#help whats my dredge au tag

[sparky-is-spiders]

Actually I think the Collector SHOULD be Dredgeverse Jon but they’re dead. Too many comments about a stranger whom Jon resembles who lived on the island just nearby… the door is locked but Jon has broken into places far better secured for investigations before.

The house is dilapidated, a walls and furniture damp and rotting, mold visible on some of the walls. The whole place reeks of the sea, of dead and decaying fish. It sort of looks like it had been flooded, even though the outside doesn’t show anywhere near enough water damage for that. They eye won’t tell her what happened here. She thinks maybe it can’t.

There’s little enough for him to find, but the Collector’s book sits on the nightstand, untouched by water. Even without the eye he knows that this is what he was looking for.

They take it with them.

More of my TMA Somewhere Else is Dredge AU. Mostly just random stuff that isn’t enough to make a whole post all on its own. There’s no order to these btw it’s literally just whatever came to mind. (Also Jon uses any/all pronouns because I like projecting)

- Jon takes statements from people in the Dredgeverse. Back before she accepted the Greater Marrow angler job offer these were always encounters with the fears as they slowly sank their teeth into this new world, but once she moved she found that encounters with the fears were much, much rarer. Statements about the sea are still filling, however. Plenty of terror and new information to be found there.

- Jon really likes chatting with the traveling merchant. She’s seen a lot, so it’s a good way for him to learn about this world. He doesn’t want to take a statement from her (he’s sure she has many, but she might be the closest thing he has to a friend here (he doesn’t even know her name) and it would be a massive pain to constantly be going back and fourth between Greater Marrow and the other four regions). Her stories usually just contain enough scraps of information (and sometimes fear) that they can serve as a very light snack.

- Sometimes aberrations are the only things they catch in a day. Sometimes Jon will see dark shapes in the water, to big and malformed to be any of the regular fish native to the area. Sometimes they are out on the water, alone, and something is watching them. He Knows it is not Beholding.

- Jon thinks that the Eye would tell them the quickest route back to where they came from, would tell them exactly how to navigate to avoid monsters and dangerous storms. They know they could leave but they don't think they will. They need to stay. They need to know.

- Jon spends AGES trying to figure out what’s so special about the dark stone pillars. When she realizes that they grant her visions (but only if she’s frightened enough) she decides to visit all of them (at night, when the fog is thick and the fear is strongest).

- After getting a camera from the photographer, Jon tries to get pictures of the monsters. She nearly gets her boat sunk about a hundred times in the process, but finds that the benefits of being able to study them from multiple angles for as long as she wants outweighs the terror and cost of repairs.

- Got a LOT of thoughts about how the collector could play into this tbh. I don’t want to get into specifics for spoiler reasons but I can give some general thoughts:

Dude's just some guy who wanted cursed relics. Met Jon and instantly went: "They look like a magnet for The Horrors" and decided to hire them on the spot.

Dude is Elias. I feel like Elias wouldn't have too much trouble fitting into the role, and I like him well enough to actually want to include him in this au. That being said, I don't know if my grasp of the character is solid enough for me to explore the idea, and I like the idea of Jon, whose only remaining connection is the eldritch fear god they serve, having nobody and nothing in the already lonely and isolating world of Dredge.

It's Dredgeverse Jon. The collector is the Jon who was born here, and whose fascination with the sea and the supernatural drew them to this place, where they're sure all the answers they seek lie waiting, just below the surface of the water. Raises all sorts of questions I don't have answers to about who else has versions of themselves living in the Dredgeverse (if any at all) but also fascinates me.

The collector is any/all of these but also a mouthpiece for the entity that lurks in these waters (whether he knows it or not). I think dipping into these ideas any further would cross into spoiler territory, and while I think knowing the full story can really enhance the experience, I also think it's best played blind the first time. If you have the money to drop on it please do check it out, I promise it's so worth it.

Okay these are all my thoughts (for now). I'm sure I'll have more soon. Jon and Dredge both occupy massive portions of my brain all the time. However for now I need to try and get trophies for every regular fish (and possibly also the abberations, might be fun trying to spend a full in-game year just fishing).

[lightdancingwords]

One Day - Part Three of ?

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character

Series Summary: You were rescued by Dean Winchester a long time ago. Over time, you kept bumping into each other.

Word Count: 2948

Tags/Warnings: Violence, profanity, angst, argument, monsters/supernatural, grief and death

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! This story is AU as it does veer a bit from the history we see in Season 1 of Supernatural. There will be references to episodes and seasons, but it'll change as the chapters come. Enjoy the ride!

Dividers: credit to @talesmaniac89

Chapter Three: The Psychic of Missouri

Dean Winchester tightened his grip on the Impala’s steering wheel as he navigated through Lawrence, Kansas. Beside him, Sam shifted in his seat, restless. Dean was tense—returning to their childhood home dredged up memories he didn’t want to face. Yet, Sam had been persuasive in convincing him to come back due to some uneasy dreams.

Christ. Psychic dreams. His baby brother… was a fucking psychic. What the damn hell. God.

Still, he was happy to have Sam back, if not under ideal circumstances. John went on a hunt and went missing. Though it was more or less clear that John was choosing to avoid his sons, Dean was convinced something was wrong.

Sam had been reluctant to help out at first. That all changed when the same creature that killed their mother also killed Sam’s girlfriend, Jessica. Now both brothers were determined to find out why their father was avoiding them.

What Sam didn’t know was that Dean had been calling his father incessantly, leaving voicemail galore. Worst of all, John wasn’t responding. It was killing Dean that his father essentially abandoned them… again.

“Look, man, I don’t know what you’re expecting at this house,” Dean said to Sam, trying to convince his brother to drop this nonsense. He really, really didn’t want to see that house again.

“I know, Dean,” Sam said, fighting to explain it in a way Dean would understand or even just accept. “It’s just… we have to be there. Something’s wrong.”

Dean sighed, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel. “All right, fine.”

The Impala’s engine growled as Dean pulled up outside the house he once called home. He had a few small memories that he remembered outside of watching his mother burn on the ceiling. Some of them were actually nice, like the apple pies his mother made him. Her warm hugs. The way she’d touch his cheek.

His heart ached at remembering Mary. It’d been 22 years and the grief never left him. All the beer, all the women, all the hunts… it’d never leave him.

“All right… let’s go.”

Learning that Sam had been right about something off in their old house, learning from Sari that something was haunting the house, had not been on Dean’s bingo list. More, discovering that John consulted psychics galore to track down the who and what that killed Mary was another shock.

Just what the hell was John keeping from them? Except Dean knew he wouldn’t be able to confront his father, not really. That always had been Sam’s thing… and God, Dean envied him that strength.

Missouri… was an interesting woman. She clued in on Sam’s grief, scolded him for mentally cussing her out, and even threatened him with a spoon if he put his boots on her coffee table. Christ, he’d never been so spooked before and he faced a goddamned Wendigo.

Then the other surprise hit him in the face—at least, not literally this time.

“You can come in now,” Missouri said to someone just over her shoulder.

Sam and Dean looked up, confused. Then Dean’s eyes widened. He was about to say something when Missouri scolded him again.

“What did I say about swearing?”

Dean stopped, swallowed hard, and sat up straight. “Y/N… what are you doing here?”

Exasperated, Missouri rolled her eyes at Dean. “Lord help me, I don’t know where you get your manners. She’s here because she needed my help, same as you.”

Sam glanced back and forth between Y/N and Dean, confused. “I’m sorry, could someone fill me in?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Dean, turned to Sam and offered her hand. “I’m Y/N. I met Dean a couple of years back. He helped save me from a vampire. Then a few months ago we bumped into each other again.”

Sam shook her hand. “So you’re another a hunter?”

“Yes—”

“No,” Dean said firmly. “She’s just playing at one.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at Dean. “That’s not what you said at the asylum.”

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind. You’re not a hunter. You should go back, go home, pretend none of this stuff happened,” Dean said, irritated.

Sam scoffed. “Yeah, right. Like we could forget everything that happened to us?”

Y/N nodded at Sam. That made Dean even more grumpy. “That’s not the point, Sam. Y/N’s only been in this shit for a couple of years. We’ve been in it our whole lives! She remembers what it’s like to be normal!”

The penny dropped for Y/N. Up until that moment, she hadn’t been sure what Sam was in this equation. Now she knew: he was Dean’s brother.

“So you lied to me,” Y/N said angrily. “You said you understood why I couldn’t go back.”

Dean scowled. Before he could say anything more, Missouri spoke up. “That’s enough out of you, all of you. We have business to attend to.”

Sam nodded. “Our old house. There’s something there. Something inside.”

Dean huffed. He was pissed. He was pissed and he was scared and God, he hated it. Sam was becoming increasingly weird. His father was avoiding them. And seeing that damned house….

Y/N glanced at him and something softened in her gaze. He wondered what she knew. He certainly didn’t tell her anything, but what if Missouri did? God…

Sam was relaying to Missouri what he sensed and dreamed. The older woman nodded and declared, “Let’s go see that house.”

“What about Y/N?” Dean asked, testy. He was so not having this.

“She can come with and don’t you sass me boy,” Missouri said, cutting off his protest. “This is a good learning experience for her. Plus, I think it’d help her solve her problem.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He was in Hell. Sam nudged him and pulled him close so they could talk quietly.

“Hey… what’s going on? What’s the big deal about Y/N?” Sam studied his older brother, the way he was clenching his jaw, evasive with his eyes.

Dean’s nostrils flared as he fought to keep his temper. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea she’s coming with. She’s practically a kid, Sam.”

Sam glanced over at Y/N, saw the way she carried herself. She was straight-backed and lean, with the measured movements of someone who learned to husband her energy.

“Is it true?” the younger Winchester asked.

Irritated, Dean scowled up at Sam. “Is what true?”

“That you accepted her being a hunter.”

More scowling. “Shut up, Sam. Let’s go.”

Seeing the Winchester house again so soon after their first visit must’ve been weird for Jenny, the new owner of the house. Missouri did everything she could to reassure the young mother, but Dean could tell Jenny was freaked.

Y/N on the other… While Missouri did her psychic crap, the young female hunter stayed quiet, looked around, even chatted up with Jenny.

So why the hell was Dean so mad? Well, that was unfortunately easy for him to understand. It was the house. It was seeing memories, ghosts of Christmas past.

He remembered his mother being upset with John on the phone and came over to reassure her that it would be okay. He’d hugged her, tried to take his mother’s heartache.

He’d been a goddamned child. He shouldn’t have had to do that, but he felt so responsible for them all.

Seeing Y/N in the midst of it was like a knife in the gut. He didn’t want her embroiled in any of this shit. Instead, she was, and he wanted to tear his hair out over it.

“You gonna tell me why you went to Missouri?” Dean asked, his voice low and rumbly. Y/N looked up and gave him a flat look. God, it should be a crime to look that hot while being coldly furious with him.

“I needed a psychic,” she said at last. “Missouri’s come up often when I looked into them. And she definitely nailed the issues I had before I even said them out loud.”

His smile was fleeting. Given how Missouri nailed Sam with the statement about his loss and got to Dean without him ever saying a word, he was inclined to believe Missouri was the one to talk to regarding the house’s history.

Missouri came back downstairs briskly. “There’s definitely some bad energy here. We got work to do.”

“What? Her too?” Dean asked in open exasperation regarding Y/N’s involvement.

He saw Y/N’s spine stuffed and was pleased at seeing her temper. Good. Maybe they could fight it out and it’ll turn into a make out session.

Missouri bopped him upside the head. “Act like a gentleman,” she said sharply. “I know your daddy didn’t teach you to be this rude.”

Dean cringed, rubbed his head and stared at Missouri. “I wasn’t doing anything!”

“But you were thinking it,” Missouri retorted. “Don’t tell me you didn’t think of that girl that way.”

He scowled at Missouri. Sam actually smirked as he came back to them. He liked seeing Missouri put Dean in his place, just a little bit. Dean scowled.

God. After this, he was going to want to drown a bit in beer and breasts. Maybe Y/N’s breasts. Then Missouri glared at him and he grabbed his libido and shoved it back into a box. He seemed to have to do that a lot when Y/N was around.

Y/N’s gaze shifted between Dean and Missouri and smirked. “Do I want to know?”

“I’d say something but she might smack me again,” Dean grumbled. He wanted to flirt. Something to distract himself. However, Missouri was putting a kibosh on all his favorite activities and distractions.

Her smile widened and her eyes sparkled. Y/N really had gorgeous eyes. He’d forgotten. “You’re scared of her. More scared than you were with the vampire or the ghost.”

“I’m not scared,” he protested.

“Uh huh.”

“I’m not!”

Y/N was laughing as she walked away. Damn, she had a nice ass.

It didn’t take much to convince Jenny to get her to take the kids out for a movie and give them time to cleanse the house of the stubborn poltergeist.

Seeing Y/N walk around his childhood home gave Dean a funny feeling, like his chest was being compressed. He didn’t like it. He honestly did not do well dealing with feelings. Like John, he just sat on it until he blew up.

He couldn’t do that this time. He couldn’t blow up, he couldn’t sit on it. It festered and gnawed at him. God, he couldn’t get out of the house fast enough.

Y/N kept looking at him and he twitched under her inscrutable gaze.

“What?!” he asked, snapping irritably.

Y/N shook her head and that made it worse.

“Then quit looking at me like that,” he said, grumpy as Missouri mixed whatever the hell it was they needed to cast the poltergeist out.

“Dean,” Sam said, trying to deflect and calm his brother.

“It’s all right, Sam,” Y/N said gently. She looked back at Dean. “It’s about your mom, isn’t it?”

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. “How the hell did you know that? Did Sam tell you?” God, if his baby brother blabbed, Dean was gonna punch him one.

Missouri rolled her eyes at the toxic display of machismo and kept on working. Her mix was almost ready.

“God, no,” Y/N said with exasperation in every breath. “I read up on it. I…” She glanced over at Missouri, then back at the brothers. “I’ve been doing a lot of research.”

“Great. Another book nerd.” She really was like a female Sam.

Y/N was undeterred. “Things about poltergeists and ghosts and how they connect to what’s left behind. Which meant reading about traumatic deaths, murders… unusual deaths.”

Comprehension dawned in Sam’s eyes. “And you found out about our mom.”

“Yes. I knew this was your home,” Y/N said gently.

Dean’s jaw clenched tightly.

“I went to Missouri for more information about spirits in particular. I guess I wanted to understand the afterlife or at least life after death,” Y/N said carefully.

Missouri looked up at Y/N and there was a look that read she knew more about Y/N’s motives than she was admitting. Dean saw it, knew it’d take a stallion or something to drag it out of the psychic.

“The Winchester fire and… what happened to your mother… came up in my reading,” Y/N said finally.

“So what do you think?” Sam asked curiously, like an eager puppy.

Y/N considered it. “It’s not your mom,” she said at last. “I think there’s another reason why there’s a poltergeist here. Maybe it was drawn to the violent death, drove out all the previous owners and tenants.”

Missouri quirked a brow. “Are you sure you’re not psychic too?”

“No offense, Missouri,” Y/N said with a weak smile. “I really hope not.”

“Same. You don’t wanna know what’s in that boy’s mind,” Missouri said with a nod to Dean.

Dean bristled, but kept quiet. Sam nudged him as if to convince him to talk, and Dean shoved him back hard. Sam laughed.

Y/N gave Dean a thoughtful look and somehow he felt naked in that moment. Not a good naked; the scary kind where he was 4 years old again and watching his mother die.

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Let’s go get to work,” he said roughly.

They thought it was over. Sam knew better. Despite Dean’s misgivings, the brothers—and Y/N—were camped out in the Impala. The initial cleansing worked, Dean insisted. Sam believed otherwise.

Y/N offered to come with because she was curious about them. Dean was super-irritated. Bad enough he had to help wrangle his brother free from a cord choking him, smash holes in the wall and dump Missouri’s poltergeist dust into the wall. Oh no, they had to come back and keep a watch out because Sam had a ‘feeling’.

So much beer after this.

Then they saw it: Jenny pounding on the upstairs window. The trio spilled out of the Impala running for the house. Dean had to kick in the door, barked an order for Sam and Y/N to grab Sari and Richie while he grabbed Jenny.

Dean got Jenny out quickly, only to realize Sam still hadn’t come back down. He was about to run up when Y/N came out with both kids.

“Where’s Sam?” he demanded from Y/N.

“He handed me Richie and told me to run,” Y/N said, breathless. “Dean, something has him!”

Dean wasted no more time. His father’s voice echoed in his head, ordering him to take Sam and run. He’d been tasked to keep his brother safe and by God, he would.

Y/N was right behind him. For once he was grateful to not face this alone.

Before they could regroup, a woman’s voice echoed through the room. “Leave them alone!”

The figure of Mary Winchester appeared, her presence radiant and protective. She stood between the trio and the poltergeist, her gaze fierce.

“Mom?” Dean’s voice was barely a whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Mary didn’t look at him, her focus solely on the spirit. “You don’t belong here,” she said firmly. The poltergeist shrieked, its form twisting and writhing as Mary’s light engulfed it. With one final cry, it vanished.

The room fell silent. Mary turned to her sons, her expression softening. “Dean. Sam.”

Dean stepped forward, his voice breaking. “Mom?”

“You’ve grown so much,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I’m so proud of you both.”

Sam’s voice trembled. “Why are you here?”

Mary’s form began to fade. “To protect you. To protect them.” She glanced at them, her eyes full of love.

And with that, she was gone.

The silence in the room was deafening. Dean’s hands clenched into fists, his emotions warring within him. Sam placed a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Y/N broke the silence. “We should check on Jenny and the kids.”

Dean nodded, his jaw tight. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Missouri was waiting for them at her home that night. Her knowing eyes met Dean’s, and she nodded. “She did what she needed to do.”

Dean’s voice was rough. “She shouldn’t have had to.”

Missouri placed a hand on his arm. “Sometimes, love is stronger than anything else. Even death.”

Dean was mulling that as he walked Y/N to her car. Her vehicle was a Honda Elsment, compact but designed to use space well. “So… how much you wanna punch me?”

Y/N actually snorted. Absurdly, he found that appealing. “Earlier, I really wanted to.” Her gaze softened, just a bit. “Not so much after that.”

“I still don’t like you being a hunter. I’ll be honest. Don’t do it, Y/N.” Dean looked pained, “Go back to your life.”

”I can’t, Dean,” she said quietly. Damn it. She had that soft voice that just cut through him. “I can’t live in ignorance or pretend this isn’t happening.”

He shook his head. “You’re stubborn.”

“Back atcha, Winchester.”

He quirked a half smile. “First time we met, you kissed me. Second time, I let you walk away.”

Her brows swooped up and she smiled. “And the third time?”

He barely let her finish before he framed her face with his hands and captured her lips in a kiss. In the midst of it as he explored her mouth, tasted her, he felt her hands slide up his chest.

When he eventually broke the kiss, when he finally let her go, he smirked at her. “Can’t wait to see what happens when I see you again, Y/N.”

She let out a breath, her cheeks flushed. “What makes you so sure we’ll see each other again?”

He grinned. “Call it a hunch, sweetheart.”

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

@nancymcl

(If I added you to a tag list you did not want to be a part of, feel free to send me a message and I’ll remove you. Or comment here. Same with being added! As always, reblogs, likes, and feedback are always welcomed!)

[gutsgutsgutsfordinner]

Nine Sols AU Time

We're calling it the Bloody Knuckles AU because we like shit on the nose round these parts

And because Yi punching things sounded sick enough to dredge me from a slump, so we're running with it.

In this AU, Yi is more of a fist fighter than the mystical blade-fu that Eigong and Jiequan use.

(Visuals pending, i am a rusty, crusty ass drawer of things)

Branch point is one of the last in-person meetings Yi has with Heng in canon, where she refuses a place on New Kunlun and he leaves instead of coming inside.

Here, Yi decides to bear the brunt of another confrontation with his parents to spend a little more time with his sister, a comfort he has been missing through sleepless nights at work on the Eternal Cauldron.

The experience alters his priorities and trajectory substantially, natch, and it isn't long before he withdraws his support and expertise from the project; if his sister, the one person who has been with him and supported him always, and literally saved his life, will not join him in this endeavor, then he will not leave her behind.

This goes over extremely poorly, but not so terribly that Eigong kills him. That will come later, because even in the reality where Yi makes the correct decisions sometimes, he still has horrible taste in role models.

He opts instead to return home and help support his sister and ailing parents, and this transition is a bit of an undertaking. He sees problems and thinks of technological solutions that he no longer has the infrastructure to support, and meets with constant frustration.

But he does eventually come around to a simpler life, embracing blisters and Bloody Knuckles. Eh? Ehhh?

As tempting as it is to dig into the meat of Programmer/Scientist-turned-Farmer Yi struggling to reconnect with his hometown, we're not stopping here.

Some years come and go, and Yi builds a life. He works the fields and helps his neighbors, practices the Tao best he can, and spends as much time as he can with Heng. The symptoms of their species' death are mounting, more and more homes overtaken by fungal flowers, and every moment is precious.

So of course, Eigong picks about then to tie up some loose ends. She became increasingly paranoid after her star pupil cut and run, thinking that he must know about her responsibility for the disease killing them all. She leads force of state police and geno-soldiers to raze his village to the ground, under the auspices of culling a new, more virulent strain of the infection.

Yi tries to fight them off, smashes body armor and carapace until the skin peels from his knuckles, but he's overwhelmed. He tries to sacrifice himself to spare Heng from Eigong's blade, but instead she skewers both of them.

The Fusang sustains him as in the original, but he doesn't take a 500 year root nap this time.

Kuafu finds him just a short while after when he comes to mourn, and speeds Yi's recovery with modern medicine and a few jury-rigged modifications to the Jade System.

Yi wakes up with a fairly enormous chip on his shoulder; between years of manual labor and this second chin-clip from Death, he's all fury and hard lines. He's bigger, meaner, bereft; kindness and light were stolen from him. Between the roots and the Jade System, he's unsure if he can even rejoin Heng in the Dao.

With nothing to return to, and no future for himself, let alone his kind, his only line of action is obvious:

Return to New Kunlun and confront what it and his former fellows have become: the last bastion of his kind, and a black monument to sin.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

You can ask me things if you want. I'm gonna keep churning this out whether you like it or not, so get used to seeing this dumb mf in your nine sols tags

[bluejaysandblackbats]

You're Just Like Quicksand

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Batman Beyond

Summary: Jason Todd is ready to go into semi-retirement after fifteen years working with troubled youth, but one case in particular forces him to confront the sins of his youth and painful memories from his past.

Chapters: 14/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Terry McGinnis, Warren McGinnis, Mary McGinnis, Matt McGinnis, Bruce Wayne, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): TBA

Additional Tags: Protective Jason Todd, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Retired Jason Todd, Multiple POV, Hurt/Comfort, Parent-Child Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, Angst, Mourning Jason Todd

Chapter Fourteen: Fathers and Sons (Terry McGinnis' POV)

I hadn’t heard from Jason in over two years, but he was at the funeral. I thought it was strange. I wondered who invited him. I wondered why he stood so far away. Mom couldn’t move. She couldn’t process any of it. So, we stood beside her as everyone paid their respects and went home. They could go home. I couldn’t. I could never go home again. I had to officially move in with Mom once they let me into the crime scene that was once my dad’s apartment. Everyone left, and I stayed behind. Mom took Matt home, and Jason finally approached. I couldn’t pretend. I resented him for letting me go without a reason. So, I let him have it. I couldn’t remember what I said, but I know it was harsh. He stood there, tall and strong with sadness in his eyes. Jason didn’t move. He didn’t flinch. I tore into him until I didn’t have any other words to describe how I felt. And without missing a beat, he said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you… But I knew you were good. I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t think you could handle it… But I missed it. Every moment.”

I swallowed hard. My stomach was in knots. It only took a few little sentences for me to forgive him. I knew he’d understand my grief. My anger. My emptiness. “What are you doing here?” I questioned, my voice breaking as I asked him. 

“I promised Mary that I’d look after you while you got your things. I also promised her that I’d try to get you to eat. We could get whatever you want,” Jason whispered, “We’ll go eat… And then we’ll get your stuff. I promise.” 

“Why? Why now?” I asked. 

“Because I lost my parents as a kid. And in retrospect, I think I needed someone who could show me how to process grief without being pacified with emotionally addictive coping mechanisms. Are you alright with me coming around for a little while?” Jason questioned. I wanted to say no. I wanted to pretend I didn’t need him, but I couldn’t lie. I nodded. 

** 

After Jason took me to eat, we went to the apartment. Jason came with me, and he stood by quietly while I packed everything that I could into a box. Everything I owned fit into one big box. It made me feel sick and empty in my chest. I looked up at Jason, almost pleading for him to feel it for me. Feel my pain.  

“One of the kids in my program took my family from me. He got too attached… And he—. He developed a jealous streak. He thought I passed his case on because of my children… And he took them from me. I was afraid that those feelings would keep me from helping you… And I didn’t want to make the same mistake of passing your case onto someone else, so I stepped away. Besides, you were so independent. You didn’t need me as much. You and Warren were doing alright. But, he—. He called me. He said something changed a few months ago. What was it?” Jason questioned. The confession seemed out of place. 

“It wasn’t like that. I get into with some guy at school sometimes, but it’s—. Dad was swamped at work. He didn’t have the time to talk about it anymore… So, I stopped explaining. I’m not messing around with gangs or stealing anymore. I swear,” I promised him. He nodded. “I would’ve understood if you told me what happened to your kids. I’m sorry, Jason.”

“It’s—. Thank you… I probably should’ve explained, but I—. It’s a lot to dredge up,” Jason replied, “Which is why I want you to talk about this on your own time. I’ll be available whenever you feel like talking about him. I spent a lot of time talking to Warren. We became friends. He was kind to me.”

“What did you have in common with my dad?” I questioned. 

Jason smiled as tears slid down his cheeks. “He had a normal life… Normal problems… But this—.”

“Feels wrong… I don’t think Dad would’ve opened the door for those twips,” I interrupted him.

Jason nodded as he looked around. He must’ve seen something because his jaw tightened. “Terry, after today… don’t come back here. Something’s not right. This isn’t—. If you see something weird, I want you to call me,” Jason whispered. He stepped into the doorway, and I could tell there was something wrong in his eyes. A switch flipped, and he scanned over everything. 

“What is it?” I questioned. Jason shook his head as he took me to his car. His face went dark, and he looked around. 

“I don’t know… I just feel strange about all of this, Terry. Get in the car, and I’ll take you to Mary’s. It’s getting dark,” Jason whispered. He shut the door and got in the driver’s seat. I looked at Jason. 

“Does this mean I’m back in the program?” I asked. I felt stupid as soon as I asked it. 

“Is that what you want?” Jason questioned. 

He wanted me to say it. Not for his ego. I don’t think he had one, but it was all for me. He wanted to know what I wanted. And he needed me to ask him. I started hyperventilating, and Jason tapped the dashboard between us until I calmed down. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without my dad,” I mumbled.

“And I can’t fill that space, but I can create a space for you to cope if you’ll let me help you,” Jason answered. 

We didn’t say anything else for the whole ride home, and he walked me up to the door and said goodbye to my mom and Matt before leaving. And somewhere in between me entering my room and seeing Matt, I dropped my dad’s picture and found the disc. And that’s when I decided to get involved with Bruce Wayne. I didn’t know much about the old man, and I didn’t really care, but I needed his help. I knew I couldn’t go to Jason because he’d tell me not to get involved. He would’ve taken over, and I wanted my own answers… and it was Mr. Wayne’s company. 

**

Jason picked me up from school after Powers’ people accosted me. He pinched the bridge of his nose, before sighing. Avery-Marie sat in the back seat, kicking her feet. She had noise-canceling headphones on. “Are you okay?” Jason asked.

“I’m alright… Is that Avery-Marie? She’s so big now,” I whispered. 

“Yeah… She’s in kindergarten… Why is Powers’ muscle hassling you?” Jason questioned. 

I shook my head like I didn’t know, and he accepted it. He knew I was lying, but he didn’t push for an answer. “Powerphones off,” Jason commanded, and Avery-Marie looked up. 

“Grandpa, can I have a cookie in the car?” Avery-Marie asked. 

“Sure, Avie. Did you see Terry in the front seat?” Jason questioned.

“Hi, Terry! Do you want a cookie too?” Avery-Marie offered. Her blonde curls reached past her shoulders, and she wore glitter star stickers on her face. “Grandpa, is Terry coming over to play?” 

Jason tapped the steering wheel as he started driving. “Not today, Sweetpea… Terry’s busy.” Avery-Marie pouted as she handed me a cookie.

“Maybe some other time… ‘Kay, Avery-Marie?” I offered. 

Jason nodded. “If he’s free, maybe he can babysit sometimes,” Jason suggested. He wanted me at the office. I knew what that meant. He wasn’t ready to let the situation with Powers go. Not completely anyway.

[anincompletelist]

happy wip wednesday! :D

ahhh I have been all over the place today, forgive me if I've missed anyone here! THANK YOU TO @nocoastposts @iboatedhere @kiwiana-writes @cricketnationrise @zwiazdziarka @inexplicablymine @ninzied @matherines @getmehighonmagic @heybuddy-drabbles FOR THE TAGS! and also to @magicandarchery @bigassbowlingballhead @getmehighonmagic @firenati0n for the tags for the last line of 2023/first line of 2024 tags! by the time I saw them I had no CLUE what they actually were because I wrote straight through the new year with RWRB playing in the background ksjhkjhd.

ALSO I made a patreon? (COMPLETELY FREE OF COURSE—do NOT select the paid tier!! i just can’t figure out how to delete it jsksjkd) to have a space to share snippets and other things that I write that don't get posted here or on ao3. I'm not sure how much I'll use it as of right now but I think it could be fun! slowly uploading some things I've written lately. we'll see! <3

trying to share some things I haven't had a chance to before, so here's a snippet from what is lovingly titled 'the train au' in my docs, though the train is actually a shockingly small plot point of the full fic sjhdksjhd.

+

Aaron’s eyes slide over to Henry and narrow. Henry shifts underneath the scrutiny, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Don’t do it, he thinks. He’s only here to help his mother and his sister. There’s no reason Aaron needs to go dredging up the past, ripping open old wounds that’d taken ages for Henry to poorly suture. 

And yet, that’s exactly what he does. 

“I also know a few rather unsavory things about the prince that I’m sure the family wouldn’t want coming into the light.” 

“Objection.” Alex is out of his seat so quickly that he goes blurry, jaw set and eyes blazing. It’s the most livid Henry’s ever heard him. 

The court room falls silent for a moment, and Henry scans everyone’s faces while he wipes his sweaty palms on his trousers. Aaron looks sickly pleased with himself, leaning back in his chair with a lazy smirk. He won’t be allowed to elaborate further, but the damage had already been done. Henry’s mother seems tense, and Bea looks like she might start crying, her knuckles white where she’s clutching the arm of her chair. 

Henry’s fairly certain that everyone in the room has an idea of what Aaron is referring to, but Bea more so than anyone else. She’d been there for all of it, when Henry began to figure things out and piece it all together, how difficult it was for him to be forced to hide it and what he’d done in reckless retaliation. She’d been the first person he told when things went wrong, always the first. 

The rest of the court room seems a bit restless, murmuring theories amongst themselves, glancing between Alex and Aaron to see which one will speak first. And Alex— Alex looks like he could kill someone. 

Henry can only blink, all too used to the concept of being damned to silence.

+

tags: @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @affectionatelyrs @daisymae-12 @read-and-write- @happiness-of-the-pursuit @rockyroadkylers @firstsprinces @xthelastknownsurvivorx @whimsymanaged @priincebutt @songliili @duchessdepolignaca03 @leojfitz @user-anakin @anchoredarchangel @tinyarmedtrex @myheartalivewrites ALWAYS LOVE HEARING FROM YOU GUYS <3 (but no pressure of course)

SEE Y'ALL TOMORROW FOR ANOTHER BRIDESMAIDS CHAP! :D

xx

[twelve-nights]

Moved to @observatory-12 !

Hello! Welcome to my kin blog / main. I kinda do whatever here, but this is where I put (most) of the stuff on my alterhumanity, sometimes plurality, usually random junk lmao. I make userboxes and other things on @12sidedsquare.

You can call me Twelve or any of my kins' names. I am a minor, alterhuman, and a mediple system. Please treat me like a singlet unless the context calls otherwise. (/srs) My current pronouns will always be listed above with my current shift.

Please consider checking out these Palestine fundraisers if you're in the position to donate! I will try to keep politics to a minimum here, but these are important.

BYF, kinlist, frequent fronters, and other blogs under cut! Besides that, thanks for reading!

Before you follow:

I have no set DNI and I just block whoever makes me uncomfortable. Try not to violate your own DNI though?

I generally block any sort of violent / aggressive discourse, no matter which side or what discourse. Includes "(stance) fuck off" tags.

Btw, I try to respect anyone's identity no matter what, even if I don't quite understand it. I care more about your actions that whatever you identify as.

I have kintypes from problematic media (specifically Harry Potter and Hazbin Hotel). I usually put cw tags on those posts, but if either make you uncomfortable, you might not want to follow me.

I feel the need to iterate this again but even though I am a system and will be tagging fronters occasionally, treat us like one person.

I'm learning several languages (Russian & Norwegian mainly as well as Latin in school, Mandarin and Cantonese too but that's mostly just learning to read since I can speak) but I'm only actually fluent in English. Still, I'll occasionally post in them because it helps me remember. Please feel free to reply or correct me or whatnot, I'm literally teaching myself for all but Latin lol.

Kinlist:

Selfhood / high ID "Belongs" to a specific system member Low kin / (very little mems)

Severus Snape - Harry Potter

Senku Ishigami - Dr Stone

Viola-Cesario - Shakespeare's Twelfth Night

Kohaku Oukawa - Enstars

Enswap!Rinne Amagi - Enstars AU

Doll & AbsoluteSolver - Murder Drones

Fallen Angel!Alastor - Hazbin Hotel

Naven Nuknuk - Epithet Erased / Anime Campaign

Luigi & Mr. L - Paper Mario

Ballister Boldheart - Nimona (2023)

Quasar - Atlas and the Stars

Oda Sakunosuke - Bungo Stray Dogs

Avian-fae-cryptid thing / "Harpy" - Otherkin

Swallow - Hearttype

Mimicry - Conceptkin

Shapeshifter - Hearttype

Dredge Player Character - Linktype

Fae / Cryptid - Otherkin

Frequent Fronters: (always tagged as f: <name> (<pronouns>))

Cesario - he/they/sea/it | kinform + fictive, host Natasha / Nastya - it/its or no pronouns | factive, cohost Kostya / Kolya / Nick - he/it/bug | factive-faitive, guy that sits in co con too much /silly

Other Blogs:

@halfbloodpirates @observation-12 @12sidedsquare @larklily @solveforsum

[attllhak]

Adoption AU: Midna

AKA: The one where Twilight got shot.

@tortilla-of-courage @ghostdragonace @sekiumiarashi @anadorablekiwi

Also, mind the tags for this one, since it is the fic where Twi gets shot I did look up the warnings list I gave my best friend when I shared it with them. It shouldn’t be too bad, but better safe than sorry.

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

Twilight wasn’t terribly happy about this arrangement. He understood what Keapora was trying to do, he did, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it.

It was a group project for their history class, about the French revolution. Everyone was assigned a historical figure to research, and at the end of two weeks they would need to present an argument on why their figure shouldn’t be executed. The class would vote, and if you lost then a carrot that Keapora’s daughter, Zelda, or Sun as his family called her since they knew so many Zeldas, dressed up to look like the figures would be executed. Twilight’s brother often helped her, and people didn’t usually survive since everyone loved watching Keapora execute carrot nobles with the tiny, functioning guillotine he had.

Twilight was one of the people that was really valuable in group projects because he actually did the work. He was especially sought after because he never made a big deal of it, unless the others did absolutely nothing, and even then he cornered the teacher after class instead of calling anyone out. Dusk, another Zelda, was another of these very valuable group project members. She was a little more vocal about being used, but only because she approached the teacher while class was still in and did so regardless of how little effort was put in. Twilight didn’t know Dusk personally, they didn’t run in the same circles very often, but they got along well enough.

Midna, however, was another story.

Midna was a foreign student, whose parents had immigrated not long after she was born. Her mother’s brother and his family moved with them. Twilight was more familiar with her, but only because they had ended up in the office for fighting once.

Not each other, they had never hit each other. In fact, they had been on the same side. The person they were fighting was Midna’s cousin Zant.

Zant was a grade above them, and a real piece of work. He thought because his family were immigrants that he could claim discrimination any time anyone wasn’t willing to do what he wanted. Plus, if you asked Twilight, he was just a bit loony, and every time he saw the guy he got a worse and worse feeling about him.

They’d met the year before, when Midna and Zant had switched schools. Zant had tried picking on one of Twilight’s little brothers, and Twilight was not having that. Midna had the same thought, apparently, since she was pretty quick to get involved too. Then Zant punched Twilight. Midna punched Zant. One of Zant’s cronies jumped in to defend him. Twilight’s brother Legend saw this going down and decided to lend his fists to the cause when he noticed Twi and Midna were outnumbered. Things devolved from there.

In the end, Zant’s cronies, and Legend, booked it before the teachers got there to break it up. All three of them got dragged into the office and had parents called. Twilight had been miserable until Midna leaned over to compliment him on his form and show him funny videos on her phone. They didn’t talk much, but there was a mutual respect there.

Midna was not like Twilight or Dusk. She was very useful to a group project, but also had a tendency to publicly call out everyone who didn’t help. During the presentation. Twilight had howled the first time she got to the ‘credits’ slide and it was all just her name, and then the other group members listed as ‘standing around looking pretty’. He wasn’t alone.

So he understood what Keapora was doing. By putting all the kids who were invaluable to group projects together it ensured that they wouldn’t get taken advantage of and that they’d all be able to only do their part.

He didn’t have to like it.

It was because he was on the soccer team, he figured. He knew the other sports kids used that as an excuse to get out of projects. And Dusk was on student council and in debate.

That was the only reason he could find that Midna didn’t trust them to do their part. Or maybe she was just jaded. He understood that feeling.

Either way, after the first ‘huddle’ to begin dividing the work where Midna had complained about doing all the work, Dusk pulled Twilight aside and they worked out a plan to get Midna to trust them.

A large part of this plan leveraged the fact Midna already seemed mostly cool with Twilight, so he’d be mostly on the charisma front (which had confused him, since he was far better with animals than he was people), and Dusk would focus more heavily on gathering and sorting research. This, worked less well than Dusk had hoped.

Fortunately, Midna came around the day they got kicked out of the library for getting into a screaming match about a few contradictory facts they dredged up. They left the room still steaming, but Midna was laughing pretty loudly. After that, the three of them got along pretty well.

The project went pretty smoothly after that as well, and they agreed if any more screaming was to happen they’d relocate outside. This worked really well, and soon enough they fell into a system. Dusk even offered them her house to get together after school to work on it. This worked well for Twilight, who had four and a half brothers and counting, and thus didn’t exactly live in a house conducive to group projects. Or any projects.

The three ended up spending a lot of time together working on it, and even managed to get to the point where they were well ahead of the rest of the class. Twilight was even hopeful their carrot might survive (though not so hopeful he thought it would, he knew better than that).

Of course, the universe didn’t seem to think he should be able to take a break. Ignoring that Wild had just gotten another cast off and he’d had to rescue Legend from a few more fist fights, he didn’t think anything big would end up happening. It was just the usual shit where his biggest break was going over to Dusk’s house to work or disappearing on his Epona for a few hours.

But, he wasn’t oblivious. He noticed the warning signs, he just dismissed them.

In hindsight, he shouldn’t have done this.

Zant had always made Twilight uncomfortable. It didn’t help that he seemed to really hate Twilight after the fight they’d gotten into, and made worse by the fact Twilight got along well with Midna. Midna mentioned he was always a little jealous of her for various reasons, and that they’d never been close. So he didn’t think much of it when Zant started acting weirder than usual. He asked when he noticed Midna was getting more fidgety and nervous, but accepted it when she brushed him off. He paid no mind to the fact Zant started skipping school.

He never brushed things off like this again. His therapist said it was paranoia based on trauma, but Dusk agreed with him that it was a reasonable caution. After all, he was the one who got hurt.

They had finished the project early, after spending the entire weekend at Dusk’s place to work on it at Midna’s request. In hindsight, it should have been worrying that Midna was avoiding her home, but no one said anything about it since she just brushed them off.

The three were sitting in the library, sorting through the last few bits of information and the presentation to make sure they had everything. Twilight was sitting closest to the door, which is probably why he was the one who did the stupid thing.

They had been there for maybe ten minutes when an announcement for a lockdown came over the intercom. Lockdown drills had been happening since Twilight’s dad had been in school, after he’d done something really stupid and brave in the face of danger, so no one thought much of it. Mostly, they just moved all the papers and the laptop they were using under the table so they could keep working.

That is, until Twilight noticed how worried the librarians looked.

Suspicious now, Twilight rapped twice on the top of the table and hissed to the girls his concerns. Midna agreed, but looked suddenly really, really pale, and a little scared.

“Midna, are you alright?” Dusk hovered a hand over Midna’s shoulder, and Twilight crouched down next to them to watch as well.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Midna waved them off, but both of them could tell she was lying.

“Midna, do you know what’s going on?” Twilight asked her, glancing back at the librarians every so often.

“No, well, maybe,” she was now wringing her hands in her cloak, chewing on her lip.

“Midna, what’s going on? Is this for real?” Dusk set her hand down and Midna jumped, Dusk retracting her hand as she did.

“Well,” she hesitated, but Twilight offered her a smile and Dusk nodded. “There have been a few, issues, with my cousin. You know, Zant? He uh, he’s not been doing well recently,”

“Not been doing well?” Twilight led, hoping for something more.

“He’s been getting more violent,” Midna admitted quietly. “And, and he’s starting to scare me a little bit,”

Twilight and Dusk shared a look, both coming to the same conclusion.

Before anything more could be said, however, the library door was thrown open, and the librarians screamed and ducked behind the counters. Twilight jerked up to standing, having not slid under the table with the girls.

Sure enough, Zant was standing across the library, panting hard and looking more than a little crazed.

“Call the cops,” Twilight muttered to the girls, frozen where he stood and just waiting for Zant to spot him. “One of you call the police,”

“Link,” Midna hissed at him, probably well aware of what he was planning. “Don’t you even think about it!”

“Just make sure the police are on the way,” Twilight hissed back, ignoring the use of his real name.

“Link!”

“Twilight,”

He ignored both girls when Zant finally spotted him. He knew what people looked like when they were going to shoot. Legend and Wild both learned to shoot for fun a while back and would practice on old milk jugs in the yard. He had more than enough warning before Zant even brought the pistol up to aim.

Twilight took off at him at a dead run, knowing full well he was dead if there was enough distance, ignoring the cursing from the girls.

He shoulder checked Zant hard in the stomach and managed to duck beneath the first shot. Unfortunately, he was very close to the gun and it didn’t have a silencer. He stumbled back and rubbed his ears, trying to dispel the ringing in them. This gave Zant enough time to get back to his feet and regain his breath. Twilight noticed and pushed the ringing to the side and lunged for the gun.

The two tug-of-warred over the weapon for a few beats, Twilight trying to get it away from Zant and Zant trying to get it at an angle so he could shoot Twilight. Twilight kept trying to push the gun pointed down and Zant was desperately pulling on it and trying to shove and hit Twilight.

This went on for several long moments, though Twilight didn’t remember exactly how long. He was way more focussed on the fight than how long it was.

He most certainly remembered his hand slipping and the gun coming up, and the second gunshot was burned in his memory, never to be erased.

The pain didn’t register for a few heartbeats, and shock set in almost immediately. He lost his grip on the gun and stumbled back, eyes wide in shock and horror, mouth open in a silent scream.

Zant stumbled back as well, and both boys seemed frozen. Zant grinned, however, and lifted up the gun again to finish the job.

Twilight had never felt so scared before or after.

And then a loud crack sounded, and standing behind and over Zant’s now crumpled form was Midna, chair held by the legs over her head.

Midna caught sight of Twilight, and dropped the chair, swearing really loudly.

It was at this point Twilight lowered his hands to his stomach, and the hole that now existed there. He didn’t dare look down, instead keeping his eyes on Midna and the look of horror on her face.

“Is, is it bad?” He tried for a joke, but it probably fell flat. It was then that Twilight, a little dizzy, tipped over onto the floor.

He didn’t remember much after that. He remembered Midna screaming his name, his real name, and Dusk dropping into view, phone held up to her ear. He remembered vaguely being moved somewhere else, and then being rolled onto his side and pressure on his back and stomach. He thinks he cried out at that, but his head was already starting to swim a little, and the shock wasn’t helping. His next really clear memory was in the ambulance.

He blinked and groaned, and Dusk popped into view over him.

“Easy, Link,” she reached up and moved some of his hair out of his face, smiling but not able to hide how shaken up she still was. “It’ll be okay, you’re gonna be fine,” she sounded like she was convincing herself.

“Midna?” He asked, then blinked at the muffled sound of his voice.

Dusk held his hand down, chuckling at him. “A mask,” she explained, “to help your breathing. You were gasping. Midna needed to talk to the police, since it was her cousin. She’s going to meet us,”

“Okay?” 

“Yeah, she’s okay,” Dusk smiled and rubbed his shoulder. “We’re both okay. You’re the one we’re both worried about,”

Twilight just nodded, and sort of drifted out of focus again. There was a bit of activity when they arrived, but then Twilight was put under and rushed into surgery so he didn’t remember anything that happened afterwards.

He came to a few hours later in a hospital room with stitches in his stomach and back. Dusk had collapsed over his right arm, and Midna leaned on the edge of the bed, careful to avoid the IV in his arm. He couldn’t see any family, so he figured they hadn’t gotten there yet.

Midna looked up after a few beats, and Twilight smiled at her. That had her bolting up.

“Twilight!”

Dusk lifted her head on his other side, her own face breaking into a grin when she saw him too.

“You’re up!”

“Yup, I lived,” he paused. “Actually is my phone here? Can someone take a picture of me to send to my brothers? Wild always does it when he breaks a bone, and I wanna see why he finds it so funny,”

“You’re high on pain meds, aren’t you?” Midna deadpanned at him.

He laughed, until he realized that made his stomach hurt. “Ow,”

“Okay, maybe not,” Midna admitted, then handed him his phone. “What’s your passcode?”

“Midna!” Dusk cried.

“What? He asked!”

Twilight happily opened up his phone, ignoring Dusk.

“Say cheese!” Midna grinned at him, holding up the phone.

Twilight lifted both hands in a peace sign and grinned. Midna took the photo and sent it off into the group chat without another word, even as Dusk made disapproving noises next to them.

Immediately a string of excited and relieved texts started pouring in, and Twilight had to remind himself laughing hurt.

The injury wasn’t bad, he found out. He wasn’t sure how getting shot could be ‘not bad’, but apparently since the bullet went through the damage wasn’t severe. He was expected to be back at full in less than a year, but had to be pulled off the soccer team for the rest of the year, and discouraged from rejoining the next year. That was disappointing, but livable.

About half an hour before his parents arrived, Midna offered to paint his face for him.

This had confused Twilight quite a bit. What did getting paint on his face have to do with what had happened?

Midna explained that for the Twili, her people, facial markings were important parts of identity, and you can earn them for doing certain things or surviving awful events. Twilight argued that he wasn’t Twili, and Midna pointed out she was, and that Zant was as well, and since both of them were involved she got to make the call. At this point Twilight was mostly confused as to how he would have even earned facial markings.

Midna just sputtered. “You got shot! AND you defended me and Dusk from Zant. You fought my cousin for the gun so he wouldn’t shoot anyone else! That, as far as I’m concerned, makes you a hero! And heroes obviously get facial markings. Not to mention I’m pretty damn sure getting shot counts as a ‘pretty damn awful experience’. So yes, you qualify for markings.”

Twilight blinked at that. Well, he couldn’t really argue with that.

So he let Midna paint his face.

When his family, and Midna and Dusk’s parents, arrived Midna was sitting on the bed next to him, a paintbrush in hand and Dusk holding a small pot full of a specific kind of paint Midna had ducked out to get. Twilight had half a diamond shape on his head at this point. The three teenagers all froze to turn to look at the newcomers.

“Hi,” Twilight waved at them.

“What’s going on here?” Time asked, eye roving over the group.

“I’m painting his face,” Midna explained.

“Why?” Time asked, and Midna’s father, who also had an elaborate series of markings on his face, leaned around him.

“Yes, why are you doing that?”

“Because,” Midna explained, “he got shot. And he fought Zant to protect us from him, and as per tradition, that qualifies him for facial markings. So I’m doing them for him,”

“Zant?” Midna’s father asked.

“Yeah, he showed up and tried to shoot up the school,” Midna explained as she went back to applying paint to Twilight’s face. “He busted into the library where we were and Twilight tried to fight him to protect the rest of us. He got shot and I whacked Zant in the head with a chair. Then we huddled off somewhere else to hide until the cops showed up.”

“No, Zant was the shooter?” Her father repeated.

Midna froze and turned around. “Yes. Did you not know?”

Her father shook his head. “They didn’t catch the shooter,”

Midna’s shoulders dropped, and both hylians behind her looked equally horrified.

“What?” Midna asked.

Her father shook his head again. “They didn’t catch him,”

Midna took a deep breath, then shook her head and turned back to Twilight. Her hand was shaking now, so she didn’t go back to painting. Twilight lifted his hand to pat her knee.

“I’m sure they’ll catch him soon,” Malon offered, slipping into the room to take up on the couch against the wall. “He’s pretty easily identified, after all,”

“Right,” Midna nodded, then shook herself once. “Right, it’ll be fine.”

She dipped the brush back into the paint and went about continuing to paint on Twilight’s face.

“What are you doing?” Eyes turned back up to find Zant’s parents in the doorway now, after everyone else wandered into the room to settle down.

“Why is everyone asking me that?” Midna turned to face the ceiling. “I’m painting his face! I can do that! He’s earned the markings, and as the present Twili I can choose to provide them to him, even though he isn’t Twili. Believe me, I’ve considered whether or not this was something I could do, and I can. And besides, I’m already half done,”

“No,” Zant’s mother corrected. “I mean why are you painting his face for assaulting my son?”

“What?!” Midna whipped around, fury on her face.

Zant’s mother nodded. “He attacked Zant, and you rewarding him for it is a betrayal to this family,”

“Zant brought a gun to our school!” Midna burst, apparently pissed off and finally snapping after the stress of the day. “He tried to shoot me, he DID shoot Twilight! Twilight saved our lives by attacking him, and he got injured for it! He more than deserves these markings, and Zant should be in jail!”

Zant’s mother stuttered, then drew herself up. “That boy is a danger to everyone around him,”

“Yes,” Midna agreed and pointedly added a line under Twilight’s eyes. “Zant is unstable and dangerous,”

The woman huffed, and went to start yelling when Malon stood up again and blocked her from the door. “Let’s talk, hm?”

The door shut and Twilight had to put in a lot of effort not to laugh as his mother tore into the woman outside the door. After a few minutes, Midna’s mother joined her, and Dusk’s father followed with a camera in hand.

No one else questioned the paints again.

In the end, Zant’s mother filed for a restraining order against Twilight and Malon, which Malon said she would abide by exclusively because it was one less expense on them. Midna’s parents refused to separate Midna from one of her friends, especially one who put his life at risk to help her, and didn’t sign onto the order the way Zant’s mother wanted them too.

Twilight ended up with a very nice looking set of markings over his forehead that Midna told him symbolized courage and boldness and sacrifice. He was quite proud of them.

He got back to school the same day as the presentation, which he thought was pretty amusingly coincidental. His mother, ever worrying, did insist he use a wheelchair (one they had for Time from a few years before Twilight was born) so he didn’t put undue strain on his injury.

The presentation went well, and things worked out fine. They even managed to keep their carrot alive. Midna’s ‘credits’ of course popped up, but it was much more even than in the past. Of course, there was still the ‘sitting around looking pretty’ category.

Midna was listed. They had taken a vote. Everyone found this hilarious.

There was more laughter when Twilight was listed as having ‘bled for this’. Keapora didn’t find it as amusing as their classmates did.

Midna moved away not long after that, her parents worried about Zant. She explained she wouldn’t be able to talk to them anymore until things calmed down or Zant was caught since her parents were scared.

That was the last time either of them spoke to her.

(---)

The markings Midna painted on stuck around for a very long time. Dusk theorized that the paint was probably some kind of tattoo paint, meant to stain the skin for a long time. Even four and a half years later, the paint was still visible. It was beginning to fade now, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get it redone. The only Twili in the area was Zant’s family, and no one was asking them. It was quite the conversation starter though.

He hadn’t heard from Midna at all since she moved away, and he really missed her. Turns out when you fight someone’s loony cousin together you bond. Who knew?

The scar on his stomach didn’t bother him much, unless it rained really hard or really suddenly. Overall, despite his continuing visits to a therapist and the occasional nightmare, he had recovered from the entire event mostly unscathed.

Most of the time he didn’t get to think about it, helping out on the ranch and prepping to take over some day, alongside his now seven brothers, meant he didn’t have time too.

His therapist was worried his drag racing was a sign of self-destructive behavior, and a symptom of trauma. He ignored her, even though she may have been right.

And that was life. That was just the way it was.

Eventually Time got a call from the police captain, whom he knew quite well by now, letting him know they apprehended Zant, and charges were pending. Time promised they’d testify.

Twilight finally put in an application to a college, one of the really rural ones that offered classes in the sort of stuff that’d be useful when he took over the ranch from his parents one day. He got accepted.

About two weeks after Zant was convicted and carted off, and Twilight was looking at packing up for his first semester, he got a call from an unknown number.

Curious, but not stupid, he turned on the call recording app he’d gotten after the first few times he’d received a threatening call after the whole Zant thing, and hit answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey wolf boy,”

He nearly dropped his phone.

[wasabito]

thank you to @sparkexplosive and @vs-redemption for beta reading it for me! merry christmas & happy holidays everyone ♥️

➽ synopsis: being a member of the royal guard is a grueling and thankless job, so you decide to remind katsuki a little of what it’s like to be young again—what better way to do that than with some healthy competition.

➽ word count: 1.7k

➽ tags: fluff, budding romance, royalty au, childhood friends

➽ author’s note: i had a ton of fun participating in my first ever secret santa!! this is my gift-fic to the lovely @katsushimaa​ hope you enjoy, yssa!

"So, this is where the hell you've been hiding?"

His voice tore through the midday stillness like a blade, equal parts raspy and gruff. He sounded irritated and mildly fatigued. Not that Katsuki Bakugou would ever admit to being anything less than a hundred and ten percent. He climbed off his steed, heavy boots crunching under the weight of his feet, and secured his horse against the stump you were leaning on.

You flipped the page of your book, not sparing the man even a cursory glance. You would prefer to keep your attention occupied by fictitious worlds, warriors, and battles fought in the name of love and justice.

It was much easier to allow yourself to become the bearer of fictional hardships, because at least they could be solved through a well-constructed plot with each turn of a page, as opposed to the realities of your actual life, a slow spiraling disaster in comparison.

Bakugou stood in front of you, vein ticking on his throat with every clench of his jaw. His arms were crossed tight over his chest, red gaze pinned on your hunched form. He wasn't at all the kind of person anyone could easily ignore. His very presence demanded attention and drew eyes like a magnet.

Case in point, no matter how much you tried to ignore him, you simply couldn’t.

"Please tell me you aren't going to stand there the entire time. Take a hint will you." You went to turn another page, but Bakugou reached over and snatched the book from your hands with deft fingers and speed you couldn't hope to match.

"Give. It. Back."

"Nah, I don't think I will just yet." He sneered, thumbing through the pages. "I was told to bring your dumbass back to the estate, so that's exactly what the hell I'm 'bout to do."

You blew a puff of air from your lips, eyes blazing with a kind of defiance that only burned harder the more you glared at him. "Then I guess you'll just have to drag me back kicking and screaming."

Bakugou only smirked, teeth spread in a feral grin that sent a chill down your spine.

That had always been his intention.

Almost an hour later, you stood before your parents, clothes dusty, creased, and smudged from having been manhandled like a sack of flour before promptly dumped in front of your waiting audience.

A frown marred your delicate features as they began their lecture.

Your mind drifted elsewhere the more they reminded you of your lineage and that you were royalty and how it was imperative you behave as such. You’d heard it all before, known this for as long as you could remember. As the King and Queen of your home country, your parents never failed to emphasize the importance of keeping your every move in check because of the reputation you had to uphold.

Katsuki stood somewhere behind you, and although he stayed mostly silent, you could almost hear him grinding away at his molars. The King and Queen were taking turns subtly digging into him as well, implying that his incompetence was a stain upon the royal guard perfect record of achievements. If he couldn't keep you in line, what was the point of holding rank?

They annoyed him way more than they did you, but he dare not voice it, not if he wanted to keep his head attached to his shoulders. Far be it from him to send himself to the guillotine

You both were in for a long night.

“Honestly, this kind of behavior is unbecoming of someone of your status. What will our countrymen think if they see you roaming about unattended like a vagabond?” Your father stroked his beard as if waiting for a response. But everyone in the room knew he really just liked to hear himself talk.

He was no better than a machiavellian swindler in expensive robes. A puppet if you would.

The real leader of the land was your mother. After all, she had only married into the family, having been the daughter of a mere advisor with no royal blood. She spoke little, but her glare was more than enough to convey just what she was thinking.

By the end of the lecture, you felt like all of your energy had been sapped from you, but thankfully your parents left you to retreat into your bedroom for the remainder of the day. Bakugou escorted you, following close behind.

“You’re gonna do it again, aren’t ya?”

You paused, foot nearly catching against the carpeted floors of your bedroom. Fiddling with a piece of your hair, you shrugged. “...maybe.”

“You’re a huge idiot.” Bakugou shook his head with a low laugh.

A tiny smidgen of a grin danced on your lips as you considered him. He was your childhood friend. No one knew you better than he did. And he was also the guard most assigned to watch over you and keep you safe from harm.

Despite that, you’d come to notice how much he’d changed. He wasn’t the same Katsuki you grew up knowing and you missed him dearly. Occasions like this, where a part of his guard was let down, were becoming few and far between. There had to be something you could do.

“Let’s make a wager. If you can manage to find me, I’ll do one thing at your command.”

“Challenge accepted.” He reached into the folds of his uniform, pulled out your little novel, and slapped it right into your open palm. "No matter where you run off to, I'll find ya. Trust me on that, princess."

His eyes were like candles in the night, ignited by a spark of passion. Not a single lie could be detected.

"I won't make it easy on you, Katsuki, just so you know."

"Heh, you better not." He sniffed, tucking his hands into his uniform pockets. And with a final half-wave, he was gone.

In and around the capital city, winter had completely lost it's bite. The weather was tepid, swinging a mild breeze that coasted through the countryside. It was the sort of winter where one felt as if woolen clothing were worn more for comfort than necessity. In what should have been the chilliest part of the year, Bakugou found himself traversing one of the many beaches that hedged the southern peninsula.

After a full week following the challenge issued in your bedroom, Bakugou realized you were entirely too good at evading him or any of the other guards at the kingdom’s disposal, for that matter.

Day in and day out, he spent his shifts searching tirelessly for you, just to stumble upon you in the most random of places and only when you had wanted him to find you. The running score was six to five in your favor, but he was determined not to lose to you again.

And there you were, standing at the very edge of the shore, as if a mere thought had manifested you right before his very eyes. Your loose billowing dress of soft satin waved to him like a white flag of surrender in the air. He'd finally found you.

"Not gonna run off this time?"

"Nope! You won this round." Your cheeks creased in a smile.

Given the boots he'd worn, it was no surprise that his feet kept sinking into the sand. You said nothing as he toed off his shoes and socks, bare feet settling into the depths of warm, grainy sand.

He couldn’t help but feel more relaxed. Over the past few months, he’d found himself losing sight of his goals, caught in the dredges of the mundane and routine.

The cool waters lapped at both his and your feet, fizzing and bubbling, leaving behind traces of salt. You went further into the water’s touch, your back to him as the tides licked at the your calves. Even he had to admit, the view was a beautiful one, possibly even more so with you against the backdrop.

“I’m glad you found me,” you called over the cry of seagulls. “For a second, I was worried you’d lose this round.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Tch, as if I’d ever lose to you, princess.”

“Naturally.” You laughed.

“What the hell are we doing out here anyway?”

He knelt to roll up his pants, a mere moment away from following after you like always.

“I... really just wanted to show you the view. Do you remember when we used to come down here as kids? Remember how we used to dare each other to see who could go the farthest into the ocean?”

Of course he remembered. Those were some of his most cherished memories of his time spent with you before duty to the kingdom took precedent.

You reached a hand out to him, an open invitation. “I just thought you needed a little reminder of what that was like.”

For some reason, Katsuki was determined not to meet your gaze, scowling at some point on the horizon, until you came over and nudged him with your elbow. “It wouldn’t kill you to admit that I’m right.”

With a sigh, he reached over and tugged you into a hug. You snuggled close to his chest, gripping the back on his uniform. It may have been your imagination but you could’ve sworn you felt the soft press of lips against your temple.

“Thanks... you know... for everything.”

Beaming, you leaned back to get the full view of his heated cheeks.

“Of course, of course.”

There was something earnest in his eyes that told you no matter how far you went, or however far you traveled, he’d always be a step behind you. It sent your heart hammering in your ribcage. You were suddenly all too aware of the way he held you secure against him like he would never let go.

“What are you thinking, princess?”

You blinked owlishly, taken over by your feelings and mumbling a hushed. “Oh, nothing.” The two of you were just a royal and a guard, bound to one another by duty.

If there could be anything more than that...well, only time would tell.

[anondudeao3]

Fic Recs!

Since I'm on hiatus, I've finally had time to do some reading, and I thought I'd give some fic recommendations, since I won't be posting for quite a while. These are my absolute favourites!

(I'm splitting this into two posts — one for JayDick and one for JayTim — because now that I'm finished with the first half it's quite long)

JayDick

A Love Triangle With The Same Person

By: Chrystie, kate882

Word Count: 10,031

Summary: Dick might have a bit of a thing for Jason, one of Red Hood's criminal underlings. But he's also already a little in love with Red Hood.

→ Identity porn! Who doesn't love identity porn? Very cute and sweet.

Everything I Know

By: epistemology

Word Count: 12,360

Summary: Red Hood is a little bit in love with his partner, Nightwing, who has a huge crush on Jason Todd, the hot bookstore owner, who is actually the Red Hood, who is too busy being in love to notice Dick Grayson, who's actually Nightwing.

Jason and Dick fall in love with the wrong versions of each other, and things become complicated fast.

→ More identity porn, but this one is a lot more sort of missed connections, plus it has bookshop owner Jay who was never taken in by Bruce! It really has you begging SOMETHING to happen to somehow make them see that THEY ARE EACH OTHER, THEY ARE THE ONES THEY LIKE. AHHHH IT'S THE SAME PERSON. And when it finally does happen, it's so sweet and satisfying. (I recommend checking out their other fics too! Lots of sweetness.)

Lie To Me, Darling

By: Chrystie, kate882

Word Count: 19,214

Summary: Officer Dick Grayson is undercover in the infamous Red Hood's gang trying to track down the man behind the helmet. With his former partner killed for being found out, there's a new guy in the gang to take his place. Jason doesn't seem like the average new gang recruit, and Dick may be getting more than he bargained for trying to get close to him.

→ Okay, ngl I JUST now noticed that this one is by the same people as the first one, and I specifically didn't want to put multiple fics by the same people (just say I recommend checking out their other stuff, but not rec separately), but it's too late now and I don't have a 7th JayDick fic to recc that isn't also an author repeat, and I don't want it to be uneven.

But ANYWAY. This one will fuck you up, I can't lie. Unhappy ending, but if you can brave that, ohhh it's so good. It's so damn sweet whilst the good times last, even though you know it's only temporary and it's all going to go to hell at some point... man. It hurts. But it hurts so good. It's beautiful, and I personally think it's worth the pain.

Two Birds on a Wire

By: empires, pentapus

Word Count: 20,565

Summary: Dick asks Jason for help on a case. Jason should have never agreed.

→ It's probably laughable that I'm reccing this, since pentapus is one of the authors and their art is like huge in the JayDick fandom, and the fic has more than 22.5k views, which seems to be quite a lot as far as JayDick fics go. But in the event that you haven't read it yet... This is actually the very first JayDick fic I EVER read, it introduced me to the ship, and I just reread it and it's still just as amazing, what a winner to start out with!

The dynamic between Jay and Dick, the way Dick gets so into his undercover role, Jay's emotional turmoil, the action — it's all just absolute chef's kiss! It's so hard to write action well, and these two made this fic so engaging!

All Soulmates Final, No Refunds

By: empires, salvadore

Word Count: 38,900

Summary: Mystic Waters Grande Hotel sells itself as a luxury soulmate retreat with all manner of couple’s activities. The cost is high, and all is not as it appears on the hotel’s grounds. Dick and Jason go undercover as newlywed soulmates to find out what’s behind the rash of missing persons. And dig up old feelings in the process.

→ (Since empires was collaborating with two different people of the different fics, I don't count that as a repeat).

Well firstly, this is a rare Batman!Dick JayDick! And secondly, yes, one of the ubiquitous soulmate AUs. But with some very interesting twists! Also, like TBOAW above, the action in this is amazing, and absolutely had me on the edge of my seat. Similarly, their undercover personas were lots of fun, and it was very fun to see them push each other further and further with them.

Secrets of the Sea

By: ParzivalHallows

Word Count: 42,711

Summary: Being a merperson was dangerous enough, but being a merperson captured by pirates? That's got to be one of the worst fates for a merman. Merman Dick Grayson is captured by a slave ship, where he meets Jason Todd, who's a slave on that ship. Together, the two plan an escape. However, they need to put aside their odds first, which is very difficult for the two stubborn men.

→ I have to give you fair warning first, this one is incomplete and hasn't been updated since 2017, so I don't think it's ever going to be finished (but it can't hurt to leave a nice comment!) BUT WAIT, DON'T SCROLL YET, hear me out. It's really good, okay. You do need to mind the warning tags because there is major character death (not Jay or Dick though, and since it's not complete I'm kind of choosing to believe that they're not really dead and later in the story it actually turns out that they managed to survive).

There are a lot of grim things in this story, it's really about survival, but the worldbuilding is fucking phenomenal, and the author drew me right in. The descriptions and the action and emotion, the unexpected magic that they have to figure out? It's all so cool and well done.

Steady On Forward

By: JayseHasNoGrace

Word Count: 96,287

Summary: Dick Grayson's life has never been easy, but he'd like to think it's been going better lately. He's been operating mainly out of Gotham again for almost a year, and has been in a steady relationship for just over. He knows where he stands with crime-fighting, and the family is all on pretty good terms, considering.

Things are really going pretty well.

Unfortunately, the balance doesn't last long, and old horrors from Dick's past end up dredged up alongside new ones.

This is a story about love and family, but equally so about trauma and healing from it. Please heed the warnings in the preface.

→ Alright, the final JayDick rec, the longest, and the darkest. But wait, again, don't scroll! It's also by far the most hopeful AND FLUFFY. Now, the author is NOT fucking around about heeding those warnings, there's a shitload of them and it's really heavy, hard shit. Do not get me wrong, this fic is going to HURT you. But by the end, it's going to have felt so cathartic, and you're going so feel soft and hopeful and whole. I don't know how they did it, but it's SUCH an emotional rollercoaster. Another commenter on AO3 (mach5plus1) said it better than I could:

I gave this fic my whole heart, it took it, smiled and said “awwww, I’ll take care of it!“

Then started putting pressure on it and I told it “ouch, that hurts”

The fic kept smiling and put more pressure until a piece broke off (last chapter)

and then another (this chapter)

The fic keeps doing it until my heart is shattered into pieces and it’s standing over each shard with a frown saying “oops” (the upcoming chapters)

Then, after finding each piece again and picking them up, the fic will slowly push each piece back into place.

By the end it’ll give my heart back a little different, but somehow better than it was when I gave it away.

It will crush your heart, but it will lovingly patch it back together by the end, I promise. If you can read it without getting triggered, I thought everything was well handled, and it's so worth it. (I recommend checking out their other JayDick fic too, they only have one, but it's a fluffy romcom, so if you need a break after this one, that's there!)

[goodlucktkachuk]

Frantic -- Matthew Tkachuk (Pt.1)

a/n: I’ve spent the past 48 hours reading fanfiction for this man, it is time I write something

Summary: Growing up around the game y/n has met too many hockey players to name but one of her brothers old team mates always held a special place in her mind. Running into Matthew wasn’t what she had in mind but maybe it was a good thing.

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: age gap

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

Frantic was the only way to describe you on this cold February morning. Overtired from a frustrating night of painting, annoyed at your roommate and already stressed about tonight's game. As you manover your body through the streets of Toronto the air was almost too cold to handle. Not remembering a jacket or boots, it was just you, your coveralls over an old sweater and beat up vans dredging through the snow to the coffee shop around the corner. Your head was throbbing as you were walking but the streets were quiet for 7am and that was the only thing you appreciate about the day so far.

“Stupid pregame rituals, stupid Nick, stupid Emily reminding me I made a promise.” You grumbling as you throw yourself into the store, shuffling to the side knowing your mobile order would be up soon. Closing your eyes you bring your hands up to your face to relieve some of the from tension from your eyes  you're met with the cold feeling of wet paint on your skin. This morning just kept getting better.

“Mobile order for Y/N!” The barista yells, snapping you out of your bitter attitude. You say a soft thank you as you turn on your heels, suddenly being met with the hard chest of the man standing behind you. As you pull away your face drops as you see blobs of black and blue paint where your face hit is white hoodie.

“Oh my god! I am so so sorry. Game day turns me into a mess, at least let me--” He cuts you off before you offer to pay for his drink. Looking up, you’re thrown off when you meet his eye. You haven’t seen Matthew in probably four years. He’s filled out, the curls on his head suit him and his blue eyes are still the same. A blush creeps over your cheeks of as memories of watching him practice and endless team dinners filled your mind. You wonder if he recognizes you but his words confirm that you are in fact a stranger to him.

His first statement is extreamly blunt for how early it is “You’re too much of a mess to work for either organization.” 

You were a little thrown off. He scans you up and down before he continues. “Guessing by how young you look you’re probably a girlfriend so…” He drags the o-sound out for far too long making you giggle slightly then he keeps going “Which leaf will be paying for my hoodie in punches tonight?” His face twists into a wicked smile as he waits for a response.

Taking a deep breath you reply. “Technically, Nick Robertson… BUT I’m not his girlfriend nor is it his fault that your clothes are ruined. Plus I think my roommate would prefer I wasn’t the reason her boyfriend loses some of his teeth.” You voice trailed off near the end because the thought of that happening made your head hurt even more.

He stands there as you watch the gears turn in his head. In a moment of quick thinking you blurt out, “I’m a flames fan! If that makes this situation better.” Smiling slightly as he rolls his eyes.

Quietly he says, “Fine, I’ll let it slide… but I better see you in the stands in red tonight sweetheart.” He flashes you a wink as he reaches past you to grab his coffee and he quickly leaves you standing in the empty shop once again.

Dumbfounded, your phone begins to buzz in your pocket seeing your moms name flash across your screen. You groan internally and talk to her the whole walk back to the apartment as you replay your meeting with Matt.

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

“Y/N are you ready yet!! We’re going to be late!” Emily screams from the living room as she adjusts her beanie for the millionth time and looks at Nick’s last in the mirror with a goofy smile.

You were standing in your room with two jerseys staring back at you. You couldn’t make up your mind between the blue and white #16 and the red and black #19. You knew the consequences of both choices and decide you could deal with Tkachuk’s bad attitude. Slipping the leaf jersey over your shoulders it swallows you whole but the hoodie you have on underneath makes up for that a bit. You pull on a black Nike ballcap, grab your bag and meet Emily in the living room. As she goes to ask you what the hell you are wearing you just shake your head and start for the door.

The guys are doing their big entrance into the arena as you and Emily make your way to your seats next to the penalty box. She’s scolding you the whole time about missing warmups and how she’ll be getting an earful from Nick later about being late. You zone out as you scan the ice for Matt. Unfortunately, he finds you before you can find him and a frown is glued to his face. Like you decided earlier, you will deal with him later.

The game was actually pretty good with the Flames winning in overtime. Matt shooting you dirty looks every time he was sent to the box which kinda made you laugh. Standing in the family and friends area, Nick is one of the first out, pulling Em aside to ask where you guys were and probably looking for support after the game. Leaving you fend for yourself. A few minutes pass and Matty is out now along with a few other leaf players who were hanging close by, you instantly catch his eye. Making his way over to you he puts his hand over your head and uses two fingers to lift your chin so you meet his eye.

“I thought I asked you to wear red tonight princess, you’re breaking my poor little heart.” He slides his tongue over his bottom lip, cocky grin never faltering.

Returning his energy you push up on your toes as you breathe on his neck “You haven’t seen what I’m wearing underneath this yet, handsome.”  

Surprise covers his face and quickly turns into lust again. Before he can say anything you duck under his arm, running full force towards Mitch as he approaches. Opening his arms for a hug, you hurl yourself at him and he spins you around. As Matthew watches, jealousy burns in his chest as he approaches you to chirp Marner.

Before he has a chance to bite, Mitch starts laughing.

“I can’t believe you actually wore it, must been torture for you.” He ruffles your hair and you scoff at his antics.

“I swear you told her about the bet just so you could watch me in pain.” Your smile was so radiant as you laughed Matthew couldn’t help but smile too.

“I swear I didn’t! I just knew mom would want to know how your midterm piece went more than how I was feeling about a game.” Matthew was a few feet away still pretending to play on his phone as he listened to the two of you so he wasn’t sure if he heard Mitch right.

“Matty! I didn’t see you there, bring it in buddy!” Mitch called him over, bringing him into a tight hug. You stood there awkwardly watching the two old friends catch up when Mitch finally remembers you’re there.

“Oh hey, you remember my little sister Y/N from when you lived in London right.” The second the words left your brother's mouth, a look of horror crosses Matthew’s face. The last time he had seen you, you were fourteen years old. The Y/N he remembered was quiet and collected. Always had her head buried in a book at games and never really gave the boys the time of day because you were never interested in hockey when you were a young girl. But now you stood before him, a woman. You had dyed your hair, lost your baby face, got glasses and your style had done a 180. Standing in front of the two of you now, he didn’t realize how he could’ve missed the obvious resemblance between you and your brother.

Shyly you smile and say “It’s nice to see you again, Matthew.”

Still in shock he nods and says. “Still the same mini marnie for sure.”

After a bit more chatting Mitch decides it’s time for you guys to get dinner so you part Matthew with heartfelt goodbyes and ‘until we see each other again’.

Once you guys leave Matthew stays in place ordering himself an uber, thinking about what just happened. He feels a slight tap on his shoulder. Turing meets a not too happy Auston and he knows he’s in trouble. Going to apologize for stealing Austons stick he’s met with a very different topic.

“I’m just letting you know that Jake and I heard what you said to Y/N earlier and I want to remind you that she’s like a sister to all of us so you better watch yourself Tkachuk.” Matthew says nothing and simply nods because chirping Aus was dangerous territory especially when it involved family.

You were back at Mitche’s apartment after dinner to spend some time together. Or so he says, you knew he was just lonely because Steph was out of town. When he gets up to call her in between episodes of Brooklyn Nine Nine it  gives you a chance to check your phone. There were a few tags on instagram and a handful of snapchats you’d answer in the morning but one notification stood out against the rest.

Follower Request: matthew_tkachuk

Part Two

[444piscesprincess]

childhood friends to lovers/growing up together sterek fic reclist

uhh this kinda got a lil angsty but i recommend you pick a growing up together fic and listen to this song i promise you will not regret it 

https://open.spotify.com/track/5Dz8nrwQlPLE68WaTEIqY5?si=aogjMc1aToSALmAlfQOR7A 

anyways as usual check tags please!!

(click on the title for the fic)

you know you're on my mind

bibliosexual

Summary:

If there’s one thing Derek’s learned in life, it’s that crushing on someone who lives on an entire other fucking continent is probably a bad idea.

(hs!au + texting!au + childhood friends to lovers the ULTIMATE fluff fic)

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)   (series)

yodasyoyo

Summary:

Stiles is six years old when he first hears Derek's voice in his head.

Or what happens if you have a soulmate bond, in a universe where soulmate bonds don't exist?

Up Down Lock Unlock

isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Summary:

“Why are you going into grandma Ito’s apartment?” he asked.

Derek turned to him, key sliding into the lock. “What do you mean?” He tried to turn it, but the key wasn’t budging. Maybe the lock was sticking again, it’d been doing that the past few days.

Stiles was staring at him like Derek was stupid.

Derek did not appreciate sass from a ten year old.

“That’s grandma Ito’s place.”

“No,” Derek said calmly, pulling the key out and then shoving it back in, wiggling it a little when it continued to refuse to unlock the door. “This is my place.”

“I think you’re on the wrong floor then, because that apartment belongs to grandma Ito.”

(time travel counts as childhood friends right?)

the difference between going back and going home

thepsychicclam

Summary:

Stiles and Derek were inseparable growing up, but then college, jobs, and life happened. When Stiles comes back to Beacon Hills a decade later, he doesn't expect to reconnect with Derek, and he sure doesn't expect to fall in love with him.

It's Such a Gas When You Bring Up the Past

orphan_account

Summary:

Stiles finds a box of old photo albums that dredge up the sweet, the funny, the adorable, and the mildly heartwrenching parts of his and Derek's past.

(mainly a friends fic but its too cute to not include)

It's Always Been You

charlesdk

Summary:

Stiles' love life was practically non-existing, always had been. He was always terrible at picking up clues when people hit on him (it had happened, Erica had been witness to it and had been the one to let him know it was happening in the first place) because he never expected anyone to do so.

He wasn't the most desirable guy around, he knew that. He was loud, extremely nerdy, never knew when to stop talking, not exactly much of a looker if you asked him, the list was endless.

Point was, he never did know when someone was flirting with him. Which was probably how he ended up in the fight that would change his life for the better.

Lead You Home Again

GotTheSilver

Summary:

The first time Derek meets Stiles, the kid’s brown eyes are wide, and he’s staring up at him with a mischievous grin as he tugs at the arm of Derek’s first ever Batman figure like he’s trying to separate it from Batman’s body.

An alternate take on Teen Wolf, wherein Stiles and Derek are childhood friends, and things unfold from there.

Kingdom By The Sea

kilaem

Summary:

Lydia grabs his arm and pulls him down in the seat next to her. “When the hell did you find time to bag a guy like Hale?”

“We’re friends,” Stiles feels his face heat up, and then the team are running out and Derek sees him and smiles. His blush gets worse.

“Oh really?”

“Our moms were friends, okay? We’ve been in diapers together.”

“I thought you two hated each other.”

Those That Bump In The Night

bleep0bleep

Summary:

A boy’s head appears upside down, hanging off the bed. “Is anyone there?” he calls out curiously, looking right at Derek’s eyes. Caught, then. The protocol for being deliberately seen by a child is just to look as strange and fearsome as possible. No one would believe them, anyways. But Derek is tired, and he’s been running and scared, and now he just kind of flickers, curling out a tendril of dark smoke, hoping that he’s a little bit scary. No such luck. The boy’s eyes widen. “Oooh, are you the bogeyman?” “Bogeyperson,” Derek says, before he can help himself.

~

When Stiles was a boy, he had an imaginary friend named Derek. Ten years later, Derek comes back, and is very, very real.

Five Times Derek and Stiles Kissed For Practice (And One Time They Didn't)

mikkimouse

Summary:

In which Derek and Stiles grow up together and practice kissing, roughly in that order.

216 + 1: Words To Say Instead of I Love You

briggs

Summary:

Derek and Stiles have been best friends for fourteen years. They have their differences, sure, but it's never been a question for them. Their friendship has been the most solid thing in their lives -- until suddenly it isn't anymore.

Funny how just a few choice words can throw fourteen years of friendship off-balance.

OR

a collection of "Bro, That's Gay" one-shots that actually ended up turning into a concrete storyline.

hope is the thing with feathers (part of a series)

ShanaStoryteller

Summary:

Stiles is ten when he saves the Hales from their burning home and Derek from a wolfsbane bullet, and this establishes a pattern that seem to continue indefinitely.

"Then he's facing a burning home, and he wraps the hood of his sweatshirt around his mouth before he pushes the door open and steps inside. There's Mr. Hale asleep - he hopes asleep - on the couch, next to - Stiles thinks that's his brother but there are so many Hales, who can keep track. He rushes over and starts shaking him, can see the rise and fall of the man's chest so he knows he's alive, but he's not waking up. He shoves away his hood so he can shout, "Mr. Hale! You have to get up, there's a fire! Mr. Hale, get up!" Nothing, he's not even twitching, both of them taking in deep even breaths like they're having the most peaceful of rests, and Stiles is going to cry. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" There's a moment, where all Stiles can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and not the roar of the flames or the creak of wood, then with a violent, silent pop it's all back and both of the men are gasping awake, eyes open and jumping to their feet. "

(one of my favourite fics like EVER)

it came from the trees

whatshouldntbe

Summary:

“Don’t worry, Scott caught me up on everything,” Kira assures with a bubbly smile via video-chat. “You and Derek, huh? I probably should have seen that coming. I always thought it might be Cora, but Derek was the one that looked at you how I used to look at you.”

Stiles goes a little pink. “It’s still kinda new but, yeah. I really like him. He’s...” Beautiful. Patient. Smart. Painfully honest. Sweet.“...a total dork.”

Kira laughs and laughs. When she gets herself together, she replies, “Yeah, those little hearts and stars in your eyes definitely say different."

or

Stiles moves from the shiny, fast-paced lifestyle of Los Angeles to the foggy, sleepy town of Beacon Hills so his dad can become the new sheriff. Newly fifteen, he does his best to finish out his freshman year of high school (by staying under the radar) when he suddenly becomes the Beyoncé of the Supernatural community. And, without much prompting on his part, he ends up catching the eye of one of the most prominent Werewolf families in all of North America. It literally all starts with a stuffed animal(s).

(oh god this fic is the literal best even though its abandoned it ends at okay-ish place. this is one of the best hale family characterisations ive ever read. if you squint it can be a childhood friends to lovers fic but im including it anyway bc its amazing)

Promises aren't Meant to be Broken

paradis

Summary:

“Thanks for saving me,” Stiles blurts out, staring up at Laura, wide eyed.

Laura grins. “I like you,” she says, “we’ll be friends.”

(more laura and stiles besties centric but totally worth a read)

The Things We See

MelodramaticSalad

Summary:

Stiles grew up in the life of knowing that there was always more to life than what others saw with a first glance. Even as a child he saw things that no one else seemed to and always had a fascination with the unusual.

Some considered him an unusual child, but Claudia welcomed every single quirk her son displayed. His mother had a few special talents of her own and thrilled her to see it in her son as well. She'd raised Stiles to always keep his mind open and as grew and started to display his powers, she began to teach him how to use them. She even taught Stiles about werewolves at a young age, his infatuation with them growing once he had learned the truth about her closest friend.

Stiles spent nearly every possible moment that he could roaming the Hale house, following after the middle child most of the time. Derek was three years older than Stiles, but the bond they developed with each other was something their mothers considered out of a story book. Like Derek, Stiles was sensitive to his emotions, but unlike Derek, Stiles didn't need a scent to figure it out. He could feel it.

take me back

matildajones

Summary:

“I dare you to kiss me,” Stiles taunts, and he’s not expecting the way Derek says a naughty word under his breath and then leans forward.

Stiles yelps. He just dodges Derek’s mouth before he’s laughing wildly and running through the trees, calling out a series of ew ew ew as Derek chases him back home.

[fandom-space-princess]

fic writer interview

tagged by @sinaesthete - thanks boo 💕

How many works do you have on AO3?

18. Somehow. I only started posting them in January, which means I've been averaging more than 2 per month?! Granted, most of them are one-shots, but still. Bonkers.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

79,889. I have contributed one novel's worth of questionable fandom content to the greater ecosystem. Joy unbounded.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

The only fics I've published where anyone else could see them (or finished, for that matter) are for Supernatural. Others exist. I may even dredge them out into the light one day. Especially the Dragon Age ones, when DA4 comes out and inflicts some inevitable violence upon my poor little heart.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In descending order:

- Wayward Family: (T, 31589 words/26 chapters) Sitcomnatural, aka Seven Fools In A Bunker AU. Stream-of-consciousness first drafts from the beginning of the year, when I was starting to catch up on the show again after having dipped out sometime around season 6-7ish originally. I honestly expected zero readership for this, and was pleasantly surprised that so many people responded so well to it. Because I was definitely still knocking the dust off my writing skills at that point, lol. Maybe one day I'll go back to it and make it better - there's definitely stuff I'd do differently next time around.

- Some Live Like Orpheus: (T, 6193 words/1 chapter) Adam rescues Michael from the Empty, featuring Adam as Orpheus and Michael as Eurydice, with special appearances from Jack and the Shadow. The first thing I wrote that I was really, genuinely pleased with myself over.

- Vox Celeste: (E, 1909 words/1 chapter) Midam smut. PWP, in fact. Lyrical, pretty smut (or at least, that's what I was going for), but all the same.

- The First Day of the Rest of Your Afterlife: (T, 4558 words/1 chapter) Sequel to 'Orpheus'. Michael and Adam having their happily-ever-after together. This might be the most utterly self-indulgent fluff I have written. I love it.

- Two Weddings and an Engagement: (T, 7812 words/1 chapter) Written for the tumblr Midam wedding day. The Love Is Requited, They're Just Idiots - truly the most trope of all time. Featuring background sabrileena, because I am a joyful polyamorous disaster bisexual and I think they should all get to be, too.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Uh. To my great shame, I mostly don't. I always want to - the fact that people take time to comment on my writing is not lost on me as an act of love involving effort, and I can't express how much it means to me. I read and cherish every single comment I get. But interacting on AO3 takes a lot of spoons for me for some reason - and usually I just. Don't have it in me.

I'm working on it.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don't write much angst, because I am first and foremost a cinnamon roll in need of fluff and comfort. But it does happen occasionally. I think the angstiest fic is Reliquary - more of a ficlet, really, since it's only about 600 words. But they're 600 words of Major Character Death, and I made myself cry writing it, so probably that one.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Nah. Not really my jam.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No direct hate! The closest I've gotten was someone getting rude about characterization, which was more funny than anything else. What a strange thing to pick a fight over.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Quite happily, yes. I find physical intimacy to be very fulfilling, personally, and writing about my characters having those experiences themselves is fun.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge...?

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not. I kind of suspect I'd be a nightmare to co-write anything with. My writing brain works when it wants to work, not when I want it to work necessarily. And I have no way of predicting when that will be.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

I have a terrible time choosing favorites of anything, so I aggressively multiship. That said, in spn? Michael/Adam. Very closely followed by (exclusively S5 & earlier) Lucifer/Sam.

Outside of Supernatural, it's kind of a tossup. Probably the DA2 OT5 polycule (Hawke/Anders/Fenris/Isabela/Merrill). I'm aware this is a ship for insane people; I will not be accepting criticism at this time 💀

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

As of now, I actually plan to finish all my current WIPs! Pyrphoros was in very real danger of ending up in WIP purgatory for a while, but fortunately or unfortunately for everyone involved, Sin read the first chapter and gave me a pile of compliments. So now I am honor-bound to finish it (<creature brain> Friend liked fic must write more fic must please the Friend </creature brain>). It's getting worked on, bit by bit around my other projects, but still. It's happening.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm decent at getting emotions across? I'm also good at vivid visualization - in my head, I can usually see very clearly what I'm trying to describe, and I feel like that's helpful in getting it down effectively. Beyond that, I'm honestly not sure what you'd call my strengths.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I have close to zero control over when I'll have both time and motivation to write. Some of that is just the reality of balancing a more-than-full-time job with my hobby. Some of it is the executive dysfunction. But it does mean that when I'll finish anything can be... unpredictable.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I can't do it, and I don't love reading it. If I have to go looking for a translation somewhere in the notes, it wrecks my immersion in the story. No shade to people who do enjoy it; languages are gorgeous, and translations are imperfect at the best of times. Often the language something is written in is inseparable from the tone and cultural context it is meant to convey. But if given the choice, I don't seek it out.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Like I said, Supernatural is the only fandom with anything published. I think the first fandom I ever actually created anything for was Buffy. (Is that cringe? Yes. But consider: I live free of the shackles of shame. I am cringe, and I am happy).

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Probably one of the mini Midam week ones from earlier this year. Tie between Radio Silence and Every Day's Most Quiet Need, both of which turned out much better than I expected.

Not tagging anybody this time because my brain is currently scrambled eggs, although if anyone wants to do this please consider yourself tagged and feel free!

[vivilove-jonsa]

Young at Heart at Oldstones

Since we have some lovely Jonsa-themed WIP Wednesday headers for Modern and Canon fic both, I’m going to share a couple of different things that have been sitting in my big Maybe file collecting dust.  (You can find the Modern AU Headers here)

I don’t see much fic of Jon having a relationship with his grandmother so that was partly what sparked the idea for this one.  Someday, I’ll get enough of it done to start posting on ao3 but here’s a good little bit of it.  

****

“I don’t know about this, Mom.  We’ve not spent much time together since I was a kid.  What do I even say to her?” Jon asked as he had the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder, searching for a clean shirt.

“Just talk. She’ll be happy you came to see her.”

“Yeah but it’s going to be awkward after about five minutes.”

“You can handle a little awkward, can’t you? You’re not a kid anymore.”

She was right. He wasn’t. He was twenty-three and a graduate student at Riverlands University. He could give an hour or two of free time to his grandmother and not whine about it being a sacrifice. “I’m going…once I find a clean shirt.”

Lyanna laughed through the phone, making him smile to hear it. “I know it’s thirty minutes away but it’ll mean so much to her, Jon. I call her here and there but you know it’s…well, it’s awkward with us.”

He knew that. How could it not be awkward? Considering the circumstances of his conception and birth and the strained relations that had arisen between more than just his mother and father, he felt his mother was quite thoughtful for even bothering to call his paternal grandmother.

Speaking of which…

“You know, she has three kids who could visit her.”

“Yeah, she does and none of them visit. Your Aunt Dany is young…”

“Barely younger than me!”

“But she’s always been her father’s daughter at heart and she still blames your grandmother for the divorce.”

“Oh, yeah because Aerys is such a gem,” he said sarcastically.

“Families are complicated, Jon.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Anyway, Viserys can’t visit.” No, his sociopath of an uncle wouldn’t be visiting his mother.  Hard to do when you’re behind bars.  “And your father…”

“Is a self-absorbed asshole who found a retirement community for his mother four hours away from where he lives.” He heard his mother’s sigh and felt guilty for dredging up hurtful things. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. You’re not wrong. She’s so excited you’re coming, Jon. I hope you can enjoy the visit, knowing that at least.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be okay. Love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

** 

Oldstones Retirement Community was not a nursing home although he’d thought of it as one. He’d pictured some old depressing building resembling a hospital with blank eggshell white walls, dingy tiled floors and musty-smelling, hospital-style rooms.

Therefore, Jon was pleasantly surprised to see it was indeed a community, a neighborhood for the elderly with rows and rows of neat individual bungalows with their own little postage stamp yards spread out in an arch around a larger one level ‘community center.’

However, in order to get a pass to enter the gated section where those bungalows were, you had to check in at the center first.

Parking out front, he walked inside the center to get his bearings, the whoosh of the automatic doors giving him a blast of air conditioning on the exceptionally warm autumn day.

He caught sight of a young woman in navy blue scrubs holding the arm of an elderly man as they walked along. Thinking she might be an employee of the center, he approached.

“Hi. I was wondering if…”

His words and his train of thought were effectively stopped in their tracks when she turned towards him with forget-me-not blue eyes and waves of auburn hair.

“Oh, hello,” she replied, a musical lilt to her voice as she looked at him expectantly.

Damn, she was beautiful. She was around his age, maybe a couple of years younger. Could she already be a nurse? Or just an assistant here? 

There was a pattern to her scrubs, cartoon characters he recognized from childhood including Wiley Wolfe. It was cute. She was stunning.

The old guy beside her cleared his throat irritably and Jon realized he was just standing there staring at her and her scrubs.  It’s not like he didn’t know how to talk to women but he felt his mouth going dry while he was drowning in those eyes of hers.

Her expectant smile began to morph into one of concern as the silence stretched on. Say something! Use your words, you idiot!

So unfortunately, Jon blurted out the first words that came to mind. “I’m here to see Gamma.” 

Those were not the words I had in mind.

The beauty’s lips twitched and Jon felt heat flooding his face. Of course, he’d fall back to what he’d called Rhaella when he’d been two (not that he’d ever stopped calling her that when it was just him and her.)

“I mean, I was looking for my grandmother.”

“Oh, well…do you know which bungalow she’s in or…”

“Reception’s over there, kid,” the old man interrupted curtly. “My granddaughter doesn’t have your gamma hiding under her top either.”

“Grandpa!”

Jon’s red face was getting redder but now.  Hers was, too.  “I wasn’t looking!” Well, his eyes had lingered on her top for a minute there. “I was just…I like the wolf bit,” he said, nodding towards her chest. “Wiley was always my favorite.”

The wolf bit?!  ‘Wiley was always my favorite?’  Gods, you are such a dumbass, he thought, rolling his eyes at himself.

The old guy with his shaggy grey beard shot through with hints of red continued to glare at him.  He had a cane and Jon wondered if he was about to use it on him.  At least, she was smiling.

“I’m sorry for assuming. I just saw the scrubs and thought…”

“No, it’s okay. I’m a nursing student, thus the scrubs.  I just came by to see my grandfather today after my classes were done.”

“Checking up on me for your mother, you mean.”

“You know I want to see you anyway, Grandpa.”

She was still smiling but there was an edge of hurt feelings in her voice, too. Jon didn’t like the idea of anyone hurting her feelings although he didn’t even know her name. Yet.

The old man took the hint though and grasped her hand. “I know, darling. Sorry. They’ll help you out at reception, kid.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“Who’re you seeing anyway?”

“Rhaella Targaryen.”

“Rhaella?” he said, his bushy eyebrows raised. “Well, that’s swell. I’m her neighbor, Hoster Tully.”

He held out his hand so Jon shook it.  “Jon Snow.” He looked hopefully towards Hoster’s granddaughter, unable to hide his grin.

“I’m Sansa Stark,” she said, shaking Jon’s hand as well, her cheeks still flushed a lovely shade of pink.  “And I’m glad you have such good taste in cartoons.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, grinning wider.  “It’s nice to meet you both.”  Especially you.

“Have a nice time with your gamma, Jon,” Hoster chuckled. Never living down that introduction then.  “The sweet shop’s open. You wanna ice cream, darling?”  

Jon smiled, thinking his grandmother would likely ask him the same question.

Sansa cocked an eyebrow at him and put a hand on her hip. “Do I want an ice cream or is it you who wants one, Grandpa?” she asked, clearly amused. 

“I’m sure you’ll be reminding me of the doctor saying to watch my sweets, huh?”

“Maybe.”

“I've been a good boy, I swear.  I also remember when you couldn’t say no to mint chocolate chip,” he added in a slightly pleading tone.

“I still struggle to say no to it,” she laughed. “Maybe they have a no-sugar alternative." 

"Blech.  Help me out here, Jon."

"I, uh..."  He looked between them both, Mr. Tully with pleading puppy dog eyes and Sansa with her hand still on her hip.  "I mean, one little scoop’s not so bad and I'll bet they have a variety of options with, um...different sizes and calories, sugar-free and...you know I've never been here before in my life, right?"

They both started laughing and he was mesmerized by the tinkling sound of Sansa's as her eyes sparkled.  

"Well, maybe we'll check out the varieties available, Grandpa," Sansa relented, giving Jon a wink.  Hot damn!  "It was nice to meet you, Jon. I hope you enjoy your visit.”

“Thanks. It was nice to meet you, too,” he replied as they continued down the hallway.

Sansa’s a pretty name. Where do you go to school? Riverlands?  Please, say Riverlands. They've got a nursing program there...I think.  Do you come here often? Can I buy you both an ice cream? Can I have your number? Do you have a boyfriend?  I really do like the wolf bit.  

Naturally, he’d think of a dozen things to say as she was walking away, not that he could say most of those things when they'd just met.

With a sigh, he headed towards the reception desk as Sansa and her grandfather disappeared from his view.

“Can I help you?” a woman wearing pink scrubs, a friendly smile and a name tag that said ‘Yaya’ on it asked.

“Yes, I’m here to see my gamma.” He groaned inwardly as her smile widened. “I mean, my grandmother. I want to visit Rhaella Targaryen.”

“Oh, Rhaella! What’s your name, honey?”

“Jon Snow.”

“Okay, Jon Snow, let’s take a look.” She opened a ledger to nearly the back page, her finger tracing downwards. “Do you have an ID on you, Jon?”

“Yeah.”

He grimaced as he pulled out his wallet. It was possible they asked this of all visitors but he had to wonder if his grandfather and uncle didn’t make this necessary for his grandmother. There was still an Order of Protection in place for his grandfather and Viserys wouldn’t be welcome lots of places, particularly around a potentially physically vulnerable population. Well, I’ll bet Old Hoster with his cane can take care of himself alright.    

Yaya looked it over and then smiled, passing him a slip of paper with a word written on it.

“Hippie?”

“Yeah, that’s the gate’s passcode.  Just use the alpha-numeric keypad to enter it and you can pull your vehicle through.”

“Okay but hippie?”

“The residents vote on it once a month.  They tend to go with something that gives them a chuckle.”

“What was last month’s?”

“Prunes.”

“No shit?”  Yaya’s eyes widened before she threw her head back and laughed.  Jon hadn’t meant to curse in front of a stranger but when he thought about the meaning there…  “Sorry,” he said, failing to stifle his answering laughter.

After they’d settled down again, Yaya asked, “Does she know you’re coming?”

“Yeah, she does.”

“Great. I know she’ll be happy to see you. She doesn’t get…” Yaya trailed off, a soft melancholy settling in her warm brown eyes.

“Many visitors, I know,” he said, shifting guiltily. He’d moved here six weeks ago. He could’ve come sooner. “I…maybe that’ll change.”

“I hope so, Jon. Have a nice visit.”

[pynkhues]

First line tag

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag some of your favorite authors!

Tagged by: @xstrawmari thank yoouuuu.

1. “No.” (C&C: To Face Unafraid)

2. She doesn’t look like her picture. (Navigate a Broken Path)

3. It goes like this: Elizabeth sneezes. (C&C: Lighthouse Man (I’m all at sea))

4. Lady Elizabeth Boland is of half a mind to retire to her chambers, despite the early hour, when she notices her grandmother’s vase is missing from the buffet in the receiving hall. (What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have)

5. It’s the smallest sound, the tiniest electronic blip, but it’s enough to slice through the fabric of sleep. Enough to make his mind whir, his heart stutter, his eyes snap open to the dark expanse of their bedroom. (C&C: In Lumine)

6. And okay. If the look on Rio’s face is anything to go by, she really needs to pull herself together. (C&C: Just Take Time)

7. “I thought we agreed to take it easy on the glitter?” (C&C: Stupid Cupid)

8. It was something his mother had said to him once – drunk off cheap merlot and good company at the party after his little cousin’s baptism – her long fingers clamped around his chin. (Need a Little Time)

9. The piano music stutters out of the record player, and her father starts to move.(Blue Moon)

10. She smells it. That’s what it always is – that first tug of it. (Cross Your Fingers)

11. She’s still trying to get the attention of the bartender over the soaring sound of the string quartet and the blink of all the other women’s jewellery (which, god, must be worth more than her house and her car combined), when she’s jostled forwards, her chest slamming into the bar in a way that briefly winds her. (Two Shoes)

12. The thing is, underneath it all, underneath the anger and the betrayal and the humiliation and the grief, when it’s all dredged from the riverbanks of her consciousness, the hardened earth of her bones, all that’s left is relief. (Show Me How to Fake It (touch me in the dark))

13. Weird thing is, the place smells like her. (Drive You Mad (wear me out))

14. He can see her through the window. (C&C: Animalia)

15. One of the first things she learns about Rio – one of the first real true things, before they’re even living together, is that he doesn’t sleep. (C&C: Cold Out There (but it’s warm in bed))

16. “And then what?” Aida asks, sitting forwards in her seat, a wide grin on her face, and Beth can’t help it, she chances a look at Rio, who’s just - - rolling his eyes, of course, but also his lips are tugging up – maybe – just a little, despite himself. (C&C: Party Popper)

17. “That’s fourteen hatchbacks sold so far, and three minivans,” Nora says, scrolling through her iPad and ticking off the orders. “Oh! Before I forget, Adam’s asking if we can get any more of the Kia Sedona’s before next week? He’s got another two potential sales.” (C&C: Friar’s Lantern)

18. “Hmmm, I don’t know if I like this,” Annie says, squinting across the backyard as Beth passes her a mug of coffee, moving to sit beside Ruby on the other outdoor setting, following her sister’s gaze out across the yard. (C&C: Louder Now, Help Me Out)

19. At least these days, she hears him. (On a Balcony with Champagne Lips)

20. “I’m just going to – ” (C&C: Break This Spell)

Welp, things I learnt from this is how often I open with a smell, hahaha.

I think my favourites are probably 4 (pirate au), 11 (Two Shoes) and 12 (pornstar au), because I think they’re good scene setters and introductions to tone, atmosphere and context.

This was really fun! It’s so interesting to look at one particular element of your writing across so many different stories like this! Thanks again for the tag! 💖

I’ve been mostly offline today at work, so I have no idea who’s been tagged, so I’m sorry if I’m doubling up, but I’m going to tag @foxmagpie @mego42 @bethsuglywigs and @septiembrre :-)

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff | Smut

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence (bloody violence), Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Additional Warnings: Actual smut (strip tease, heavy foreplay, fingering, hand job, body worship, pre-cum), allusion to kidnapping

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 4,315

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​, @shrimpmsg​​,

AN: So...this is the beginning of the end. To everyone who has faithfully followed this series from the start, I thank you. I appreciate you. It’s about to be a very bumpy ride. I’m going to go ahead and apologize in advance. I’m sorry for the hurt and pain that is coming. Please stay with me  until the end.

Chapter 48: Home

“We won’t talk but we’ll be comfortable. If only I have you, it’ll be my home.“

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Hwaseong – Gyeonggi Province South Korea

Eden smiled as she felt Jungkook wrap his heavier coat around her shoulders. Children raced past them, squealing in delight as they chased each other. One child barreled into her back, causing her to stumble forward a little. Jungkook cuffed the little boy on his head and Eden tugged at Jungkook’s ear to get him to stop. The little boy sniffled, apologizing, and Eden gave him a few bills so he could buy some snacks with his friends. Jungkook smirked, watching the little boy blush as he looked at her, bowed, and then scrambled off to be with his friends.

“You’re too easy on them,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes. “They’re just kids. Let them be kids.” Eden paused as they reached the corner of the street. “They should have that luxury, don’t you think?”

When she looked up at Jungkook, something flickered across his gaze. His brows furrowed and she immediately regretted saying what she had. Her intention hadn’t been to make him feel guilty, but he still did. Old memories were dredged up, something that they talked about in length once when they were up late watching Korean gangster movies while sharing a bottle of whiskey. They both never really got to be kids; the world forced them to grow up and deal with the adult world before they physically became adults.

It wasn’t a life either of them chose for themselves, but it wasn’t a life they regretted either. It made them who they were now. It was the life that led them to each other.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook-ah,” she said softly, “I shouldn’t have said that…”

He shook his head roughly from side to side, taking her arm and looping it through his. “No, you’re right. They should be able to run and play and rough around like they want while they can.”

She smiled, relieved to know that he felt the same way she did.

They continued down the path, passing various street stalls that sold food, clothes, and other trinkets. It was Spring and Summer would soon be approaching. Flowers were blooming and green returned to the once barren trees that lined the streets. The air was starting to warm up, but there was still that little bit of chill in the air that swept through and touched the marrow of bones.

Most women would have found coming to a back end province like Hwaseong deplorable – especially for a honeymoon getaway. But Eden insisted that this was the place she wanted to spend time with her husband – the place where he sealed away all his childhood memories; where his dreams first began.

The place where he called home.

Hwaseong was rural in most aspects, but there were industrial districts. She preferred the softer sides of his hometown, the places where all the rolling hills and lush forests flourished. It was peaceful, quiet, and a place where she could gather her thoughts. Jungkook pointed out the places that meant the most to him and she made mental notes of them; filing them away to be explored in depth later.

One by one, he went by all the places that his brothers called home. Some of their family members came out to greet them and Jungkook simply introduced Eden as his girlfriend. She didn’t mind, seeing as how they were both wearing their wedding bands as necklaces. But just for now. Eden agreed that it was better if they kept their marriage a secret, especially since tensions between the Jade Fangs and the former Golden Jackals had the potential to escalate. It was the safer and smarter way to go about things. Jimin was the only one who knew and they would keep it that way until everything finally settled down.

As each day passed, she was able to see the lake where he first met the others – the ones he called his brothers. They were all children back then, playing around the Han River in their underwear and throwing rocks at the lake while fishing. He took her to the orphanage that cared for him until he was old enough to get a job and go to school. As painful as it must have been, Jungkook even showed her the home he used to live in with his parents before they threw him away. A different family lived there now.

Everything was a precious memory, good and bad, and Eden tucked them away without judgment.

They returned to the hotel, deciding to order takeout and have it brought to their room. Lavish as their lodgings were, it seemed a bit silly, seeing as how Hwaseong became a bit of a tourist trap in recent years. It gave the community a chance to build something expansive and eye-catching, grabbing at the ankles of wealthy tourists to come and spend their money on pricey hotel suites and cheap souvenirs boasting ancient history in the inner square’s markets.

But it was the little things that counted.

After they finished eating, Eden began washing dishes in the sink of the suite’s kitchen. As she placed a few on the drying rack, she felt Jungkook approach her from behind. He slid his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as she continued to work. She smiled when he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck and she wiggled a little, his fringe tickling her cheek.

“Let’s go back to Seoul tomorrow,” he said suddenly, lacing his fingers together across her stomach.

She rinsed off a plate, intent on focusing on the task at hand. “Why? I thought we were staying here for a few more days?” Eden pouted, casting a sidelong glance at him. “Are we cutting the honeymoon short?”

She understood if it needed to be done. Sometimes work couldn’t be avoided. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.

Jungkook laughed, pressing his mouth to her temple. “No, we’re not.” He reached up to brush some of her hair behind her ear. “I actually have another surprise for you.”

“You and your surprises,” Eden muttered, unable to hide the tiny smirk that appeared.

“Trust me,” he whispered, “you’ll love it.”

Seoul – Itaewon; Yongsan District South Korea

“Uh, Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

“What is this?”

“What is what?”

Eden turned to look at Jungkook, seeing the look of pride all but explode over his face. He was practically beaming and he took a moment to meet her gaze. Eden blinked up at him, then craned her neck to look back at the large house surrounded by a thicket of private trees. There was a small stairwell that led up to the front door, a small awning perched from the siding of the slate walls. A large front deck wrapped around the house, a two-story home that boasted modern features with a hint of traditional landscaping.

She pointed to the house – her finger aimed at the large window on the second floor.

“This,” she said again, “what is this?”

“A house,” he said, amusement laced through his words, “our house.”

Whipping her head to look at him. She could see no trace of a lie or even a tease. “Excuse me, what?”

Laughing, Jungkook grabbed her by the hand and tugged her along – pulling her up the short set of steps while rustling around for a set of keys. Slipping it into the door, he twisted the key and ushered her inside. Eden was only barely able to get her shoes off as he helped her into a pair of house slippers.

“I’ll get an electronic lock installed later. I just couldn’t wait to show this to you.”

She had no words. Even if she had, Eden was positive they would have tumbled to the floor in a meaningless collection of jargon she wouldn’t have been able to understand. Everything was brand new. The floor was made of polished hardwood, the furniture sleek and modern. Only the throw pillows were unfashionable as they sported various characters from anime that Eden liked – a large Princess Mononoke throw blanket draped across the back of the large couch in the living room.

Eden took a few steps forward, her eyes darting in every direction to take everything in. The kitchen was large, sporting a marble island with stools around it. Large windows allowed for natural light to flood the rooms, showing off the view of the front and side gardens. A huge flat screen television decorated the wall near an ornate entertainment center – a fireplace nestled in the corner with freshly cut logs near the hearth to be used during the colder months.

Turning to look at Jungkook, she didn’t have time to speak before he was already scooping her into his arms and carrying her up the stairs.

“We can explore the rest of the house tonight,” he said, leaning in to press his lips along the shell of her ear, “but there’s one place I want us to go.”

Eden felt her cheeks getting warmer. She knew the look in his eyes and understood what his intentions were. So it didn’t come as a surprise to her when he pushed open a door with his shoulder to reveal a large master bedroom. Without wasting a moment more, Jungkook set her down so her feet hit the floor, his lips moving to capture hers in a heated kiss. She moaned unconsciously into his mouth, her hands moving to rest on his shoulders as he hurriedly popped the buttons of her jeans loose.

His large hands moved to all but tear the hoodie from her, pulling it up and over her head so that it landed on the floor without a second glance. She tried to say something – anything – but the words were lost as he kissed her; his tongue slipping in between her lips to brush along her canines. Eden took a step back, her calf hitting the edge of the bed and she nearly stumbled backwards. Jungkook caught her by the waist, his hands warm against her skin. His fingers pressed into her waist, curling into the waistband of her jeans and she felt her breath hitch when he knocked his hips against hers. She could feel his erection through his pants, and she squeezed her thighs together a little bit tighter – attempting to get friction where she needed it most.

Jungkook’s kiss grew a bit more feverish, a hand moving from her waist to trail up her exposed back. Eden felt her skin pepper out in goosebumps – chasing the path that his hand made along her skin. Pausing to rest at the nape of her neck, Eden can’t help the sigh that managed to escape – lost in the cavern of his mouth. She tilted her head slightly, trying to get at his mouth at a better angle. But he chose that moment to break the kiss, trailing his mouth along the column of her neck. She felt his body almost vibrate as she reached out to pull at his shirt, yanking it free from his pants.

She felt his hand moving from the back of her neck, his fingers slowly clambering up to thread through her hair. His other hand was still at her hip and she could feel him tracing small circles around her skin before dipping below the waistband of her panties. Eden gasped softly as the sound of her zipper sliding down seemed to ricochet off the walls.

Jungkook broke the kiss again, moving a step back so he could slowly sink to the floor to his knees while taking her pants with him. He urged her to step out of them completely when they were bunched around her ankles and she complied, her legs trembling when he pressed his lips along her inner thigh. A hand slid down to the crown of his head, carding through his hair. Delicate hands moved to caress along her skin, finally smoothing over the curves of her thighs and then gripping onto her panties. He dragged them down, his lips giving chase to the material as he let it fall to her ankles.

Without having to be told, Eden stepped out of them as well.

Clad in just her bra, she felt overly exposed in a way that felt a little embarrassing. It was still broad daylight and Jungkook was being shamelessly intimate. The curtains weren’t drawn over the windows and while she knew the home was nestled in their own private sanctuary, Eden felt like someone was watching her; like they were being watched. It was a weird kink that she never believed she could properly give a voice to, but Jungkook indulged her whenever he could.

Licking a trail up her body, he paused just long enough to press his lips atop the swell of her breasts. He reached behind her, unhooking her bra and she let it fall to the ground. It, too, would be forgotten until it was deemed fit to be remembered.

Eden pouted as he smiled down at her, his eyes full of dark arousal. She could tell he was holding himself back a measure and she lightly smacked him on the chest with the back of her hand. His eyes crinkled in the corners, his gaze softening as he looked back at her.

“I’m the only one naked,” she murmured, “no fair.”

Reaching out to grasp one of her hands, he moved so that it now rested along the center of his chest. She could feel the heavy thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palm and he quirked a brow at her. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to ask her.

“Then make it fair,” he replied, his voice low and raspy.

Eden couldn’t keep the look of surprise and amusement from dancing over her face. She bit her lower lip, her hands moving to undo each button before shoving the material back and off his shoulders. He shrugged out of the shirt, shaking his hands so he was free of the material. Eden immediately went to his belt, pulling the leather through the loops of his jeans and then dropping it to the floor.

She could admit she wasn’t nearly as patient as her husband and he laughed, watching her popping the button of his jeans loose while frantically pulling at the zipper. His hands moved to still over hers and he lifted her easily off the floor. Eden wriggled when she felt him kissing her stomach, laughing as he tossed her onto the bed.

She cooed softly as he slid out of his jeans and boxers in one swift motion. His shaft twitched in response to him drinking her in. She could see his pupils dilating as he climbed over her like a predator about to devour his prey. His hands slid between her thighs to press along her folds, feeling the slickness that escaped from how heavy her own arousal was. Moaning at his touch, Eden tried to move away from him, but he wouldn’t give her any quarter. Instead, he lowered his head to capture an exposed nipple between his lips.

Pleasure exploded over her skin and she nearly bucked from his finger pressing against the sensitive nub between her legs. He rubbed agonizingly slow circles around it before dipping into her slit to caress at her inner walls. In the haze of her lust, she could see the milky white fluid beading at the slit of his tip. She wanted to taste it but her selfish desire was knocked clean from her mind when he slid another finger into her.

Her hips lifted, pushing his digits further inside of her. Jungkook moved his face to lavish affection to the other nipple. He pumped his fingers in and out of her, his thumb continuing to rub circles over her clit. Electric shocks exploded behind her eyes and he lifted his face to catch her mouth in an open-mouthed kiss. Sucking on her tongue, Eden closed her eyes and moaned – unsure how much longer she was going to be able to handle this assault against her entire person.

As if he’d read her mind, Jungkook removed his fingers from her folds. Eden whined, shocked at her internal outrage to being deprived of her own pleasure. She watched Jungkook using her juices to coat his erection, his hand slowly stroking over himself. He gripped the base of the shaft and she felt herself getting wetter just watching him. After a moment of this, he straddled her hips – positioning himself as he pressed the tip of his erection against her clit. Again, she hissed in pleasure, feeling her walls growing more and more slick as he teased her folds.

“My god,” Jungkook whispered, “you’re beautiful.”

“Jungkook-ah…”

“You’re my wife.” He smiled down at her. “How did I get so lucky?”

Eden felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She laughed softly, not caring that they leaked out and into her ears. Jungkook leaned down to press a kiss to her mouth, his lips moving along the curve of her jaw until he caressed the lobe of her ear.

“I love you,” he said softly, pressing the head of his erection into her entrance. She sucked in air between her teeth as he inched forward a little bit more. “I love you so much, Eden.”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer. “I love you too, Jungkook.”

As if those were the words he’d been waiting for, he pushed himself forward completely – filling her insides. Her walls clamped down around him instinctively, holding him in place. As he pushed and pulled against her, the friction created was almost jarring. The pace was slow at first, but it didn’t take Jungkook long to speed things up. Eden rocked her hips against his, rising to meet his as he came down along her. There were wet, sloppy sounds of skin slapping against skin and it didn’t take long for their sweat-soaked skin to glide over each other with each hurried pulse of their movements.

And then he hit that spot; the spot that drove her half-mad. The spot that almost always left her fucked out of her head. Eden dug her nails into his skin, leaving half-moon marks along his muscles. She dragged her fingers down, red angry trails chasing after her fingernails before she clamped onto his forearms. He was practically jack-hammering into her, reaching his own favored spot, until she was seeing stars from the orgasm that began to overtake her. Her voice started off low until it soon escalated to a scream; one that she was almost positive rattled the windows. Jungkook wasn’t far behind her, her name bellowing from his lungs.

Heat filled her core, spreading over her entire body. She felt Jungkook shift his body slightly, collapsing beside her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, still buried inside of her, and pulled her close so that she was nestled perfectly against his form. He whispered words of love into her ear and Eden was barely conscious enough to hear them. But not before she was able to tell him that she loved him back.

They’d made a mess over their brand-new bed; their new bedding.

Neither of them cared.

Five Months Later

“I’m proud of you, y’know that?”

Eden smiled while rolling her eyes at the phone situated on the nightstand. Raelyn smirked back at her on the screen. They’d been Face Timing each other since Jungkook left for work in the morning. He had a few errands to run and she was leaving the shop in Minki’s hands. Eden folded a few more items on the bed, organizing them, and then placed the clothes into the small suitcase.

“I’m serious. This is pretty gutsy of you and I’m glad you’re doin’ it.”

After she threw the small plastic bag of toiletries on top of the clothes, she moved to sit on the bed. She picked up the phone and flopped back onto the bed.

“I know,” she said with a sigh, “I’m just a little nervous, I guess.”

“Don’t be. I mean, do be, but don’t let that shake you up.” She watched Raelyn’s brows furrow. “They know you’re comin’, right? You’re not just showing up unannounced?”

Again, Eden rolled her eyes. “Yes, they know I’m coming.”

Raelyn held a hand up. “Look, I’m just makin’ sure, alright?” She paused and Eden lofted a brow. “I’m a little surprised they agreed to this.”

She scoffed, clambering off the bed. “Like they have a choice. From what I was able to find out, I’m the only child my mother ever had before she died. I’m sure they’re just as curious about me as I am about them.”

She still didn’t know why she was doing this. Part of her wanted to call the whole thing off. It wasn’t like things were going to change by doing this. Seeing her mother’s family, the people who treated her like the black sheep of their bloodline, only angered Eden. But she also knew that she couldn’t abandon them. Not until she really got to see them for who they truly were. After that, she would make her decision on whether to continue having them circulating around her life.

“Well, when you get there, you show them exactly who the hell you are and that you ain’t playin’ any games.”

Eden couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “I think you should be more worried about that little troublemaker growing inside of you, don’t you?”

“Girl, don’t get me started,” Raelyn said, the bitter tone evident in her voice, “between Anastasia’s mood swings and Taehyung being my damn shadow, I don’t have time to get into anything stupid.”

She closed the suitcase and secured the locks, picking it up and unlatching the extended handle. Eden made her way out of the bedroom and headed downstairs, the suitcase rolling behind her as she continued to hold the phone up in front of her.

“Good,” she said once she made it to the ground floor, “because I don’t need to be working my nerves while I’m on this trip. They’re frayed as it is.”

This time Raelyn scoffed. “You’ll be fine. Is Jungkook takin’ you to the train station?”

“No. He’s busy with work and I told him not to worry about it.”

“Three days, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Though depending on how the trip goes, I may come back early.”

“I heard Daegu is beautiful this time of year. Make sure you take a lot of pictures.”

“I will, I will,” Eden reassured. She opened the front door and closed it behind her, the electronic lock beeping to let her know it was secured. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

“Alright. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Hanging up the call, she pulled up her messages. She shot Jungkook a quick text to let him know she was heading to the train station. Eden knew he was busy at the recording studio and didn’t want to interrupt him while he worked.

Jungkook: Be safe. Call me as soon as you’ve arrived. I love you.

Smiling, she sent him a heart emoji. She was never a big fan of texting and he knew that about her. He never nagged her about it. Eden was a woman who believed that actions spoke louder than words. She’d always been this way. She was thankful that Jungkook understood and accepted this – always willing to meet her halfway.

He sent her two heart emojis back.

Making her way toward the front gate, Eden pushed it open and pulled her suitcase behind her. She turned to close the gate, tugging at the bars to make sure the latch caught properly. Checking her watch, she saw she had plenty of time to get to the train station.

Maybe I should call him anyway, she thought, moving to head down the long walkway leading from the house.

Eden managed to take a few steps forward before someone stepped in front of her. The heels of her sneakers scuffed along the ground as she stopped, lifting her head to see who was blocking her path. He looked a little familiar, but she wasn’t quite sure from where. Blinking a few times, she watched the other man’s small smile growing little by little.

She didn’t have time for this. Maybe she was mistaken.

“Excuse me,” she said through clenched teeth, moving so she could side-step him. He shifted to resume blocking her path. Eden shot him a glare. “Move.”

“You’re still as feisty as ever, I see,” he said. She said nothing, narrowing her eyes. “I know it’s been awhile, but I’m a little hurt you don’t remember me.”

“Should I?”

The man lifted his hand in the air, miming holding a shot glass. He made a motion to show he was tipping the glass back into his mouth. Eden scrutinized him a moment longer and he merely continued to smile.

And then it hit her.

“You,” she growled, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Yoo Kihyun.”

He snapped his fingers. “Bingo.”

Eden reached into her pocket. “What do you want?”

He shrugged. “Isn’t it obvious?” When his eyes met hers, they were dark and cold. It caused Eden to hesitate for just a moment. “It’s you.”

That moment of hesitation was her undoing. She failed to notice the look of triumph painted over his face. She’d missed the sound of movement behind her. And before she could register that she was being ambushed, Eden felt a sharp prick to the back of her neck. 

It didn’t take long. If given the chance, she would have only been able to count to five.

Five seconds before the world went dark.

[janumun]

Blood Calls

Pairing: Lucien/MC

Rated: NSFW/18+

Tags: porn with plot, religious themes (Lucien as a priest), mystery/murder, death, use of guns, Halloween themes, vampire AU, hate (?) sex, oral and vaginal sex, biting, blood.

Words: 5029

A/N: Third entry into the ‘Night Chant’ series and it’s Lucien, finally. 

As usual, this work can be read as a stand-alone fic and holds no bearing over other chapters within the series. Happy reading!

Random Note: While this is still technically reader insert, I’ve customized her this time to be a WOC and honestly, it helped me go deeper with her as a character, being Asian myself. Been wanting to try this out for a while. No explicit drawing of attention to her ethnicity, just allusions, but it’s there.

Summary: 

When gruesome, unexplained murders start cropping up within the purported peaceful town of Loveland, a certain "greenie" officer has but one suspect on her list: the Local Church's resident pastor, Lucien Xu. She's not about to let him evade the clutches of justice that easy. But will exploring the town's eerie history dredge up revelations she might never be quite ready for? 

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She stared at the gash across the woman’s throat, wide gaping maw on its own; a second mouth. Blood long dried and crusted across her wrinkled skin.

Poor girl, lost so young. Perhaps not much older than a teen. She put her hands together, uttering a short prayer before she pulled on her gloves and a face mask, the bare minimum she had been provided with, before disturbing evidence, looking around for further clues around the body.

They had received reports late last night, their local department having been informed only after 5am and as usual, they had sent her out first, to be on scene.

Wiping the sweat from her brow as she finished placing the last of the evidence into clean plastic bags, she carefully sealed them off before standing up to leave. An ambulance had yet to arrive. Perhaps they had gotten lost, owing to the extensive tunnel-like alleys this town was home to. Perfect, dark places for murder.

The sharp clack of shoes against asphalt drew her notice. She turned around to face the new arrival, words of greeting already starting to tumble from her lips –

“Hi, thanks for coming by so fast, the body’s…”

She faltered, eyes taking in the stranger, so out of place within the dreary alley. Dark robes of God that surely belonged in a Church, perhaps behind a lectern during sermons. The chained cross against his chest seemed to gleam ominously in the pre-dawn light as he took a step closer.

“Hi there.” The tall priest greeted casually, genial smile spreading across his lips as he took her in, just as she was doing.

A scrutiny. The man’s gaze was far from casual as it swept across her attire before settling onto her face. “I’m Lucien. From the Loveland Local Church?”

“I gathered,” she remarked, dryly and not without caution. “What are you doing here, Father?”

He chuckled at the question as if he were the one who found her odd and not the other way around. “You’re new, I see.”

“Perhaps. Who are you?” The man’s attitude was starting to get on her nerves.

A priest out in the middle of nowhere, within a deserted alley, where a murder had been committed, no less. She would have been an idiot to not be wary of him.

“Forgive my rudeness, Officer. I could simply not resist pulling a new youngling’s leg, if you would excuse me.”

Huh. A priest who liked to… joke. Couldn’t say she had ever come across one as eccentric as this one.

He rummaged around in the satchel he carried, pulling out an admittance card. She took the proffered card, checking it over carefully.

She recalled hearing something about this. The Loveland Local Police Department loved involving the Church in matters of unnatural deaths, if any occurred.  To send the departed soul in peace, or some other bull, she recalled with great distaste. Involving people of religion, most of whom were merely un-trained civilians, in matters best left to professionals, no wonder the crime rate in this dingy town was as high as it was.

“Newly deported from the city. Joined the Loveland Task Force as an ‘intermediary’ just a week ago.” She introduced herself at last, out of obligation, flashing her own badge at him.

Lucien’s eyes briefly swiveled towards her badge before fixating on hers again. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Officer.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” She took his proffered hand in a firm shake before letting go.

The priest came to stand next to hers, looking down at the newest victim, palms coming together in supplication, eyes falling shut as he uttered a soft prayer for her soul. Once he was finished, he turned towards her once more.

“The ambulance is out up front and I believe I saw a couple of your department officers as well.”

“Very well then. Shall we?” She asked politely, gesturing towards the exit with a sweep of her arm, indicating that they leave. Together.

Her smile was courteous enough but her eyes told Lucien she would brook no argument.

And hence, with a polite smile of his own, Lucien walked away on unhurried steps, the detective following cautiously after.

.

Four weeks in and her division was faced with another murder. Two in less than a month. And yet, her chief refused to bring her suspect in for questioning, turning deaf ears on each and every circumstantial evidence she talked of and presented at meetings; all her information seeming to point to one man: Lucien Xu.

“There’s something about him that doesn’t sit right with me…” She murmured to her colleague, Officer Gavin, as the two of them pored over the documents together, big slashes of red inked across the pages, highlighting each and every similar incident that had occurred within the town, surprisingly dating as far back as 60 years into the town’s 200 year old history.

They weren’t incidents that stood out at first glance, random patterns of killings smattered across the years, all methods, varied and victims unrelated. However, if there was one thing that stood out to her, it was how most of the murders had taken place in dark, deserted alleys, an abundance of which this place seemed to have.

They had all also occurred well into the night, ranging anywhere within a time frame of 10pm and 3pm.

10pm was when the local church ended its final service for the day.

It was also the time she had often seen Lucien Xu retiring to his house, situated well within the vicinity of the church, where most of the murders had taken place.

Her eyes traveled to other notes she had taken, haphazard memos of how forensics had drawn up a basic profile of the killer: young man anywhere within his early twenties to late thirties, tall and well-built enough to stab someone with the ferocity the murderer had demonstrated on his victims.

None of the other people of the Church were young folks, many of them men, well headed into ripe, white haired age.

And the one private fact she had taken note of, one she hadn’t shared with the chief in-charge who refused to listen to her either way: the scent of the murderer left on both crime scenes, vague and barely there but she had recognized it: woody and warm, slightly pungent, the scent of burned Myrrh.

The scent she had caught on Lucien’s clothes the first time they had met, mixed in with something else, something she couldn’t yet place her finger on.

A rap of knuckles against her forehead brought her back to the present. “Don’t think so much, dummy. You’ll burn yourself out.”

“Yeah, you’re right, sorry Gavin,”

Gavin’s impassive face stretched into the hint of a smile before it vanished just as sudden. Placing a warm, hesitant hand on her head, he spoke. “Best get off work now, its past 9 already.”

She turned a quick eye towards the clock before nodding, gathering her things into her bag. “I think I’ll take your advice, after all.”

Gavin flashed her a suspicious look but she was already ducking out of her booth, striding towards the exit on swift steps, his voice echoing at her back. “Don’t be reckless and go straight home, you hear me?”

That was one thing not on her agenda tonight.

Because there was something she hadn’t confided, even in Gavin. All murders had taken place on nights of full moons.

It was a full moon out tonight.

.

Fingers tapping impatiently on the steering, she turned her wrist for the umpteenth time that night to note the time on her watch. A minute to 10.

And like clockwork, there he was, emerging from the entrance to the chapel, the man she had sought after for the entirety of her duration in this town.

Distrustful eyes followed the pastor as he made his way in a direction opposite of his house, a route that she happened to know also lead into one of the many mazes of backstreets across town.

I’ll get you now.

She stumbled in her haste to get out, lest she lose him to the darkness of the night.

The moon had decided to take cover behind thick swatches of clouds, stealing the advantage of sight out of her grasp; but it also provided her cover as she slinked, cautiously keeping to the shadows and well away as she tailed him, farther and farther away from the church.

Where are you headed this late at night, Father?

She could glimpse buildings up ahead of them, their tall, dark shadows, overhanging and ominous on a night where there was no wind and all was quiet, the good folks having long retired into their cozy homes.

She shivered at the thought, the cold air hitting her exposed skin as she thought of her warm bunk back at the precinct. It was a far cry from comfortable housing but it was a roof over her head. Nothing else really mattered.

Ahead of her, Lucien ducked out of sight, so sudden, she blinked, once, twice before breaking into a sprint, rounding the corner he had, only a while ago.

Emptiness and silence greeted her on the deserted street.

She whirled around in place, frantic eyes trying to spot any place a man could have secreted himself into but no, there was no place in sight, the street leading forwards into a blind end, the shops on either sides of it, sealed and shuttered.

Her heart beat faster now, her mind playing a slideshow of several other dead bodies. No. She couldn’t let her gory visions come true, not when she was this close to finding the truth.

She moved to turn back the way she had come, ready to retrace her steps, intending to check around a few surrounding alleys before her steps faltered.

Quiet. It was too quiet all of a sudden. Not the cool stillness of the night that had permeated just moments ago, but a stifling sort of silence, a chill, one that made the hair on her arms stand on end, her blood freezing over in her veins.

Her hand moved towards her gun, fingers just curling around its grip before something hit into her shoulder, so hard, she heard the cracking of bones before she went crashing to the asphalt, crying out at the intense pain, the heat, that shot down her arm.

Writhing on the ground, she lifted her head to take note of her assailant: a man, tall and overbearing, his smile a macabre slash of white across darkness as he took her in, splayed out on the floor in pain.

It wasn’t Lucien.

“A police woman,” the man uttered, scorn and distaste palpable in his foreign voice, lecherous eyes raking down her body. “The police here sure are dumb enough to send a slip of a thing such as yourself after a ‘dangerous’ murderer.”

“Rejoice then, girl. You have the special privilege of being my victim tonight. I shall make sure not a single drop of your blood goes to waste. Doesn’t that make you feel special?” Shadenfreude madness took the man’s features as he swooped to crouch down next to her, staring at her as if –

As if she were food.

The thought, unbidden, sent a chill down her spine, cold sweat starting to mark its path on her forehead, from the pain, the overwhelming fear of impending doom.

She was about to die.

But not without a fight.

Struggling to concentrate through the haze of lancing pain, she tried to fasten her grip on the firearm, shaking fingers trying to coil around the trigger, but the man noticed, eyes narrowing darkly.

“What do you think you’re –“

Finding the strength through an adrenaline rush alone, she swerved her arm to bring the barrel of the gun against his temple in a sickening crack, his head turning on its side at the impact.

Scurrying out from underneath him, she winced through the scream that wanted to crawl out of her throat with each deliberate, terrible movement.

“Bitch, you think I’d let you get away with that?!”

Iron grip coming around her ankle to yank her back, she yelled then, kicking at his hand with the sole of her free boot, hard enough to hear the bones grind and creak within his wrist but the man didn’t even flinch this time.

What sort of monster was he?

Cocking the gun his way as she was dragged across the unforgiving asphalt, rocks and grime tearing at her clothes and skin, she shot, right into his chest.

The man stopped moving.

Long enough to look down at the wound, blood blooming freely across his shirt, staining it black within the pitch blackness of the night, before he looked up at her with such unadulterated hate and rage, her breath caught in her throat at the shuddering panic and terror that wrought its way through, trying to make itself known. She gritted her teeth against the urge to break down, getting to her feet on wobbly steps while the man was distracted with the wound on his chest.

She did not know who or what the man – this monster – was but if she could get away long enough to contact someone, or call for help. She ran across the street as fast as her shuddering legs would carry her, looking back at the perpetrator time and again, to see him still kneeling in the dirt, clutching at his chest.

Was it working? Had she…?

Her line of thought was cut short, a horrible pain shooting through her scalp as a hand came around to curl into her hair, wrenching her head back so hard she felt it would dislocate, or she would faint first, from the inundating agony that took her and she screamed, loud enough to drown out the man’s frenzied laughter before his teeth… his fangs, sank into the flesh of her extended neck, rough and animalistic, drawing another shriek of suffering.

A vampire. The thought hit her, as surreal as the existence of the man behind her who sucked at her blood.

Impossible, she thought as she sunk to her knees underneath his weight, his mouth draining her very life source; she felt her heart slow and give, progressively pulling her into Death’s embrace before –

Someone pulled Death off of her.

“That’s enough,” a seemingly uninflected voice called, but she sensed the underlying chill in it, enough to freeze one’s heart over, an intonation that sounded so discordantly out of place within a voice she had heard greet her, only in polite and kind tonality in the past.

Her limp body fell against the hard cement of the path, even as his name left her unfeeling lips on a silent gasp.

Lucien.

Surely, he had not heard her, but he turned towards her nonetheless, taking in her pitiful state, even as he calmly, cleanly ripped the head off of the violently struggling beast in his grasp, the man’s body falling lifeless to the ground at his feet.

“I am not ready to lose you yet.” She thought she heard him speak. Everything seemed to be so far away, like she was viewing the world through a pinhole, not quite there but not quite gone.

He walked towards her on slow, casual steps before crouching to the ground beside her prone form.

He had saved her. She had been terribly wrong about him. She should at least thank him and say sorry before she left this world.

Try as she might, she couldn’t find the strength in her lips to move, opting to stare at him, silent will burning the last of its course in her eyes.

“To have tailed me, all on your own, trying to take on a beast when you should have run as soon as you were attacked. It’s like you were trying to get yourself killed, foolish girl.” His voice was a harsh, low whisper, his face a mask of quiet, simmering anger, so at odds with the smile he had on plastered, all the other times she had met him.

“Do you wish to live?” He asked of her. She thought he asked of her and she nodded without much thought. Of course she did. She wanted to live. But… she couldn’t.

“Very well, then.”

Lucien’s eyes suddenly seemed very red, fiercely so, against the black of night, flashing as they moved to take her wrist in hand, biting into the flesh, just as she twitched, her final response of shock to his true reveal.

He, too, was –

He reached for the cross at his chest, slicing his palm open with the sharpened tip of it, before moving to settle his cupped palm against her lips, drops of blood, burning into her mouth as they fell. “Drink,” was all he commanded.

He frowned when he saw she couldn’t, almost in the lap of Death.

Lucien’s darkening features and his face moving closer; his mouth was the last sight she saw before her eyes finally slid shut onto emptiness.

Something soft and yielding pressed against her lips, wetness brushing into her mouth, carrying on it, poison that consumed all at once.

She felt herself die.

.

.

Her throat burned. Seared a restless, unbearable hunger across her gullet, her hands coming up in a twist around her throat, squeezing, in an effort to make it go away.

She needed… needed something so bad it ached, hurt where the venom burned her tongue, her stomach. She needed, food… water… no, neither.

Eyes flying open on a gurgling groan ripped from her, she clawed at the sheets, clawed at the single slip of her clothing, bare legs desperate for an anchor, to heel.

Wild eyes swiveled across the room; dark, the only source of illumination from the purplish ominous glow of a lamp.

Creatures, animals, skulls, lined the walls of the place, like a scene straight out of the stage for a horror film and she whimpered soundlessly, her frenzied mind searching for a stronghold.

Before settling on the dark, leaning outline of him. He nursed a coupe in hand, the liquid within so unappetizingly dark, her stomach churned at the sight, but somehow, she wanted it. It smelled… good.

How? How could she tell? Her mind was a fuzzy, stormy static as if it could not make sense of all these signals it was getting, obvious images that refused to settle in place and form one definite, interpretable picture.

The smile on Lucien’s face – the same she had seen on that day – only darker, more sinister, flashed wider in the face of her increasing panic and parched throat, as she slowly, unsteadily swung her legs off of the bed she had been laid on, hungry eyes taking note of the way his tongue slinked out to lick at his canines, sharp; the edge of his mouth.

“Do you want some as well?” He asked pleasantly, raising the glass in question.

Her eyes refused to drift away from his face, however, ignoring the proffered cup as she lurched towards him on rocky steps, twitching fingers half extending towards him before she stopped, right in front of him; bleary eyes upturned to notice how he looked at her.

Observing.

Her fingers hesitated for only but a moment before they settled against his shoulders, promptly pulling the neck of his sweater down to leave tempting skin exposed.

Her breaths grew harsher, rattling on their way out of her as she picked on the sweet scent of pulsations, just underneath his skin, hot, calling: blood.

She whimpered at the sickening realization that one word brought her, weakly shaking her head at the sight of his prominent vessel, just within reach, nonsensical sounds leaving her at how it beckoned her.

What was happening to her?

Cool palm - the same he had slit open, she noticed belatedly – unblemished, unharmed, seated itself against the hotness of her cheek, stroking. “It’s alright. It’s only natural to desire blood, especially after being turned.”

She stared up at him, confusion, alarm and horror whizzing through her head at a dizzying pace, too fast to keep up.

“You asked me to save your life, and I did,” he answered in response to her unspoken query. “Surely, a life as a Creature of the Night is preferable to death. Or would you deign to disagree with me, Officer?”

Creature of the Night. Dead. Blood.

“Am I – Am I a… have you turned me into a monster?” She managed to spill out at last, lips trembling with each horrified word.

He let out a low, short laugh. “A monster? You hurt me, Officer. Are you trying to insinuate that I’m a monster?” He loomed over her now, suddenly large, terrifying, eyes flashing the red of blood spilled. Stolen.

“Look at me, I’m your savior,” His unsympathetic tone softened. “Come now, before you kill yourself with starvation, drink.”

The same command as before, when she had lain there on the ground, dying. A fact that now seemed to have taken place so long ago. But this time, there was a sort of compulsion to his voice, a command she could not refute.

And so she sank, thankful, relief flowing through her as she yanked down his collar. Seeking lips parted as they fitted themselves to the crook of his neck, fangs sliding out of her gums, burrowing themselves into him. Ravenous hunger, and then bone deep satiety hit her, the sweet, sweet scent of his blood, his flavor filling her mouth in a burst of heat so delectable; she drank and drank till the ache abated into fresh satisfaction within her very marrow.

She jerked herself away from him with a start, panting the breath back into lungs that no longer needed air to survive. Lucien’s hand traveled to his neck, thumb wiping at the messy wound she had left, before sucking it into his mouth.

The sight sent another wave of desire through her, this time different, familiar, and far more vehement than anything she had ever experienced before.

“You want me,” Lucien sounded unusually tickled, as if he could read her as easy as if she were an open book, coveting hands reaching to pull her back to him, hungry mouth crashing down onto hers in an unforgiving kiss.

She moaned into his mouth, grip weak against him as she fisted the cloth at his forearms, trying to push him off, pull him close, it didn’t make sense to her, this – this overwhelming thirst to subjugate herself to this man, this one man who had her so enslaved she couldn’t think straight.

Lucien suckled at her tongue, pulling it to play, into his mouth, swirling around her in ways that left her gasping and shaking for more.

He pulled off of her at last with a smack, the pink of his tongue darting out to lick at the wetness she had left behind on his lips, her desire flaring uncomfortably high, at his erotic display.

“Father… you… what is…”

Brushing gentle palms against her cheeks, holding her kind but firm in his grasp, his thumbs brushed, soothing against her cheekbones, calling her to calm. “It’s alright. It is natural to want your Sire, the one who brought you back to life.” A not so benevolent smile spread across his face then. “You could have me, if you wished. Right here, now. I’d grant your heart’s desires.”

She stared, shell shocked at him, for a few short, long, moments, a throb beginning low within her stomach, coiling, curling until it threatened to overflow.

She curled her fingers into the front of his sweater, pulling him down into a wet, sloppy kiss of her own. Tongue licking at his lips, diving past his lips, curving into his mouth, sucking; she felt Lucien’s smile as it stretched across his lips in a smug show of victory.

Pushing him off, she swiped her thumb across her own mouth, eyes burning with lust as they swept across him. “What have you done to me, Father Lucien?”

The question more rhetoric than anything, her mouth descended, ravenous, nibbling and sucking at the flesh of his strong jaw, down onto his neck, lapping at his skin, the taste of it so addictive, she never wanted to surface. Running her tongue flat against the wound she had left on his neck, she whimpered when the stray catches of blood settled on her tongue, saccharine and luscious.

Her free hand snaked in between their bodies, roughly palming his cock above his pants, pressing. She wrenched herself away, delirious eyes meeting his in a silent question, earning herself a simper.

“Please. Suck at me all you like, my sweet, silly Officer,” he uttered the filth, such a dizzying contrast to his generous smile, it sent her mind into bewlidered thoughts of its own.

Sliding down his body, hands following the shape of his ribs, the sides of his abdomen, tracing the angle of his hips before they settled at his zipper.

Almost yanking him out in impatience, she flinched when he hit her cheek, heavy within her grasp, with his own need, for her.

She swallowed at the sight of him. Taking only a moment to affirm his willingness - Lucien readily flashing her an encouraging, devious smile - she opened her mouth, taking him in as deeply as she could, moaning at the sensation of his taste, his girth filling her.

It was as if a switch had been flipped within, all her carnal interests in the man, heightened and exploded, once he had “sired” her.

It was as if something within compelled her to seek him out, his blood, his body, his heart.

It was a far cry from an unpleasant sensation, rather, she craved it, but it was so strange; to want a man she was so sure she had disliked and mistrusted, from the very beginning.

To be on her knees as she sucked him off, the propulsion of his hips brutal and unrelenting as if he sought to impale himself within her, possessive hands on either side of her head. Lucien jerked into her, his cock digging deep into her throat and she relished how he stifled her.

And when he came undone into her, hot and bitter and exquisite, she took him in, all of him, swallowing down what he offered.

He pulled her off of him, with a yank at her hair, still rough but only enough for the pain to be pleasurable as it stung sweet, at her scalp.

Lucien crouched down next to her, thumb coming up to smear his release across her lips, before he brought his mouth to hers, tongue licking her clean.

He pushed her down onto the rug beneath, palms aggressively parting her knees, till she lay open for him, the space in between her legs visible for him to peruse as he wished. He yanked off her soaked panties, ripping them to shreds, before he pushed three fingers into her, all at once, making her arch into him, groaning into the night’s stillness. “More than ready,” he commented on a sigh of approval before pushing himself into her on one swift stroke.

Not giving her the time to adjust, he plunged into her, savage as a beast, palms holding her legs apart.

Ramming in at a punishing pace, over and over, carrying himself over on the heels of her cries of passion.

Her fingers clawed into the fur of the carpet beneath, desperate for a harbor to tide her in, before Lucien offered her a way out, ducking down so that his own chest brushed against her breasts with each heavy stroke of his cock within her walls.

She scraped at the cloth of his back, nails digging in wantonly, toes curling and flexing with the ferocity of his thrusts before he took her so high, the only way to survive was to fall, come crashing down, shattering around him, as she did, screaming his title, his name, her bubbling anger at being left a slave to his mercies.

Lucien collapsed with the vehemence of his orgasm, arms holding him up above her, as he panted, hot and breathless against her. His eyes still housed a threatening inferno within, that sought to consume, and she whimpered at the sight of it just as he dipped his head, tongue swiping out to taste the salt of her sweat off her skin, the red leaving such a fetching shade of desire against brown skin, he reached out to trace her features in wonder.

“Tell me, beautiful, silly girl, would you like to share immortality with me?”

Dark, wondrous eyes took him in, the surprising hint of affection she saw within his gaze, mixed in with amusement.

A play toy he had become fond of. One he wanted.

She huffed out a bothered laugh. “’Father’, please.” She called out his title, ironic as it was, giving him her agreement.

.

End Notes: This ended up so long, even after I cut out so much BS and drama out of this lmao. I’m sorry Gavin, I hope you don’t suffer next.