#last year i felt so horrible i just sat at home watched through the trees & felt more horrible because i was sitting at home and not going

[froggyrights2]

I could write such a killer autobiography if I was more full of myself

[vanillann]

this is how you fall in love

(s.h. x gender neutral!reader)

i. ii. iii.

i wrote a fic like this for george weasley and i got bored a wrote one for steve

it’s sucks for beware

TW: nightmare and talk of death

Steve's knuckles gripped the nailed baseball bat with fear. He didn't know where Dustin or anyone else had gone; he could only hear the faint sound of screams. Fog climbed up his leg like an animal climbing a tree.

"Guys!"

His voice echoed off the imagery walls of his mind, and a piercing howl followed closely behind. He was going to die, he was confident in that, but he really didn't want to die alone. He didn't want Dustin to find his mangled body with blood seeping through his new polo. He didn't want Robin to beg him to walk up because they had a shift on Tuesday he couldn't miss. He didn't want Max to lose another brother; she didn't deserve that.

Steve always knew he would die alone; he just hoped he was wrong.

"Steve," the gentle voice made Steve panic more; since when could a Demogorgon talk?

"Steve!"

His body bolted forward, the sweat sticking the butter-yellow sheets to his calves. Cold hands ghosted over his clammy figure, bringing him back to reality. The vintage dresser and vase of sunflowers reminded Steve of the life he had built. No Demogorgon in sight, and he was far from alone.

"Are you okay, sweets?" (Y/N) sat up fully, holding the sheets close to their chest as it rose and fell rapidly. With the wild hair and panic breathing, Steve wondered whether he was the one who actually had the nightmare or was it his sweet lover.

"Did I wake you up?" Steve swallowed the last scream, hoping to forget the panic moments ago.

"Do you need some tea? I can get the satin sheets. I know those always help when you sweat in your sleep," before Steve could answer, (Y/N) was falling out of bed. Their pantless form scurried across the carpeted floor, muttering under their breath.

Steve wished they'd stay in bed a few minutes longer because now he was alone again. His fingers rubbed the worry from his hair, which he sloppy cut all those years ago after reading an article at the doctor that hair could hold memories. He thought giving himself a horrible haircut would stop the nightmares, but they didn't, and he no longer had his perfect hair. He cried, rightfully sobbed, until (Y/N) came home and braided the choppy strains. He came home the next day with every hair product that promised fast growth.

The memory calmed Steve's nerves long enough to remove himself from the soft bedding and make his way through the apartment. The sound of dishes crashing to the floor made a smirking ghost over his strong jawline.

"Shit," (Y/N) stood in the center of a chaotic mess holding a steaming cup of coffee that was almost white from milk and sugar.

Just how he liked it.

"We really need to move those pans," Steve pointed to the pots and pans that hung over the island, which was a cute idea but with the way (Y/N) moved, it was a funeral waiting to happen, and he could lose them to a pot. He couldn't lose them, period.

"Go back to bed," (Y/N) ignored the comment, moving to grab a muffin that Nancy had dropped off a few days ago after Robin and her started watching a new cooking show.

"You first," Steve picked up the pans and other things that ended on the floor and took a seat on the mismatched barstools.

"You're the one having nightmares," they sighed, sitting beside him on the other barstool. He said nothing, looping his finger on the leg and dragging in so close Steve could hear their heartbeat through the thick band tee.

"I'm fine."

"Liar."

Steve felt tingles climb up his spine with a rush to his head. They knew he wasn't okay. It wasn't just the screaming and thrashing in his sleep; no, it was much more than that. It was Nancy and Robin conveniently finding the recipe for his favorite muffin. It was the guest room for when he needed someone who survived those attacks to be here in case he needed to talk. It was the fact there wasn't a baseball bat in the house, even if (Y/N) played in their free time.

This was pure, honest love, and Steve couldn't contain the emotions running around his cerebral cortex.

"I love you, you know?"

"I know; I love you." Steve couldn't name the day or even the month it happened, but he watched (Y/N) 's eye bags watching him like the stars during a meteor shower, he knew.

This was falling in love, Steve Harrington was in love, and he was far from alone. It was his greatest fear since his junior year, hell, maybe even before then. He thought the upside down would take everything from him because he would let it. He wasn't strong enough to save everyone.

Barb.

Bob.

Billy.

Heather.

He let the upside-down win; even if he wasn't there, he shouldn't have done something. He was supposed to save everyone, and he couldn't, but sitting in the messy kitchen with the love of his life watching him so closely, he knew.

This was how he fell in love.

His knuckles, the same ones white from fear only moments earlier, now traced his lover's jaw. He saved himself for them without even knowing it.

"Thank you," he muttered softly as if the cabinets could hear the inanimate conversation.

"Don't thank me for loving you; just love me back," (Y/N) leaned closer to his touch, softly closing their eyes.

"I can do that," and he would forever.

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[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

The Road Less Travelled (Legolas x Reader) (Part 2)

A/N: A continuation of my Fellowship x Pregnant! Reader story, in which you ended up choosing Legolas to help raise your unplanned child. Part 2 can be read without reading part 1 first.

Synopsis: Life with Legolas, your two daughters and your treehouse is perfect, until one night, parental instincts go on ignored, and things go deeply awry.

Warnings: I watched The Conjuring before bed tonight and was unfortunately inspired. Enjoy. Also Legolas is a cute adoptive father send tweet.

Pairings: Legolas x Reader

Word Count: 2610

Rain fell heavily outside, though yourself and your family did not feel said rain. Buried below glorious crowns of leaves, your treehouse was situated securely.

Built into the thick trunk of an Ithilien tree by Legolas’ own bare hands, your treehouse was set with two bedrooms, and resembled an elevated cottage more than anything else. Around the length of the cosy home, a rounded balcony lay.

Leading down from said balcony was an old rope your children used to climb to and from home. One broken ankle later from your youngest twin, however, and a winding set of stairs was built into the trunk below, too — leading up to your balcony.

And indeed, “twins” was right.

Learning on the Fellowship’s journey that you were pregnant with that no-good Brander’s child was shocking enough, let alone discovering at the actual birth that said little baby’s embryo had split into two, providing you with a set of beautiful daughters.

Fortunately, they were nothing alike their biological father in spirit — possessing kind hearts and noble souls instead. Even more fortunately, they garnered your looks. Regarding their appearances, although twins, they each held distinctive differences.

Perhaps the luckiest of all, your old Fellowship colleague, now turned husband, seemed to have the most influence on both Ivorwen and Tobrien — better known simply as “Ivy” and “Toby”.

Rabbit stew, a recipe sent from your Shire friends, was made for dinner that night, as the four of you sat around a wooden table and ate merrily, enjoying the lively atmosphere the warm candles provided.

“There is still hair on the meat!” Ivy insisted, though, the grin on her 9-year-old cheeks gave away her agenda.

“There is not!” Legolas urged back, sharing her grin.

You and Toby laughed brightly, passing a plate of rolls between one another. This argument had been going on since before any of you had even sat down.

Ivy made a show of stabbing a chunk of rabbit and holding it up. “Yes, there is! See? There’s hair on it! You’re a horrible cook after all!”

Legolas made a show of squinting his eyes and leaning across the table to inspect the chunk of rabbit, before settling back into his chair and pressing on.

“That’s most likely your own hair! How many times have I encouraged you to learn my version of braiding?” Legolas pointed out, gesturing to his own locks.

Your eyes crinkled with amusement and love, as you watched the dad and daughter exchange teasing words, even if none of those words were actually “dad”, “father” or even “ada”.

“You’re impossible, Varno,” Ivy shook her head, still smiling nonetheless. “Just admit your talent lies in hunting and not in cooking.”

“I resent that accusation,” Legolas playfully warned, pointing a fork at Ivy.

“Varno” was a name both you and Legolas had decided upon. “Ada” reminded him too much of his own father, and “uncle” simply felt too misplaced.

So, instead, “Varno” was decided upon — meaning “protector” in Legolas’ own language, which is exactly what he had been for you, ever since that fateful night by the campfire you’d learnt of your predicament.

Although many of your friends and colleagues that evening offered you their hand in marriage, you had felt a maternal stirring within you. Something told you to choose the best of the best for your unborn offspring, and who better than a steadfast elf to keep you safe?

You had been watching Legolas one night, a few evenings after learning of the life growing within you, with your hand over your stomach.

Although you still didn’t quite have the full comprehension of knowledge behind this, you truly believed, till this day, that both Ivy and Toby told you to “choose that one—he’s our dad”.

Resolute in your mind, you approached Legolas and accepted his offer of marriage. He was ecstatic and gleeful, and then a little boastful to the other suitors. Cockiness befell him for a short while, until your stomach grew and a paternal kick changed him.

He matured overnight and grew from a young archer into an awaiting father, despite the girls not being his. That never slowed him, though—he was a better father to Ivy and Toby than some real dads were to their own children.

He soon married you after the war, and the rest was history.

After you had to break Legolas and Ivy’s “fight” up with a laugh and a motherly warning, the table was cleared.

“All right, dishes to the kitchen, and then teeth,” Legolas announced, quirking a brow in Ivy’s direction as she walked past.

Legolas mouthed to her that their fight wasn’t over, and Ivy made a show of raising her brows once in challenge.

“She gets that from Gimli, I know it. Don’t ask me how,” Legolas whispered to you, as you too walked by.

“Intrusive visits and loud Yules,” you joked, grinning over your shoulder at your best friend.

Grimacing, Legolas winced his teeth with a hiss. “Do not speak of such holidays, let us just enjoy the autumn while it lasts.”

“You don’t want Yule to come soon?” Toby asked, appearing from behind Legolas, and peeking her head around his torso to gaze up in his direction. “What about toys?”

“Galadriel sends the best, and nothing has topped the bow she gave me in Lothlorien eight years ago,” Legolas replied. “Have you brushed your teeth yet, aranel?” (princess)

Toby made a prolonged noise, as she beamed brightly to show off her teeth.

“No, I don’t fall for pretty girls and pretty teeth, thank you very much,” said Legolas shaking his head. “Breath test.”

He bent down and allowed her to piggyback ride him. Standing swiftly, he looked over his shoulder and at her, where she then breathed loudly with an open mouth into his face.

Legolas scrunched his nose and recoiled. “Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell someone with stinky gums. And I’ve been to Mordor.”

Toby’s eyes grew bright with excitement. “Will you tell us another Fellowship story tonight?”

“Only if you brush your teeth,” Legolas answered, nuzzling his nose with hers.

Ivy walked past again, done with her dishes, and scoffed at Legolas. “Don’t listen to him, Toby. It’s bribery!”

Legolas gently kicked her ankle as she walked by, although, a feather could’ve done more damage—your “gentle giant”, you called him.

“Very well then, tonight I’ll tell you all about the Mouth of Sauron, and why brushing your teeth is important,” Legolas said again, turning around to watch the eldest twin head for the bathroom down the hall.

She waved him off over her shoulder, before disappearing to brush her teeth.

Toby swiftly kissed Legolas’ cheek, before dismounting from the piggyback ride and skipping after her sister.

You watched from the kitchen sink with a warm smile, and wiped a bowl with a dry rag. You observed the ardent love in Legolas’ eyes, as he watched the hall for a minute, where Toby and Ivy could be heard giggling over their dad’s cooking skills.

He finally shook his head and turned to you, wearing a content smile of his own. Catching your warm expression, he walked towards you with a sly question on his tongue.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you replied, returning to the dishes. “But have I ever thanked you for marrying me and helping me to raise those two ladies?”

“Ladies is a stretching term,” said Legolas, coming up behind you with a wrapping of your torso and a burying of his cheek in your hair, as he hugged you from behind, “but no—I don’t think the few thousand times is enough. Could you perhaps tell me once more?”

You melted into his hug, laughed like bright bells, and turned around. Wrapping your own arms around him, you buried your head into his shoulder and embraced him tightly.

“Well, thank you,” you emphasised, teasing him slightly.

Rocking the hug a little, he kissed the top of your head, and responded after a moment. “Actually, it is you all the thanks is owed to—I never assumed a life like this would be possible for me, but here we are.”

“Here we are,” you agreed, squeezing the hug once more.

You both stayed like that for a moment, before he kissed the top of your head again and let go. “You can ready the girls for bed if you’d like, I’ll finish up here.”

You lifted his hand and kissed the back of it, before walking away. Your hands remained held until the distance you walked grew too much, and Legolas had to let go to stay in front of the sink.

He smiled after you, as you disappeared around the wall.

Sighing in tranquillity, as the rain grew outside, Legolas looked out the glass window to his side. All he could make out were tree trunks through the rain and moonlight, and the prince basked in the sense of home for a few seconds.

However, the placid state could only last for so long. Unsure if the girls teasing him all day on their rabbit hunt had just worn him down, or if his eyes were indeed working correctly, a sway of trees exposed a trunk in the distance, where Legolas could have sworn he saw a body scaling.

Narrowing his eyes and knitting his brows, the archer moved closer to the glass window. As his breath fogged up the glass, Legolas moved as close as he dared to the window, observing the distant trunk.

Peering harder and harder, Legolas prayed for the wind to sway the leaves again, so he could view the tree. However, before he had the chance to do so, a quick voice from behind startled him.

“C’mon, Varno!” Toby urged, waving her dad to follow. “Me and Ivy are ready for the bedtime story!”

Legolas jumped on his feet, most unlike an elf indeed, and snapped his eyes over his shoulder to his daughter. Meeting her young gaze, he calmed.

Although, with the odd anomaly on the distant trunk still on his mind, Legolas turned back to the window. The leaves swayed again, and Legolas saw the tree once more. However, this time, no beings scaled the side of it.

He swallowed his nerves and shook his head, as his daughter called him once more.

“Varno?” Her voice was slow and unsure.

Meeting her eyes again, he beamed brightly and ran forwards. Scooping her loudly laughing self into his arms, he spun around and lifted her high—all whilst heading down the hall.

Toby’s laughs and Legolas’ eagle noises alerted you first, as they flew into the bedroom. “Eagle Attack” was a game he’d played with the girls since birth, where he’d lift them high, making them “fly”, and screech obnoxiously.

It usually ended with him gently throwing them down onto a bed or couch, in an effort to tire them out before slumber. Tonight, apparently, was no different.

“Aren’t we a little too old for Eagle Attack, Varno?” Ivy taunted, already sitting cross-legged on her bed, as you brushed her hair beside her.

“I’m over two thousand-years-old, and I still find it fun,” Legolas taunted back. He collapsed onto Toby’s bed with her backwards, leaving the younger twin a laughing mess.

“I do not think that tires them out as much as you believe,” you advised, shaking your head with a smile in your husband and daughter’s direction, who asked for the ride again.

“That’s why I have stories hidden up my sleeve,” Legolas replied. He sat up on his elbows, and smirked at you.

You gave him a playful frown, before finishing Ivy’s hair. Kissing your daughter’s cheek, you began tucking her in.

Legolas readied one candle, and dimmed all the other lanterns, so sleep would find the girls swiftly. Soon, as you tended to Ivy and he to Toby, Legolas’ story began.

It was one you remembered well, and one you also didn’t want to. You appreciated how comical Legolas delivered the story, in a way accessible to children, for there was nothing child-friendly about that war.

It wasn’t long after that, that soft snores from the girls filled the room.

Bringing the woollen blanket up to each daughter’s chin, and kissing their temples, you and Legolas bid them a soft goodnight from the door.

Closing it behind yourselves, you both began the small journey down the hall back to your shared room. He wrapped one arm around your back, and led you safely to the door.

Upon entering the room, you each made your way to your own beds. You had only shared a few kisses on the lips throughout your marriage, usually in times of great emotion, like the birth of your daughters, or the wedding itself.

Yours and Legolas’ marriage was almost entirely platonic, but he loved you more than any other, and you him. Only Ivy and Toby were counted among his other greatest loves, with you sitting safe right beside them.

Although nothing physical or lustful of nature took place between you, your relationship was one of deep devotion, and you had, in your own way, each pledged yourselves entirely to one another.

It was simply the most beautiful friendship, and one neither of you forsook.

Fluffing up your pillow, you rearranged your bed, which was only a metre away from Legolas’ own. He did the same, and hummed to himself slightly over the rain outside.

“This weather is a little intense, isn’t it?” you spoke up, looking at the roof above once in gesture.

He followed your gaze and agreed from behind his concerned frown. “I was almost worried earlier that the roof would collapse, with the leaves now falling and such.”

“For its seventh autumn, it isn’t doing too bad,” you decided, now sliding into bed.

“Agreed,” Legolas smiled, commending himself and his handiwork.

As he slipped into his own sheets, Legolas thought of what he saw earlier scaling the trunk. You were just about to reach over, wish your best friend a goodnight, before turning the candle out, until Legolas’ voice stopped you.

“Actually, meleth nîn���” he called, earning a blinking back of your eyes.

Conflicted over his own words, that same paternal feeling that kicked within him eight years ago drove his instincts. Sucking on his lower lip in thought, Legolas decided to trust whatever his gut was telling him, and lifted his blankets over to the side.

He beckoned you to slide into the covers with him. It was nothing unusual for you both, for many nights you had spent sleeping in the same bed with him. It first started in those early winter days, when your teeth chattered and your bones shivered.

His body warmth provided both solace and security, until you each grew so comfortable around one another that hugging in your sleep seemed as casual as a pat on the shoulder.

You almost went to tease him about being touch-starved or something of the likes, until you saw the look behind his eyes. They were the eyes of a concerned patriarch, and you knew better than to disagree with him.

After all, you knew to trust your own maternal instincts. His were no different.

Without saying a word, you slipped out from your bed and climbed into his, relishing in the warmth of his arms. He kissed the top of your head goodnight, before turning the candle off.

Only a small percentage of the fear within his stomach subsided, but he tried hard to fight it away. Nonetheless, the rain lulled him to sleep, where he then fell into a light slumber alongside you.

That is, until the bloodcurdling screaming of the girls started.

[pillage-and-lute]

The Stars Are Not Wanted Now

Was this among my list of WIPs I posted recently? No. Not at all. Because it popped into my head fully formed and hurt my feelings so I decided to make it everyone’s problem.

TW: Believed character death (not real) ,grief, discussions of hallucinations.

Title cheerfully stolen from W. H. Auden’s Funeral Blues

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It took Geralt almost an hour to realize what he’d done. He’d sat and stewed and wished his tearducts would give him more catharsis than a handful of small drops. He wanted to sob, really cry, eyes red and face wet, but his body let him down. He stared for a while at the dirt. At the footprints in the dirt.

They weren’t his. They were from Jaskier’s stupid shiny boots. Impractical boots that gave him blisters, but he’d only had enough money for one pair and he needed ‘court boots’ apparently. And he was walking down the mountain in those silly boots and a doublet that wouldn’t keep him warm as the mountain air chilled with night and Geralt had just let him go. Geralt had made him go. He didn’t have any gear, they shared gear and Geralt had made him leave.

Geralt’s slow, witcher heart beat double time as he realized he might have murdered his bard. 

Roach huffed at him for being gone so long but he shushed her and loaded her up as quickly as he could. He needed her, and Jaskier needed him.

Geralt followed the footprints like a bloodhound, eyes and senses searching, but his mind wandered behind. Their relationship was such an odd one, Jaskier always traveling ahead or staying behind. Bards needed audiences and witchers needed wilderness, but they were never more than a few days from eachother, and every town Geralt went into he could be sure Jaskier was there. There had been exceptions of course, when bardic festivals or court appointments swayed Jaskier’s path, but he always came back. It was down to the separate nature of Geralt’s Path, with the capital P, and Jaskier’s path. Bards traveled between towns, straight shots, rarely sleeping rough, so his bard didn’t need gear, and it would only slow him down. Witchers wandered, fighting a monster here, collecting potion ingredients there, and coming to towns only for contracts and coin.

Geralt’s eyes scanned every inch of the track, never missing the boot prints, noting the depth of them, the scent of sadness lingering. A human would have missed the single, red thread caught on a bush, the shade of Jaskier’s stupid, too thin doublet. Geralt’s fingers plucked it from a branch. 

He remembered how, in the first years of their acquaintance, he’d watched the bard walk away each time, believing he’d never see him again. But Jaskier had always come back. He’d circle around or wait in the next tiny village, playing ditties for barmaids and he’d greet Geralt with a smile that struck something sensitive and previously well protected in Geralt’s chest. Slowly Geralt had started expecting Jaskier’s presence and those treasured smiles.

It had come with detriments, that was true, Jaskier talked so much Geralt wondered how he found the air and he was foppish and disinclined to wake before noon. It was just that, so slowly that Geralt didn’t know how it had happened, those faults found favor in Geralt’s eyes. 

And now he’d told Jaskier he was a burden. That he wanted him gone. As Geralt had grown to treasure his bard he’d stopped expecting Jaskier would leave him and started fearing he would instead. Geralt had just been the creator of his own nightmares, doing to their friendship what wind, weather, time, and age could not. 

That was the thing, Geralt thought as his eyes scanned the trail, near invisible in the dark. Age. Jaskier was forty at least. Crow’s feet, Yennefer had said. He would have to leave Geralt sooner or later, settle in some city and see him only if Geralt sought him out. The impending end to their precious routine rolled Geralt’s stomach and took over his thoughts. Now, though, well, how weak was a forty year old human? Strong enough to go down the mountain in the dark? It seemed so, which was frustrating. Geralt was going as fast as he could while tracking Jaskier’s every footstep, but even his magical eyes only saw so much in total darkness. Jaskier was hiking blind. 

A new scent drifted to Geralt’s nose. Wolf. A mixture of fur and wilderness and wet dog. 

And blood. 

Geralt let go of Roach’s reigns, sprinting as best he could, letting his nose lead him. He could smell blood. He followed it into the trees, crashing through the brush, careless of the briars that tore at him. He didn’t even smell his own blood, it didn’t matter, he didn’t care. All his senses narrowed down to the smell of Jaskier’s blood and...

and his eyes saw red. a torn doublet,

Geralt lurched forward, hoping, praying that it didn’t mean what he knew it meant. He clutched the rags to him and he stumbled. His foot hit something. 

A boot. A stupid, shiny boot and it reeked of blood. Geralt let it fall from numb fingers. A tiny beam of moonlight struggled down, gleaming dully off of leather. Geralt knelt before the instrument case, smelling blood on the strap, feeling the contours of it. When he lifted it it was heavy. Jaskier had died alone on a vicious mountainside, devoid of his beautiful doublet and his lute. 

Geralt felt a puff of breath on the back of his head. Roach had followed after him, picking her way through the forest in the wake of his mad dash. He pressed his face into her mane and finally felt tears flood his cheeks. She settled beside him when he no longer had enough water to cry and he just stayed there, knelt between tree roots and bushes, cradling the lute and a scrap of doublet that still smelled like chamomile. 

He didn’t move until dawn.

When the runny light of morning came Geralt just moved on. Whatever had happened to Jaskier’s body, he couldn’t see it. Of course the bard deserved a proper burial, and Geralt cursed his weakness all the way down the mountain, but there mightn’t be much of Jaskier left to find. Geralt felt sure that if he saw his friend like that he’d simply lay down next to him and die too. 

He already felt like he might. 

Geralt moved on, physically. He moved around, slinging Jaskier’s lute up with his saddlebags. He wandered between towns and fought monsters, going north in a roundabout way. Going home. 

Kaer Morhen was going to be cold that year, it always was, and Jaskier was never there, but without the hope of Jaskier’s smile in the spring the cold seemed to have taken residence in his soul.

Geralt wasn’t eating well. He couldn’t bring himself to do more than chew a few pieces of dried meat. He drank a lot and didn’t sleep and took too many risks when fighting monsters. It was foolish, he knew, it was how witchers died, getting sloppy like that. He did it anyway. And on the rare nights he did sleep, he clutched the tattered piece of doublet. The chamomile scent was slowly fading and Geralt feared when it left entirely. It and the doublet were all he had.

In light of all of this, Geralt wasn’t that surprised when he finally lost it. He heard music in a tavern and it sounded like Jaskier. Every bard sounded like Jaskier now. There were no instruments, just an achingly familiar voice. Of course, Geralt still had the lute. 

When he walked into the tavern and saw a bard turn, saw Jaskier smile wide at him, Geralt didn’t even flinch. His medallion was still on his chest. This was no ghost, he had simply lost his mind. 

Geralt sat at the bar without looking away from the apparition, and his heart swelled as it sauntered towards him. Jaskier looked so lifelike, so alive. There wasn’t a scratch on him. He was exactly the bard Geralt remebered, no crows feet to be seen. He was dressed in blue, not unlike when they had first met. Geralt’s heart twisted as he remebered all things he’d said, and, even worse, the things he hadn’t. His heart was thundering in his ears, blood rushing, everything else tuned out. It didn’t matter that Geralt had gone crazy, Jaskier was here and so beautiful and Geralt loved him so much that it hurt. 

“Mind if I join you?” The hallucination said. Geralt just stared. He wasn’t going to talk to it, there were enough rumors about witchers without the townsfolk knowing he was crazy.

“C’mon, now, Geralt,” the faux Jaskier said. “You wouldn’t keep a man with bread in his pants waiting.” 

Geralt just stared as the bard pulled a half-eaten roll from his pocket and winked. The hallucination stopped smiling, shoulders slumping. “I’ll go,” it said. 

“Stay,” Geralt whipsered immediately. He was alright with going crazy because this last bit of comfort was so tantalizing, so real Geralt could almost reach out and touch. “Please,” he said, even quieter. “I’m sorry.” 

Jaskier beamed and sat and ate and Geralt wondered idly who the bartender served in place of the man he knew couldn’t be there. 

Geralt had thought the hallucination would be gone in the morning, but the vision of Jaskier was standing by Roach the next day, a travel bag over one shoulder. Okay, Geralt’s brain was in it for the long haul. Fine, but there had to be rules. That momentary weakness last night couldn’t happen again. He needed to get to Kaer Morhen soon if he wanted to beat the snows and there could be no distractions. So, no talking to the bard.

It was very hard not to talk to the hallucination. It traipsed and danced and prodded and teased, but when it got not even a hum in response the exhuberance dimmed. That was horrible. Geralt didn’t need the reminder that he’d hurt Jaskier’s feelings, he’d already killed him. The proof was walking right beside him.

Something in Geralt felt healed, though. It was why he didn’t try to fix this. Having Jaskier, even if it wasn’t real, was nice. He wondered what would happen if he reached out and kissed the bard. It was his hallucination after all. The thought, though, that he would reach out to Jaskier, who looked so real and alive, and feel nothing but air....Geralt would rather go through the trials again. It would be like losing Jaskier all over. 

One night, when the hallucination reached out for the instrument strung on Roach’s saddle Geralt tensed. Some part of him believed that if this shade of Jaskier was reunited with his beloved lute he’d go, dissappear and leave Geralt all alone again. He didn’t, of course. This wasn’t a spirit, Jaskier wasn’t tied to this realm by the lute. He was a figment of Geralt’s tortured mind. 

He played Toss a Coin and Her Sweet Kiss. As far as Geralt knew, Jaskier hadn’t finished the latter, but his imagination finished it anyway. It hurt to hear Jaskier singing about love unrequited, it was obviously about Yennefer but that...that wasn’t Geralt’s love. Geralt’s love had be eaten by a mountain. Red sky at dawning, Geralt had had enough of red. It didn’t put him in mind of Yennefer’s lips or of rubies or harpies or anything else, but Jaskier’s doublet, the scrap still hidden in Geralt’s bags, and some words. “See you around, Geralt”

The apparition continued to play, but Geralt turned his face away. Maybe this was torturing him for killing his only blessing. 

At the crossroads of the northern mountains Geralt paused. He had been walking besde Roach, resting her for the trek up the Killer, with Jaskier’s lute across the saddlebags and his hallucination trailing along behind. This was where Jaskier always parted from him in the autumn, and the hallucination stepped forward, reaching toward the lute on Roach’s back. Geralt felt ice down his spine. 

His hallucination was going to leave, of course it was, Geralt had never brought Jaskier to the keep, but to be there all winter without this small, fake comfort would kill him.  

Geralt wrapped his hand around the lute strap, ready to pull it from the nonexistant fingers of his dead companion. “No,” he said. 

He slung the lute over his shoulder and walked toward the Killer, praying that his failing mind wouldn’t choose now to become sane. To his relief, the hallucination followed. 

On the way to the keep the vision changed into a warmer cloak and gloves and Geralt marveled at the detail. He wondered if he wasn’t dead himself, or asleep and simply dreaming, but he kept going up the trail, hearing the crunch of Jaskier’s shiny boots on frost. The vision talked and Geralt loved its voice and cursed the sound.

Night was falling when they reached the gate of the keep, and Geralt could see three lit lanterns, one for each brother and another for Vesemir. He paused, watching the lights come closer. He drew a breath, in through his nose, smelling pine and chamomile, out through his mouth. He couldn’t let the others know. He had to pretend that the ghost of all his regrets wasn’t doggin his steps. He flexed his fingers on the strap of the lute. 

“Don’t just stand there, idiot, get in here, it’s cold,” Lambert called. Eskel smiled at Geralt and took Roach’s reigns, cooing to her as Geralt followed Vesemir and Lambert into the hall. 

The fire was lit and warmth seeped into Geralt’s numb fingers and toes. Vesemir raised an eyebrow at him.

“Aren’t you going to introduce your guest?”

“What?”

“Vesemir shook his head. “Gods almighty, Geralt, I didn’t raise you boys with much manners but I thought you had some.” Then Vesemir turned to where the vision of Jaskier stood. “You Geralt’s bard?” he asked.

“There’s no one there, Ves,” Geralt hazarded. 

Vesemir scowled at him. “Stupid prank to play on your old teacher. Never get an apprentice, lad, they’ll take your sanity and all your time.” That last part wasn’t aimed at Geralt. It was like someone had poured fire into Geralt’s veins.

“You can see him too?” he asked, quietly. 

“What game are you--” Vesemir began, but Jaskier’s eyes had gone soft with understanding.

“Oh, Geralt,” he whispered. 

Geralt stretched out one shaking hand and caressed his bard’s chilly cheek. Jaskier leaned his face into it and brushed a kiss against the palm. “I’m so sorry, dear heart,” he said, stepping closer to Geralt and wrapping his arms around his neck. “I should have known something was off.”

“You were dead,” Geralt said into the crook of his neck. “There was blood and your doublet was shredded, and you left your lute behind.” 

“You truly thought...all this time? Geralt, I thought you knew,” Jaskier said, warm breath brushing Geralt’s ear. To his surprise, Geralt was crying, tiny, bare tears and shoulders shaking. 

“Knew you were alive?”

“That too, but dearest, I’m a changeling, on the mountain I...I was so sad I just wanted to run away, and I was so tired, so I became a wolf.”

“Changeling...you’re fae?”

“Only half,” Jaskier said. “Or less, I’m not sure, but I can change into all the animal of the forest.”

“You never have.”

“It’s a painful feeling and you can’t play a lute with wings or paws but I was overwhelmed so I just...oh darling I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to think--”

“I smelled blood.”

“My boots, you told me to buy the practical ones, but I didn’t listen.”

Geralt pressed his forehead against Jaskier’s and felt the warmth of him. “You’re alive,” he said. “You’re real and you’re alive.”

“You thought all this time I was a ghost?”

“A hallucination,” Geralt said. “A good dream, or torture for killing my...”

“Killing your what, darling?” 

“Killing my love. Letting my greatest blessing be taken from my hands. I thought it was penance, my love.”

Jaskier leaned in and kissed Geralt softly. His lips were soft and perfect and too chapped to be a dream. His breath tasted like the jerky they’d eaten on the trail and it was real. When he pulled away Geralt leaned back in and kissed him again. 

“Nothing I said on the mountain was true,” he mumbled against dry lips. “Not a word. I love you more than life itself.”

“I love you too,” Jaskier said. “And I won’t leave again, not even if you tell me to.”

“I won’t,” Geralt said. “Never again.”

[henryobsessed]

The Veterinarian and the Werewolf

Word Count: 1800

Summary: The calm before the storm

A/n hello, and thanks again @sillyrabbit81 for reading and editing for me :)

Chapter 11

Henry was angry. It was truly the first time he had allowed himself to feel such anger in almost fifteen years. Everything that was happening, all the pieces coming together to paint a picture of that night, it didn’t bring healing like it should, instead, it just bought more pain. All the locked away feelings he had tried so hard to forget from the past kept coming up, especially when he saw Tom’s face. Everything in him wanted to go full wolf, ignore human laws and decimate his friend’s abusers. If he had not felt a strong need to comfort Tom, to help heal some of his wounds then he would have snuck out right there and then.

But Jessie had different ideas, even after the boys left, she insisted he stay by her side. It was as if she knew what he was thinking, knew he would be reckless. When they arrived at the house, he did a quick sniff of the perimeter before feeling secure that there were no new smells. He found Jessie in the kitchen making a coffee. What he wouldn’t give to taste the magic brew again, it had been so long since his last sip. Wondering if she would understand him, he padded over to her and bumped her leg, put his nose in the air, sniffed at the cup she had finished pouring and then yipped. For the first time in a few days she smiled, a genuine large smile. “Did you want some coffee, Henry?” He yipped again, this time emphasising it with his tongue panting.

She found a small ceramic bowl and poured some coffee into it, she picked it up and placed it on the coffee table in the living room. It was the perfect height for him to first sniff the delectable scent, then hesitantly dip his tongue in. It was perfect, she had made it smooth, bold, and milky. He turned his head to her and almost laughed at the look on her face as she watched with anticipation. “Is it ok? I can change it if you don’t like it that milky.” Her nervousness was real, and he wanted to show her how much he liked it, so instead he turned around and lapped the whole bowl up before jumping on the couch and giving her a series of long sloppy kisses on the cheek. Giggling Jessie squealed, “Henry! Stop! If that’s a yes you liked it then great. But if that’s just a reaction to the coffee then no more for you mister.” He stopped immediately not wanting the coffee to stop.

Henry curled up next to her on the couch laying his head in her lap. It was the only intimate thing that he could do whilst he was still in wolf form. He wanted her to know she was safe. Her fingers began to caress his fur, threading through massaging his skin. The tension and anger melted, all that mattered at that moment was his mate.

She softly cleared her throat, “Henry, I need to let you know about something important. Please yip if you are understanding me.” It had been a while since her voice had not made sense, another sign he hoped that he was closer to the surface. “Yip” was his reply. Her body sagged a bit. “Good, I have insisted Tom come to live here for a while until he is safe to go home. But that might be a long while. I learned something this morning and I need to tell you, but I don’t want you to overreact, ok?”

Overreact, what was she talking about? Henry listened intently a soft growl intimating he heard but was not happy. “Tom, well Tom is my secret admirer.” At that comment, Henry leapt up sitting his full height on the couch. His eyes bored into Jessies, looking to see if what she said was true and not a horrible joke. But the seriousness on her face confirmed her words. Both her hands came up and cradled his muzzle, keeping his eyes on hers as she spoke with authority. “Now listen to me Henry, I know you have been jealous and I appreciate you trying to protect me from Boyd. But you know Tom, he is sweet, caring, and young. You have nothing to be jealous of. I see him as more of a younger brother, heck even as a son. So, you have nothing to fear, I want you to continue to care for him just as you have been. He needs our love and affection right now, not more rejection. Ok?”

Not sure how he felt about it, on top of everything else, he flopped back down in her lap. Not willing yet to acknowledge what she was asking of him. She didn’t know how much it hurt to see her with another, to know outside of a dream he could not hold her. He settled enjoying her hands once again scratching behind his ear and smoothing his fur. They stayed like that until the sound of multiple footsteps sounded at the front door, Henry jumped up and ran to the door his fur heckled and a low growl sending out a warning. “Hey Jessie, Wolfy, it’s just us.” Jessie walked past him and opened the door showing a mountain of bags hiding the two boys behind.

Henry’s heckles stayed up as he watched the wall of bags shuffle into the room. It wasn’t till the bags had been placed down, and Tom’s face was shown again, that his fur smoothed down, at that moment he made his mind up. No matter how painful it was seeing someone else fawn over his mate, he would treat Tom as family. He walked up to Tom, rubbing his body up against him then gave his hand a quick lick. Tom’s hand rested on his head-scratching behind his ear. “Thanks, Wolfy. I missed you too buddy.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jessie with a soft smile on her face.

Joe stayed for dinner, the foursome enjoyed steak and veggies, with ice cream for dessert. After dinner, Joe tried to convince the party too, “Have a fashion parade.” A chorus of no’s including a growl from Henry had him lifting his hands in surrender,.“Oh, you guys are no fun. At least let us get dressed in our pj’s.” Jessie frowned at this comment, causing Joe to explain, “We thought with everything going on it might be a good idea to have a slumber party. You know an extra body in case you know who decides to turn up.” Henry was surprised at Joe’s gesture. As excitable as the boy was he was a true friend to Jessie. Jessie, he could see, was struggling and if he guessed her problem, it was accepting help. She had been independent for so long, had to be strong for herself, work everything out for herself. He could only guess if she was anything like himself that she would try to back out of this extra support.

Before she had a chance to speak, he pushed towards her, growling low making her look at him. He put as much feeling behind his eyes as he could trying harder than ever to push towards the surface. The message he wished to convey was one of “please, accept their help.”

She looked at him, her head cocked to one side before her ridged stance melted and her soft voice yielded. “As long as Dillon is ok with it, Joe that’s fine. Heaven knows this house has enough rooms to have 3 separate guests so I’m ok with you having a ‘slumber party.” Joe whooped at that and ran to ring his boyfriend.

Henry had to snigger, here she was surrounded by boys, Tom was 19, and Joe 22 they had gone and changed into PJ’s that had caused Jessie to giggle, the Pokémon images outlined on the two-piece top and pants make them look like overgrown children. Confirmed by them pulling the cushions of the chairs and creating a fort with blankets for them to sit in and eat popcorn as they watched movies. It truly was a sight to see but Henry could tell she was slightly uncomfortable with the interaction. But with his body surrounding hers, she began to relax and enjoy the constant chatter of Joe and Tom.

As the clock chimed 11pm, the party began to go quiet, and eventually, Jessie put on her boss hat. “All right boys. Time for teeth, toilet, and bed, and I want this room set to rights before you head upstairs.” Yawns and tired agreements grumbled as Henry got up and yipped to Jessie. “You need to go out Henry?” It was the first time she had addressed him with his full name in front of the others.

Joe was the only one who made any note of it as he was picking up the last cushion. “I like that name, Jessie. It suits him.” She smiled at Henry, then let him out.

When he was back inside, they locked up the doors and walked silently upstairs. She poked her head in both rooms saying the good night before moving to her own room. After looking after her own needs Jessie snuggled under the covers. Henry positioned himself so he was stretched out next to her ready to hold her in his arms he shut his eyes pleading for sleep to come fast.

Trees, trees, and more trees, the more he pushed the thicker they grew as if they were alive and deliberately holding him back. Henry began to grow angry again, how dare they stop him from seeing his mate. His anger hit a point causing him to turn into his wolf while in the dream state. This allowed him to duck under the branches until he finally broke free into the clearing. There was Jessie, patiently waiting for her man but the look of shock on her face when wolf Henry broke through into the clearing was evident.

“Henry? Are you, ok?” He looked up at her, the anger still burning hot in his eyes. She stilled for a moment then sat patting her lap in an invitation for him to join her. He passed back and forth for a moment before his heart rate began to settle, then he walked forward, and laid down beside her. His head in her lap she gently caressed his fur before he was fully calm. At that moment his desire for her pulled to the front so much so that he began to shift, she stilled as his body creaked and popped until Henry’s head laid in her lap his naked body stretched out for all to see.

Chapter 12

[narutogwriting]

Before You Go

Pairing: Sasuke Uchiha x Reader

CW: angst

Length: 3.6k+

Summary: You play it through your head. Every moment, every interaction you ever had with Sasuke before he left. Was there something you could have done? Could you have made him stay?

Inspired by: Before You Go by Lewis Capaldi

Looking at Sasuke hurt. That’s all you could think about for the longest time. To look at Sasuke was to be punched in the stomach, all the air leaving your lungs. It was like someone’s fist tearing through your chest, grabbing your heart and crushing it in their fingers. Looking at Sasuke left your entire existence battered and bruised.

You remember hearing the whispers. Adults whispered a lot, always telling each other secrets. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” That’s what they always said when you asked them what they were talking about. So much of their conversations were too hard to follow along with. You made a mental registry of all the questions you would ask when you reached this elusive “older” age.

You were nosey, of course; always wanted to hear the ins and outs of things. But the first time you remembered the whispers really catching your interest was when you were seven years old.

“It’s horrible, what happened to the Uchihas.” “I can’t believe he could do that to his own family. “Just tragic.”

Uchiha. A boy in your class had the last name Uchiha. Sasuke. He was really popular, by far the strongest kid in the academy. You never talked to him, but you always noticed how happy he would get when his big brother would come pick him up at the end of the day.

“Did something happen to Sasuke?” You asked, crawling out from underneath the table, earning a startled gasp from you aunt.

“What have I told you about eavesdropping!?” Your mother snapped at you, but she didn’t look angry like usual. She looked worried almost. With a sigh, she pat your head. “Don’t worry too much, okay. It’s nothing. Sasuke is just fine.”

It was natural for a parent to want to protect their child’s innocence. Even at your parent’s age, the Uchiha Massacre was a horrific occurrence; it was too hard for them to process; it would be even harder to try to explain it to you. Ignorantly, your parents thought that if they hid it from you, you would never have to deal with it, but of course that wasn’t true. People talked and word got around. It only took one or two kids in the academy finding out some details for the story to grow and spread.

Sasuske wasn’t at the academy for a month after you heard your parents and aunt whispering about his family, but the next day at school, word was already beginning to get around. Sasuke’s older brother, the one he’d adored so dearly, that he’d smiled so happily at every day, had murdered his whole family, leaving only Sasuke alive.

It would have been better to hear it from your parents, the toned down, soft version of the appalling act as they tried to explain to you for the first time that the world could be a cruel place. But instead, you had to listen in horror while your classmates gossiped, lied, and exaggerated the whole thing, discussing the most traumatizing moment of Sasuke’s life as if it was a new movie playing in the cinema. You’d gone home crying almost every day that week.

When Sasuke finally did come back, he talked to no one, and no one talked to him. He kept to himself, arms crossed and a blank, cold stare on his face that would soon become his signature. You couldn’t believe that such a beautiful smile had ever crossed those icy features.

“Stay away from Sasuke.” Your mom whispered as she walked you home from the academy. When you questioned why, she’d simply shushed you. “Do what I say.”

Parents always know best. That’s all you know when you’re seven years old. They always do and say the right thing, and you always listen because you never have a reason not to. Your mom told you not to talk to Sasuke, so of course you wouldn’t because there must be a good reason not to.

You never told your mother that it was this very command that later shattered your innocence; the first moment when you realized that your mom was not always right.

It wasn’t immediate. You never really talked to Sasuke in the first place, so it was nothing new to ignore him now. But now that you’d been told not too, of course everything in you wanted to go say hello to him.

There is a theory of development that categorizes the age of seven as industry vs inferiority. It’s the first time you’re independently integrating into society and trying to figure out your place. The major question of children this age is “How can I be good or bad?”

And you were no different. This appeared in a lot of ways. When you struggled to hit the target with a kunai, you felt like a failure. When you were corrected by your parents, it felt like criticism and hit you to your core.

But you were moving further than your peers. You didn’t just wonder if you were good or bad based on your skills; you wondered if it made you bad to ignore a person that everyone else seemed to be purposefully isolating as well.

Can I be a good person if I let another person feel miserable?

Sasuke had lost everything, was living on his own in the place his family had been murdered in front of his eyes. Even you could understand that that must be traumatizing. Of course he was angry and cold and closed off. How could anyone fault him for that?

It started slow. “Hi, Sasuke.” You would greet him every day when you got to class. It took him off guard the first couple of times. Once he got used to it, he just “hn’d” in response, but that was okay with you.

Then you started asking him if he wanted to sit with you at lunch, offered him an extra dessert that you would sneak into your pack just for him.

He always told you no, so you would leave him alone and just offer again the next day. Not to be annoying; just to let him know that you were there.

Things changed a few weeks after Sasuke had come back to the academy. You were still saying hi and being ignored, and a few kids had begun to slowly start trying to interact with Sasuke in response. You never really saw him outside of the academy except for this one day you were out with your mom running errands.

You’d never considered how he got food or supplies he needed. You didn’t know where he got the money, but there Sasuke was at the market just like you were. You watched from your mom’s side as he walked up to a fruit stand where there was a group of people examining the different produce. Sasuke reached past someone, grabbing an amaou to put in his bag.

The person next to Sasuke glanced down absentmindedly, but you saw the way their eyes widened as they settled on him, realizing who he was.

“Oh shit,” the guy muttered, dropping his fruit and hurrying away from the stand. One by one, every other person around did the same, looking at Sasuke with an expression of shock or discomfort before speeding off.

You couldn’t see Sasuke’s face from where you were, only his back, but you could see the way his shoulder tightened. He froze completely before his body began to tremble just slightly. Sasuke’s fingers tightened and the fruit was crushed beneath his fingers. He dropped the pulp and the bag with all the other fruit he’d been planning on getting and in a moment, he was gone.

It was the first time you could remember hearing a heart shatter. You just weren’t sure if it was his or yours.

Your mom’s attention was elsewhere, so you took the opportunity to sneak over to the fruit stand, grabbing the bag Sasuke had dropped, examining the produce inside. When back at your mother’s side, you grabbed her hand. “Mom, can I get some fruit?”

Later, you snuck the fruit bag from your kitchen, slinging it over your arm as you walked around the village. You finally found Sasuke sitting under a tree on the outskirts of town. He had his back to the trunk, arms crossed as he stared off. He didn’t look at you, didn’t acknowledge your presence as you approached, but he didn’t tell you to leave, either.

So you slipped down next to him, leaning against the trunk and placing the bag of fruit silently between the two of you as you crossed your legs. With nothing else to do, you began to pick the flowers in the grass, weaving their stems together until you had a small bracelet formed.

What came over you, you weren’t sure. But confidently, you turned to Sasuke where he still sat, staring off with his arms crossed. You reached out, gently taking his arm and untangling it from the other. To your surprise, he didn’t fight you, so you took his hand, sliding the flower bracelet around his wrist.

When you looked up at him, you found that he was already staring at you. He wasn’t smiling, but for the first time in weeks, he wasn’t frowning either.

~

You hated him. You hated Sasuke Uchiha! After everything, the past five years that you had spent together… Had it all meant nothing!?

It was a blow straight to your heart hearing the words when you had come home. “Sasuke has defected from the village.” Sasuke had left to train with Orochimaru, all for his revenge. He hadn’t been kidnapped or forced to go; he left willingly. Just like that. One day he was there, and the next he was gone.

You hadn’t even had the change to go on the retrieval mission. You just had to have gone out of town that day. He’d already been gone for days by the time that you were home. Naruto was the last person that got to see Sasuke before he disappeared; maybe forever.

Even thinking the words had you in hysterics. You sobbed violently into your pillow, the sounds being ripped from your throat. You sobbed so hard your body shook. Your cries were so vicious that you began to vomit, not even able to make it to the trashcan.

That’s where your mother found you hours after you heard. “I told you to stay away from him…” Your mom tsk’d softly.

You would never forgive him.

~

Was there something you could have said or done? You thought you’d been a good friend to Sasuke. You’d always tried to be there, listen in those rare moments that he wanted to talk to you. Ever since you’d given him the bracelet…

That moment was so pivotal in your friendship. Not just that you’d given the gift, but that Sasuke had accepted it. It was the moment that your one sided pursuit of Sasuke had become mutual; the two of you were now friends.

And it wasn’t a normal type of friendship really like your other relationships were. This one was quieter, built around so much that was unsaid, only felt. In Sasuke’s loneliness, you were there standing by and sitting next to him through it all.

You couldn’t take away Sasuke’s pain or hurt, but you could walk with him through it.

Or at least, that’s what you had thought. It’d been stupid. You actually believed that you could help Sasuke, make him feel better when he’d experienced the most appalling sort of loss. Maybe that belief had only made Sasuke feel even more lonely.

Did you ever understand at all? No, you hadn’t, and you knew it. You’d tried your best, done everything you could, but you were just a kid too, and you’d never experienced anything like Sasuke had. How could you have known what to say to make it better?

Despite this, the guilt that you felt was consuming, taking up every part of you. You felt as if you’d drown in it, felt the way it filled your lungs until you couldn’t breathe.

You’d been in denial when you heard the news, felt the anger when the retrieval squad had failed. In the weeks that followed Sasuke’s defect, you’d switched between the two stages almost constantly.

Now, finally, you’d moved onto bargaining.

If Sasuke just comes back… If he just came home, you would be better! Whatever he needed, whatever he wanted, you’d give it to him! Somehow you’d have the right words this time. You would tell him exactly what hear to make it all stop hurting. Whatever it took…

And you bargained hard. You bargained and bartered and you petitioned and you pleaded. You begged whatever god that was listening, tried to sell your soul to the devil, if only, if only it would bring Sasuke back!

But if god existed, he wasn’t listening and the devil had no use for a spirit like yours. You were alone, screaming to the sky.

~

“Sasuke! You’re awake! I was just gonna stop by to see you.”

Sasuke could see that you were in a rush even if you didn’t say it. You were dressed, running your fingers through your hair to throw it up into a bun. There was a dumpling hanging delicately from between your teeth, signaling your quick breakfast you were trying to take on the go.

At this point, Sasuke knew you well.

It wasn’t often Sasuke came to you when he was struggling, at least not outright. There were plenty of times he’d sought your presence to simply suffer in silence, but at least he wasn’t suffering by himself.

This time, he didn’t want to suffer silently. Not right now at least. He’d been thinking hard, struggling all week since Itachi had put him under the Tsukuyomi. Tsunade had been able to bring him back from his comatose state, but hadn’t been able to mend what Itachi had broken and bent in his mind for the second time.

You wouldn’t find out til later, but Sasuke had come straight from the hospital not after waking up, but after challenging Naruto to a fight. Kakashi had broken the two up just before they’d about blown their arms off.

Naruto was surpassing him. That much was so clear, so obvious to him now, but no one wanted to admit it. If even Naruto, the worst of the worst in the academy was getting better than him, at this rate, how would he ever be strong enough to kill Itachi?

Kakashi had lectured him heavily about losing the friends he had left in his mourning of the family that was long gone. It was what Sasuke had wanted to talk to you about. Somehow, he knew Kakashi was right, but when he’d spent the last five years thinking of getting revenge on Itachi, he didn’t know how to reconcile what Kakashi was telling him.

“Stop by? Are you going somewhere?” Sasuke asked the obvious as you finally fixed your hair. You grabbed the dumpling, taking a bite as you nodded.

“To see my aunt,” You said through a mouth full of food. “In the village of the hidden rain.” You tilted your head, peering at him curiously. “Everything okay?”

Sasuke considered the question. You were going out of town, would be gone for a few days at least no doubt. Now probably wasn’t the best time to bring this up, but he wasn’t sure if it could wait until you got back.

As he began to respond, your attention was taken by your dad yelling from inside the house. “Finish packing your bag so we can go!”

You glanced behind you back into the house, rolling your eyes with a sigh. “Hold up!” You snapped before turning your gaze back to Sasuke. “Sorry about that. We’re running behind now, not that it’s my fault.” You gave a small laugh.

Sasuke knew he could have pushed it, and you would have dropped everything to listen to him. Your parents be damned. It’d just been a moment you were distracted from him because of your dad yelling. But now, suddenly, the words left Sasuke. He had nothing to say.

“It’s fine. I just wanted to stop by since they discharged me.” He lied easily, the words slipping off his tongue without dilemma. Even so, you usually would have picked up on it. You would have known that something was off, and you needed to pry.

It was just one time, one moment where you didn’t push him. You were in a rush, afterall, and you’d be back in a couple of days.

It was only hours after you left that the Sound Four had appeared to Sasuke, and minutes after, he was gone.

That moment would replay in your mind constantly in your mind, on repeat until it drove you insane.

You should have noticed. You should have noticed. You should have noticed.

You should have stayed.

~

Time heals nothing, but it gives you more things to worry about. You never thought it’d be possible, but Sasuke was no longer on the forefront of your mind at every moment. Every day, sure, but you were able to function in society, get stronger and attend to your duties.

You were no longer drowning in the sorrow of missing Sasuke, though that was where you’d been for so long you never thought you’d escaped. But finally, you’d hit the last stage of grief.

Acceptance. Sasuke was gone and there was nothing you could do.

You could have lived out the rest of your life in that acceptance, pushed the dull, ever present pain aside and pretend it wasn’t there, but you couldn’t do that. Naruto Uzumaki wouldn’t let you.

Hope was alive and well in Naruto’s heart and thus he stirred it in yours. “I’m gonna bring Sasuke back. Just you watch.” He’d grin at you.

You didn’t know where in the stages grief you were now, but you believed Naruto. He’d get Sasuke home even if you couldn’t.

You wished he never gave you that hope.

Kiba had picked up Sasuke’s scent. You were almost there. Almost to Sasuke…

That was when the orange masked Akatsuki member intercepted your team, keeping you from reaching Sasuke. You were desperate, feral almost as you attacked the man. To move him, killl him, it didn’t matter to you. You just needed to get past him, to get to Sasuke!

Another Akatsuki member appeared then, taking the attention from the masked man. You were about to make a break for it, but that’s when you heard him.

“Itachi is dead.”

The words settled on you, blood rushing to you ears and drowning out everything else. That was what Sasuke had always wanted; he’d finally done it. He’d killed Itachi, gotten his revenge. This should be a good thing.

You couldn’t explain it, but something was settling in your gut, a horrible, nauseating feeling that this was wrong. This wasn’t how things should have ended. Despite everything you knew and believed, you suddenly had the certainty that Itachi wasn’t the heartless monster everyone had believed he was.

Was it intuition, coincidence, or some unexplained connection you had to Sasuke? Glancing at Naruto, you could see he felt it too.

None of you noticed the masked man had disappeared. You followed Kiba as quick as your feet could carry you to where he tracked Sasuke’s scent, but by the time you got there, it was too late. He was gone.

“This is as far as I can smell him… We lost him.” Kiba told the team reluctantly.

You dropped to your knees, hand clutching desperately at your chest. You couldn’t breathe. It hurt; it hurt so fucking much you were sure you would die. The pain in your heart seized every part of you, knocking the air from your lungs and causing you to convulse.

Dropping to the floor, you began to sob. Those heart broken, anguished cries you thought you ran out of years ago.

“Sasuke…”

How you knew, you couldn’t be sure. But it wasn’t your own pain you were feeling. It was Sasuke’s tears that flowed down your cheeks and his aching regret that filled your heart. Where was he? You wanted nothing more than to be there with him now, to wrap him up in your arms and never let him go.

The team winced as you weeped so brokenly, the sound shattering their hearts.

You’d never understood, not really. As much as you wanted to, despite your best attempts, you never could grasp the layers of Sasuke’s pain. If only you’d been able to. If only you knew the storm that was building inside of him, leaving him restless and agitated, desperate for the carnage to end. You wish you knew that he couldn’t stand it, the way that every beat of his heart left him in pure agony.

Was there a way you could have made his heart beat better?

Every night, you saw Sasuke in your dreams, his back to you as he left. You lived it over and over and over again.

”Sasuke,” You called for the first time, watching him pause, but not turning to look at you. “Before you go… Was there something I could have said or done? To make it all stop hurting?” You waited for an answer that never came. Sasuke stood there for a few more moments before he walked away, disappearing into darkness.

You guessed you would never know.

[snelbz]

I'll Be Seeing You {6}

Nesta x Cassian, 1940′s AU

Collaboration with @tacmc.

Summary: After Cassian gets injured in the war, he’s taken to a war camp to be cared for until he gains enough strength to return to his battalion. While he’s there, he falls for a nurse that couldn’t care less about his title and doesn’t put up with his bullshit. Once he’s healed and the years pass by, he finds that there’s only one thing he wants to remember from the war, and she’s only a letter away.

Trigger Warnings: war

Chapters will be posted every Monday.

Word Count: 1696

IBSY Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

Nesta had no idea what had happened.

She was shaken awake in the middle of the night by one of the night nurses, quickly hurrying her out of the tent she shared with a few other nurses in hushed tones. She pulled her robe around her tighter, the nightgown she wore was perfectly fine with the warm fire crackling in the hearth, but in the crisp autumn air, it left her shivering.

As did the reason she’d been awakened in the middle of the night. One of her patients she’d been solely residing over had taken an unexpected turn at some point in the evening. Infection. Fever.

She felt shaky and hollow as she pushed through the tent flaps. She knew it made her a horrible person, but she couldn’t help but pray it was anyone except—

There were two nurses hovering beside Cassian’s cot and she thought she was going to be physically sick.

“What’s happened?” Nesta asked as she approached. It had been meant to have been firm, direct, but it came out shaky.

“He was sleeping peacefully, but then he started to stir and groan,” Claire explained. “When I came over he was drenched in sweat. I checked the gunshot wounds on his back and the burns. There were no bandages. I’m not sure how he had gotten them off—.”

A ringing in Nesta’s ears drowned out the rest of Claire’s words, but it didn’t matter what the nurse said, Nesta knew the cause of Cassian’s downfall.

It had been her.

She had been cleaning his wounds when the soldier had been rushed in earlier that morning, had left Cassian to help. When the soldier had died, Madja had ordered Nesta to go clean up and she had left the tent…

It had all happened so fast.

She had lost a life, and it distracted her from her thoughts, her further duties.

She had never gone back to finish cleaning and bandaging his wounds.

And, of course, Cassian had said nothing.

“I didn’t know what to—.”

Nesta cut Claire off, shaking her head to try and clear her thoughts. She knew she was to blame, but wouldn’t alert Claire to that knowledge. “He needs a dose of penicillin, maybe two, depending on how far the infection has spread.”

Claire nodded, the other two nurses having moved on to check on other patients, most of whom slept peacefully. When she kept standing there, nodding, Nesta snapped, “Now, please.”

She blinked and was off, hurrying to the medical cabinet in the center of the tent.

Leaning down over his bed, Nesta placed a hand on either side of his face. “Cassian?”

His skin was hot, clammy and he was covered in sweat. She swore quietly. He felt like he’d been lying in front of a furnace for a few hours.

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t rise to consciousness.

Claire returned, a syringe in one hand and a glass bottle in the other. Nesta took it, surprised by how steady her hands were. She felt as if they should be as shaky as her breathing had become, but she quickly and efficiently administered the dose, holding a small piece of gauze over his arm where she’d stuck him.

“Should I… Would you like to go back to bed?” Claire asked. “I can watch him while I make my rounds.”

Nesta shook her head as she sat down in the chair next to the cot. “No, I— I need to stay with him.”

Claire hesitated, but nodded and excused herself.

Nesta would wait with him, would keep him company, because it was all her fault.

She told herself that was the only reason, but as she reached up to brush his damp hair back, she knew she was only fooling herself.

But fool herself, she would.

This was war. He was a soldier. Aside from being completely inappropriate, considering she was his nurse, one should never get involved with a soldier.

It often only led to heartbreak.

His face was flushed, even though his lips were bloodless, and he looked so…frail. Even when he’d first been brought in, bloody and burned, he hadn’t looked so helpless. Nesta couldn’t look away from him.

She knew no one else was around, knew the other nurses may have been nosy and curious, but they would give Nesta this privacy. And because of that she reached out and took his hand, gently holding it in hers.

Was it really just earlier in the day that he’d held her hand after coming to check on her after that poor soldier had passed? The thought, that he considered her feelings more important than his own healing, had her fingers tightening around his.

I could see myself loving a woman like you.

She tried not to think about the thrill his words sent through her, then or now. It was highly inappropriate, especially considering they barely knew each other. But there was just…something about him. She reached out with her free hand and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. Still clammy. Still burning up.

Again, his eyelids shifted, but they didn’t open. The penicillin would keep him down for a while.

She wouldn’t be sleeping, though. Not any time soon.

With a defeated sigh, Nesta took the book off of the small table by Cassian’s cot. He had read a little more that afternoon, it had seemed. He was nearing chapter six, and Nesta couldn’t wait to see his reaction to the coming chapters.

Especially in regards to his beloved Daisy.

She opened to the page he was on and took out the leather strap that marked it. It was old and worn, and she found herself wondering how long he’d had it, how long it had held his hair back. She wondered how long he’d had long hair. She assumed always. It was hard to imagine him with short hair.

It just wouldn’t look right.

He stirred on the cot before her, and Nesta’s eyes jerked up to him, but he still didn’t wake. She watched him for another moment, making sure he was sleeping peacefully, then looked back down at the scrap of leather in her hand.

It occurred to her how little she knew about him then. She knew about his mother and lack of a father, but he’d mentioned brothers. Were they blood or was it more in a camaraderie sort of way? And who were they? Did he love them the way she loved her own sisters?

Perhaps she had been selfish thus far, in asking so little about him. Usually the man never shut up, was always making sarcastic remarks with his raunchy humor, and now as he lay unconscious, she wanted him to speak.

She wanted to ask him questions.

He mentioned Velaris, but Nesta had only been there once as a child and didn’t remember much from it. She wanted to ask him about it, ask him what it was like growing up in the famous City of Starlight.

She wanted to ask about those brothers of his, if he had any other siblings, and how his mother, who had never married, survived it, living in the world that they did.

She wanted to ask if he’d ever had any pets, what his favorite subject was in school, if he’d ever broken a bone or climbed a tree for fun or been in an airplane.

She wanted to know where this scrap of leather came from that she had been fiddling in between her fingers for far too long.

Eventually, she rested her head against her own arm, still holding onto his fingers in one hand and clutching that strap of leather in the other. It didn’t take long before she was asleep herself.

A few hours later, a firm hand on her shoulder had her jolting awake. She sat up quickly, finding Madja standing behind her.

Standing, she cleared her throat, releasing Cassian’s hand, still holding onto that piece of leather. “Madja, I—.”

A gentle smile was on the old healer's face. “You should get changed, Nesta.”

Glancing down at her open robe and nightgown, Nesta blushed and nodded, before replacing the strap of leather in the book she’d leant to him.

The sun was up, but the chill in the air told her it hadn’t been for long. She hurried across the camp to the tent she shared with a few other nurses. Quickly changing, she tied a fresh apron around her waist and was surprised to find Madja standing outside the tent as she emerged, still braiding her hair back.

“Walk with me,” she said, and took off, not waiting to see if she followed.

Nesta couldn’t help but feel like she was a child about to be scolded.

“There is no rule stating you can’t have feelings for your patient, Nesta,” she said, glancing over at her.

Nesta blinked, not expecting her to be so blunt. She immediately went on the defensive. “I don’t have—.”

Madja gave her a look that told her the woman knew she was full of shit. She went on. “This isn’t a formal job. There is no rule book saying you can’t fraternize with others. He’s very handsome, and it’s clear he’s taken quite a shine to you. But remember where we are, what we’re doing. Why we’re here.”

Nesta nodded, hesitantly.

She knew.

The soldiers came in, they healed, and they left, went back to war.

And that’s exactly what Cassian would do, Nesta was fully aware of that fact. There was no romance, there was no happily ever after, not when it came to war.

“I just want you to be careful,” Madja continued, her voice gentle. “I have seen young women, time and time again, fall for men who did not come home. It is okay to feel for another, my dear, but you must remember the risks.”

The risks. It was a long list.

“I was not planning on anything happening between myself and the Major,” Nesta said, at last.

Madja’s smile was soft. “That’s always when it happens, Nesta. When no plans are made.”

[cinnamonrusts]

i’ll see you in the village -- 3

parts: 1 2

Chris closes in on your location and he prays to see that you’re alive and well. However, you’re on the opposite side of the secluded village and come face to face with the big honcho herself, plus some of her troublesome “children”. (chris redfield x f!reader)

                                                    ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

Chris's heart pounded in his chest as the squad’s van got closer and closer to the blip on the laptop’s map. He hoped that you would be okay - maybe staying in a home or met a friendly local... Your smile was all he could picture when he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in to calm down. However, when he opened them, the van veered off away from the main road where the rinky-dink cottages were scattered about and headed into the woods. “Where are you going?” he asked as he leaned into the cab. Night Howl was behind the wheel, “Following the ping, sir.” Chris swallowed hard, if you were alone in these dark woods -- something could’ve went wrong.

The vehicle bounced around on the uneven ground and Chris held on to the back of the seat to keep himself upright. His eyes never moved from the windshield and his keen senses were on alert for any sign of you. Lobo spoke up just as the ping reached its loudest pitch, “Says we’re here.” Chris opened the door with one quick yank and he jumped out of the van. He pulled out his flashlight and his gun from his belt as he observed his surroundings. The area was as quiet as death and there were no signs that you even there. Chris walked around the area for quite sometime as his team watched him from within the vehicle, they exchanged brief words in regard to if they should help or stop him. But decided to let him do this unless he was met with danger.

His desperation reached an all time high and he started to shout your name into the dark. “[Y/N]!” Chris continued to walk and shout until his boot kicked something that was laying on the road. He kneeled down and shined his flashlight at the item that caught his attention. Chris picked it up and realized that the crumbled pile in his palm was once a cell phone. Technology seemed to stay at a standstill in this area and was mostly untouched by the outside world -- so why was there a cellphone here? The only explanation was that it was your phone. His tired faced drained itself of color and his heartbeat quickened to an unmeasurable rate. He was silent but his mind was loud. If anything were to happen to you, he would tear this entire place apart and tear through anyone just to get to you. His fist closed around the broken phone and crushed it more. As he came to a stand, he breathed out through his nostrils loudly and let the plastic crumble from his fingers.

Lobo stepped out from the van to approach Chris with concern, “Everything alright, Alpha?” Redfield’s eyes were fixated on the trees before him and he was silent - not even a twinge in his face, he was blank. “They took her,” he finally spoke after an awkward amount of silence. His head turned toward Lobo, “I’m gonna get her back.” Lobo nodded, “But Alpha, don’t forget about the main objective... with Winters.” Chris grit his teeth before he barked, “YOU DON’T THINK I KNOW THAT?!” He instantly felt regret and apologized for his outburst. His team was completely faithful to the man and followed him to the ends of the Earth. But, he was scared to lose anyone else... he’s lost too much already and if he lost you... he was unsure if he could handle that. Lobo patted his shoulder a couple times, “Don’t worry, Alpha. We got your back and we’ll find [Y/N].”

                                                    ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

The Duke listened to your story intently and when you finished, he erupted in laughter. Your face crinkled in surprise at his reaction, “Did I say something -- funny?” you ask, offended. The Duke continued to chuckle before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “If you’re going to tell me a tale, my lady, at least make it believable.” You scoff and thought briefly about how good you thought your story was but -- it didn’t fool this large man that sat before you. “Now, why don’t we start again, American?” The jig was up and you might as well just tell the truth. “How could you tell?” you ask and he chuckled once more. “Gypsies haven’t been around this area for nearly fifty years! And also, you lack of an accent from the area you claim to be from... it is rather funny, if you ask me!”

Your ego felt somewhat hurt by this stranger but that was besides the point. If he could easily see through your ruse, then maybe so would Miranda... “So...” you start to say before the wagon got slammed into from the side. You tumble around inside the cart as it flipped several times before it landed upside down. The Duke had been separated from you as the back part of the wagon broke free from the front part he was in, and the horse carried him away to safety but left you behind

.

You groan loudly as you roll to your side and try to push yourself up but couldn’t because of an excruciating pain in your leg. It is hard to focus because of the trauma that your head had taken from the crash plus the trip down the hill earlier. Once your vision cleared, you could see a rather large piece of wood protruding from your upper thigh. “Shit!” you curse as your shaky hands hesitated to pull it out. But it was too painful to even touch and your training kicked in, if you took it out, you would more than likely bleed out due to where it was located and you were far from help.

Loud noises shuffled around from outside of the wagon and you began to panic. Your hands shuffled through the broken pieces of wood that were scattered around in an attempt to find your pistol. The curtain at the back of the wagon lifted slowly just as you found your weapon, and you proceeded to shoot a warning shot. The curtain dropped and it was silent for a moment but your aim was still up. Suddenly, a large, black root slinked up under the curtain and yanked you out from your cover. You screamed loudly and desperately tried to aim for something to shoot at but you found yourself being held upside down. Stupidly, you emptied your clip into the air as you hoped it would hit the root. 

✧.*

A woman stepped out from the shadows to slap your pistol out of your hand and you instantly recognized her face once she stepped into the moonlight. Her blonde hair and attractive features... they-they matched Mother Miranda! It was Miranda! Shit. Now you were deep in it... You followed the root that had a tight grip around your ankle up to the hem of her dress. It was apparent that she had abilities similar to that of the mold and BOWs, even better. “There was word of a rat in our nest,” she hissed, her voice feminine and powerful. Miranda’s stare was cold as she walked closer to you; her face closes in on yours and you could feel her warm breath on your sweat stained skin. “And the snakes don’t care much for rats. American agent rats to be exact.”

The root lifted you higher into the air and you were dangled above her head. Miranda looked up to you, “I think I will let the others help me decide what to do with you.” she smiled before the root slammed you down into the ground and your vision faded black.

Miranda lifted you from the ground and held your unconscious body in her arms. Black feathers spread from her back and wrapped around the two of you, then disappeared in a swirl of black.

✧.*

An unknown amount of time passed before you came to. The sound of a few people talking caused you to stir, their loud voices rang in your ear and irritated the horrible headache you had. “I say we strip her down, cover her in honey, and throw her to the rats! A rat for a rat!” a man’s voice boomed with excitement and it was the first sentence you could make out while coming to. “Let me have her! She’ll be turned into the finest of wine!” a woman’s voice that was not Miranda’s yelled over the man’s.

When your eyes opened fully, three faces turned toward you. “Well, well, good morning, sleepy head!” the male grinned and lowered his sunglasses to get a better look at you. A dark haired woman across from him stood from her chair and her insane height towered over you, “She looks healthy and plump enough to craft an excellent bottle.” The man stood from his chair and pushed her a bit, “You always want to turn the women into wine. Boring!” 

The two of them began to bicker back and forth for several minutes until one of Miranda’s roots grabbed hold of your throat and reeled you in. “You two can fight over the child’s father. She - she will be mine to toy with, I’ve made up my mind,” the leader smiled a menacing grin which caused your blood to run cold. Inside you hoped that Chris would punch  through the door and save you from your predicament, but that chance was slim to none. “Begone my children, I have work to do.” They obeyed her wishes and left.

  ✧.*

She wrapped her wings around you once again and kept you restrained while she forced you into her laboratory that was beneath the village’s grounds. “I could kill you but that would be a waste.” she spoke as she strapped you to a table in the middle of the room. You wiggled violently as you tried to free yourself from your imprisonment but cried in pain at the open wound in your leg. “A strong American agent like yourself could be an interesting addition to our family... think of it as an eye for an eye.” she walked away to a shelf and reached for a large glass jar which had a sort of creature inside. “You’ll be the first outsider to receive a Cadou implant. And I am oh so curious to see how you adapt...” She reached into the jar, pulled out the pulsating parasite, and slowly approached you. 

Screams escaped your mouth as you thrashed around in another attempt to break loose but your restraints were so tight that they dug into your flesh. Miranda pushed your head down with force and pressed her palm into your forehead. The “Cadou” writhed around and long tentacles sprouted from within its fleshy mass and grabbed onto either side of your chest . Your last breath was a shriek of terror as it attached itself to your body and burrowed into your torso.

[tedisnotdead]

The water flow stopped, and Andrew sighed, picking up the towel. He looked at himself in the mirror, his eyes scanning across the plain chest and stopping before his view reached his elbows.

"Andrew?" a voice called from the other side of the door, startling him. Andrew took a quick breath, closing his eyes before sighing, reminding himself of where he was. Renee's bathroom. Allison was downstairs, probably preparing baby Seth to stand in the crowd with her. "Nicky just left me your clothes. Do you want me to leave them in the spare room for you?"

"Yess." Andrew replied, looking down and pulling his boxers on. "I'll be out in a second." He reached for the armbands, pulling them on and tucking his thumb into the holes before walking out.

Betsy, Nicky and Erik were changing at home. They didn't need the preparation like the twins did, they wouldn't get picked. Jesse was safe too, wrapped up between his dads but next year he wouldn't. Next year he would be up there, and Andrew couldn't save him. Andrew had already felt the guilt of the six years he missed protecting his cousin and the four years he missed with his brother.

When they were united two years ago, it was a shock to everyone around them. Andrew had been in Betsy's care his entire life before then, with help from Renee for a few years during his more rebellious phase. When Renee started her fighting lessons twelve years ago, he was one of the firsts to sign up. Eight years after Andrew signed up, another Andrew signed up. Renee knew it wasn't him. And she mentioned it to Betsy, who connected the fourteen-year olds and since took them both in, alongside their cousin. A year later, Nicky introduced his boyfriend and his son to the family, and they were welcomed with open arms.

Betsy took two-week-old Andrew in from the day she saw him left on the side of the work field, wrapped in only a blanket. She took him home, where eight-year-old Renee was waiting. She hadn't been ditched like Andrew, she has been unfortunately orphaned by a factory malfunction and lost her mother at only six.  

Renee and Andrew grew up alongside each other, but when she left for the games at age thirteen, they knew they would never be the same. Renee came back a victor, that's when she started her fighting lessons. Betsy advised against it but saw her development and let her work. When Andrew questioned her why she let her fight after she had won, Betsy reminded him Renee had won for a reason.

That's when he met Wymack. David Wymack, the winner of the forty-third Hunger Games. David Wymack, the man who relied on the pain of tattoos to give him a mental escape from the pain that the Games had caused him. The same David Wymack who took Jean Moreau out of Betsy's care less than a week after she took him in.  

"Just because Jean was taken in by the Wymacks, it doesn't mean that you're not wanted." Betsy would always say. She would say the same thing every time she took one kid into her home and then they were taken in by a family a few days after. "You are just as valid. You are just as special. You just need to wait for your special time to shine."

Eight years passed and Aaron appeared. They united, Nicky was introduced, and Betsy took them all in. Betsy introduced them to Wymack, who introduced them to his kids and the Boyds. Befriending the entire of the Victors Village was a kick in the guts to Andrew. A reminder how he wasn't special, how he was basically nothing in comparison to some people.

Jean remembered him though. Jean made him feel special way. Not a romantic or sexual thing. Andrew knew those. Well, he knew sexual. He knew from all the hook-ups behind the factories, he knew from the nights he stayed at Roland's, a classmate in Renee's fighting class, and experimented with things. He knew from the start he was gay, but never said it out loud. He wasn't too confident when it came to romantic feelings however, but he had an idea.  

Jean Moreau-Wymack was his first and only friend. Renee accepted this, seeing how they're bond was more sibling like than friends. Jean joined him on the tree searched. Andrew taught him to climb quick, how to spot the nests quickly, how to remove both wasp and birds safely. In return, Jean baked him sweet goods. The banana breads and cakes and muffins rolled through the door daily, Jean delivering them every morning with a small smile. Occasionally, Jean would bake with exotic flavors that David Wymack brought back from his annual visits to the Capitol.

With all the time Andrew had started spending Jean, Aaron began spending it with the other child in the Wymack household. Kevin Wymack-Day. David's biological child from a woman he didn't meet again after their one-night stand.

When Kayleigh, Kevin's mother, passed Kevin had been put in the custody of David. Jean, Kayleigh's other child, had been given to Betsy to be cared for. David hunted him down and took him in, not having the heart to separate the kids.

Aaron and Kevin clicked the second they met. Both being insufferable, obsessive assholes in Andrew's opinion (and Jean's, but that was one of the secrets between the two that were shared in the tops of trees over a muffin each). Aaron's obsession laying in the profession of David's wife, Abby Wymack. One of the best doctors in District 7. Since Aaron became closer with her, he became more obsessed over the profession and soon, if he survived the final reaping, would become her apprentice. Kevin's obsession laid in a Capitol sport, Exy. Whenever his father visited the Capitol for the games, he would bring back his son merchandise of his favorite teams. David had a friend in the Capitol who recorded every game so he could take them home and Kevin could watch them.

Andrew reached the spare room and froze before remembering where he was. Renee's house. Aaron was at the Wymacks', using their shower like Andrew was using Renee's. He knew the only reason was to see Kevin, and 'secretly' say goodbye and good luck in their own special way.

Their attraction to each other was not unknown, practically everyone knew. But it was obvious they were waiting until Aaron's last reaping, until today, to make anything exclusive. As long as they snuck out of the Victors Village before anyone began to head to the town center, no one would notice the luxurious treatment the twins were getting.

The clothes were spread out, waiting on the spare room bed. Nicky's old black, short sleeved button up shirt and a pair of Erik's old, tight fit, wash jeans. A pair of old boots that Betsy had managed to afford where on the floor, with a pair of Allison's bright pink socks laying neatly in the neck of the boot.  

"You'll need to be ready in a few minutes Andrew." Renee's voice filtered through the door again. "The ceremony starts in an hour. People begin to move soon." Her footsteps echoed down the corridor as she left and Andrew looked at the clothes, sighing.

◒◓◒◓◒

Andrew stepped out, seeing Kevin and Aaron talking through a gap in the curtains. He sat back, waiting silently and watched them argue.  

"They're horrible." Jean mumbled, sitting next to Andrew on the wall, leaving a large enough space for Capitol's largest man to sit between them. "Kevin kicked me out so I couldn't hear. I think they're talking about their latest hook-up." He took a bite from a muffin, leaving one on the wall beside Andrew. "It was at ours while we were climbing. I think they think we're fucking."

"How disappointed will they be when they find out we don't fuck; we talk shit about them and stuff our faces with shit." Andrew mumbled and Jean giggled, taking another bite. "Truth for a truth?" Jean nodded. "I'm nervous."

"That's well justified." Jean said. "Your name is at the highest chance it's ever been, and ever will be. But some people do sadly have their names in there more than you. So, the chance it being you is low. And the chance it's Aaron is even lower, since your name is still in there from the past years of tesserae. "Jean sighed. "I'm gay. I think." Jean mumbled before looking over.

"Want another round?" Andrew asked and Jean stopped before nodding. He took another bite of his muffin, looking forward again. "I'm gay too." Andrew said, picking his muffin up. "I've known for a few years."

"I have a crush on Jeremy." Jean said. Andrew turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "The baker's son. I used to talk to him a lot when I lived with Kayleigh. She would let me pick up her weekly orders from the bakery and I would pay them with grain and milk. I used to talk to Jeremy every Sunday, and that's why I like baking. Because I like Jeremy. "

Andrew looked back through the window, seeing them still talking. Aaron seemed more angry than usual during their 'conversations'. "You should offer to work there." Andrew suggested. "You could see him more."

Jean laughed, looking down before taking the final bite. "I could, but who would you hang out with then? You haven't got any other friends." "I have Jesse." Andrew said, taking a bite. "This is good. What flavor is it?"

"It's another new one from the Capitol called Palmetto. It's basically a super sweet blood orange." Jean said. "And Jesse doesn't count. He's got school you know."

"I'll teach him then." Andrew argued, his eyes following Jean as the older boy got up and started pacing. "I remember all my lessons. I could teach him with no struggle." Jean snorted, looking up. "Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

"Kicked out remember?" Jean mumbled, looking back at Andrew. Andrew shrugged, taking another bite from his muffin and Jean laughed. "I should. Aaron seems to be done in the shower, so if I go straight up Kev probably won't care." Andrew nodded, taking another bite quickly. "I need to, don't I?" Andrew nodded again. "I'll see you after. Good luck Andrew." Jean turned to walk back.

"Jean." Andrew said and he stopped, turning. "If I get picked, don't be nervous to say goodbye."

Jean knew that was Andrew asking him to come. But Andrew didn't like asking. Andrew didn't want to ask, say the word please. It wasn't how Andrew worked, and Jean knew that. He never questioned why, but he knew that. He never pressed any questions when it came to Andrew, because Andrew never did the same to him. He never questioned the scars on his cheek or the roughness of his hands or the burn marks that Jean turned up with.

"I will." Jean said, smiling gently. "I hope you enjoyed the muffin! If I do need to visit you, I'll bring one along. A parting gift." He laughed before walking inside.

Andrew watched the door for a few seconds after it closed before moving his glance to the gap in the curtains. Their argument went on for a few more minutes until Aaron looked out the window. Andrew raised an eyebrow and Aaron sighed, turning back to Kevin and saying something before leaving.

"Trouble in paradise?" Andrew muttered when Aaron reached his side.

"Shut up." Aaron muttered, already towards the village entrance.

He was dressed in a tight red shirt, it looked like Kevin's with the way it was too tight around his waist but loose around the arms, and a pair of trousers which were too torn to belong to a victor, and the style choice only pointed to Nicky. Too tight around the thighs with baggy bottoms. Just how Erik liked it.

"He just wanted to wish me good luck and I wanted to thank him, or tell him to thank his dad, for letting me use their shower."

"Wish you good luck with a massive smooch." Andrew said, walking after him.

"As if you and Jean weren't doing the same." Aaron muttered, scowling at him.

"Jean was actually just telling me about his crush. I got a name and everything. It was glorious." Andrew said. As Aaron went to ask, Andrew continued, "But I will not be saying anything about the mystery person. It was in our game, and I never tell secrets from our game."

"You're stupid shitty 'Truth for a truth' game?" Aaron asked and Andrew nodded. "I don't know why you two play that. It's not even a game, its talking. Like normal people do. You and Jean are weird."

"I think Jean is smarter than you when it comes to most things." Andrew mumbled, pushing the gate at the end of the pathway open. Nicky looked up through the window, smiling when he saw the twins. "If him being weird is the consequence of that, I don't think he minds.  

"Fucking weirdo." Aaron muttered, pushing past. Nicky immediately fussed over him, asking where the shirt he left out was. Erik moved closer to Andrew, holding Jesse in his arms.

"I have missed you." Erik said.  

"Jesse." Andrew called and the young boy looked over. "Want to hug?" Jesse nodded excitedly. Erik squatted down, letting Jesse run over. But just before he reached Andrew, he slowed down and then calmly wrapped his arms around Andrew's waist. "Oh Andrew, you look amazing." Nicky whispered. "I wish Betsy could see you before the ceremony, but she's already gone to get the other kids ready." He stood up, smiling. "You both look amazing. And we are going to get through this, and we are going to come home and be calm and happy."

His smile faltered for a second, but he plastered it back on before Aaron could notice. Erik and Andrew did, but both decided to stay quiet, knowing he was trying his hardest.

"Andrew, are you sure you don't want to move to a factory job with me and Aaron? You could watch the games."

"I'm fine being a clearer." Andrew mumbled. "I get good pay and I only have to talk to Jean. I see no flaws."

"But you can't watch the games." Nicky said.

"Erik doesn't like to watch the games. Neither do I." Andrew said, looking down at Jesse, who had buried his face in Andrew's side. "I am happy getting the updates from you over dinner."

Nicky went to say something, but Erik stepped forward and whispered into his ear. Nicky sighed, looking at him. Erik pecked his lips softly.

"We should get going, though," Andrew said, pushing Jesse back lightly and holding his hand out. Jesse smiled widely, taking his hand and holding tightly, as if his life depended on it.

The walk to the town center was mostly fully of Nicky's nervous rambling, with Erik and Aaron occasionally responding. But Andrew ignored them and chose to focus on the small tune Jesse was humming, squeezing his hand along to the beat.

When they reached the town center, Erik picked Jesse back up. Jesse waved to Andrew sadly before his dad carried him off, holding Nicky's hand. They passed the peacekeepers and stood in the crowd beside Jean and Kevin. Andrew took off down the silent path, leading them to the identification tables.

He could see over the peacekeepers' shoulders, David, Matt and Renee lined up along the back of the stage, with their escort, Kathy Ferdinand, standing in front of them. She was talking animatedly to them, with her big blonde hair and eyes practically painted with pink. The skin-tight pink leather dress clung to her to an uncomfortably revealing extent where Andrew had to look away.

"Next." The peacekeeper said and Andrew looked up, seeing Aaron's whole-body flinch. "Go through. Next."

Andrew stepped forward, holding his hand forward. The peacekeeper grabbed his wrist roughly, tugging it forward and pricking the end of his finger. They then pressed it to the paper, scanned it and let him through.

Andrew rushed through, pushing through all the crowds to find his brother. Aaron was waiting nervously, wringing his wrists. Andrew pushed through the crowd until he ended up besides his brother, waiting silently.

"What if we get picked?" Aaron whispered, looking at his brother. Andrew shrugged, keeping his eyes focused on the stage. "Andrew I'm serious." he said before his voice was drowned out by Kathy tapping the microphone.

"Welcome, welcome." she said, smiling at everyone.

The neon yellow contacts she wore made everyone unsettled, but she continued, her cat-like eyes scanning the crowd.

"Welcome to the fifty seventh Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor." She smirked, looking across to the group of people who weren't being reaped, taunting them. "Now, the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and women for the honor of representing district seven in this year's Hunger Games." She stopped for a second, smiling. "As usual, ladies first."

She shuffled across the stage in her overly tight dress and waved her hand over the bowl. A hand skimmed Andrew's wrist and he looked down, seeing Aaron's beside his, the knuckles brushing the black cloth. Andrew slid his hand into his brothers as Kathy waddled back to the microphone.

"Marissa Goodman." Kathy read out, looking across the crowd. People were stepped aside two sections before the twins.

Sixteen years old, Andrew told himself. The girl stepped forward, dressed in a light green dress which skimmed her knees and her hair tied into a tight ponytail.

"Come on up dear, don't be afraid." Four peacekeepers surrounded her, leading her up to the stage. Marissa slowly walked up, and Kathy enthusiastically welcomed her. "And now the boys."

Aaron's grip tightened on his hand as she reached the glass bowl. Kathy smiled, waving her hand around the top before diving in and pulling out one white slip. She slowly shuffled back to the microphone and leant close, undoing the slip slowly. She smirked before reading, "Aaron Michael Minyard."

"I volunteer as tribute." Andrew looked down before he even had acknowledged the words come out of his mouth. He looked back up, seeing everyone staring at him. Aaron was looking at him with tearful eyes.

"Not Andrew." he whispered, but Andrew pushed past. "No. Andrew stop!" he shouted, following him through. Andrew took his place in between the peacekeepers but was dragged back violently. "I won't let you do this." Aaron shouted.

"I volunteer." Andrew repeated, making direct eye contact with Aaron. Aaron shook his head, his mouth opening and closing until the first tear rolled down his cheek and his grip on Andrew's arm loosened.  

Aaron was pulled back quickly, and Andrew recognized the hand around his twin's shoulders immediately. Jean pulled Aaron back, avoiding Andrew's eye. Andrew turned around and followed the peacekeepers down the aisle. Renee was staring at him, shocked, from the back of the stage. Matt's eyes were filled with tears, while Wymack's jaw was clenched.  

Andrew didn't remember as far back as to when he was four, but he knew Wymack's story.

Wymack had trained as hard as he could after losing a close friend to the games when he was twelve. When David turned eighteen, he volunteered himself before the name was even called out. His reasoning was to save one more helpless kid from being killed in his district. This caused him to become a fan favorite in the Capitol, and a respected citizen in the district. In every shop, I have had a discount. Everyone smiled at him in the streets. Everyone welcomed him into their homes and invited him round for dinner.

Every year, when the victors returned, all three of the victors visited the houses of the fallen tributes to mourn with them for one night. They supplied the family with the food for the night and left them all the leftovers. It was a tradition started by Wymack, but when Renee won the forty-fourth Hunger Games, she joined in. And when Matt won the fifty-first Hunger Games, he became the final part of the trio.

Andrew was snapped out of his thoughts when he reached the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the stage. He made eye contact with Renee, who smiled gently at him. He sighed before walking up.

"A volunteer!" Kathy cried, holding her hand out to showcase Andrew's arrival. "Now, what's your name young man?"

"Andrew Joseph Minyard." Andrew said, looking forward.

Jean was finally looking at him, his face contorted with fear. Nicky was beside him, crying into Erik's shoulder. Erik was staring at Andrew in fear while Jesse sobbed, bundled in Betsy's arms. Aaron was crying, while being held back by Kevin.  

"Oh, and was that your brother I picked?" Kathy asked, smiling widely.

"Yes, my twin brother." Andrew answered, trying to keep his voice monotone.

"How lovely." Kathy said before turning to the crowd again. "Here we are. Our tributes from district seven!" She started clapping, but everyone stayed silent.

Jean brought three fingers up to his lips before raising them above his head. Slowly, everyone around him began to do the same, the gesture spreading among the crowd. A single tear rolled down Jean's scarred cheek and Andrew took a deep breath before bringing three fingers to his own lips then raising them above his head.

"Happy Hunger Games!" Kathy cried, "And may the odds be ever in your favor."

They turned away, Kathy leading them both to the door at the back. Andrew flinched away from her touch, overtaking Marissa and pushing himself into the corridor.

"Andrew." Renee said, walking up to him.

"Not." Andrew spat out through gritted teeth.

He would not let himself cry; he would not let himself cry.

"We can talk on the train. I want to say goodbye to them."

[yeoandmoon]

you are now listening to graceland too by phoebe bridgers! ( yeosang x f!reader )

fluff, burnout!yeosang, bassist!yeosang, writer!reader, childhood friends 2 lovers but also idiots 2 lovers, yeosang and reader run away, seongjoong are engaged, wooyoung + yeonjun have a band, there is only one bed, yeosang has a nose ring, it’s implied reader has a bad relationship with her mother, wc is 3.1k

NOTE: happy yeosang day! this was a doozy to write, but i hope you all enjoy it! its based off one of my favourite phoebe bridgers songs! :)

There’s a mural on the wall of the hotel lobby. It’s a warm toned painting of a forest, with a hint of a bright blue sky peeking out from the top of the trees. There’s a moose standing at the forefront of the mural, and a little fox sleeping on a rock towards the bottom, surrounded by colourful flowers and leaves.

The mural confused you, if you were being honest. The hotel you worked the night audit at was situated in the busy downtown centre of the city you lived in, and there were barely any forests for miles around the city - let alone any wildlife, like moose or foxes. Hongjoong said it was to make guests feel more ‘in touch with nature’ and to help people forget about the ‘problems of the real world’, while Yeosang claimed it was ‘just another scam in the tourist trap’.

You, on the other hand, was sure the mural was put there to torture you. You would spend nights having staring contests with the moose (which, to your surprise, you always lost), or you would spend hours on Google with Hongjoong trying to find out what species of fox the sleeping fox was (you were sure it was a cape fox, while Hongjoong swore up and down that it was a gray fox). The blue sky between the trees teased you; a reminder that most of your days were spent in the library at your university, or in this dimly lit lobby.

Sometimes, it felt like the only time you saw the sunshine was when you were with Yeosang.

Despite the occasional burnout and the lack of seeing sun most days, you didn’t mind the job. You were always more of a night person, and your classes were always later in the day so you did manage to pull in some sleep. Due to the late hours, you usually only dealt with customers in the first hour or two of your shift, and most of that was just directing confused Ubereats delivery people and pretty Tinder dates to hallways and rooms. It was the perfect job to work on your writing, and get your school work out of the way without listening to your mother cry about how you’re throwing your life away like your sister.

Plus, you could think of a hundred worse people to spend the night shift with than the nighttime valet, Hongjoong. Hongjoong often kept you occupied with his latest reforms and art projects, and stories about his fiancee, Seonghwa & their friend, Yunho (who he kept insisting you needed to go on a date with).

“Your emo boy is coming.”

Well, you could think of ninety-nine worse people to spend the night shift with than Hongjoong, who sat next to you at the check-in desk.

You scoff, “He’s not my emo boy.” You mumble, glancing at the street entrance to see Yeosang walk in with an ice coffee on hand.

Despite your words, Kang Yeosang was your person (you wouldn’t quite use the term ‘emo boy’, even if it did fit), and he had been since your family moved in next door to his family when you two were children. Although your friendship lately had been reduced to these late night meetings while you two were on break on your respective graveyard shifts (you at the hotel and Yeosang at the convenience store down the block, of course) and occasional meetings in the garden when you were both running errands for your families, you still considered Yeosang one of your dearest memories.

It was hard not too, you suppose. He had been there for many of your firsts, and was always cheering you on. Yeosang always made you feel powerful and important - like a powerful heroine, and not his bratty next door neighbor who cried on his doorstep after being dumped by her first year partner. He always made you feel wanted.

Yeosang grinned at you as he stepped into the lobby (if your heart fluttered in your chest, you ignored it). He had on a backwards dad cap, and he had recently changed his nose ring out for the gold hoop San had bought him for his birthday. You could just faintly see his birthmark peeking out from where his bleach blonde hair curled under the hat.

“Hello, Sunshine.” He greets you, setting the coffee down on your desk.

You set the pen you were holding down, “Hi Yeosang.”

Upon first glance at Yeosang, you can tell he’s buzzing about something. He’s leaning over the check-in counter and chewing on his lip while making small talk with Hongjoong about the tourist season.

You raise an eyebrow, sipping your coffee as Yeosang turns back to you, “Do you remember Wooyoung and Yeonjun?”

You nearly choke on your coffee at the mention of your other neighbor and ex-boyfriend. Wooyoung had moved onto your street a few years after you had, and quickly became apart of the little bond you and Yeosang had formed. He moved to the coast with Yeonjun, your ex, the first chance they had gotten, but Wooyoung’s family remained in the neighborhood.

“I babysat Woo’s brother the other day…” You watched your friend, “Did something happen? Mrs Jung didn’t say anything the other day.”

Yeosang grins, and it’s his scheming grin, “Their band got signed,” He tells you, “They need a new bassist, and Wooyoung showed them that video you took of me from that show last month. Their label wants me to come down; play a few shows with them, record a couple demos. See if we have chemistry, basically.”

Your eyes widen - both out of excitement and fear. You were happy and excited for Yeosang! This is the opportunity he had been wanting for years, but you were also terrified.

You were terrified in a horrible, selfish way because you knew if Yeosang left to join Wooyoung and Yeonjun, he’d never come back to you.

“That’s… That’s great, Yeo!” You manage a grin whilst trying to shove the selfish thoughts away, “When do they want you there?”

Yeosang’s smile falters, just for a moment but you still catch it, “Monday.”

“F-Five days?”

He nods, “I’m leaving Saturday morning, so I can be there Sunday afternoon.”

You can see it in his eyes; he’s terrified too.

Before you can say anything else, Yeosang leans over the check-in counter and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I have to get back to work, Sunshine.” He tells you, his voice quiet as if he’s giving you a secret, “I’ll see you later.”

He’s already halfway down the lobby when you swear and move out of your chair, you quickly call his name as you move out from behind the desk. You rush over to where he’s standing, and look up at him. He’s confused.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words die in his throat when you pull him into a tight hug, “I’m proud of you, Yeo.”

Yeosang wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. His chest is warm, and you’re sure you could spend hours here. He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head, “I know, Sunshine.” He pulls away, his hand on your arm, “I really do have to go, though. I’m already late for work.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around your torso as you watch him leave the hotel and turn down the street to go back to the convenience store. When you turn back around, Hongjoong is watching you with an amused look on his face.

You glare at him as you walk back to the desk, “Don’t you have a fiance to call, or something?”

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

You were tired.

Friday nights were always busy, but tonight was draining and loud and you could only take so much of Miss Liu’s incessant phone calls about mundane things at 3am. All you wanted to do was go home, and fall into your bed and sleep for hours.

Hongjoong didn’t help your mood either. It was an innocent question about Yeosang, asking if you’d seen him since he visited you on his break but it pushed your mood down to a low point. You had been so busy the past few days, and if you were being honest with yourself, you had been avoiding Yeosang.

You weren’t ready to see him leave. You knew it was selfish, but you figured avoiding Yeosang was easier than admitting you didn’t want him to leave you behind. You would just simply watch his life through Instagram and consider the ‘what-ifs’ in your life.

You shouldered your tote bag after clocking out before yelling a good-bye to Hongjoong. You could see the beginning rays of morning sun hitting the other buildings in the downtown core as you stepped out the employee doors, and then you were hit by the sight of Yeosang leaning against one of the pillars.

Your eyes widen, “Yeosan-”

“Come with me.”

You stop. Your words are left in your throat, “W-Wh… Go with you? To the coast?”

Yeosang nods, “Come with me,” He steps forward, taking your hands in his, “What do you have here? A degree you don’t care about? A job you hate?”

You frown, running over his words in your head, “I-I have my mom. And… I have Hongjoong!”

He raises an eyebrow, “Y/N, Sunshine… Your mom will barely notice you’re gone, and Hongjoong can visit us.” He cupped your cheek.

You’re so busy having an internal crisis you hardly notice the usage of ‘us’. You’re considering the logistics in your head. Yeosang was right; you didn’t care about your degree, and all it would take was an email saying you quit for them to find a new front desk person. Your mom would be upset for a few weeks. She’d probably make some passive aggressive Facebook posts about you before acting like your best friend again.

“Yeosang…” You look up at him, your hand coming up to circle around his wrist.

“Your sister is there, and you could write everyday.” Yeosang adds on, “I did the math, Y/N. Between the two of us, we’d have 6 months to figure it out. 6 months, and we’ll come back here if nothing works out.”

You stay silent for a moment.

“Sunshine, I promised I’d show you the stars, didn’t I?”

You gasp at the promise. It was a silly promise he had made when you were both kids; something you’d almost forgotten about.

It hits you quickly: there’s no one else you’d rather run away with. There’s no one else you’d trust to run away with.

You look up at Yeosang, “Yes.”

He grins, “Yes?”

You nod, “Yes, Yeo. I’ll go with you.”

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

An hour. An hour was how long it took for you to turn your life upside down for Kang Yeosang.

In an hour, you had emailed your program advisor and told them you wouldn’t be returning for the next semester, and you had called your manager and told them you wouldn’t be coming in for your next shift, or any shift after that (which was promptly followed by a phone call from Hongjoong, who seemed more excited about this than you were). You had packed up most of your clothes and important belongings, and they were loaded into the back of Yeosang’s shitty car. You left a note for your mother, and before you knew it, you were sitting in the passenger’s seat of Yeosang’s car.

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

You had fallen asleep barely an hour into the car ride. 

The rolling hills and fields outside your window made your eyes feel heavier, but you tried staying awake to keep Yeosang company.

“Go to sleep, Sunshine.” He tells you, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Yeosang’s promise was all it took for you to succumb to your exhaustion.

You don't usually remember your dreams. Though today, there are flashes of a beach, and a smile that takes your breath away. There are blue skies and if you try hard enough, you can just faintly smell sea salt.

You wake up hours later, smiling. True to his word, Yeosang is still there when you wake. He’s wearing a pair of sunglasses, and tapping his fingers to the beat of the song on the radio.

Yeosang smiles when he notices you’re awake, “I talked to your mother.”

Your eyes widen, “You talked to who?”

He laughs, “You didn’t answer your phone, so she called me.”

You frown, glancing at your phone in the free cup holder. You could imagine the amount of calls and texts that were in there.

“She wasn’t very happy.” Yeosang continues, “She wants you to call her when we get there.”

You nod, “Thank you, Yeo.” You say softly, looking over at him.

Yeosang throws you a smile, “Of course.”

“Not just for talking to my mom…” You watch him, “For not leaving me behind, too. Thank you.”

Yeosang reaches over, taking your hand, “I’d never leave you behind, Sunshine. You’d have to try really hard to get rid of me.”

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

The car ride was long, and full of Yeosang’s early 2000s emo playlist & fast food. You called your sister, who was ecstatic to hear about your plans and had immediately offered you and Yeosang her beach house. She made a comment about how ‘she always knew you two would end up together’, and it made your heart flutter when you glanced at Yeosang.

Yeosang told you about Wooyoung’s band, and how excited he was to play with Wooyoung. You smiled, listening to him fondly talk about your old friends and their music.

It was getting late though, and you could see it in Yeosang’s face that he was getting tired.

“We should stop for the night.” You tell him, “You’ve been driving since 6am, Yeo.”

He huffs, “We could drive through the night.” He proposes, “We’d make it to your sister’s place in a few hours.”

You frown, “Or... We could stop for the night, shower, and then leave first thing tomorrow morning. We'll get there by noon tomorrow.”

Yeosang glances at you, going to protest. He ends up yawning instead, his nose wrinkling slightly, “Fine.” He pouts.

You laugh, reaching for your phone to google the closest hotels. There's a comfortable silence in the car, filled with the occasional beat of Yeosang’s fingers on the steering wheel. You feel at ease, even if it's just for a moment.

“There’s a motel off the next exit.” You tell him, stifling a yawn of your own.

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

Sure enough, there had been a motel off the next exit. It was small and slightly rundown, but cheap and had an available room. You waited in the car while Yeosang went into the check-in office, promising to be back in a moment.

He came back dangling a key in his hand, and a slight frown on his face as he opened the car door to let you out.

“So... There’s only one bed.” He broke the news, a blush growing up his cheeks, “It’s all they had, unless we wanted to drive another hour down the highway.”

Your eyes widen, “O-Oh.” You glance at the key, and then back up at Yeosang, “I’ll sleep on the floor, or something.”

Yeosang frowns, shaking his head, “We can share for one night, Sunshine. I think it’ll be okay.”

Which leads you to here; lying almost nose to nose with Yeosang. Your hair was soaking wet from a shower in the tiny bathroom and the small motel bed wasn’t comfortable, but you didn’t seem to mind as you took in the man in front of you. You pushed the strands of bleach blonde hair out of his face, and your fingers softly lingered on the birthmark next to his eye.

His breath stuttered, “Y/N,” He says, his voice a mere whisper, “We’re free.”

You let your hand rest against his cheek. Your eyes lingered on his lips before you caught yourself, moving your gaze back up to his eyes.

Yeosang only smiled at you. He gently held your wrist as he tilted his head and placed a soft kiss on your palm, “I’m going to kiss you now, Sunshine.”

“Yes please.”

You felt every nerve in your body light up when Yeosang kissed you.

A small part of your brain told you that this is where you’re meant to be: in Yeosang’s arms.

You felt this way the first time Yeosang had kissed you too, all the way back on that roof in 11th grade. You two had been talking about the future; about your writing and Yeosang’s music. You looked up at the hazy night sky, and you asked Yeosang if you’d ever get to see the stars.

He smiled at you, telling you that he would show them to you one day before he kissed you so sweetly.

Yeosang still kissed you sweetly. He kissed you like you held the secrets of the universe in your hand for him to take.

You pulled away, “I think I love you.”

He smiles against your lips, rubbing soft circles into your wrist, “I think I love you too, baby.”

—————-

You had this assumption that the next morning would be awkward; that you would be stuck for the next 6 months with someone you could barely look in the eye because of a late night confession.

Instead, you awoke to Yeosang kissing your head and placing a bagel & ice coffee down for you. He had quickly ushered you into the shower, before you put on a change of clothes and were quickly led out to the car between bites of your bagel. This all happened over Yeosang telling you how you only had a few hours before you reached your sister’s beach house, and he wanted to try and make good time so you could enjoy the beach today.

You giggled at his antics before settling into the passenger’s seat for the last few hours of your journey.

You sipped your ice coffee as you watched out the window. The countryside on the highway zoomed by you, and the car was full of sunlight from Yeosang’s sunroof being open. There was a Fall Out Boy song on the radio, and you felt a sense of calm brush over you as Yeosang took your hand in his.

The sunshine had never felt so nice on your skin as Yeosang pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

taglist: @vanishingboots @sunsethw4​ 

[candyopala]

Stuck in his ways, Chapter 7

Chapter Summary:  Y/N and Obito have to get around the awkwardness of the events from that night, and what better to help with that then team seven in all its glory?

Words: 2.3k

AO3

Please like or reblog if you enjoy, check my rules for requests too! My dms are also open if you want to chat or anything else. 

After spending a whole day on the hospital, Obito heads home for some well-deserved sleep. It is only on the next day, on his way to the field, that he starts properly processing what happened that night with Y/N. Her bandaging him up with a weird look in her eyes, him crying in front of her… the warmth he felt when she held his hand. Why did he do that in front of her anyway? They barely know each other, she teases him to no end, but he can’t help to already feel close to her, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

The way she held him…. He hasn’t felt this way since long ago, he felt accepted in an intimate way, he felt genuine companionship with her. Obito feels bad when he remembers too the reason for that whole situation, he wanted to get rid of the girl; he wanted to make her go away without giving her a chance. 

I’ve been so blind, shutting her off like that…

Without knowing anything about his failures and only knowing that ugly side he shows to everyone, she still helped him through a tough time. He can’t help but feel his heart flutter with embarrassment, he didn’t even give her much of a chance. She might not be from Konoha, but there’s still good in her. He needs to take his mission with her more seriously.

He walks down the market streets, instinctively analyzing every single action that happens around him, seeing the faces of the people going up and down the roadway busy with their things. It’s not long before he spots four familiar figures walking down the street together: team seven. Naruto and Sakura discuss loudly about a matter Obito doesn’t bother try rearing, followed by Sasuke and Kakashi tagging along. Obito tries to say hi to Kakashi, only to be attacked by a running Naruto that throws himself onto him with all his force: 

“Big bro Obito!”

“Hey! Calm down now! It’s only seven a.m. for Kami’s sake!” He scolds while laughing aloud and hugging the thirteen-year-old back

“I’m learning something new, you have to come see it! Are you busy?”

“I’m going to the training grounds, I can’t Naruto, sorry”

“Come on! Train with us!”

“Hey Naruto, stop bothering Obito, all right? He’s busy” Kakashi tries to intervene in Obito’s sake

“Huh… actually…” 

Obito’s mind starts functioning, he does need to teach some new stuff to Sasuke and bringing Y/N along would be good for her training. He decides to join them, he actually feels deep down the need to introduce her to new people, to get her more settled into the village. 

“I guess I’ll come along. There’s someone I want you guys to meet”

“Oh, is it her?” Naruto says with a devilish sparkle in his eyes.

“Her? Are you dating?” Sakura jumps up, immediately invested into the conversation.

“Finally” Sasuke also joins to make it all worse.

“Guys, calm down…” Kakashi once again tries to save his friend from his hyperactive trio “He’s just training a new member of the village”

A collective “oh” is heard from the two in disappointment. Great, now even the kids are invested in his love life. Obito tells them a little bit more about her on the way to the field, and he notices that even Kakashi seems a little bit more enthusiastic than normal. 

When they reach the training grounds, he finds Y/N laying back on a tree, with a surprised look on her face when she sees the kids. Obito tries to introduce them, but they end up introducing themselves, with a hyperactive Naruto leading the presentations followed by his teammates and his teacher. 

“Nice to meet you guys! Are we training together today?”

“Yup” Obito tries to say in the middle of Naruto’s ramblings 

“How’s your arm?” She asks him back in the midst of it, a bit of what seems worry flashes her eyes, only to be quickly concealed with a look to the side.

“Oh, feeling like new. Some medical ninjutsu quickly solved it.” He states as he gets more embarrassed by the minute, once the memory of their shared companionship floods his mind. He needs to try to actually be nicer to her. 

Meanwhile, Sakura flies a sly meaning smile in Obito’s direction, to his utter desperation. Watching the whole scene develop, Kakashi once again intervenes, trying to get to the subject of training. 

“So, Y/N, dumbi- ahem, Obito told me you need some help with discovering your chakra nature. Coincidentally, that’s what I’m currently doing with the kids, so we could help you with that”

“That would be great, thanks guys! Out of curiosity, what horrible things did my mentor say about me?” 

“Only the most terrible embarrassing things I found on your file” Obito teases back in a flash, without doing much thinking, letting himself play around a little.

“Oh then I should tell you friend about your new nickna-“

“Let’s start training, shall we?” He interrupts her before she can say it, since letting Kakashi know about that would be the end of him.

Kakashi started trying to teach Y/N a couple of techniques, teaching her to concentrate her chakra and showing her the right hand signs. Obito also explained about the ideal state of mind each element requires, the type of energy each one of them consumes. 

Raiton was immediately out of question, and despite her special punch technique, doton seemed to drain too much of her energy, as well as suiton. She was able to produce a small amount of katon, only achieving smaller jutsu still due to the immense amount of chakra these require, so the fireball jutsu was out of question. 

Futton was their last attempt and the one they were more successful with. She could produce wind with her running speed, creating vacuum spots, using the element in a less concentrated way than the rasengan requires, since she is still inexperienced with chakra concentration at that level. 

Obito was actually pleased with today’s developments; he thinks that she can become even stronger by actually doing jutsu in battle. Naruto was also overjoyed to learn that his new village mate had the same main element as himself, showing her his still developing rasengan, proud of his own training and giving her some tips. 

Obito let the pair talking and went to oversee Kakashi and Sasuke, now training his chidori technique. His little cousin had also developed a lot, and was now opening up to be a wonderful kid thanks to Naruto and Sakura’s insistence on their friendship, and Itachi’s efforts to make him socialize more. 

He then also let them train and sat down together with Sakura, who was watching her colleagues train too, while she herself studied some medical ninjutsu books. The small girl looked at him with curiosity, noting the different expression on her sensei’s friend, who was usually much more uptight and serious. With that knowing look again, she simply stated: 

“Mr. Obito, your main element is katon, right?”

“Yes Sakura, why?”

“Ah nothing, I was just wondering… katon is compatible with futton, right?”

“Yes, both can be used together to create more powerful jutsu”

 “So… we could say that you and Y/N are compatible”

Obito’s eye goes wide with the way the girl says it. Both of them know she is not talking about just jutsu here. The implication of what she said makes him go as red as a pepper. 

“N-no Sakura, she is my colleague, we are just that.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about sir, excuse me.”

The girl gets up and runs into Naruto and Y/N’s direction, winking back at Obito on her way. 

 ~”~

 The team gathers up for lunch, Y/N sits beside Obito’s friend Kakashi, opposite to her mentor, who sat in front of her. She avoided his eye contact, still feeling a little inappropriate for her behavior that night. She fears that what happened was too intimate for her own comfort, that she should not try to get that close to him. She should be his teammate, nothing else. She must ignore that pull that she feels from him, that desperate need she feels to talk to him about why he was crying that night. 

She tries to strike up conversation with the ninja beside her, and he is very receptive, if not for his general lack of energy and relaxed demeanor. She sees a small little orange book protruding from his pocket, is that what she thinks it is? It is! The greatest book series of all time! 

“Hey, is that Icha Icha?”

“Yes it is! I just picked up the latest volume!” he immediately assumes a whole different behavior, now fully invested in the conversation.

“What chapter are you on? Did you reach chapter 37 yet?”

“No, and no spoilers, please! I dying to know what she will do when she finds out about that thing”

“Dude, trust me, it’s going to be awesome”

They both strike up conversation about it for a couple of minutes, Y/N talks excitedly about the romance’s structure and how she finds it poetic in a way. They both discuss the general plots, praising the author despite Naruto’s loud complaints about him being a total pervert. 

When she finally looks at Obito’s direction, she sees the jonin hunched forward, with an unimpressed look on his face, matching Sasuke’s that also seems to be bothered by the subject matter.

“Great, another one, they will talk about it forever” The young Uchiha comments.

“I don’t know what you guys see in this stupid book anyway” The oldest complements.

“He didn’t even give it a try; can you believe it, Y/N?” Kakashi teases in response.

“Sacrilegious! How could he say such things?” She retorts with fake shock.

“Shut up, you two perverts.” Obito says with a scorn forming on his lips, something he usually does that Y/N is starting to find extremely fun and… endearing? 

Y/N, Kakashi and the kids laugh at his little tantrum, and later even himself. He is acting different today, more open, with a more lighthearted attitude, a lot less uptight and grumpy. Y/N feels a little happy knowing that he is feeling better, but she quickly shuts off the realization. 

Concentrate on what’s important here. 

They quickly fall back into training, with Y/N sitting back due to her extreme exertion during the chakra nature tests. After he has finished with his portion of the training with Kakashi and Obito, Naruto joins her. They sit together observing Obito discussing the fireball jutsu with Sasuke, Y/N can’t help but notice the proud look on her teammate’s face when his little cousin does a perfect ball of fire, making her let out a small smile. He’s not so cynical after all.  

Naruto begins to talk about how he needs to be as strong as his father is, and Y/N learns that he is, in fact, son of the Hokage. He talks and explains a lot about the village and also talks about how his mom is always bothering him to make his bed in the morning. The kid is all over the place until he focuses on the subject of Obito. 

He begins to tell her about how he is like a big brother for him and how he taught him his most deadly jutsu, something about a sexy jutsu, and how he is cool even if he has no girlfriend. Y/N, being the innocent thing she is, prods him for more embarrassing details about her mentor. 

“One time he got stuck in the sexy woman form and Jiraya followed him around the village for a day! He had to hide from the pervert in the sewers! And once he choked with candy in the middle of a jonin reunion, Kakashi told me that”

Y/N cannot help but bust out in laughter at the image that forms in her mind, not being able to breathe while the kid continues to spill out embarrassing stories about the Uchiha. Naruto is suddenly stopped when Sakura lands a punch on top of his head, screaming in annoyance with her teammate’s attitude: 

“Stop ruining everything!”

What she meant with that remains a mystery to Y/N. The discussion has to be separated by a tired Kakashi, holding Sakura back with all his force. Y/N is caught off guard by Obito’s presence by her side. 

He helps her get up, giving his gloved hand in support. She accepts it, steading herself up. 

“So, that’s all for today, sewer boy?”

“He told you about that, huh?”

“Of course he did”

“Yup, that’s all for today. Let’s head home”

“Let’s? I didn’t know you had moved into my broom closet, Obito”

“You know I’m not letting you walk around exhausted like that, Y/N”

The change in his tone scares her. He sounds serious, almost protective, and he calling her name like that sends shivers down her spine, in a not so bad way. He also didn’t call her a dumbass, is that an improvement? 

She once again insists on walking by herself, but he insists on it so much that she eventually gives up and lets him accompany her. They discuss her new technique possibilities on most of the way, only for the subject to change as they reach her apartment. 

“So, what did you think about them?”

“They’re nice kids, all of them seem to look up to you, Naruto especially”

“He’s a good kid, they are all like family to me”

Y/N agrees with her head, thinking to herself about the word family. She once had one, but lost them very early on. Moreover, once she found another person she could call that, she lost them too. The memories flood her mind, making her face go serious and eyes to go foggy. 

“Take good care of them Obito, what you have here is… amazing”

“I will, I promised that long ago”

They reach her door, saying their goodbyes quickly. As Y/N closes her door, Obito calling her name again interrupts her.

“Oh! Y/N! I forgot; we have an important meeting with the Hokage tomorrow at ten in the morning. We will be heading out for our first mission, be ready”

[hot-wiings]

The One Where Pro-hero!Katsuki Bakugo's Son, Finds Santa Kissing His Mother. Alternatively, The One Where Katsuki's Son Demands His Father Beat Up Santa Claus On Christmas.

Requested By: Wattpad User

Edited: 12-25-2020

Katsuki quietly hummed to himself as he worked inside the kitchen prepping breakfast. He had some pancakes and sausage on the stovetop, whereas he kept the bacon cooking inside the oven. He had one arm on [Daughter Name], keeping her attached to his hip as he bounced her and flipped food with his other hand. She was only two and still being young she clung to her father for attention, with it being one of his rare days off for the holidays he wasn't going to say no, he was going to devote it to her and his son.

"Bud, can you toast the bagels for me?"

Katsuki briefly moved his attention from the stove to pull the bag of bagels out of the bread cabinet and tossed them onto the counter. Usually, he'd had done it himself but with his daughter on his hip, cooking was already proving to be difficult. His son rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"I like it better when mom cooks. She never makes me do stuff."

"Hey! You should gladly offer yourself up to help her when I'm not around. Your mother is a Saint, that's why she's sleeping in and you're stuck with me. Now toast the f– toast the bagels."

[Son Name] untied the bag and pulled the bagels out begrudgingly. He was defiantly a momma's boy and loved to give Katsuki lip, undoubtedly universal karma for Katsuki being such a demon to his own mother. Katsuki had to smile to himself as he put food on platters and placed it on the table as well as placing his daughter in her height chair before leaving to wake you up for breakfast.

Katsuki never thought this would become his life. He never thought he'd have a son, his own carbon copy of himself, nor did he imagine he'd follow up with baby number two attached to his hip whenever he wasn't out heroing. Beyond that, he never imagined he'd find someone like you, someone who put up with his crap, someone perfect. He never imagined such a picture-perfect domestic life for himself, one where he cooked, fed the children and owned a cat. One where he had a scheduled date night every week and brought flowers home every other Sunday. He wouldn't ever dare change it.

"Baby?"

Katsuki quietly closed the door behind him and walked over to the window so he could open up the curtains and let light in. You groaned and pulled the pillow over your head as the light made contact with you. You pulled the blanket closer to your body, and a smile tugged at Katsuki's lips. He loved moments like this.

"Sweetheart, it's time to wake up."

"No, you're mean. A big meanie."

Katsuki climbed into the bed and cuddled up next to you. He pulled the pillow off of your head and threw it onto the ground on his side so you couldn't reach back for it. You had major bedhead, and he loved that. Years ago you would've forbidden him from seeing you like that, now he found it hot.

"It's Christmas Eve, you need to get up."

"No, leave me alone. It's my day off, go wake the kids up."

"Already awake, and breakfast is on the table. We wanted to let you sleep in, give you a break for once."

Katsuki pushed your hair out of your face and tried to pull the blanket out of your grip as you fought back a smile. He thought he was being really smooth.

"For being a pro-hero you're such a liar. You don't want me to have a break, you were trying to butter me up so we can repeat what we did last night."

"You were the one who was all over Santa last night, don't blame me if I try to get the use out of the Santa suit before I have to give it back to the company."

He was referring to the Santa costume he came home wearing last night. Everyone at his hero agency had to dress up as Santa and do some charity work for a variety of different places such as churches and hospitals. He came straight home afterward and you put it to good use.

"Mm, I don't need Santa when I have you, I guess."

"Geez, aren't you romantic."

"Just let me put some clothes on and I will be right down."

You rolled off the bed and scampered off to your laundry basket to see if you could find some pajamas to clothe your naked body. Katsuki ripped his eyes away from your back, ripped his eyes away from the marks he gave you passionately. He climbed off of the bed and made his way back downstairs to the breakfast table but he passed [Son Name] in the kitchen putting bagels in a toaster.

"Dad, can I talk to you? Man to man."

"What's up, little man?"

"Last night... Last night I saw mommy and Santa kissing."

Katsuki tried to laugh it off as he pulled the orange juice from the fridge and placed it on the table, your son following him hot on his tail as he went.

"Santa only comes on Christmas."

"That's what I thought, but mom said Santa comes before Christmas sometimes to make sure our trees are working, like in 'The Grinch' but for real, and mommy would never lie to me."

"I'm sure it's not what it looked like, Alright? Your mother loves us both very much and she wouldn't do that to us."

It was exactly what it looked like but it wasn't Santa, it was himself in the Santa suit. Katsuki was grasping at straws, trying to explains this to his son and make it look innocent, trying to make you look good without exposing the secret.

"I know mommy wouldn't do that to us! What I really wanted to talk about was how Santa was really mean. He took her into her bedroom and said some really mean things. He yelled stuff at her like 'that's my pussy' and 'give me a baby'. If he wants a cat so bad can't the elves just give him one, I like our cat."

This progressively kept getting worse, and Katsuki was glad that you were still upstairs. Had you heard their conversation you surely would've killed Katsuki.

"Daddy, you need to stop Santa before he tries to steal our cat, I love Gigi! What if he tries taking [Daughter Name], he said he wanted a baby. Or worse, what if he tries stealing mommy from you. You-you need to beat him up when he comes tonight. You need to set Santa straight."

There were so many things Katsuki could've said or done to de-escalate this. He could kindly explain he was in a Santa suit for charity work. He could have lied and said he and you were arguing about getting another cat. He could have been honest and said you both were talking about having another child, but he didn't. [Son name] was begging him with forming tears in his eyes. He was crying out and calling him daddy. He was such a momma's boy, Katsuki hadn't had his son need or want him like this in such a long time. It felt nice, it felt good, so all Katsuki did was nod and agree with his son.

"They don't call me DynaMight for nothing. I'll blow him into next week. Santa won't think about stealing anyone of our family members ever again."

[Son Name] wrapped his arms around Katsuki and he smiled. He tightly grabbed his father, and let his tears fall into Katsuki's shirt as he mumbled out thank you's.

"I can't wait to see you beat up Santa."

In hindsight, Katsuki should've expected that one. How was he supposed to beat up Santa when he was Santa in the first place. Suddenly a horrible idea crossed Katsukis head. It is despicable, and mean. You would've frowned upon it and discouraged it. Once his son let go of him and walked off to sit at the breakfast table, Katsuki walked down the hall to make a phone call to his coworker.

"Key, Kaminari– What do you mean I only call you when I need something?! I'm a good friend you du– Look, do you still have your Santa suit? Come to my house tonight at eleven, in your suit. I promise it's for a good cause."

The clock was slowly ticking away. Every second chasing down the hour and Christmas Eve was well on it's way to becoming Christmas. Supper had finished up, Katsuki even cleared the table and helped you do the dishes. He had cooked, and it was a mutual unspoken agreement between you both that whoever cooked dinner did not have to clean it up after. He didn't even try to sprinkle you with water, he was just sweet and soft for the evening.

"Thanks, Katsuki, you're being so sweet today. Let me sleep in, made breakfast and you helped me clean? God, you're such a keeper."

You threw your drying towel onto the now cleared and clean counter before you made your way to the living room to find some Christmas movie on the tv that was age-appropriate for your children. Katsuki was being sweet, too sweet and it made you suspicious. He was pulling out all the cards and tricks he typically pulls out when you get angry that he'd forgotten something, or came home too late.

After you got settled down on the couch with [Son Name] nestled between your legs on the floor and [Daughter name] cuddling into your right side. Katsuki came over and sat a tray of hot cocoa on the coffee table in front of the couch. Katsuki took a seat at your left side and passed you a mug before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close. You hummed while you sipped from the mug and carefully watched as Katsuki skimmed through the tv channels and put on 'Santa Claus', the one starring Tim Allen, for the kids and you.

He hated that movie. He claimed it was to overwatched. After being put on year after year he wanted a new Christmas movie.

"What did you do?"

"What do you mean?"

Katsuki was taken back by your words. He didn't do anything, at least not yet. He was planning to roast your best friend, but Denki didn't even know it was happening and the only one who could snitch was his son who didn't know it would be Denki.

"You let me sleep in, you made breakfast, you bathed the kids and uhm, me. You cooked and helped clean dinner, now you've brought me cocoa and now you're putting on a movie you hate. So, what did you do?"

To be fair, some of those things Katsuki had planned out into motion before he had even planned to blast Denki into next Tuesday.

"I just wanna cherish you. You're my wife, let me love you."

Katsuki pulled you even closer to his side, nearly making the cocoa in your hands tip over as he placed a tender kiss onto the tip of your head.

"You forgot to get me a present didn't you?"

Your eyes narrowed at Katsuki before he dipped his head own to your ear and whispered hotly.

"I did not forget, you're getting a great present tomorrow morning, and maybe I'll even give you one tonight."

"I'm watching you."

The minutes slid by as you watched the movie together as a family. Everyone once and awhile you give Katsuki a look out of the side of your eye, carefully inspecting him. Soon your son was nodding off at your legs and your daughter was sound asleep in your lap.

"Time for bed."

Your son jumped up, seemingly having excitement from out of nowhere. You carefully picked up your daughter and carried her in your arms as you stood up to carry her to bed. One down, one to go.

"Go brush your teeth and put on your pajamas for mommy, okay? I'll be right there to tuck you in."

Your words were rushed and whispered as to not wake your sleeping daughter, but your son frowned and grabbed Katsuki's hand.

"I want daddy to tuck me in tonight."

"Mm, you sure? I'd love to read you a bedtime story."

"I want dad."

You adjusted your daughter on your arms to help even out the weight as you stared down your son and husband.

"If you're both not in bed within half an hour I will take away a Christmas gift."

You walked off upstairs, still suspicious of the males in your family. No way did your son, the momma's boy, just reject your offer. Now you were positive Katsuki was up to something.

Katsuki waited until you were upstairs to text Denki. He was outside, waiting to make noise under the pretense that his son wanted to meet Santa. Denki could be heard outside, doing goodness knows what.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yeah! I bet it's Santa, are you gonna beat him up dad, are you gonna show him who's boss!?"

Katsuki rolled his sleeves up and looked back at the stairs, just to be sure you were upstairs and not watching them.

"You can bet your butt I am! Your dads the greatest, watch me go kick Santa's butt."

Katsuki marched to the front door and swung it open before making his way to Denki. He walked the way he did on patrol, the way he did when he was on TV, like a man on a mission, a man with a purpose.

"Ho-Ho-Ho!–"

"Ho-Ho-Ho yourself! Heard you wanted to break apart my family, Santa."

Katsuki aimed one of his blasts at Denki. It wasn't large enough to harm him, but it was large enough to hurt.

"Katsuki, what the fuck dude?"

"That was for being mean to my wife and trying to take away our cat."

Katsuki marched closer to Denki and kicked him in the leg, grinning as he heard Denki groan in pain.

"That was for swearing in front of my kid. If I can't do it, neither can you."

"I'm sorry, Jesus Christ."

Katsuki left Denki on the floor as he walked over to the front door and picked his son up. His son clutched on to him tightly, happy his father saved the family. Happy his father wouldn't let Santa take his cat or mother away.

"Thanks, Dad, you're my hero."

"Well, I am the best hero. I'd fight Santa for you any day, just don't tell your mom."

Even though Denki snitched to you the next day, even though you had watched the altercation through the window, you didn't say a word to Katsuki. You didn't reprimand him, or get upset that he hurt Denki. Instead, you watched fondly with a smile from the window. That was the father of your children, your hero, and the guy who held your heart. He was soft and sweet and held the bar for fathers high. He deserved a pass for this one.

[bush-viper-cutie]

Chapter One: The New House

Pairing: Snape x OC

Word Count: 2,472

Rating: E

Plot:  Severus, forced to live with his parents once again, moves into a new house with them… except the house itself isn’t new. Its old, very old indeed.

Warnings: none

A/N: Snapetober! I will be posting chapters often to this slice-of-life gothic slow-burn romance I have in my head :D Not following any prompts but I hope the general atmosphere of these chapters are spooky? Mixed with some gothic… maybe some supernatural elements ahead ;) Enjoy :D

Posted: 10/1/21

Chapter List

Next Chapter –>

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~*~*~ = time skip

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Severus Snape hated his life. His parents were awful, his family had no money, no support from anyone, and everyone he'd ever known hated him. The majority of his 20 years of life had been like that, except for a small bit of it where it wasn't, where it had been alright. For a few quick years, he had one friend who understood him, although it was now as he sat in the backseat of his father's car, looking up at the clouds, that he wondered if she ever did.

The clouds coated the sky, covering every sliver of sunshine with thick grey. No light broke through and as a result, everything looked as miserable as his life felt. The droning of the car engine and tires on concrete grated his ears as he tried for peace of mind.

His father's suitcase - sandwiched above Severus' trunk and his mother's large bag - dug into his side, poking at him deeper with every turn the car took. They'd been driving for almost an hour but he knew they weren't even close to their destination; they were still inside the city, still inside its limits. He didn't need to know where they were going, even if he'd like to, he knew his father couldn't afford to move to any city nor any country home close by.

His mother sat quietly in the passenger seat, watching classy houses with nice, white picket fences and short little rose hedges pass by as they drove. She looked away from the window when they stopped at lights or when his father needed to look at the map for directions; Severus suspected she didn't want to know if any of the four-member families out on their daily evening walk around their block looked in to see who owned the beat-up little pile of scrap metal driving by their house.

He didn't care though. He hardly cared about anything lately. The last time he could remember caring was the scroll parchment he'd received for graduating Hogwarts. That was all he'd wanted for two years. After he'd lost his only friend - his only best friend - he focused on school and school alone. He thought everything about his life would change the second he got hold of that certificate. For a few long days it had felt like a first-place trophy, but it wasn't. It was what it was: A certificate, of completion, of participation. Nothing more.

Maybe he could have been something. If he'd gotten a job, saved up while living with his parents, and finally moved out, leaving them behind forever... But he didn't do that. He spent two years wasting time meddling in a bigoted cult working, selling potions for scrap. Hardly making enough to stay off the streets pretending like it was better than living at home just because the new sinking ship he'd found himself in was with his friends. Maybe eventually he could have made it work if it hadn't been for the Aurors who busted their small section of Death Eaters dedicated to making money selling illegal potions.

He supposed they threw themselves a party, thinking themselves big-shots, catching a handful of young adults making money out the back of a shady pub. He remembered the headline in the Daily Prophet: "Fourteen Death Eaters caught and awaiting sentencing". He supposed his mother thought herself a saint now too, bailing him out, saving him from days of "possible abuse" as if it were any worse than the prison he'd lived in all his life.

At first, he couldn't figure why - not for the life of him - she'd even care what happened to him. He wasn't a child and he wasn't her problem anymore. He knew she derived some sick pleasure knowing he not only owed his existence to her but now his freedom as well... and then it all came out. They bought a new house and it wasn't built to be kept up by two people, hell not even three but he was sure his extra pair of hands would come very handy to them.

They didn't even need to pay him. Not only was he their child, but that bail money was something he couldn't even attempt at paying back, and not because it had been a lot. She'd paid it in wizarding money left over from her witch days and she knew his wand had been broken as part of his sentencing. He'd have to beg some stuck-up department deep in the government for a wand permit which cost money. Then he'd have to buy himself a new wand, then work to pay her back all while "bumming" it at home while his father yelled about getting a "real job", one that didn't involve "devil magic" in the "devil society" that was the wizarding world. And he was sure he wouldn't be able to show up for work with a bruised eye or swollen jaw, even if by some miracle his employer could look past his new criminal record.

He held in a wince as the car turned again and the top luggage fell onto his head. He was back to old habits trying to pretend he didn't exist.

"Hey," Tobias said, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "Fix that."

Without a word, Severus shoved the luggage back onto the pile behind the driver's seat and sat back. They were on the outskirts of society now. The scenery had turned to country, and the smog of the city had cleared, though the skies were still dark.

His father stopped for a few moments and refolded the map on his lap. His mother carried on watching the world outside, unresponsive to either of them or the happenings inside the car.

"What's that say," Tobias handed Severus the map and lit a cigarette while he waited, not bothering to open the window.

Severus brought the map up to his eyes and squinted. His eyesight was poor and worsened by the approaching dark. "S-starts with 'c'..."

"S'got a double 't' or 'h'?"

"'H'." Severus handed it back and Tobias started driving again.  He took several turns and headed onto a rougher road.

Within minutes the tame country became wild and morphed into a long stretch of woods. For the first few minutes, he hadn't even noticed despite being completely focused on the environment that passed them, like his mother still was. The first few trees seemed to go on, and just when he thought they'd clear them and continue driving past open fields, the trees persisted until he realized they were deep inside a forest now.

A few more minutes passed and they finally did exit the forest into a wide field of dead chopped trees cleared to the side on either edge of the steep hill the car was climbing. Severus sat up finally, hearing his spine crack and snap into place after being hunched over for the better part of the day. He liked the colorful mushrooms and bright green moss growing on the black logs of the discarded trees.

"Here," Tobias grumbled, rolling down the window. He flicked his cigarette butt and rolled it back up.

Severus sat forward and looked out the windshield up at the house they were approaching. It was large and clearly abandoned, probably for a good decade. The shingles were covered in dead leaves, the paint was chipping, the windows were gray and smeared with dirt likely blown during wind storms. The porch was missing a step and the columns holding up the covering were slanted. It was more yellow at the top and browner at the bottom - rot on the foundation most likely.

He slumped back in his seat. At least, if it turned out horrible, if it came down the second they stepped inside, or the walls melted from mold before their eyes, their old home was still waiting for them, the cursed thing. Almost all houses back home on Spinners End were abandoned. No one to sell to, no one to buy decrepit eyesores in the shadow of rundown factories. But at least he still had the option if it all went wrong.

~*~*~

Severus stuffed his suitcase into the closet, kicked it in, and shut the door. Unpacking could wait. He turned around and looked at his room as a whole. It was small, located up the stairs in a corner. It had a slanted roof which was odd, considering there was a third floor above him. It would do though, it was on the opposite side of the house as his parent's room, so it would certainly do quite nicely.

He moved to the window and looked out to watch the mist settle below. His father was gone to town to purchase things they'd need: a lighter apparently for the fireplaces since this house was built before furnaces and never renovated. He felt like a poor house servant to a rich Lord, but it was better than feeling like a roach in his old home. They needed coal too, or maybe wood, whatever old metal kitchen stoves and ovens used.

Severus walked out of his room to look down the hall again. It was a larger house than he was used to - it practically felt like a palace - and was sure it would take a few days to memorize how to find the correct corridor places.  It wasn't Like Hogwarts, which typically took several years to memorize the right paths.

He walked down the opposite way he came and observed the way the dust clung to the walls giving the blue wallpaper a very muted look. The original owners liked their colors, practically every room had a different color to it. Corridors were blue, bedrooms green, dining room orange, library red, kitchen white, bathrooms pink... At least none of the colors were very offensive to the eyes, even without the dust they were all very muted and earthy.

He had explored the bottom floor, the second floor had all the bedrooms, and the third-floor stairs must be around somewhere, hidden. As he walked a new corridor he noticed there were spaces on the wall which had, at one time or another, held frames or mirrors but they were long gone. He turned the corner to a long hallway with very tall windows on one side. He could see the mist again and possibly behind it was more to the forest surrounding the house. He mentally noted which turn brought him to the back wall of the house. He walked on and at the center were the stairs to the third floor tucked into a gap in the wall opposite the windows.

The handrails were covered in dust and between the wood pillars were cobwebs that swayed as he crept up. There was an open floor filled with ghostly sheet-covered furniture. A chandelier holding half-used candles lay on the floor with a long chain still connected to the ceiling. Its crystals refracted light from the large windows on either side of the room.

He sat on a couch - not bothering with the cloth - and sighed. Eventually, they'd put him up to getting all this old stuff down so that his father could sell it, although, they'd already been inside once before and said they couldn't find the stairs to this floor - or large room.

He got up and walked back down the stairs peering into the small crevice between the handrail and wall. When he reached the bottom step he noticed the indent on the edge of the left-hand wall and pulled on it. A little ring popped out and when he pulled on that, the wall rolled out. No, it was a door. He pulled it further and closed it behind him. He stepped back against the windows. The wallpaper blended seamlessly and would have been hard for him to tell that it was a door at all. He pressed the blue-colored ring back against the wall and walked back to his room.

~*~*~

Severus heard a car door slam and sat up in bed. His father was finally back with the supplies to hopefully get dinner started. His nap must have been a few hours because the sun had already dipped below the tree lines.

"Severus," his father called out to him, his echoes from one side of the house bounced off every wall to reach Severus' ears. "Now."

He swung his legs over the bed and left his room, stumbling down the dark hallway towards the front of the house. He stopped at the foot of the stairs looking down. His father was smoking again and had dropped several grocery bags on the floor. He blew the smoke out of his mouth and looked up at Severus, then motioned for the bags and pointed in the general direction of the kitchen.

Severus obeyed and carried them in, placing them on the counter - which had been dusted - and started taking out the contents. The only modern appliance in the house was the fridge, tall silver and brand new; it must have been the real major cost of the house.

His father had bought a large head of cabbage and a pack of sausages. There were matches but no coal which means they might be having cold soup for dinner again. He put everything away and came back to stand at the door.

He stepped aside as Tobias entered the house again. Severus thought about stepping out and walking around for a bit, not wanting to be in the same house as his parents, but felt the distance between his room and theirs was enough for today.

He turned to the stairs and saw his mother holding the banister looking down at him.

"Tomorrow there'll be a list of chores for you in the kitchen," she said. Her stiff voice echoed throughout the house and she kept her eyes on him waiting for a response.

He gave none and she left, unbothered. It was the way of their relationship. She'd ignore everything he said, and he'd do the same. He walked up the stairs, hearing how they creaked and groaned under his weight, echoing off walls and resonating down the hall. He headed to his room and closed the door. It was only around nine, fully dark, but he was done with the day. Dinner wasn't worth facing them and staying awake any longer wasn't worth the boredom and loneliness.

He took his pillow out of his trunk and fell onto the bed, almost disappointed it didn't break and send any amount of adrenaline or chemical of any kind to his brain. He moved his pillow, slid his arm under it, and closed his eyes.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Chapter List

Next Chapter –>

[zephyrcove]

Summer Thing by @zephyrcove

Well, I didn’t think I had time to write today but I came across @the-dream-team ‘s TPT for today, read the first few lines and RAN to see what the prompt was and write it myself. SO here’s the accidental 3 pages of summer Jily that I wrote for @petalstosarah training prompt tuesday :)

It was a pleasant sort of hot as they lay there, basking in the summer heat but protected by a gentle breeze. If he tilted his head ever so slightly he saw the curve of her face tucked into his side, a pointless attempt to shield her pale Irish skin from the beaming English sun. James held up a hand to cast a shadow on her features, admiring how his own tan skin soaked in the warmth unfazed by the pinkish burn that had begun to spread across her cheeks. They were silent, listening only to the sounds of nature around them, the whispering breeze rustling through the grass and the chirping of birds as they flitted through the trees behind his house. Their secluded spot in his expansive backyard afforded them privacy, tucked behind a mossy knoll in the lawn and far enough away from the house to not be seen by the prying eyes of his mother and brother. Not that those two didn’t know something was going on anyways; they always saw through his halfhearted excuses, his doting smile giving him away when he went off to meet her even as he said he was headed to Scrivenshaft’s for new ink. 

Her breathing evened out and he listened to her above the natural underscoring of the grounds, the rise and fall of her chest beside him lulling him further into the happiness of the summer heat. His hazel eyes flitted left again, taking in the golden glow of her auburn hair in the afternoon sun, framing her rosy, freckled cheeks perfectly as she dozed off contentedly beside him. He was happy to stay there for the rest of his life, frozen in this sliver of time where everything was perfectly, incandescently happy. 

But even as he lay basking in the August sun, he knew that this sliver of time could not last. It was August after all, and despite the joy of its sunny days, August alway brought September. And with September came the wake up call of normality, of school and Scotland and the marching on of time. September brought the end of their days in the sun, stifled by those chilled winds of their separate lives. So while he tried desperately to stay present in August, to get lost in the rays beaming on their faces and the bubble that they’ve formed in that golden hour, he could not help but frown at the prospect of September, the prospect of the end.

Hours passed like seconds as James pushed back the thoughts of September for one more day, focusing instead on the girl beside him. It’s as if August had two suns for him, her bright light compelling him to stay and bask just a moment longer in his happiness, in their bubble, in her. The real sun had begun to shift now towards evening and he knew that he needed to get the other home in from the night air. 

Moving for the first time in hours, he shifted towards her, pressing a warm kiss to her hair. The soft sound she made as she woke from her sunkissed nap tugged at his heart and he added that moment to the long list of memories he was keeping of the summer, of her. Lily’s eyes fluttered open and he watched in macro as her lashes gave way to emerald flashing in the setting sunlight. The corner of her pink lips tilted upwards as she smiled serenely at him, her mouth forming a breathy “‘lo”. 

“Hi there,” he smiled back at her, his eyes dancing across her features, aching to take in every second with her, building a composite memory of all that he could see and hear and feel so he would never be made to forget this summer. 

“Is it horrible?” she questioned, pulling his focus back to her eyes. “The sunburn, I mean, I think by now I know that you don’t find the whole of me repulsive.”

The smirk lit his face, as it was wont to do, and her teasing smile matched its energy. “Well not the whole of you I s’pose… your tits are pretty bangin.” Her eyes flamed as if you could floo through them and she slapped his cheek playfully, feigning offense.

“Damn right they are, you cheeky boy.” The hand she had swatted him with came to rest on his muscled chest and her eyelids fluttered lower, sultry as she leaned up to press her lips to his. The arm he wasn’t propped up on wrapped instinctively behind her, his strong, worn hand gripping her ribcage through the floral linen of her sundress, holding her tight to him. Her delicate fingers fisted in the fabric of his shirt she smiled into the kiss as his tongue probed at her lower lip. When her lips parted, James deepened the kiss and rolled so he was atop her, gently lowering her back to the grass and holding himself up with his forearms framing her face. He brushed back a strand of hair as he pulled back for air and she bit her lip lightly, even as their noses were still touching, breath ragged from desire. Lily reached up and wound her hand into his curls, pulling him back down to her. His body was thrumming with feeling and with want as they continued, but her moan brought him back to August, the precursor to September,  and he pressed a final kiss to her rosy lips before he pulled back enough to look at her.

James shifted onto his hips beside her, his palms pressing into the sides of his head as he exhaled and raked his fingers through his hair. He felt Lily move beside him as well, knowing that the preemptive stop was out of character for him and that she would want to know why. He felt the weight of her hand lightly on his shoulder and he looked up at her, his eyes glowing in the sunset with a painful passion. Lily’s brow was furrowed slightly, and he resisted the urge to lift his hand and smooth that wrinkle with his thumb, not wanting his feelings to mar her pretty face.

“James…”

“Lil I-” he stopped to take a breath and she watched him carefully as he shook his fingers through his hair again. “I just- I don’t want this to end.” Her eyes glistened as she let out a small sigh through her nose, her expression one that he couldn’t quite place. Not able to bear the words that he knew were to come, he spoke again quickly.

“I know this is just a summer thing, but I want you to know that when I’m with you, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. These summer months that we’ve been together have been the best I’ve ever felt.” He shifted towards her again, nearly facing her but not yet ready to look into her eyes, afraid of the roadblock he might find there. “It’s like I was in this dark room, content and cared for, but not knowing what living with the lights on was like, and then this summer you kissed me for the first time and it’s like you turned on the light. You were the light, the sun, and now I can see… everything... and I feel so much. I can’t imagine a life where I don’t get to lay here in the sun with you where I don’t get to kiss you. I can’t imagine a September where I have to pretend like this August never happened.”

Lily’s emerald eyes shone back at him as he finally met her stare, and he only hoped that the passion he’d expressed hadn’t ruined everything. Resolute to conclude his speech, he put a calloused hand on her arm, holding her attention and conveying the magnitude of his feelings as he finished. “I know what we said, about the summer, about keeping this thing between us… contained. But I am happier than I’ve ever been. I’m in love with you. And I’m not willing to just let that go without fighting for it.”

In the moment of silence, besides James’ slightly ragged breathing, anxious from the declaration, the air around them was quiet. Even the birds paused as if they too were waiting to hear her answer. The soft wind blew by for a moment, darting in between them, as they sat in the orange glow of the setting sun, so much riding on this very moment in time. 

Within seconds the fear in his chest was cast aside as Lily surged forward and kissed him passionately, her hands clutching onto his shirt, pulling her as close to him she could get. Her hair curtained around them keeping them in their bubble as he broke from the shock and met her passion enthusiastically. His hand snaked behind her neck and held her there as she confirmed all he had ever wanted. 

Having properly kissed him, she pulled back ever so slightly, her warm breath still feathering his cheeks as she whispered to him. “The only Septembers I want are with you by my side and I never August to end. If we’re just a summer thing then summer is all year long baby, because I couldn’t handle not being yours. I’ve spent years of my life trying not to fall and two months of you in the sunshine has thrown all that out the window. I love you James. I am happiest when I am with you.”

As the sun set behind them James didn’t know what he could possibly say to top the feeling of hearing Lily Evans say that, so he did all he could think of and kissed her again. The warmth of the summer night air reminded him that the sun was still there, she was right in front of him and she was blinding, and he was happy.

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Waiting for sunrise

The Starks are a little strange, that has been known for a long time. The people spreading those rumours definitely aren’t wrong, they are peculiar creatures, them Starks.

More monster Starks, because I really loved it last time. Check out the first part if you haven’t!

“You stay close to your dad now” she mumbled into Rickon’s hair. “Listen to him.”

The little boy probably didn’t listen to a word she was saying, but she said it all the same. She actually didn’t know how communication worked during the full moon transformation. Normally they communicated with each other just fine in wolf form, but she had never seen them during the full moon. She was never allowed to get close to them.

“We’ll be fine” Ned said.

“You don’t know that.”

“I have done this hundreds of times, and I’m still intact, am I not?”

Hundreds of times. It pained her to know that he had been through that hundreds of times. Twelve times a year was a lot. But he survived every time. And so did the children. When they were babies she had been able to keep them at home with her, pups were easy to handle, but as they grew she had been forced to let them go, one at a time. She had trouble accepting that Rickon would go with Ned. For the first time since his birth she would be alone on a full moon.

“You are.”

She put Rickon down and he ran outside after his siblings. He was excited for his first time with the others. Somehow he managed to forget about the horrible pain between each time.

“I’ll bring them back in the same shape in which they left you” Ned said softly.

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

She wrapped her arms around him and hid her face in his shoulder. She breathed deeply of his earthy scent. He always smelled like the woods, no matter what he had done. He hugged her back, burying one hand in her hair.

“Take care, my love” she mumbled.

“Enjoy yourself, try not to worry too much” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Against her wish he left her embrace and walked outside, closing the door behind him. She could hear him chatting with the children as they walked through the sunset towards the woods. After she had locked the door she walked to the living room and watched them until they disappeared behind the trees. And so she was alone.

She never knew how to spend her lonely hours. She couldn’t sleep, so she tried to fill the time with other activities. But it was hard to concentrate on things when her mind was elsewhere. It was with her husband and her children. She would have liked to go down to the lake, it always felt much better when she was surrounded by water. When she swam through the deepest parts of the lake nothing on land could hurt her, her worries were all gone. The darkness down there was like a comforting blanket.

But she couldn’t risk going outside. They would not be able to get to her in the lake, but on her way down she was a vulnerable prey. She wasn’t particularly afraid of death, but she knew none of them would be able to live with themselves if they killed her.

The hours passed slowly, the ticking from the clock was like a mockery. It felt like she had been alone for ages, how was it only three AM? She gave up on knitting, found her reading glasses and sat down in the kitchen to grade some tests. Math always came easy to her, even when nothing else did. And as she always had the day off after the full moon so that she could be with them she had to do that work some other time. Might as well get it done while she was waiting for morning to come.

An hour later she was pulled out of it by a sound coming from the living room. She would know that bark anywhere. Why had they come so close to the house?

She stood up and saw that yes, the whole pack had gathered on the veranda. There was no reason for that. There was no prey that close to the house. Except for her, of course. But they couldn’t get to her as long as she was inside and they were not.

From a distance one could probably mistake them for wolves, but with a closer look one could see that something was very off about them. Some off their features were too human, they could rise to their hind legs and their front paws were more like hands than paws. 

She studied them through the window, Ned bared his teeth at her and growled. When he did so the others noticed her and followed his lead. All six of them looked at her and hated her. There was nothing of her family in them at the moment. Those were wild animals, not the husband and children she loved. But it was a relief to see that they were all there and no one seemed to be hurt.

“Growl as much as you like, you’re not getting to me.”

They loved her, they just didn’t remember it at the moment. That was fine, most of the time they knew exactly who she was. Most of the time she was in charge.And it wasn’t like they could help it.

As if Rickon had heard her thoughts he leapt towards the window.

“You’re so dramatic.”

She saw them like that all the time, it was the way they looked at her that was different. Ned was basically a very large lapdog normally, very cuddly.

“I’ll get back to my thing, see you in a few hours” she said, turning her back to them to walk back to the kitchen.

She didn’t hear them anymore after that, so she assumed they wandered back into the woods.

When she had graded the last test it wasn’t long until the night was finally over. She couldn’t express the happiness she felt at the notion of that soon they would be back, soon her wait was over. 

And not long after the sunrise she heard a knock on the door. Finally. It was like a stone had been lifted off her chest. They were home. They were safe. And it was a month until it would happen next time. And they were just in time for breakfast.

She opened the door and found that two people had been added. Somewhere alon gthe way they had found Lyanna and Jon.

“Mom!” Rickon shouted and threw himself into her arms.

She scooped him up and held him to her. He was alive and alright, he had survived his first night out. He was back along with the  rest of them.

“Did everything go well, sweetheart?” she asked, kissing the top of his curly head.

“As well as it can go” Ned said in his son’s stead.

He seemed to have aged ten years. All of them were tired and torn, really.

“Is there anything to eat?” Sansa asked. “I’m really hungry.”

“I prepared breakfast, it’s in the dining room.”

Sansa, Arya, Bran, Robb, and Jon quietly slipped past her. They were never very talkative the morning after. They needed a meal, a shower, and some sleep, then they were back to their normal selves.

“I hope you don’t mind me and Jon” Lyanna said with a smile. “I don’t know how we ended up here, but we could use some food before making our way home.”

“It’s fine, the more the merrier” Catelyn replied.

She put Rickon down after having kissed the top of his head once more.

“Go and have breakfast with your siblings, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

He yawned before doing as he was told.

“You can’t have been with Ned and the kids for long though” she said, turning to Lyanna again.

“How do you know that?”

“They came to visit me in my loneliness around four, and I counted six, not eight.”

She realised that maybe it would have been better not to say that when Ned seemed horrified by the notion of that she had seen them.

“I’m so sorry, Cat.”

“It’s fine, Ned, you can’t hurt me when I’m inside the house.”

“But still–“

“No, I will not talk about this. I’m not afraid of you, I see you like that all the time. If anything it was nice to know that all six of you were alright.”

“Stop bitching, Ned, Cat is a monster too” Lyanna sighed. “You’re not married to some frail human.”

Ned muttered something about frailty before walking inside. He would be fine once he ate and got some sleep into his system. They went through that every time. He was grumpy and his self loathing was turned up to the highest level, but then he returned to normal.

“How can you stand living with him?” Lyanna asked as they followed Ned and the kids inside.

“I’m no angel either.”

Some would probably say they are the opposite of God’s creatures, that they were devil spawn. She didn’t care, she didn’t believe in the humans’s God. She had gods of her own, gods who did not shun her kind.

Catelyn yawned as she made her sandwich. She had been too tense to feel tired, but the relief of having her family back with her also brought the need to sleep.

“What are you gonna be for Halloween?” Lyanna asked.

“What?”

“What are you gonna be for Halloween? It’s only two weeks left.”

Halloween was all day, every day for them, so they never bothered with it. Why dress up as monsters when they could turn into wolves and fish people? There was no point. And they lived too far away from town to get any trick or treaters.

“We don’t do Halloween.”

“Why not?”

“We have no reason to.”

“Now that’s not true, darling, you have been going on about how much you want to be Ariel for Halloween for ages” Ned said calmly before taking a sip from his tea.

And there he was, her Ned. She loved him, but she also hated him.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about Halloween, because I will have drowned you before then” Catelyn said, giving him her sweetest smile.

He stood no chance against her in the water.

“Who’s Ariel?” Rickon asked.

She saw that question as a sign of that she had done a good job.

“She’s a mermaid, and she has red hair. Just like Mom” Bran told him.

That, on the other hand, was a failure.

“But she doesn’t have any scales” Sansa said. “She’s just a person with a fish tail instead of legs.”

The kids couldn’t fully turn into a mermaid the way she could. They just grew scales and gills. So they could breathe underwater and looked a lot like fish, but they got no tails. It was interesting.

When she got pregnant with Robb by accident she had had no idea about how he would turn out. There were no records of mermaids and werewolves having children together, they usually just kept to their own kinds, so there was no way of knowing what they would be like.

They had some of her, and some of Ned. They were fully werewolf when they turned, but they had to fight a lot harder to do it than Ned. For him it was as easy as changing clothes.

“Which is nowhere near as cool” Arya finished.

Catelyn could always count on her girls.

“You should do Halloween, it would be perfect” Lyanna continued. “Like you have a house on a hill by a dark lake a bit away from town. And you’re already like local cryptids. If you did some decorating and dressed up you could own it. Halloween was basically made for you.”

“What do you mean by ‘local cryptids’?” Ned asked.

“People think we’re weirdos” Robb informed him. “They know something is wrong with us. They just don’t know exactly what.”

“There’s nothing wrong with us, Robb. We’re just not exactly like them” Catelyn said.

“Beautiful, Mom, but it doesn’t change that they can sense that we’re not like them. We might look normal, but we live in a secluded place and there has been rumours about the Stark family for generations. They know something is up here.”

“True. They say things about us” Sansa said.

Catelyn frowned. She had realised people probably thought they were a little strange, she didn’t care about that. But she didn’t want that to go out over her children. They had never had any problems with what they were, she didn’t want them to start feeling ashamed of themselves because of what others said.

“Do your friends say things about you?” she asked, hoping that the anger didn’t show in her voice.

“No. But people who don’t know us do.”

“It’s fun” Robb smiled. “Hearing them speculate and get it wildly wrong. They should have guessed werewolf by now, considering we’re gone a day every month. The day after the full moon.”

“We can forgive them for not guessing mermaid, though” Arya said. “That’s harder.”

“And you have no reason to worry, Aunt Cat, you’re everyone’s favourite teacher anyway” Jon informed her.

“I’m not worried about myself, I’m worried about you.”

Catelyn couldn’t have cared less about herself, she would be fine no matter what. Same went for Ned, and Lyanna. They were adults. It was her babies she was worried for. Her children and her nephew.

Robb laughed.

“You clearly need some sleep, Mom. We’re fine.”

He was probably right. She had been up for just as long as the rest of them, she was exhausted. Her mind was spinning out of her control.

Rickon had fallen asleep in his chair, his half eaten sandwich left on the plate before him.

“Good night, everyone” she said, picking him up.

“I meant it when I said you should consider Halloween!” Lyanna shouted after her when she carried her son up the stairs.

“Yes, yes, I know, sleep well!”

She got pyjamas on a very grumpy and uncooperative Rickon, and he was asleep again before she had pulled his blanket over him. Her fierce little wolf. She kissed his forehead, made sure he was comfortable before going into the bathroom.

On complete autopilot she brushed her teeth and then stumbled into bed. Ned wasn’t long after her. She could feel him wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

“I cleaned up after breakfast” he said.

“I love you” Catelyn sighed.

“I love you, too” he mumbled into her hair.

“Thanks for not dying.”

“I’m not going to die. And neither are the kids.”

“Good. I don’t want to be a sad monster lady living on my own in a scary, secluded house. People would probably think I killed you.”

She felt more than heard him chuckle.

“You’d still be everyone’s favourite teacher, though.”

She was quiet, felt herself drifting off to sleep. But then Lyanna’s words popped up in her brain.

“You know, darling, maybe we should do Halloween.”

They could decorate the whole house and invite the town. It would be good, actually. And fun.

No answer came from Ned. He was already asleep. Her poor husband, it had been a rough night for him. Catelyn was also fast asleep not a minute later. But in that minute she had decided upon what she would dress up as. Ned would love it.

[poppysicle]

A Late Night Snack - Marichat

I was inspired by @cat-saturn‘s art of Marinette and Chat Noir eating spaghetti. This is my first time writing any Miraculous Ladybug Fics, but I couldn’t help it and it’s been years since I’ve written so I’m rusty and I apologize!

It was later than she expected it to be.

All the tossing and turning throughout the night kept her awake, the moon continuously shining in the bedroom from the window. It felt like the night was going for an eternity. Marinette sat up in her bed, the sheets falling from her chest to her waist, her hands coming up to her face so she could rub her eyes with her palms. Reaching over to the side table beside her bed, she unhooked her cellphone from the charger to read the time.

12:13 AM

Marinette groaned as she fell back with her head hitting the pillow. She glanced at her window, only seeing the streetlamps glowing and the building across the way from the third floor and up. It was quiet, not a sound in the streets. She finished her patrol a mere three hours ago and she almost wished she stayed out as long as Chat Noir planned on.

She pushed the duvet off her body and swung her legs off the bed to stand up, immediately as if on cue, her stomach rumbled. Marinette thought about what she had eaten today but realized she forgot to have dinner before the patrol and was too drained to cook after. The walk to the kitchen was quiet but she turned on a lamp that left a light glow into the apartment. Her hands reached for the window to open it to bring in the cool Paris air before retrieving the pots and pans she needed to make some spaghetti.

The pot of water began to boil in no time as she prepped the noodles and started to make the sauce. The apartment began to smell of the delicious home cooked sauce her father taught her to make before she moved out for the days they went out on their date nights or group dinners with their own friends.

It was an easy dish to make and one that never took long to make. Marinette realized she might’ve made too much in the end as she drained the noodles. The sound echoed in the living space as she placed the noodles back in the pot and took out a plate.

A sudden movement caused her to jump as she turned towards the window to see a familiar figure with bright green eyes. Chat Noir sat on the window seal, smiling at her as he waved with his baton in hand. She let go of the breath she had been holding, this was nothing new with this feline and Marinette couldn’t help but smile.

“Good evening, Marinette. Sorry to barge in without question,” he greeted sheepishly, “but I could smell your cooking from a mile away!”

Marinette laughed quietly, “I’m assuming you’re hungry too?”

Chat Noir nodded immediately with his blonde, short hair bouncing slightly in motion and glanced at the singular plate in her hand, “Happen to have an extra plate to spare?”

“For you? Always.”

He beamed at her response and watched her grab another plate from the cabinet before filling them both with noodles and placing sauce on top. She handed him a plate with silverware and he took a spot beside the window. Marinette jumped onto the kitchen counter across from him and grabbed the plate before taking her first bite.

They both let out a happy sigh as they ate quietly together. Chat leaned back into the counter as he stood, looking outside the window at the city. Marinette noticed his eyes and tried to follow his eyes but the wall blocked her vision.

“How is your night going?” She asked, bright blue eyes on him.

“Eh, nothing too bad. A cat was stuck in a tree, someone with a dead phone was lost, and a young tourist was upset about missing her parents.” Chat shrugged before meeting her eyes. “It was quite boring tonight.”

Marinette nodded, “I can understand that. Was Ladybug not on patrol with you tonight?”

The man shook his head with the jingle of his bell, “She was earlier but had to leave early. Now it’s just little ol’ me, but I don’t think I’m doing the best job if I let myself get distracted by some pasta.”

They both laughed and Marinette shrugged, “I’m sure she doesn’t mind you taking a small break anyway.”

“I can only hope so!” He replied but not before furrowing his eyebrows. “By the way, why are you up right now?”

She paused, not daring to look at him before pursing her lips. “I couldn’t sleep, I guess I have a lot on my mind right now.”

“You seem like a busy person.”

“With too many responsibilities,” Marinette frowned. “I wish I could have a break but I don’t recall ever having one longer than an hour in the past five years.”

Chat frowned with her, “What’s got you so busy?”

The blue-haired girl shook her head, “It’s nothing crazy. Maybe I’m just bad at time management?”

“Well, if you ever need anyone to lighten the load I can help out! Or, I’m sure you’ve got some great friends who can help out.”

“I don’t think so, I personally haven’t been the greatest friend.”

She thought back to her time in high school, the constant lying and disappearing. The hiding so many secrets she couldn’t bear to hold on own, until Alya gave her a chance to open up. She told Alya everything and a little bit of weight went off her shoulders. But, it still didn’t help that she felt like a horrible friend to everyone; including the one she loved.

Adrien had tried many times to give her a chance to open up, but it made her closet into her own mind more and more. She didn’t think she’d ever have a chance to be with him and give him the love he deserved due to her lack of existing around everyone. It was hard to let him go as well as some of the other people in her life. It was what she thought was best and she almost did the same with Chat.

But, he wouldn’t allow her to hide away and he was right to do so. She was his partner, right-hand man, and world. Marinette realized she still needed him no matter what even though she said some mean things. In the end, that is what truly kept her up all night. Almost losing the last person she needed the most. Yet, here he is, not speaking horribly of Ladybug and not letting anything bother him because he knows her so well and how much he means to her.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Chat broke her out of her thoughts. “We all say things we don’t mean, but all you can do is apologize for it and allow yourself to grow from it.”

“You say that like you have experience from it.”

“Well, I’ve been around someone I love long enough to understand that these things happen. It gets the best of everyone, whether it be a parent, friend, lover..”

Marinette nodded, “I guess so. But, what if they don’t forgive you?”

“You just have to give them time,” he replied with a soft smile. “In the end, that’s all what it’s about, right? How much time you take to apologize and how long it will take for them to heal.”

“You’re right.” She responded, glancing at the sky again where the moon sat beautifully. “It can never be too late, right?”

“Never.”

Chat Noir stared at her with a smile and she felt herself under his gaze and placed her focus on her noodles twirling around her fork. His eyes soon left her and went back to his own plate  of noodles. Marinette and Chat sat quietly together until their plates emptied. She watched him rinse the plate in her sink before placing it down and drying his own hands.

“Well, I should be heading out. I still have another area to cover.”

Marinette didn’t allow herself to look disappointed as she set her bowl down beside her. She jumped off the counter, her long hair bouncing with her.

“Thank you for stopping by,” she said. “And thanks for the advice.”

Chat Noir winked, “You can count on me, Marinette! But I hope you take the advice.”

“You can count on me.” Marinette repeated back with a wink.

The feline laughed before he jumped from the window and went out into the dark of Paris, leaving Marinette on her own. She cleaned the pots, pans, and plates before heading back into her room. She found her phone again, scrolling through her contacts. Her heart hammered in her chest, wishing she would have done this sooner.

But, this was the first step.The name she needed popped up with an old picture of the blonde boy beside the name and she pressed the texting bubble, her fingers hovered over the keyboard. You can do this Marinette. It’s never too late. She took a deep breath and began to type.

Hey, I know it’s been awhile..