#haven's fic map

[havenscribes]

ONLY WARRIORS - Bucky Barnes x Wakandan!Regent!Reader

"Bucky Barnes has no concept of personal space."

Lady!Y/N will not slow down. She's a pioneer at the forefront of technological advancements, living in the most intelligently designed country in the world. At the top of her game, she's raised over 55 million dollars with just a few speeches. After the deaths of two royal icons, a new era of protection has begun under the first female Black Panther, and a new fight is needed for the future of Wakandan people: public diplomacy. She follows in the footsteps set by Nakia and T’Challa, striving to make the world a better place, or at least, help them catch up.

Bucky Barnes is not done making amends. He’s still going to therapy, and knowing that Steve’s legacy is in good hands helps his guilt, but he wants to take a more proactive approach to helping. Rubbing elbows with elites isn't really his cup of tea, but he’s only here at this Louvre gala thing to congratulate Queen Shuri and to offer his condolences. After the life he's had, he's ready to slow down and avoid action at all costs.

In the midst of the millionth inspirational speech by Y/n, the museum is attacked by Namor, who vows to enact his revenge on the surface world. Y/N narrowly escapes, but the near miss rattles Shuri, who now refuses to let her out of her sight without any kind of protection. Luckily, Shuri knows just the guy who still owes her a favor.

⋆ Warnings: Reader is kinda cocky, fluff, some angst, MCU level violence, a teensy bit of Namor x reader, Shuri is our cousin, Bucky is annoying, Sam is an angel, happily ever after ⋆ Playlist

Chapters: ⋆ Chapter One ⋆ Chapter Two ⋆ Chapter Three ⋆ Chapter Four

[swanlakebaby]

body worship | pjm

prompt: jimin body worshipping you on a cold snowy night

♡ pairing: bf!jimin x fem!reader

⸝⸝ warnings: smut, bts jimin, fem reader, bf jimin, kissing, passionate, winter, cold night, snowy night, body worshipping, soft jimin, soft dom

♡ word count: 461

⸝⸝ note: kinktober 🤍 day nineteen !!! :) i know its fall but im soooo ready for winter, i had to include it in atleast ONE kinktober fic.

• nsfw/18+

kinktober masterlist

-

on a snowy winter night, as the world outside was blanketed in white, the warmth of the fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the room. thick snowflakes swiftly fell from the sky and onto the ground. the air was crisp, but inside, the atmosphere was thick with desire. you wrapped yourself in a snug blanket, but it was the heat radiating from him that made your heart race.

jimin sat beside you, his gaze lingering on your lips, the way they glistened in the firelight. the room felt intimate, cocooned from the outside chill, and as he leaned closer, you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

“come here,” he whispered, an invitation laced with urgency. you shifted closer, your heart pounding as he enveloped you in his arms, the blanket falling away to reveal the softness of your skin against his.

his hands began to explore, tracing the delicate lines of your collarbone and the curve of your waist. every touch was reverent, as if he were worshipping you, mapping the landscape of your body with his fingers. you shivered under his caress, the warmth of his skin igniting a fire within you.

“your body is a work of art,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your shoulder, sending tingles down your spine. they were sweet, soft kisses that left trails of warmth in their wake, coaxing you to lean into him further. “let me show you how beautiful you are.”

with each kiss, he worshipped you, exploring the curve of your neck, the dip of your back, savoring every inch as if it were a sacred treasure. you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensations, the world outside forgotten as the snow continued to fall softly.

his hands traveled lower, fingers dancing along the contours of your hips, igniting a longing that pooled in your belly. “you deserve to feel cherished,” jimin breathed, his voice low and filled with desire. you felt yourself melting under his touch, every kiss a promise, every caress a declaration.

as he pulled you closer, your lips finally met, soft and tender, the kiss deepening with every passing moment. it was a dance of warmth against the cold, a melding of bodies that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. you lost yourself in the taste of him, the way he cradled your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

snow continued to fall outside, but in your little haven, you were enveloped in a world of your own, each kiss a whisper of devotion, each touch a testament to the beauty of their connection. you felt adored, cherished, and utterly alive, all while the winter night wrapped around you both like a soft, cozy blanket.

-

tags: @ririkookiemonster @rispwr

(comment/dm to be added)

[petrichor-idyllic]

MINHO

MASTERLIST

CONTENT WARNINGS IN GREEN

NO SMUT OR EXPLICIT CONTENT

○ FLUFF | □ SPICE | ● ANGST |• HEADCANONS

◇ FEM! READER | ☆ GN! READER | 《》 MASC! READER

□ LONGING FROM AFAR ◇

↳ Minho has always been cocky and self-assured. That is until a girl arrives in the Glade. A girl he's had some interesting dreams about.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

• SOME HEADCANONS ◇

↳ Just some headcanons about our favourite Runner.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

□ FIRECRACKER ◇

↳ Minho finally agrees to teach you how to fight after weeks of pestering him. Though, things take an unexpected turn.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

○ SAFE PLACE ◇

↳ After you narrowly escape the vicious actions of another Glader who couldn't take no for an answer, you find refuge in Minho's hut - and his arms.

Contains references to sexual assault but there's nothing explicit.

○ UNDER THE INFLUENCE ◇

↳ After the Greenie Day celebrations leave you a little bit intoxicated, Minho takes care of you and keeps you safe.

○ HIDE AND SEEK ◇

↳ You're training to be a Runner and, as the Keeper, Minho is made to look after you. Though, things take a dramatic turn as Minho is forced to save your life.

□ LET ME MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER ◇

↳ Somehow, you end up giving your best friend a massage. Things go about as well as expected.

Basically the start of a bad porn scenario.

□ INAPPROPRIATE WORKPLACE BEHAVIOUR ◇

↳ You miss out on the Bonfire to stay to help Minho with the Maps. Unfortunately, he's a little distracted.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

□ AFTER THE CALM ◇

↳ Joining the group from the scorch, the Gladers take a blow after losing Newt to the Crank Palace. So, you help cheer Minho up.

Book-based fic. Contains suggestive content and spice.

□ BEYOND THE OTHER SIDE ◇

↳ Despite your feelings for one another, you and Minho have decided it's best to stay friends. But, after you nearly lose him to the clutches of the Maze, and he says some choice words to Gally - you decide enough is enough.

Book based fic. Some suggestive themes.

● ALL YOU HAVE ◇

↳ Minho has always had you by his side. He doesn't know how he'd cope without you. Well, now he might have to learn how.

Bro, you die. Rip.

WARMTH IN COLD PLACES ◇ ➤

○ PART 1 | □ PART 2

↳ You are an undercover agent for The Right Arm working behind enemy lines in WCKD's headquarters. Your simple intel gig ends up being the least of your problems as you're suddenly put on the front lines of a rescue mission. It doesn't help that the boy you're pretending to keep prisoner is pretty cute.

□ BEHAVE ◇

↳ You're obsessed with your boyfriend. It's just so hard to keep your hands off of him - even when he's working.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

□ MIRAGE OF THE PAST ◇

↳ Despite never seeing Minho before, you swear you recognise him. That's why you're always staring. Well, and the man is fine. Now in your place of refuge, the Safe Haven provides you with a home, and a new sense of freedom. A bit of flirting can't hurt, right?

Contains suggestive content and spice.

○ IT TAKES TIME  ◇

↳ You were immediately attracted to Minho when you met him in the Scorch. Now, after six months and many losses, you're reunited.

○ STAY CLOSE 《》

↳ Your dream of becoming a Runner is crushed time and time again. But that doesn't stop you from running out into the Maze to help Minho and Alby. Though, that doesn't mean you're the only one willing to risk your life to protect those you care about.

□ FRIENDLY COMPETITION ◇

↳ A friendly game of capture the flag turns heated thanks to yours and Minho's competitive spirit.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

○ SOFT AT HEART ◇

↳ Soft, sweet and caring; you're the mother of the Glade.

○ BLIND EYE ◇

↳ Minho has a crush on you. You're oblivious. He's losing his mind.

○ DECEPTION IN LIBERATION ◇

↳ You're from Group B. Meeting someone in the middle of a prison break is one hell of an introduction.

□ HIGH SCHOOL NOT-SO-SWEET-HEARTS ◇

↳ High school AU. Minho is popular and sporty. You're quiet and smart. It's a stereotypical high-school romance, except Minho is the one tripping over himself for you. And, well, you don't believe him.

Contains suggestive content and spice. Minho won't accept your rejection.

○ HOW TO WINGMAN (POORLY) ☆

↳ Everyone in the Glade is sick of watching you and Minho dance around your feelings for each other. So, they decide to do something about it. Well, they attempt to, at least.

○ DIE FOR YOU ☆

↳ Song fic based off of "Die for You" by The Weekend.

ON YOUR OWN ◇ ➤

○ PART 1 | ○ PART 2 | ○ PART 3

↳ You were put in a Maze all on your own, with nothing but your dog. The isolation is one thing, but what'll happen when you finally escape?

○ SOLIDARITY ◇

↳ Minho is used to being the tough guy; but he doesn't know how to react when he meets someone tougher than him.

○ LIFE BEFORE DROWNING ◇

↳ You're from one of the many alternative Mazes - and yours happened to be full of water. Though, you only realise how weird your Maze was when you reach the Safe Haven, and meet a certain Runner, who feels weirdly familiar.

○ SAVIOR COMPLEX ◇

↳ You're a new Runner, and a disobedient one. So, when you get stung, Minho is left to play saviour. And doctor. Though, as he looks after you, he starts to think you might not be so bad.

○ IN ADVANCE OF GREIF ◇

↳ Getting bitten by a crank is never fun. But, you're from a Maze, so, you'll be fine... right?

□ EXPOSURE ◇

↳ In an attempt to comfort Chuck, you confess an embarrassing secret about something you did back when you were crushing on Minho and before you started dating. Unfortunately, your boyfriend isn't as heavy of a sleeper as you originally thought.

Contains mild suggestive content and spice.

□ SPARKS ◇

↳ Now in the Safe Haven, the sexual tension between you and Minho has turned into a twisted game of restraint. Though, it's hard not to break when you finally catch a glimpse of Minho's lightning scars.

Contains suggestive themes and spice.

□ BEST FEATURE ☆

↳ You can't stop staring at Minho's arms.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

• INDOCTRINATION ☆

↳ The first time you ever met Minho in the WICKED facility, and the corrupt childhood you briefly spent together before things take a wrong turn.

[misswynters]

By the fire light

Jacaerys Velaryon x gn!reader

[warning: fluffiness that’s all!

[synopsis: You and jace spent time in the library, talking about nonsense.

[note | send requests and asks. y’all love my jace fics so here ya go! more

The library in Dragonstone was a haven of serenity, its high shelves brimming with ancient tomes and maps. The crackling fireplace illuminated the room with a warm, inviting glow. The scent of aged parchment and burning logs mingled in the air, creating a cozy atmosphere perfect for a quiet evening.

Jacaerys Velaryon and you were nestled in one corner of the library. Jacaerys had managed to find a comfortable spot on a large, overstuffed armchair, while you were curled up in a soft, velvet armchair across from him. A large table between you held an array of books, scrolls, and a few scattered quills, though both of you seemed more interested in each other than in your studies.

The fire's light danced in Jacaerys’s dark eyes as he looked up from the book he had been pretending to read. His gaze drifted to you, who were intently absorbed in a book of your own. Your brow furrowed in concentration, and a small smile played on your lips as you turned the pages.

“Do you think,” Jacaerys began, breaking the comfortable silence, “that if we had a dragon in this library, it would prefer curling up by the fire or snoozing among the books?”

You glanced up, your eyes meeting his with an amused sparkle. You closed your book with a soft thud and stretched your arms before replying, “Definitely curling up by the fire. Dragons do seem to like warmth and comfort, don’t they?”

Jacaerys grinned, leaning forward slightly. “And what about us? Do you think we’d be like the dragon or the books?”

You raised an eyebrow, playfully challenging him. “Are you saying you’d rather be a dragon?”

Jacaerys chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “I think I’d prefer the dragon’s company. Much more exciting than a pile of dusty old books.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re incorrigible, Jace. Always finding a way to distract me.”

Jacaerys’s eyes softened as he leaned closer. He reached out and gently took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “But isn’t that what you love about me?”

Your heart fluttered at the gentle pressure of his hand. You looked down at your intertwined fingers, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Perhaps. But don’t let it go to your head.”

He grinned, his smile widening. “I’ll try, but no promises. I do enjoy making you smile.”

You sighed contentedly, leaning your head on his shoulder as you both looked at the fire. The warmth of the flames and Jacaerys’s gentle presence created a perfect moment of tranquility. You felt as though nothing else in the world mattered except this quiet, shared moment.

As the fire crackled and popped, Jacaerys began to softly hum a familiar tune, the melody intertwining with the rhythmic crackle of the flames. The gentle sound was soothing, and you closed your eyes, letting the warmth and peace envelop you.

“Jace,” you murmured, “sometimes I think I could stay here forever. Just us and the fire.”

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice a warm murmur in your ear. “I could think of nothing better. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy.”

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I’m glad we have these moments, Jace. They mean more than you know.”

He pulled you a little closer, his arm wrapping around you protectively. “Me too. And I promise, there will be many more.”

The fire continued to dance and crackle, casting a golden glow around the room. In the heart of Dragonstone, surrounded by the quiet presence of the man you loved and the warmth of the fire, everything felt right.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @thornsandtulips @spn-obession @beebeechaos @diannnnsss @thebenjiblackwoodexpress

banner: @cafekitsune

[thursdayinspace]

Okay, so I wrote a sequel to this one that doesn't hurt! I made them all better! Listen, I love making them sad sometimes, but also I want them to be happy all the time and to have everything they want forever and ever. Soooo here's a ficlet for that. Tagging @today-in-fic

He’s not hers. He never will be. That’s not how it works. He’s not hers and she’s not his, and that’s as it should be.

“Hey,” he says, next to her on the bed, his eyes soft in the early evening light. “You’re far away.”

“I’m right here,” she says, and she is. With him in this moment, because he isn’t hers, but he is here.

His kiss is slow and full of promise and she sinks into it with her eyes closed. She’s mapped his body with her hands and navigates by touch, knows her way to all the secret places that she loves, all familiar routes that guide her home. She stakes no claim on this new land, he isn’t her possession. He is her haven in the storm and her shelter, he’s jagged cliffs and burning desert and dark, starless woods that tempt you off the path straight into peril. He’s her October afternoon, soft blankets and candlelight when rain falls heavily outside.

She’s on her back and he’s above her, unmoving for a moment, and her smile is easy and content, she doesn’t need to make it happen. His eyes hold stories in their depths and so many are about them, dark and tragic, hopeful and not yet over. She doesn’t need his words. He offers them so freely and she takes them for the gift they are. Her own seem so inadequate to her ears, but he takes them with wonder in his eyes and affection in his smile and maybe he understands her like she understands him. If anyone ever has, it’s him.

He’s mapped her too and knows her secret places; he doesn’t hurry as he travels her body with his lips. Down and down, he knows where he wants to go, and she’s ready, always ready, waiting for him eagerly. He opens her with his tongue and sighs against her, so content, like he has finally arrived. His mouth is skilled and hungry. He parts her thighs wider to expose her completely, and she fists her hands in his hair as he licks at her eagerly like he’s the one receiving pleasure from this. He’s sworn to her that it’s true.

It feels amazing and she loses track of time. She’s surfing on the waves of arousal that crest higher and higher until her thighs clench and her toes curl and her hips rise off the bed. She comes with a cry, flooding his tongue, and he grips her tighter, presses in closer, and laps at her like a starving man. He doesn’t stop until she pushes his head away weakly, whispering his name, her heart racing.

His cheek is resting on her thigh when the world swims back into focus. He looks very pleased with himself.

“Good?” he asks.

“Oh god.” She laughs. “Do you really have to ask me that?”

The happiness on his face is everything. She doesn’t remember the moment she made it her goal to put it there as often as she could. He’s been smiling a lot more lately.

It’s hard to comprehend sometimes how much she wants him. Hers is a world of science, of facts. This can’t be quantified. Even if there were a scale, it would be useless. If there were rules, they wouldn’t apply. There is no limit and there are no conditions, there’s only him, and he is infinite, he’s everywhere. In everything she sees and feels there is a part of him because their lives have touched and blended, and should they ever separate, a part of him would stay behind. He’s not hers. But he’s a part of her.

She welcomes him back into her arms and he leans in for a kiss. She can taste herself on his tongue. She is a part of him too.

There’s no resistance as he sinks into her. The stretch is welcome and familiar, her body knows him, needs him. His hips move with intent, with purpose, no hesitation, no reason to hold back. And she brings her legs around him and holds him close.

He’s not hers, but he gives himself to her, wholly and completely. He gives himself not as a thing to posses but as a companion, a partner, a home. His heart is in her hands as a loan, and she will keep it safe until he wants it back. His words, his eyes, his touch tell her it’s hers forever, but only time will tell them if that’s true. She’s given him her heart in return. She can’t imagine ever asking for it back.

The presence of him as he moves inside her still overwhelms her. The look on his face, the warmth of his body, the sound of his moans. She’s out of her box, and maybe it was always her who kept the lid closed, maybe it was always him who tried to let her out. The walls are shattered and the universe is rushing in on her, on them. It doesn’t scare her anymore.

Words are on his lips and she doesn’t look away. Her hands are on his back and she feels his muscles working under his skin as he rocks into her hard, over and over. He’s taking what she gives, and she lets him lose himself in her.

“Scully,” he breathes.

She leans up to kiss her own words onto his lips while he searches for his voice. “More,” she whispers, and knows he catches every meaning of the word.

His forehead touches hers as he shifts between her legs before he thrusts in hard, harder than before, and she throws her head back and gasps out her pleasure. “Like this?”

“Yes,” she says, and loses herself in him as he fucks her like he knows her.

Her orgasm is different with him—she holds nothing back. The sounds she makes, the look on her face, the desperate way she claws at him. She cannot hide from him, she has no protection. And she doesn’t care, she doesn’t care. He’s seen her dying, seen her bruised and beaten, held her sobbing in his arms. There are no secrets between them anymore, no shame.

She lets go, his name falling from her lips, a cry of pleasure and a prayer. He’s here, not hers, but with her. And she comes with her whole body, with him deep inside her, and she’s wild, ravenous, her tensing muscles burning as he makes her come alive with pure and perfect bliss.

When he comes inside her she clings to him, rides it out with him, her body still pulsing with the memory of her release.

And she is no longer waiting for the bee to sting.

He raises himself up on his forearms to look at her face, meet her eyes, his cock softening inside her, and at last he finds his voice.

“I love you,” he says, and she doesn’t need to believe. She knows.

“I love you too.”

They don’t need to pretend. Maybe there’ll be an end one day, but the universe is eternal and so are they, a part of each other, and this she does believe: there’s always a way.

He lies next to her and takes her hand, and for now, they’re home.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

A Hint of Lovely Oblivion

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: After a week of sleeping terribly, Frank makes an effort to help you get the rest you deserve.

warnings: Swearing, fluff, caring Frank, this is not medical advice

a/n: I wrote this for my lovely bestie @madschiavelique who wanted some Frankie comfort. As someone who deals with insomnia pretty regularly, this was very cathartic! I hope you all enjoy. A huge thank you to my other bestie @gracethyomen for beta-ing and helping me plan this fic!

w/c: 4.6k

Inhaling deeply, the frigid air of the room made your nose twitch. Sliding as deep as you could into the blanket pile while maintaining your seated position, you bit your lip, shifting the pad of paper on your lap and craning your neck once again. While your duvet provided an excellent shield to lock in heat, your shoulders inevitably poked out whenever you weren’t fully horizontal, leaving your body to sit in a temperature regulation purgatory; your consciousness rumbled uneasily as the hair on the back of your neck refused to flatten, your brain torn between making you shiver or letting you sweat. The position was far from comfortable—but being awake all night made comfort an unattainable goal for you anyways.

It had been days since you’d slept through the night. You were no stranger to insomnia, you’d been cursed with it your entire life, but lately it had dug its malicious claws into your chest with the violence of a starving feral animal. Your bed, which used to be a haven of rest and relaxation, was now a space that you avoided at all costs—the wonderfully soft pillows and warm blankets mocking you as they sat untouched well into the night, fatigue never overtaking you when you needed it to. For the first few nights of your ongoing battle with sleeplessness, you’d crawl under the covers anyway, praying to any deity listening that the weight and heat of the fabric would force your eyelids to close—but it never did.

Sighing as your pencil tip snapped, you closed your eyes, letting your breath rest in your lungs for a moment before exhaling again; apparently your frustration with your own hormone production created a physical pressure on the lead of your pencil. Picking up a fresh one from your nightstand, you did your best to clean up the smear of graphite from the impact of the broken point.

Turning your attention back to the subject of your sketch, you chewed your lip to stifle a smile. Despite the thick curtains your partner had insisted on, a sliver of moonlight illuminated the massive man slumbering beside you, quietly snoring away—completely oblivious to the inspiration he'd given you. The feather-light moon beams shone through his tousled hair, creeping down over his face, which was adorably mashed against his singular pillow. Considering that he'd turned up a handful of hours ago drenched in other people's blood, it was downright ironic to be calling him “adorable” as he slept—but you couldn't shake the giddy feeling that always bubbled up when you saw his face so lax with sleep. His expression was so uncharacteristically peaceful, it never failed to make you happy.

Sure, not sleeping sucked. You'd be plagued with jaw-cracking yawns and mild memory loss in the morning, just like yesterday and the day before that. Having the opportunity to watch Frank sleep soundly, didn't make up for the fact that you'd accidentally put orange juice in your coffee yesterday, but it made the build up of irritation much easier to bear. Which is why you'd decided to memorialize it in your sketchbook.

Studying the map of shadows on Frank's handsome face, you scratched the pencil over the thick paper, the rasping sound soothing the constant buzzing in your brain. Scrunching your nose as you tried to smooth out the sketch in front of you, you nearly jumped out of your skin when he spoke.

“Why're you up, darlin'?” His voice was rough with exhaustion. Noticing your wide eyes and ragged inhale, a large hand slid up to rest on your thigh. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya.”

”It's alright, Frankie. I wasn't paying attention.“ You tried to laugh, but the sound died in your throat.

His hand stroked over your leg as he waited for you to answer his question. Instead, your eyes remained trained on the book across your lap, pencil moving fluidly through the silence. Tracing a thumb over your warm skin, Frank frowned. “Ya didn't answer my question, sweetheart.”

“Hmm?” Your tone was innocent, but the way your eyes remained glued to your work was enough to tell him you had definitely heard the question.

Squeezing your thigh with a yawn, Frank tried not to groan as he dragged himself up to sit next to you. His movement finally captured your attention, your brow furrowing as you set your pencil aside. “What are you doing?”

Giving what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug, Frank slid an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple. ”Sittin' with my girl. That a crime now?“

Smiling despite the guilt flaring in your chest, you shoved at his solid torso feebly. ”Go back to sleep, Frankie. I'm sorry I woke you. I can—“ Shuffling in your seat, you tilted towards the edge of the mattress, fully intending to relocate to a different room so that Frank could go back to bed. Foiling your plan, Frank's arms held fast against your teetering, pulling you flush against his chest.

”Don't you dare.“ He growled, chin resting atop your crown.

”Frank! I didn't even finish my thought,“ You wriggled against his hold, your brain torn between reacting with endearment or annoyance over being imprisoned by his strength. “Let me go, you...you...butthead.” Whining at your own lackluster insult, you buried your face in Frank's neck as he chuckled.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Ain't gotta go for my throat like that.” Frank murmured smugly. You could envision his shit-eating smirk despite it being out of your line of sight.

”Shut up,“ You muttered, a tiny smile gracing your lips against your will. Your body trembled as Frank shook with rumbling laughter. Drawing you into his arms, Frank set your legs over his lap, positioning you towards the windows. The gusting heat from the vent closest to your bed ruffled the fabric covering the panes, the pale glowing rays of moonlight fluttering over your knees as the drapes shifted. It created a mesmerizing dance of light and dark, captivating you.

”Ya gonna tell me how long you've been sittin' here starin' at me or did ya wanna keep pretendin' you were asleep?” In defense of your ruthlessly persistent boyfriend, it has been said that the third time’s the charm. His tone was as delicate as his gruff voice allowed, the muscles of his jaw and throat rippling against your scalp as he spoke.

Eyes falling closed, you focused on the warmth of Frank’s body surrounding you as you willed the tears pricking your eyes to back down. Another unfortunate side effect of sleep deprivation—your emotions started to go haywire over the littlest things.

It wasn’t that you thought Frank would be angry. Well, it wasn’t the biggest anxiety on your mind, at least. It was more the fear of burdening him with your own issues at all hours when you knew a good night’s sleep was practically a miracle for him. The first night at home after a few weeks away always seemed to make it come easier, but other than that Frank rarely rested. The mere thought of forcing him to sit up with you, especially on the one night this week he’d get a full 8 hours, grabbed your guilty conscience by the throat.

Giving a halfhearted shrug, you caved. “Dunno. Slept for a few hours when we went to bed. Then I got up and...” Trailing off, you gestured to the bed in front of you, which was clearly not being used for sleep.

Frank withdrew from the embrace and your pounding heart sank. You set your jaw, waiting for the frustrated scolding…but it never came. Instead, one calloused finger landed underneath your chin, tilting it upwards as he spoke. “You been awake that long?” His eyes shone with concern, boring ferociously into yours.

Nodding miserably, you swallowed the overwhelming shame crawling up your esophagus before speaking. “I’m sorry, Frank. I tried to sleep, but I just couldn’t—“

Cutting you off with a tender kiss, Frank’s hand moved to cup your cheek. “Nothin’ to be sorry about, honey. Ya shoulda woken me up.”

Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you bit your lip, ”You deserve to sleep uninterrupted. I didn't want to be the one to take that away from you.“

Frank chewed the inside of his cheek as he was overrun with waves of adoration and sympathy for you. How he'd managed to end up with such a considerate partner, he'd never know. Especially when he didn't consistently return the gesture.

He'd come home yesterday and practically collapsed into your arms—ignoring how unsteady your balance seemed when you dragged him into the apartment, blaming it on his own weight. You'd patched him up sweetly, as you always did, and Frank hadn't thought twice about the fact that you'd had to leave the room three times to get the gauze, assuming your memory had just been shaken by his battered appearance.

Was he truly so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he hadn't noticed the sunken crescents underneath your eyes? They were so prominent now, stark sepia bruises on your otherwise even skin. It must have been days since you slept properly. Beside himself with worry, his thumb traced the indent under your left eye. ”Shit sweetheart...“

”I'm—“ You started to apologize, but it stuck in your throat when Frank shook his head.

”Hey, none of that. Don't wanna hear it, ok?” You nodded in response to his gentle command, sitting there quietly as he schemed. “Are you tired at all?”

The pitiful shake of your head seemed to make up his mind.

Unwinding from you, he raised his arms above his head in a stretch, moaning as his back popped with the movement. Your face scrunched in disapproval, making him grimace sheepishly. “Sorry, honey. Guess I was stiff from drivin' all day.” Without waiting for your response, he slid out of bed. Your brow furrowed as he strode over to the dresser, pulling a shirt over his rumpled hair.

“Get dressed, darlin'. I have an idea.” He called to you over his shoulder as he rummaged for a clean pair of pants. Sighing, you abandoned the bubble of heat surrounding you in bed and headed for the closet.

Despite your grumbles and evident confusion, the two of you were dressed and on the road before the sun even peeked over the horizon. With one hand settled in yours, Frank kept his gaze trained on the road ahead, trying not to laugh at your exasperated questioning and adorable pout. Dragging you out of the house at this hour might not have been his brightest idea—since he normally tried to remain on your good side—but hey, he’d gotten this far without you chewing his head off.

Frank could hardly be considered a morning person, but you were practically nocturnal. Leaving the house before dawn was probably high up on your list of personal hells, but staying in bed when you couldn’t sleep wasn’t a good idea. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Curtis’s agitated tone.

“For the last time, Frank: staying in bed will make it worse.”

Way back in the day, during his first trip home after going overseas, he’d bugged Curtis relentlessly about his own sleep issues. Maria was tired enough raising a wandering toddler and an imaginative kindergartener, she didn’t need to worry about a restless marine to boot. He’d tried every suggestion under the sun, but sleep still evaded him. Tour after tour, night after night, he’d lay beside his wife in their bed and stare at the ceiling until his alarm went off. After his family died, well…it didn’t exactly get easier to rest.

Despite scouring the internet, a few libraries, and the expanse of Curt’s brain for any possible cures, his sleeplessness persisted. It was a torture he endured for years, and an anguish he wouldn’t wish on anyone but his worst enemies.

Finding out that you also dealt with insomnia was a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, not having to explain his fickle moods and constant absence from the bedroom was a welcomed relief. On the other, seeing the symptoms of sleep deprivation in someone he cared about was an agony worse than an infected bullet wound.

He knew what you were going through all too well, which meant he was determined to try and help. Getting you out of the house was just the first step of his admittedly too-detailed plan.

His lips twitched with a smile as he spotted the building. Turning into the ragged asphalt lot behind the restaurant, he turned his attention to you.

“We’re here, darlin’.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you remained unimpressed. “A diner?”

Letting out a bark of laughter at your obvious disdain for the activity, Frank pointed a finger at you in warning. “Hey, don’t knock it til ya try it, sweetheart.” His exaggerated stern expression broke through your apprehension, your lips turning upwards into a fond smile.

“There’s my pretty girl.” Frank pressed a kiss to your temple, heart swelling as you leaned into him. “If ya wanna go home, just say the word.”

Biting your lip, you glanced out the window at the electric blue awning extending from the glass doors. The yellow lamp lights lining the sidewalk reflected in your wide eyes as you stared. “No, we can go. I, just…can I ask you a question first?”

“Course, honey. Anythin’.”

“Why here?” Your question was soft, but genuine; your curiosity was outweighing the contempt you’d previously shown for his choice of destination.

Running a hand through his hair, he gave a one-armed shrug. “Fuck, well... ya know I’m no stranger to the whole…not sleepin’ thing. And, uh, back in the early days, when it was real bad for me, I’d come here. We– er– Maria and I, we took the kids here a couple of times. Dunno, wanted to remember the good times, I guess, and it became a sort of tradition. Thought it might help you too.”

With a stuttering inhale, you reached for his hand, stroking a finger over his knuckles as you looked up at him shyly. “Thank you for sharing it with me. I didn’t mean to be rude about it, I’m sorry.”

Squeezing your fingers, he could feel heat creeping up his face. “It’s nothin’ sweetheart. Ain’t gotta worry about that.”

Glancing back out the window for a moment, Frank could see the gears turning in your head as you turned back to him with a tiny grin.

“Lead the way?” You asked tentatively.

“For you, sweet girl? Always.” He pressed a kiss to your hand, his stubble scratching at the skin of your fingers.

Frank ushered the two of you inside and into a booth in the back of the diner. The restaurant was lacking in customers, as could be expected given the early hour. While the inky black sky was broken up with dim streetlights outside of the building, the inside was flooded with fluorescent lights--so bright that you had to shield your eyes with a limp hand for a few minutes.

Once your vision adjusted, you had to admit that the energy in the diner was quite nice. The chipped linoleum tiles that lined the floor were a gorgeous cobalt blue. Along the ceiling, large chunks of the roof had been replaced with thick panes of glass, allowing you to watch the clouds float by, the darkness of the night contrasting beautifully with the intense lighting. You and Frank were seated on a worn vinyl booth, the strips of fabric alternating between silver and black. Similar booths wrapped around the space, almost twinkling as you looked at them.

“So,” Frank pushed a mug towards you. “Whaddya think?”

“It's nice.” You murmured, pulling the warm cup closer to yourself. Somehow you'd missed him ordering himself coffee and you a tea in your distracted state.

Frank cocked his head at you, lips turned up in a smug smirk. ”’S that so?“

Smiling into your mug as you took a sip, you retorted. ”Shut up.“

The drink was warm and, thankfully, unsweetened. It's crisp flavor relaxed your shoulders as you sipped, settling your anxious stomach.

“Hope mint is a’right.” Frank spoke quietly, a blush creeping up his face as he studied his own drink.

“You remembered.” You breathed out, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it tightly as your eyes prickled with emotion.

“Course I did.” Frank huffed, draining the rest of his black coffee. You shuddered in distaste and he chuckled, rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand. “You hungry at all?”

Shrugging noncommittally, you worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Frank sighed, but didn't push further on the subject, which you were very grateful for. You'd never explicitly spoken to him about the effect your insomnia had on your eating habits, but--being the observant partner he was--he'd clearly picked up on it anyways. Once your day started with little to no sleep, it was like all of your bodily functions forgot how to...function. Hunger and thirst cues were practically impossible to read, your body and brain battling each other ferociously at every turn. Which, of course, just exhausted you further.

Scrubbing at one eye with the heel of your free hand, you grit your teeth to keep from groaning. Dwelling on how miserable you were going to feel today wouldn't solve anything, it would just worsen your mood.

”Head botherin' ya?“ Frank asked, brow folding in concern as he watched you knead at your forehead.

”No more than usual.“ You cracked a small smile, hoping that didn't sound as sad as you thought it did. “Just...frustrated with myself.”

“I feel ya, sweetheart. Not sleepin' ain't any fun. But I have some ideas, so don't you worry your pretty little head about it, ok?” Frank tangled his fingers with yours, his gaze earnest.

“You get ideas?” You scoffed, grinning when Frank rolled his eyes in return.

“Ya know what? Just for that, I ain't gonna tell ya about 'em.”

“Nooo,” You whined, taking Frank's massive hand in both of yours and pouting at him. ”I was just kidding. Please tell me.“

”Hmm, I dunno. First you insulted the diner, then my intelligence. Seems like you don't want my help, sweetheart.“  Frank withdrew from your grasp, pretending to sulk into his coffee.

Giggling at Frank’s pout, you reassured him. ”No, I do! I do!“

With a sad little shrug, Frank glanced forlornly out the window.

“Please Frankie,” Pleading with your gaze, you tried to keep a straight face.  “You're my only hope.”

Dropping his startlingly believable moping act, Frank cackled. “Ya think you're real clever, don't ya?”

Smirking into your tea, you gulped down the last remnants with a shrug. ”Maybe.“

After your countless apologies for insulting his intellect, Frank finally explained why he'd encouraged���forced–you to leave the house before sunrise. Apparently he'd heard that staying in bed while awake could perpetuate the cycle of sleep deprivation. And, though you were loath to admit it, it seemed to help.

The little excursion definitely lifted your spirits, if nothing else. You were able to admire the sunrise and mess around with Frank without your anxiety skyrocketing because of the city crowds.  It was nice, and you told him such–even at the risk of over-inflating his ego.

His next activity, however, was not as pleasant.

“Are you going to have me carry you around the apartment next?” You groused, hefting the bedframe up so that you could adjust your rapidly loosening grip on the cold metal. This much physical labor on an empty stomach and no sleep was not what you’d had in mind for a relaxing day with Frank. He, however, was insistent on moving the furniture in your room immediately upon your return home. 

“You offerin'?” Frank smirked at you, pretending to set the bed frame down. His eyes glinted with a humor you didn’t share over the current situation. 

“Fuck no.” You muttered, glaring at him until he lifted the majority of the weight once more. Frank laughed deeply. 

“Set it right over here, darlin’. We gotta move your dresser and then we’re all done.”

“You know, if you hated the layout of my room so much, you could’ve told me months ago.” Instead of waiting until I was already reaching my limit. You thought to yourself, not vocalizing that particular vulnerability. 

“And have you put me out on my ass for bein’ so forward? I’d never, sweetheart.” Frank chuckled, adjusting your bed as you collapsed against the mattress with a huff. “I’m teasin’, honey. It’s an old trick Curt told me about. All the rearrangin’ is supposed to help your brain remember how to sleep, or some shit.”

Rubbing at your forehead as the ache that had been plaguing you all day made a sudden resurgence, your limbs instinctively curled into fetal position as a small whimper escaped your lips. 

“It’s helping it remember to bother me is what it’s doing.” You grumbled, gritting your teeth as the pain ebbed and flowed. You knew the more you thought about it, the more it would torture you–but the stabbing sensation was all that your fatigued brain could focus on right now. 

Frank snorted, sitting beside you gingerly and caressing your hunched back with an open palm. “‘M sorry, sweet girl. Let me get ya some meds and you can lie here while I finish movin’ shit around.”

Your body felt like it was aimlessly floating, untethered to the Earth and hurrying to escape the pain so viciously attacking it at the moment. You were so tired. Every blink was a reminder of the heaven that had been ripped from your delicate grasp hours ago because your body couldn’t even function in the way it was designed to. Brow scrunching, you burrowed under the covers with a sigh.

“Ya better not be sleepin’ on me, honey.” Frank murmured as he stepped back into the room. 

“Course not,” You mumbled. “Would never…”

“I know you’re tired, darlin’, but ya gotta stay awake until it’s dark. Naps will just make ya feel worse, trust me.” He trailed a finger down your arm, taking your hand and placing some painkillers into it. Waiting patiently until you begrudgingly dragged yourself into a seated position, Frank smiled softly at you as you popped the pills into your mouth. Holding the glass of water out to you, the Marine squeezed your leg as you drank, tucking his chin over your head as you collapsed wearily into his side.

“The big bad Punisher takes naps? Hard to picture, Frankie.” You teased, your voice morphing into a satisfied hum as he threaded his fingers into your hair. 

Frank scoffed, kissing your crown before returning the jest. “Maybe I should take the vest off before closin’ my eyes next time.” 

You giggled, burying your face into his neck. His warm flesh felt wonderful on your pounding head, soothing the pain behind your eyes with each measured breath. “Do you cuddle your guns like teddy bears?” The question was overtly ridiculous, but Frank loved you enough to entertain it anyway. 

“Course. What else would I do with ‘em?” He asked coyly. 

Looking up at him, the corners of your lips lifted as he pressed a line of gentle kisses down your nose until he reached your lips. 

“If I turn on the TV, are ya gonna pass out on top of me?” He murmured, his stubble scratching your face as he spoke. 

“Wouldn't dream of it, love.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his sturdy jawline before he stood up to grab the remote. 

If someone would’ve told you a year ago that your next boyfriend could make a bad insomnia week feel tolerable, you never would’ve believed them. But here you were—lying on your stomach completely topless as Frank massaged a lightly scented lotion into your back—feeling pretty comfortable with the whole arrangement. 

After you’d failed to stay awake during the movie you’d picked out, Frank had carted you around town on various errands: picking up groceries, going to the bookstore, and even taking a quick walk around the park to feed the ducks, which he knew you loved. Your body still ached, and your mood still waned, but overall, it was a good day. And all the credit belonged to your incredible partner. 

Groaning appreciatively, it felt like you were melting into the mattress as Frank tenderly stretched your taught muscles, unraveling the knots of stress that had been building up all week. 

Chuckling, Frank pressed a tiny kiss to your bare shoulder. “Glad it feels good, sweetheart.” 

“No, it’s awful,” You lied. “You clearly need more practice..” 

Frank snorted, “Noted. How’re ya feelin’?” 

“Tired.” You sighed, rolling over as Frank handed you one of his tees to sleep in. 

“I bet. We’re on the last leg, sweetheart, almost there.” Frank’s large hands eagerly wrapped around you as you nestled into his side. Cupping your face with one palm, the fingers of his other hand threaded into your hair, detangling it carefully and brushing it off of your face. 

Biting your lip in frustration, and to keep from sighing again, you nodded. Attempting an understanding smile, you poked him in the chest. “I know. Thanks for putting up with my cranky self today.”

“Sweetheart, you can be snappy with me as much as ya want if it means you’ll sleep through the night.” Frank smirked, squishing your cheek as your eyes suddenly blurred with tears. 

“I love you.” You whispered, going limp in his hold as he settled against the pillows. 

“I love you too, darlin’. So much.” Resting your foreheads together, he kissed you delicately and your lashes fluttered. 

“Frankie?” You looked up at him with your practiced ‘doe eyes’ expression that he could never resist.

“Yah?” He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Can you read to me?” Batting your lashes, you watched with satisfaction as Frank’s expression softened, your eyes taking in the exact moment he caved to your whims. 

Straightening his posture stoically, he reached over to grab your new book from the nightstand with an exasperated huff. “Oh, I see. This was all a scheme of yours to get me to read to ya? ‘S that it?”

“No…” You giggled, nuzzling into him as he cracked the novel open.

“Sure, sure. You’ll be hearin’ from my lawyer, sweetheart. Think ya owe me compensation.” He winked at you, eyes lingering on your face.

“Honey, before ya drift off, jus’...” Sighing, he stroked a thumb over your cheek. “Just know, if all this doesn’t work, cause it ain’t a cure all, ya know–”

Laying your hand over his, you gave him an encouraging look. He inhaled sharply, thinking about how he wanted to phrase the sentiment. 

“I want you to sleep, darlin’, ya know I do. But if it doesn’t happen tonight, we can always try again, ok?”

Startled by the affection in his tone and his beautiful promise, your face went slack as you nodded. Eyes flitting over your gaze, he nodded curtly once he decided you understood. Returning his attention to the book in his hands, he cleared his throat before beginning to read. His rumbling velvet tone soothed you, your eyes falling closed almost immediately. Here, in the safety of Frank’s arms, surrounded by his beautiful voice and reassured by his adorable promise, you finally felt at peace. Though you knew sleep might continue to evade you, the anxiety you’d felt about your insomnia didn’t feel quite as all-consuming tonight. Whatever happened, Frank would be there. And, for now, that was enough.

Thanks for reading!!

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Okay, this is really nitpicky, but I have to say it. When the Fëanoreans landed in Middle-earth, Celegorm did not lead an army south and relieve the siege of the Falathrim. I’m seen that referenced or mentions in a lot of meta and fics, but it never happened. And there is no indication that Celegorm even met Círdan or any of his people, or was even aware of them prior to Fingolfin’s forces arriving.

What happened was that Morgoth reacted to the Fëanorean forces’ arrival by pulling his army besieging the Falathrim away and sending it north towards Ard-galen. And then, when it was in the north, far from the Falas, attacking the Fëanoreans, Celegorm defeated that army.

Yes, this is minor, and yes, it’s beneficial to the Falathrim that the arrival of the Fëanoreans made Morgoth decide he needed that army more elsewhere, but there is no direct “showing up and rescuing them” moment, and none of the Fëanoreans are anywhere near the Falas during the Battle-under-Stars, and Celegorm has no more to do with the benefit to the Falathrim than anyone else does (though he gets the Fëanorean forces out of a tight spot) and this just seems to be a weirdly common fanon misconception?

Under the cold stars before the rising of the Moon the host of Fëanor went up the long Firth of Drengist that pierced the Echoing Hills of Ered Lómin, and passed thus from the shores into the great land of Hithlum; and they came at length to the long lake of Mithrim, and upon its northern shore made their encampment in the region that bore the same name. But the host of Morgoth, aroused by the tumult of Lammoth and the light of the burning at Losgar, came through the passes of the Ered Wethrin, the Mountains of Shadow, and assailed Fëanor on a sudden, before his camp was full-wrought or put into defence; and there on the grey fields of Mithrim was fought the Second Battle of the Wars of Beleriand. Dagor-nuin-Giliath it is named, the Battle-under-Stars, for the Moon had not yet risen; and it is renowned in song.

The Noldor, outnumbered and taken at unawares, were yet swiftly victorious; for the light of Aman was not yet dimmed in their eyes, and they were strong and swift, and deadly in anger, and their swords were long and terrible. The Orcs fled before them, and they were driven forth from Mithrim with great slaughter, and hunted over the Mountains of Shadow into the great plain of Ard-galen, that lay northward of Dorthonion. There [in Ard-galen] the armies of Morgoth that had passed south into the Vale of Sirion and beleagured [EDIT] Círdan in the Havens of the Falas came up to their aid, and were caught in their ruin. For Celegorm, Fëanor’s son, having news of them, waylaid them with a part of the Elven-host, and coming down out of the hills near Eithel Sirion drove them into the Fen of Serech.

If you will indulge my very bad edit of the Beleriand map:

The orcs coming from across Ard-galen from Angband cross the mountains and attack the Fëanoreans up at Mithrim, in the top. The Fëanoreans drive them back over the mountains into Ard-galen. The orcs that were besieging the Falas, brought up as reinforcements for the other orcs, come up all the way into Ard-galen. Celegorm, attacking from Eithel Sirion (which is north of the Fen of Serech), drives them south into the Fen.

At no point in this are the Fëanoreans - Celegorm or other - anywhere near the Falas. Celegorm's actions have no more impact on the Falas specifically than anyone else's.

[bitethedevil]

A House of Hope (Modern!AU Raphael x Tav): Chapter 2

Read this fic on AO3

Last Chapter / Next Chapter

Fic summary: Tav lives at her mom's place after a tough break-up with her former boyfriend. Rent isn't cheap anywhere, but one day her mom finds her someone online who presents a tempting new living situation that won't break her bank account.

Tav moves into the Haven estate and becomes a part of Raphael's House of Hope project: a project that helps unfortunate souls to get back on their feet. Although, something is not quite right about the house and her fellow tenants. That's not to mention her odd landlord who seems to be hiding something...

AN: Raphael, our dear problematic landlord, is playing it safe in these first couple of chapters, but he will get so fucked up later on. For now we are setting the scene a bit more. NSFT stuff in the next chapter as Haarlep is properly introduced.

Tav yanked on the window to her bedroom. She pulled it closed but the handle would just not go down and let her keep it closed.

She had finally found something wrong with the apartment. She had been expecting toxic mold to hide somewhere behind the furniture, so she supposed that a broken window was really a minor fault.

She gave up on the stubborn window and instead felt the need to explore her new surroundings a little bit. She folded the map of the estate that Raphael had given her and put it in her back pocket.

When she opened the door to the shared entrance, she stepped out into a cloud of smoke. She blew it away and then looked for the source of it. A blonde, middle-aged woman who looked a bit worn out by life stood to the side of the doorway puffing on a cigarette.

“Sorry honey. Didn’t see you there,” the woman said in the hoarse, croaky voice of someone who had smoked their entire life. “You the new one?”

Tav nodded.

“I’m Tav,” she greeted. “Nice to meet you.”

“Linda,” the woman said curtly. “I live next door. Now…”

A beat of silence came as Linda took another long drag from the cigarette between her boney fingers. Tav looked at her for a moment and a smile tugged on her lips from the slight awkwardness of the pause that was just a moment too long.

“I won’t stop you from listening to loud music,” Linda continued after letting out a trail of smoke. “but I’ve got a heart condition, so be considerate of that. No blasting loud music out of nowhere. Turn the volume up gradually, you hear?”

Tav nodded again with a polite smile.

“I’ll remember that.”

She watched Linda’s bright turquoise nails tickled at her nose as she took another deep drag from the cigarette, all while she was watching her skeptically through her matching turquoise eyelids.

Tav’s eyes lingered on the cigarette for a moment. She cleared her throat.

“I know it’s not nice to test the hospitality of my neighbors from the get-go, but could I maybe borrow a cigarette?” Tav asked.

Linda blew out a cloud of smoke and slowly retrieved her pack from the maroon fanny pack around her waist. She opened the lid so she could take one. Tav placed it in her mouth and then looked from Linda’s face to her fanny pack.

“Could I borrow a lighter too?” Tav asked when she made no move to hand her one.

Linda fiddled with her bag at the same slow pace before pulling out a lighter and lighting the cigarette for her.

“Are you capable of smoking it yourself or do you need assistance with that too?” Linda quipped.

Tav grinned and took a drag of the cigarette. The nicotine made her body relax immediately.

She could already tell that she would like Linda. She knew her type because her old neighborhood had been filled with Lindas. She always had a weakness for those no-bullshit, chain-smoking ladies who you could see from the first glance had seen some shit in their life.

They should not be underestimated. They were always brutally honest, and they always had all the gossip.  

Linda looked her up and down and narrowed her eyes in thought.

“Yeah, you’re a pretty one,” Linda mused. “It won’t take long, no…Not long indeed.”

“For what?”

“For the master of the house to try and get in your pants,” Linda answered casually. “If he can get his cock out of Raha for even a second, that is. She’s a nympho. Watch out for that one. She’s one of those bisexuals or what you call them.”

Tav’s eyes widened, and she grinned at the candidness of her words.

“Yeah?” Tav said, a bit lost for words. “Interesting. Raphael a bit too old for me, I’m afraid.”

“He’s too old for Raha too but that doesn’t stop him,” Linda said with a huff and put out her cigarette. “Have you met with the others yet?”

Tav shook her head and took another drag of her cigarette.

“I’ve seen you and someone named John,” she said. “That’s it.”

“John has dementia,” Linda said bluntly. “He doesn’t talk much anymore. You haven’t met Raha and Oscar then. Raha is the nympho, Oscar is…”

She put her finger to her head and made the universal sign for craziness.

“I see,” Tav said. “Are you all close?”

“You’ve got to stay close in this madhouse,” Linda sighed. “We meet in the chapel usually. I’ll take you there.”

They went to the chapel. It was a piece of beautiful architecture, but it was very clear that it had not been used as a chapel for quite some time. Some of the benches had been arranged around tables that had been pulled inside from elsewhere.

Except for the fresco on the ceiling, the stained glass on the windows, and the cross on the wall, the chapel just looked like a well-used room for socializing and shared activities.

The three other residents were already in there.

John that she had met earlier was there, eating a pastry of some sort with shaking hands. Next to him sat a younger man in his thirties, who she guessed was Oscar.

Oscar was nervously biting at his nailbeds. He was brown-haired and looked up at her with the most beautiful and vivid green eyes she had ever seen. His eyes flicked over her.

Next to Oscar sat who could only be Raha: a gorgeous young woman with olive skin, dark hair and even darker eyes. She was playing with Oscar’s hair, which he seemed quite uncomfortable with.

“Everyone, Tav,” Linda said and gestured to her. “Tav, everyone. Come sit with us. Sit next to John. He doesn’t bite.”

Tav sat down and John turned to look at her with slight confusion.

“Maria?” John spoke quietly in a hoarse voice, his eyes lighting up a bit.

Linda gave a sympathetic sigh.

“Maria died, John,” Linda said in a loud voice so that the elderly man could hear her better. “This is a new one. Tav.”

“Tav…” John mumbled before returning his eyes to the pastry in his hands.

“Maria had your apartment before,” Linda explained and lit another cigarette. “Nice girl. She was about your age, which is why John’s confused. Tragic what happened to her… Aneurysm. It can even happen to the young ones.”

Tav noticed how Oscar’s eyes narrowed at that statement for some reason. He looked at Tav. His eyes flicked just above her head for some reason. He stared for a moment. Instinctively, Tav fixed her hair, expecting to find a leaf that had landed on her or something, but there was nothing. Oscar looked her in the eyes again.

“Did you already sign?” Oscar asked quietly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tav answered. “Signed just about an hour ago. I’ll live next to Linda.”

“A pity,” Oscar mumbled in a dark tone.

Linda rolled her eyes and then looked at Tav, as if to tell her not to take him seriously.  

“What do you do, Tav?” Raha asked in an almost sultry tone. “Are you going to work here with us?”

“Uh, no,” she answered. “I already have a job, so… I have lectures to go to, so I can’t really avoid going into town anyway. My workplace isn’t far from where I study.”

Raha smiled and nodded. Her canines looked unnaturally sharp as she smiled. Her eyes trailed down to look at Tav’s cleavage. Tav pulled up the neckline of her shirt a bit and cleared her throat.

“Do you all work here?”

“Yes,” Raha said and reluctantly pulled her eyes away from Tav’s tits. “We all have our duties around here. Oscar fixes things and takes care of the garden, John is an assistant of sorts, Linda cleans…”

“And you?” Tav asked.

Raha’s gave her another toothy smile.

“A bit of this and a bit of that…” she said in a suggestive tone. “Mostly I just keep the master of the house happy.”

“Mhm,” Tav said with a nod and quickly changed the subject. “So…why is it that you all meet out here? I thought I saw a meeting room for the tenants on the map…”

“He doesn’t come here,” Oscar quickly said. “Raphael never comes out here.”

“That’s not to say that we hate the boss,” Linda quickly added and looked at Tav. “But he can be a bit controlling and nitpicky at times. Sometimes it’s nice to have a separation between church and state, so to say. A space where you can get away for a bit.”

“Makes sense, I suppose,” Tav mumbled.

“Speaking of churches,” Linda said and pointed to the corner of the room. “If you are religious there’s a little altar and some candles over there. No one but John really uses it, but he can share.”

Tav looked to where she was pointing and then nodded. There was a table with some candles and a small cross on it. She had never been particularly religious, so it didn’t matter a whole lot to her.

Linda checked the turquoise watch around her wrist.

“I’ve got work duty,” Linda said and took a final drag of her cigarette before putting it out. “Oscar, can’t you take care of the new one? Walk her back to her apartment and keep Raha away from her.”

Raha moved her hand to her heart in mock-offense at her words.

“Don’t be jealous, Lin,” Raha purred. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”

Linda huffed at her before walking out. Tav looked at Oscar and gave him a polite smile. He sighed before getting up from his seat.

“Come on then.”

“Hey about what you said earlier,” Tav said. “What did you mean by that? That it was a pity?”

Oscar was taking her through a huge garden. It was a different route than the one Linda had taken her on. The gardens were just as perfectly kept and beautiful as the rest of the house.

Oscar gave a small shrug.

“I’m not supposed to say.”

“Come on, now,” Tav urged. “Did I make a mistake by signing?”

Oscar looked at her with those green eyes of his. There was a tinge of sadness in his eyes and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter,” he sighed. “There’s no way out now anyway.”

“Please. Give me something. Moving brings enough anxiety in itself. I just want to know what I’m walking into. Is this all a scam? I had a feeling that it was.”

Oscar gave a long, tired sigh and shook his head.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me. Please.”

He considered her for a moment. Their surroundings were beginning to look familiar now, meaning that they couldn’t be far from her apartment.

“Would you believe me if I said that you will never escape from here again?” Oscar said in a hushed tone. “That I’m not as crazy as the others make me out to be…that there is something seriously wrong with this place and…him.”

“Raphael?”

“Yes,” he said in an even quieter tone. “He’s not human, and I mean that in the most literal sense. Something is wrong with this place.”

Tav gave a sympathetic nod. She had dealt with people similar to him before. She had seen people with drug-induced psychoses. Drugs sometimes made her feel a little crazy too. Hallucinations, auditory and visual, and the delusions…

She was trying to determine what kind of crazy Oscar was.

“I see,” she said softly. “What is he then?”

“He’s not from here,” Oscar muttered and then looked at her with growing defeat in his eyes as he watched her expression. “You don’t believe me,” he said with a sad smile. “That’s alright…Just…take care. Your apartment is over there.”

Oscar pointed at her front door and then left before she could say anything. Now she felt terrible. She had not meant to be patronizing, just understanding. She sighed and walked in.

There was a letter stuck to the door of her apartment. She took it off before walking inside. It looked very official with a red wax seal and everything.

She opened it. It was an invitation to have dinner with Raphael.

Tav was led into the grand dining room of the estate by John who had greeted her at the door. The dining room was as lavish as the rest of the house. There were candles lit everywhere, shining their orange light over the gold and red furniture of the room.

The table was already set. It seemed that it was just going to be Raphael and her. Raphael lit up when he saw her. She self-consciously adjusted her clothes.

“I feel severely underdressed,” she said with an embarrassed chuckle. “My things haven’t gotten here yet, so…”

“Nonsense,” Raphael said. “You look fine just how you are. Please, sit.”

She sat down. Raphael took his seat at the head of the table.

“This is simply a little tradition we have here,” Raphael explained. “I find it useful to get to know who lives underneath my roof. Don’t feel nervous, dear. It is not an interrogation. Just dinner.”

“Just dinner,” she repeated with a nod. “Well. I’m an open book.”

Raphael poured a glass of wine for her and then himself.

“Let us get the unpleasantries out of the way, hm?” he said. “I was curious about this former boyfriend of yours. Your mother told me of his unsavory occupation. I trust he won’t be an issue for us?”

“No, no. It’s done and over with. He won’t come here or anything.”

“Good,” Raphael said with a smile. “His presence may prove difficult for one of our tenants. I won’t gossip, but you are not the only one who has had trouble with narcotics.”

“Okay,” Tav said with a tight smile and held up a hand to stop him. “I want to explain myself, because I feel like my mom might have filled your ears with her usual overexaggerated stories. I’m not really a drug addict.”

“No?” Raphael asked and took a bite of his food.

“No, not really,” she continued. “I did drugs, yes, but I wasn’t…’addicted’ to cocaine or to weed or to LSD or whatever. I just needed a little escape from reality every now and again, that’s all. I distanced myself from it when I felt like I was losing control over it. I’m clean now.”

Raphael gave a thoughtful hum and swirled the wine in his glass. He looked her over and a smile tugged on his lips.

“You would not say that a continuous craving for an escape or distractions is an addiction in itself?” Raphael challenged.

She bit the inside of her cheek in slight annoyance with how he pressed the subject. Also, in annoyance with how truthful that statement had described her former problems, but she would never admit that. She forced a small smile.

“I suppose,” she said with a shrug. “What can I say? I get bored easily and I have a hard time dealing with it. That’s all it is.”

She had always felt that way. She needed to be fully engaged in something interesting for her to feel like she was even alive. She needed something to obsess over. When she did drugs, everything was interesting. It was a nice replacement for a while, but at some point, even that became boring.

“Well, I can assure you that you won’t be bored here,” he said with a smile. “What were you trying to escape from, I wonder? Your boyfriend, perhaps?”

She shook her head.

“Just life, I suppose,” she said with a sigh. “No, Luke was fine. Nicest and most understanding boyfriend I have ever had, actually. I told him I couldn’t be with him because he did drugs. The truth is that I couldn’t be with him because I did drugs. He was a bit of a pushover, so telling him not to sell to me when I asked him didn’t really work, unfortunately.”

“Sounds like a painful separation,” he said.

“It was…” she said. “But it’s all over now. The relationship and the drugs. Things will be very different…”

She didn’t understand why she was telling him all of this, but still, she did. She felt as if she constantly needed to explain herself these days. It was as if she had a big brand on her forehead that said ‘addict’ and it was her new life’s purpose to explain that to everyone.

She cleared her throat.

“What about you?” she asked.

Raphael raised an eyebrow.

“What about me?”

“Who are you?” Tav asked and took a bite of her food. “Other than a very charitable landlord, I mean.”

Raphael leaned back in his seat and swirled the wine in his glass with a smirk.

“Your new neighbors haven’t spoken to you about me? I find that difficult to believe.”

“Only very little,” Tav said. “I’m sure your answer is different from theirs, anyway.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he purred. “Though I am still very curious about what they have said so far.”

Tav took a long sip of her wine, which gave her a moment to think about what she could say without getting her fellow tenants into trouble. They all worked for him, after all. She didn’t want to jeopardize anyone’s livelihood or living accommodations by accident.

“Well,” Tav finally said and cleared her throat. “I got the idea that you are pretty close with your tenants. Other than that, it was mostly sort of confusing statements. Oscar believes you’re an alien or something, which wasn’t super helpful information.”

He let out a hearty laugh at that. Tav smiled and laughed along with him.

“He’s a very imaginative boy that one,” he said in an amused tone. “I believe he thinks I’m the devil. That is the usual warning he gives to newcomers.”

“The devil? Wow,” Tav said with a chuckle. “What did you do to earn that title?”

Raphael gave an almost coy shrug and sipped his wine.

“I pride myself on my ability to help people, but it is hard to do so when someone does not want to be helped. I suppose I might have lost my temper once but believe me when I say that it was only because I cared about what happened to our dear Oscar.”

Tav nodded in understanding as he explained.

“He is a very sweet and smart young man…whenever he remembers to take his medicine, that is, which is less and less these days. Though you will have no trouble with him. Even when he is off his medication, he has never been known to be violent or troublesome.”

“I see,” Tav said. “You still haven’t answered my original question though.”

Raphael gave her another shrug.

“It is a difficult question to answer,” he said. “I am many things, and I have my fingers in many pies, as they say. There is no set job description, but I can assure you that the most important work I do, I do here. Nothing is as rewarding as seeing my residents just…blossom.”

He smiled at her. There was something about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. A glint in his eye or something. She wasn’t sure. There was definitely something up with this man, she felt. She brushed it off for now.

Raphael poured her more wine and continued their chat for a while before Tav headed home to sleep her first night in her new home.

It was getting dark outside. Tav was making her bed when she heard an odd noise. She paused her movements for a moment, but it seemed as if the noise disappeared the moment she did so. She shook her head and wrote it down as her being jittery over sleeping someplace new.

She tried closing the troublesome window again. She grabbed the handle and pulled it shut, but it would still not go all the way down. She tried yanking harder on it, but nothing happened. She pulled harder on the handle, but then it would not go down at all.

She sighed and once again gave up.

She pulled her pants off and got under the covers. She gave a small sigh of relief as she lay down on the bed. It felt as if her spine aligned for the first time in months. The mattress was the perfect balance of firm and soft against her back.

She turned off the light. The moment she did, the noise returned.

It seemed to come from outside. It was a low, windy, moaning sound. She didn’t feel like getting up, so she squinted and looked out of the dysfunctional window. She could see on the trees and bushes of the barely lit garden, that there was no wind that was making the noise.

She was too tired and too comfortable to care at that moment. The house was ancient, after all. It was bound to make weird noises every now and again. She brushed it off and closed her eyes.

She quickly drifted into that state between being awake and being asleep. The noise became louder and clearer. She could have sworn that it suddenly sounded like a thousand people wailing and wheezing in despair.

Sleep quickly seemed to swallow her whole regardless.

[seenoversundown]

Come Back For Me : Chapter One

Danny Wagner x Melody (Fem OC)

Warnings: Cute wholesome mom & daughter bonding time, the Kiszka Twins, mentions of death/grieving, ASL is used throughout this fic, and a little reminiscing.

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Melody is out with Iris, thinking that they’re just running some errands. Well, that is until some familiar faces from her past abruptly change the course of her day.

Author's Note: AND WERE BACK, BABY!

I’m excited to give you this story and finally get Danny and Mel on the map for everyone. This is a pretty hefty shift from where I last left you— but I think it’ll be a fun change for all of us 😏🤭

*Disclaimer- this story comes before Charlotte exists. There is an order to these stories, but my brain simply couldn’t behave when writing. If you have questions, my DM’s are always open!*

Older - Gracie Abrams "I went quiet, And you went cold, Guess that happened when we got older."

Nothing has changed. 

Walking through this Hannaford, all I see are the same employees; the store hasn’t been renovated and it feels like I’ve been transported back to high school. Running through the aisles with the boys, hoping not to get kicked out. It’s shocking the things we got away with then. 

Flash forward at least four years later; I’m toting my daughter around to grab a few things that we need for dinner. She’s content in the cart with her little stuffed animal, so I can quickly grab what I need. Thank god, honestly. I’m pretty sure she just enjoys hanging out with me at this point; we’re best friends, in my head at least. She doesn’t really have a choice right now. 

Not having a job means that I can come here in the middle of the day when nobody else is here– not that Maine is that busy in general, to be quite honest. After a few years of living on the outskirts of Boston, everywhere feels like a ghost town to me. Not being stuck in ungodly traffic is nice, though, I’ll take the wins where I can get them these days.

Rolling up to the cashier, the lady smiles at Iris and waves. Don’t do it, I think to myself. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Do you want a sticker?” And you did it.. Okay. 

I tap Iris’s arm lightly, her adorable little face glancing up at me. 

‘Do you want a sticker?’ I sign to her. Her smile was enough, but she nodded quickly with a little ‘mmm’ sound. 

“She would love one,” I tell the cashier, smiling softly at her. Iris reached out to take it from her and signed ‘Thank you’ back to her. I hesitate but then spit out, “Oh, um, she says thank you.”

“Well, she’s very welcome.” 

The rest of the interaction was pretty quiet as she rang us up. I don’t mind when people want to talk to her, but we’re both learning ASL together, so it’s not always easy. 

‘Mom wants coffee,’ I tell her as I buckle her into her car seat. She just giggles back at me while I pretend to fall asleep. I don’t know what I did right in order to have a generally happy child, but I thank god every day for it. She loves being out of the house, which bodes well when you’re the only parent. 

‘Ready?’ I ask her, peeking in the rearview mirror to see her nodding. 

Driving through the Old Port is always weird, knowing these places and how to get there, but not having done so in so long. I missed this. All the brick buildings, the small locally owned stores, and the restaurants, are definitely something I longed for while living in a city. 

It only takes a few minutes to get reasonably close to the coffee shop I’ve been craving. Finding parking can be a pain with all the one-way streets but, thankfully, this time of day isn’t terrible. Packing and unpacking my child is one of my many talents at this point— my arms have never been so toned in my life. 

She knows just to stand close to me while I lock the car. Once the little honk sound happens, I pull her up to spare myself the outrageously slow walk. Before I can even finish situating her, my heart jumps into my throat. 

“Melody?”

I haven’t been back here all that long and somehow haven’t really run into anybody that I would talk to. It was all of two seconds before I turned to see him, but I felt frozen in the moment. I haven’t had to introduce anybody to Iris yet, and I was kind of hoping to avoid it a little longer.  My head whips around, not expecting to see him.  Josh? 

“Oh my god, hi!” Not thinking I would be so excited, I moved a little closer to him, shifting Iris up onto my hip. 

His voice sounds the same when he asks, “How are you, dear?” 

“Oh, I’m okay,” I tell him, shaking my head subtly. Before I can return the question, I see his mouth ready to fire off another question. 

“Who is this?” He gestures to Iris, not getting too close to her yet. I can see her eyeing his hair already, though. 

I move some of her curls to make sure her sweet face is visible before telling him, “Her name’s Iris.” She just beams at him. Tapping her belly and then doing a little wave at him, she takes her turn to wave. 

I know that Josh loves kids; he always has– probably because he just a big kid himself. His eyes light up when she looks at him and he just coos at her little smile. 

“How old is she? Hi, beautiful,” He asks but is immediately distracted by her.  

I laugh as I watch him, “She’s three, but she can’t hear you.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “Deaf?” 

“Practically, she’s in the severe hearing loss category. We don’t know what happened, but she’s a happy little thing regardless.” 

‘Nice to meet you,’ Josh signs slowly to her, making her laugh and lean against my shoulder. 

All the thoughts in my head halted as he signed to her. I blankly stared at him for a second before I asked, “You.. know ASL?” 

“I was friends with one of the Deaf students in a college class, just picked up on it,” he tells me, with a shrug. 

Suddenly, it hits me. There is a whole person attached to him. Quickly looking over to them and spitting out, “I’m sorry– I’m Melody, and you are?”

“Quinn! I didn’t want to interrupt,” they respond sweetly; the smile on them could light up a room. I don’t know how to describe the outfit they’re wearing, but it is very clear to me why them and Josh work together. The two of them just look cute together; I can’t imagine that Quinn wouldn’t be a creative person if they were in a relationship with Josh. 

“Ahh, yes! This is my partner! I was caught off guard by the little angel,” Josh chimed back in, looking over to Quinn with a quiet, “Sorry, bug– I haven’t seen Melody since.. Oh goodness, has it actually been four years?” 

“Probably,” I sigh. “God, that’s so long?” 

He nods, letting out quietly,  “It is, it is. When did you move back?” 

“It’s a long story, but,” I breathe out.  “I just moved in with my dad and this one.” 

I had been living in the Boston area for college with my mother. She moved down there when I found out I was pregnant with Iris to help make sure everything went smoothly. It was wonderful getting that time together; nothing prepares you for being a mom, so having mine with me at the beginning was incredibly helpful. 

She unfortunately had been sick for a while, and I lost her a few months back. It’s hard to think about, but I’m glad she’s not miserable anymore. Living in Boston as a single mom just became unreasonable. Plus, staying in the area was just making me depressed. So, I came home and moved in with my dad. 

He took us in happily– I don’t know who needed it more. The three of us have fun together so I’m sure he’s excited to get some time with Iris, especially now that she’s at a fun age. It’s a different dynamic with him, obviously, but I appreciate the fact that he was so willing to help us out. 

“Well, I’m so sorry it’s not the happiest of reasons, but it’s nice to see your face again,” Josh’s hand landing on my arm as he tells me. 

“It’s okay,” I say, with a slight smile, so Iris can’t pick up on what’s being said. Chuckling as I tell him,  “The worst part is trying to find a fucking job at this point.” 

“Oh!” he basically yelps, tapping my arm a few times. “You know what.. Give my boss a call. I think we’re actually hiring.” Winking at me– that’s suspicious. 

“That would be amazing?” Surprised that he was so quick to help. I hand him my phone, “Just text me the number, and I’ll call in a little bit.” Watching him happily add his number to my phone and text himself quickly. 

“There you go, darling,” he says, handing it back to me.  “I’m sure we have something that you could do, but we will let you get going so Miss Iris doesn’t get too antsy!” 

Carefully pulling him into a side hug, I whisper,  “Thank you so much, really.” 

“Anything to help,” he says, his smile beams at Iris as he reaches out to gently give her hand a little squeeze. 

“Nice meeting you,” I say, smiling at Quinn. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around!”

They excitedly let out, “Yes you too!!”

Both of them waving at Iris and giggling as she tucks her face against me– she is the biggest flirt known to man I swear. She gives them a small wave back before we start our trek to find coffee. Breathing out more air than I expected, a small smile creeps onto my face. Maybe things will turn around a little quicker than I thought. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

We take our time walking to grab some coffee, looking into all the shop windows as she points out things she likes or thinks are funny. It does not take much to make you laugh when you’re three. 

I never thought I would want a child so young, but honestly, she’s probably the best thing that happened to me. Definitely put a lot of things into perspective for me and I feel like I have a better grasp of who I am now.

She makes me laugh all the time, especially because of how friendly she is to everyone. I swear she wants to befriend anyone who holds eye contact for more than a second. Lucky for her, she’s adorable, so people aren’t one to say ‘no’ to that. 

She batted her lashes at the nice barista taking our order but got shy when he waved at her. Grabbing my coffee and her snack from the end of the counter, we found a seat outside. She’s three. I can’t let her eat this cookie inside and watch the nice employees sigh when they see how many crumbs are about to hit the ground. 

‘Good?’ I ask her. 

She just grins up at me, still chewing the bite she took. I’ll take that as a yes. Sipping on my coffee as she picks away at this cookie, just enjoying the sun for a few minutes. 

I pulled my phone out and saw a text sitting there. 

Josh: Hi! Here’s the boss’s number :) I’ll let him know that you’ll be calling so he knows to keep an eye out for you! 

Me: thank you again! 

Once she’s about destroyed the cookie, I hold her out and wiggle her around a few times, making her laugh. I do not need more cookie crumbs getting squished into her car seat. Her laugh could brighten anyone’s day; she truly is such a good kid. 

Walking a different way back to the car so she can have fun looking at new store windows. It’s a lot of her pointing, and me trying to decipher what she’s pointing at. 

Something about the Old Port just makes me feel at home. To be fair, we spent a lot of time in this area, between trying to sneak into bars for local shows and going on dates once Daniel had his license. 

He really was such a good boyfriend back in the day. Always giving me rides, even if I told him it wasn’t a big deal. He would take me to different restaurants out here all the time after he started his first job. Parking in the first spot he could find, just as an excuse to have to walk so we could spend more time together.

It’s hard to believe we were so inseparable for so long, and now, I haven’t said a single word to him in at least four years. But it’s okay, really. Times have changed, and I have more important things to worry about now— like how I desperately hope this kid falls asleep on the drive home. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

 I took the longest way home, and my plan worked. Peeking into my rearview mirror to see her sweet face out cold, thank god. Not that it’s the worst to do things while she’s awake, but when I want to focus on something important, the last thing I need is her trying to get me to play or, even worse, have a meltdown. 

Carefully scooping her up out of the car seat, we manage to make it inside with her still asleep. I slip into her room and tuck her into bed so I can hopefully get this phone call done. As I go to leave, I whisper, “Love you, baby.”

Practically falling into the couch, I stare at the texts from Josh. It would really be so helpful if I could work with him. It is very much Josh to do something like this. He has such a pure heart; too much love in that heart of his. 

“Just call him,” I whisper, in hopes that I can pep talk myself. You need this for Iris. Everything I do at this point is to make sure she gets the life she deserves; becoming a mom has really shifted a lot of my perspective on things.  

Tapping on the number, here goes nothing– I listen to it ring maybe twice before they pick up. 

“Hello?”

I take a shallow breath before saying, “Hi, this is Melody. Josh gave me your number because you may be hiring?” 

“Mel! Yes, he mentioned bumping into you— how are you?” Why does he sound familiar..? Oh– 

“Wait..” I hesitate before asking, “Jake?” 

He just hums back a quiet “Mhmm.”

“Oh god, he must have given me your number by accident,” I say with a sigh, my hand immediately rubbing over my face. 

He sighs along with me, “Did he not tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” 

“Ah, for fucks sake, Josh— he works for me,” he tells me. 

“Oh?” I squeak out, whispering,  “I figured it would end up the other way around, but..doing what?”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” he breathes out.  “I own a bar in the Old Port. He bartends for me.” 

“Oh shit, sorry,” I let out an uncomfortable laugh. “You would own a bar.” Thinking of the handful of parties I’d attended where he was a bit more drunk than I’m sure he’d like to admit. 

“I’m not that wild anymore,” his soft giggle along with me, telling me, “I do absolutely need more help though if you are interested.” 

“I don’t really know what I could do, but I am desperate.” 

Jake has always been the calmer of the two, so it was less shocking when he asked, “Why don’t you swing by tomorrow if you have a chance, and we can figure something out?” 

“Are you sure?” I know I probably sound nervous, but shit, if I can get a job with people I know, that would be amazing. 

He chuckles, “Of course, I’m sure.” 

“Okay,” I breathe out quietly. “I really appreciate it.” 

Jake and I were never particularly close growing up, but I did spend an awful lot of time around him. Well, with all of them, honestly– given that Daniel is best friends with Sam, and Sam always wanted his brothers around, the five of us did a lot together. 

Jake was typically overshadowed by his brothers because he was the quieter one, which makes picturing him owning a bar even harder. But I definitely know the other two very well. I was a little surprised at how pleasant Josh was, even going as far as offering me a potential job. 

I never had issues with Josh, but given the situation with Daniel, I figured he would have been more hesitant. To be fair, it’s been a while since I’ve seen him, and maybe he’s still the same Josh that I knew growing up. God—I hope he is. 

It makes me wonder how Daniel is doing, but not enough to try to reach out to him. We haven’t spoken since the night we broke up, but now that I’m back here, I feel like it’s only a matter of time before I run into him. 

“Just let me know when you’re gonna head over,” Jake’s voice brings me back to the conversation. “I’m always in the bar, so whenever you have time, works for me.” 

It feels like a weight has been taken off my chest. I nod my head, as if he can see it, saying, “Of course. Thank you so much. I will see you tomorrow.” 

The sense of relief, knowing that there’s a chance I’ll have some sort of a job in the next twenty-four hours, is unexplainable. I never thought I would spend time with the Kiszka twins as an adult, but I’ve never been more excited to see them. They were always fun to be around, even if the chaos was a bit overwhelming sometimes.  I just can’t shake the feeling that where there’s a Kiszka, Daniel will probably come around. It’s been years; I think I can handle it, even if he does show up at some point. I’d like to believe it’s been enough time since we spoke that we could be adults about everything. Also, it’s been so long at this point; there’s no chance he could still be upset.. Right? I kind of want to see him eventually, not like that, but we spent so much time together that we could at least be friends now.. maybe. There’s no use in dwelling on it; we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Two

CBFM Masterpost | Masterlist | Playlist

Taglist:

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @imleavingyoufornewyork @mindastreamofcolours-deactivate @dont-go-home-without-me

@literal-dead-leaf @lizzys-sunflower @mackalah

@klarxtr @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @i-love-gvf @takenbythemadness

@ladywhimsymoon @earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf

@gretavanfan @musicspeaks

@jazzyfigz @smoking-jakelane

@demonrat444 @hollyco @josh-iamyour-mama @wrldabomination @broken0mens

@whereiskeara @gvf-luna @lilbitx @gvfstuddedmajesty @katuschka @chloeshell1219

@scoreofinfantryvines @sanguinebats @anythingforjtk

@brokenbellschipbunkersverion @musicislove3389

@allof--mylove @dyslexicchild13

@nicoleghost18 @monkeylaura627 @fleetingjake

@cheersdannyx2

[brineoffire]

Part 2 of The Right Price!

Riled Up

You had none. Zero. Absolutely no idea how you got here. Laswell introduced you again to them man you saved. The Captain. You saved. You babble on about how it was a fluke, how it was absolutely dumb luck but there's no insisting with Price. There's no damn way a rookie could take out four hostiles on his own on luck alone. He knows it and you sure as hell better start focusing on it because you CAN NOT turn down the pay raise.

You'd definitely never planned to be flying with a Captain to join his task force. And you definitely didn't plan to have the shit scared out of you by the huge Lieutenant waiting at the helipad to meet the two of you when you touched down. The guy was huge! He saw a little over eye to eye with Price and damn if you didn't stare at that skull mask a little too long. It wasn't your fault. Tall, dark, and secretive was everyone's thing. That's what you tell yourself when you realize the guy, Ghost, is eyeing you suspiciously.

"Easy there Ghost. New recruit."

"H-howdy, good to meet you sir. Roland Haven, sir." You stumble over your own words as he stands there unamused, your hand out awkwardly before you give up and let it fall to your side. You suck in an embarrassed puff of air through your teeth.

"Don't take it personal, kid." Is all Price gives you as he claps you on the shoulder, pulling you forward with him past Ghost and into the base. You still feel his eyes burning into your spine but you don't let yourself look back again and focus on the direction your pushed in. You get shown to a small barren room, a simple bed, dresser, desk, and chair as Price nods you in.

"This'll be your room from now on lad. Get cozy, proper intros start in thirty." Giving him a nod he heads off as you set your small bag on the bed. You didn't have much with you but you do take a little time to throw your clothes in the dresser and drop your laptop and headphones on the desk. A deep sigh leaves your lips as you look around again and wonder how you got yourself this fucking deep. It doesn't really matter how anymore though, you definitely need the money, and you're not one to turn down a fast track past dealing with other shitty recruits like in your last two teams.

Before long you find yourself heading down the hall following after where Price went to the meeting room. You didn't have anything else to do so heading here ten minutes early was fine by you. Looking around the room you make a note of the layout, wandering around and glancing at maps and a few images of what you can guess is the entirety of the 141. Your skin nearly falls off your bones when you hear a gruff voice call out loud and clear somewhere behind you and you thank your horror game conditioning for keeping you from physically flinching.

"Someone's early ay?" You glance over your shoulder towards the opposite side of the room and notice Ghost once again. He stands by the back wall, arms crossed over his chest, the sockets of the skull baklava on his face look empty with how dark that end of the room is. There's a chill that runs up your spine as you turn to give him a salute, unsure of how to proceed.

"Uh. Yes sir. Wasn't really sure what else ta do." He stares at you as he steps forward, you can see the glint of the lights on his eyes now at least. Makes him look less like death but it means he's that much closer to you. Out of the frying pan you think to yourself. He stares for a long while before nodding and moving to lean on the large rectangular table.

"Right well now you wait with me then." He gestures a hand over to one of the seats opposite him and you hesitate before you get yourself stepping towards it.

"So, uh. Ghost huh? How'd you get that name?" His eyes narrow at you as you sit and you can't help but swallow air.

"Listen 'ere recruit. I ain't in the mood to lead a green'orn around 'ere, an' I sure as shite ain't gun'na let you get anyone on this team killed. You best keep up or you will be lef' behind." Another gulp as his dark eyes bore into yours. You raise your hands in a mock surrender as you nod.

"Understood sir. I ain't looking to ruffle any feathers." He scoffs but doesn't add anything else to his rant so you lower your hands to your lap and sit in a silence so loud you feel like your breath is annoying him. You know better then to piss off a giant you couldn't even hear so you keep any snark behind your lips, rare for you to keep quiet but Ghost didn't know that yet. It's a long ten minutes before you hear footfalls getting closer to the room, time to meet the team.

[trashlama]

FUTURE RISE!LEO X READER

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Heyyyy-oooo it's me your guys favorite friendly pervy neighborhood consumer! Back with some more fics!

Yeaahh

Oh yeah I can totally sense your guys' excitement.

So this idea wasn't mine. I was lurking through the ROTTMNT fandom since recently I was too busy being dragged down the Record of Ragnarok fandom pit. It's like Hetalia all over again.

Anyways— I was lurking and came across one of my favorite creators ( @yanteetle ) that got a request for a fic. And like the idea was too good not to write a one-shot for it.

Like there was already a fic for it out there but, I thought I'd try my hand.

I really enjoyed writing this, I'll probably do another part except with the second idea with young Leo being little brother blocked by Casey Jr. cause Casey knows how Leo is with his future relationship with (y/n).

And maybe another one that has a different take on the first idea. But with a ✨ Age Gap✨. Cause man do I love myself a DILF.

Like brah there is no way you can't tell me future Leo isn't a DILF.

Anyways—

Enjoy the fic!

PICTURE NOT MINE! FOUND IT ON PINTEREST AND FELT LIKE IT WAS PERFECT-O

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Rushing water flooded the ancient channels that you were trudging through. The bottoms of your cargo pants were drenched despite being tucked into the openings of your pleather boots. Frigid rosey digits clung to the insides of the pockets to your cobalt colored coat. A shiver shot down your spine. Not from the chill of the down pour above you but rather, the ghost that didn't seem to want to leave you alone. Even now you were quite sure. Somewhere amongst the ruins of New York's sewer system, he was lurking. Never too far behind but, still too close for comfort.

You've been here for two years and five months in a few days according to the calendar that hung in your shared quarters. However you weren't planning on staying for the anniversary.

A brown satchel that hung from your shoulders carried all that you had for the perceived future until you could wrangle up some more scraps of rations from orphaned establishments on the road.

You weren't going back to the base. You refuse.

Onwards you marched. According to the directions Casey had given you it was just a little further until you reached a small opening that you would need to crawl through to get to the connecting manhole that would lead you straight out of the safe haven of the sewers and into the fry-pan of NYC city boundries. The teen even went as far as described an outpost just a couple miles Northwest towards New Jersey. Having scrambliled together a poorly drawn map of the terrain to gift you on your journey.

You and Casey both knew of the dangers there were trying to escape this place. Mutant or not. Though it didn't mean it was going to stop them from at least trying to free you from your gilded cage.

You had thanked the boy who had felt like a kid brother during your encampment at the base. Both shedding a tear for one another as you departed ways. Wishing the other luck as the world slowly continues to crumble around them. Unsure of the others fate.

The flashback helped to revitalize your will, spurring the need to flee as your pace began to pick up. Heart beat and foot falls mirroring another.

You didn't know how much longer you had before he caught up with you....

Speaking of the Devil.

A random splash not too far off sent you rocketing forward. Feet pounded through the stream of water lapping at your ankles. Unrelenting like the hunter that was behind you.

You didn't even want to look back. You feared if you did your knees would buckle at the very sight of his domineering form lunging for you.

Tokyo Drifting the corner, you spun to the left, a skirt of water splashing your legs once again, in further indirect efforts of creating a swimming pool in your boots.

He was fucking with you. You could tell.

If Leo was really being serious he would've captured you in his hold the moment he originally found you. Most likely had woken up due to the lack of your warm presence next to him in the cot you shared.

If you knew the red eared slider, which you felt at this point you did.

You knew he had been on your tail since the minute you left. Stepping foot outside the main body of the base.

°°°°°°°°°°°

"(Y/n)....? Honey...." Leo groaned half awake. It was the middle of the night and his body had suddenly woken him from the bliss of his dreams.

Tired olive hands searched the sheets for your figure...only to find the lack of it.

Dark eyes flew open.

You. Weren't. Here.

Out of the bed he sprung, eyes stabbed through the dark. Only to find the lack of you and your belongings that had been here when the two of you had gone to bed.

His mind flew into chaos at the realization however, unlike his adolescent self he was able to control his panic. He calmed his ragging breath remembering his father's sage advice to not let his feelings get the better of him. That it was unbecoming for a ninja and a leader.

Honestly Leo should've seen it coming.

He wasn't any genuis-boy Donnie by any means but, didn't mean Leo was a fool.

He had saw the signs for a while now.

Eagerly you'd volunteer for any job if it meant being at odd schedules with him. It didn't matter if it was patrol or scavenging, if it got you away from him, even for a little while, you did it.

When approached about it, you simply claimed that you wanted to be useful for The Resistance. Reassuring Leo that your desire for work came from your feelings of being needed rather than the lumbering turtle's overbearing presence being the cause behind your disappearing acts.

Leo being ever so observant would notice how your close comrades and Casey Jr. would also actively participate in these same runs with you.

Everytime.

Tigers gnawed at his stomach lining and baboons pounded in his chest when he thought about what they could be discussing. What they could be doing.

In the beginning you and Leo had been soooo close.

Since teenagers. He had known you even before you knew him.

He had saved you.

Him.

He was seventeen and feeling free. The Krrang hadn't attacked yet, he still had his arm, and Ralph wasn't dead.

You had been just another girl he came upon on a nightly patrol.

Beforehand he and Raph had gotten into another disagreement. Something stupid about him not being a team player and not listening to his comrades.

Whatever. Leo didn't care.

Leo was his own one-man show— he liked to believe. Although when the going got tough, he knew he had his brothers to fall back on. They relied on one another even if they didn't like to admit it all the time. They were children after all.

Squeaky sneakers and labored breaths filled the illuminated basketball court. Within the fenced primiters was a single girl shooting hoops. And not too badly for the self-proclaimed professional's standards if he did say so himself.

She kept herself grounded but, still agile. Launching the basketball from all the points lines, even the ones that have long since been faded by eroding weather and age. (h/l) (h/c) hair pulled back into a high poney tail that whipped around with her movements.

She was like a basketball ballerina dancing a Lebron James Swan Lake. It was ethereal.

Time passed like rain droplets down car windows. Before he knew it the similarly aged female was packing up getting ready to go. Obvious signs being the (2f/c)towel around her neck and the (f/c) sports jacket she threw on over her fitted tank top.

Alas Leo didn't have the right mojo to go pursue her. Nor the right disguise.

For the next few weeks(at least how long he felt it had been emotionally. He wasn't keeping track.) Leo would return to that same basketball court, eager to see the basketball ballerina again.

Sometimes she was there, sometimes not. When she was it typically was late, at least for human standards. And always alone. Leo felt for her but, didn't particularly mind since that meant there was no one to disturb the skilled performance.

The (y/c) haired girl would show up. Shoot some hoops for a while before walking away into the night.

Her (e/c) eyes always looked absent when she shot her baskets. Emotions didn't voice themselves on her neutral complexion. The only real thing that was direct about her was that she was focused with the task at hand. Which was shooting hoops.

Leo wasn't a hundred percent sure what led her to the rundown court almost every night but, he was grateful for the occurrence.

Until one night he wasn't.

Like the last few nights, the red eared slider teen came to the court to spectate his favorite four pointer dancer. Only to find a lack of her usual performance. Instead sat the empty eroding court.

It was two in the morning and his brothers would start wondering where he is soon.(Not that they weren't already curious where their blue bandana brother was going.) A light sprinkle had started to pick up overhead that pushed the olive turtle to call it night.

Standing up from the ledge the turtle was about to leap from his position but, only froze upon hearing laughter. Down below underneath the iridescent fluorescent lamps was you.

The obvious lack of your usual athletic attire suggested you weren't here to play basketball. Instead of a tank top with a pair of shorts; dark jeans hugged your hips complimented by a (2f/c) Lou Jitsu t-shirt and (f/c) sport jacket.

With said jacket you shielded yourself from the drizzle. The lighting made you look like you were glowing, the uncharacteristic smile on your face added to the image.

What broke the breath-taking view was by whom he assumed were your friends. The two of them ran after you into the court with their own grins plastered on their complexions.

The scene of the trio caused the red eared slider's stomach to bumble with jealousy. He wanted to be down there with you. The sound of your guys' conjoined laughter would make together would simply be the best. Leo didn't have a doubt about it.

If only.

For the next two hours the three humans ran through the city streets. Asphalt turned into water slides as they slid and skid. None of them aware of the mutant turtle following them from the rooftops.

By four, the other two humans who he learned names were Jonathan and Melissa(I know so unique) departed for the night.

(Y/n), as he overheard from your comrades, left to go your own way home.

Leo knew he shouldn't continue being out this late by himself. Especially without telling his brothers where. But, Leo couldn't pass up the chance to see where you lived.

By the time you got back to your apartment complex it was pushing five in the morning. Leo could make out from his spot hidden in the fire escape that you were an only child.

Apparent by the lack of anything in the unit. The only things that pointed towards any form of life were the pictures that hung on the plain beige walls.

Inside the cramped dingy apartment you procured yourself some top ramen before sitting on the old futon in the main room to watch some TV. Switching to a channel that played older movies.

Zapped onto the screen was an old Lou Jitsu film. The sight of the movie excited the red eared slider, hopeful thoughts of having similar interests made the monkey in his rib cage pound harder.

Before Leo knew it you were passed out with the remote in hand with the sun peeking out over the Manhattan bay.

Giving one last look towards you before retreating back into the sewers.

The following weeks passed by and Leo grew to like you more. Even if it's from a distance. Always excited when you appear whether it's on the court or in his dreams.

His heart was always so elated when he watched you perform. And the one time he's late of course some dumb delinquents want to mess up his usual date.

Upon arrival he could tell something was wrong right away. Your (f/c) bag sat on alone on the bench left halfway unzipped and abandoned. The ball you brought with you every time you came to the court was flattened and punctured.

Something was very wrong.

"Back off Creeps!"

It was your voice.

Leo not giving a moment's thought to the possibility of being seen by the public eye. Leapt from his perch down to the court.

Hidden off in the alleyway was you and a pair of petty thieves. One a mutant rooster the other just a normal ass-hat both dressed in stereotypical black attire.

"Shadap! If you'd just given us yer stupid wallet and phone from the start then we would've been gone already!" The rooster barked. His beak set in a displeased frown that matched his human accomplice's equally displeased sner.

Both were armed.

The human with a baseball bat, and the rooster with a small pocket knife.

Observing the scene, Leo quickly determined this would be a rather easy take down as long as he did it right.

"Stop the stallin' and give us yer cash!"

The rooster's feathers acting like fingers reached out for you. Instantly the rooster's right wing received a sudden shave.

"WTF!?" The avian mutant screeched using his left wing to clutch his clipped one to his chest.

Quick to defend from the unforeseen attack the human whipped around to swing his bat; .... only to find an empty space.

"What in the name of..."

"Aaghkk!" Straight in the face you had punched the rooster.

Leo swore his chest grew warmer at the action.

While Leo was temporarily distracted by your fists of fury, the ass-hat had swung at the olive-green turtle. Quickly the red eared slider dodged the attack to only return with his own. Easily slicing the bat into small unusable chunks.

Whilst Leo dealt with the ass-hat you fought the retaliating mutant chicken.

It was a somewhat fair fight considering the difference in DNA and physical capabilities.

You would've won too, had you not underestimated how strong a mutant chicken's punches were.

Next thing you knew you were K.O.ed. Your (H/c) head in a tizzy from bouncing your brain around in your cranium.

The blue bandana wearing turtle was not pleased by this.

The rooster gulped at the obvious displeasure emanating off the red eared slider. Not even having a chance to escape Leo swiftly knocked the chicken out before tying him up with his accomplice.

"Oh (Y/n).... I'm sorry I was late for the performance.." Leo apologized under his tired breath. Adoration gleamed in dark pools as he stared down at the object that plauged his dreams for last month.

Even with three digits per hand the sturdy turtle held you against his plastron securely as he returned you to your apartment.

The cold air whipped around the two of you as he sprinted across rooftops of Manhattan.

He was the happiest turtle alive having you in his arms. He never wanted to let you go.

But he did.

And how Leo missed you so dearly for the years that followed.

Not until he was pushing forty did he find you again.

New recruits weren't too much of an uncommon occurrence. However as leader it was his job to familiarize himself with his team to the best of his ability.

And when it came time to welcome in the greenhorns, there you were.

Despite the years that have added on your complexion you were still that beautiful basketball ballerina he found all those years ago.

His heart swelled.

Leo did his best to protect you better this time.

Even if, it meant keeping you here with him against your wishes.

Very quickly it was known amongst The Resistance how much you meant to the Commander.

Within six months he had you transferred under his supervision despite your skills aligning with General April's or even General Donnie's precincts.

It didn't matter.

Leo wanted you. And that was that.

There was no room to argue when it came to the leader's order.

Within the year, you were sharing quarters with the adult red eared slider and in the following months, his cot.

The few freedoms you found away from Leo were doing patrols or hanging with deceased General Cassandra's son.

Even then the interactions were limited.

It's hard to say no when the world around you is dying and you have no other choice in survival.

Which brings us back to the current present.

Racing like a bat out of hell you fleed your pursuer who was hot on your trail.

The basketball bunny runing from the hunter with a shell.

Oh God please! Please let me make this!

It was right in front of you.

Approximately two turns up ahead laid a small tunnel. It was a tight squeeze even for your stature but, if you could crawl far enough into there before Leo reached you. You'd make it.

You threw yourself into the stone wall. The rough texture scraped your palms but you didn't care. You kept running.

"(Y/n) please come back!" Leo hollered.

His voice was not far behind. He had to be literally on your tail.

This would be a miracle if you made this.

"(Y/n) wait! You can't leave!" Anger could be heard in his deep voice. The same tone he used when displeased with your behavior when socializing amongst your fellow comrades.

There it was!

Right there!

Not even thinking about it—

You dove for the small tunnel. Knees instantly bowed to the floor as you began crawling into the opening. The hole was disgusting but, you didn't mind that as you shuffled your body forwards.

" NO! " Leo growled.

A yelp escaped your throat. Clawing hands clasping around your ankle before attempting pull you back. Despite scraping at the edges of the rusted entrance. All it took was a single tug from the adult red eared slider to dragged you out of the small hideaway. Sadness and anger quick to take over his desperate senses.

"Why!? Why did you try to leave me!?" The mutant demanded.

You didn't know what to do. You were frozen. He caught you. You didn't plan for this. You hadn't really thought—

You really had hoped—

"(Y/n)! Answer me!"

"Is everything I do for you and your kind not enough? Why can't I have you?" Leo cried.

His aged but charming features stared you down with so much hurt. He loves you so much. Too much. So why would you go?

"I've always been there for you (Y/n)... my basketball ballerina...don't I...deserve you?" Leo reasoned. His voice displayed the hurt he felt as he reasoned with you.

Well more like manipulated.

"I love you so much.... I just can't lose you again."

Muscular arms pressed you against his plastron. Underneath it you could hear the bird fluttering in his ribs.

Your mind was running a mile a minute, terrified, flustered, unsure what comes next.

" I love you (y/n)...". Was the last thing your brain registered before feeling a pinch to the bundle of nerves in your neck. Falling limp like a ragdoll in the Commander's arms.

Releasing a sigh the tired adult red eared slider held you in the one-sided embrace for just a little longer. Relishing in the warmth from your body that wasn't accompanied by the small trembles from you.

The hug didn't last long before the mutant readjusted his hold on you so that you laid in his arms. Leo didn't mind doing this every once in awhile when the anniversary of your arrival came up. As long as you don't do it again for another year.

He would have to disperse that support group of yours....

Once back in the safe confinements of Resistance HQ; Leo made a B-line to your guys shared room. There he stripped you of your drenched coat and boots before tucking you back into the shared bed. In your spot next to him.

The blue bandana wearing turtle let out a tired yawn as he closed the door before crawling inside the sheets to lay besides you.

Leo was aware he was being selfish but, he just couldn't live without you. Not again. And certainly not in this cruel world that just wants to take away everything he holds dear.

Dark pools stared down at your resting face. His prosthetic hand lovingly caressed the soft skin of your face. Soothing both you and himself in the process.

Slipping away into the land of rest. Even while dreaming the Resistance Commander held on dearly to you.

Not allowing you the same chance to escape his embrace twice.

¶¶ Creator's Notes¶¶

Thank you for reading!

If you liked this part please enjoy part 2!

[nichknack]

Wandering Witchbreed Masterpost

A Master Post for my Marvel/Xmen Medieval Fantasy AU focusing primarily on the travels of disgraced knight Sir Logan the Wolverine and the Part-time Jester Wade Wilson.

This AU borrows from a variety of sources, including the comics, movies, and cartoons. Basically whatever I think is cool.

Main tag - #wandering witchbreed AU

Premise -

In a universe that is not-quite that featured in the Sonyverse and The MCU, the feared and disgraced knight known as The Wolverine is sentenced to death for the crime of being a witchbreed. Sent to the pyre by Father Robert Kelly of The Holy Order alongside the part-time jester Wade Wilson. Despite both Witchbreed meeting a seemingly painful end, Logan is shocked when the jester also does not die.

This AU is very much a work in progress and open to change, as I also have plans to encorperate the avengers and various spider-men.

AO3/ FICS

Main Cast -

ⓧ Sir Logan: the Wolverine ⓧ Wade Wilson: That Damned Dead Fool

World Building -

ⓧ Witchbreeds

"Witchbreed" is the term used to refer to mutants. Originally used by Neil G*iman in the series Marvel 1602. While Witchbreeds--like their modern day counterparts--are the next step in human evolution, The Holy Order preaches that they are the spawn of demons and witches. Often, human mothers to witchbreed children are accused of either being witches themselves or allowing Mephisto into their hearts.

ⓧ Map

The world of the AU is very much like our own, with a few distinct differences. While the general 'layout' of the globe remains the same names and climates are not exact one-to-ones.

Current locations of importance include:

- Kingdom of Ventra Where the majority of the story takes place. Name comes from a combination of the Latin words "Ventus" and "Terra", which (roughly) translates to "land of Wind", the direct translation of "America". Made up largely of small towns and hamlets surrounding larger cities, often ruled over by a noble lord or lady. The Holy Order has a lot of sway within the kingdom, preaching anti-witchbreed sentiments throughout the land. In many places being a 'witchbreed' is punishable by death--however there are small towns or groups that act as safe havens for Witchbreed, such as the mining town of Acmeore at the Ventra-Kanata boarder.

- Kingdom of Kanata The home kingdom of both Logan and Wade. Name comes from the Huron-Iroquois word meaning 'village' or 'settlement' (believed to be the origin for the spelling of 'Canada'). While The Holy Order does have a foothold within the kingdom, it is not to the same extent as Ventra. Rumours of the Kanatan spymasters using Witchbreeds to do their bidding have been rife for decades.

-The Rossiia Empire The home of Pitor and Illyana Rasputin. Name comes from a 15th century name used to refer to modern day Russia. Unlike Ventra, Rossiia actively recruits Witchbreeds for combat roles in their military. However, this does not mean that they are widely accepted by the people of the empire as a rule. Due to the sheer size of the empire, treatment of and opinions towards witchbreed differ from territory to territory and even town to town.

ⓧ The Feywood

A realm of magical creatures. The home of most of marvel's alien races.

Factions

ⓧ The Knights of Xavier

ⓧ The Holy Order

ⓧ Sentinels

Divider credit to @sister-lucifer

[vodika-vibes]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a fic about CX-2, because he needs some love and maybe a reader or S/O could rescue him from tantiss and take care of him and feed him good food and make sure he’s happy and healing

Idk if he is tech or dogma or anyone we’ve met before cause nameless clones deserve so much love and idk why I feel lowkey emotional, but it made me so sad when he got turned into a kebab, after all the torture and stuff he went through, I just wanted to hug him

Anyways, I hope you have a wonderful day!

In The End

Summary:  It’s been a year, 12 long months, since the last time that you saw CX-2. You went on a date with him, and then he vanished, with only a simple message saying that he had to work and that he’d contact you when he could. And then he fell off the face of the map. And now, almost a year later, and with the able assistance of a group of Wookie Mercenaries, he’s back with you, safely on your ship headed for the haven you’ve arranged beforehand.

Pairing: CX-2 x F!Reader

Word Count: 1359

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So as much as I love Tech and Dogma, I love the idea more that CX-2 is someone else entirely. So, here you have CX-2 being happy with his family. I just needed to take a break from my AU event, I have so many ideas for them, but it's like there's a traffic jam in my brain, I can't get the words to word.

Your knuckles are white as you grip the sleeves of your jacket. You’re very, very stressed. But then, you’ve been stressed for the better part of a year.

Hopefully, now that CX is safe, your stress levels will drop to a more reasonable level. And your medical droid will stop chiding you to practice yoga. That would be nice.

Speaking of said medical droid—

The door to the infirmary slides open and the silver droid hovers out and over to you, “The Patient is awake and aware. There seems to be no lasting damage due to his year-long confinement.”

“So I can see him?” You ask.

“He needs his rest.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

The Droid sighs heavily, a very human reaction you can’t help but notice, but then he nods his head. “You brought him food, I take it.”

“Uh, yeah,” You gesture to the small tray of some of CX’s favorite foods. A pasta dish, with some roasted veggies, and a proper dessert. 

The droid eyes the food critically, and then nods, “That is all acceptable.” He says, “I am returning to my charging dock.” And then, abruptly, he hovers off.

You watch him fly into another room, and then slowly stand and grab the tray of food. Hopefully, he’ll be happy to see you. It’d be heartbreaking if you went through all of this trouble, and he wasn’t happy to see you.

Lightly, you knock on the door and then press the control to allow the door to slide open when you hear an answer from inside. You step into the room, making sure to shut the door behind you before you focus your attention on him.

He looks…well, he doesn’t look well.

Oh, sure, he’s still the handsome man that you fell in love with. Only he’s lost a lot of weight, his abdominal muscles are clearly defined, not protected by the thin layer of fat that gave him a very pleasant squish. He also has bags under his eyes, and you’re pretty sure that there’s a hint of grey in his dark curls.

But he’s still CX.

Your name falls from his lips, he looks astonished to see you, and then he averts his gaze, as if ashamed of something.

And that just won’t do.

You cross the small room and set the tray of food on an open table, and then you reach out for him, stopping just shy of touching him. “I missed you,” You say, your voice soft.

His dark eyes snap to meet yours, and the smallest smile crosses his face. “I missed you more,” CX replies, his voice slightly raspy, and for once, you believe it.

He reaches up and takes your hands in his and pulls your hands to his face, and you eagerly cup his face, content to feel his warm skin against your hands again. You don’t fight him when his arms snake around your waist and he pulls you as close as he can without pulling you onto the bed.

He buries his face against your chest and just breathes.

You gently card your fingers through his curls, your other hand moving from his cheek to wrap around him, holding him as tightly as you can. Just enjoying him.

You lightly drop a kiss on the top of his head, “I thought you were dead,” You murmur against his hair.

He trembles slightly, “I’m sorry. I never meant to disappear.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You should be.”

“Never.”

He pulls back, and looks up at you, “Cyare,” this time his hands come up to cup your face, “You don’t understand, I’ve hurt so many people—”

“It doesn’t matter.” You reply, “Not to me. You didn’t have a choice, CX. I know that.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

You shush him gently, “We’re going somewhere else. Somewhere where the Empire can’t touch you ever again. You have brothers there.”

CX looks baffled for a moment, “Brothers?”

“I think they called themselves Nil…or null?”

He blinks at you, “We’re staying with the Nulls?”

“Yeah, when I was looking for you, I managed to stumble over them. We’ve been offered a place with them. They have a whole settlement for clones and their families.”

“Even clone assassins?”

“All clones,” You reassure, “What do you think?”

He looks uncertain for a moment, “I suppose we can try it out, and see if it works.” CX finally agrees, and then he pulls you in so he’s able to press his face against your chest again, “cyare?”

“Hm?”

“What scent are you wearing?”

“What scent am I—?” You pause and your face flushes, “Oh, right. I’m not, not really.” You gently push him back and lean in to kiss his forehead, “There’s actually something I need to get for you, I left it in my room.”

CX peers at you, “Can it wait?”

“It’s a surprise. And I think, well hope, that you’ll like it.”

CX watches you for a moment, and you smile at him reassuringly, “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He unwraps his arms from around you, “Alright,”

You beam at him and quickly drop a chaste kiss against his lips before you turn and hurry out of the room. You’re vaguely aware of him sitting up in the medical bed and swinging his legs off the edge as the door slides shut behind you.

You walk the short distance to your room, and don’t bother shutting the door behind you. There’s no need, you’ll only be in here for a moment, after all. You walk around your bed (big enough for you and CX to share), and lean over the much smaller bed, a loving smile crossing your face as you look at the face of your sleeping daughter.

CX’s daughter.

He vanished before you even found out that you were pregnant, so hopefully, she’s a good surprise.

You scoop Eli into your arms, adjusting her weight so she’s comfortably nestled against you, and you head out of the room. The scent that CX asked you about was baby powder, which you seem to always smell like since giving birth to Eli.

You step back into the infirmary, and CX opens his mouth to say something but stops when he sees Eli.

“...cyare?”

You sit on the bed next to him, “This is Eli, she looks like you.” You lightly brush a dark curl off your daughter's forehead, “Luckily, can you imagine if she got stuck with my hair color and your skin tone?”

CX doesn’t say anything, you glance at him and notice that he’s staring at Eli, wide-eyed.

“I found out that I was pregnant 2 weeks after you vanished,” You explain, “She’s 5 months old now. Would you like to hold her?”

“Can I?” He asks, his gaze darting to your face, “Am I allowed?”

“She’s your daughter, you silly man. Here.” You pass the baby over to CX, and adjust his arms so that he’s cradling her properly, “She’s a very calm baby, she doesn’t fuss a lot.”

Cx stares at Eli, mesmerized, “Was the pregnancy easy?”

You shrug, “Unimportant, I had plenty of help.”

“Cyare—”

You smile at him adoringly, “Next time, we’ll do it properly.”

He blinks at you, “Next time?”

“Um, well…if you want a next time.” You correct sheepishly.

You watch as he brushes a finger down Eli’s nose, “I’d like there to be a next time.” CX murmurs, “I can’t believe you gave me a baby.”

“Well, you gave her to me first,” You say with a soft laugh, “I’m just returning the favor.”

He glances at you and a genuine smile, the first one since you’ve been reconnected, crosses his face. “We’re going to be okay,”

“Of course we will.” You lightly lay your head on his shoulder, “We’re going to be better than okay, we’re going to be great.”

You feel him press his head against yours, “I love you,” The words are soft as if he’s not sure he has the right to say them, and you smile. 

You turn your head and press a kiss against his bare shoulder, “I love you too, CX.”

[nvthedasmode]

The Dread Wolf's Grave

Notes:

Very short one-shot fic inspired by the quote; 'They asked "do you love her to death?" I said, "speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life.'

Lavellan's name is Harellan, 'Raven' is Varric's nickname for her.

One of Harellan's nervous habits is rolling coins over her knuckles.

Set sometime during early Veilguard, Solas presumed to be at the Lighthouse rather than in a separate prison.

First ever fic! I am not a writer! I am just a lil guy with a lot of feelings!

And I am so sorry I have no idea how to write Solas and Varric lol.

-----

To say that Varric was uncomfortable was an understatement. It was one thing to ask a dwarf to live on the surface, another thing entirely to ask him to make himself at home in the Fade. Unfortunately, he had little say in the matter. The Veilguard had settled themselves within a deep pocket of the Fade; a safe haven from the blighted elven gods now roaming Thedas, and thus far it had proven to be a wise choice.

Their new home was where he emerged from now, and the morning silence (save for Bellara’s excessive snoring) was a welcome indication that everyone was still fast asleep. Or, at least, everyone but the one elusive elf he was looking for. Once he was confident he had not woken anyone up with his heavy dwarven tread, Varric’s footsteps established a leisurely pace as he descended the stygian steps weaving from the gilded door of the Lighthouse to the shifting island below.

The Dread Wolf’s corner of the Fade expanded before him, shimmering masses of Fade-touched rock floating across the enchanted vista as unhindered wisps of magic soared above him like stars against Kirkwall’s night sky. It was brighter, warmer, but still as commanding as the area of the Fade the fear demon had ruled. Some of the silhouetted islands in the distance would have been large enough to cast a city the size of Starkhaven into complete shadow, and some dipped deeper than even the oldest of thaigs. Smaller rocks housed old and ruined walls, frescos of the fabled wolf glowing faintly from the veilfire sconces and causing him to appear equal parts treacherous and feeble.

The littlest cluster of rocks presented an assortment of ancient elven … trees, Varric assumed. Their metal base gave way to a spherical head that sprouted sharp, golden branches. They wove intricate shapes that moved to shelter a gleaming emerald centre, glinting like fire. This group veered closer to the island he now trudged along, glittering vines with blossoms as large as ponds wrapping themselves around the jagged surfaces and reaching out to grasp their neighbour - a complex walkway of mystic bridges that connected the islands, forming an imposing jungle that served as a shrine to what once was.

Far above him, when he thought to look, Varric could have sworn he could make out the slightest shape of an azure city, light refracting across the landscape as if it was pouring through a window in a Chantry cathedral. The sight was often cloaked in a calculated mist, as though his eyes were intruding on an intimate scene between two lovers - but every time he rubbed his eyes to see it clearer, it had vanished.

Varric had learned that the island he had called home for the past few weeks could shift its appearance depending on his old friend’s mood. While the Lighthouse remained the same, often the Veilguard would wake up to see their interim home had a different garden to explore, each one shaped from Solas’ lonely library of memories. Sometimes there would be luscious fields of green, emerald blades swaying to a song none but they could hear as perfectly round drops of dew dissolved into dazzling specs of light. Other times there were seemingly never-ending pathways; rivers of crystal gems creating a map upon the island, waterfalls replacing cities and curious wisps building toy castles from motes of magic. Once, when Varric awoke in the dead of night (or as close as one could get to that, in the Fade), he peered out his window to see Solas strolling Skyhold’s grounds, his tired eyes never leaving the figures of Cole and the Inquisitor as they helped to soothe a dying woman lying by the campfire, clutching a fatal wound. Had Solas reached out to them, Varric did not know, for he had quickly retreated back to his bed to allow his old friend his privacy.

Today, as Varric disembarked the steps, the soles of his worn boots met an impossibly soft sand that shifted gently beneath his weight. Something resembling seashells dotted the ground, their surface gleaming and moving in a way that made them look more like creatures than collectible souvenirs. Out of baseless paranoia more than respect, Varric carefully picked his way across the fabricated beach to the towering figure in the distance.

Solas stood at the end of the beach, the ripples of the ocean creeping along the sand to stop just shy of the tips of his feet, as though magic itself dare not disturb him. He stood tall, gazing across his domain with an expression befitting his name as the manufactured breeze lifted the ends of his coat. Hands clasped habitually behind his back, a single gold coin rolled lazily across his knuckles, causing tiny spurts of reflected light to shower across his long fingers. Any reasonable dwarf back under the surface might have mistook it for magic.

“Good morning, Varric,” came his familiar voice. He spoke in barely more than a murmur despite Varric still being numerous paces away, yet he heard it as though they were standing next to each other.

“And here I thought it was only Rook who had to listen to your voice inside their head, Chuckles,” Varric shouted back, scowling half-heartedly when he saw Solas’ shoulders betray a small laugh.

Solas patiently waited until Varric had made it to his side before speaking again, finally turning his gaze to his friend with a playful smirk on his lips. “Ir abelas, I did not want to deny you the pleasure.”

Varric let out an indignant snort. “I’m starting to understand why so many dwarves stay below the surface.”

“To avoid speaking with me?”

“Now, now, I didn’t say that.”

“You did not need to,” Solas responded curtly. Varric was glad to see the smile still lingering.

At least he hasn’t lost his sense of humour.

The two fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves crashing a few hundred yards ahead of them filling the space. Had he let his mind tune out for a moment, it would not have been unlike the mornings they had spent waking up to the sounds of the Storm Coast - Solas casting a protective barrier over the campfire before the Inquisitor burst into tears at the idea of going a single moment without her tea; Cassandra cursing from the edge of camp as she tried and failed to prove she could in fact approach a nug without scaring it away; Lace and Varric placing bets on how many more days it could rain before they all lost their minds. He wasn’t sure which put his back up more; being surrounded by suffocating grey and rain, slipping on lethal cliffs that never seemed to dry - or being in the Fade.

It was Solas who broke the silence first, as if sensing Varric’s unease. “How are you adjusting?”

Varric shrugged, stalling as he measured his response. It wasn’t in the nature of their relationship to lie to one another (or so I thought, he corrected himself), but he wasn’t about to start tearing apart his friend’s home either.

“I can’t exactly say I’m keen to settle down and start a family here, but I’ll give it to you - it’s impressive.”

“Thank you,” Solas sighed heavily, his eyes focused on something in the distance. “Imagine what it would be like without the Veil.”

“Chuckles, not now.”

“So, when would you propose-”

“I came here to talk to Solas,” Varric said morosely, feeling a pang of regret as Solas’ shoulders stiffened. “Not the Dread Wolf. How about you humour me, just this once? Then I promise we’ll go back to the uncomfortable ‘Child of the Stone’ and ‘Ancient Elven God’ dynamic.”

Solas silently met his eyes then, and the coin in his hands stilled as white knuckles wrapped around it tightly. Just like the painted walls on the islands floating around them, Varric could see his were tall but crumbling. Exhaustion and pain had sunk their bloodied talons into his sharp features, but under the wolf there was still the man. A friend that desperately wanted to get out.

“I’ve never been good at this sort of stuff,” Varric muttered, turning his gaze back toward the ocean, “but you left a lot of people behind. Good people, that missed you.”

“I am not unaware of that, Varric,” Solas replied. Varric could hear the sharpness to the tone, a warning that he should drop the subject immediately.

They both knew he wouldn’t.

“I mean, even Buttercup seemed upset - although she tried her best not to show it. With you gone, Cassandra became her next target for pranks, and we both know pissing off the Seeker is a dangerous choice at best - lethal at worst. I mean, I’m speaking from experience here.”

A quick glance to his right told him Solas was also very pointedly staring out at the ocean again, doing his best to look the picture of disinterest, but the ironclad set of his jaw gave him away. It always had.

“And Ruffles! I thought she would never stop accidentally adding your frilly cakes to the Val Royeaux order list each month. Eventually, me and the Kid-”

“Did you come out here with the intent to torture me, Varric?” Solas snapped, his proud mask melting away to pained anger as he pressed his eyes closed. His nose scrunched as he breathed through it, the waves that stretched before them stuttering and turning a sickly green. “Do you see me as so many of my People do? Do you also think me a heartless monster with no feelings?”

Against his will, Varric’s mind recalled his friend’s broken sobs as she read Sutherland’s reports about the monstrous demon that had plagued Skyhold. Her heart’s deepest regrets ravaging the place they had once called home, the scars of his past forever embedded in the old Inquisition fortress.

“No,” he sighed. “I don’t think that at all, Chuckles.”

Another deep breath from Solas. The water slowly began to settle once more, melting back to a cool, pure cerulean that would have made the painters at Halamshiral turn crimson with embarrassment.

“Then what can I do for you?”

“Remember,” Varric said shortly.

Solas opened his eyes to peer at Varric with confusion, and he could see the purple storm deep within them threatening to pour out and engulf the island they now stood upon.

Silently, Varric nodded to Solas’ hands, still held tightly shut as though he were frightened of dropping whatever was in them. Solas slowly unfurled his fingers, the gold coin nestled innocently in his palm, small dents pressed into his pale skin from clasping it so desperately. The purple storm observed it silently, eyes barely blinking as they stared.

“I saw you playing with it,” Varric said gently, feeling his friend was more a terrified Halla than the dreaded wolf in that moment. “Raven used to do the same thing, when she was nervous. Ruffles had to pry it from her hand when we went to the Winter Palace.”

Solas continued staring at the coin, his expression unreadable. “She gave this to me on the way to the Temple of Mythal,” he said tentatively, as though testing out the words in his mouth. Varric supposed this was the first time he had allowed himself to speak of her in years. “She said she had no need for it any longer, since she had …”

“Since she had your hand to hold,” Varric finished for him. “She said it loud enough for the entire camp to hear.” The memory almost made him smile himself.

A ghost of a smile tried to lift the corners of Solas’ mouth, but it faltered before it even began.

“I remember.”

Varric did smile then. I knew you were still in there, Chuckles.

“Do you still love her?”

There was barely a heartbeat before Solas tore his eyes away from the coin, wrapping his fingers safely around it once more before straightening to his full height and turning to look along the endless sands.

Varric felt the Fade change before he saw it. The sands before them rippled and swirled, floating smoothly into the air to reveal the harsh black rock of the island below. A deep shadow lurked over the area, a stark contrast to the vivid, colourful sky behind it. The sands shifted and formed a familiar image; tall swaths of darkness encircling a small enclave while a suffocating green mist rolled along the floor, catching Varric’s ankles and sending small tendrils up his legs that dissipated as quickly as they appeared. Paltry red spirits skittered around nervously, as if they were constantly running toward - or away from - something.

This was the graveyard from the Fear demon’s lair. Or - more accurately, Varric supposed - Solas’ memory of it.

There was a slight adjustment, however. Only one, solitary gravestone sat in the enclave. The stone it was made from looked sick, brimming with fear and unspoken terrors, its aura almost oppressive.

Varric approached it wordlessly. The words upon it were the same and yet not as he remembered - the elegant, smug carvings of the fear demon were gone, replaced by hurried, almost infantile writing that looked as if it had been carved with a very sharp claw.

‘Solas,’ it read. ‘Dying alone.’

It was only then that Varric saw them. A spectral version of Solas - his friend, Solas - appeared slowly from the darkness, smiling as he offered a gloved hand to the second figure that manifested. Harellan met his smile with her own, eagerly gripping his hand and laughing as he twirled her into his arms. The scarlet spirits, appearing to be calmed by the two newcomers, turned to watch, sweeping closer to the radiant scene that seemed to consume the darkness around it. Varric could hear the faint sound of a band playing from - somewhere? Nowhere? The memory of his friends didn’t seem to care, nor did they notice him or the cruel grave at their feet. They danced and looked at no one but each other, and Varric was irrevocably certain that they would dance forever if the world would let them.

The lonely voice came from behind him then. It was so thick with immeasurable pain that Varric could not bring himself to turn around.

“Speak of her over my grave, Varric,” Solas murmured, “and watch how she brings me back to life."

[olivyh]

You’re Safe Here

A/N: Sorry for the improptu hiatuses! I'm currently struggling with a housing issue so most of my energy has been put into that! It's been a rough couple of weeks since I returned from London so I wrote this little tidbit to cheer me up! I enjoy all the time I get to write, though, and they lift my mood so much so a huge thank you to everyone for all the support even when I'm not active :) Out of all the brothers, Lucifer is the one who I could see most as my own older brother (even though both of mine are nothing like him), and I have found a lot of comfort in that since I started playing the game. Because of that, this fic is probably one of the many brother! luci fics that I'm gonna write

Lucifer's head felt as though it were going to split in two from the migraine that had been building up all day. Meeting after meeting, he could barely find the time to eat a quick snack or drink a sip of water (which he often hesitated to tell his younger pbrothers, knowing all too well they would take the situation into thier own hands and, without meaning to, would make matters much worse than if he'd just handled things on his own). Once he finally found time to settle down at dinner, his hands were shaking so badly from the exhaustion he had to simply pack his meal away (somehow avoiding suspicions from the other residents of the House of Lamentation, minus his sixth youngest brother, who shot him a worried glance from across the table). In his office he was greeted with a stack of paperwork so high he began to question how Barbatos managed to sneak the whole stack in without any of it falling down or alerting Cerberus to the sudden intrustion.

By the time he finished the stack, it was already late into the night. The inky black of the Devildom's night sky seemed to silence the world outside of the sins' safe haven (the darkness being one he believed he could never get used to, no matter how many centuries would pass). It was far too dark, even for the beings who could see in the dark, only broken by purple and golden stars that flickered and shone down upon the residents. If he strained his pointed ears he could make out the vague sounds from the house; faint music from Levi's room, with a shout here or there; Mammon's snoring (which he could hear even from the other side of the house, a feat which he would never not be impressed by); a thud from Beel followed by faint crunches and the rustling of wrappers; another thud followed by a soft groan, likely Belphegor sleepwalking once more and being lifted by his twin to return to their shared room; the only brothers of his who he couldn't hear were Asmodeus and Satan, the former likely getting his 'beauty sleep' and the latter likely silently reading (a hobby which Lucifer appreciated for the lack of noise and the distraction it gave his mischevious younger brother).

The demon sighed, loosening his tie and folding it on his desk, standing and stretching his arms above his head. The bones cracking along his spine and joints seem to relieve some of that tension. He heaves a sigh, finally releasing the breath that had been held prisoner in his lungs from the moment he woke up- an anxiety he was far too used to dealing with. He swallows briefly, the dryness of his mouth and throat making it a near impossible task. Had he had any water that day? He recalled taking a sip or two at dinner, however...

Shrugging off his vest, he folds it over the back of his office chair and begins his trip to the kitchen. Lucifer doesn't bother turning on the lights- even if he couldn't see in the dark, he knew this house better than the back of his own calloused and scarred hand. Each hall and hidden passageway was mapped in the back of his mind at all times. Every dent in the corners and tears in the wallpaper from his brothers and their fights, some of them he hadn't bothered to fix due to the memories they held.

His favorites were the ones which his brothers had made, like the dent in the wall from when Mammon, upon the first decade of the Fall, had decided it would be fun to ram his horns into the wall to see if they would stick (and they did, they all learned, after having to pry the demon out of the heavy stone behind the wallpaper); Or the lipstick stains that Asmo had drunkenly left on the wall around the large mirror that hung in the hallway.;The small dents left in the floorboards from Beel dropping one of his weights, or the chip in the tiles of the bathroom from when Belphie fell and smashed a tile with one of his horns, the outline of a book that Satan threw into the wall after a particularly horrible ending, and the carving of a strange symbol into the florboards from a bored Levi- all of them held stories of his brothers being themselves, not simply the embodyments of the sins.

The one he adored most was one in a storage room in the back of the house, one everyone (aside from Lucifer) hardly visited. Early in their new lives, they had all attempted to repaint a small portion of the house. It was chaotic, yes, and they ended up painting anything but the walls. During the last moments, his brothers all decided to leave their handprints on the wall.

Lucifer wasn't sure if they remembered it was there, but he knew it all too well (and he had placed a spell on it to ensure it's survival, no matter what happened to that portion of the house- neither fire nor flood could wash those handprints away).

He was surely too sentimental for a demon.

A part of him wished to have something of his younger sister on the wall as well, a handprint of her own to markwhat was now their home for the rest of their lives.

Another part considered asking the human who lived with them to add theirs- knowing of their fleeting existence and wanting a permanent reminder of them.

It pained him deeply to think about, the human who he started to see as a younger sibling. Not a replacement for who was gone, no, but an addition. Just as Satan became an addition all those centuries ago, they had wormed themselves into the family as well.

Eight siblings, he pondered most nights, the thought warming the heart he believed to have lost during the war, the heart he had locked away swelling in content (whether of his own accord or due to the nature of his sin, he truthfully did not know). For reasons unbeknownst to him, his hardened persona had softened to them and their bright smile. He knew it would be futile to resist it, so he had slowly started treating them like a sibling. Scolding them and one of his brothers when the had done something stupid, diligently ensuring that they were sae whenever they left the house, saving them a little extra food during dinner so they wouldn't go hungry (even when they insisted they were alright).

How could a creature, so susceptible to the gaping maw of time, make him, the most powerful of all his brothers and feared by most (if not all), a being who could flatten entire civilizations with a snap of his fingers if he so wished, turn into such a fool?

Perhaps he was weakening with time, or he was simply too worn from his brothers to notice how they became a part o fhis family, how they became someone he wanted to protect.

He was so lost in his thoughts that, by the time he'd arrived to the kitchen, Beel was already back for round two of his bedtime snack.

"Beelzebub," Lucifer chides, deep voice breaking the peaceful silence of the night (if the clinking of jars and opening of cabinets had not broken it enough). "We'll barely have enough for breakfast at this rate," His younger brother simpered for a moment, smiling innocently and scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"I know," The redhead mutters. "Sorry." Lucifer feels his eyes on the back of his head as he reaches into the cabinets, grabbing a glass and promptly filling it. "Lucifer?"

"Yes?" The man takes a sip of the chilled water, sighing softly at how different he felt from the simple action alone.

"Can you check in on Mc?" His brother's voice dips softly, as though he was worried they were listening to the conversation. It was unlikely, despite the proximity of their room to the kitchen. "I... their room smelled... salty, like tears."

"Tears?" The older man paused, turning his attention fully to his brother, pointed tips of his ears turned to the sky as they were piqued in concern.

"I tried checking in on them but they told me they were okay..." Beel looks away guiltily, biting the corner of his lip with one of his fangs until it nearly bled. "I asked again but..."

"They told you to leave?" The black-haired man mutters in disbelief. His human... no, their human... would never turn one of the brothers away. The thought formed a lump in his throat as he sat up a little straighter, nodding towards the glutton. "I'll check on them. Thank you," Beel nods, bidding his eldest brother goodnight as he leaves the kitchen.

Lucifer looks down to his water hopelessly, watching his darkened expression swim in the glass. Sighing, he dumps the rest down the drain before grabbing a second glass, filling it and making his way out of the kitchen.

To his dismay, Beelzebub was right. Lucifer could hear faint sniffles from the other side of the door, a sound which brought him physical pain in the center of his chest as his stomach clenches painfully. Swallowing thickly, he raps his knuckles on the back of the door.

"Mc, it's me," He murmurs against the oak door. "May I enter?"

When he gets no response aside from a soft shuffling of fabric from the other side, he allows himself entry. Mc is nothing more than a pile of soft blankets and pillows piled atop their bed. He slowly walks closer to them, placing the water on their desk and taking a seat on the edge of the bed, watching as their form trembles beneath the layers.

"Mc," He whispers, gingerly placing his hand on the blanket atop the pile (It was Belphie's, he recalled. One of the youngest's favorites). "I ask that you remove yourself from there, it cannot be easy to breathe under all of that and I will not allow you to do anything detrimental to your health in such a way." He knew he sounded harsh, the end of his words holding a bite that was reserved for scoldings and sighs of annoyance. He reprimands himself for that fact. Their response is a heartbroken sob, one that send a pang so sharp through his chest that he was certain he had just been struck by one of his heavenly brothers once more. His mind is muddled, memories of comforting his brothers and sister during times like these flashing through his mind.

As though subconsciously, he lifts the edge of the blanket, smiling softly when their tear-streaked face framed by soaked hair that clings to their skin meets his own. Their wide-eyed, anguished expression is nearly enough to make him falter in his steps. In their time in the Devildom, he had forgotton how young the human truly was in compared to them. Despite their magical strength and resilience in the harsh environment they were thrown in, they were still such a small thing in the world of demons and angels and sorcerers, so inexperienced in the cruel world Lucifer and the others had grown accostumed to.

He mentally berated himself for forgetting such a thing, for this moment to be the one to bring him to the reality of their existence. They were quite generous, weren't they? To spend their very few years in the land which most humans would pray they never caught a glimpse of.

Generous, and oh so strong.

He should have guessed that strength came with their moments of vulnerability, should have planned for this moment.

"L-Luci?" Their voice shakes from the heaving of their breaths between hiccups and sobs (how long have they been like this? Lucifer thinks bitterly).

"Yes, it's me, little lamb," He murmurs.

"I-I-" Their voice breaks into more sobs as they bury their face into a plush pillow, alrerady damped from ters from who-knows-how-long-ago. He runs his hand over thier forehead, wiping their tears with his thumb as he hushes them softly. Lucifer feels the harsh retaliation of his sin, clawing away at it's confines at the display tenderness that it despises so much.

"It's alright, you don't have to speak to me if you don't wish to," The demon moves the blanket away from their face, allowing them to catch a quick breath. "However, I will be staying here." They hum an affirmation as their sobbing resumes. "May I hold you?" His soft voice is met with another weak nod as he shifts them into his arms, cradling their head into the crook of his neck as he rocks softly. Their tears seep into his collar as he rubs his free hand along their side.

"Everything is going to be okay, Mc," He mumbles into their hair, pushing back some stray tears once their sorrow is reduced to hiccups and short breaths. "I'm here."

"I-I-I'm so sor-so sorry," They mumble into his collar.

"No need to apologize," He quickly hushes them with another soft swipe of his thumb over their features. "It's not healthy to hold back tears." He understands the irony of his words, he didn't know the last time he has cried in that way, or any way, for that matter. If they hear the strain in his voice, they don't comment on it, only choosing to nestle their face further into his tear-soaked shirt. Their shaking shoulders don't cease, despite their breathing getting slower and more controlled.

He reaches over gingerly, grabbing Belphie's blanket from the top of the stack and wrapping it around their trembling form, resuming the rocking once he's finished.

"Would you like some water?" He asks softly. They shake their head, making the man frown. He was well aware that humans needed to stay hydrated after events such as these, however... he didn't want to push their limits in their fragile state. He makes a mental note to give them the big glass at breakfast in the morning rather than the smaller glass they normally choose. When their sniffles return, adding on to the air of distress around the human he and his brothers adored so, he resumed his rocking.

The demon began to hum a soft song, one that drifted in the slightly chilly air of the bedroom (has it always been this cold?) and rested on the flowers above their bed. It was an old song, even older than what the humans would consider ancient, in a language weaved from light and the prayers from below, a solemn psalm only known to those granted the right to be born in the skies. He was shocked that he'd kept that privilege after the Fall.

Not that any of the brothers still used it, as the undulating sounds and breathless whispers between the words spoke of memories they all would rather not taint with the consequences of their rebellion.

The song, however, was still held deep within their hearts. It was a lullaby for cherubs, for freshly created beings unsure of the roles they were given. A pathway to a silent sleep filled with dreams of purple clouds and golden stars.

Lucifer felt a wave of deja vu, a flash of warmth and sunlight, the shadow of a small angel in his folded arms, her soft snores the harmony to his music.

"When my brothers and I were first created," He murmurs against their forehead, feeling the deep need to express the pressure within his chest. "We would have lots of nights like these," His voice is soft, reminescent of the times they had spent in the sun, flying amongst the clouds and telling each other stories of humans and angels alike until they would all fall asleep (mostly in Lucifer's room, which he didn't mind at all. In fact, he felt better knowing where they all were). "I cared for them just like this, cradled them in the same way I'm doing to you now."

He notices that their breathing had begun to even out, yet had not fallen into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Good, Lucifer thinks.

"They all had their own reasons. It was quite stressful in the Celestial Realm, despite what many humans believe and are told," He recalls the work that was provided for them, the countless days in and out of carefully treading around the rules and guidelines set by their Father. Questions left unanswered out of the fear of sin, every move perfectly calculated and planned so as to not make any slight mistakes.

They were created for one purpose, and it was expected of them to fulfill those perfectly.

"It went the same every time," He sighs. "Levi would be the hardest to coax out of his room, and I was lucky if Mammon spoke one word to me when he got upset," He remembered sitting outside of Leviathan's door for hours on end, sitting cross-legged on the floor and completing his work there until he heard his younger brother's sniffles cease and he would open the door for the older brother; Mammon curled up, refusing to face Lucifer while he wailed into his pillows. Lucifer remembered how hopeless he felt, left only to rub the younger's back until he calmed down enough to fall asleep. "The others would come to me, which I never minded," The memory of Asmodeus, porcelain face tear-streaked and hair messy as he crawled into his brother's bed, weeping into his shoulder as Lucifer would pet his hair down; Beelzebub shyly asking Lucifer for a hug, and, the moment his brother's arms wrapped around the larger man's shoulders, the tears that would begin to flow; Belphegor, who wouldn't say a word as he came into Lucifer's room and curled under the blankets, hugging the eldest's arm to his chest like his life depended on it.

Lilith, who he would rock and hum to until her tears stopped flowing down her rounded face, holding his hand and playing with his fingers as the sun slowly rose above the clouds.

"I do wish you would tell us when you're hurt, or scared," The man sighs. "I- we truly care about you." The words felt like claws as they scrambled up his throat and out of his mouth. His heart seethed at the curse of his sin, at how agonizing expressing the simple fact was. Lucifer would prevail. "Beelzebub asked me to check on you. He was worried."

"I'm sorry," The human whispers, nearly a whine as their jaw quivers and eyebrows knit on their forehead. "I didn't mean to make you both worry."

"I am not telling you these things to make you apologize," He smiles softly, the lines around his face shifting in the candlelight that dimly illuminates the room. "These are simple facts. You are family to us now- even as a human. And even when you pass on-" The phrase gets lodged in his throat, their mortality was such a burdensome thought to all the brothers. He takes a breath, calming his thoughts. "We will still love you, angel or demon."

They stay silent, making Lucifer question their belief in his words. Did they truly not feel the same? All the laughter, all the joy and memories they'd created together- as a family- did they think he thought nothing of them still? Perhaps he should have made it more clear to them (if his brothers hadn't proven so enough times).

"I love you guys too," They whimper, silenced by a sniffle.

"Thank you," The man murmurs into the crown of their head, placing a small kiss on tha spot afterwards. "If there is truly anything wrong, tell us. We'll protect you, always," I'll protect you always, the small voice between his words said (what he couldn't say aloud, damn the curse of his sin).

"Promise?" Their human's voice was small, hopeful as they gazed up at him with wide, watery eyes- red and puffy from the tears. He always thought they looked too sweet, too innocent to be trapped in such a place. Up until recently he'd believed that to be true. He had changed that mindset in the past couple of years, having watched them grow into the powerful sorcerer they were today. However, looking into their eyes at this moment, he felt as though he couldn't be more wrong. Protect them, his mind screamed, perhaps the part that had remained angelic after the Fall.

"I promise." His rocking paused upon hearing their soft snores, peaceful as they nestled deeper into his chest. He casts a soft glance over to the clock, unwilling to let them go just yet and relishing in the warmth they offered (he told himself that humans tend to run warmer than demons, is all, opting to ignore the way his heart swelled at seeing their form curled against his own. "I'll protect you," He whispers, barely a sigh in the night air as he kicks off his shoes and lays down on the matress, pulling them closer to his form and hushing their whimpers and groans as they stir in their sleep.

"You're safe here."

[deadbeatbirdmom]

Good news, my copy of this book arrived today:

Bad news: I don’t have a scanner, so the only pics I have were taken on my phone while struggling to hold the book open. I've attempted to keep light from reflecting off the pages in annoying places.

Although even if I did have a scanner I wouldn't have time to scan everything, this book is almost 350 pages long. Not all of it is art worth scanning, there's a fair amount of screenshots from Volumes 1 to 8 too.

The pics I have managed to take so far are under a read more cut because there's over 20 of them. Mostly Yang because she's my fav, but a fair few of team RWBY as a whole, and some of Blake, and a couple of Raven. And Jaune photobombs a couple of times too. Oh, and how can I forget Zwei? He might steal this post by being too cute.

Art from the covers.

Height charts including heels. It seems Blake’s heels from Volume 7 onwards are an inch shorter than in Volume 4 to 6.

Yang and Jaune modelling Beacon’s uniform.

Zwei concept art, showing him morphing from a lil blob.

Blake concept art, I'm not sure I've seen the bits about what's under her coat before.

Early map of Remnant. Interesting place names, but Signal isn't on Patch but elsewhere, so this isn't a final version. I wouldn't rely on it as a reliable source for writing fic.

Weiss, Blake and Yang concept art, including early versions of their emblems.

Volume 4 to 6 team RWBY.

Volume 7 onwards team RWBY.

Hoverbike chase and backgrounds concept art.

Volume 7 onwards Blake and Yang.

Yang showing off her moves. I can't help but imagine her doing this on that night off dancing with Blake, even if I think she'd look happier.

Blake T posing turnaround.

Blake showing off her moves.

Yang and her fiery punch.

Raven’s bandit camp, excuse my fingers. Oddly enough I think it's using the outline of Yang in her DGAS outfit as a reference for scale inside the tent. She certainly seems to be lacking her right arm below the elbow.

Yang retrieving the Relic of Knowledge.

Raven outside Haven's Vault.

Yang slamming her fists together.

Yang’s turn to T pose.

Blake T posing again.

Raven joining in with T posing.

That's all I've got, apart from a couple of things for separate posts. This one is more than long enough. Let me know if there's anything you're hoping to see from this book, and I'll see if I can share it. You might be better off hoping someone else has the book and a scanner.