as a half-feral demon could.

He broke off, giving your tongue another flick with his before withdrawing and dragging it along your skin. Rough lips latched onto your neck, suckling over the massive bite wound Dabi had given you. Your head fell back and you gasped as he licked along your breasts, swirling his tongue around your nipples until they pebbled and he popped one into his mouth. Sharp teeth grazed the sensitive skin, making you arch your back.

He licked and bit roughly along your chest, sharp teeth trailing lower until he placed light kisses directly to your cunt. You whined as he forced your legs apart, drinking in the sight of you clenching around nothing with slick coating your thighs. “Fuck,” he breathed, enclosing your entire pussy in his mouth with and winding his tongue inside without hesitation. Your hips bucked involuntarily as you cried out, gripping his hair. His tongue was so long it was coiled deep inside you, lapping directly at your cervix and writhing against several sweet spots. Rough lips stimulated your still-sore clit too harshly, making you tremble and groan as the painful pleasure rocked through you. “I,” you gasped, barely able to speak as you squirmed, held in place by strong arms and nails digging into your hips to pin them, “’M’gonna c-” you moaned loudly, head pressed back hard and eyes rolled up. You gasped for breath, twitching as he continued through your orgasm, making you squeal and tug his hair.

“No more,” you cried, trying to crawl away. His grip was like iron, and you couldn’t do anything to escape his torturous ministrations. Turning your head, tears spilled from your eyes and you saw Dabi in the doorway, watching his friend torture you with a faint smirk on his face. Being watched had you flushed and cumming again on Tomura’s tongue, sobbing as he kept going despite your pleas.

“Dabi,” you cried, reaching for him, hoping he’d tell Tomura to calm down, but all he did was saunter forward and hold your hand, pressing his lips softly to your knuckles as his friend coaxed another painful orgasm out of you. Your other hand tangled in Tomura’s hair, pulling hard and eliciting a deep groan from him. He mercifully parted from your slit, crawling back up and giving you a deep kiss, letting his drool and your slick transfer into your mouth.

“That’s nice; choke me too,” the pale-haired demon ordered, pulling your hand out of Dabi’s and placing both around his neck. You tried to squeeze but your limbs felt like jelly. He gave you an annoyed tut, flipping to make you straddle him. “Do it right or I’ll choke you instead,” he gripped your wrists and you pressed harder, earning a soft moan from him. His hips bucked up, lifting you and making his fat, engorged cock tap against your back, smearing some of his pre on your skin.

You felt the bed dip and turned to see Dabi situating himself behind you, lying with his face between Tomura’s legs. He took his cock in his hand, pumping it and licking at his balls, earning another involuntary buck of Tomura’s hips. You watched him drag his forked tongue up the back of his cock, swirling the wet muscle around the head and even briefly dip into his slit a little.

He took the head into his mouth and teased him for another moment before unhinging his jaw slightly and taking the whole thing down his throat. Tomura groaned loudly, gripping your thighs and digging his claws in until you bled, whimpering and slumping forward to rest your chest on his. His hands wandered frantically, squeezing various places on your soft form as he tried to ground himself, lifting you as he bucked up into Dabi’s mouth.

You crawled up slightly, wanting to swallow the sounds he was making and sealing your lips over his to do so. He moaned into your mouth, red eyes rolling back in his head when you licked up the drool spilling down his jaw. He clawed at your back, thighs, and arms, dug his claws into your ass and pulled your hips against him, forcing you to essentially ride his stomach. The friction to your clit had you squirming against him as your orgasm built back up.

Dabi released him with a wet pop, reaching up to spin you around and pull you to his face by your throat. He kissed you, sharing the taste of Tomura’s precum before guiding you to his saliva-coated cock. Tomura’s hands smoothed over your ass, spreading your cheeks and giving him a perfect view of your twitchy, drooly little cunt. He teased your clit with his tongue, flicking it around all over and smearing your juices from there up to your puckered back entrance, making you yelp. If he hadn’t had you locked in place you’d have tried to squirm forward, away from his intrusive tongue as he let you feel just how far it could reach.

“Doll, focus. Use your mouth,” Dabi recaptured your attention, kissing you wetly from the other side of Tomura’s cock, flicking his tongue against your lips as you both lapped at him. You groaned as he thrusted his tongue deep into your ass, fingers carefully pinching at your clit using his knuckles so he wouldn’t scratch you there.

Dabi left you to tend to his cock, lifting Tomura’s legs and spreading them, kissing and suckling at his balls for a moment before diving lower, giving him the same treatment he was giving you. You took initiative, cupping and massaging his balls with one hand and using the other to guide the head of his cock to your mouth to lap at his slit, alternating between licking up the copious amounts of pre he was leaking and kissing his shaft all over. Your other hand stroked over his thigh, threading your fingers through Dabi’s and squeezing as Tomura’s rough treatment of your clit had you cumming, mindlessly humping against his chest as he watched you clench around nothing, withdrawing his tongue from inside you. He gave your ass a smack, squeezing harshly as he bucked his hips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, one hand gripping your hair and pushing you onto his cock, “I know you can’t fit it in your mouth just take the tip, ah,” he moaned, “swallow it,” he grunted when you obeyed. You took his tip into your mouth, stretching your jaw wide to accommodate him and suckling. Dabi’s hand flashed in your peripheral as he slapped his balls, Tomura immediately shrieking and releasing into your mouth. You tried to swallow it all, gulping down the thick, foul-tasting liquid as it flooded your mouth, spilling out the sides and dribbling down his cock where Dabi licked it up.

You kept sucking even after he’d stopped spurting the white fluid down your throat, making him grip your hair and pull you off to keep you from overstimulating him. He brought your back to his chest, having you lie on top of him as his cock deflated slightly between your legs briefly before perking up again. He sighed deeply, pressing a kiss to your temple and wrapping his arms around you, kneading at your breasts.

“We’re cool now,” he muttered, perking up and making you sit up with him, shifting you to sit in his lap, “Can I use her ass?” he asked Dabi, gripping your hips and dragging your cunt along his length to lubricate it, the friction making you gasp. Dabi rolled his eyes, “You know she can’t,” he ruffled your hair, pressing several soft kisses to your cheek and jaw, “I’ll have to stretch it out first.” You gawked at him with wide eyes as he reached down, swiping his thumb over the spit coated hole. Tomura continued making you hump his cock, watching how sweetly you gazed at his friend despite how scared your expression was. A cruel smirk stretched across his face, catching Dabi’s attention and making him quirk a brow at him.

“Why don’t you start now? Ream her little ass while I take her pussy?” His hips rolled up for emphasis, making you moan as you came, releasing your hips and watching you hump him on your own as you rode out your orgasm, too blissed out to protest his proposal, not that anyone would listen to you anyway. You slumped back against him, resting your head on his shoulder as you panted, coming down from yet another high. He trailed a finger down your cheek, kissing you softly and positioning you to face him on your knees, straddling him and hovering just above his twitching length.

Dabi positioned himself behind you, gathering your slick on his tip and gently pulling you back, impaling you on himself. You moaned, dropping your head to rest on Tomura’s shoulder and nibbling at his rough skin a little. He stroked your hair as the other demon gave you a few shallow thrusts before leaving you empty and lining up at your smaller hole.

“Ever had your ass fucked, little sacrifice?” You panted, knowing you wouldn’t be able to stop him and opting to relax and take it. Maybe if you were good he’d go a little easy on you. You peered at him over your shoulder, lip trembling as you shook your head no. He smirked, slapping your ass lightly and rubbing it, pulling your cheeks apart as he started to press in.

Tomura gripped your face, forcing you to look him in the eye so he could watch your expression as Dabi took your ass for the first time. His mouth opened when yours did, tongue flicking into your mouth and along your face as your eyes rolled back into your head. It was so deep, too big, too hot, too much and your breath caught in your throat, practically choking on the feeling of him so far into your guts. You surprised both of them when you pushed back, eagerly accepting him as your neglected cunt twitched and drooled, slick dripping down Tomura’s cock underneath you.

Dabi grunted, “Good fucking girl.” His hips stilled, watching you pant and get used to the stretch. He pulled out about halfway, then buried himself to the hilt again, gripping your thighs and picking you up so you were leaned back against his chest with him holding your legs up nice and wide. Tomura licked his lips, leaning forward with no hesitation and kissing at your cunt, tongue slipping along your folds and down to where Dabi was pressed tightly inside.

They both stood, allowing Tomura easier access to line himself up, kissing along your chest as it heaved with panicked little breaths. He nudged himself in gently at first, slipping along your walls and fitting several inches inside. Your back arched, babbling pleas and a string of unintelligible gibberish. Dabi made sure he was ready and let you fall forward, gravity forcing you to take both of them entirely. A scream ripped from your throat, arms limply trying to clutch Tomura’s shoulders as they started moving without mercy, quickly settling into a rhythm that made you lose consciousness for a few seconds, stars dancing across your vision as white hot pleasure coursed through your veins.

You choked and sobbed, both holes spasming as pain and pleasure became indistinguishable and you could swear you felt little cracks forming in your psyche. Your whole body both felt numb and pulsed with too much stimulation as you were filled over and over, both of them cumming several times inside you without stopping their assault. Eventually you were reduced to groaning, exhausted to the point of being unable to move as they pawed at you, occasionally grunting praises that seemed to float by you. You weren’t sure how many times you came, abused little clit smacked and pinched over and over again until it hurt to cum.

You’re not sure when they moved or how long you’d been there, but you found yourself flopped back in bed as they both filled you for the last time, locking lips over your spent body. A whimper breezed past your lips as they slipped you under the blankets, kissing various parts along your skin.

“I think we might have overwhelmed her,” Dabi frowned, running his fingers down your cheek. Tomura shrugged, claiming his preferred side of the bed and snuggling in close to you,

“She’s fine she came like a million times,” he affectionately nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head, slinging an arm across your unconscious form and motioning for Dabi to join. He settled in on the other side of you, kissing the back of your head and allowing himself to actually sleep for once. It was a special occasion, after all.

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 1/?)

Chapter 1: A Nurse for Androids

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Synopsis: You were a biomechanical engineer, a fancy way of saying that you repaired androids. After the revolution, you decided to move back to Detroit to offer aid as, essentially, a nurse. After stopping by to visit an old friend, you began to grow attached to his android partner.

Chapters • 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26 • 27 • 28 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

"Lieutenant, this place is-"

Connor stopped himself when he caught the look Hank was giving him. It was something akin to a scowl, though his lip was a bit more crooked and his eyes were more annoyed than angry.

"Hank," Connor corrected himself. "This place is-"

"Can it," the detective groaned, knowing full well he was about to get criticized for living in a dump.

Connor caught himself smiling a little, despite the fact he had just been told to shut up. There was something oddly satisfying about getting on Hank's nerves, especially when it was over harmless things. 'Banter' was what it was called.

Hank had been sober since the revolution, and that was nearing six months ago. It was a little difficult for Connor to get a grasp on how that made him feel. 'Proud' seemed to be the word that came up the most in his searches. He was proud of his partner and wanted to congratulate him.

The older detective insisted 'I don't need nuttin' and 'don't buy me no damn gifts' when Connor suggested they celebrate. After some insistence, Hank reluctantly agreed to let Connor help him clean his house. It seemed to go hand in hand with Hank's new resolve: get your shit together, tidy up the place, buy some new fucking furniture.

"Isn't the point of this whole deviant thing to not do stuff for humans?" Hank asked, mopping the kitchen while Connor loaded up 'Hank's crap' in a box to be donated.

"I'm doing this because I want to," Connor insisted. He paused and turned to Hank. "We could test it? Tell me to do something."

Hank leaned against the broom, eyeing the android suspiciously. "Fine. Trim Sumo's nails."

Connor did not even break eye contact. "No."

Hank let out a howling laugh. "Smartass."

The android smiled and resumed what he had been doing. It all made sense, why humans got such a rise in telling people to fuck off, why Hank had no issue telling Connor to 'mind his own damn business' when he scolded him for his choice in food. Free will felt good. Connor had his own apartment, collected a paycheck. He went to work every day because he wanted to.

The doorbell rang and Connor eyed Hank first.

The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders. "Knock yourself out. Probably just some damn door to door salesman."

Connor trotted over to the front door. When he answered , he was greeted by a pretty woman, a few inches shorter than him, with a bright smile and beaming eyes. She had a curious demeanor: like she had knocked on this door dozens of times. Well, you had, it had just been a long time.

Before he could utter a word-

"Holy shit," you exclaimed through a wild grin. You had expected Hank to answer the door. But, a familiar face did instead. His hair was neatly trimmed with just a few devious strands fallen over his forehead, kind brown eyes and a squared jaw. Most guys grew out of their freckles. You were pleased to see that he did not.

His eyes flickered with confusion at the sight of you. It was to be expected, so you didn't overthink it.

Excitement overwhelmed you and you reached forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down into a friendly embrace. He was frozen stiff in the door way, one hand still on the handle while the other hung limp at his side.

"God you got tall," you murmured happily into the space above his shoulder. You pulled back and looked into his confused eyes.

"Cole, don't tell me you forgot your best friend?" you teased. His head tilted slightly and his brow softened.

In the corner of your eye, you could see Hank approaching from the kitchen. When you saw the look on his face, your excitement settled down. He did not look like the police officer you knew growing up. His once clean shaven face was covered in a messy beard. His once neatly trimmed hair was long and shaggy. He had greyed a tremendous amount, likely from stress.

Yet, his kind eyes were the same as you remembered.

"Officer Anderson," you addressed him with a smile.

Hank didn't even have to ponder over who you might be. You were all grown up, sure, but like hell he'd ever forget the kid his kid spent most of his time with. He uttered your name with a sort of fondness that brought you right back to your childhood. However, there was something equally depressing in the way he said it.

"I am very sorry; but, I am not Cole."

Your eyes returned to the young man in front of you, the one you had just embraced. He offered his hand to you. You gawked up at him for a moment, processing what he had just said. It was then that you finally saw it, the solid blue LED on his temple.

Embarrassment flushed your face; so, you took his hand to try to drown it out. "My name is Connor and I am a detective with the Detroit Police Department," he introduced himself proudly.

"I - I'm sorry. That was very rude of me," you apologized, voice so much smaller than it was a few seconds ago. Connor didn't seem bothered at all by what had just occurred.

"Good to see ya', kid," Hank grunted. You nodded at him and forced a smile. Hank did not.

The older detective made a gesture, beckoning you inside. "Why don'tja come in..."

The android, Connor, stepped out of the way and you followed Hank into his living room. It had not changed one bit since the last time you were here: the same shaggy carpets and wrinkly old couch and faded recliner.

He had not said it yet; but, as you took a seat and began to process everything, you knew what was coming. Hank took a seat in his recliner and leaned forward, elbows on his lap. You felt your heart sink into your stomach and blood rush to your ears.

"Cole died, not long after you moved away," Hank explained. "This hunk'a'plastic is my partner." He motioned at Connor with a wave of his arm. "Sorry," he added on gruffly.

He had died... that long ago? And you had no idea... You had grown up, graduated college, lived through a quarter of your life already and Cole was... was gone, had been gone, long before he could experience much of anything.

"Hank - shit - I'm sorry. I came barging in here and-..." Hank waved you down, hoping to calm the storm that was beginning to brew. You continued, however, trying to settle the unease in your voice. "Me being here - it probably brought back painful memories. I should leave."

"Brought back memories, ya. Not painful ones," he replied, tone low, but sincere. "Less you count the time he fell outta the tree and broke his arm. You blamed yourself. So, I had two crying kids. Fucking hell."

His grumpy, yet playful tone, brought a smile to your face, and you choked out a laugh. "It was my fault," you giggled out.

"Yeah, well. That's a'right. He wore that cast like a medal," Hank replied with a soft smile, eyes looking off into nothing for a moment.

"I just wanted to say hi - check in on you guys," you explained, sniffling. You wiped some tears away before standing up. "I'm a mechanic - er, nurse - for androids. Moved back here to help, after the revolution - well, y'know. It's gonna be awhile before we can figure out a healthcare plan for androids."

"Sounds like you got a lot on your plate," Hank replied.

"Well, I'm glad to hear you're still a cop. I imagine you'll be hearing from me a lot - abuse cases, y'know?"

"I'm glad you made something of yourself," the older detective added on, fatherly tone catching you off guard. It forced a sincere smile to your face.

"I better get outta here," you breathed. "Oh! Uhm - here - in case you ever need to get ahold of me." You pulled a card out of your pocket and offered it to Hank before offering another one to the android. You avoided his gaze in the process, but he took the card eagerly.

"I'm mainly gonna be stationed at Thirium Clinic. They just opened a couple weeks ago. Lots of... well, battle wounds and-..." You trailed off when Hank nodding in understanding. Tensions were still running high, violent protests were inevitably going to continue for a very long time.

Hank yanked his wallet out of his pocket and tucked the card away.  In the corner of your eye, you could see Connor do the same with the card you handed him. "Thanks, kid. My cell never changed if you still have it."

"Good to know. Thanks, Hank."

"If we meet again, I hope it is under good circumstances," the android - Connor - stated. Your eyes landed on him, a natural response from trained politeness.

You tried not to be overwhelmed by the site of him. He looked like Cole - like Cole had grown up and matured into a handsome young man. His soft brown eyes and freckles clashed deliciously with his sharp jawline. His designers had even put texture in his skin around his mouth and along his jaw and chin, suggesting he shaved every morning. Most androids had flawless skin; but, Connor had visible pores.

"I hope so, too," you replied, forcing your eyes away from his face.

Did Hank know what Connor looked like? He said they were partners. Did Hank choose Connor? Was he made for Hank? Did Connor know what he looked like? You had lots of questions. But, none of them were even mildly appropriate.

"Hank, thank you for letting me bug you for a bit. It was nice."

He smiled a crooked smile. "Sure thing, kid. Now, get off my lawn."

You returned his smile and saw yourself out.

As soon as the door closed, Connor's mouth was open.

"Don't you apologize or any other dumb shit," Hank scolded him.

Connor's mouth made a quiet sound when he smacked it closed.

"Back to work," Hank groaned.

...

...

...

Luck had it that you saw Hank and his android companion less than a week later. It first came in the form of a text from the older detective.

'connor fucked up his hand you working?' was what it read. You replied with a simple 'yes' and two of Detroit's finest were walking through the sliding door to the Thirium Clinic.

When you approached them, Connor had a towel wrapped loosely around his hand, the cotton stained blue from all the thirium that had leaked out of him.

"Hope you didn't expect something fancy," you said shyly as you ushered the boys over to a booth. The place was clearly an abandoned grocery store turned medical office. They had not yet put up any real walls, just portable ones to give the illusion of privacy. Simply put, it was a shit show

Connor sat down and propped his arm on the chair's operating arm. You took a seat next to him, flipped on the hovering light, and carefully removed the towel.

"Really? Have you seen my house?" Hank barked.

You chuckled at that; but, the laughter died off when you exposed Connor's injuries. The sheeting - skin, if you will - was completely torn off Conner's right hand: his palm, the pads of his fingers, even a few inches down his wrist. The wiring was exposed, and you could already spot several that needed to be replaced. His hand felt stiff as concrete, further proving the damage you had feared.

"Shit," you cursed, spinning away from him in your chair to a nearby filing cabinet. You fished out some wires, and continued fishing until you found the right ones for his model.

Connor had remained quite still, you realized, when you came back around. You looked over his arm again, mentally preparing yourself for the path ahead.

"Aside from the obvious missing tissue and thirium loss, it's like nerve damage," you explained over your shoulder to Hank.

"Damn it, Connor," he grunted.

"Sorry, lieutenant," the android replied, intentionally robotic, but with the slightest smirk on the corner of his lip.

You had to choke down a laugh. "I'm glad it hasn't been hurting you, Connor. But, this might," you warned him as you set down the wires.

"I understand," he replied firmly.

He twitched a little when you plucked the first wire. For the rest, he managed to stay still. With how close you were, you could occasionally hear him let out a quiet, sharp hiss, so quiet that Hank was unlikely to hear it. You ended up replacing almost every wire that ran from his digits, through his palm, and down his wrist to the first joint bracket. Listening to him wince in pain never got any easier.

"Finally. Done with the wires," you breathed once the last one was secured. You leaned back and let Connor flex his fingers and twist his hand. He began to rotate his wrist around when you decided to stop him, gently cupping the back of his hand.

You did this all the time; but, you were faintly aware of heat blossoming on your cheeks as you held Connor’s hand. You silently scolded yourself, feeling a little too old to have a silly crush.

"Gotta patch you up, then a thirium transplant," you breathed.

Before it would adhered to an android and take on a skin tone, their flesh was pale, metallic, shiny and sparkly. It was also something between plastic and silicone, and had to be melted.

Hands were detailed, with corners and wrinkles, and much harder to get right than patching a wound on a thigh, which meant it would take a little longer. You had a handheld device that made it easier. It looked almost like a tattoo gun, and allowed you to carefully adhere it over the gaping wounds on his hand.

Normally, you had to ask your patients to be still. Connor seemed to be doing a great job of handling that without needing to be told. As you finished, you watched in awe as the flesh took on the peachy, light color of his factory default skin tone.

With a sigh, you set your tools down and maneuvered over to a nearby storage container holding bags of thirium. You wished one out and handed it to the detective. His levels weren’t low enough to require manual insertion. He could do it a more conventional way.

It was almost funny that androids were designed this way, that their only existing digestive track was to take in more blood. Keeping their thirium levels in the proper range was the closest equivalent they had to the need for nutrients.

Connor smiled gratefully as he took the bag from your hand. “That should be good,” you stated, trying not to feel so bashful beneath his gaze. “Let me know if anything feels wrong in your han-”

It was an unexpected door slam that shattered the moment. Some gasps sounded from the around room, You stood up and looked towards the entrance to see a severely damaged android limping in, a gun in his left hand and his right cradling a wound. He was wearing scraggily clothes that looked unfitting with his prim and proper haircut.

"I want an android doctor!" he demanded, the gun tight in his hand but pointed to the floor. His posture suggested he was scared to use it. However, that did not stop Connor from drawing his own gun.

"Wait," you hissed at him, pushing his arm down.

Connor uttered your name in a scolding tone as you stepped away from the chair and approached the injured android.

You took slow steps towards him, palms exposed in a display of yielding.

"S-stop!" he stuttered, shouting at you. Yet, he didn't point the gun at you.

"Hi. What is your name?" you asked him, not bothering to try and hide your nervousness. Everyone was staring at him nervously, patients near the door scrambling to get away from him.

He hesitated, looking at you with fear in his eyes. "T-Thomas..."

"Hi, Thomas," you replied, trying your best to steady your voice. "I'm sorry but all the nurses here are human. We came here from all over the country to help androids. You don't need the gun."

"No!" he cried out. "I don't want any humans touching me!"

Thomas was not just handsome, he was gorgeous. He had the type of pretty face people dreamt about and bright blue eyes. It didn't take a genius to determine what he was made for.

"Thomas, no one here is going to do anything that you don't want," you spoke to him, firmly. That was easy to say without fear, because it was the truth. "I promise."

You stepped closer, one foot at a time, and kept your eyes on his. You offered your hand and watched the fear slowly melt away behind his eyes.

"H-humans lie," he uttered, choked up, tears threatening to fall.

"I know. I'm sorry, Thomas," you replied quietly. For a moment, you had forgotten that everyone was still staring. "You're free now. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Thomas, I want to help you. But, before I can, I need you to put the gun down."

"I don't wanna go back," he whimpered. He didn't point the gun at you, but he held it as if to declare that he would use it to make sure that wouldn't happen.

"Are they making you work, Thomas? Your owners?" you asked, watching his face contort in agony. His LED was hidden behind his hair; but, when he turned his head, you could see it blaring red.

"They don't own you anymore," you said, firmly, anger shining through. "Please let me help you."

You stepped a little closer and, this time, he lifted the gun enough that it pointed at you. You almost could see down the barrel.

"It's okay to be afraid. I am, t-too, Thomas," you continued, lifting your hands a little higher. He was sobbing, now, fat tears falling down his cheeks, tinted blue from the stress. His hand, gripping the gun, was shaking.

"Y-you're going into shock from lack of thirium. Please, Thomas, please put the gun down and let me save you!"

His grip had weakened; before you could react, a hand came out of the corner of your field of view and grabbed the gun, effortlessly yanking it from Thomas' grasp. The android collapsed onto his knees in a fit of sobbing, clothing soaked in blue that oozed onto the floor.

Connor stood over the android, Thomas' gun now firmly in his grasp. When did he-? That fast... or had you just not seen him sneaking up behind you?

You brushed past Connor and joined Thomas on the ground. You offered your hand again and he stared at it for a moment. He gasped, once, then twice, before finally taking your hand. Another nurse was at your side in seconds and helped Thomas to his feet. The android was babbling on static, on the verge of powering down.

Connor watched you stagger away with the android, his thirium seeping all over you and staining your scrubs. You were still speaking to him in that gentle voice, ushering him to calm down. All the surrounding patrons had relaxed and continued on as they were. Connor was still holding the gun in his hand. It was covered in buildup, likely uncleaned for years; but, it felt heavy, definitely loaded with a full magazine.

He was so hyper-focused on you that he did not even notice Hank approaching. "You alright, Connor?" Hank asked, knocking the android's arm with his own.

"She's amazing," he replied quietly.

Hank laughed at his declaration. "Look at you getting all doe-eyed." Hank clapped a hand over Connor's shoulder and dragged him towards the door. "Come on, Tiger. With your track record, I'm sure you'll be back in here in no time."

...

...

...

Admiration, Connor realized, is what he felt for you. You were smart, independent, strong. He was impressed with the way you handled an agitated android. He was even more impressed by how much you cared about them. Or, maybe flattered was a better word? He didn't quite know. He just knew that he couldn't stop thinking about you.

"Earth to android," Gavin bellowed, snapping his fingers in the android's face.

Connor looked up at him with an unbothered expression. He was seated at his desk and Gavin, apparently, had been leaning over him, trying to get his attention.

"Watching porn in your head or something, tin can?" he suggested with a sneer.

"I was going over the case files, which happened to be far more important than your whining," Connor replied coolly.

Gavin slammed his hands on the android's desk. "There's still a score to settle. Test me, motherfucker," he growled.

"Sure. Name the game," the android replied with a small smirk.

"Quite the pair on ya' for someone with no balls," Gavin said through clenched teeth.

Connor glared at him slightly, a retort bubbling up in his throat. He did, actually. Without the function of human genitalia, but passable for a real pair, so to speak.

"Maybe if you called him by his name, he would answer," another detective suggested, delivering a harsh slap to Gavin's back as he passed by.

Gavin swung around and hollered at the passerby. "Yeah, when I'm fucking dead!"

Connor rolled his eyes and returned to the computer screen in his mind. He was looking at case files, actually. He just wasn't... thinking about them.

"Another human killed by an android. You'd know all about that. So, enjoy," Gavin declared proudly, dropping a file on Connor's desk. He could care less if Gavin spent the rest of his life hating his wires. But, another detective had... defended him? How... odd. But, not unwelcomed.

Connor opened the case file and took a breath that he didn't need.

...

...

...

Coincidences... Perhaps, a glitch in the matrix? Or just pure luck.

The very morning after patching up Connor, you were in line to get coffee with none other than Hank right in front of you.

"You stalking me?" he teased, hands shoved into his coat pockets and breath visible in front of his face. Most of the snow had thawed, but it was still too damn cold outside.

"Probably," you replied dryly. "This place is the only good place in town."

"Great minds think alike," Hank agreed.

It was your turn to order everyone coffees, so you had several on the way. You and Hank waited together, and even after he got his single mug, he still waited alongside you.

"Whatever it is you wanna ask, just ask, kid," he grumbled.

"Just surprised you got an android partner," you uttered, looking away from him nervously.

"I didn't like him at first. He grew on me, and he's a damn good detective," Hank answered, pausing to take a sip of his coffee. "Don't be embarrassed 'bout confusing him with Cole. I'm not oblivious to the way he looks."

You looked over to Hank, who looked oddly peaceful despite what he was saying.

"Those Cyberlife bastards knew he was gonna be partnered with me. I doubt it was an accident."

Your brow shot up at his implication. "Connor was made to be a detective android, then?"

Hank nodded into his drink. "Yep."

"Does he like being a detective?"

"I asked him that once, when he wanted to come back after all the... protests. He said his programming was gone, no more 'lines of code' telling him what to do... but he still wanted to solve crimes. All I can do is hope it's what he wants, and not choosing the path of least resistance."

"Me too," you whispered, far too fondly for your own good. Hank shot you a look; but, luckily, the barista came to your rescue and called out your name.

"Bye, Hank!" you hollered, rushing to the counter to grab your drinks and see yourself out. It wasn't entirely for selfish reasons. The clinic was waiting, after all.

[lastbluetardis]

Sacred New Beginnings (1/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU, @doctorroseprompts

This Chapter: Teen, ~5500 words

Note: Er... surprise? This idea has been in my head for months but my brain took it and ran with it this weekend. I plotted the whole thing and am gonna try to update every weekend. I don’t anticipate this being more than like... 7-10 chapter? I’d love to keep it under 5 chapters but that might be trimming things down too much for my liking. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this little story!

AO3

Flashing lights and shrieks of his name greet James the moment the back door to his armored car is opened. His head of security ducks out first and James can only see a mass of feet and legs but it’s more than enough to let him know it’s a heavier than usual crowd. Not surprising, considering the news of his latest break-up just dropped while he’d been flying back from a visit to America.

He slides out of the car, helped by hands that pull him as much as guide him through the throng. He ignores the shouts of his name—telling him to look left or right or up or down or every combination therein—and the barrage of questions and jokes that aren’t funny.

Was it you or him that ended it?

Three weeks, is that a new personal record?

Another notch in the bedpost, eh James?

Got another beau lined up yet?

If you’re looking for candidates, what do we have to do to get our names in the running?

“Ignore them,” he mutters to himself, too quietly for anyone except his security team to hear.

In answer, one of them gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they reach his front door. Someone has already unlocked it for him and the darkness within is a blessing he’s all too willing to be shoved into. The cacophony muffles once the door shuts, and finally he’s alone, a rarity for him. If it’s not his security, it’s personal assistants and writers and producers and photographers and the paparazzi.

Or his lover of the month, as the papers have taken to calling his partners.

But nope, his home is empty and quiet and bloody freezing. A shiver ripples up his spine as he treads to the thermostat controller. Summer finally released its hold on London, and the muggy heat has been replaced with a damp chill that burrows down into his bones.

Several button-presses later, James hears the familiar clank of the radiator and he can smell the heating kick on. It’ll take a while for his house to warm up, so James keeps his peacoat on for the time being as he putters around his home, checking the fridge and the cabinets. As always, they’re well-stocked. He hasn’t had to do anything as mundane as grocery shopping in the five years since his YouTube channel full of acoustic covers of popular songs went viral and landed him a lucrative deal with a prestigious record label. Only in his wildest dreams had he expected to find fame and fortune in the hobby he loved so much—for it to have actually happened still took him by surprise, as though any minute he’d be told “it was fun while it lasted, but it’s time for you to leave wonderland now.”

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he goes to the antique dining table that can easily seat ten people, which is great for holidays or in-home meetings, but just plain depressing every other day of the year. A stack of mail has piled up, and he spends the next five minutes attempting to sort it before giving up and telling himself he’ll look at it in the morning, once he’s not quite as groggy—transatlantic flights always take it out of him.

Instead, he rootles around his fridge until he comes up with the necessary items to make himself a ham and cheese sandwich. With the prospect of food in front of him, James realizes he is starving. He shoves a whole slice of ham in his mouth while he assembles his pitiful meal, heaping on lettuce and sliced tomatoes as though that’s enough to negate the pile processed protein and greasy chips he layers in for crunch.

It’s tastier than any sandwich as a right to be, and he nearly makes himself a second one before catches sight of his phone screen and the slew of incoming notifications. His work is never finished, is it?

There are several texts from his publicist, Donna, welcoming him home and congratulating him on not making an arse of himself just by trying to walk up the front drive of his home. (To be fair, he felt entitled to channel his inner crotchety old man and tell reporters to get off his damn lawn if they encroached on his personal property.)

“Though some photos are surfacing of your trip to New York… Anything you need me to get ahead of?”

He rubs his fingers into his eyes, knowing she’s probably referring to his last night out in the city, where he went bar hopping until the wee hours of the morning to try to forget the text his subsequently-ex-boyfriend had sent him.

Thanks for everything, but I need to focus on my career. Cheers mate.

The career that James had kickstarted for him by introducing his rising actor boyfriend to several of his friends in the film industry, because James had been so damn desperate for affection that he’d once again let the wool get pulled in front of his eyes.

And so James had reached out to mates who lived in New York and they’d all gone out and acted half their age and had a wonderful time once James forgot about why he’d gone out in the first place.

But none of that now. Nope. No sir.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he replies. “Let me know if you catch wind of anything.”

Despite the fact that he only just got home and he’s jetlagged and still feeling the effects of his night out in New York, James can’t stay in his house right now. It’s so quiet that his brain is creating its own white noise. He can’t stand being in his head on a good day, and today is not a good day.

He grabs his keys and wallet and makes for the back of the house. His property is landlocked with the back gardens of other houses; the paps have learned the hard way that James is dead serious about protecting his neighbors’ privacy and will not hesitate to phone the police to arrest and sue anyone caught trespassing on private property to snag a photo of him. James hosts dinner for his neighbors several times a year and buys them gifts any chance he can to show his appreciation for their patience and tolerance.

In the dead of night, he slips out into his back garden, the crisp October air burning his lungs in the best way as he ducks his way through the neighborhood, his feet taking him far away from the crowd of reporters that are still stationed in front of his own home. Hopefully they’ll all have dispersed by the time he gets back. Perhaps he should have turned on music or a movie or something, made them think he was settled in for a lazy night in.

He wanders aimlessly for a while, enjoying this taste of freedom and trying to remember the days when he could leave out the front door of his flat without any fanfare.

It’s dark, and thick clouds obscure whichever moon phase they’re in, but the street lamps glow yellow on the damp pavement, lighting his way forward. A crisp autumn breeze ruffles his hair and the leaves, sending them tumbling around him and skittering across the residential street that’s so much quieter than the bustle of New York. It’s good to be home, though.

He arrives at a bus stop and catches one headed into the city proper. It’s no secret that James lives in London, and therefore the general population has gotten used to glimpsing him on the tube or walking on the street or frequenting pubs. He knows people snap quick photos of him, and he’s always happy to stop and pose for a selfie with respectful fans, but mostly he’s left alone when he’s out by himself like this.

Nevertheless, he hears the excited undertones of people trying to inconspicuously point him out to their oblivious friends. He keeps his head down, mindlessly opening and closing apps on his phone for something to do as he pretends he doesn’t notice them. He won’t be on the bus much longer anyway.

Several people get off the bus with him, including a group of teenage girls who are whispering heatedly among themselves. It’s almost funny, watching them debate amongst themselves before one of them approaches him.

She’s red-faced but determined as she blurts, “Can we get a photo?”

“Sure thing,” he says good-naturedly, inclining his head for them to come closer. “Need me to take it?” He holds out a lanky arm and flops it around a bit. “Got a longer reach than any of you.”

He’s certain one of the girls is about to start crying with joy as they all nestle into his side and hand him a new-model iPhone. Damn, it’s fancier than his own. When he was their age, he had an old flip phone that lost reception if he breathed on it wrong. It was a tank though—he’d dropped that thing hundreds of times, and nary a scratch.

“Do me a favor,” he says, handing the phone back to its owner, “and don’t ping our location if you post to social media, yeah? I appreciate it.”

“You’re my favorite person ever,” one of the girls squeaks.

His face splits into a grin and he tucks his hands into his pockets. “Is that so?”

The girls spend the next five minutes chatting with him about music and how they’ve been following him ever since his YouTube days. He listens and chimes in every now and then when they ask him a direct question, but he prefers being passive in exchanges like this, content to hear peoples’ stories. It makes him feel normal, if only for a little while.

Finally, they take their leave, and James turns in the opposite direction even though the destination he had in mind is down the street the girls had just taken. But he’s been burned far too many times by encounters with seemingly innocent fans, only for them to begin following him around and showing up outside his house to talk to him again. He makes a point of not drawing out public encounters with his fans.

He wanders down a street he’s vaguely familiar with, figuring he can backtrack in a couple blocks. The night is too beautiful for him to be upset about needing to take a detour.

Everything looks different in the dark, the glow of neon signs bathing everything in hues of greens and blues and pinks and yellows. Shops and restaurants are mostly shut up for the night, their windows dark or blinds drawn. Dingey motels with pay-by-the-hour rates are in full swing, as are the pubs that have a revolving door of people in varying states of intoxication.

Deep bass that he can feel all the way in his chest catches his attention, and he gets turned around a few times, but he eventually finds the establishment: Bad Wolf Brews. At first, he doesn’t think it’s open, and that he must be mistaken about where the music is coming from, but the heavy front oak door opens, and he realizes the glass on the door is tempered so that the interior lights don’t shine through. The music is clear and heavy and vibrating in his bones. He doesn’t think twice before catching the door before it closes and slipping inside.

The air is humid and smells of sweat and stale beer. Bodies are writhing and gyrating to the rhythm blasting through invisible speakers. The acoustics are phenomenal; none of the layers are lost and the sound quality is nearly as good as if he were listening to the record at home on his own stereo system.

The lights are low, and he’s sure he trips into a few people in the minute it takes for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, but finally, he’s at the bar. There are three open stools, and he claims one between a blonde woman and a red-haired man as he wonders what the hell this dive bar serves. He can see beer taps, but he’s more of a cocktail guy. He must look as lost as he feels, because the bartender hands him a menu that looks like it was hand-written and then photo-copied. It jives with the overall vibe of the pub.

The bartender checks in with him a minute later. James opens a tab and orders a sidecar sans sugar, and is pleasantly surprised by the quality. Not to make assumptions, but he’d figured an establishment such as this would have cheap liquor. If the alcohol in his drink is cheap, it’s well masked.

When he’s drained the last drop and about to signal for another, a hand rests on his shoulder. “Can I buy your next round?”

James looks up into the face of a stranger. It’s a woman with striking green eyes and a disheveled pixie cut. Judging by her crimson cheeks and glazed eyes, she’s three sheets to the wind. There’s buzzed, then there’s drunk, and then there’s plastered. He prefers not to let himself get to that last category, and by extension, he doesn’t really like to associate much with people who won’t remember the night come morning.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” he says with his most charming grin. “G’night.”

He has no idea if the woman knows who he is, but the way she shrugs and saunters to the gentleman sitting beside James, he doubts it.

He gets clumsily propositioned a few more times and always politely declines with a smile. So far, nobody here seems to recognize him and he is going to ride out this anonymity for as long as it’ll last. It has been too long since he’s been able to sit in a pub and drink quietly. Well, quietly, insofar as crazed fans or paparazzi aren’t harassing him—the music is loud enough that he’s sure to have ringing in his ears for a few hours once he gets home.

But he’s not really in any rush to get home, and so he orders his fourth cocktail before making his way to the loo. Alcohol goes right through him, and it’s nearly gotten him in trouble on tour a time or two.

There’s no line, but the loo is crowded, and he tries to ignore the double-takes as he stands in front of a urinal to take care of business. If he wakes up tomorrow morning to find that someone snapped a photo of him having a piss, he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

Bladder tended to, James keeps his head ducked and shoulders his way back into the bar. His stool is unoccupied, and when he steps forward, he realizes why. A purse sits on it, seemingly reserving the seat but he can’t figure out for whom. He’s about to take the cocktail the bartender hands him and stand against the shadowed wall when someone picks up the purse.

It’s his blonde-haired stool mate. She flashes him a broad grin that lights up her entire face and squeezes something deep in his stomach.

“Saved your seat for ya,” she says with the ease and confidence of someone who’s known him his whole life.

“Thanks,” he manages through a suddenly dry mouth.

Feeling like an idiot for standing and gaping, he slips into his seat and downs half his new sidecar in one go. It’s as though the ice has been broken now, and she turns to him, her elbow on the counter and her cheek propped on her fist.

“Pretty sure you could outdrink a fish, mate,” she drawls, smiling again in that easy way that does too many strange things to his insides. “You’ve been knockin’ ‘em back for over an hour now.”

Has it really been that long? James checks his watch, and yup, it’s half past ten. The paps should be gone from his house by now, but he feels no draw to leave this place. The alcohol has left him pleasantly tipsy and warm, but he’s more drunk on the fantasy that he’s just a normal bloke having a nice night out in a newly-discovered dive bar.

“Fish don’t really drink though, do they? They absorb water through their gills via osmosis,” he replies, and he wants to bite his tongue off because what the fuck was that??

This woman, whatever her name is, doesn’t seem to mind his answer though, because her face scrunches in a giggle. His body is hot and throbbing with more than drink now, and he wants to hear that sound again but his brain has stopped working.

“Is that so different from you absorbin’ alcohol through your bloodstream?” she muses, finishing off whatever is in her short tumbler.

“Can I buy your next round?” he blurts rather than responding to her question, which he’s almost certain was rhetorical.

Her smile melts into something softer, something private and a little shy. “If you’d like.”

“I do.” He flags down the bartender and glances at his new companion expectantly.

“Gin and tonic,” she says. She thanks the bartender, then James when she takes her first sip. “I’m Rose, by the way.”

“James,” he says, feeling stupid because his face is plastered all over London, which likes to boast that it’s the home of international celeb James Noble. But wouldn’t he seem more of an arse if he just assumed this gorgeous woman knew who he was?

Nevertheless, his stomach sinks a bit when she snorts into her drink and says, “I thought it was you.”

“Yup, it’s me,” he forces, his voice flat. He hides his frown with his glass, knocking back the rest of his sidecar like it’s a shot. The room sways slightly with the violent motion of his head, and maybe he’s slightly drunker than he’d thought.

If Rose catches on to his sudden sour mood, she doesn’t mention it. “What brings you here to Bad Wolf?”

He shrugs and blows out a noisy breath. “I dunno. Went for a walk, ended up here.”

“Those are the best sort of adventures.” She hums wistfully. “Sometimes you find what you didn’t know you needed when you let yourself get lost.”

That observation is far too astute for his current state of mind, so instead he says, “Would you like to dance with me?”

Her eyes flicker across his face for a brief moment before she says, “Okay.”

He hops down from his stool, but Rose hesitates, clutching her purse and coat awkwardly. The bartender helpfully tells her to keep them on her stool, and he’ll keep an eye on it. Rose flashes him a grin that James would rather she flash at him, but he realizes that is utterly absurd, so he simply rests his coat on top of her things to better hide them from view. He then holds out his hand for her. Her palm is soft and warm against his as he leads her to the crowded dance floor.

They find space towards the back of the pub, hidden in the shadows of a hallway that states it’s closed off to patrons. And of course, of fucking course, right when he rests his hands on her hips to find the rhythm of the song, a new one comes on, and his own voice belts from the speakers.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. He loves his music—he made it, after all—but he can’t help but feel pretentious and more than a little silly to dance to it like this.

Rose, however, grins and says, “Oh, come on, this is one of my favorites.”

She catches his hands where he’d loosened them at her waist and forces him to grab hold of her. She’s wearing high-waisted trousers and a top that leaves a sliver of her belly exposed. His thumb grazes the skin of her bare side, and it’s enough to send tingles through his body. Rose, meanwhile, slings her arms around his shoulders and begins to rock her hips from side to side in sync with the bass, embellishing the motions until she looks absolutely ridiculous but so, so beautiful.

He can’t help but grin and laugh, and he mirrors her movements until they’re both dancing like idiots to his music.

“This is how my baby brother dances,” she explains, bouncing up and down while twisting her hips. “We have regular dance parties together.”

“How old’s your brother?” he asks.

“Just turned four.”

He blinks, and blood rushes from his face. “And… and how old are you?”

“A perfectly legal twenty-four,” she drawls, reaching up to flick his nose. “You can start breathing again.”

Thank fuck.

“That’s quite the age gap.”

“My mum got remarried when I was nineteen,” Rose says with a shrug. “She and my stepdad didn’t waste much time.”

“Clearly,” he mutters under his breath.

“It does feel a bit like they’ve started over,” Rose confesses with a too-stiff shrug. “New family, new life, and I’m the interloper.

There is no way this vivacious woman in front of him could ever be considered an interloper, but before he can tell her that, she continues, “Mum does her best to assure me otherwise, but still. It’s hard to watch all the things Mum and Dad are able to do for Tony—that’s my brother, Tony—when Mum struggled so much as a single mum with me.”

“Your dad’s not in the picture?”

A sad smile pinches her face, and he regrets asking.

“No, I never knew him. He died when I was a baby.”

“I… I’m so sorry.” Well, he’s totally buggered this all up, hasn’t he? He wracks his brain on how to salvage the easy banter they’d had at the bar, but draws a blank.

Rose seems to realize they’ve lost the mood, but she breaks out into a lazy grin and says, “Since you seemed so opposed to dancing to your own music, it’ll please you to know a new song’s on. C’mon, show me your moves.”

He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and so he follows her lead, watching her dance her heart out until her cheeks are pink and her hair is damp with sweat. He’s sure he doesn’t look much better, since he can feel the perspiration beading down his back and beneath his arms, but he can’t bring himself to care. Tonight has been the most fun he’s had in a very long time. Clubbing in New York had been a lark, but he’s been swarmed by his American fans half the night, and had been busy drowning his latest heartbreak to fully enjoy it. But here, now, with Rose, it’s like he’s any other bloke in a pub, chatting up a pretty girl he wants to get to know.

Their bodies are wrapped around each other with the ease and grace of partners who have known each other for years, and he forgets that he has known Rose for all of a few hours. He never wants this night to end. He wants to cling to this fairytale and pretend that the clock isn’t about to strike the proverbial midnight.

But time marches on as always. The clock really does strike midnight, and the bartender begins to clear people out of his establishment. James is as exhausted as he is exhilarated, no longer drunk on booze but rather the company of Rose and the magic they made together by simply dancing the night away.

They head back to the bar to retrieve their coats and her purse, and to close out their tabs. James slides his credit card to the bartender and asks him to charge everyone’s tab to his card. If the bartender is surprised, he hides it well. A few minutes later, James is signing off on the receipt of purchase of several thousand pounds-worth of alcohol. His personal assistant is sure to be confused as hell when she wakes up to see the charge. He fires off a quick warning text to her so she doesn’t open up a fraudulent charge claim.

James salutes the bartender, knowing he’ll come back to this pub as often as he can until he’s found out and this place once again becomes somewhere that’s overrun with his fans.

The night is refreshingly cold when he and Rose emerge into it, a nice change after the stifling, sweaty heat of the bar. However, she hunches her shoulders against the chill, prompting him to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her into his side, all too eager to lend her some of his body heat.

“Can I walk you somewhere?” he asks, glancing around the street that is now full of the drunken patrons who’d been in the pub with them. They all disperse in different directions, stumbling home or to a different bar that is still open. “Or wait with you ‘til you catch a cab?”

“Yeah, sure,” she says, pulling up her phone to order a ride. She taps on the screen for a few quiet moments then says, “Done. Should be here in a few minutes.”

They descend into a slightly awkward silence that James wants to break, but he can’t think of anything clever to say. So he says nothing, and finally headlights wash over them, momentarily blinding them before a taxi pulls up.

“D’you wanna share?” she asks, opening the door to the back seat.

Is she as reluctant to leave him as he is to leave her? Or is she being polite and eco-friendly by ride sharing? Nevertheless, he nods and slides into the back seat beside her.

There is something incredibly intimate about sitting with Rose in the dark interior of the taxi, and he feels like he’s fifteen and wondering how to hold his date’s hand after a cheap night out at the cinemas. He fists his hands together, knotting his fingers until his knuckles pop.

The driver goes to the address Rose provides first, and all too soon they’ve arrived.

“I’ll cover the fare,” he says when she makes to hand over some bank notes to the diver. “It’d be my pleasure.”

She hesitates, but nods, then opens the door to climb out of the car. His pulse quickens as he watches her walk away with nothing but a, “Goodnight.”

“Can you wait just a minute?” he asks the driver.

“Meter’s still runnin’,” he grunts.

“That’s fine.”

James scrambles out of the taxi. “Hey, Rose?”

She turns back to face him, frowning.

“I… er… I had a great time tonight,” he says lamely, but her frown relaxes into a smile. “It was fun. With you. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too,” she answers.

He licks his lips; his mouth is bone dry and his pulse pounds in his ears, making his vision throb with each frenzied beat.

“Do you… do you maybe wanna do it again some time? Hang out together? I… I’d really like to see you again,” he says, cursing his clumsy, fumbling words.

She scrutinizes him for a long moment, her expression indecipherable. His stomach sinks. Maybe this was a one-off, a story for her to tell her mates.

You’ll never guess who I met at the pub last night. James Noble! He paid for all my drinks and we danced like idiots.

He stews in his misery of doubt, and just when he’s about to tell her to forget about it, she slowly nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“Really?” he asks, a hopeful edge creeping into his voice.

She laughs. “Really.”

“Brilliant!” James fumbles in his pocket for his phone, and he thrusts it at her. “Give me your number? I’ll text you. Or call.”

He rocks back and forth on his toes and heels, waiting for her to finish up with his phone. He has a sudden, potent bolt of panic that she’s snooping through his private messages or photographs for something to use against him to make a quick profit, but before that panic can take root, she hands his mobile back to him. It’s open to a new texting conversation.

From: 🌹 Bad Wolf Girl 🌹

Now I’ve got your number too 😉

He beams at the name she’s given to herself in his contacts, then he pockets his phone.

“I’ll see you later,” he says.

“You better,” she replies with that knee-weakening smile he’s grown to love over the course of the night. “See ya.”

“Bye.”

He stands there like a moron until she’s safely inside, then he turns back to the taxi and climbs in. The deserted streets streak by as the driver takes him to his neighborhood. He never gives his address though; he always chooses a destination a few streets away, just in case.

James generously tips the driver and bids him goodnight before slipping into the night to his home. He was right: the paparazzi are gone. There is no fanfare as he slips his key into the lock and lets himself into his house. It’s warm and cozy, but still too quiet for his liking.

Between the plane ride and his night out, he feels greasy and disgusting, and indulges in a hot shower before bed. He washes Rose’s scent off of his body, an intoxicating blend of jasmine and vanilla that’s as sweet as it is musky.

He’s groggy by the time he crawls into his giant, king-sized bed and burrows deep into his mounds of pillows and duvets. One of his ex-girlfriends once teased that he turns into the marshmallow man when he sleeps.

His sleep is deep and dreamless, and when he awakes with the sun the following morning, he feels more refreshed and invigorated than he ever remembers being. He’s got a full day of meetings with his songwriting team to brainstorm his next album, and he is ready.

But first, he checks his phone. There’s nothing from Rose, which makes him a little sad, but also nothing from his publicist, which is always a good sign. If ever she messages or calls him first thing in the morning, it always means there’s some sort of dumpster fire to put out. Usually a dumpster fire full of compromising photos of him.

He makes a point of not Googling himself, but he does occasionally check his social media pages for new posts about him, wanting to know when, where, and how his fans came across him in the wild. He easily finds the photo that he took with the group of teenage girls, and makes a point to like the original post and type a quick, “Nice to meet you all. Thanks for chatting with me last night - J” in the comments section. He snorts to himself as his comment blows up within seconds.

But other than some grainy photos of him riding the bus, he can’t find any other photos of himself. Nothing of him wandering the streets or drinking in the pub or even having a wee in the mens’ room. And best of all, there’s nothing of him and Rose. No photos of them dancing together or sharing a cab. If Rose has a social media account, it didn’t post any sneaky photos or bragging stories about dancing all night with James Noble.

He can’t quite believe it; he managed to have a fun night out drinking without it all being thrown back in his face the next morning. Within seconds, he’s grinning to himself and pulling up Rose’s contact information. It’s still in his phone, further proof that his night with her wasn’t some sort of jetlagged fever dream. She was real.

“Good morning. I hope you slept well. Thanks for last night.”

She responds almost instantly. Good morning to you too. I should be thanking you for paying my drink tab and taxi fare 😉 And for being an excellent dance partner.

“The pleasure was all mine, on all counts.” He sends that message, then types out a new one, “I’m gonna be in meetings all day (yes, I know it’s Sunday), so please don’t be discouraged if I don’t reply. But I’d really like to see you again. Want to do dinner or drinks or coffee or something?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, needing to make himself presentable for when his driver picks him up in an hour. Yet he can’t help but check his phone every three seconds, until finally there’s a message from Rose.

Yeah, I’d like that. I work ‘til five most nights, but I’m free after that. Or we can wait ‘til the weekend.

With spirits lighter than they’ve been in months, James steps out of his house with a broad, stupid grin that the ever-present crowd of paparazzi are all too happy to photograph.

[rpmemes-galore]

a few people wanted to know the story, so enjoy.  fair warning, its a long, rough read, with a buncha triggers possible throughout.   but hey, hey, enjoy, i guess?  will probs end up deleting this later today and gonna work on memes.  hope y’all are doing okay, take care. 

My relationship with my older brother has always been really... rocky. Without going into too much potentially triggering detail, he hurt me a lot when I was younger, so there's a lot of fear surrounding him. Saying that now as the reason for why I could never stand up to him for this.

A few years ago, my family decided that someone should move into our late grandparents home to look after the place, and I immediately volunteered. I loved that home, that farm. There were a ton of good memories there, and I was so excited when my family agreed. But, then my health took a downward turn and it was decided I couldn't live alone due to safety reasons. Enter, my older brother. He was in his late twenties at the time, and parents wanted him to finally move out, so they said he was going to come live with me there to keep an eye on me in case something happened. I wasn't happy about it, but he was the only one who could, and the only way I'd get to live at my late grandparent's place, so I agreed to it.

Right from the start, things were not great. He didn't help unbox anything except for his own belongings... No kitchen stuff, no bathroom stuff, just his clothes and computer. As it was just me doing it, and with my fragile health at the time, it was taking me a long while to get it all done. And that's when my aunt thought it was a great idea to start doing weekly visits, i.e. inspections of the place. She got pissed when she saw things still boxed up after a week of being there, but told me she was willing to look past it if it got put away soon.

I busted my butt getting everything put away, then. But I was contending with other issues at that point. He'd started messing up the house. I would wake up to find garbage and crumbs across the kitchen counters and table, dirty dishes dropped wherever he was closest to, and his dirty laundry dropped on the living room floor. His room started getting bad, as well. From about a month of being there, it started to stink. I went in a few times and there would be dishes with rotting food on his dresser. The floor was covered in a layer of food wrappers and other garbage. Dirty laundry was thrown everywhere. His game discs, which we'll come back to later, would be laying unprotected on the floor.

It just got worse from there. At the start, he'd tidy up a little bit after himself. If I asked politely enough, he'd throw garbage away or bring his dishes out of the room... only if I asked him. Three months in. That changed. He started getting snippy at me, slamming and locking his door if I asked him to do anything around the house. His messes were getting worse, and it was just me trying to play catch-up everyday. It got to the point my morning routine was wake up, head out to the kitchen while picking up any dirty laundry / garbage on the way, gather up dirty dishes from around the room and put them on the counter to wash, wash a few of them just to get a headstart, wipe crumbs off all counters and table, wash the rest of the dishes (I still don't understand how he could use so many in a single night), sweep floors if the crumb situation was bad enough. All this before I'd allow myself to have anything to eat or drink, due to sheer panic of my aunt stopping by unannounced again and seeing the place in this state.

My brother was working a very part time job at the time and, as soon as he left for his shift, I would pounce on his room. I'd haul out armfuls (plural) of dirty dishes which I'd then hurry to wash, I'd carry out at least one full, heavy duty garbage bag of trash. I would try to make his bed after brushing off the crumbs. All this in the few hours I had before he'd get back home. And he would always get incredibly pissed at me for it, which I understand. I know it was an invasion of privacy and, if not for the aunt, I wouldn't have done it... But the state of his room was going to get us both evicted, so I felt justified doing it.

It went on this way for a year and half. During that time, he made me bring his game discs in to get them fixed, had me pay for them, and never paid me back. I wound up in the emergency room on three separate occasions, all due to working myself to the point of over-exhaustion and aggravating already pre-existing health problems. Once, when I was away for a few days, he'd turned my room into a storage room. Ie, he threw all his laundry and belongings on my bedroom floor because he didn't want to deal with them. I wound up having to sort through it and pick it all up. He moved the landline phone into his room, essentially cutting off my contact to the outside world behind a locked door as my cellphone barely had any service there. He took food money from me, against my will, to buy his own... Would eat part of it and let the rest rot in the fridge until I cleaned it out. (important note, I have a lot of dietary restrictions. So it's not like I could just snack on it or share it with him. I just had to deal with him basically stealing my food money, then wasting it on food I couldn't even eat.) He would lock himself in his room anytime the aunt came by, making me have to face her wrath on my own, because I had no lock on my door, and I wasn't allowed to put one on. He would barge into my room uninvited, but get pissed if I went into his. He would expect me to play video games with him and throw a fit if I said no, even after I explained that I had too much cleaning to do and, if he really wanted me to play with him, he would have to lend a hand so it would be done quicker and I might have energy to play. He never did. He wouldn't empty out our cat's wet food and would just let it go moldy if I wasn't there for a few days... and would 'forget' to refill her water.

The only jobs he was expected to do around the house were emptying the cat litter for our one cat and vacuuming, both things I physically couldn't do because of severe asthma. And once a week, he was supposed to bring laundry over to our parents place to wash, as we didn't have a washer or dryer. I remember him vacuuming once the whole time we were there. He rarely emptied the cat litter, which meant I would wind up having to do it once in a while and just suffer through a serious asthma attack afterwards. He also rarely brought the laundry over. I wasn't able to drive, so I would wind up having to ask my mom to bring it over with her when she visited. Three jobs. He hardly ever did any of them, but still expected the house to be clean when our aunt stopped by and would be upset if it wasn't. He just didn't want to have a hand in getting it that way.

On the subject of other family, I tried reaching out. My parents would visit on occasion. They both knew how bad it got, they'd seen it at the worst. I'd even called my mom in a full crying panic more than once, when the aunt called in the morning to say she she'd be there in an hour... And the house wasn't clean. Mom had to come over and help me speed clean it, with me working through a full-blown panic attack, scared I wouldn't have it "clean enough" by the time the aunt got there. Mom is also the one who drove me into the ER. She knew how bad it was, but he was her golden child. The "can do no wrong" child, and I was always the problem. She would tell me I was making it out worse than it was, that it wasn't that bad, that it wasn't his fault he was messy, that I should just deal with it and clean up after him. Dad would at least seem sorry for me. He'd tell me he wished my brother would clean up after himself, but that there was nothing he could do. Aunt just didn't want to hear my excuses. She would yell at me for the state of the place, after I'd worked myself half to death cleaning already. She blamed me for it, threatened to kick us out over every tiny thing wrong. Made passive aggressive comments. Took pictures and said she would show them to the rest of our relatives so they'd know how we were destroying the house, ect.

A year and a half of this. I lost a dangerous amount of weight. I hardly slept, hardly ate, anxiety spiked so badly I was having panic attacks at least once a week, especially toward the weekend when I knew the aunt was coming. All of my days were devoted to cleaning up after him. I dropped hobbies just to wash dishes or pick up his garbage. I even pulled an all-nighter just trying to make the house look presentable... After I'd been in the hospital and spent a few days at my parents place recuperating, so you can imagine the state of the house.

Toward the year and a half mark, I met my now husband. When we decided he should come spend the weekend, I was both happy and terrified. I worked myself to the point of passing out to make the place look decent. I asked my brother to help, told him we would be having company, and was met with a slamming door in my face while he went back to his video games. Now husband came up, we had a great time and chose to make it a weekly thing.

It was about a month into that when I went away for the weekend with my then bf. At this point, he kind of knew how bad it could get and just wanted to get me out of there for a few days. He'd even given my brother a piece of his mind for not emptying the cat litter and making me do it, because of my asthma. So brother hated him. Told me to break up with bf for being "rude" to him. Even called my mom to complain about it and it I got chewed out by my mom for "letting" my bf at the time talk to my brother that way. I was beyond sick of brothers bullcrap. I was exhausted. Had been in the ER just recently because of him, again, and needed to get away. Bf took me up to a cabin and we spent the weekend there, had an amazing time. And brought me home. From the second I stepped back into the farmhouse, I wanted to cry. It was an absolute disaster, like the brother had gone out of his way to destroy the place. So much garbage, laundry, dishes, ect. I said goodbye to the bf, who was horrified and reluctant to leave... And I started trying to make a dent in the horror show that was the house. It didn't take long for me to breakdown. When I called the bf that night to make sure he'd gotten home safe, I told him how bad it was. And he invited me to move in with him. I jumped at that chance for more reasons than one.

Brother took immediate issue with this. He threw a fit when I told him. Straight up told me I was being selfish, that I didn't appreciate all he did for me, that how dare I leave, how could I DARE to move in with someone who talked to him that way!! I just packed up a few of my things and went with the bf. Just like that. I was out.

It was three months before I went back to grab a few more of my things. In that time, brother had gotten an eviction notice from our aunt and was having to move back in with the parents. And I don't blame her one bit. Let me paint a picture for you of what I saw when I walked in the house: he'd run out of room for garbage on the counter and table, it was stacked too high, so.. he'd opened the oven, pulled the racks out and was piling garbage up on them, instead. Guess what the only place that didn't have garbage was... The pristine garbage can. The living room floor was covered in his dirty laundry. He had run out of clean dishes and resorted to using Tupperware lids as plates, with the dirty dishes covering the entire counter by the sink or stacked in his room. Speaking of, I caught a glance inside his room. The smell was worst in there. I could tell there was food in there from the time I left... Didn't try to take a step inside, obviously, not that there was a place to step. Keep in mind, this is AFTER the aunt had visited and demanded he cleaned up. She'd seen it this way, blew her top, and he still didn't give a crap. I, on the other hand, panicked. Call it ingrained at this point, but I started frantically cleaning. It was only my bf who stopped me. Had to actually grab my hands and hug me to get me to stop, with me hyperventilating and close to a panic attack. We got my things and got the hell out of there. But not before I noticed my brother seemed upset that I hadn't cleaned up while I was there.

Brother's living back with our parents and has trashed his room there. He's still pissy at me for calling him out on the way he treated me, and thinks I'm still required to be nice to him because mom says I should... and that he did absolutely nothing wrong with the way he behaved. He's also still holding a grudge against my hubby for him having the utter gall to tell him to be an adult and clean up after himself. Mom still denies it was bad (even though she's dealing with it now) or that I have anything residual from that time, despite the fact I told her that I get panicky and shaky when the place I'm living, now, gets even slightly untidy.

For me, I'm happier than I've ever been. I'm essentially no contact with my brother and limited contact with my mom. Just got married. Living with someone who loves me and actually helps with housework, even without being asked! Still dealing with the trauma of living in a place that felt THAT stressful and unsafe, but working on it. Not holding out much hope of brother realizing how entitled he was / is, but eh. He's not worth the time thinking about him.

[pokefanclaire]

London Tourist

Hello! I’m so new to this but I have another Lucifendi ship fanfic (don’t judge me too harshly) Also I don’t own any rights to the game, or characters its purely my weird thoughts. So this one is about a visiter that will come to London, and the Commissioner has asked Lucy to be his tour guide but Alfendi gets jealous and mutual pining happens. Pretty tame but please let me know what I'm doing as its all so new! Any advice would be greatly recieved.

London Tourist:

Lucy quietly knocked onto the commissioners office door startling him from an unexpected evening nap.

“Ah Lucy my dear, take a seat. Thank you for coming to see me at such short notice. The matter I want to share with you is of a personal nature. So please excuse that I have chosen you specifically”

Lucy suddenly felt uneasy.

“I have a friend, a very dear friend of mine who’s son will be coming to London for a few days and I was hoping you would be kind enough to show him around London. Inspector Layton will be able to maintain the cases for you while you’re away. I would like you to do this as a favour to me personally so all expenses will be covered by me. Is that clear my dear. I have had my assistant book tickets for some interesting plays, tours and visits that I believe will interest a couple of like minded youths as yourselves?”

“sounds grand sir”

she beamed at the commissioner thankful her unease was unwarranted.

“His name is Eric, he is your age I believe possibly a year older. I’m certain you’ll get along very well. He will be a calm and welcome change from your changeable mentor.”

“I look forward to meeting ‘im”

Lucy felt very proud that out of all her colleagues she had been chosen to show the commissioners dear friend’s son around London.

“thank you Lucy, that will be everything. And I thank you for rising to the challenge of tour guide” He chuckled as Lucy skipped toward to door. ‘What a sweet and generous girl’.

“Night Commissioner! Thanks agai’”

“Good night.”

Lucy ran back to the Mystery room hoping her mentor would still be around to hear her ‘mission’. Opening the door Lucy was greeted by an exhausted placid Prof stretched out on the sofa with case files scattering the dimly lit room

“Lucy dear! You’re still here.”

“I’ve jus’ finished speaking with th’ commissioner”

“ah yes, of course. Sorry Lucy I momentarily lost track of myself. Are you about to embark on a solo mission? Can you tell me any details or is it on a need to know basis?”

Alfendi chuckled toward Lucy, adoring the pride on her face.

“oh it’s nowt like that Prof, its a personal favour the commissioner would like me to do for his good friend. He wants me to take care of his friend’s son while he visits London”

Alfendis eyes shot up to meet hers “He?”

“yea, some lad a similar age to me. Eric I think it wer’”

“…and…. you said yes?”

“’course Prof, I cant let him down. Besides I don’ have no reason to turn him down”

“……. oh”

“you can ‘elp if you like? You know London better than anyone ‘ere at Scotland yard. I still feel like a tourist”

“...doubt he’ll want to see the London eye once he sets eyes on you dear Lucy...” his voice suddenly sounded bitter as a streak of crimson hair washed over his head.

“Um hi Potty, I wasn’t expecting you this late in the evening”

Alfendi’s eyes were hidden under crimson dishevelled hair making it hard to read his expression but a smirk pulled at the edge of his smile.

“Just fine my dear Lucy, and yes I would be thrilled to guide you when my schedule allows. In fact i’m quite free now”

“We can wait for Eric. He will arrive tomorrow afternoon some time, and I have ‘is number here”

Potty Prof strode toward Lucy unexpectedly grabbing her wrists.

“In that case, now is the very best time to show you the city before any corruption. Don’t you agree dear Baker?”

His grip worsened on her now pink wrists. Before she could register the twinge of pain, Alfendi had pulled her forward sending her tumbling into his chest.

“Clumsy girl” he sneered. “falling for me are you my dear Lucy?”

Lucy looked up, unable to process the last few exchange of words.

“sto’ messin’ with me Potty”

Alfendi towered over her, a streak of red flashed across his cheeks as he crouched to meet her eyes.

“I haven't started yet my dear, now please collect your belongings. I really must show you what London can do to you before Eric has the chance”

‘Did I hear that ‘ight? Is he jealous of some lad I haven't even met seeing London wi’ me?’ Lucy had never seen her mentor like this. Lucy had regular run ins with Potty Prof, that wasn't new. But she was sure he had some new found venom in his voice while pronouncing his name too...

Lucy struggled to keep up with Alfendi’s new speed and determination to leave the mystery room.

“Baker! Come on!”

a desperate sounding Alfendi held his hand out to take Lucy’s. Pulling her from the room he fumbled with keys, hastily locking the Mystery room.

“I’ll get the commissioner for this.. I swear….” he snarled under her breath to no one in particular.

Alfendi took a deep breath “Lucy dear….” He held out a slightly trembling hand to her “….please allow me to…show you….what i’ve longed to… for some time… but if I can just....” He stumbled as flashes of burgundy replaced the crimson red of his hair “.. accompany you this evening” he finished by kissing the back of her hand.

“Prof? Are ya ok?”

“Yes dear, I just wish I had more time than fate has decided to grant me, more time so that… I could show you both sides.. and how… he is all bark.. he wouldn't hurt her....”

Alfendi’s train of conversation trailed off as he began muttering to himself. Or his other side she thought.

“prof if ya sure its not an inconvenience. Then lets go! Where first?”

Splashes of red and dishevelled hair gave Lucy a small jump.

“oh hi Potty! Where to first?”

“Baker, dear Baker...” He whispered in a sultry tone forcing her to take a step backwards.

“Why don’t we start here?”

Alfendi increased his steps toward Lucy.

Lucy instinctively stepped back matching his speed knowing how unpredictable Potty could be. Her wrists let out a twang of pain reminding her of his last practical joke on her. ‘You’re tougher than this Lucy lass’ she encouraged herself ‘He’s your Prof, he wont ‘urt you’ she glanced left and right in blind panic looking for an escape. Alfendi cupped her chin with his hand bringing her wide eyes to meet his. ‘Don’t panic’ Lucy thought as she acknowledged Pottys hand on her chin, softer and gentler than she expected. A rush of heat rose to her cheeks as she breathed in that familiar scent of her beloved Prof ‘Why now Potty? always keeping me on my toes’ an audible groaned slipped past her lips as she felt his heated breath against her lips

“Potty?...”

She took a step back to gain some distance.

THUD.

Lucy’s back met with the wall.

“yes dear?….”

Alfendis hand slid down her chin, caressing the soft skin of her neck.

“you know Baker, I wanted more time… This little situation with Eric has meant I have had to adapt to time constraints” he took a final step closer to Lucy closing the distance between them

“…..will you forgive me if I act at all un-gentelmanly under these circumstances….”

He lowered his hands to meet hers, lifting them above her head in one fast and smooth motion.

“….Prof? What’ got into ya all sudden like”

Lucy’s hands struggled against Alfendi’s but he was taller, stronger and currently sporting his darker persona.

“this aint some time to joke ya kno’ Prof ya said ya were gonna show me London before Eric arrives”

Alfendi leaned into her neck, his breath uneven and franticagainst her ear.

All the hair on the back of her neck rose as waves of electricity seemed to shoot down from her now numb arms held above her head. The comforting smell of Alfendi filled her head and she bit down on her bottom lip letting out a small squeal.

“I said i’d show you what I… I mean London can do to you..”

“Please Prof my arms.. they hurt a little”

Crimson hair flashedto deep burgundy as he let go on Lucy’s arms.

“Lucy, please forgive me, are you in pain? Are you okay.. please forgive me...us?”

Alfendi nuzzled his face into her neck not wishing to meet her eyes and confirm what he already knew.. that he had blown any future chance with his sweet Lucy. he spoke softly. 

“Please Lucy, its me I wont hurt you. I’m so sorry”

“Prof...”

“Lucy?”

Alfendi took a cautious step back and forced himself to meet with her rubyred eyes. Lucy stared into the Prof’s soft amber eyes, taking in the look of embarrassment and hurt that marked his face.

Alfendi scanned her face in a panic searching for clues to her expression was she upset? Scared? no. thats not it. A soft glow of red spread across her cheeks intensifying the ruby red of her beautiful eyes.

“Prof, my ‘ands were numb is all. Dont fret, I aint hurt”

Alfendi studied her face with desperate closeness causing Lucy to blush brighter with fresh heat flooding to her cheeks

“Prof please...”

she stifled a moan by biting down on her own lip wincing.

“Lucy dear…I cant begin to…”

“Prof’.Al......”She paused “Alfendi. I was never in any danger..not from you.”

An unfamiliar serious expression marked Lucy’s sweet face as she matched Alfendi’s closeness causing him to take a step back.

“wasn’t there something important you wanted to do to me Alfendi...?”

[ka-writes]

——————

Notes: I felt evil..

Also cross country sucks, now I feel sick.

But I gift longish chapter!

——————

Incase you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 4:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

——————

Warning: trauma flash backs, cussing, mentions of character death, fear.

——————

Chapter 5: Rocky Road

——————

Techno certainly didn’t expect Tubbo’s sudden outburst. Still Techno sort of expected bitterness towards the human.

The droneling marched off presumably to go to the garden. He shoved Wilbur out of the way and continued speaking gibberish.

“What’s with Tubbo?” The phantom asked, casting worried glances towards the door.

“He just threatened the human.” Techno said as if it wasn’t the most stupid move on Tubbo’s part. Wilbur’s eyes grew wide and he attempted to run to the holding cell, only to be stopped by Techno’s hand on his shoulder. The phantom sighed before turning towards the guard.

Silently the pair made their way to the common room. Flicking on the illusion projector, and turning the channel with the ISF news. Techno opened a novel not paying any mind to the news reporter who was going over the case that Techno had just escaped.

There weren't any further advances on the story other than what they knew. The ship had crashed on Omar, a nature preserve, which led the ISF to find eight human bodies and twelve recognized crew members. Though there were fourteen to begin with, not that the news knew that of course. The ship was also deemed as a poacher ship and not much else was discovered.

After the story was covered a different news reporter came on screen. He was shifting his papers nervously and glanced down every so often. This caused Techno to close his novel and pay attention to the illusion.

“Just one day ago, one of the Dream Team crew members quit.” The news reporter took a shaky breath before continuing, “Today the crew has reported that the ex-crew member had taken one of the humans they were using for testing.” A picture of Tommy appeared on screen, “This is what the human looks like. We advise citizens to be on the lookout for this man,” a picture of Wilbur popped onto the screen, “and the human. If you see either one in public do not engage and immediately report it to one of your stationed guards.” The man finished and Wilbur immediately flicked off the TV.

Him and Techno shared a glance of pure shock. Wilbur shed a couple blue tears and immediately started panicking. The guard wrapped his brother until a tight hug and fought off the voices chants of “NOT SAFE”. Silence drew the pair into an unsteady atmosphere.

——————

“Honestly that kid is a burden. I don’t know why you think we can take care of him.” A lady said, fury wasn’t hidden behind a fake smile at this point. The man standing next to her nodded silently.

“Ma’am, I don't understand what you’re saying.” Another lady responded, patience running thin.

Tommy held back the tears that were threatening to fall. His lip was already bleeding and his fingers felt raw. His bruises were itching uncomfortably under his tight shirt. He was starting to overheat, yet kept his jacket wrapped around him protectively.

“What I am saying is, we don’t want him, and I doubt anyone else will.” The lady started, “That kid is a nuisance. He makes our children look problematic, when in reality he is the problem child. I don’t understand how his parents put up with him for so long.” The lady finished.

“Only my mother put up with me,” Tommy thought, “my father couldn’t spare me a glance without yelling at me..”

He sat in the waiting room for what felt like hours before making the decision. The one that caused him to live on the streets.

He took his bag and sprinted out of the facility. He just kept running, nowhere to go and no money to use.

….

Suddenly it was a different night. He was sitting on a park bench looking at the stars. He was somewhere in Colorado, not sure how he made it here, but here he was. He breathed in the fresher air and pushed himself up.

He turned left then right then another left. At this point he was on one of those nature paths that seemed to be everywhere.

He sat in a field. Wasn’t it night?

A light and a huge gust of wind was the only response he got.

Then footsteps. A distant scream. Then cold sharp pain accompanied by a void of darkness.

He woke up in a cage..

He shot up in bed.. His head throbbed, but there was no point in sleeping it off.

So he got up. He hobbled over to the bookshelf and looked at the weird games and toys. His eyes fell on what he presumed to be a stack of cards and a pen of sorts.

It took an hour to label all the cards, but when he finally did he played a game of solitaire. Then another and another. By the time he finished the sixth one he was bored.

He went back to inspecting the bookshelf. The middle shelf had jigsaw puzzles.. didn’t Clem like puzzles?

He picked out what he presumed to be a flower field. There were a bunch of blue sunflowers.. wasn’t that her favorite flower?

Tommy sat on the floor creating a puzzle his sister would’ve absolutely adored. Silent tears slipped down his cheeks every once and a while. Only to be hastily wiped away.

——————

His eyes felt like they were glued shut. They attempted to sit up only to find creaks in their back and neck.

After a minute he sat up. His mind was still foggy from sleep, but he made his way to the security office, ready to work through his sleep deprived state.

Before they even left the room Phil told them to go back to rest. Ranboo obliged, and closed his door.

Having no work left he decided to write down as much information as he could about both Earth and Tommy.

Surprisingly they were able to recall a lot of information from the night before. That usually didn’t happen..

Once they wrote an entire dictionary on both topics, they tried the door again.

Phil, once again stepped in front of them, “Mate, I really think you should rest.”

“I know, but I am hungry. Can I at least have lunch?” Ranboo felt like a child once again, but knew it always worked with the captain.

After Phil rolled his eyes, Ranboo practically skipped to the kitchen. He grabbed some of the leftovers from last night and popped it into the insta-heater. Making two plates of food.

After the food was ready he looked down either hallway. Phil was preoccupied with Wilbur in the common room. Deciding it was the best time to sneak to his friend, he made his way to the holding cell. Only to be stopped by none other than Techno himself.

“Oh! H-hi Techno..” Ranboo said awkwardly.

“What are you doing?”

“I-I was just getting Tubbo some lunch!” Ranboo cringed at their own lie. Only to be met with a raised eyebrow.

“Ok I was gonna visit Tommy.” Ranboo caved. That was the right answer as Techno nodded and let Ranboo pass.

“You’re only giving him lunch right?” Techno inquired.

“Er- that and talk a bit.. I mean that was my original plan.”

“Then I will stay with you.” Techno left no room for debate.

Ranboo nodded and approached the cell, setting the plate on the automatic tray. Techno stood in a small hallway allowing his presence only to be known to Ranboo.

Tommy was sitting on the floor putting together a landscape puzzle.

With what they saw, their curiosity intrigued them.

“Can I go in?” He asked first to Techno who shifted off of the wall.

“Only if I am in there.” Ranboo nodded and turned to Tommy who was busy with the puzzle.

Ranboo knocked on the window once. Tommy’s head shot up before the human stood up and approached the window.

“Hello!” Ranboo chirped, “I can see you’re working on a puzzle! I would love to help if you want? Me and my friend won’t go in if you don’t want me in there. But just so you know I brought lunch!”

Tommy stared at the enderian before answering. He was clearly debating the options.

“Only if Techno doesn’t talk.” Was the only response either got.

With that they grabbed the food and let the door open. Techno entered first, immediately going to the back chair and pulling out a novel. Ranboo handed Tommy a plate and sat next to the strange human.

It didn’t take them long for them to start rambling. Both about everything and nothing.

Surprisingly Ranboo lost all fear that should’ve been gripping them, and felt comfortable sitting with one of the most dangerous creatures in the galaxy.

——————

“So people are looking for you?” The captain asked, impatiently tapping his foot against the metal floor.

“To put it simply, yea..” Wilbur said pretty much losing all confidence within the span of an hour.

The caption responded with a sympathetic look and wrapped his son in another tight hug. Wilbur didn’t pull away this time. He melted into comfort.

After a minute the elder pulled away, “How about you watch one of those documentaries you like. I will make some iced fluff and join you in a bit.” The phantom nodded and trugged himself over to the common room sofa. Turning on the illusion and flicking to one of the only things the ISF was allowing people to view from Earth, Netflix.

He skimmed the documentary section and came upon one that was about the Ocean. Three minutes later he was completely into it.

Phil returned with two bowls of iced fluff. Wilbur dug into the sweet treat. Phil sat next Will and wrapped a wing around him, to which Will leaned into the embrace.

——————

“So what’s your favorite treat?” Ranboo asked, after he got another piece Tommy wasn’t able to get.

Tommy scoffed, mumbling about how he was just about to try that spot before answering the question, “I love Rocky Road Ice Cream. My mom made it without nuts so it is far superior to anything anyone would get from a store.” Tommy was satisfied with his answer and tried another piece.

“Hmm.. What is ice cream?”

“It’s a sweet frozen cream of sorts.”

“Oh so like iced fluff?”

“No idea, I would have to try it first..”

Both continued the conversation mumbling about other different foods and what not, before falling into a comfortable silence.

Tubbo was absolutely furious at the scene. He sprinted off to the garden where he slammed the door and melted to the floor.

When was the last time anyone had a conversation that was about everything and nothing with him?

He hated the fact he was jealous over a fucking human.

Tomorrow was the day he would prove the human wasn’t all he seemed to be. That the human was nothing more than a monster.

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Chapter 5-End

Words: 1826

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Notes: I still have a few filler chapters, but am getting there!!

Go take care of yourself, love ya!! <3

Reminder likes are appreciated but reblogs are even better! (Suggestion make a side blog where you just spam creators works... just saying, I have one..)

Also my layout for chapters has changed a bit. I have the last chapter at the top and the next one at the bottom.. and no I am not doing the inspired by on Ao3, simply cause it’s easier for people to see it in the first few, I am keeping it here tho, cause I know people aren’t really gonna see my first chapter right away. I will be keeping the link to the first chapter at the top as well just not the middle ones.

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Tubbo has evolved in to

J E L L Y B E E

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Chapter 6:

[remmushound]

@brightlotusmoon @errorfreak88 Part 3 of my bay/rise crossover.

Leonardo didn't know where he was, and frankly he wasn’t sure he cared. He was more concerned about not knowing where April and Splinter and Donatello and Raphael were. His brothers— his family! He had reached out to them, felt his fingers brush against Splinters, and then they were being pulled apart again. Pulled away from each other. Then Leonardo was flying out of the rift, clinging with all his might to the only one he had managed to protect. Michelangelo. He landed hard, skipping across metal with solid thuds like a rock on water as he clung to the box turtle’s shell, his baby brother still hiding within. The bouncing eventually turned into a slide that brought Leonardo to crash against a wall. Pain shot through his extremities, but it only made him hold on to Michelangelo even tighter.

The minute they stopped, Michelangelo popped out his shell with a sharp yipe, his arms shooting out and wrapping around Leonardo to cling to him like a security blanket. Leonardo couldn’t help but smile and rubbed the younger mutants head in a comforting motion.

“It’s okay, hermano. Just a little bit of a bumpy ride.”

Michelangelo whimpered and his nose went back into his shell.

“Oh come on! Don’t be like that!”

Michelangelo pulled his arms and legs back in as well.

“Awww, come on~” Leonardo pushed himself away from the wall to lean over Michelangelo and peek into the shell as his shadowed face. “You know you wanna come out!”

“Where is out?” Michelangelo asked, his voice carrying a strange echo.

“Er…” Leonardo looked around. He didn't recognize the place, a giant metal ball with a spiraling floor design and a high ceiling, a blinking light at the top of it. He hummed and narrowed his eyes at the luring draw of the light, but didn't acknowledge it Past that. “Pokeball?”

“What? No we’re not!”

“Well how you gonna know if you don’t come out?”

Leonardo smirked and leaned back to give Michelangelo enough space to emerge. Michelangelo peeked his nose out once more.

“That’s it! Just a little more!” Leonardo encouraged.

Michelangelo’s full head poked out, and his neck too so he could look around at their surroundings. “Woah. This is so cool!”

“Cool isn’t exactly the word I’d use.” Leonardo whistled and stood up, reaching for his sword naturally. It was nowhere on his body.

“Hey uh— you don’t happen to have your yoyo, do you Miguel?”

“Um…” Michelangelo reached to his belt and frowned. “No. It’s gone somewhere… do you have your swords?”

“No.”

The structure gave a powerful groan and Michelangelo yelped, attaching himself to Leonardo’s side like glue. “It’s spooky here…”

Leonardo would be lying if he said that a similar anxiety hadn’t grown in his gut the moment they entered this strange place. Cold, dark, mechanical— everything Donatello loved, except without the eccentric nature. But he couldn’t be scared now. He has Michelangelo to look after, and right now his baby brother needed him.

“Hey hey hey, don’t get soft on me now!” Leonardo beamed, leaning down to Michelangelo’s level. “We just escaped the mother-freaking Shredder and you’re scared of a dingy little metal ball?”

“It’s not very little, Leo…”

Leonardo scoffed and waved a hand dismissively. “Potato potahto! Tomato tomatoh! Shredder, Giant Metal Ball of Doom! What’s the difference?”

Michelangelo didn't answer.

“The only one I can think of is that Shredder was waaaay scarier!”

“Oh really?”

Both turtles froze at the new voice. Leonardo gently placed his brother down, keeping an arm still wrapped around him to keep them both close.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” The new voice laughed in a mocking, wheezing tone, “Turn around.”

Leonardo could see no other option other than to obey. He gave Michelangelo a reassuring pat and held his brother just a little tighter before turning to face whoever it was that had called out to them.

The creature was big, a body near as broad as Raphael’s carapace and a shape that was loosely spherical. It’s entire body gleamed with a layer of slime that oozed out from folds on the sides of it’s head, and every so often a tentacle would reach up to gather the accumulating mucus and spread it throughout its body to keep itself moist. There was a crown on its head, a ridge higher than the rest of its body that slightly resembled the crown of certain dinosaurs. Leonardo could almost swear that whatever it was, was the brain of some massive creature, escaped from its body to do whatever it is that giant, tentacle-having brains do.

“Well?” The creature stroked feelers on it’s face, what could pass as lips parting to reveal tiny, dolphin-like teeth.

Leonardo only allowed himself enough time to blink before he forced his smile to come back and meet the strangers smirk. “Well what?”

The creature lunged forward, supported by pipes that extended out from the misproportioned battle suit, bringing it within inches of touching Leonardo. “Aren’t you scared?”

“Scared of what? A chewed up wad of bubble gum that gained sentience?”

It growled and one of its tentacles came down upon Leonardo, covering him in the thick, viscous coating of it’s body.

“Oh I’m sorry! Did I get some slime on you?”

Leonardo didn't flinch. He reached out a hand and poked the creature on the nose. “It is not slime, it is mucus!”

It growled and swatted Leonardo before pulling back again closer to its suit. “Who said you could touch me with your foul, disease-ridden hands?!”

“Hey hey hey!” Leonardo threw his hands up in surrender, “I bathe regularly! It’s Raphael you gotta look out for.”

“You think you’re funny, do you?” It squinted its eye at Leonardo.

“I think I’m adorable. Don’t you?” Leonardo put his hands under his chin and batted his eyes.

“I think you’re an obnoxious freak of nature.” It tried to draw forth a violent reaction, but Leonardo remained cool.

“Eh, aren’t we all?” Leonardo shrugged, “But this obnoxious freak of nature has a name. Do you?”

The creature seemed to consider Leonardo’s question for a moment before saying, “It’s Krang.”

Leonardo snickered.

“What?” Krang snapped, almost defensively, “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry— sorry!” Leonardo almost keeled over laughing.

“What’s so funny— what’s so funny, it’s just my name!”

“It’s just— ahahaha— did your mom hate you or something?”

Michelangelo started to finally get in on the laughing, and soon both brothers were almost falling over.

“I chose my own name— the Queen doesn’t have time to name all of us!” Krang defended, grunting as its features scrunched up.

“So you’re saying you have a face not even a mother could love?” Leonardo smirked, recovering from his laughter at will. “Man, that is depressing!”

“ENOUGH!” Krang shot two wired pipes forward to grab Michelangelo and Leonardo, squeezing them harshly. “Now you listen here, little turtles! I am not in the mood for games.” It’s eyes glanced between the brothers in an almost alien way, “And if all you’re going to do is play with me, then I’m going to put you away in my toybox.”

“Sounds fun!” Michelangelo piped.

“Fun?” Krang shifted to look at Michelangelo.

“Yeah! In a big box with a whole bunch of other people, having slumber parties every night!” Michelangelo hummed and sighed.

“Well, I’m glad you’re going to enjoy yourself. It’s an extended stay.”

Krang shifted slightly, its armor suit slow and topheavy, and at the press of a button on the suit the floor began to open up and reveal a spiraling display case. Rows upon rows of small, frozen containers. A thick layer of frosty smoke escaped through the opening and filtered out through vents. Krang hung the two brothers over the drop and loosened his grip just to feel the fear of his prisoners. Looking down into the endless abyss of bodies distorted by frost and age, Leonardo felt a sense of vertigo overtake him. It seemed Krang latched onto the fear almost immediately, judging by the evil expression on its face.

“Not so eager to visit the other toys now, are you?” Krang laughed and pulled Michelangelo and Leonardo back over solid ground, putting them down as the ground closed once more. “Now maybe you’ll play nicely.”

“Where are my brothers?” Leonardo demanded, “My family?”

“They’re fine. They were spit out somewhere or other. Does it really matter?”

“Yes.” Leonardo snarled.

“Hmm…” Krang rubbed their folds in concentration, “Then why don’t we make a deal, little turtle?”

“What kinda deal?” Leonardo returned to hugging his brother as Michelangelo cowered against him.

“I didn't just call you here to chat.”

“Well you’re sure doing a lot of talking anyway.” Leonardo grumbled under his breath.

“I brought you here for a far more important reason.” It folded its tentacles over its mouth.

“Care to share with the class?”

Krang huffed. “You have something that interests me— or more like had. You see, a year ago today I tried to take over the earth.”

Leonardo laughed. “Didn't do a good job— you didn't even make the news! I’m sure I would know if there was a broadcast about a giant brain in a robot suit tried to take over the planet.”

“Not your earth. A different earth.”

“There’s more than one?” Michelangelo asked.

“Oh, there is a plethora of earths, all slightly different from the last! But yours… intrigues me. It’s one of the more recent ones, and the use of your ‘mystic magic’ caught my attention.” Krang circled Leonardo like a cat with a mouse, “The way you teleport around with such ease, even without a beacon to guide you~”

“Spit it out, Gellatinous, I haven’t got all day.”

“You’re very impatient for someone whose at the mercy of one far smarter.”

“Eh, I can handle Donnie, but that has nothing to do with this.” Leonardo snarked off, “What do you want?”

“I have you, and I have your family, and I have your sword.”

“Great. And what does that have to do with the price of jelly doughnuts?”

“I want you to show me how to use the magic you possess, and afterwards I will let you and your brothers go back on your merry way!”

“I thought you were all knowing or whatever.”

“I never claimed that. I too need to learn like every creature does.”

“How do we know you’re not lying about letting us go?” Michelangelo pouted, sticking out his lip.

“Do I look like the lying type to you?”

“Yes.” Michelangelo and Leonardo said as one.

“Mm. Clever boys. Well, the answer is that you don’t know. But you don’t really have many choices either.”

“Mm. Fair.” Leonardo shrugged. “Whatchu need me to show you?”

“How to activate the rift that you’ve seemed to master.” Krang tapped its tentacles together.

“Oh that’s easy! You just take the sword and go woosh woosh,” Leonardo made vague gesture, “Then it goes all whoooooo whaaaaa bwaaaaa!” He made a motion of a rift opening. “Then you go all ‘take me so and so’ and badda bing badda boom, you’re done! That work?” Leonardo clicked his tongue and wink.

“What.” Krang narrowed his eyes.

“Well, you take the pointy part and go whish woosh, then slish slash, hundred yard dash, and you’re in Paris!”

“I— I don’t understand what you’re saying!”

“Well you take the thing and do the thing so it makes a thing then you go through the thing and bam: the thing is done! Take a break and get yourself a pizza for your hard work.”

“You’re getting on my nerves.”

“Exactly how many nerves does a brain have anyway?”

“I’M NOT A BRAIN I’M AN UTROM!”

“A who-trom?” Michelangelo tilted his head.

“AN UTROM!”

“You-tron?” Leonardo asked with a smirk.

“GRRR— just show me how to do it!” Krang pulled Leonardo’s sword out of thin air and dropped it into Leonardo’s hands. “And don’t think you can outsmart me!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, K-Pop.” Leonardo took the sword and pointed it, dragging it to make a circle. His face illuminated the glow and he smiled.

“Yes!” Krang cheered, smilingly widely and holding out its tentacles to Leonardo. “Give it to me!”

“Yeeeeah, no.” Leonardo stared a moment and then winked before stepping through the blue and disappearing along with the mystic portal.

“NO!” Krang launched himself forward and grabbed at the space where the turtles had once been, “GET BACK HERE!”