#keeps putting her head on me asking for attention like dog child i must be allowed to work

[fjordfolk]

s not a lapdog its one of those hand dogs

[ceo-of-sloppy-women]

No grave can hold my body down; I'll crawl home to her

Chapter 14

read it on ao3

Chapter 16

When morning finally calls you back to consciousness, you wake with Sevika’s arm wrapped around you, holding you tenderly to her chest. You can feel her lips pressed to the back of your neck, a soft, relaxed smile stuck to your skin. Sinking into the moment, you are at ease for the first time in nine years, protected on all four walls guarding the most dangerous woman in Zaun. You rest your hand overtop of hers, slowly lacing your fingers with hers, taking what you can like a starving dog.

Sevika must feel the shift in states, as a moment later she’s yawning against the scruff of your neck. Your hand tenses, worried she’ll pull back, heart thundering in your chest. Yet, her arm remains firmly wrapped around you, thumb now stroking back and forth across your stomach.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Sevika hums, her voice full of gravel from slumber.

“Did you sleep okay?” you ask, resting your eyes in the safety of her watch.

“’Course I did, I –“

A loud crash sounds from downstairs, and both of you bolt up in bed. It’s a mad scramble for pants and socks, feet thundering down the stairs as your hand tenses over your holster. Both of you fearing the same thing: infected.

Sevika’s around the corner first, freezing when a kid loudly shouts her name, giggling happily. You run right into her back due to the sudden stop, nose colliding with hard muscle. Pulling back, you rub your nose with a cranky groan. Sitting in the kitchen are Jinx and Isha, with Isha covered in pancake batter (flour mostly, if you’re being honest) and Jinx holding a flipper, a mess of pancakes already in the pan.

“What are you two doing?” Sevika sighs heavily, like she’s on the verge of scolding a misbehaving child.

“Making you breakfast, duh! Isha wanted pancakes, and then she wanted to share them with you two, so we came here,” Jinx says innocently, as if she hadn’t just broken into someone’s house.

“Why couldn’t you just have invited us over?” Sevika grumbles, straightening out her shirt as Isha launches herself at her. She catches Isha effortlessly, holding the kid on her hip. “You know, instead of teaching the kid to break into people’s houses.”

“Because this way, you can’t say no,” Jinx states matter-of-factly, flipping the pancakes. One of them smears against the pan, making a bigger mess. “Oh, maybe that one wasn’t ready.”

“She has a point, Sev’,” you butt in, walking around Sevika to help Jinx so she doesn’t make a worse mess of your kitchen.

“Don’t agree with her! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Sevika sputters, standing in the living room, flabbergasted.

You shrug: “I want pancakes.”

Sevika groans half-heartedly, trying to put on a show more than anything. You can see it plainly written on her face; you’ve already won her over. Just as she opens her mouth to argue further, Isha taps her on the shoulder, getting her attention.

Isha signs, her eyebrows raised upwards, an anticipatory smile on her face: “Can we draw together? Please?”

Unable to sign back as her only hand is holding Isha, Sevika nods her head and says “okay” as clearly as she can.

Isha grins, clapping her hands and squirming until Sevika puts her down. Then she runs off to grab some paper from the coffee table, stuffing a purple crayon in Sevika’s hand. Sevika chuckles, sitting cross-legged at the coffee table and accepting the paper Isha gives her. Isha rapid signs at Sevika, who does her best to keep up with the kid, asking her to repeat what she doesn’t catch the first time. Isha, happy someone’s playing with her, continues until Sevika understands completely.

“Hey, love-sick, you going to help or not?” Jinx demands after failing to flip another pancake.

Snapped out of your lovesick stupor you turn around, face flushed and take the spatula from her. “Let me do this; you can layout the spreads and syrups.”

“If you want to fail at pancakes, be my guest,” Jinx surrenders immediately, turning around to root through the cabinets.

“I’m going to be the one cleaning up the mess afterwards anyway,” you point out, managing to flip a pancake without ruining it.

“Hey, we’ll help clean up, I won’t leave you with this mess. Not after Isha dropped the flour – not a lot of it, but if you wonder why there’s white handprints everywhere, she’s to blame.”

“Oh? Pinning your butterfingers on a kid now, Jinx?” you tease her.

“Dodging the fact you’re head over heels for my aunt now?” Jinx counters, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

“Hey!” you hiss, shooting a glare at her.

“Oh, shit you’re not even denying it,” Jinx whispers, staring at you with an open mouth. “You’re fucked, bottle-rocket. Good thing I like you already, otherwise, I would make you go through a grueling trial before I kept your secret for you. But fear not! I shall keep your secret safe and sound.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, ducking your head to focus on the pancakes.

“Don’t mention it!” Jinx giggles, grabbing a wet cloth to clean up the floury mess she’s made all across the kitchen.

By the time you’ve finished cooking the pancakes, Jinx has cleaned up the whole kitchen, making it shine (as best as it can in the apocalypse, at least). Sevika manages to drag Isha away from the coffee table long enough to get a plate in front of her. Isha stops whining the moment she’s presented with sweet, fluffy pancakes, scarfing down at least six (you’re not sure where she puts them all in her tiny body, but you’re not about to stop her; there are a lot of pancakes). Somehow, Jinx manages to wrangle Isha into helping with dishes, the kitchen cleaner than you’d left it by the time the four of you part ways. Jinx is off taking Isha to school, and Sevika’s trailing behind you like a lost puppy as you head to the printing shop. You vow to do laundry that night (hopefully), but today you need clean clothes.

As you walk in the store, you nearly run smack into Grayson. Thankfully, she moves at the last moment and the two of you share an awkward laugh.

“You are now the proud owner of a printing press. Make something good,” she teases you, winking as she slips out the shop. “I’ve got orders to fill, so if there’s any problems come find me!”

“Thank you!” you call after her as she walks off into the slowly thickening crowd of commuters.

“Need help?” Sevika asks, lingering in the doorway as if she’s still not sure whether she’s allowed inside.

“As if I’d say no,” you giggle, pulling her inside. “Come on, I’ll need someone to help me figure out what to print first.”

“Make it something useful – basic first aid or survival skills. Something we can print a lot of to get a hang of the press,” Sevika suggests, following you into the back.

“You’re so smart; what would I do without you?” you ask, beaming up at her as you hold the door to the press room open.

“You’d have come up with it yourself,” Sevika shrugs, stepping past you.

“Maybe, maybe not – who knows? Who cares? You’re here with me now, and that’s much better than doing all this myself. I wouldn’t even have gotten to this part by myself, I’d probably be dead to that horde back when you found me,” you say, taking in the (slightly underwhelming) sight of the printing press.

It’s gorgeously crafted, with carvings in the legs and as accurate to the design as possible. Yet, after weeks of waiting, it felt more like a mute point. You’re anticipating the process far more than the press itself, so you set to work figuring out how to get started rather than staring in awe at the truly gorgeous creation Grayson has delivered to your workshop. Besides, everything pales in comparison next to Sevika.

Together, the two of you spend the next eight hours printing pamphlets, getting covered in ink, and giggling – genuinely, actually giggling. You stop short the first time you hear it escape Sevika’s lips, floored at the beauty of her smile. Your heart swells in your chest, craving to kiss her tender lips – to take her right there and then on the workbench. Yet, you carry on, tucking away your beating heart in the name of art. There’s a time and place to swoon over her, even if that swooning won’t get you farther than a few wayward looks. You’ve come to terms with that. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.

When the sun’s finally setting, Sevika drags you out of the shop and to the grocery store. You pick up something easy to make, taking it home and stumbling through the door, already stoned from the walk over. Sevika had acquired new joints from God knows where, grinning as you tried to drag her sources out of her. No such luck.

“Alright, strip,” she demands the moment you step inside.

“What?” you squeak, face flushing scarlet.

“We need to wash your clothes; it’s disgusting at this point. You get dinner ready and I’ll wash ‘em for you,” Sevika explains, holding out her hand impatiently.

“Oh, right,” you giggle nervously, glancing upstairs at your bedroom. “Here, take this –“ you had her dinner – “I’ll be right back.”

“Be quick,” she grunts, disappointment flickering behind her eyes. You brush it off and race upstairs.

Ten minutes later, you’re standing in her shirt, preparing tacos as she fusses with an old washing machine. In solidarity, she’s stripped down and tossed her clothes in as well, wearing nothing but a white tank top and a pair of plaid pyjama pants now. You admire her back tattoo, wanting to ghost your fingers over it, yet you’re covered in salsa, so you let the feeling pass you by. For now, you lean into the quiet domestic life with her, wrapped up in the gentle current of the universe

Clean clothes have never felt better. You’d nearly forgotten what they felt like all together, but nothing beat the next morning when you slipped into a freshly washed pair of jeans and a bra that wasn’t stiff with grime. Well, almost nothing – it couldn’t beat waking up with Sevika’s arm thrown across your chest, a small puddle of drool soaking into the shirt she’d lent you. As if the universe has finally fallen into place around you, and all you have to do is linger within it.

Unfortunately, Sevika doesn’t join you in the print shop that day. Vander arrives at the house in the early hours of the morning to request Sevika’s help with the windmill. You had almost forgotten about the project! Frankly, you were taken aback that it wasn’t done yet; after all, it has been a little more than four weeks now. Though you supposed building a brand new structure, and all of the pieces that go within it takes far longer when you have to do everything by hand (and can’t import pieces from other sites).

Craving fresh bread made from properly ground flour, you don’t even put up a fight for Sevika’s help. You can work alone if it means the next bun you eat isn’t a little gritty.

Your sacrifice leads to the loss of Sevika’s help for the remainder of the week. It isn’t all bad – Jinx and Isha do stop by occasionally to “help out,” but neither were really all that much help. Mostly, Isha sat on the floor colouring, and Jinx rambled about all the fun things you were missing out on cooped up inside. At least it gave you a distraction while you printed the same thing over and over again – you’d moved past survival pamphlets and onto your first attempt at a book, deciding to reprint the novel you were reading the night Sevika had come to you. Hopefully, Grayson will be satisfied with your selection… but printing a novel meant you had to print several copies of the same page over and over again, fussing over spacing and trying to ensure you had the words spelled correctly. All while Jinx tried to steal pages to read them for herself. In the end, you had to keep two bookmarks in the book, one for your work and one for her reading, as she got far too invested while you were making endless copies of the pages.

Slowly, the quiet rhythm of life began to crawl back into your heart, and you melted into the normalcy that used to pervade your life before the apocalypse. It felt good to finally have the rhythm back – it had tried to return while Sevika was injured but never quite stuck after everything that happened afterwards. Finally, it felt like it’s here to stay; a realization you came to in the middle of printing the heartfelt love confession, swooning over the words as Jinx read them aloud in her giggling mockery that gave away how into the plot she actually was.

Before you headed home for the night, you stopped by the grocery store to pick up something special: steak, baked beans, potatoes and carrots. A dish reminiscent of the first night you cooked for her. You’re giggling to yourself as you pick out a new steak rub, indulging your creativity as you grab a stick of butter. By the time you’ve got everything you need, the basket is nearly overflowing (you might have grabbed an expensive bottle of whiskey and some candles too).

Rocking back and forth on your feet in the grocery line, a voice pipes up behind you: “What’s got you so excited?”

You spin around to see Salo behind you, staring at you with a knowing smile, Mel holding his shopping for him.

“Salo! It’s been too long; how have you been? You haven’t given yourself food poisoning again, have you?”

Salo scoffs and rolls his eyes, his smile refusing to budge an inch. “Occupational hazard. I should be asking you how you’ve been; no one’s seen you all week, except for Jinx claiming she visits you every day in this new… print shop?”

“Oh,” you chuckle nervously and rub the back of your neck. “I guess I’ve been so hard at work I haven’t taken the time for myself. Jinx isn’t wrong; I do have a print shop, though we’re not open yet. I’ve got to get two more books printed before I open my doors, so I have something for all ages.”  

“Please let me know when you are ready; I would love to make a larger announcement to the community on your behalf,” Mel interjects, drawing your attention to her. She holds out her hand: “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Mel. Jayce has told me quiet a bit about you.”

You firmly shake her hand, introducing yourself. “I’ve heard about you too – probably not as much as you’ve heard of me. I’d love the help, a little foot traffic would do the shop wonders when I’m ready to open the doors.”

“Excellent. Have you considered collaborating with any local authors to print their works?”

“I have –“ you begin to place your groceries on the counter for the clerk – “I’m not quite sure how to find them, but when I open, I hope to take applications. Printing is a long process; I want to make sure everyone gets a fair chance to have their work printed.”

“A very good idea. I can work with you to connect with local authors; perhaps you could print one of their books as your remaining two.”

“That – that might actually help me decide. If you find anyone willing to work with me, send them down the street, please.”

“Of course.”

You leave the grocery store with a beaming smile on your face as you rush through the evening crowd to get home. Thankfully, Sevika hasn’t made it back yet, so you still have time to roll up your sleeves and get to work. The old cast-iron pan is put to use to sear the steaks as you toss the potatoes in the oven with the pot of beans. The carrots steam in a pot in the far corner of the stove. Everything is given a hefty helping of honey (and other seasonings) to bring out your desired flavours. As things cook, you set the kitchen up around you, lighting candles, setting the whiskey bottle near two glasses, and making sure there wasn’t any dirt on the floor. You’ve even dragged Sevika’s boombox downstairs, plugging it in and tuning it to a local radio station – you’d overheard a group of friends talking about it in the grocery store and wanted to tune in for its first broadcast. So far the music is energizing, painting the kitchen in bright colours that compliment the heavenly scent of your cooking.

You’re so focused on the task at hand and the music that you don’t hear the backdoor swing open, or the footsteps behind you. Until a hand wraps around your waist, her chest against your back, head pressed into her breasts. You squeak loudly, jerking your head up to see Sevika’s sly smile staring back at you.

“Smells heavenly, sugar,” she hums, making you swallow thickly.

“You’ve gotta be louder, I didn’t even hear you come in,” you stammer, trying to make sure you don’t burn the steaks.

Sevika snorts: “That’s not my fault. I even said your name when I came in, you were just too invested in all this to notice.”

“Oh…” you’re thankful she towers over you so she can’t see the way your face flushes in embarrassment. God. This kind of obliviousness would get you killed these days.

“What ya cookin’ anyway? Smells heavenly,” Sevika continues, oblivious to your sudden embarrassment.

“Steak and baked potatoes,” you admit sheepishly.

“Just like the first night, hm? You trying to tell me something?”

“What would I be trying to tell you?”

“I don’t know, but you should write these recipes down; makes the whole house smell divine. Could turn it into a cookbook for your print shop.”

Your head still spins from what she could have possibly meant earlier, so all you manage is a sheepish head nod. You don’t have the faintest idea of what she’s insinuating – it’s not as if you wanted to do anything more than celebrate the good week you’ve had. It’s not as if anything really happened, beyond Grayson flirting with you, that first day. You’d only made steak so that Sevika would talk to you again! Did she think you were mad at her? Oh, God, have you pathologized her with cooking to make her think steak means she’s done something wrong?

“Hey, you even paying attention?” Sevika asks, pulling you out of your mental doom spiral.

“Huh? What?”

“Don’t space out on me now; you’ll burn the steak,” Sevika chuckles. “I said they’re holding a barn dance in a few days to celebrate the new windmill.”

“We should go,” you say immediately, reaching for a plate for the steaks. Sevika grabs one and passes it to you.

“If you want. I usually don’t go to these things, can’t really dance,” Sevika shrugs, giving you space to plate the food.

“All the more reason we should go – you’ve worked hard to help them put on the finishing touches. You deserve a chance to appreciate your own work,” you insist, carrying the dishes out to the table on the back porch.

“You’re just saying that because you want to go,” Sevika points out, taking a seat at the table. The clatter of silverware sings through the backyard as she sets them in the middle.

“Is that such a bad thing?” you ask, sitting down across from her.

Sevika merely grunts, shrugging her shoulders as she takes a steak from the serving platter.

The conversation dies away as the two of you pile your plates high and devour the delicious meal. You listen to Sevika’s day at work – all the dangerous chances she almost died yet unfortunately survived (in her opinion). She listens to your day at work and how Jinx giggled maniacally through the last few chapters of the novel. An air of domestic joy wraps around the two of you, even as you hurry to do the dishes and grab the whiskey off the counter. Sevika puts her feet up on the table – something you scold her half-heartedly for – swirling her whiskey before taking a sip. A contented sigh escapes her as she melts further into the porch swing. You tentatively lean against her shoulder until she pulls you closer, whiskey sloshing in the bottom of her glass so that you’re pressed up against her side.

“This is the life,” she hums, staring up at the stars.

“Certainly better than where I was this time ten years ago,” you scoff, taking a sip of your whiskey.

“Anything’s better than ten years ago. I could get eaten by infected tomorrow and it would still be better than that shit show.”

“Indeed,” you murmur, staring up at her as her face relaxes from a scowl back into the contented smile. Desperation bubbles up in your stomach, craving her lips. You barely manage to temper it down, sating yourself by tracing the line of her lips. Your eyes catch over the piercing at the bottom, tongue escaping to wet your lips as you stew in your own pleasant puddle of arousal.

Sevika, oblivious to your staring, takes a sip of whiskey and continues to watch the night sky. Finishing her glass, she sets it down and wraps her hand around your shoulder, thumb stroking your shoulder. No matter how desperately you crave her, you’re not ruining this friendship over an unrequited crush. You’ll spend eternity in this pleasant misery if you must.

Even if you wanted her thumb stroking somewhere far lower. At least you have the barn dance – maybe you can sway her toward seeing you in candlelight rather than the daylight.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮 (i've read all of the cranberry fic series today and i am obsessed it's so good i can't help but ask for more <3)

AH yay! Thank you so much!

108 or 1k for 🦮 (whichever I hit first):

---

Not necessarily better. Just different. 

Buck looks at the boy in the picture again. He really does look so much like Buck had looked as a child. Having Buck around after losing him… It must have been like living with a ghost. A ghost they were only forced to pay attention to when he was bleeding. Except, once he left, not even that was true. A scraped knee or broken arm in Hershey is a burden. A lost limb on the other side of the country is out of sight, out of mind. 

Buck laughs a little bitterly. He thinks he sees everything clearly now. 

He lets out a long sigh. “I wish you’d told me sooner, Maddie.”

She huffs, defeated. “I tried, Evan. I really did. But when should I have done that? Not while either of us was living with them. Not when I arrived here and… And you still seemed so lost, waiting for someone who wasn’t coming back. And then you lost your leg! I didn’t know how… I have been so afraid of what this will do to you.”

Afraid of what it will do to him. That’s fair. He can see her point. He can see how, after losing his leg, this could have been a final blow. A final way his body has failed. A final statement of his inherent worth, or lack thereof. He can see it, because he can feel it. Like tendrils of self-loathing and intrusive thoughts trying to push through the gates of all the therapy he’s done. All the work on himself. 

He breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth, trying to ease the pressure building in his chest. He thinks of what he needs to do. Like emergency protocols at work. A checklist forms in his head. He needs to regulate his nervous system response so he doesn’t panic. He needs to make sure all of Christopher’s needs are met and all of Cranberry’s needs are met. In the morning, he needs to call Dr. Copeland and book an emergency session. That’s all. That’s all he needs to do about this right now. 

“Can you go home?” Buck asks. It’s a sudden, blurted request. He realizes as soon as he’s said it that it sounds rather harsh. 

“Evan,” Maddie pleads. “I really am sorry. I didn’t know what to do.”

“I know,” he exhales. “I know, just… I think I need space right now.”

Maddie looks truly crestfallen. Buck has to look down under the table at Cranberry to avert his eyes. He doesn’t want to cave. He needs space to process this. He’s not wrong to need that. 

“Evan…”

“Please, Maddie. I just need some time with this.”

She sighs. “Okay.”

She stands up, but pauses a second.

“I love you. So much. You know that, right?”

He still can hardly look her in the eye. 

“I love you, too.”

vi.

He manages to keep himself together until Eddie gets home the next morning. He takes care of Chris and the dog. He takes a long shower to reset his nervous system via scorching water. He practices breathing exercises. He puts on a playlist that Chris calls sad but always makes Buck feel calm. 

And then, when Eddie walks through the door, tired and smelling a little smoky, Buck sort of loses it. He tells Eddie the whole story in a flurry of tears and interruptions by Cranberry. Eddie listens, wide-eyed and horrified. When Buck begins to devolve, he holds him. He strokes his hair and comforts him through the reaction he couldn’t have last night. That he couldn’t have as a caregiver. That he couldn’t have had alone. 

Eventually, they lay in bed, Buck’s head on Eddie’s chest. Cranberry lying pressed against his other side. He’s sandwiched between them, and it anchors him. 

“You know,” Eddie says gently, eventually. “I think… Okay, so this is a terrible thing to find out. But I think, overall, it’s good to know.”

“Definitely better than being lied to,” Buck agrees. 

“I think it helps me understand them a bit better,” Eddie admits. 

“What?” Buck demands. 

“Not like that,” Eddie says quickly. “Like, they still suck and handled everything badly and the way they talk to you is not okay.”

“Right,” Buck says. 

“But I think I can understand how it maybe got the way it did, from what I understand,” Eddie says. 

“Okay,” Buck replies, waiting for Eddie to elaborate. 

“Losing your kid… That’s the worst outcome, right?” Eddie posits.

“Yeah, of course,” Buck says. “I know that that must have been terrible for them.”

Chris isn’t even his, technically, but his mind goes right there. The devastation that losing Chris would bring down upon him. He wouldn’t ever really recover. Not fully.

[infiniteeight8]

I was looking at the document where I keep a bunch of quotes I like, and there are some that I think of as very Ironstrange-coded (or at least Stephen-coded, as I think of this one). So I thought I'd send a couple and see what you make of them.

My prayer is simple, my child, my child, Please, do try to understand: I’ve given you freedom, and left you with choices Now you’re at the beginning, Again. -Wyvernhail, Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

When it comes to poetry, I must include a bit of a disclaimer/warning: My brain does not get poetry. At all. There is something about poetry that just does not compute for me. So it is entirely possible that my responses to poetry prompts are either going to be painfully literal, or go off on a tangent that leaves you scratching your head. I mean, all prompt responses run that risk, but it’s going to be especially bad with poetry. 😂

That said, here we go!

-

Stephen wakes up in the hospital.

The last he remembers, he was on a battlefield, watching Tony Stark prepare himself to snap. It’s not inconceivable that he could have been hospitalized after that and lost a few hours of memory to the trauma, but the possibility never even occurs to him, because he wakes up to a haze of painkillers and the sight of his hands absolutely covered in external fixators. 

Christine is beside him, telling him everything will be okay. Stephen doesn’t respond. What is he supposed to say? He’s been here before. He knows, in the marrow of him, that this is no nightmare or flashback. He really has been sent back in time. He closes his eyes and shuts everyone out and can’t bring himself to care how worrying that must be.

The next day, while Stephen is staring into the distance, there’s a commotion out in the hall. It gets louder, and louder, and then his room’s door slams open and Tony Stark strides in. He looks momentarily taken aback at the sight of Stephen, but recovers quickly. “Strange, would you tell your overprotective guard dogs that it’s okay for me to stay and chat?” Christine, two nurses, and at least one security guard pile into the room after him, bringing raised voices with them.

Somehow, it never occurred to Stephen that he might not have come back alone. The relief is overwhelming, but he forces himself to find his voice. “It’s fine.” The words are barely a croak—he hasn’t spoken in awhile—but they capture Christine’s attention and the others follow her lead.

“Stephen, are you sure?” she asks, casting Stark a skeptical look.

He hadn’t been Stark’s biggest fan, Stephen abruptly remembers. Oh well. “I’m sure. Actually, if we could speak alone…”

Christine isn’t sold on the idea, but Tony steps in and ushers them all out the door. When it’s closed he turns back to Stephen and pauses a moment to take in the wreck the accident has made of Stephen. “I’m sorry about this,” Tony says, waving at him. “The stones put all kinds of conditions on when I could go to and who I could take with me without just splitting our timeline into a new branch instead of getting a proper do-over. I’d have landed us after your recovery, but…” Tony looks abruptly exhausted, “...honestly, we need all the time we can get. We don’t have months to spare.”

“I understand,” Stephen says. He takes a careful, steadying breath. “The painkillers have me a little foggy, but our first step has to be documenting future events. I can do that.”

Tony pulls up a chair next to Stephen’s bed and projects a hologram from his wrist.

They get to work.

[rom-e-o]

The boys (including Bob) all being invited out for a "business dinner" by a prominent but sleazey associate that ends up being in... an adult entertainment venue that's geared mostly towards the gentlemen. This associate doesn't bother to mention this to the boys for whatever reason, so, naturally, the wives are invited along, because, unless it was top secret, why would you not invite your lovely, charming better halves along for an evening of what you presume to be fine dining? Needless to say, NONE of the couples are very impressed, but this associate insists on having the "meeting" here, and because he is someone with significant pull on high places and would be ideal to have an ally in, they all bite their tongues and go along. Cue the ladies kind of putting a damper on this man's (and, really, a lot of men's) evening as they naturally kind of monopolize a lot of the working girls' time with genuine and friendly chatting. Yes, they definitely offer up help and services to lots of the girls who would like to get out of the business but feel stuck. Yes, they also discuss beauty tips. And work out routines. And like be connections. And just have lots of positive interaction with the girls working there, because these are three core Pack women, why wouldn't they connect with these women?😅. Maybe they even talk with a depressed man they find in there or help a guy who's trapped there by his mates but wants to get back home to his own girl so he doesn't screw things up with her.

And the hubbies are just as enchanted with their beloveds as ever.

Ooooh ... I love this! And how absolutely in-character that entire scenario is for them. They would SO be the type to walk into a room of topless waitresses and dancers and immediately start making friends.

The associate brings them to this private area, just swarming with ladies. Poor Bob is red in the face the WHOLE time, and can barely glance up from the floor. Thankfully, Ethel leads him along. ("Careful, watch your step.")

I feel like the ladies are mostly amused by the showboating. The obvious display of 'manliness' in the form of this entertainment display. It's incredibly transparent.

As they settle in, waitressed bringing them drinks and rubbing shoulders, the ladies start working their magic around the table.

"Mmm...someone on here is wearing Neroli Portofino by Tom Ford. Who is it?" Connie asks.

And one of the more timid girls, who obviously is hesitant to be there, stammers, "O-Oh, me. I'm sorry, is it too fragrant?"

"No, it's lovely! Perfume smells different on each person because of pH. It smells delightful on you."

"Oh, thank you! I-It was a gift from my mom."

The head gent starts snapping for another round, but oh no. The ladies talk over him.

"Your mom? Is she local?"

"N-No. Um. She lives in Lavenham. You wouldn't know-"

"Suffolk, right?"

"N-wait, yes!"

Meanwhile, another convo with the woman starting to dance, Bess says, "Oh, hey, excuse me! I don't mean to leer, but your legs look amazing! Do you also do pilates, or ...?"

"Oh? Actually, I do kickboxing."

"Kickboxing? Oh my gosh, you're kidding. I do, too!"

"Not shit, really? Honey, we should got o class together. I've been dying for a spar partner to help me keep my reps up. Want to trade info?"

"Absolutely! Here, sit down right here."

The men are flabbergasted as their entire entourage of ladies completely shifts attention away from them and onto the women in the room. EVEN when he sends that group away and bright new ones into the room, the convos continues. Make-up. Morning routines. Where did you go to collage? Aw, your dog is a viszla? How long have you had her?

Ethel, meanwhile, insists on taking the trays from the girls hands and helping pass drinks, and she is giving these men NO victory. No sashay, so giggles. Just a 'here' and she practically drops it into their palms and goes back to bantering with another woman about her child starting preschool. "Oh, you must be so excited for your little Marguerite! Congrats, pet! Does she knows what she wants to be? ... London's first astronaut? Well, I'll be watching the skies for her!"

The hubbies are enamored, and so proud. They already weren't going to let this sleazeball walk all over them, let alone use an adult venue to turn this into some pathetic excuse for a pathetic excuse of a stag party. But to see their wifeys give these ladies a good time while completely talking all over the plans of this sleazeball? Oh, it's glorious.

[baycitystygian]

WE ARE SO BACK BABEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYY

also my apologies but I literally don't know jack about Robert's personality so I am so so so sorry but I didn't write much of him in here 😭he's there I promise he's just enjoying the vibes..... @fancycolours I tried 😅

"Excuse me for a moment," Paul bashfully interjected, exiting the living room. I smiled to myself- it was go time. Lexie and Robert shared a knowing glance as I turned my attention back to the kids, who were busy coloring.

"Riley, did you make the nice list this year?," I began with a smirk.

"Yes!," she proudly exclaimed.

"Jody, Melissa, how about you? Were you good this year?," Lexie asked.

"Jody's on the naughty list," Melissa immediately replied.

"Missy!" I stifled a laugh. "You and your sister were both very good. I'm sure you're both on the nice list, unless you keep throwing Jojo under the bus like that."

In the garage, Paul was busy changing into his Santa Claus getup as quickly as possible. He scurried out of the garage and around to the front door, then rang the doorbell.

"I wonder who's at the door!," I exclaimed, rushing to open it and feigning surprise when I revealed my husband, the makeshift Santa.

The girls screamed with joy, mobbing Paul before he could take a step inside.

"Santa, when did you start using the front door? I thought you always took the chimney!," I teased.

"One too many cookies... Santa doesn't fit down chimneys anymore," he chuckled, putting on a bellowing, jolly voice that made me giggle. "Excuse me, beautiful lady, but I have some presents to give out to some very good little girls!"

He hurried inside and made himself comfy on the recliner, setting his sack of presents down next to him.

"Now let's see here..." He pulled out a piece of paper from his coat pocket, which had NICE LIST in big bold letters across the top. "Is there a Riley Lamm here?"

"Meeeeee!" Riley rushed over and climbed onto Paul's lap.

"Riley, my elves told me that you wanted a Barbie doll for Christmas, is that right?"

"Yes!" She nodded eagerly.

"I heard a rumor that you might be getting some from your parents, so I got you a little something for your Barbies to live in..."

He pulled out a large wrapped present from the sack, and Riley tore into it in a frenzy.

"A Barbie dream house! Thank you, Santa!"

She gave him a hug, squeezing him so tightly that he made eye contact with me and mouthed "Help!"

"Who's next on your list, Santa?," I interjected.

Riley climbed off of his lap and busied herself with opening her new toy, which Lexie and Robert helped her with.

"I've got Melissa Williams, is Missy here?"

Melissa launched herself onto his lap, none the wiser that she'd snuggled up on that same lap almost every day of her life.

"You can't fit a pony in that bag, Santa," she began.

"Mom and Dad told me you aren't ready for a pony, so we compromised," he responded, amused by her chutzpah. He pulled out another big box, and she unwrapped it just as quickly as Riley had opened her gift. It was, to a child, a huge toy pony.

"Thank you Santa!" She hugged Paul and hopped off of his lap. Jody climbed onto Paul's lap before he could get back to his list.

"And you must be Miss Jody!" He hugged his baby girl, who nodded bashfully. "Help an old man out here... what did you want for Christmas again?"

She shyly shook her head and buried her face into his red, fuzzy jacket.

"Mommy, do you remember what she wanted?"

"I'm sure your elves did, Santa- they haven't missed yet!," I responded.

"Let's see what I brought for you!"

He pulled out an oddly shaped package, and Jody carefully pulled the wrapping paper apart, revealing a stuffed dog that was almost as big as she was tall.

"A doggy!" Our toddler squealed and hugged the stuffed animal, and Paul kissed the top of her head.

"Merry Christmas, girls!," he proudly announced. I scooped up Jody (and her new toy) so that he could stand up. "I have to go finish delivering presents to all the other good boys and girls out there. Now remember... I want you all to make the nice list next year, too!"

"Goodbye, Santa!," Lexie grinned, waving to him.

"Say goodbye, Jojo!," I whispered to Jody, who was still feeling bashful.

Paul closed the front door behind him, scurried back to the garage, and stripped himself of his Santa gear, hurrying to rejoin the party back in the living room.

"What'd I miss?," he innocently began, tousling his hair back into place.

"Only the biggest night of the whole year!" I kissed him and handed Jody over to him. "Santa came over, and wouldn't you know it, he wears aviator glasses, too!"

"Did you get that from Santa, Jo?"

She nodded and hugged him, burying her head into his chest.

"You must've been extra nice this year!"

"No, she was a stinker!," Melissa screeched.

"Maybe so, but she learned how to be a stinker from you," I retorted.

I can imagine us and our hubbies celebrating Christmas together!

should I write a fic about it

(translation: I need to write something fun and sweet and happy and low stakes so fucking bad oh my god I think I can actually fucking do this)

[ryosmne]

Three brats??

Dad!Sukuna x f!reader

So this is basically a comfort fic, featuring dad! Sukuna because the brainrot was too much. Ok so, the reader and Sukuna have a son together, yes their son is Yuuji, I know this is usually the single father Sukuna trope, but I wanted to give it a go, feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for brainrotting with me @likeab-o-s-s cause this is the reason this exists. That's all from me enjoy reading.

Warnings: none really, just family, heartwarming fluff.

The air was crisp and fresh, unusually refreshing for the beginning of summer. Parents were already gathered outside the daycare, Yuuji, y/n's and Sukuna's son attended, patiently waiting for their kids to run in their arms again.

Sukuna arrived a couple of minutes before the final bell on his motorcycle, he took off his helmet, leaned back on his bike and waited for the familiar little pink head of hair to come wobling to him.

The three mothers next to him, scooted a bit closer to him to get a better look nothing he's unfamiliar with and no one can blame them, Sukuna is a sight for sore eyes. Leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up, extenuating his board shoulders, exposing his tattoo covered skin, v neck white t shirt, allowing his toned chest and even more of his tattoos to show and a simple black pair of pants hugging his muscular thighs in the best of ways.

In the past some of the bolder ones had mustered the courage and asked him if he was a single father since they had never seen his son's mother, but with a laugh Sukuna brushed them off telling them how his lovely wife was a working parent and her schedule just didn't match the daycares. Maybe the very unconventional wedding rings they got weren't the best idea in this situation, even though they were extremely beautiful and unique.

"I really admire the work you put in the little guy" Sukuna's gaze met a woman who attempted to strike a conversation, oblivious to what she had meant by her statement he replied, maybe these three minutes would pass faster talking about normal things and not stressing about work.

"Don't we all put work on our kids?" He spoke calmly with a slight smile that he always wore when talking about Yuuji.

"Yeah, we do, but it still must be hard I can't imagine what you're going through" Sukuna's mind went to the worst scenario. Was Yuuji a trouble maker at school? He is a very well behaved child, both him and y/n made sure to teach him proper manners and how to be polite, that couldn't be it right?

The bell rung, and kids made their way out of the daycare, Yuuji in the blink of an eye was hugging his father's leg, exited to see him after the hours he was gone. In a swift motion Sukuna put Yuuji's little backpack on his own back and scooped the boy up in his arm.

"Yuuji's a pretty good kid, hes never been difficult" Sukuna smilled again resuming in the short conversation with the woman next to him. "Single father's like you don't get the credit they deserve". She spoke again smiling sadly down to the little pink haired boy who seemed too fixated on the earrings his father was wearing.

Sukuna finally understanding what this whole thing was about, chuckled, this had happened before after all, he should've known.

"I'm not a single parent, speaking of that your mom said she has a big surprise for you after dinner" he said directing his attention to his son again, the woman next to him quickly fumbled an apology for missundertanding, to which Sukuna replied to with a simple 'dont worry about it'. He placed Yuuji on his bike, put on both his and his boys helmet and drove off.

Y/n was still stuck at work, thankfully her husband would cook dinner tonight cause overtime was killing both her and her mood, good thing she finally had a day off tomorrow.

Y/n checked her phone to see how close she was to going home only to find a text that Yuuji's teacher had send her that was obviously meant for her husband.

Hello Mr Itadori, this is Mrs Laura from the day care. I was wondering if you wanted to get launch with me after school tomorrow, you can bring little Yuuji too, I'm awaiting your response, have a nice night.

What the hell was that? Well y/n's number was in Yuuji's contact information, she chuckled at the words displayed on her screen but she couldn't really blame the teach, Sukuna was a walking temptation, she knew that first hand, hell she fell head over heels for the dangerous looking guy who hid a heart of gold under his hard exterior, but the teacher could at least check who the number belonged to.

Y/n run her last errands and made sure to pick up Yuuji's surprise before heading home, she even tipped Sukuna off so their son wouldn't know what hit him.

Y/n made her way inside the family house, tossing her keys somewhere on the living room couch.

Yuuji immediately after hearing her car in the driveway came rushing down the stairs, jumping around her like he always did when she came home.

"Mom, mom you're home." The happiness was evident in the boys face, his smile was wide when y/n dropped to his level to pick him up and spin him around

"Yes I am little devil, did you give your father hell like we agreed?" She spoke in the happiest of tones with Yuuji still in her arms. Another set of arms engulfed her frame making her halt on spinning the little boy.

"So you're telling him to be a little brat now huh?" Sukuna's breath tickled the side of her neck and ear as he rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped his strong arms around her waist. "Welcome home love" he spoke again giving her jaw a ghost of a kiss.

"Daddy is the food ready" Yuuji spoke from y/n's arms, Sukuna only laughed at his son's appetite, and directed both him and y/n to the kitchen where he had already set everything up.

"Mommy, what is a single dad?" Yuuji asked in the middle of dinner in typical fashion of his, any question he had from something he heard through the day would always come up during dinner.

"Well Yuuji, single fathers are the fathers who raise their kids alone." The young boy seemed to think about his mother's words before speaking again. "So its just a daddy ?" Yuuji asked again with his eyes growing a bit sadder, his mother nodded, and Yuuji's eyes started to water.

"Baby what's wrong?" y/n asked. "Hey buddy what's going on?" Sukuna was growing quite concerned too. Yuuji burst in tears leaving his seat, climbing up his dad and hugging him tightly. Sukuna was rubbing his back to comfort the young boy and y/n's hand was stroking the kids hair in an effort to calm him down. "B-but why did that lady c-call you that, is m-mommy l-leaving?" Everything seemed to click for Sukuna, y/n was still confused but in the calmest sweetest voice said "Yuuji, baby look at me, I'm not going anywhere ok?" And the boy left his father's arms and clung on to her like his life depended on it.

Sukuna cracked a few jokes and lightened Yuuji's mood so he could enjoy the rest of his dinner, which went pretty well, he was his smiling adorable self very soon after his parents reassured him that none of them were ever leaving his side and the boy was now drawing with crayons in the living room. He seemed to have completely forgotten about the surprise his father mentioned when he picked him up.

Y/n and Sukuna were doing the dishes in the kitchen, each one talking about their day, Sukuna explained the awkward conversation he had at the daycare that sparked Yuuji's sadness, y/n took a turn in talking about how her son's teacher, basically asked Sukuna out on a date but messed up and texted her. "How about you set up a date and you show up? I mean it's you she texted right?" Sukuna joked "Babe, that's cruel" y/n chuckled at her husband's mischievous nature.

"So you've got everything ready?" Sukuna asked. "yeah who'll bring him over?"

"You do it I'll keep Yuuji busy."

Sukuna joined Yuuji on the couch. "What are you drawing little brat?" Y/n heard him ask their boy in the usual sweet tone he had with him. She made her way down the basement, where she kept the surprise since she came home. Yuuji was going to love this, Sukuna was too, she knew she was already in love as well.

Y/n climbed the stairs quickly, and snuck up behind her son, who was occupied by his dad, she gently tapped the boys shoulder.

"A PUPPY" Yuuji announced exited making sure his voice was still soft not to scare the eager dog that his mom brought to his arms. Yuuji gently held the puppy that was licking his face as he was in a fit of laughter and excitement. Sukuna was as exited as his son and y/n had a huge smile on her face too. Their son had begged and begged for a dog ever since his best friend, Megumi got a black German shepherd puppy. Of course y/n and Sukuna wanted to comply to Yuuji's request right away, but they took time to teach little Yuuji everything there was about the responsibility of owning a dog. They took him to dog cafes and shelters, so he would be the perfect little dog owner, they taught him patience and responsibility beforehand. Sukuna visited the local shelter and decided with y/n on a white Shepard puppy that Yuuji always pointed out in your visits because 'he looks like Megumi's puppy they can be friends like we are' who can say no to that little adorable devil?

The puppy momentarily left Yuuji's arms to lick Sukuna's face. "Now we've got two little brats and a big one in our house." He laughed, enjoying the moment.

Y/n was admiring her son and husband as well as the newest member of the family with a smile plastered wide on her face, life was indeed beautiful.

The next day, both Sukuna and y/n were waiting for Yuuji to finish school, since y/n had the day off. Sukuna had his arm protectively around her because this time, others were staring at what was his, but he was proud to show her off to everyone, even in a place as mundane as his son's daycare.

[robininthelabyrinth]

i've been keeping a list of possible prompts for you and there's one i have no memory of adding that just says "courtesan nmj????" so i guess that's the prompt you're getting lmao

What Does the Fox Say - ao3

“Second Madame Nie!” a disciple shouted, rushing into her little garden. She didn’t recognize him, but he was solidly built and well-muscled like most of the others – truly, the Unclean Realm was a rapturous feast for one with eyes to see it. Yum, yum. “Second Madame Nie, I have bad news!”

Boo. She hated bad news: bad news meant she’d have to do something, usually, and right now she was seated very comfortably in a pleasant piece of sun in the garden path that’d been made up just for her and to her preferences, with her feet up on a chair and a full plate of fruit from the kitchen on the table in front of her just begging to be devoured, morsel by delicious morsel.

Her schedule was packed!

“I regret to tell you, but your husband has been killed!”

“Oh,” she said, frowning slightly. “Has he? How obnoxious of him.”

How unreliable. Men.

She sighed.

“Second Madame – Second Madame – you don’t understand!” The disciple was all red-eyed and weepy, which was a look she liked, especially in big, stout men like this. The salt added a bit of spice to the whole thing. “You must flee at once! He was killed by Sect Leader Wen in an act of outright aggression – Sect Leader Wen has declared war – the Wen sect is invading!”

She nodded and picked up another lychee to start peeling it. She’d get around to fleeing in her own time. As long as this Wen sect or whatnot was being led by a man, she wasn’t terribly concerned.

“They intend to wipe out the inheritance of Qinghe Nie! They will rip out the child in your belly!”

She hummed noncommittally. Really, how attached was she to having a child of her own? Really?

“They will slaughter civilians – execute Nie-gongzi –”

Her hands stilled.

“What,” she said, and the disciple took a step back automatically, proving that he, at least, had something more of a survival instinct than her late husband did. “Hurt my little meat bun? My darling rice roll? My savory zongzi?”

She stood up, diminutive height and over-large belly and frilly clothing doing absolutely nothing to diminish the vaguely menacing aura that darkened the sky around her. She bared her teeth.

“Who does this upstart Wen dog think he is?!”

The disciple blinked owlishly, but nodded, seeming relieved that she’d finally accepted his concern, though she could see on his face that he was thinking that her reasoning was – characteristically – a little strange. But then again, and she could see this thought process on his far too honest face, it was well known that the second Madame Nie been quite strange ever since Sect Leader Nie had found her in some lonesome place with no family or background and brought her back to be his new wife nevertheless.

Such a charming man. Pity about his loss, really.

“You have to flee at once, we can’t possibly fight so many people,” the disciple said once more, and this time she nodded in agreement. “We can escort you to a hidden exit –”

“No!” a little voice called. “We can’t go.”

She turned to look, and there was the little pork-and-shrimp dumpling himself, chubby-cheeked and earnest-eyed, looking as delicious as always.

“What do you mean, fish cake?” she asked. “Of course we have to go. Didn’t you hear what this strapping young man said? This Wen person wants to kill you!”

“If Father is dead, then I’m the sect leader,” her stepson said. He was serious and solemn in a way that made her want to pinch his cheeks and bury her face into his belly to blow raspberries, and also possibly to eat him right up, flesh and marrow and gristle and all. “That means it’s my responsibility to preserve the Nie sect.”

“Nie-gongzi, no!” the disciple cried, throwing himself to his knees in a dramatic display of loyalty. “You would only die – far better for you to run, and live!”

“Then isn’t the same true for everyone else?” the tasty little dish asked, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. Possibly he was trying to put on a fierce expression, maybe, she couldn’t quite tell sometimes. He was so cute. “Why should I live, and them not? I refuse to buy my life with their deaths!”

“But – Nie-gongzi –”

Her charming little honey cake shook his head and held up a hand to stop the disciple, turning to look at her instead.

“Second Mother,” he said, and he had that wholesome trusting expression again that was such a perfect little one-shot-kill to the heart, ugh. “You always said you’re the best at hiding. The best in the world, no one better among all the gods or demons!”

She was, too. She couldn’t help but preen a little, proud.

“– can’t you do something?”

“Oh, darling cabbage bun,” she said, not without fondness. “I can hide myself from even the net of Heaven itself if I so choose, from gods and demons alike, and I can most certainly hide a small group from any mortal eyes that dare to look, if you don’t mind being a little tiny bit dishonorable about the business. But an entire sect? That’s a bit much, even for someone as talented and skilled as me.”

Her stepson looked up at her, all straight-steel sincerity and upright righteousness wrapped into a perfectly edible little snack-sized package. “If we split them up, the sect could be small groups,” he said eagerly. “Couldn’t you do something then?”

He was so cute, and he trusted her. He trusted her, believed in her, felt that she could perform miracles with a wave of her sleeve if only she so wished.

It was awful.

She couldn’t bear it.

“Oh all right, you nummy little slice of roast pork belly,” she said, yielding. “But I’m telling you now, it won’t be the least bit honorable! There’s only so many excuses you can come up with for having a lot of strong men with wide shoulders and women with thick thighs hanging around, and not a single one of them has the slightest bit to do with what you people consider to be appropriate.”

“That’s all right. Preserving human life comes first, always.”

The disciple looked between them, clearly completely confused. Clearly all his effort had been spent on developing the muscles in his arms (quite nice) rather than his brain (quite slow).

“What?” he said. “What’s happening?”

“We’re saving the sect,” Nie Mingjue announced happily, clapping his hands together. Too precious, too precious entirely; she’d have to make sure no one else even thought about going near her darling little snackling. “Tell everyone to prepare to evacuate.”

“That will take too long,” she said, and smiled, with teeth. “Let me call some friends to help.”

-

When the Wen sect arrived at the Unclean Realm, they found the gate open.

That was unexpected enough, but when they entered, they found that the entire place had emptied out – not just of people, but of everything else, too. There wasn’t a single intact chair or table in the entire place, not a scrap of cloth nor a bit of food, like it’d been swept clean by locusts or wild monkeys come to pilfer whatever they could.

Even the paving stones where arrays had been laid out by the Nie sect’s ancestors had been pried up and carted away.

Sect Leader Wen ordered a search, but there wasn’t any trace of it – of the people, of the stuff, anything.

No one ever found out what happened.

-

Jin Guangyao despised social events, he’d found.

It was one thing when it was something he’d planned himself, where the work was interesting enough to distract him, but when he was an honored guest for someone else…miserable. Utterly miserable.

The only thing more miserable was when the host was his erstwhile father, from whom he’d forcefully extracted recognition. With Wen Ruohan as his backer, indulging his favorite torturer as if a beloved pet, there wasn’t much Jin Guangshan could do to refuse, and neither could he force Jin Guangyao to do anything on his behalf, either. And so Jin Guangyao, sitting as always by Wen Ruohan’s side, right beneath his sons, was now an honored guest at his father’s house, getting offered his pick of prostitutes as if the man had no notion of the irony.

Maybe he didn’t. Jin Guangyao couldn’t quite tell if his father had just forgotten his origins, thinking his bastard son too unimportant to remember the details of, or whether it was meant as a deliberate insult – who could tell?

“Oh, right,” the simpering idiot in front of him, a nephew or cousin of some sort to the sect leader, said. “Our dear Jin Guangyao is known not to like the gentle flower queens, even when they come from the finest houses in Lanling. Isn’t that right, cousin?”

Jin Guangyao’s fists clenched. A deliberate insult, then.

Despite that, his face remained neutral. Instead, he chuckled and said, “The appeal is limited. After all, I have seen the best of them.”

Beside him, Wen Ruohan nodded and smirked. He appreciated Jin Guangyao’s devotion to his mother, though Jin Guangyao suspected it was because he thought it funny that Jin Guangyao would bother to honor such a lowly woman – but what he thought didn’t matter, not really. All that mattered was that he let Jin Guangyao pay his respects to her to his heart’s content.

“Well, you’re in luck!” the idiot Jin Zixun said, looking absurdly smug. “We have something of a different flavor than the usual tonight – we’ve invited entertainment from the local branch of Splendid Spring.”

Jin Guangyao barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes.

The Splendid Spring Palace was a series of brothels that had popped up fully formed just about everywhere some years back, with madams and girls and musicians and bodyguards of all sorts. It was so patently a political move that Jin Guangyao had barely bothered to pay attention to it once he’d become actually powerful, and Wen Ruohan hadn’t paid attention to it at all. After all, in the unlikely event that the business really was backed by a cultivation sect that didn’t care about its face any longer, anyone who needed to use such a façade to gather power was clearly beneath notice.

Jin Guangyao had paid only very little attention, but to different and unusual aspects of the place: by all accounts, they were surprisingly decent employers as far as places like that went. They didn’t steal girls or accept unwilling goods – they had some connection with the merchant caravans, or at least one of the companies that helped coordinate routes and provide protection to such things, and they were as meticulous about checking things over as they were about seeking refunds if they were dissatisfied – and they did accept married girls fleeing unhappy marriages, which not everyone did. They did buy up all the girls in the local markets wherever they were, but they swept them away and brought them back transformed, even the ones that wouldn’t sell because they were too ugly; Jin Guangyao assumed that meant they had people who were talented in make-up and clothing, since the usual rumors of the girls being blessed with a yao’s enchantment were obviously ridiculous and nothing more than the usual marketing gimmicks that brothels since time immemorial had tried.

Even once they had the girls in hand, the places were pretty decent: they had physicians on staff to help with the usual side effects of the business, made sure their girls were clean and healthy, and were said to even limit the number of customers a girl would be obliged to take on in a given evening…honestly, knowing as he did the brothel business, Jin Guangyao sometimes wondered how they’d managed to bespell enough people to even make money in the early days. At any rate, whatever they’d done, it’d worked, because by now they had a solid enough reputation to trade on.

In short: a decent enough place, far better than the usual run of the mill. Once he’d had the ability to do so, he’d even pulled a few strings and arranged for the better of his mother’s old compatriots to end up there, since he couldn’t convince them to leave their old professions behind entirely.

Anyway, if they also seemed to have a sideline in information brokering and assassinations, well, let them. In the cultivation world, where the only thing that mattered was strength, real strength.

A little thing like that wouldn’t make any real difference.

Or so Jin Guangyao had thought.

He found himself re-thinking that, though, when the entertainment in question came out. There were the usual set of attractive (albeit in a wider variety of shapes and sizes than usually seen) dancers, dressed up in silks that seemed actually high quality, and plenty of strapping young men carrying sabers – dancers as well, once assumed, to provide some spice to the entertainment, and implicitly on the offer for men who cut their sleeves or women with more flexibility, like widows or ones with especially permissive husbands. Wen Ruohan’s wives were in that latter category, and they were already whispering to each other excitedly, looking at them.

They’d even brought in the local madame, who was…

Well, she was actually breathtaking, even by Jin Guangyao’s extremely jaded standards. She had hair that fell almost all the way to her ankles, shimmering in the light, and dark eyes shining with liveliness, a smooth and ageless face that simultaneously suggested youth and health but also winked at knowable experience, the features characteristic of what his mother’s employers had called the ‘fox-face’. As if to emphasize that, the lady was wrapped in fox-fur and draped in embroidered brocade, with little stylized foxes running up and down the hems of her clothing and along the gazy silk draped on her shoulders.

It ought to have looked absurd, looked gaudy and overwrought and overdone, but it didn’t.

She was a thousand dreams of wealth and beauty and power and sex appeal all wrapped up in one, and even Jin Guangyao – who was in his personal preferences quite firmly a cutsleeve – couldn’t help but intrigued by her, wondering what it might be like to touch the hem of such a glorious creature.

And next to her…

The lady was accompanied by two men that seemed completely different from each other. One was a slender and winsome young man, fluttering his eyelashes from behind a fan with a charming smile, emanating the appeal of softness and weakness, ready to be indulged. While the other…

Jin Guangyao swallowed.

He was the exact opposite of the first man. Clearly strong, muscular and powerful, and tall to the point of towering, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist, a chest that you could lean your head against and an ass that begged to have someone’s hands on it – and there were his hands, big and broad, perfect for holding someone down or up if they so wished and of a size that was very promising as to what was only hinted at under his clothes. His face was hidden behind a veil as if he were a woman, marking him, like his comrade, as one of the available courtesans of the Splendid Spring, but his body was visible under clothing clearly cut to put it to the best advantage.

And oh, what advantages it had…!

“It seems we found something to the tastes of dear cousin Guangyao after all,” the idiot said mockingly, sniggering and snorting like the pig he was, and for once Jin Guangyao didn’t even care.

“Who’s the woman in front?” Wen Ruohan asked, ignoring their interplay. He seemed utterly fascinated, almost spellbound, and Jin Guangyao couldn’t blame him one bit. If this woman had been at the same brothel as his mother, there wouldn’t have even been room for jealousy or shame; his mother would have gone straight up to her to ask for some tips. “She seems…familiar, somehow.”

“That’s the madame of the Splendid Spring,” Jin Zixun said proudly, as if he’d done anything at all in relation to this – nonsense, of course. Everyone know which brothels were backed by the Jin sect, and Splendid Spring wasn’t one of them. He was acting as if he deserve a pat on the back just for the introduction! “That means she’s not for sale.”

His smile faded a little, twisting in a small bit of bitterness. “Or so she told my uncle, anyway…although I’m sure if it were Sect Leader Wen asking, the answer would undoubtedly be different.”

Probably because Jin Guangshan couldn’t slaughter prostitutes with impunity if they said no to him, whereas no one could stop Wen Ruohan from doing any damn thing he pleased.

Wen Ruohan grunted, pleased by the answer – he was a possessive man, in the rare events that he did exert himself in the realm of women, and there had been more than one instance where he’d stolen away some girl his sons had been eyeing first just for the joy of having had her first – and raised a hand, catching the lady’s eye and gesturing for her to come over, which she did.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She laughed. “You can call me Hu Jiuwei. With the ‘Hu’ being the character for fox.”

Jin Guangyao tried not to choke. There were false names and then there were false names – the lady’s theme was already clearly related to foxes, given her fox-face and fox-fur lining and the foxes embroidered onto her robes. Was the over-the-top name really necessary?

“It’s a fake name,” she added, unnecessarily.

“I see,” Wen Ruohan said, sounding a little choked himself. Possibly it was the woman calling herself ‘Foxy Ninetails’ and then kindly reassuring them all that the name was false as if she thought them too dumb to figure it out that was tripping him up a little. Jin Guangyao couldn’t tell if she was doing it deliberately in order to make her frankly inhuman beauty a little less frightening, or maybe she was blessed with so much beauty that she hadn’t bothered to cultivate her brain at all. “Are you our entertainment for the evening?”

She smiled, and any complaints Jin Guangyao (or indeed Wen Ruohan) might have had about her intelligence faded away at once.

It was that type of smile.

You could wreck nations with that type of smile. Jin Guangyao couldn’t help but wonder: how had a woman this extraordinary ended up in a brothel, of all places? How had no one snatched her up to keep her all for himself before now?

“My sons and I –” she gestured at the two behind her, “– would be more than happy to provide you with all the entertainment you could possibly want.”

Her smile widened.

“We’ve been hoping for an opportunity like this for a long time.”

[luimagines]

Waking Up Next to Him

Masterlist

Set platonically and within the adventure. It’s long so it goes under the cut!

Time

The bright sunlight winked just beyond your eyelids at an blinding angle. Your back was against warm though and was surprisingly comfortable despite the growing ache in your neck. There’s a weight over your shoulder, pinning you in place but doesn’t dig in. A thrown blanket is covering your body and the secret weight, even if half of it has ended up on the forest floor. You’re too tired to think of what the weight can be. All you know is that it’s comfortable and you don’t feel like moving. A heartbeat passes and the solid form on which you lay shifts. 

A groan.

More shifting.

Heat flushes your face slightly as you resign to get up, trying to play the whole cool, once you realize what, or rather who you passed out against.

“Mornin’ Time.”

Your pillow takes a minute to assess the situation.

It’s early, none of the others are up yet. Too tired from the journey the day prior, but the resident chef wakes up the earliest to cook breakfast on time. He’s asleep now but won’t be for long. You thank the stars and your luck that you woke up before him. No pictures for him to take this time.

Time grins, seemingly unbothered by the events and sighs good naturedly. “Good morning.”

Twilight

It was a cold night. They told you it would be. Both your traveling companions and the breeze as you settled with the day’s end.

But you couldn’t have guessed how cold it turned out to be.

Sleep didn’t come easy. Discomfort and shivers kept you awake. Your blankets were warm but not warm enough. At some point, in the middle of the night, you gain the warmth your tired brain was waiting for before drifting off to sleep. 

When you wake, you can’t breath.

Hairs tickle your mouth and nose and there’s a large and heavy being on top of you. At first you think it’s Wind because the shape is much to large to be four but smaller than some of your other companions.

Further analysis and you realize that it’s not hair but fur, that’s threating to enter your lungs and the color of the material seems awfully familiar.

“...Wolfie, I love you but you’re killing me. Get off.” You weakly push the beast away, not coherent enough to move your limbs and piece together how to be a functioning human yet.

The creatures blinks up at you, having just woken up as well and notices your open eyes. A yawn and crushed ribbed where he stepped to get off later and your freedom has been duel earned.

You take a breath of relief and grin, only now noticing the cold with the rising sun to be a little more barrable than the previous night.

“Thanks buddy, you’re a walking heater. I probably would have been a popsicle if it hadn’t been for you.” He nods in acknowledgment and swiftly turns away before you can reach behind his ears to thank him properly.

You look up and see Wild and Time already awake, not talking. Warrior looks to just have woken like you today. Not unusual but welcoming nonetheless. Wind and Sky probably won’t wake up for another hour or two and Hyrule and Four always wake up a little after them. No one knows for sure when Legend will get up because its never consistent and Twilight seems to be missing as well.

The ranch hand emerges from the tree line seconds after you realize he was gone to begin with. He smiles at you and waves in greeting.

You wave back and try to dust the wolf hairs off of your clothes.

You missed Twilight’s subtle smirk.

Warrior

It was a hard fight and not a safe place to stay put but the dungeon left you with little option. Separated from the group and low on provisions and healing items, you and Warrior realize that your both running low on fumes. Taking refuge in a secluded corner, hopefully far away from any potential monsters and threats, you rest.

Waking up is hell.

Sleeping back to back was probably not the best idea but neither of you wanted to risk an ambush. Shifts were supposed to be taken but given that you both fell asleep says something about your energy levels and the previous fights.

Your neck hurts, your legs are sore, your butt and hips are not thanking you for the treatment and everything ache will familiar but expected battle wounds. None major but each one takes its toll.

“You up?” Warrior stands up as if he wasn’t bleeding from the shoulder yesterday and he also didn’t sleep sitting for who knows how many hours.

“I am clearly sitting Captain.” You mutter. “I am not up. I refuse to be up.”

“You know as well as I do that we have to get to the others. What if they need help?”

“I’d argue we need the help. Everything hurts. We have no fairies and there’s more dungeon ahead of us with obviously more enemies and traps and puzzles...” The puzzles... were the worst. “Just five more minutes....Please?”

Warrior says your name in a way a tired mother tries to get her stubborn child to listen to reason. His face twists at the idea and when he attempts to look over his shoulder to check your surroundings, it instead contorts in a pained grimace.

So his shoulder pain was still there after all.

“Fine. Five minutes.”

Sky

As expected, Sky goes down for the count within the first few minutes of the mandated lunch break. Unfortunately after a rumble or two and strange smoke coming from the distance that decidedly wasn’t there when you first arrived, the group decided to investigate.

Legend goes to shake Sky’s shoulder in an attempt to wake him but it’s all in vain.

Sticks are drawn after a long and loud argument about what to do and yours in the shortest.

Everyone else goes to check out the commotion and you are stuck with babysitting duty. It’s not bad all things considered- he’s asleep- no actual babysitting happening. But part of you can help but grumble about missing the action so you sit non too gently next to him and decidedly not pout.

Your stomach is full and the sun light begins to feel heavy and warm and nice.

Your eyes close before you can fight it.

Some time later, you’re shaken awake. Adrenaline fills your system instantly but upon seeing the laughing face of Sky himself, you remember yourself and only marginally resist the urge punch him.

“Feel better?” You ask instead.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He chuckles and points to his chin.

You wipe across the area and your hands comes back wet, cold and covered in drool. 

“You saw nothing.”

“Oh sure, but Wind did.”

Great.

Now it’s on his pictobox. That’s blackmail material in his favor, you suppose and refuse to acknowledge it further.

Wild

When you wake up, it’s still dark. Not even close to sunrise.

The fire burns bright and warm throughout the area but it’s not the fire that’s keeping you warm.

You also find out you can’t move.

You crane your head slightly to find long hair draped over your shoulder and a familiar scarred ear belonging to the resident champion.

He wrapped around you completely, hugging you tightly and pining you down with a leg to boot. 

You attempt to shimmy out but his grip tightens instead.

You sighed and watch as Twilight comes into view. He crouches closer and squats on Wild’s side, whispering to you. “Do you need help getting out? I can wake him to take over Hyrule’s shift for the night.”

You take a minute to rethink about your position. It’s not painful. The opposite actually. It feel nice. You’ve seen Wild cling to who ever he can get his hands on when he sleeps so you’re not surprise. 

You don’t need to pee or leave anytime soon anyway.

“No, I think I’m good actually.” You reply, whispering as well. “Let him sleep, it’s been a day for everyone.”

Twilight nods and leaves, but not without looking back once or twice in case you changed your mind.

You shimmy back in place and allow yourself to be held by your friend. 

Sleep comes easier this time.

Hyrule

Gentle fingers card through your hair. Warmth, magic and the unusual feeling of safety plague your mind. Confusion hits you but the alarm that typically follows never comes.

“Oh thank goodness, you’re awake.” A voice fills your ears. It’s muffled and must have been quiet to begin with because you can’t make out who said it yet. 

Organizing your thoughts feels like traveling through knee high mud.

Your eyes blink open and the light comes through.

The Traveler is leaning over you, thankfully blocking out most of the sun from immediately assaulting you. 

“Hyrule?”

“You had us worried for a minute.” He visually sags with relief, a tired smile on his face and leans back. “You took quite a hit.”

Your head feels swollen but as Hyrule continues to push your hair back it dissipates as time passes. Your thoughts clear and with his help, you sit up.

A hand places itself by your temple. It takes a half second before you realize it’s yours.

It comes back covered in dried blood.

Sky runs over after tending to Four with what looks like a bloodied wet cloth. He sits down slowly and begins to clean your head in a familiar fashion.

“Thank you. Both of you.” You tired voice comes through and a worn out smile follows soon after.

“Anytime.”

Wind

It’s nice day. 

According to some people.

Dark clouds cover the sky, the sun nowhere to be seen. It pours cats and dogs and the only cover for miles is a lone cave where your group currently takes up residence. Everyone’s wet and your clothes feel heavy and cold. No one is happy. 

Wild, Twilight and Legend dive deeper, intending to check out if any monsters reside in the cave.

Hyrule insisted on traveling with them but Warrior’s concussion and Time’s bleeding leg call for further attention and Legend claims to have more magic restorative potions than healing potions.

He stays behind.

Four and Sky take over the food while he’s distracted, trying to make a half decent meal before he intervenes.

Wind is groaning, sore and bored but otherwise unharmed.

You don’t make any comments at your own pain, biting your tongue and taking a deep breath. As you lean against the stone wall, Wind stomps up next to you and sits down with purpose.

“I could’ve gone with them.” He slams his fist into his cheek with his elbow on his knee.

“But you didn’t. It’s not so bad.” You said.

“They didn’t want me to go.”

“You’ll live.”

“I’m just as good as them you know.”

“I know and you make a better pillow.” You says, throwing yourself sideways with your head landing on his lap. He squawks indignantly and attempts to push you off but you hold on. “Sorry, you make the best pillow.”

“NOOOO!”

“YEEEESSS!”

“Nooooo.” Wind keeps his hands on your back but you’ve misjudged your exhaustion. You’re out in seconds.

A moment passes.

“Hey, hey, hey.... wake up. You have to eat.” A small hand shakes your shoulder.

“Hm?” You blinked tiredly. There’s a bowl if front of your face and you don’t hesitate to grab it. “Thanks.”

“You’re heavy.” A voice calls from behind. The owner lets you take the bowl and begins to gently push you off into a sitting position. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“It was supposed to be a joke but thanks for letting me sleep.” You admit and smile at the pirate. 

“You trapped me.” He pokes your side, trying to look annoyed but falling flat. There’s a joke in there somewhere. You’re missing something.

The others have come back while you were out of it, all either have hidden smiles or failing to hide their shaking shoulders and snickers.

Curious and a little self conscious you looks into the provided meal, your reflection greeting you as always.

A lightbulb goes off over your head.

“DID YOU DRAW ON MY FACE?!”

Four

There’s a force dragging you down but there’s two arms under you.

It’s very concerning for a moment but then....the size of them catches up to you.

Your head snaps up and comes face to face with a very surprised Four.

“Hello.”

“...Hi.”

“Lovely weather we’re having, don’t you think?””

“You’re leading with that?” Four snorts and continues walking, unbothered by your weight in his arms.

“How...?” You trail off trying to find the right words to explain what happening to you. You don’t feel any pain and nothing feels injured....but the lack of memories is a little concerning.

“How am I holding you?” Four smirks as he guesses incorrectly. “I’m stronger than I look.”

“I was going to ask how did I fall unconscious. I don’t remember anything. I’m more surprised by that than the fact that you’re holding me despite being half my size.” You blinked and try to keeping searching through your memory.

Nothing comes up.

“Wizrobe.” Four answers causally with a shrug. “It caused some chaos, fought another wizrobe and you got caught in the cross fire between the two of them before we could intervene. Their attacks canceled each other out well enough that you weren’t actually injured but uhh..... Well I suppose you’ll figure it out sooner or later.”

“Four.” You glare in warning.

“Maybe don’t look at your reflection for a while. Legend, Twilight and Hyrule all agree that it’ll fade with time but...”

“What are you talking about? What happened to me?” You sit up a little in his grip, Your arm reach over his shoulders and something wrong catches your eyes.

Your skin is green.

Your shocked silence stills your entire body. Four winces once he follows your eye line and stops to place you on your own feet.

“It could be worse?”

You stare a little while longer and look back to Four with hopeful eyes. “Think you can knock me out again?

He’s not amused.

Legend

You blissfully wake up for the first time in a week. 

It’s been an easy week in terms of travel and attacks so the boys take it upon themselves to cause trouble and it hasn’t been merciful to your sleep schedule.

They are the very incarnation of that thing your hometown friend used to say. How did it go again? If there’s no trouble then I’ll create it? Something along those lines.

But this is different and you don’t plan on wasting it.

You close your eyes and attempt to go back to sleep while you can but hushed voices reached your ears, keeping you awake before you can tune them out.

“Should we wake them?”

“You know how Legend is. He can be as bad as Sky and he had a rough night to boot.”

“But he’s right on top of them and they promised to show me how to fight in hand to hand combat.”

“You have all day for that and they didn’t say it was going to be today.”

“But I‘m excited! I want to start as soon as possible.”

“Will you idiots keep it down?” A voice by your shoulder speaks up. It lacks the usual snark it posses but the intention for venom is there. “Some people took double shifts last night. Shut up.”

You breath a small sigh of relief as the voices abruptly cut off and don’t return for a long minute.

The body next to you stills.

Three heartbeats pass and the unnoticed weight gets off of you.

You pretend to be asleep still, not wanting him to push you away so early in your relationship. He’s just started to get used to you.

You’re determined to be his friend before everything ends.

He’s determined to avoid that.

It’s been a battle of wills.

An unstoppable force meets an unmovable object.

But this could tip the scales in his favor if you fail to play it off correctly.

“No one say anything.” Legend hisses. “Not. One. Word.”

You make the mistake of stretching. 

“You’re up! You’re up! You’re up!” Wind practically pounces on you, knocking his name sake out of your lungs and demolishing any chances for a peaceful morning. “We can start now!”

“Can I eat first at least?” You groan out, not bothering to fight him off.

“Wind. Off.” Time calls out and the boy follows the command without question. He quickly kneels by your side though, practically vibrating on the spot.

You sit up and look around.

Looks like you were the last one up.

“Morning everybody.” You smile. You glance at Legend who unluckily has the tips of his ears tinted red. His arms are crossed and he’s avoiding looking at you, even greeting you as the rest of the group return your call.

You smirk. “Good morning Legend. Did you sleep well?”

He huffs and turns away completely, taking a few steps to leave.

You get to your feet, shadowed by Wind and head to take your share of the food from Wild.

A beat passes without any words exchanged and you tilted your head innocently at the Veteran. You refuse to let it be awkward between you so you pretend you know nothing.

The blush travels down his ears to his face and neck. “I did. Thanks for asking.”

[ninjastormhawkkat]

The Church Grim hopped from the couch Archie placed him on. Archie was glad he put the dog down before that dirt bath. The decaying dog then marched over to Evangeline and gave a small, happy bark as his tail wagged. “It looks like he likes you.” Blur commented. Evangeline gave a small smile at the dog and knelt down to the creature. The Church Grim happily let her pick him up and rewarded her kind act with kisses, which grossed a few people out. “Aww, you are a friendly little guy. Whoever your owner was before you died must have treated you well.” Evangeline cooed. She noticed a faded dog collar and dog tag around the Church Grim’s neck. The tag was old but the text was still somewhat visible. ‘Zosimos? That’s a unique name.’ Evangeline wondered to herself. She also wondered what a Church Grim was doing around these parts as well. A knock on the door gathered everyone’s attention. “Looks like pops is here.” Gene said, giving a warning glare to Evangeline. She looked a bit surprised to learn this man was Matthew’s child, though he did have similar facial features to the old man she saw. Evangeline put Zosi down much to the dog’s displeasure. Gene opened the door for Matthew and let the man inside. Evangeline and Matthew soon locked eyes. Everyone around them could suddenly feel the cold and tense atmosphere surrounding them. “Evangeline.” Matthew simply said in a professional yet cold voice. Evangeline frowned with remorse, she could still see twinges of fear in his eyes hiding behind the anger. “Hello again, Matthew.” Evangeline replied. “So my son said you wanted to see me personally.” Matthew exclaimed, cutting to the chase. Evangeline nodded. “Yes, I wanted to keep you out, but after learning some things. I believe you are the key to helping free the others trapped by Myra and her allies.” Matthew looked at her with confusion. “You must be mistaken. My was nothing but a spineless woman who did everything Drake told her.” Matthew growled. Evangeline furiously shook her head. “No, you may have believed that but that isn’t true. Drake wasn’t in charge, he was just a follower. They weren’t even siblings, yet they were still related by blood.” Evangeline exclaimed in a grim tone. Everyone looked shocked and stunned, none more so than Matthew. “What…what are you talking about?” He asked, looking confused. Evangeline let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know exactly how old Myra is, but she is old, very old. Drake is her descending great nephew. They made that lie so no one would suspect she is immortal. I’m not sure on all the details, but she used magic to gain immortality so she was a practitioner. Matthew, you didn’t know this, I didn’t know until it was too late, but neither Drake nor Myra could be killed except by demonic or angelic forces.When Wordman told me you killed Drake, I knew that must mean you had demon or angel blood within you. It allowed you to kill them. It allowed you to break the deal Drake had. “ Evangeline exclaimed in a frantic tone. “I…I do have demon blood, from my deadbeat father Corbin who was a demon. Something I learned recently.” Matthew admitted, which earned a shocked look from Blur. Atomic muttered, “Of course you would be one” which earned him glares from Tristan and Gene, telling him to shut up. “But what deal are you talking about? What deal did Drake and Myra make to keep them alive?” Matthew demanded. Evangeline paused before looking at Matthew with a grim expression. “They made a deal…to become acolytes with the Unspoken Ones.” Evangeline replied. @dualnaturedscientist

"Hold on a minute, some weird guy is staring at me. Probably some bum trying to get change off of me." Comments like that had ensured he would absolutely be relieved of guilt for what was to happen next. A smile spreads across the figure's facial features, revealing inhumanly sharp teeth glinting in the street lights. A hand quickly shot out, taking a hold of the rather obnoxious man. "What the hell are you doing-" A scream soon pierced the quietness of the night. It quickly became a horrendous gurgling noise. The cellphone in the man's hand had fallen in the process. Leaving the person on the other end to become worried and confused about what was happening to the man. It didn't take very long for the man to become completely still. The figure allows him to finally fall to the cement below, licking at his blood stained lips in satisfaction. "The night, it is still so young. I don't think I shall waste another minute on you." Like a ghost in the night, he had vanished. As if he were never there. Leaving only the grotesque mess he had made for others to find. Unknown to him, there was a witness to this who had seen the whole thing. Watching in complete and utter fear. The figure grinned, it was as if he were seeing the world through different eyes. The opportunities that awaited him. It sent a shiver of excitement up his spine. His thirst might have satiated but he wasn't satisfied with only that. Oh no. There was so much more he had in mind for this city. Just wait till morning until they discover his little surprise for all to see. It wasn't until hours later did he finally return to the house. Feeling pleased with himself. Carl shot up in bed, heart racing so fast within his chest. Calming down once realizing he was in bed with Matthew. It took the retired scientist to recognize his surroundings. "That's right.. we're at Gene's place." The dream he had woken up from was already fading from his memory. It was rather absurd, recalling what he could. He could've sworn the dream was incredibly vivid and felt so real. But the little bits of the dream that he did remember became fuzzy and distant in his mind. Carl wasn't as quiet as he thought. Matthew had woken up. "Love, are you okay?" His voice had brought Carl from his thoughts. "Matthew, dearest. I hadn't meant to wake you up." He frowned, feeling guilty as he wanted his husband to get as much rest as needed. "It's alright, I needed to get up early anyway. Don't feel bad, my darling. I'm worried about you, though.” He gave Matthew a smile. “It was just a dream. I was just startled from a dream. I don't even remember what happened in it anymore. I'll be fine.” Matthew pulled the other into his arms, holding him in such a comforting manner. Placing a loving kiss to Carl's forehead. “Even so, I've still got you.” The former scientist blushed. Matthew still had such an effect on him even after all this time. “Thank you, my love.” They had stayed like that for a good while. It wasn't until Carl noticed the time that he forced Matthew to get out of bed and to get ready for his community service. Though there was something that had been bothering Carl since waking up. He had not remembered going back to bed after his conversation with Gene last night. No matter how much he tried to, it just kept coming up blank to him. Carl sighed, he must've been that tired that he didn't remember. He was getting up there in age. “I could stay back. Margaret won't be very happy about it but I don't want to leave you if you're not okay.” Carl smiled once more. “I'm not going to be responsible for what she'd do if you tried. You're also expecting a new face there, aren't you?” Matthew looked surprised at that. He had completely forgotten about that. And Carl did make a point. Wincing at the thought of what Margaret might do if he actually did skip out on it. Though for Carl, it would've been absolutely worth it. Whatever punishment she'd dole out, he'd endure for his dearest husband. “Go get dressed now.” Matthew chuckled at that before doing as he said. Leaving Carl to this thoughts.

Carl still felt unsettled by the dream, it was like he was walking through a mist. Yet at the same time it was like someone or something was controlling his body and actions. The dream was scary, but also ludicrous. At one point Carl thought he saw someone who looked like his old narcissus ex boyfriend who he never thought about again until now. Carl just let out a sigh and shook his head. 'It was just a nightmare.' Carl reassured himself. He remembered how reading how the mind and senses can trick the body into thinking something is real when it isn't. His strange dream was just one of those cases. Carl decided to get out of bed and go downstairs. He was going to try and help his son and other son-in-law deal with this strange and frightening case of kidnapping. Carl pushed away the issue of the nightmare and headed downstairs, ignoring the feeling of dread in the back of his mind. Carl also did not pay attention to that fact that his mouth was no longer dry and that there was no glass cup on the nightstand when he got up that morning. Atomic Steele surveyed the area with caution and an intense gaze. He was going over the area looking for something out of the ordinary. Something that had bothered his friend and teammate Electric Blur. Something in this seemingly abandoned area affected Blur's powers. "I wasn't sure what just happened. It felt like I was suddenly communicating emotionally with a strange energy wave that was being transmitted from there. I felt uneasy and scared...but also sad for some reason." That is what Blur told Atomic when she came back to their hideout looking shaken and worried. She told him she never felt anything like that before, not even from the fallen B.E.A.W labs. Atomic Steele offered to check it out for her as the young heroine wasn't keen on returning to the spot. While Electric Blur was being comforted by her other teammates, Atomic followed the directions the heroine had given him to the location where she felt the strange and unsettling energy. What Atomic Steele found when he got there was a large but abandoned warehouse surrounded by an empty field. The area was surrounded by a rusted, wired fence. The place looked like it hadn't been used for years. Still, the normally brave yet brash young hero couldn't help but feel a child go up his spine. His gut and instincts telling him there is something dangerous here, something evil. Atomic Steele walked up to the doors of the warehouse. He grabbed at a rusted handle and tried opening it. To the hero's surprise and growing caution, the door easily unlocked. Atomic Steele took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. He then proceeded inside the warehouse in a slow pace, ready to discover what laid inside. "Oh hello there Matthew. Cutting it a bit close are we." Miss Dewey lightly teased the former villain as he just came into the library to start his community service. "Sorry about that Miss Dewey. I had some problems this morning but I'm here now." Matthew replied, feeling a bit embarrassed about cutting things close. He really didn't want to leave Carl and Gene alone during the family crisis that was happening but at the same time he really didn't want to test the limits of his second chance at freedom from prison. Miss Dewey gave the man a look of sympathy and concern. "You know, if there is a serious problem going on at home, I wouldn't mind helping you fill out some forms to request a temporary leave from your community service." The librarian offered. Matthew smiled in appreciation at her kind gesture. "Thank you Miss Dewey but I'll be alright." Matthew responded. "So has the new service worker arrived yet?", the former villain asked. Miss Dewey smiled and nodded. "Yes he is here. Matthew, allow me to introduce you to Frank Leigh." Matthew glanced over to the man Miss Dewey introduced. He looked to be a few years older than Victor but still younger than Matthew and Carl. He had dark hair and light, blueish gray eyes. The man gave a friendly wave to Matthew. "Hi nice to meet you." Frank spoke in a kind tone. @dualnaturedscientist

[spice-chan]

Cure Me

King!singledad! Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader

Prince Matsuki makes an interesting friend. he could have never foretold who she is to his father...

TW: curses, sickness

Thank you so much to @stargazingaloneatnight for sending this lovely request ! I totally got carried away though, so it’s going to have a second part. 

Thanks a lot to @patt-writes-stuff and @reddriot for being amazing beta readers !!

Wordcount: 4.4 K

..........................................

At the ripe age of 18, you were married off to the woodcutter in your village. 

You weren’t enthusiastic about it, but you didn’t dissent. After all, in a small village, all the people of close age were expected to marry eventually. It was either him, the farmer or the butcher. A prince isn’t going to come and sweep you off your feet.

You moved to the isolated cabin near the woods where your husband resided, and you lived there with him for a year. You wouldn’t exactly describe it as harmony, but it was peaceful enough for you to be content. He respected you and you respected him, but you yearned for something more.You yearned for love, for the overwhelming feeling that would envelope you whole, that would elicit shivers from your spine, and down to your very toes. 

But you had to get those foolish fantasies out of your head; after all, your husband was now all you had. Until you didn’t have him anymore. 

His body was found, squashed underneath a large tree that fell the wrong way. 

Guilt and loss reigned in your mind and heart. You wondered, should you have appreciated him more ? Should you have cherished the little moments instead of wishing for something better? 

It was a lonely existence for a while after that, until a red eyed, spikey haired little boy ventured to your isolated abode. 

………

Loneliness was a disease that feasted on your open wounds until they were gaping holes, bleeding and gushing, but you were unable to stitch them back together. Who wants to be lonely, truly? So all Bakugo did was cover the open wounds with his hand, growling protectively as he shielded himself. And he couldn’t stitch together the hole in his chest, even when his hand was stained red as evidence of his pain. 

He thought he loved her. He convinced himself he loved her. The only woman and person who seemingly managed to stand him and understand him. He tried so hard to be good to her. Tried to act better when he saw the gleam of judgement in her eyes. Only to wake up one day with a letter telling him “don’t look for me” and “I’ll be somewhere better. Away from you and that spawn. Good luck with him, though you’ll probably have enough soon and throw him somewhere far, the sound of his cries is annoying.” 

Him. 

She couldn’t bring herself to say her son’s name. 

It’s like he was a disposable piece of trash to her. Katsuki’s teeth gnashed whenever he remembered the way she spoke of her own son, his son. 

“DAD!” screamed a little boy, the carbon copy of his dad, running to his father's lap where he ducked down and hid between them. 

Bakugo growled playfully, bending his back to look at the excitable little boy, who held his finger to his lips. 

“What do you think you’re doing, squirt?” 

“I’m hiding from Shitty Maid.” 

Katsuki quirked his eyebrows at the foul language that came out of his son’s mouth, but his response never made the light of day as a flustered and heaving maid entered the dining chamber, her eyes frantically searching. 

“My king, I’m so sorry ! Have you seen Prince Matsuki come here ?” she questioned breathlessly, the prince having evidently tired her out. 

Bakugo clicked his teeth rather impertinently. “No, you shitty maid, I didn’t see him come here,” he replied and resumed eating, seemingly unperturbed by his son being ‘missing’. 

“Sorry, Your Majesty, I’ll resume my search for him. Sorry to have disturbed you!” she exclaimed before picking her gown and scrambling out. 

Bakugo stared beneath his chair pointedly, his carbon copy only giving doe eyes as a reply. 

“Why are you hiding anyway?!”

Matsuki crawled out from underneath the chair and stood up, dusting his knees. 

“She wants to teach me eti-etiquette or whatever,” Matsuki grumbled. “I’m going out to play with my friends.” 

Etiquette? How useless. Is that what they are teaching his son? 

Bakugo clapped his back, glad to see his son not be a pushover. “Don’t be late, squirt.”

“Ok, dad!” Matsuki jumped and enveloped Katsuki’s muscular frame in a hug with his tiny arms, warming Katsuki’s heart as he ruffled his son’s spiky hair. 

……..

Matsuki couldn’t find his friends. 

He ventured into the woods in search of them, sporting a scowl everyone should be familiar with. His tiny, handsome face scrunched slightly as he looked around the place curiously. His feet padded on, scrunching on crispy fallen leaves in their wake. 

He walked for a while, marking trees as he went along to ensure he didn’t get lost, but eventually, a sugary sweet scent had his tiny legs move faster on their own accord in search of it. The closer he seemingly got, the more powerfully the mouth watering scent assaulted his nose. It smelled cozy on this chilly day, like a warm cup of milk by a warm fire as snow fell outside.

He reached a clearing. The thick, intimidating trees that loomed over him shrunk away until there was none left. 

No trees, but he found a small cabin with a window cracked open. 

He boldly marched up to it, his mouth set in a straight, determined line. A fisted palm knocked once, twice, and thrice on the worn out wood, to ensure that it was heard. 

His nervousness set in when the handle turned and a lady emerged at the threshold. He steeled himself. His daddy told him that if he wanted something, he should work to get it. 

You smiled at him warmly when you spotted him: a young, unfamiliar boy. He looked out of his element, but his strange red eyes stared at you despite how he seemed to be unused to such situations. His eyes reflected the embers of a brave soul. 

“There was a nice smell coming from here,” he admitted, his tiny face scrunching into a scowl that seemed more adorable than anything.

“Well, yes, I baked cookies,” you responded mildly, your voice never too high but quite clear. The boy’s eyes widened, his red hues glistening in child-like excitement.

“Cookies?!”  He jumped, and clutched your gown. 

“Can I have some ?” Puppy dog eyes stared up at you, pleading and cute. You haven’t encountered a child in a long time. You stopped going to the village as often, and eventually, they stopped visiting too. Your mother died after she contracted something, her old body unable to fight it off, and your dad ran off somewhere to ‘adventure’. 

“Sure.” You moved from the threshold. “Come in.” You gestured with your head to your small cottage, a humble place, but a reminder of your lonesome existence. 

He brightened up considerably, his mouth twisting into a sweet smile. He would become such a handsome young man once he grew up. It made you wonder how beautiful his parents must be. 

You pulled a chair for him at the table, and went to put some cookies on a plate for him. 

“YUM. That’s so delicious!” He spoke between mouthfuls, some tiny crumbs flying out of his mouth in his excitement. 

“Thank you, but be careful. You might choke if you speak while chewing sweetie,” you chided him lightly. Matsuki didn’t recognize this tone, it sounded equal parts stern and caring. He nodded and continued munching down. 

“Would you like to drink something? I have some orange juice, and uh, water. I could make tea, but I don’t think kids your age fancy that you rambled, suddenly excited about having someone keep you company for the first time in a while. 

He opened his mouth to answer, but upon remembering your words, he opted to chew for a few more seconds then swallowing his cookies before bellowing out,“Yes! Orange juice.” 

How adorable. 

You poured two glasses of orange juice and joined your little companion, munching on some cookies of your own. Before long, he finished all of them and leaned back on the chair, mouth letting out a sigh and hand patting his stomach as a show of overindulgence. 

“Good?” 

“Yup! You’re a very nice lady. Way nicer than my dummy maid,” he grumbled, you weren’t sure whether to be flattered or concerned, but one thing did grab your attention. 

“Maid ?” 

He nodded, slightly confused at your question. 

“Don’t you have one ?” You quirked an eyebrow and looked around your tiny cottage. Did it look like you have one? 

Oh God, you hoped this boy wasn’t mistaking his mother for a maid. With that in mind, you asked him, however, his face fell in sadness and the fire in his eyes dulled a little. 

“I don’t have a mother. The maids always talk about how sorry they are for me. I hate it. None of them even care about me,” he spoke in a quiet voice, tearing at your heart with his down turned face. 

“But at least I have my daddy,” he spoke up, brightening a little. You smiled at that, reaching towards him and ruffling his fluffy yet spikey blond hair. 

“That’s good. Keep cherishing your father, at least the two of you have each other.” You wiped some crumbs from around his mouth with a napkin, speaking to the boy in a lonesome voice; unintentionally mothering him. 

He smiled and nodded;unintentionally accepting. 

The boy was either mistaking some people in his household for maids, or he was some rich merchant’s son. On that note—

“Did you tell anyone you’re coming here? They might be worried about you,” you asked cautiously, but then your eyes widened as a new wave of worry hit you. 

“Oh my God, what if you got lost? Do you know your way back?” 

You sighed in relief when he nodded, flashing you a smile with his teeth on display, one of them missing from the front, making it all the more endearing. You narrowed your eyes at him, prompting him to elaborate. 

“I always come to play around here with my friends. It’s really close to home!” You oo’d. However, it was now his turn to panic. “Oh no, I forgot all about them !” He looked outside, seeing the sun shining proudly in the centre of the sky. 

“I think I can still catch them,” he declared determinedly, and hopped off his seat. His tiny legs carried him to the door, his pale hand grasping the worn down doorknob, but before twisting it, he turned to you, his smile of youth gracing his face again. 

“See you later, nice lad !”

.……..……

“No way! You wanted to be a pirate? But they’re so nasty!” he exclaimed, scrunching his nose at you in disgust. You shrugged, shoulders slumped. 

“I thought it’d be a fun time. I found it in a book and dreamed that one day, I too can embark on an adventure and find hidden treasures,”you explained with a dreamy, yet nostalgic look in your eyes, akin to one looking back fondly at a long gone memory. It’s been nearly a year since you met the mystery child. You’ve been...noticeably happier. 

His cherry red orbs made your day, along with an innocence that was very hard to maintain in these tough times, although that's probably because his toughness differs from yours. 

He pouted, running a hand through his tamed locks. “Well, why can’t you?” 

He stared up at you expectantly, oblivious to what he was expecting. His red orbs burwith ith the flame of innocenand and didnuldn’t dare blow it out. 

“I don’t know.” 

Even for his young age, he was perceptive. Bbut before he could question your downtrodden face, you stood up, coughing loudly. It went on for a few seconds, and Matsuki watched worriedly as you cupped your hand over your mouth, shoulders shaking from the force. 

After you stopped, you breathed for a few seconds, face flushed and stamina depleted. But again, before he could question anything, you stood up, stretching. The sun hit your face, which looked noticeably paler, but you forced a smile anyway, and held your hand out for Matsuki to grab and follow suit. 

“Let’s go inside, you wanted me to redo your hair, right ?” He grabbed your hand with renewed vigor, hopping off the wood and trekking with you back inside the cottage. 

He said his maid had to slick his hair back because they had guests over and he ‘had to look more presentable’, which you internally scoffed at. His hair was amazing as it was. 

You’d never seen a texture so amazing. It was soft as silk, but it appeared spikey. Like a porcupine or something, looked thorny but had a soft side? 

You brought some water and wet his hair, before drying it with a towel. You could already see some results. You brought a hairbrush and began to hum softly while brushing his semi dry blond locks. 

You towelled it once again, before patting him across the back. Your head felt light, and a light pain began to creep in. You probably need some water. 

“THANK YOU! It was so ugly before.” He pranced about, happy that his hair no longer looked like some ‘sappy extra’. You wonder where the child got those interesting phrases. You stood up to get a glass of water, but the moment you stood up, the world swirled, spinned, and blurred. And then it all faded to black. 

You hit the floor with a loud thump, and Matsuki sprung to his feet and frantically ran to your side. 

His small hands grabbed your arm and shook you, his face growing warm and throat getting clogged up, before tears burst forth. They dampened your sleeves, continuously flowing like a waterfall, but you still remained almost lifeless on the floor. Matsuki was young, helpless, and alone. 

And he did what any young, helpless and crying child would do. 

He ran to the person he loves —his father. 

……………

Bakugou heard the sound of Matsuki running before h, felt the wind, tornado like, as the doors of his room were pushed open in a manner so excitable he’d consider it rather insolent had it not been his own son. 

 His reprimands were stuck in his throat when he saw the flushed face and bloodshot eyes of his shis heart aching at the sight. 

“What’s wongh” he asked softly, the tone rather unusual coming from him. Then again, his son coming to him crying was something very rare.oo., Matsuki took after his  and and he was a very brave and strong boy. Something that Bakugou lamented about, at times. Being his carbon copy wasn’t that much of a blessing when it came to the matters of the heart. 

Matsuki found his dad sitting at his desk, he ran to him and clung to his legs, crying uncontrollably. 

It took Bakugou a second to overcome his awkwardness and emotional constipation. He scooped his son up and sat him on his lap, wiping his tears away. 

“Hey squirt, calm down and tell me what���s wrong. If it’s someone that upset you, God help them-” 

Matsuki tried to halt his hiccups, failing for a few seconds while he hugged his dad, he patted his back comfortingly. 

“Dad, my friend…” he began, but his eyes watered as a fresh batch of tears threatened to burst. 

“What happened to your friend, Matsuki?” 

Matsuki sniffled, wiping his eyes before continuing. 

“So, she’d been sick for a few weeks, but today when I visited her, she fell and wouldn’t wake up,” Matsuk explainedd, clutching into Bakugou tightly. 

Bakugou hummed, nodding solemnly. 

“Can you take me where your friend is?” 

Matsuki nodded, but Katsuki was dubious about the nature of this pursuit. His distrustful nature was shining through.If this ‘friend’ was outside the protective barrier, then Katsuki didn’t know what to really expect. So before leaving his room, he donned his protective amber around his neck, a magical jewel chosen by his dragon when he was younger. All shifters choose an enchanted jewel to guard their existence and warn them of dangers. He made sure to pick up his son’s, looping the necklace around his neck, the jewel dangling and shining. 

He needed to give his son a talk about this. 

…………

They walked in the forest for a while before reaching a small, worn out looking cottage. Bakugou arched a blond eyebrow, more curious than ever. He’d think it was a ploy with more sinister intentions, luring both prince and king but… he’d never seen his son more shook up over someone, they must mean a lot to him. He couldn’t bear to delay this. 

They reached the door, the wood creaking as Bakugo opened it. His ruby eyes started searching for you, and when they caught your figure on the floor, they began gleaming. 

He felt the breath knocked out of him when he saw you, asleep (he hoped) like an angel with your hair looking wild but still adding to your charm like a halo. You looked so soft, so precious, and it felt like his life only began this moment when he caught sight of you. 

His heartbeat was so strong, he could feel it in his very eyes, who were overwhelmed with the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He had seen plenty of beautiful women, ones he didn’t spare a second glance at, extras, unworthy of his time. But for some reason, the beauty of you rooted him in his spot and halted all rational thoughts. He was only broken out of his reverie when Matsuki shook him. He felt a rush of love, devotion, and ease like he’d never felt before. It all made sense, the sense of loneliness, of being lost when his path is clear in front of him. Of finding every potential romantic partner lukewarm at best. 

“Dad. Can you help her ? I don’t want her to be sick anymore.”

And in that moment, it dawned on him. 

Katsuki found his soulmate, but there’s a chance he might have already lost her. 

He ran to you checking your vitals, and thankfully, everything seemed fine. He put his forehead against yours, cursing when he felt a scalding fever. 

“What happened ?” He picked one of the numerous questions buzzing in his head. 

“Well, she did my hair like I’d asked her, but the moment she stood up, she fell down! I tried waking her up, but she wouldn’t. She’d been coughing a lot the past few weeks too and looking tired,” Matsuki explained clearly, now comforted by having his father share the weight with him. 

Katsuki looked around at the rather shabby place. Fit for a commoner. Not you. 

He was baffled at having a mate. Only the most legendary, wise and favoured dragons did, the dragons that made it to history scriptures. Things no one considered him to be. Things he was succumbing to not being. Things she convinced him he wasn’t. Sure, he could fight deadly wars, bring nations down to their knees, but violence did not warrant a soulmate. 

He scoop you up, closer to his chest. Heyouyou tightly, heart physically hurting at the thought of you being in pain. He just met you, what’s with him ? 

He stood up, nudging his son to leave. 

What a coincidence. An insane, crazy coincidence. 

His son, his only blessing in this shrouded world, was what led him to the one thing nobody thought he’d have. 

“Tell me more on the way.

Matsuki nodded. 

……………

Bakugou laid you on his bed, surrounding you with the softest materials one could ever touch. He pulled a chair besides you, lounging on it as he waited for a healer to arrive. 

You remained unconscious, but it seems like your temperature increased even more. He was so lost in his own thoughts, that he didn’t register that Matsuki walked inside the room until he was addressing him. 

“Is she going to be alright ?” Bakugou didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth, then again, he didn’t have the heart to lie to him either. 

“I don’t know.” Somehow saying it out loud hurts even more. 

A knock on the door broke the gloominess. 

“Come in.” 

Hope walked in, in the shape of a short, old lady with medical equipment. 

Recovery Girl inspected you, from temperature to heartbeat. And when done, she sighed. 

“Everything boils down to it being a simple fever, but in that case, she wouldn’t be unconscious,” she explained ambiguously. She took one of your hands, and andr fingertips were icy cold. 

She hummed contemplatively. She brought out a healing crystal, squeezing it in one fist, while she held your hand in the other. The idea was to transfer the healing energy from the crystal to you, only possible through a healing mage. 

However, when nothing seemed to happen, Recovery Girl opened her fist. She found a shattered crystal. 

“Oh my…” 

Bakugou growled, frustration willing up and tipping over. “The fuck!” 

Recovery Girl glared at him. Such language shouldn’t be used in front of a child. 

“Typical healing methods aren’t going to work.” 

Silence reigned over this time, willing the old lady to continue on, both his and his son’s hearts on the edge. 

“I believe she’d been cursed.” 

Bakugou scrunched up his eyebrows at the absurd explanation. Who’d curse you of all people ? He only just discovered your existence!

Yet for some reason, he felt like he’d rather die than let you, the one who could love him for all his flaws, the one who always brought a smile on his son’s face, suffer. 

“How?” The deity up there must be very cruel, to take you away when he just met you. 

“I don’t know, son. There’s a very strong, malevolent energy, enough to break a healing crystal. It’s going to make her body reject anything that could heal it,” she explained solemnly. 

“If you want this young lady healthy and well, we need to take different measures to heal her. Also, do you know who cursed, or where she could have incurred it? That will be very helpful.” 

Bakugou looked at Matsuki, knowing that he himself is clueless. 

“This is the first time I met her. Matsuki seems to have met her a while ago in her tiny ass cottage outside the protective barrier.” She looked like she had some questions, but instead directed her attention to the little Bakugou and asked him what matters most right now. 

“Do you know anyone that might’ve done this? Have you seen her interact with anyone that could possibly be capable of it?” She knew asking a child would likely be more fruitless then not, but she still wished to help you in any way she could. 

Matsuki shook his head. 

“I’ve never even seen her talk with anyone.” This only served to increase Bakugou’s suspensions. Could it be something to do with your affiliation with Matsuki ? And if that was the case, then there’s so many other things he must take into account too, because that would mean that there’s a traitor in their midst, or at least someone that had been tracking Matsuki for… what fucking ever reason. 

He sighed, feeling an ache beginning to form in his head. He touched your arm, wanting to reassure himself that you are alive. 

A gasp rang out from the occupants of the room when you opened your eyes, making them seem glowy when the sunlight reflected off them, giving you an ethereal, angelic radiance. 

The air left his lungs, while blood rushed to his cheeks, making them seem ripe as apples. 

“How is this possible?” 

This shocked him awake, out of his reverie and into reality. 

Recovery Girl glanced at the arm Bakugo was touching, humming to herself with a knowing glint in her old, wise eyes. 

“Well, my king, did you forget? The oldest, most powerful magic that dragons have been gifted::soulmates.” 

Bakugo blushed again, kissing his teeth and glaring at Recovery Girl. 

“What are you babbling on about, old hag?” 

“I believe you know.” 

He glared at the ground, childishly not answering. 

“Um...what’s going on?” A small, feminine voice asked. Bakugou turned to you, melting at the majestic sound of your voice. 

“That’s a good question.” That brat. 

Bakugou tried to stay in contact with you, afraid of making the burst of magic triggered by your bond slipping away. 

“Uh, you lost unconsciousness and Matsuki asked me to help you. Oh, and apparently you were cursed.” Bakugou bluntly spits the facts at you, not thinking ahead for your reaction. 

“A CURSE?” you shouted, coughing after due to hoarseness. The old hag shot Bakugou another glare, before sweetening up and looking at you. 

“We’ll explain after you rest a bit and freshen up, you’d been through quite a bit.” she said, deliberately not divulging any information yet. She didn’t need to be there for the grand explanation. She’d rather not be, actually. 

She stood on her weary legs, leaving the room unnoticed as you admired your surroundings, and as Bakugou admired you. Matsuki’s stare lacked the burn of fascination as he stared at his father grumpily. 

“The fuck you looking at her so weird for?” Matsuki seethed. You gasped and turned to him. 

“Matsuki!” He bristled in frustration, having forgotten how much you hated it when he cursed. 

“Sorry. He was though!” 

Bakugou, throughout the whole thing, glared at his son with blushing cheeks. He wanted to spank some respect into him so bad right now. 

You turned to Bakugo, gaze weighty in the seriousness it’s burdened with. 

“Thanks for helping me, I appreciate it. You’re Matsuki’s father, right? The resemblance is hard to miss. Well, I have a lot of questions, but firstly, what do you mean by cursed?” 

You felt as if a rock was pressed against your chest, gloom overtaking your features as you awaited his answer. Still hopeful that it was a joke, but the ancient dark magic was not to be joked with. 

“Someone cursed you. It’s the cause for your sickness, and it’s slowly sapping the life out of you. You’re only awake because uh...the magic of our bond is more powerful.” Bakugou rushed the last part, his heart beating, squeezing painfully when silence hung in the air after his not so confession. 

You purse your lips, the movement catching Bakugo’s attention, drawing him to your lips. Supple, kissable lips. 

“Our bond?” 

Bakugo nodded. 

“You’re my soulmate, it’s why—probably why Matsuki was so drawn to you.” Bakugo was looking forward to explaining more, before his door was busted open (a common occurrence these days it seems) by a panting soldier, who summoned the strength to salute stiffly. 

“Your majesty, we have received a letter from Celeane Siloh.” 

Well, what a great introduction to the family. 

...............

Kofi

Don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this !

[fandom-puff]

Guard

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x reader

Requested by: anon ‘Can I get literally anything with Sandor Clegane? Maybe reader is a highborn child of a lord, and the Hound is hired as their bodyguard. And reader is very flustered around Sandor and can’t help but try to seduce them nervously? And Sandor is secretly digging it but tries to remain stoic and scary. Did that make any sense? I hope that was coherent’

Note: I... got a bit carried away here lol, sorry it took a while to write. also the reader in this is Robert Baratheon’s eldest daughter :)

Warnings: drunk shenanigans, references to sex

Gif creds to owner

“Oh father, honestly. What need have I for a guard?” You sighed, setting your book aside as Robert Baratheon sat across from you. “I can barely leave my chambers without a swarm of mother’s little birds to watch my every move,”

“What good are your ladies maids against would be assassins, Hm?” Robert said gently, brushing your dark hair away from your face. “All they can do is tell your mother you’ve had your throat slit,” you didn’t grimace at his bluntness.

“Surely Joffrey would be the prime target?” You insisted. “He’s heir to the throne seeing as he’s the eldest son. And he’s an ass as well,”

Robert laughed, knowing of your disdain for your younger brother. “I know, my girl, I know. Still, I want you protected, especially when we set off for the north. It took a while to convince your mother but... well, she can’t deny her own bannermen will be the best to serve the job,”

“Lannister bannermen?” You asked, taking your father’s arm as he began to walk you to dinner.

“Aye. Don’t worry, I won’t let the Mountain anywhere near you,” he said, patting your hand gently. “But his brother, Sandor, is to be your guard,”

***

The journey north was... arduous, to put it diplomatically. Your mother was overbearing, Joffrey grew bored, Myrcella was travel-sick from the bumpy road and Tommen was dearly missing Ser Pounce.

When the parade of servants and guards and carriages and luggage stopped for dinner before sun down, you sighed, happy to stretch your legs and get away from the claustrophobic Queen’s litter.

After dinner, you followed your father and uncles to their own carriage, insisting you couldn’t bare another moment of your siblings bickering and your mother trying to get you to sew. Your father allowed it and you smiled as he helped you into the carriage, sitting next to him and across from your uncles. Tyrion smiled at you, asking about the book you were reading. You soon found yourself relaxing, under no pressure from Cersei, being treated as an intellectual equal. You even drank some strong wine (under Robert’s supervision of course) and soon nodded off to sleep against your father’s shoulder the way you used to when you were a girl...

“YN, wake up,” you jolted awake, blinking away your sleepiness.

“Are we at Winterfell?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes. Robert smiled fondly.

“Almost, my dear. Your mother is going spare, says you’re to go to her litter right this instant and put your best gown on,” he grinned, nudging you as you rolled your eyes. “Clegane will escort you, he’s outside,” you sighed and nodded, slipping out of the carriage, almost colliding head on with the Hound.

“Princess,” he said, looking down at you and bowing slightly. “I’m to take to you your mother,”

You smiled sweetly up and him, nodding. “Thank you, Ser Clegane,”

“I’m no Ser,” he said firmly.

“Then what should I call you?” You asked, looking up at him expectantly.

“Well... your brother used to just call me Hound, or Dog, princess,” he said, frowning.

You stared up at him, locking eyes with him, taking in his scarred face and stoic expression. “I am not an ignorant arse like my brother. I’m sure your first name shall suffice, Sandor,” you said firmly and he nodded, helping you navigate the uneven ground to your mother’s carriage

***

Your stay at Winterfell was enjoyable, yet suffocating at times. You grew used to the cold rather quickly, donning furs the way the Starks did. You got on well with Sansa, let Arya show you how fast she could run, held Rickon on your hip when he raised his arms up, let Bran quiz you on the different creatures Old Nan had told him about, spoke politics with Robb. You even beckoned the bastard, Jon Snow over after Robb told you they were as close as real brothers. You admired how warm Lady Stark was with her children, and how Lord Stark was firm but fair with them, disciplining them when need be.

Of course, wherever you went, you had a shadow. Sandor Clegane followed your every move, standing just close enough so he could see and hear you, but far away enough to not stifle you. It was odd at first, but you soon got used to it, smiling softly when you found him waiting outside of your allocated chamber each morning. You couldn’t help but be curious about him. Many recoiled in fright when they saw his disfigured face, but you couldn’t care less. It intrigued you. He was... handsome. In a rugged, scary, gigantic way. At night you couldn’t help but let your mind wander... thinking about his strong arms and great height and low, rumbling voice... you often woke in a sweat, despite the frigid wind of the North, your entire body alight with desire.

It was wrong, you knew it was. He was your guard. Father would have his head if anything untoward happened, and your mother would surely condemn you to a life as a Septa. But still... there was something about his powerful presence that stoked the fire within you.

***

There was a firm thud at your door. “Princess, I’m here to take you to the feast,” Sandor’s gruff voice sounded.

“A moment, I’m just... is there a ladies’ maid nearby?” You called

“No, Princess. They are down at the feast with your mother and sister... should I fetch one? Or perhaps the Septa or the Maester, if it’s women’s troubles that are ailing you?”

You rolled your eyes and opened the door. “There’s no need for that, Sandor,” you said firmly. “I’m simply having difficulty trying to do up the clasp on my necklace. Would you...?” You opened your door a little wider, inviting him inside. Sandor hesitated for a moment before following you, his armour rattling with every step. He admired your figure as you walked; you had decided to wear the colours of your house for the Feast. A black gown, embroidered with twisting golden antlers. You stood in front of the mirror, holding out the ends of your pendant. Sandor’s hands brushed against yours as he took the ends, and you couldn’t help but shiver, goosebumps spreading over the swell of your breasts as you swept your hair aside. Sandor gulped, clasping the fiddly chain against the column of your neck, his knuckles caressing gently.

“There,” he said, clearing his throat as he felt your heated skin. “Come on... before your mother castrates me for making you late,”

You smiled gently, walking slightly ahead of him toward the noisy Hall. As you approached the head table, Ned and Catelyn stood, but you quickly gestured for them to sit. “Please, sit. This is your home,” you said gently, allowing Sandor to pull a chair out for you next to your mother.

“Thank you Clegane,” she said coldly, eyes narrowed. “You may leave us now,”

You turned to him and smiled shyly. “Stay,” you said softly.

“YN,” your mother said warningly.

“Sandor, go and enjoy the feast. Have some food and some wine, I’m sure Uncle Jaime and Uncle Tyrion can spare you some. Go. Make Merry,” you said gently and he nodded, bowing slightly.

“Of course, Princess, your majesty,” he said, before stalking away.

You ignored your mother’s disapproving look and engaged in pleasant conversation with Lady Catelyn, mainly about when you were to be wed, but your mother cut across.

“I believe Robert intended to betroth her to your eldest son, but we must consider Joffrey’s future first. He is after all to be king and needs to have heirs,”

“Of course,” Catelyn smiled. “I’m sure a suitor will come shortly,”

You nodded, although your attention was no longer on the conversation; your eyes had drifted to Sandor. For once he was smiling, looking at ease as your uncles poured him more wine, your father laughing jovially with a woman on his lap. “I’m going to see Uncle Jaime,” you said to your mother, who sighed but let you go.

“Ah, YN,” Tyrion smiled as jaime poured you a goblet of wine. “I see you’ve managed to escape your mother’s side,”

“Don’t,” you said, taking the wine and drinking it quickly, sitting yourself next to Sandor. Robert sent the woman on his lap go, frowning at you.

“Careful now, YN, that wine’s stronger than you’re used to,” he warned, but you reached over to clink your goblet with his. Sandor gulped, seeing the curve of your back as you swayed slightly.

“Oh, nonsense, father. I am your daughter after all... and my uncle is the drunkest man in the seven kingdoms. It’d be rather shameful if I couldn’t manage a cup of wine,” you smiled, sitting back down and knocking back another cup as the men roared with laughter.

Your father was right. A few cups of the strong wine later, you were rather giddy, insisting Jaime dance with you. He humoured you, your father and Tyrion laughing and cheering you on while Sandor smiled bemusedly. “Come now, YN... that’s enough for tonight,” Jaime said, helping you stagger back. “She’s drunk,” he grinned as you giggled, sitting yourself back down. Your fathered grinned, allowing you one more cup before smirking.

“Gods above, Cersei will have my head for getting you drunk...” Robert grinned, although he didn’t really look too worried. “Clegane, take her to her rooms and guard the door. Send for the maester if she’s unwell,” Sandor nodded and bowed, watching as you hugged your father goodnight, before taking your arm and guiding you out of the crowded hall.

As you walked through the courtyard of Winterfell, you shivered in the cold, leaning into Sandor a little more, trying to keep up with his wide strides. He helped you up the stairs to your room, rolling his eyes fondly as you giggled when you stumbled. “Come on, Princess, need to get you to bed in one piece,”

“I’d like you to get me in bed, Sandor,” you grinned, nudging him, fuelled by liquid confidence. He said nothing, opening your bedroom door, helping you inside before turning around. “What’re you doing?” You asked indignantly.

“Turning my back so you can get yourself dressed for bed,” he said lowly, gritting his teeth.

“I can’t undo the laces at the back... my ladies’ maid is still at the feast. Help?” You asked, already clumsily undoing your braids. Sandor sighed softly, cursing under his breath as he turned around. You had your back to him, holding your hair out of the way so he could unlace your gown. When you felt his strong hands against your back, caressing with the gentlest touch, you let out a little sigh, leaning back into his touch. Your gown pooled onto the floor, leaving you in your corset and chemise. His breath hitched, unlacing your corset. You smiled, turning around and he quickly averted his eyes- he could see your nipples through the fabric, thanks to the cold.

“C’mon, princess,” he said, clearing his throat, thankful his armour covered his cock; his trousers were feeling uncomfortably tight. “Into bed with you,” you nodded obediently, letting him help you up into the high bed. He pulled the blanket over you, and as he was straightening, you reached up to kiss him. He froze for a moment, before kissing you back gently, stroking your hair. His whole hand almost covered your head as he cupped the back of it gently. Slowly, he pulled away, much to your dismay. “Sleep, princess,” he said softly, pushing you down. You reached up, pouting.

“Stay?” You slurred, eyes already drooping as the alcohol caught up to you.

“I’ll be standing just outside the door, YN,” he said, blowing out the candles. “Can’t keep you safe if I’m in here, can I?”

***

Tags: @lotsoffandomrecs @zodiyack @rabeccablake @simonsbluee @wonderwoman292 @little-bit-of-randomness @doozywoozy

[spacexcowgirl]

All About The Chase - F.W.

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N will do anything for her best friend—and crush—Fred Weasley. Even if that means fake dating him so he can catch the eye of her cousin.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Light swearing, one allusion to sex (blink and you’ll miss it), brief mention of intoxication (again, blink and you’ll miss it), super mean awful cousin, food, a little angsty with a happy ending, 

A/N: For the anon who asked for Fred fake dating his friend to make her relative jealous! I decided to make her the twins age, and I may have went a little overboard with the cousin rivalry, but oh well. Thank you for feeding into my love of cliches! Also, I played around with using third person rather than second, it just felt right for this one. Pictures are from Pinterest.

message to be added to tags :)

When Y/N was six years old, her parents—well, Santa—got her the most amazing art set. She had always liked to draw, and now she had an array of more colors than she could even really name. When her family was set to head to her Aunt’s house for Christmas dinner, she packed up all of her new markers, a stack of fresh paper, and a few of her drawings she was most proud of to show off.

The night had started wonderfully. She got a few more gifts from her grandparents, a beautiful doll from her aunt and uncle, and enough sweets and candy to last her months. When it was time to finally eat, Y/N left all of her new toys and her cherished art set in her relatives’ living room. Y/N doesn’t remember much about the dinner—why should she? It was a decade prior—but what she does remember vividly is the excitement that bubbled up in her tiny body when her mother suggested she go grab some of her artwork to show off.

Y/N slid out of her chair and raced into the living room. Only when she got there did she find all of her finished art completely destroyed, covered in scribbles from her new markers. Her brows had furrowed and her eyes welled with tears, and that’s when she heard it. The sinister little cackle of her cousin, Annalise. Y/N turned on her heels and saw the girl, uncapped marker in hand, looking at her as if she was the most pitiful thing in the world.

Y/N returned to dinner empty handed, claiming she had forgotten the drawings at home—even though her parents were certain she hadn’t. Annalise returned with an innocent smile and a portrait of their Nan in hand—one Y/N was certain she just made with her markers—and all of the adults cooed and awed at the small girl’s talent.

A few years later, Y/N was set to star in their primary school’s theater production. Looking back, she now recognized that her landing that part had little to do with any real talents she had, and more to do with how adults always seemed to fawn over her. She was always revered as ‘just the cutest little thing!’ Which evidently preceded talent at the ripe age of eight.

Right before she was set to go on stage and deliver her three lines (that’s all a star can really handle so young, right?), she found her angel wings shredded and her halo headband bent in half. The teacher didn’t have any time to fix her costume, so in a fluster she threw out her part all together, and sent Y/N to stand with the rest of the year 3 ensemble. It didn’t take long for Y/N to catch Annalise’s eye amongst the other students, only she was smirking. Y/N had to force her eyes back out onto the crowd and desperately search for her parents to keep herself from bawling on the spot.

As if things couldn’t get any worse between the pair of cousins, when Y/N was ten, her and her parents were astonished to find a letter tucked into their usual mail, accepting her into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The letter gave an answer to the many strange things Y/N had been able to make happen with her emotions alone, and her chest swelled with pride to learn just how special she truly was. Not to mention, this was finally her opportunity to escape Annalise once and for all.

Until, it wasn’t. Y/N didn’t know that Annalise was a witch as well until the two families spotted each other on the platform, preparing to send both of their daughters off. Neither parents had revealed the truths of their daughters abilities to the other prior, because they knew it must be kept with the upmost secrecy. Y/N’s parents and Annalise’s parents were overjoyed to know their little girls wouldn’t be all alone, and they had someone to share their apprehensions with. Y/N and Annalise were far less enthused by the news.

A little over five years later, Y/N sat in the Gryffindor Common room, rifling through beginning of the year work that had already been assigned. In the half-decade since she’d started at Hogwarts, she had managed to avoid Annalise as best she could. It turned out to be somewhat easy, seeing as they were sorted into different house. Still, whenever Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were forced into classes together, Y/N couldn’t help but feel dread pooling in her stomach. Annalise was always sure to make those classes a living hell for her.

Y/N’s attention was pulled from her work from the sound of a small group of people bounding into the common room. She glanced back over the couch, only to see her best friends—Fred and George—laughing and pushing each other around.

“She totally wants me!” Fred argued, a cocky grin alit on his face.

“Oh, please, she hates your guts, mate.” George teased back.

Fred looked as if he were about to respond, until his eyes met Y/N’s across the room. A more genuine smile found its way onto his face as he tugged his brother towards the couch, then plopped down next to her. George then took a seat in one of the chairs across from them. Y/N neatly gathered her work into a pile, knowing for certain there was no way she would make any progress with them around.

“Y/N, will you please tell my dear brother that your cousin is absolutely mad for me, she just has a different way of showing it?” Fred threw his arm lazily around the back of the couch, right behind her, as he looked at her expectantly.

Y/N couldn’t help the sour mood that the conversation immediately put her in. There was two reasons for this; one, the most obvious, any topic that involved Annalise always brought her down. She couldn’t help it, and she tried not to hate the girl, but everything about her was draining. The second reason was that Y/N was absolutely head over heels for Fred. She had been ever since he pranked Graham Montague for making her cry in third year. The idea of Fred and Annalise together was truly the epitome of her worst nightmare.

“I don’t know, she might really just hate you.” Y/N shrugged, doing her best to keep her voice even and her face straight. Her words caused Fred to scowl and George to erupt into fits of laughter.

“Oh come on, not you too!” Fred whined as he threw his head back. 

“What do you even see in her anyways?” Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to the question, but she couldn’t help but ask it. 

“Well, she’s quite fit.” This answer earned a swift slap to the arm from Y/N, which only made Fred snicker. “And!” He continued, persistent to point out that looks weren’t all he cared about. “She’s feisty, and smart. And, she acts completely not interested in me.”

“So that’s why you like her?” Y/N snorted.

“Ah, dearest Y/N, one day you’ll learn that it’s all about the chase.” Fred began to twiddle some of her hair between his fingers.

“There’s plenty of girls who aren’t interested in you! You could ‘chase’ any of them.” Y/N reasoned, batting his hand away.

“You’ve got that right.” George snorted, causing his brother to shoot him a glare.

“Well, even if that were true, I’ve got my sights set on her.” Fred shrugged.

“Well, if you really want Annalise to go out with you, you should just date me.” Y/N teased as she sat forward, beginning to pluck through her papers once again. When no one laughed or responded, she quickly shot her eyes up. “I’m only kidding.”

“No, no that could work.” Fred sat up abruptly and pointed a finger towards her. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”

“I’m really not.” Y/N shook her head quickly. “That might breach the list of dumbest things I’ve ever said.”

“Yeah, right, don’t forget we’ve been around you drunk, Y/L/N. That doesn’t even make the top ten.” George grinned at her, but her nerves kept her from even smiling at his little joke.

Y/N was growing desperate now, because neither of the twins were brushing off her silly joke. Fred was looking at her as if she just handed him the key to solve all of his problems, and George was doing nothing to tame his brother. Y/N glanced expectantly between the two of them as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Come on, what better way to make her jealous than to see me dating her cousin?”

Y/N had mentioned on occasion the way that Annalise always had to ruin everything for her as a child, but never in full detail. Some part of her knew if she had just been transparent about how truly awful the girl had treated her, Fred would never give Annalise a second glance. But now, he thought they were nothing more than cousins with a small childhood rivalry, and for that he could justify going after her.

“Please, Y/N,” Fred got down on his knees in front of her, dawning his best puppy dog eyes, and put his hands in a pleading gesture. “Be my fake girlfriend for a month—two, tops.”

Y/N chewed harder on her bottom lip as she gazed at him, already feeling her reluctance slipping away. She could never say no to him, especially when he looked so adorable. Y/n breathed out a sigh and dropped her head to look at her folded hands in her lap. All thoughts of self preservation and protecting her heart went out the door; she knew she would say yes to him.

“Fine.” Her voice was quiet, so much so that it took Fred a second to make sure he had heard her properly. 

“Really? Just like that? I was about to start bribing you with sugar quills and a month of Herbology homework—”

“Well, if you’re offering—”

“Nope, too late. You agreed before I had to.” Fred grinned at the girl before swooping in and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Now, let’s set up some ground rules.”

Fred began to drone on about what they would and wouldn’t do. Things like holding hands in the corridors, sitting close at meals, kisses on the cheeks and forehead. Which pet names they would and wouldn’t use. Number one, though, was no kissing on the lips. 

Y/N only listened halfheartedly as Fred rambled on, offering a slight head nod ever now and then to show she was in agreement. As Y/N thought over just what she had gotten herself into, she realized the next few weeks were going to be awful.

-

It didn’t take long for rumors of Fred and Y/N’s budding romance to swirl. She often found herself walking hand in hand with him through the corridors, light whispers trailing behind them. Often times, people she had hardly ever spoken to would come up to her and gush about how they always just knew Fred and her would be perfect together. Y/N would always politely smile, then wonder if they could hear her heartbreaking as loudly as she could.

To make matters worse, Fred was the perfect ‘boyfriend.’ Just as she always assumed he would be. He’d carry her books in one arm, swing their intertwined hands with the other, and walk her to each of her classes. At night, he’d sit with her in the library while she poured over her notes for the day—even though she knew he wanted nothing more than to be out pranking with George and Lee. She adored all of the extra time they were getting to spend together, until she’d remember that it was only temporary, and if he were lucky, he’d be doing all of these things with Annalise in a month.

It wasn’t until about three weeks into their agreement that Annalise approached her. Fred had walked her to potions that day, like he always did. He was making her laugh loudly, not caring at all about the many eyes upon them.

“It’s a wonder your mum didn’t ship you and George off when you were toddlers,” Y/n snorted. “It sounds like you two were menaces.”

“Oh, we were.” Fred nodded, a small grin on his face. “But I reckon we were the cutest babies she had so far, so she kept us around.”

Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes before nudging him lightly with her shoulder. They had finally made it to the potions classroom, so it was time for them to part. Fred handed her back her books and dropped her hand, but didn’t walk away until he had placed a soft kiss to her temple.

“Meet you outside of here after to walk to lunch?” He confirmed, but there was no need. It was the routine they had fallen into.

“Mhm.” Y/N gazed up at him, unable to contain the giddy smile on her lips. With that, he turned and began walking down the hallway, but not before shooting her a wink over his shoulder.

Y/N watched his retreating figure, a lovesick grin plastered to her face. Just when she had pulled herself from her daydreams and was about to enter the classroom, she ran hard into a firmly planted body.

“So, you and Weasley are pretty serious then, huh?” Annalise stood with her hands on her hips, a look that read as both disgust and amusement riddled on her face.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Y/N quickly recovered, hugging her books closer to her chest. This year, she had more classes with Annalise than any year prior, seeing as they both received a significant amount of O.W.L.s.

“Hm.” Annalise’s eyes trailed down the hallway where Fred had once been, before letting them snap back to Y/N. “Don’t know how you managed that.”

Y/N felt her blood run cold, but couldn’t find the energy within her to talk any further. So, she simply brushed past Annalise and into the classroom, ignoring the scoff that left Annalise’s lips when she pushed her out of the way. Y/N found her usual seat in the back and trained her eyes ahead, careful to keep her expression calm. That was, until Annalise slid into the seat next to her.

“What are you doing?” Y/N gaped at her. It wasn’t like they had assigned seats, but Y/N had always sat next to Patricia Stimpson. The girl was constantly fussing and nervous, always afraid to make a wrong move, but she certainly wasn’t the worst person Y/N could be stuck with.

“Asked Stimpson to trade seats.” Annalise shrugged nonchalantly, before a wicked grin grew on her face. “Figured we could get some good, cousin, bonding time.”

Y/N wanted to groan, but then Snape was gliding into the room and silencing everyone. She was certain this would be the longest lecture of her life.

-

When the class ended, Y/N didn’t wait for Fred outside. Instead, she had pushed up from her seat and hurried through the corridors, skipping lunch entirely to go wallow in her dorm room. Annalise had made the lecture a living hell, whether it be from snide comments she’d whisper over or by purposefully ruining their potion, then blaming it on Y/N. Internally, she cursed Fred—although it wasn’t really his fault—for putting her in the position to be in Annalise’s line of fire once again.

Y/N ended up avoiding Fred the rest of the day, scurrying between classes before he could find her. When she was finally done for the day, she wanted nothing more than to hide out in her dorm and cry. That’s exactly what she had started doing, too, before her door creeped open.

Y/N held her breath, assuming it was either Angelina or Alicia coming back before dinner. But, when her mattress dipped slightly from the weight of someone sitting down, she quickly spun around, coming face to face with Fred.

“Darling,” He cooed. It was a nickname he had taken to calling her ever since they started ‘dating,’ although no one was around now, and he was still using it. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

“How’d you get in here?” Y/N croaked, avoiding his question entirely.

“Figured out how to get past the charm ages ago.” Fred rested a gentle hand on her knee. “Then, Ang gave me her key. Said she saw you run up her. So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? And why’ve you been avoiding me all day?”

At that, Y/N lost it once again. Tears began streaming down her face freely, and she quickly sat up and accepted Fred’s opened arms. He raked his fingers through her messy hair and let her cry on his shoulder, gently soothing her to a place where she’d be able to speak.

“It’s just…” It was on the tip of her tongue. Y/N wanted desperately to tell him the truth about how awful Annalise truly was. But, just like when she was younger and never ratted Annalise out, she just couldn’t now. She didn’t know why it was, but it always felt like if she spoke the words out loud, then Annalise had won. “I’ve just had an awful day.”

“Snape will do that to you.” Fred tutted, clearly assuming her change in behavior post-potions was brought on by the professor. “I’m sorry, love.”

Y/N sniffled a few more times into his shoulder, wishing desperately that he was holding her in a way that wasn’t platonic. She craved nothing more than for him to want her like she’d always wanted him. But that seemed to be just a fantasy. The muggle fairytales she had been told growing up weren’t real, and the wicked witch was winning.

“Why don’t we go for a walk, get some fresh air?” Fred pulled back to look over her face, concern filled in his eyes. 

“But, you’re missing dinner…” 

“Eh, the house elves love me. I’ll just sneak down to the kitchens and grab something later.” Fred shrugged, a small smile now growing on his face. “You and me, we can make a whole night of it. I’ll sneak some snacks up and we can watch one of those old muggle movies you love so much.”

While Y/N was far from being completely okay, the tenderness he was exhibiting towards her made her heart swell. She knew he had plans with George and Lee that night, some big prank on a few Slytherins, but here he was, throwing it all away for her. He gently reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing a few stray tears away with his thumb. Y/N avoided his eyes, afraid that they would communicate all of the non-platonic love she felt for him, then nodded.

“Perfect.” Fred grinned before jumping up and extended his hand out to her. “Well, let’s go.”

Fred guided her the whole way out of the castle, keeping her close as they walked through the grounds. The autumn air was cool, and at the very second that Y/N shivered, Fred was wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. 

They walked around and talked for a little over an hour, giddy smiles on their faces all the while. Fred made her laugh so hard she abandoned all thoughts of Annalise, her mind completely filled with the tall red head beside her. He just had this way about him that could make anything that was possibly wrong seem miniscule. He reminded her of everything good in the world.

Once the sun was fully down and the temperature had dropped significantly, the two could no longer justify being outside in the cold. Fred made a show of wrapping her hands in his own, rubbing them together to bring her some warmth, before guiding her back to the castle.

They parted ways shortly, just so Fred could sneak into the kitchens and Y/N could get the movie set up in the common room. She laid out a few blankets and pillows then pushed the couch back a bit, thankful that it was a Wednesday night and most students seemed to have already gone to bed. When Fred returned, he handed Y/N a plate of food then sat down cross-legged beside her, balancing his own plate in his lap.

Y/N started the movie and dug into her food, giggling lightly at Fred’s ravenous way of eating. He had certainly been hungry earlier, but she needed him, so evidently he pushed his hunger aside. When their plates were finished, they stacked them neatly on the table behind them, before completely turning their attention to the movie.

“Okay, wait, who’s the green girl again?” Fred questioned as he pointed towards the screen, brows furrowed.

“If you would pay attention, you would know.” Y/N giggled. “She’s the Wicked Witch of The West.”

“She’s supposed to be a witch?” Fred crinkled up his nose, confusion clear on his face. “I don’t know any green witches.”

“It’s a muggle movie, Fred.” Y/N lightly rolled her eyes.

“And who’s she?”

“Glinda, the good witch.”

“Okay, I definitely know witches don’t dress like that.” Fred teased, eyeing the woman on the screen’s frilly pink dress

“Maybe I should start.” Y/N giggled, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Think I could pull it off?”

“Darling, you’d look beautiful in anything.” Fred winked at her, causing her face to heat up. Some part of her knew it was nothing more than harmless joking, but she couldn’t help the way he lit something alive within her. 

“Ya think?” Y/N scooted a bit closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder so he couldn’t see her giddy smile.

“I know.” His voice was soft, and the two of them remained quiet for the next few scenes of the movie.

At some point, the two of them had shifted to lay down in order to get more comfortable on the floor. Fred was laying on his back with one hand behind his head, the other resting idly in between them. Y/N was sprawled out on her stomach, her face down by his feet. Every little bit her eyes would light up and she’d glance back to tell him that her favorite part was coming up, only for him to realize that every part seemed to be her favorite part. Still, he never pointed that out, but instead just smiled fondly at her and nodded.

“Ugh.” Y/N grimaced, a slight shiver running down her spine. “Those monkeys always terrified me when I was little.”

“Oh yeah?” Fred sat up now, leaning closer to her. “You scared now?”

“Psh, no.” Y/N rolled her eyes and glanced back over at him, only to find him slowly inching towards her. She pointed a finger out warningly. “Fred, don’t.”

It was no use, Fred’s hands latched themselves to her sides and began tickling her feverishly. Y/N squealed and tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. In the process, she had flipped over onto her back and was now kicking her legs out, trying to get him to stop, but that only egged him on further.

“You sure you’re not scared, Y/L/N?” Fred teased. “I could comfort you, if you were.”

“Freddie! Stop!” Y/N breathed out, tears beginning to pool in her eyes from her laughter.

Y/N now had the front of his jumper balled in her fists, trying desperately to get him to stop. After another minute, he did, and her wriggling ceased. Still, he loomed over top of her while she gripped onto his jumper tightly. Both of them were silent as they stared into each other’s eyes, faces only inches apart. For half a second, Y/N swore she saw Fred’s eyes flicker down to her lips, but then she convinced herself she must have dreamed it.

The sounds of the movie seemed to draw them back to the present, and Y/N let go of Fred’s jumper, causing him to sit up. She followed suit, clearing her throat in hopes of easing the tension between them. Fred was never one to let any awkwardness linger, so he nudged her with his elbow before laying back down in the spot he had been before.

“Cuddle up, Y/N. I’ll keep you safe from the big scary winged monkeys.” He winked as he opened his arms for her.

Y/N rolled her eyes lightly, trying desperately to calm the nerves in her stomach, before obliging and cuddling into his side. She let her head rest on his chest, her hand placed just over his heart, as he tightened his arm around her. Y/N found that she couldn’t pay attention to the rest of the movie, what with Fred pulling a blanket up around them and gently stroking her hair. She was lulled to sleep by the action, finding that she wished every night, she could fall asleep in his arms.

The two were startled awake the next morning by a bout of loud laughter. As Y/N quickly sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she spotted George, fully dressed in his school uniform, gazing down at them with an amused grin. Fred groaned from where he still laid on the floor, pulling a pillow over his face to block out the light.

“And what’s this?” George cocked his head to the side. “You guys are really taking this ‘fake dating’ thing pretty seriously. Honestly, you’ve got me convinced.”

Fred shot up quickly at that, nervously looking around the common room to make sure no one heard. When he realized it was only the three of them, he let out a breath of relief.

“Come off it, will you? We just fell asleep after watching a movie.” Fred shot his brother a glare.

Y/N felt sick at the reminder that everything between them was fake. Every little moment she had foolishly convinced herself could mean something more was nothing but wishful thinking. Drawing in a deep sigh, Y/N forced herself up and gestured for Fred to move with a flick of her wand. Once he obliged, she flicked her wand again and gathered all of the blankets and pillows before pushing the couch back. Without another word, she stalked back up the steps to her dorm, and prepared herself for another long day.

-

When Y/N arrived to the potions classroom, her stomach dropped at the sight of Annalise once again in the seat next to her usual one. She gazed around the room, grumbling slightly when she realized she had no other choice but to sit next to the girl. 

“Wow, you look like hell.” Annalise sneered when she trudged over.

“Probably because I was up all night with Fred.” Y/N shot back, before truly registering her words. “Not… Not like that.”

Annalise snorted at the insinuation and rolled her eyes. It seemed she was about to say something, no doubt some snide comment, but was cut off by Snape walking into the room. Y/N straightened up and began to listen to the professor drone on, her stomach twisting in knots when she realized what that day’s lecture would entail. A cauldron sat at the front of the classroom, an alluring steam rising off of it. Y/N knew, it was Amortentia.

After giving a brief lecture on it, Snape used his wand to lift the cauldron in the air, slowly letting it stop by each desk for the students to gaze at. He appeared completely uninterested by the kids’ excitement from what they smelled. Finally, it arrived at Y/N and Annalise’s table.

Y/N leaned forward and took a breath in, her nose being filled with the scent of fireworks, chocolate, and the shampoo Fred used. She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, not needing the reminder that she felt so deeply for someone who didn’t return her affections.

Annalise leaned forward and breathed in a deep breath, a dreamy smile gracing her face. Her eyes flickered towards the front of the classroom, finding Snape deep in conversation with another Ravenclaw student. Quickly, she pulled an empty glass bottle from her bag and dipped it into the cauldron, filling it entirely.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N hissed, sitting up abruptly.

“I’m gonna use it as perfume. So everyone smells what they’re attracted to on me, and wants to be around me.” Annalise shrugged, placing a cork on the bottle and sliding it back into her bag. Y/N knew she could get in loads of trouble for carrying such a dangerous and potent potion, yet she didn’t speak up to turn her in. “Professor Snape, we’re all done back here!”

And with that, Snape was whisking the cauldron away and carrying on with his lecture. Y/N watched Annalise out of the corner of her eye, certain she was up to something from the glint in her eye. Still, like always, she stayed silent.

-

A week later, all thoughts of Annalise’s odd behavior had completely left Y/N’s mind. She was so caught up in falling for Fred even more each day, she could hardly focus on anything else. The fact that he hadn’t brought up Annalise once since their movie night didn’t go unnoticed to her, and she found herself chasing the familiar hope that maybe he was starting to fall for her too.

“I’ve gotta catch up with Georgie and Lee—they’re still mad I ditched them last week.” Fred informed her as he finished his dinner. “Catch you later?”

She nodded, a bright smile lighting up her face when he swooped down and kissed her cheek before hurrying off. Y/N was so in a daze that she didn’t even notice someone slide in the seat beside her, occupying the space Fred was once in.

“Ah, so you two are still together, are you?” Annalise spoke up, making her presence known. She wore a devilish grin as she feigned a casual act, picking at her nails.

“Obviously.” Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“What a shame, I just hate to be the one to tell you this.” She sighed.

“Tell me what?” Y/N’s brows furrowed as she turned to look at Annalise full on.

“Well, I’ve been wearing my perfume, you see.” She craned her neck and circled her hand, gesturing for Y/N to lean in and take a whiff. The smell was undeniable, and as much as she hated being in the presence of her cousin, it kept her reeled in. “Smell Freddie, do you?”

“Why do you care?” Y/N gritted her teeth, hating the way his nickname sounded coming from her mouth.

“Because, he doesn’t smell you.” Annalise shrugged. “In fact, what was it he told me he smelled? Right, fresh ink, my peach shampoo, and… Oh, I can’t remember. It was so hard to pay attention while he was snogging me in that broom closet.”

Y/N instantly dropped the utensils in her hand, ignoring the way they clattered to the ground. The sound drew a few eyes towards them, and Annalise simply smirked at her cousin. Y/N could feel tears welling behind her eyes, but she was also angry. At Fred, for not just telling her that he had finally gotten what he wanted. And at Annalise, for always being so dead set on ruining everything for her.

“What did I ever do to you?” Y/N heard her voice crack, and she felt just as pathetic as Annalise wanted her to feel. When she spoke again, her tone increased significantly. “Why must you always ruin everything for me?”

Some part of her knew she shouldn’t be freaking out, because this had always been the plan. She knew Annalise could never let anything be hers, so she should simply take it in stride and move on. But she couldn’t. She had been so sure that Fred and her were starting to build something real, that she’d finally be with the boy she’d crushed on for years, and now all of that hope was shattered.

“I’m just being a good cousin.” Annalise slapped a hand to her chest, feigning some sort of dignity that she certainly didn’t have. “Really, he was bound to cheat on you at some point. I just made it happen sooner rather than later. You should be thanking me.”

Y/N reached for her wand and gripped it tightly in her fist, ready to point it at her and fire off whatever hex came to mind. In an instant, fear was in Annalise’s eyes and she was cowering back. Professor McGonagall was now rushing forward, shouting her surname and ordering her to stop. In response, Y/N lowered her wand and wiped at her eyes, forcing none of her tears to fall.

“You know what, you’re not even worth it.”

And with that, she was marching out of the Great Hall, ignoring any calls of her name.

-

When Y/N made it back to the common room, she found George, Lee, and Fred gathered around a small table in the corner. A few other students were littered throughout the room, as well. Y/N almost just stormed right up to her dorm, intent on never speaking to Fred again, but she was sick of always letting people treat her like rubbish. So, right as she made it to the base of the steps, she turned on her heels and marched to their table, causing all of their eyes to fall on her.

“Hello, love—”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Fred. “Godric, I know I agreed to help the two of you get together, but cheating on me? Leaving me embarrassed in front of the whole school? What is wrong with you?”

Lee and George glanced at each other with wide eyes before signally towards their steps and quietly sneaking away. This left Fred in open-mouthed shock, gaping at Y/N in all of her fury.

“I don’t know what—”

“And don’t even tell me how it wasn’t really cheating, because we weren’t really together, I know. But the rest of the school doesn’t know that! Annalise doesn’t know that! And now you’ve fed directly into her only wish of making my life utterly horrible.” Y/N fumed, although her hands were shaking slightly. “So, congrats Fred. You finally got the girl. And Annalise got what she wanted, too. Looks like you two are perfect for each other.”

After saying her piece, she quickly turned around and began making her way back towards her steps. She ignored the many sets of bewildered eyes on her, too angry and hurt to even care. She was only stopped by the feeling of Fred gripping onto her wrist and spinning her back around to face him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Fred searched her eyes. “I didn’t cheat on you, fake or not.”

“But—” 

“Annalise yanked me into a broom closet earlier, asking me to smell her neck like a bloody lunatic. So, I did, because I’m always enticed by strange offers.” He quipped with a smile, but when Y/N shot him a pointed look, he became serious once again. “Not the time? Right, okay. So, I smelled her, and I asked if she cornered me in there just to tell me she nicked your perfume, and she got all huffy, so I left. I didn’t cheat on you. I didn’t even mention it because it was too weird to explain.”

“You…” The words got caught in Y/N’s throat, all of her anger leaving her body. “You smelled my perfume?”

“Yeah, and faintly my mum’s roast, but I didn’t question it.” Fred shrugged. “Why?”

Y/N slowly raised a hand up to her mouth, gazing between where his hand still held her wrist and his eyes. Fred had never been very good at potions, so she knew just saying Annalise was wearing ‘Amortentia’ would explain very little.

“She was wearing a love potion, Fred.” Y/N spoke up, much quieter than before. “You smell what you’re attracted to in it.”

In an instant, Fred’s face was a bright shade of red and he quickly dropped her wrist. His eyes dipped down as he avoided her gaze, and Y/N realized this was the first time she’d ever seen him nervous.

“I…” Fred struggled to find words. “I don’t—I mean, I do… But I didn’t want you to—”

“Ask me what I smell in mine.” Y/N urged, cutting off his rambling. Fred shot his head back up at that, looking at her quizzically. 

“What do you smell in yours?” There was a hopeful glint behind his eyes, though his words were soft.

“Fireworks, chocolate…” Y/N took a step closer to him. “And your shampoo.”

The second that Fred fully registered what her words meant, he was closing the distance between the two of them. Y/N let out a shocked giggle as he wrapped her up in his arms, pressing his lips fully to hers for the first time. Although she had seen fireworks before, and she had smelled them almost every time Fred and George were around, neither compared to what it was like to feel fireworks. Y/N’s arms wound around his neck as she pulled him closer to her, prepared to live in the moment forever if she could.

When they pulled apart, there was nothing left either of them had to say. Fred could apologize for putting her through hell for the past few weeks, and Y/N could apologize for being so harsh, but that didn’t matter to either of them at the moment. All that mattered, was they both finally realized what had always been right in front of them.

-

Very early on in the start of Y/N and Fred’s real relationship, she finally opened up to him about just how awful Annalise really was. His jaw clenched at everything she told him, and he quickly expressed that he never would’ve wanted to be with her had he known. Y/N assured him she didn’t care, because this time, Annalise truly lost.

Although Y/N had been quick to brush off her feud with her cousin, telling Fred it was best to just leave it alone, she couldn’t say she was surprised when she walked into the Great Hall one morning, finding Annalise cowering at her table with neon green hair. It was the exact shade she had used when they were six to ruin Y/N’s drawing. While Fred and George vehemently denied any involvement in the prank, Y/N simply placed a short kiss to Fred’s lips, and quietly thanked him.

TAGS: @theweasleysredhair @letsgotothehop​ @wand3ringr0s3 @sarcasticallywitty15​

[goggles-mcgee]

i’m really loving the Wish me Away au idea! Would you be up to writing about what the batfam does after seeing mari’s reaction to emilie and adrien?

Like an actually little drabble? Yeah sure! It'll be based off the headcanons from this post -> 👶

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Bruce couldn't remember having so much fun, he always loved to brag about his kids and show them off at work, but it was a little hard when it was 'Bring Your Kid To Work Day' and most of your kids worked with you. That's why he was so happy bringing little Marietta with him to Wayne Enterprises, he also brought Damian but Damian had wandered off to see what Dick did since, and he quotes, "I know everything about you father. If I am to be your successor it is only natural I familiarize myself with your work. I believe it would be beneficial for me to oversee Grayson's work ethic."

Honestly, Damian could have just said he wanted to see what Dick did but that was just part of Damian's charm. Before he had left, Damian had let Marietta grab his finger and give it a little shake which delighted her, if Bruce was not mistaken, Damian had even smiled before he said bye to the both of them. The boy had really grown to love Mari and Bruce could not be more proud of his son. Though, he had to admit, all of his children were absolutely enamored with the baby, not to say he wasn't, but Lord have mercy on anyone who dared mess with his baby girl. She would have an army behind her of overprotective brothers and sisters, and father and mother, and grandfather, and cow...and turkey...and dogs...and cats...and dragon bat....and semi-god things that called themselves kwamis...and two very very powerful almost godlike godparents (Diana and Clark.) Now Bruce didn't like to think about it but he did also have to add Mari's....friends to that list... i.e. some of his rogues, which yes was fucking bizarre beyond all reason, but some had even cut back on crime because of their friendship with his little mini-hero so that was a plus. Right?

Well that was a thought for another day, now he got to take his little girl around and take her into meetings, which was certainly going to be interesting, but Marietta always seemed interested in watching him work so he wasn't too worried. He packed her plenty of snacks along with her lunch that Alfred made, he made sure to pack her favorite toys and a variety of coloring books and markers and crayons. And of course he remembered to pack cookies for Tikki who was riding in the hood of Marietta's dress. Plus he made sure to pack a little first aid kid just in case, also another sweater for Marietta in case she got cold.

He liked to be prepared. Sue him.

First meeting of the day was with a Ms. Graham de Vanily. If his memory served right this was Emilie and not Amelie who he had spoken with in the past. Not for the first time he had to wonder what possessed their parents to name the identical twin sisters Emilie and Amelie, but apparently she had brought along her son as well so that made this meeting a little less awkward. He adjusted his hold on Marietta before he continued on his walk to his office where he would be meeting Ms. Emilie, he had hoped to show his daughter around more when they had arrived but he had actually forgotten about this particular meeting and so hadn't rescheduled it to a time when he would hand over Marietta to one of her brother's since they deemed it "unfair" that only he got to show her his work.

Honestly his boys. They were wonderful but boy did they get jealous of one another if Marietta gave one more attention than the other. He fondly remembered one family game night where all the boys were asking who Mari's favorite brother is and she had just been laughing at all the attention not really understanding and it was the first time Bruce had witnessed Damian giving someone a smile and opening his arms for a hug. Of course he had done it behind all his siblings backs and only Alfred and Bruce himself had seen it. It was a sight to see everyone's face when Mari giggled out a, "Dami!", and ran over to him. When everyone turned around he was back to his stoic face but he was hugging Marietta and she was snuggling herself against him but as he looked at everyone he gave them a small smirk. There was an uproar, a demand for a retest, but Damian wouldn’t have it and it had been one of the most chaotic nights in the Manor. Selina had been very entertained especially when Marietta somehow made her way out of the gaggle of children and waddled over to her and had climbed in her lap very clumsily before plopping herself down and making herself comfortable, almost like a cat Bruce had thought, before smiling up at Selina. Selina had just turned to Bruce and said in a complete monotone voice, “I would die for this child.” 

Him and Selina hadn't tied the knot yet so to say, nor had he proposed. They were trying their hand at dating again but he couldn't help the way his heart skipped and his mind conjured up images of tuxedos, lace, friends and family, cakes and kisses, and rings and vows exchanged, when his baby girl, his little Marietta looked up at Selina and called her Maman. Bruce wondered if she ever shared his thoughts, he almost convinced himself she did whenever he saw her melt and practically purr when Mari, or as Selina liked to call her, Kitten, would call her Maman. He could see the love in the older woman's eyes and he had no doubt in his heart that this time, they would work out, this time they would get their 'happily ever after' or whatever came close to it.

He was ripped from his thought when he heard his baby girl giggle at something Lucius said.

"Morning Lucius."

"And good morning to you Mr. Wayne. I see you brought the little one."

"Yes. I promised I would bring her but I must admit, the meeting with Ms. Graham de Vanily slipped my mind." Bruce sighed out.

"I guessed as much. Well if you want, I can watch the Little Wayne while you have your meeting." Lucius offered, of course Bruce trusted him to watch Marietta seeing as the older man also practically adopted Mari at first sight. He was basically another grandfather to her.

"Gampa Fox!" Marietta began before dissolving into her baby babble. She was getting very good at speaking. Honestly she was very smart for a two year old.

"That's okay Lucius, I want to bring her in. Besides if her brothers spot her with you they wouldn't hesitate to snatch her up before their scheduled times. If Ms. Graham de Vanily has a problem with it I will insist on a reschedule. It's not everyday I get some one on one time with Marietta." Bruce admitted.

"You know one day someone is going to say no to you despite your good looks, money and reputation. Fine. Head on in, our guest is already here, which by the way, I don't think she will mind Mari seeing as she brought her own son to this meeting." Lucius sighed but he gave Mari a little wave and pointed Bruce to one of the smaller meeting rooms they had in Wayne Enterprises.

"Aww Lucius you think I'm good looking?"

"Go."

"Yes sir." Bruce chuckled out with a brief wave before he made his way over to the meeting room Lucius had pointed to and gently rapped his knuckled on the outside door despite the room being visible from outside because of the large windows. He heard a feminine voice call out from inside so he entered,

“Remember your manners Marietta and if you need anything don’t be shy.” Bruce told his daughter softly as they walked in, he chuckled when she nodded enthusiastically. As soon as he caught sight of the blonde woman he put on his best business smile. “Ah, Ms. Graham de Vanily, so sorry to keep you waiting. I must admit that this meeting slipped my mind.”

“No worries Mr. Wayne, I don’t believe this will be long. I see you brought your daughter. I brought my son! Adrien say hi.” Ms. Graham de Vanily light-heartedly scolded her son and tapped his shoulder. When Bruce took his seat and placed Marietta on his lap he finally got a good look at them both. Both mother and son were blond, her son, Adrien was a teenager, from the looks of it he was 16 maybe even 17. When his mother tapped him on the shoulder he sat up straighter than when he was slouching so obviously he didn’t want to come. So why bring him then? 

“Hello Mr. Wayne, it’s an honor to meet you.” Adrien greeted him with a model smile, he had seen enough to spot them from the real deal.

“Likewise. Marietta, can you say ‘hello’ to our guests?” Bruce asked gently down to his daughter who was being uncharacteristically quiet. Usually she would already saying ‘hi’ and waving, maybe even trying to get a high five or hand shake. Though now she was hiding her face in his chest and hugging her backpack to her, she made a small noise like a whimper and Bruce was absolutely dumbfounded. His daughter had never acted like this before, not even with Joker for crying out loud yet here she was trembling and trying to hide herself in his arms. He didn’t know what was going on but his daughter was scared so he scooped her up and held her closer to him but she still tried to pull herself closer. Finally Bruce caught sight of Tikki inside Marietta’s open backpack and saw her antennae-like things pulled back and her eyes narrowed as the kwami glared at Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son, if he wasn’t mistaken she was even glowing a faint red especially as she stared at Adrien. Bruce didn’t understand what was causing these reactions but he did know one thing, he wasn’t going to make Marietta sit there.

“I apologize. She’s not normally like this, I think it would be best if I take her to one of her brothers if you don’t mind.” 

“Oh...no worries at all. I’m sorry if we scared her somehow.” The woman actually sounded genuine but Bruce wasn’t going to risk anything, especially with how her son actually looked at his daughter for the first time that they walked in there.

“I’m sure that’s not the case, but it will probably be best to take her to one of her brothers that way we can get through this meeting. I will be fast.” With that he was out the room and speedwalking down the hall over to Lucius’s office. “I don’t have time to explain but Marietta was acting strange around Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son and Tikki as well. Can you take her to one of her brothers please? Just inform me who and I will go pick her up after the meeting.”

Lucius on his part did his best not to ask questions knowing Bruce didn’t have the time but he did raise a brow that told Bruce he would be answering those unasked questions later. “Of course. I’ll go see what Dick and Damian are up to.”

“Thank you Lucius.” Bruce said sincerely before he made his way back to his meeting. He had questions too and they were all for Tikki, but there would be time for that later, now it was time for business.

__________________________________________

The meeting passed and all Bruce could think about was getting to Marietta. He checked his texts from Lucius that informed him that he did indeed leave Mari with Dick and Damian so he made his way over to the central security room knowing that’s where Dick would most likely be. When he got there he was relieved to see his baby girl laughing and playing with Dick while Damian sat on a chair watching, as he walked in the two boys stood up swiftly with Dick scooping up Marietta and angling her away from the door but when they saw it was him they relaxed. “Father, Lucius told us nothing, what happened?” Damian demanded.

“I’m not sure myself. Marietta started acting scared when we got in the meeting room with Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son Adrien.” Bruce answered.

“NO!” They all stared at Marietta in shock when she screamed and tried to hide herself in Dick’s chest, then they all stared at each other with wide eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Etta what’s wrong?” Dick asked softly.

“No Adrien! No!” Marietta cried out. 

The air grew cold. Bruce could hear his son’s gasp and he wouldn’t be surprised if he did as well. “ طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish), you’re safe. This Adrien won’t harm you I promise.” Damian cooed to Marietta.

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar).” Mari cried out wetly as she reached her hands out for him and he of course took her out of Dick’s arms and held her. 

“Tikki. Explain...please.” Bruce pleaded.

Tikki flew out of Mari’s backpack and sadly looked over at the girl before flying over to her and kissing the top of her head before flying and landing on Dick’s desk. “It’s...They are from her old life. Ad- He was her former partner...the one who wished her away. That woman shouldn’t be alive.” 

“He was the one to betray her?” Damian asked, his voice full of ice and steel. “Father I will be needing my swords. All of them.”

“Damian. No.”

“What do you mean no?” His son asked indignantly.

“Yeah what do you mean no?” Tikki asked with a tilt of her head, Bruce glared at her, she knew what she was doing.

“Tikki what do you mean that woman shouldn’t be alive?” Dick asked.

“Simply that. She was a corpse. No soul. Haw-Gab- The villain Mari had to face before, she was his wife. He wished for her life.” Tikki explained as though it made total sense to all of them.

“Yeaaaaah, you’re going to need to expand on that.” Dick said which made Tikki frown in confusion.

“While I do agree with that, maybe we should wait until we are at home to continue this conversation. You boys know how Tim and Jason will be if they aren’t informed about what happened. You boys tell them and I’ll take Marietta. We will continue on with our day, but if you see either of them lingering here alert me. I don’t want Marietta to have to interact with them at all if we can help it.” Bruce said as he gently took Marietta from Damian who looked like he wanted to do anything but give his little sister to his father.

“If I see them I have a right to defend Marietta.” Damian stated. “You can’t stop me.”

“Damian.”

“Don’t worry Bruce, at least he doesn’t have a sword on him.” Dick chuckled.

“Who said I didn’t? Was it Todd?” 

Bruce needed a break. Bruce questioned why he had so many kids not for the first time in his life. Bruce decided to ignore the fact his child admitted to having a sword somewhere on him and just did as he said he was going to do, continue his day with his daughter and if he held her a little closer to him than usual? Well it couldn’t be helped. 

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I know it’s not like the reactions yet but I am in the process of writing Wish Me Away so take this! XD

طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish): Baby Bat

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar): Big Brother

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 23: Home

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After 5 long years, your family finally moves to a new house. It’s bigger than the house Kiyoomi first lived in. Since you have kids now, so more rooms must be added. You don’t even know how your husband managed to find such a big house that is close to the city.

Kia is beyond excited to have her own room after 3 long years of sharing it with her younger siblings “Wow! My room is so big!” Kia says in awe, her eyes wandering her new room. She climbs up the bed and jumps on it, letting out a series of laughter every time the sole of feet recognize the springy feeling. “I love my bed! It’s big and it’s all mine!”

“Kia, be careful or you’ll fall,” Kiyoomi warns her. Done checking with Kia, he follows Mina and your family dog, Momo, inside her new room. “Do you like it?”

“Where’s Momo’s bed?” Mina asks as she looks around the room for the said thing. The Shiba Inu follows behind her like a loyal servant.

“I thought you wanted Momo to sleep beside you?” Kia’s eyes turn wide in joy as she runs to her father. She raises her arms so Kiyoomi bends down and she gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“Momo, give papa a kiss too!” Mina cheers and the dog jumps on Kiyoomi. He catches him with his hands and stretches his arms away from his body.

“We’re not close enough to be kissing,” Kiyoomi tells Momo and puts him down. Momo resembles his cousin, Komori, so Kiyoomi feels awkward showing affection towards him.

Kiyoomi leaves Mina to discover her room, which is very kid-friendly since that’s what he specifically asked the interior designer of the house when it was being built. He then heads to where you and the twins are. From your posture and way of speaking, it seems like you’re having an argument with your youngest children.

“What’s wrong?” Kiyoomi asks you, casually putting a hand on your hip and pulling you close to him. He eyes Kin and sees the scowl on his son’s face. Kiyoomi sticks his tongue out, childishly mocking him.

“Stop that. He’s your son,” you scold your husband and he stops making fun of Kin. “Kin and Mira wants to sleep in their rooms.”

“Then, let them? Does it really matter?” Kiyoomi answers and the twins nod, agreeing to his words.

“We’re big now!” They tell you in unison.

“You’re three and you don’t want to sleep with mama anymore?” You sigh in disappointment.

“Are you scared on your own mama?” Kin frowns and you nod dramatically. Kiyoomi gags at your acting and you nudge his side with your elbow. “Do you want Kin to stay with you?”

“She has me,” Kiyoomi butts in and Kin gives him an unamused gaze.

“You’re not even home most of the time...” Kin rebuts with confidence. Kiyoomi grimaces at his son’s words and you just laugh. “Right, Mira?”

“Right!” Mira just agrees to whatever her twin brother says.

“Listen to the kids, Omi,” you whisper to him and he rolls his eyes. “Please set up the table in the garden. It’s almost dinner time.” You kiss your husband’s cheek and then you hear Kin chant that he wants kisses too. You fulfill your son’s wishes before skipping happily to your new kitchen.

The three of them set up the table just like you requested, while the two older girls help you in the kitchen. “I’m cooking the meat now,” Kiyoomi tells you as he takes out the meat from the freezer. You hum and continue cooking the other dishes.

“Go help your papa set up the table,” you order Kia and Mina. They wipe their hands clean before going out to help their father.

Kin and Mira keep running back and forth from the kitchen to the garden as they carry one plate at a time. Kia and Mina are arranging the table cloth and wiping the benches clean. Momo is helping by making sure that no bugs or birds are landing on the plates and being cute of course.

“Do you want meat?” Kiyoomi asks his kids. They don’t answer him as they are too preoccupied with other things.

Kia hears him and answers, “I’m not in the mood to eat meat papa.”

“Momo, do you want meat?” The dog barks at his question and points his forefingers at him. “You’re my favorite child for a reason.”

“Why is Momo your favorite child? You said you’re not even close enough to kiss!” Mina pouts and glares at her father.

“Mama said favoritism is bad!” Kia reprimands her father, her hands on her hips. “We are your children! You should love us equally!”

“Right! Love us equally!” Mira echoes her sister’s words, putting her hands on her hips as well.

“I thought I was your favorite!” Kin complains and Kiyoomi’s eyes dart at him.

“You don’t even like me!” Kiyoomi complains back and Kin raises his forefinger up as if he’s going to make such a great point.

“But mama said you specifically asked for me, which means I am your favorite,” Kin explains and just when Kiyoomi is about to make a retorting statement, Mira shouts.

“Papa! The meat is burning!”

“Shit!” Kiyoomi curses as he tries to weaken the fire. The garden falls dead silent as his kids stare at him in disbelief and shock. Their father could curse? “What?”

“You said a bad word!” Kia gasps dramatically.

“Said a bad word!” Mira mimics Kia’s dramatic gasp.

“No I didn’t!” Kiyoomi tries to argue, attempting to sound believable.

“Papa, stop lying. Even Momo heard it...” Mina says in disappointment. The barks as if he’s agreeing to Mina.

“Remember when I said I’ll buy you a trampoline when we move houses?” Kiyoomi tries to change the topic so he can escape his children’s interrogation.

“Shit!” Kin says loudly, and as if on cue, you go out to the garden and hear your three year old son cuss with all of his heart.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi! How many times do I have to warn you about not cussing in front of the kids?!” Kiyoomi face palms and glares at Kin. The younger boy just shrugs and runs to help you with the dishes you are carrying.

Before dinner starts, you want to take a picture of your family for keepsake. Sadly, that isn’t easy to do with four kids.

Mira and Kin are fighting over who gets to sit on your lap, leading to the twins crying. Kia is restless and hungry and just wants the picture to be taken but her siblings are acting up, which leads to her acting up as well. Mina is shy and hiding behind Momo. Kiyoomi is trying his best to make the twins to settle down so he attempts to take Kin away from you, but the boy just grabs his hair and tugs on it quite harshly.

In the photos taken, you have no good ones as expected. Kia is frowning at all the pictures. In one picture she’s rolling her eyes in irritation. Mina’s face can’t be seen since she’s hiding behind your family dog. Kin is still grabbing Kiyoomi’s hair and scratching his face, holding whatever is close to him. Mira is wailing on your lap and is screaming ‘papa’ since she wants to be with Kiyoomi now. Meanwhile, you and Kiyoomi look so tired and haggard in the photos. The only one who looks good in the photos is Momo. The dog is just sitting and smiling with his tongue out. So much for just one family picture.

Dinner finally starts after that chaotic pictorial and you say your thanks before eating. Kiyoomi cuts the burnt steak he cooked into smaller pieces and attempts to give it to Kin. His son rejects it so Kiyoomi sighs and takes the meat out of his bowl.

“I’ll eat it!” Kia volunteers and lifts her bowl so Kiyoomi can put the meat in it.

“I thought you were not in the mood for meat?” Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow at her but gives her the beef anyways.

“I changed my mind,” Kia reasons.

No, she didn’t. Kia hasn’t changed her mind. She really doesn’t want to eat the steak but when she saw Kiyoomi’s sad expression because of Kin’s rejection, she felt bad for him. She can’t scold Kin about rejecting food yet since he’s young, but she has to show him that the food their parents are providing them is special

“It’s good papa,” Kia compliments her father. Kiyoomi smiles at her and he continues to cook meat. She eats what he gives her without complains. Seeing his sister eat with gusto, Kin asks for meat and eats it.

“Me too!” Mira gives her bowl to Kiyoomi which he gladly puts the sliced beef in. She happily eats it and even feeds her twin brother with it.

Kia watches her father’s face light up in satisfaction which makes her feel blissful.

——————————————————————————

It’s 12AM and Kiyoomi feels a small hand tugging on his finger. He wakes up from the touch, and sees his son with an almost crying face. “Hi, buddy. Why are you up?”

“Want to sleep with you,” Kin answers, pulling his little blanket close to his chest. Kiyoomi’s heart softens. Kin may act like he hates his father, but deep down he wants his attention and affection too.

Seeing his son’s scared image, he jumps out of bed and picks him up. If Kin is scared, so must be Mira.“Okay. Let’s go get your sister first.” He walks to Mira’s room as quiet as possible so he doesn’t wake you or any of his daughters up.

Kiyoomi sees Mira’s door open so he quickly checks the room and doesn’t see her there. He hears murmurs from Kia’s room and also notices how Mina’s room is empty.

“Don’t be scared. Nee-chan is here!” Kiyoomi overhears Kia speak. He peeks at the small opening at the doorway and sights Kia putting Mina and Mira to bed. “Do you want me to tell you a story?”

“Yes...” Mira answers, shifting closer to Mina so they can cuddle. Momo is sleeping at the end of the bed, unbothered.

“We are going to have a new baby sister!” Kia confidently announces.

‘That’s not a story! That’s a gossip!’ Kiyoomi chuckles and then enters the room, which surprises his three daughters. “What are the three of you talking about that is keeping you awake at this?”

“Papa! Tell us a story!” Kia tries to hide their recent conversation, but her expression is giving it away. She looks like a deer that has been seen in the middle of the road. “Mina and Mira were scared so they went in my room to sleep.”

‘They’re still sleeping together in one room after all.’

“Okay. I’ll tell you a story. What kind of story do you want?” Kiyoomi gives in and sits on Kia’s bed. He puts Kin down on the bed and he snuggles close to his twin sister immediately.

“About you and mama!” Kia giggles as she joins in her other siblings.

“Again?” Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow at her. Kia loves hearing stories about the two of you. It puts her at ease.

Kiyoomi starts to share a random story about you and him during high school. Your first time meeting his family exactly. And midway, he hears his children snoring soundly so he stops speaking. He then notices Kia looking out her window.

“Go to sleep...” He tells her.

“Papa, I am so happy you’re my father,” Kia says out of nowhere, taking Kiyoomi aback. “I don’t think I would be this happy if you weren’t.”

“I’m happy you’re my daughter, too.” Kiyoomi kisses the top of her head and then smiles at her.

Kiyoomi is thankful.

Kiyoomi is very thankful that she is his daughter. If he didn’t meet Kia 5 years ago, he wouldn’t know where or who he’d be now. Having children changed him and probably made him a better person. He still can’t go on a crowd on his own, but if he’s with his kids, everything possible for him. Kiyoomi is willing to go out of his comfort zone if it means his children’s happiness.

Kiyoomi thankful that you gave him a chance to prove that he can be Kia’s father. Not just Kia, but also Mina, Mira and Kin. He knows how stressed you are with having to take care of 4 kids and him not being around most of the time, but you still stayed. You never gave up on motherhood, your children and him. He falls in love with you again and again every single day just for it. You are the best thing that has happened to him.

Kiyoomi is thankful that he has a house where you and your children are in. He doesn’t go home everyday but he knows that when he does, you’re there to welcome him. Kia is there caring for her younger siblings with you. Mina is there drawing on the living room, while her dog, Momo, sleeps on the couch. Mira is there running after her twin brother and making sure he doesn’t hurt himself. Kin is there watching everything you do because he loves you so much. You’re there raising your children with sincerity and love. You and your child are there waiting for him.

Kiyoomi is thankful that he gets to go home to where the five of you are.

Sakusa Kiyoomi is thankful that you’re his home.

“I’m also excited for my new baby sister,” Kia mentions again. Kiyoomi for sure knows you aren’t pregnant because if you are, you would be complaining about it again. Or are you hiding it from him?

“Did your mama tell you that?” He asks for assurance that this is only part of Kia’s imagination and random child babbles.

“No, but I’m sure that mama has our baby sister in her stomach.” Kia closes her eyes and hugs Mina who is beside her.

“Okay...” Kiyoomi lets it pass and slowly drifts back to sleep, too tired to go back to your room.

Morning comes and you wake up to an empty space beside you. “Kiyoomi must have gone jogging...” You yawn and stretch your arms up. It’s already 6AM but you don’t hear any of your children chant the word, “mama” so you stand up and check on them. The silence is too rare that it’s scaring you.

Mira’s, Kin’s and Mina’s rooms are empty so you get anxious. You’re telling yourself that maybe Kiyoomi brought them jogging with him so you’ll feel better, but your anxiety grows since you know that Kiyoomi will never bring the four of them with him. Momo goes out of Kia’s room so you run to it, in hopes that your children are all there.

They are, and your husband is also there.

Kia and Mina are tucked in Kiyoomi’s armpits. Their hands holding onto their father’s shirt. Mira’s face is flat laid flat on Kiyoomi’s stomach, but her body is on the bed. Kin is on his thighs, the small boy hugging the muscular leg. You let out a silent giggle at the cute sight in front of you.

And all that happiness fades when you suddenly feel lightheaded. The feeling of being nauseous hits you so you run to Kia’s bathroom, which wakes everyone in the room up.

“Babe, are you okay?” Kiyoomi asks you he shakes his kids off his body.

“See, papa? I told you mama has our baby sister in her stomach!” Kia states as she rubs her sleepy eyes.

“We’re having another child?!”

End.

——————————————————————————

Thank you so much for supporting my first ever story here. This will forever have a special place in my heart. I hope you all enjoyed it ♥️

[its-deputy-caleb]

If you're feeling up to writing a bit of Mikey, could I please request him being an asshat to everyone and being told off by his S/O after he asks Jack if he wants to earn a dollar?

(You know the part where he says to ask Arthur about the stick up his butt?)

He's such a dickhead and I find myself telling the screen off when he does it! 😂

OR

His S/O giving him a slap and a bollocking after he kicks Cain, then they fuss over Cain and force Micah to make friends with him.

I dunno, it's up to you 😂 You could write any scenario you want, I'll still love it 😘😘

i am always up to writing for a bit of mikey (that nickname is so cute) but ngl i had no idea how to write this or put this together. I watched the clips again so i could get it accurate but i changed it bc i didn't know if u wanted a happy ending or not but i hope i delivered <33 also u asked for either and i gave u both :)

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

Clemens Point was a strange place with even stranger people. After leaving valentine in a hurry it seems the entire gang was on edge and ready to blow like a stick of dynamite. It seems having to act like upstanding heartfelt citizens to the Grays and the Braithwaites has meant everyone is that aggravated and pent up.

On more than one occasion you’d seen Sadie lose it when Pearson got to pushy with chores and it seems Abigail and John couldn’t stand to have a normal conversation for five minutes before one of them broke. It wasn’t much better with Dutch and Hosea who were constantly disagreeing on the right moves for the gang, although they were much more civil about it.

You did your best to keep out of everyone’s way, to avoid the confrontation but knowing your luck you’d end up getting involved one way or another.

You were returning to camp one sweltering hot afternoon with Sadie after you finished collecting the gang’s weekly stock from the general store. You were only half listening to the hustle around the camp as you were too busy listening to Sadie tell you all about Pearson’s dear aunt Cathy. You stepped off the wagon and headed to the back to start unloading some of the supplies when the sound of Micah’s voice could be heard talking to Jack.

“How’d ya like to earn a dollar?”

His voice with thick with malice as he hunched over the wooden table. In Micah’s hands was a silver nickel that he fiddled with between his fingers, much like you’d seen of him do with his knife. Your eyes found Jack who was almost reluctant to get anywhere near the man who you knew scared him. However, being the innocent child that he was his eyes lit up at the sight of something shiny.

“A dollar? Sure.”

You carried the heavy bag of potatoes over to Pearson’s wagon as you went back for another round of supplies but you kept the boy in the corner of your eye.

“Well…go on up to old Arthur Morgan, ask him about the pole he’s got stuck up his ass and I’ll give ya a dollar.”

Micah’s face lit up in a smirk, his accent thick and his typical evil giggle falling from his mouth. He sat back on the chair, satisfied at the mischief he’s caused.

Before you could get anywhere Jack had run off to where Arthur was sitting in his tent, reading over a letter. You placed another round of ammunition into Strauss’ wagon, dropping it hastily and running as you saw Arthur walk right up to Micah with a murderous look in his eye.

“I’ll give you a dollar if you shut your—“

Arthur didn’t get to finish his insult before you stepped in front of him with a soft hand on his shoulder. You gave him a soft smile and a nod, quietly saying to your dear friend that you’d handle this.

With that you turned with your own look of anger directed to Micah. Everyone knew you loved him but they also knew you didn’t hesitate to call him out and get him to behave when you had to.

“Micah leave the damn boy alone!”

He scoffed like he wasn’t offended you didn’t defend him and instead chose to call him out. Micah’s hands came up in his signal of fake defeat as he slowly backed away from his place at the table, acting as if he was nothing more than the innocent bystander and not the one who nearly ended up on the ground with a broken nose for starting it.

You watched as Micah lingered around the edge of the camp, his eyes trained to yours as he lit a cigarette but you ignored him. Instead you walked over to Jack, smiling softly and taking his hand to lead him to the river’s edge.

“Common, why don’t we go see if we can find any beautiful rock on the sand, hmm? I’m sure your mother would love such a beautiful gift.”

-

Of course, it wasn’t more than a few days later when you ran into trouble again with Micah. You’d spent your time ignoring him mostly, instead choosing to go hunting with Charles and Arthur, practice your throwing knives with Javier and help teach Jack to read. You knew how badly it pissed Micah off to do things without him but he needed to understand that there was a way to treat people, especially with people you considered family.

You rolled up your sleeves, using your forearm to wipe the sweat from your forehead as you picked up the knife and started cutting carrots and potatoes for tonights stew.

“Are you a good boy? Yes you are! The best boy”

Your head came up to notice bill sitting against the log by the campfire, scratching under Cain’s chin and giving the energetic dog pats along the back. You couldn’t help but smile at the new addition to the gang and how happy it made you to see Bill less stressed. It seemed that having Cain made everyone feel more caring and loving.

All except Micah.

“You’re the fool that feed’s him Marion. He ain’t nothing more than a filthy mongrel and an extra mouth to feed.”

Micah had stood from his place on the opposite side of the campfire to antagonise Bill. A frustrated noise leaves you as you slam the knife down on the wooden bench, ready to storm over there and chew Micah’s ear off. You take a step forward only for Miss Grimshaw, who was working next to you, to grab your arm and stop you before you get any further.

“There is a time and a place dear, don’t make it worse.”

Of course you knew Susan was just trying to keep another argument from happening but you push past her when you see Micah inching towards Cain who had left his spot at Bill’s feet to hide by a wagon. In a split second decision you pick the knife you’re cooking with and use it like a throwing knife to get his attention. The knife swings through the air, not getting near anyone, it wasn’t like you actually wanted to stab Micah no matter how badly he could get on your nerves and watched as it got wedged into the tree behind him.

Micah’s head shot up, his foot moving away from Cain and stared dumbfounded and shocked, unused to seeing you so skilfully throw a knife but your practices paid off. You walked right into his personal space, taping your finger against his chest.

“Don’t. You. Dare”

Micah’s first response was to try and sweet-talk his way out of it like he always does but you were in no mood to deal with his slyness.

“Dare to do what sweetheart? Common now… weren’t gonna do nothin—“

Your hand came to give Micah a crisp slap across the cheek, apart of you was shocked that you’d even do such a thing but the other half of you was furious.

“Don’t underestimate for a minute that I won’t dump you right now and throw you out of camp Micah. I’m not some stranger you can sweet-talk when you get in trouble. I swear, if I see you go anywhere near Cain the knife isn’t going to hit the tree next time.”

Micah’s eyebrows shoot up in shock as you lecture him in front of almost the entire gang. Even Dutch put his book down when he heard your slap. He was lost for words, truely, having now other thought as he watched you walk away back to preparing tonights stew. He didn’t move from his place until he heard you whistle for Cain to sit by your feet, where he went and meandered off into the forest to give you space. All he knew was that he must have fucked up bad if you threatened to leave him.

-

A few hours later you’d managed to calm down, watching the sunset after Ms Grimshaw gave you the rest of the night off to relax at how pent up you were. Now sitting here you couldn’t help but feel like you may have over reacted but Micah had pushed your buttons one too many times and if Micah was going to listen to anyone it would be you. You let out a soft but hearty sigh as the tension and stress from your shoulders left with your breath. Your body relaxed against the tree and you watched the sun gently dip below the horizon.

It was well and truely dark before you heard the rustling of grass and the thud of someone sitting next to you. You thought it may have been Arthur coming to check on you but that thought died when arms wrapped around your waist and you felt Micah rest his chin on your shoulder, his stringy hair tickling your face at the gentle breeze.

“…M’ sorry…”

A very quiet and forced apology was pulled from Micah as he cuddled into you, mumbling it into your shoulder at the pain of actually having to apologise.

“Sorry won’t cut it Micah. You have to stop treating people that I care about— people that are family better.”

Micah sighs, the defeated, tired one that shows he’s willing to listen because no matter how badly he stirs up trouble, the thought of losing you is enough to have him turn his mind around.

“I know…gonna make it up to ya I promise.”

A soft and very cautious kiss is placed on your shoulder with Micah knowing he’s still not forgiven by you yet.

“You’re damn well gonna make it up to me. Firstly you’re apologising to Jack first thing tomorrow and secondly you need to pull your weight for this gang— and no I’m not talking about robbing another coach. To start you can sit on guard duty with me and you can wash my clothes.”

“I’ll just buy you new clothes”

You give Micah a death glare as you tilt your head to look at him. Instantly his teasing smirk leaves and his arms come to wrap tighter around your body, resting his hands on your stomach and intertwining your fingers.

“Alright, alright… guard duty ain’t so bad.”

You sit together for a while in a comfortable silence. All the energy from today had left you and you no longer had it in you to keep arguing. You’d hold Micah to his promise to do better but for now you leant back into his embrace and rested your head against his.

“Can I at least sleep in the tent tonight?”

You smiled softly as you hummed in contemplation just to tease him. Micah hadn’t come to sleep in your shared tent since the day he messed with Jack and both of you had missed each other despite the frustration and anger you had.

“Hmm, we’ll see.”

Micah thinks you’ve said no, panicking internally but is stopped when you turn your head and place a soft kiss to his cheek over the mark from where you’d slapped him not so long ago. It wasn’t the kiss that he wanted but he still needed to make it up to you before you gave him what he wanted.

You reached a soft hand up behind you, cradling his head and rubbing your thumb over his sore cheek.

“Is your cheek okay?”

Micah let out a gravelly noise, deep from his chest as he leaned into your hand.

“Ain’t gotta worry sweetheart, I’ve survived much worse”

You don’t get to reply when a tentative and cautious Cain makes his way over to the two of you. You pat your leg and he curls up beside you with his head resting on your leg and his tail thumbing, relaxed and happy.

Micah on the other hand was not relaxed or happy as he tensed up and moved away from the dog and you. If it wasn’t for your hand holding the back of his head he probably would’ve jumped away.

“Micah Cain isn’t going to hurt you, he just wants attention like you. See? No need to be afraid.”

To prove your point you reach a hand out and gently brush over his short, grey fur, watching as he perks up.

“I ain’t afraid!”

You would’ve believed him if you didn’t catch the waver in his voice but you knew. You knew after seeing him be spooked by the animal more than once around camp.

The hand that was still intertwined with his gently guided his hand pat Cain, letting him slowly get comfortable to him.

It took some time but finally Micah had gotten used to Cain enough to realise he was clearly not a threat. At some point Cain had moved over to Micah’s side, resting beside him as the night became later.

A yawn left you and you slowly sank into Micah’s embrace, your eyelids falling shut as you dozed, clearly exhausted.

Holding Micah to his promise was a job for tomorrow, but for now you let yourself fall asleep in his arms, the tent be damned.