#meant to post this on Father’s Day but my house caught on fire lol

[deyageka]

Belated nonsensical Father’s Day comic starring an armed turtle, someone fast, and the worst dad ever

(/hj)

[thattimdrakeguy]

Prompt: Bruce hugs Tim after Tim fought with Jack

Alright, fellas, gonna be honest. Got way into the whys and hows of the actual fight with Jack over the actual comforting hug with Bruce.

It’s in there, oh boy it’s there, but I’m curious to see if this thing even fits into a Tumblr post cause I don’t know what the limits are actually.

So uh,

Trigger Warnings for: Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Mentions of Drugs, Threats of the Police (is that a trigger warning? cause I feel like it should be nowadays), traumatization, and potentially more. Oh, and Alfred has a gun but idk if that falls into any triggers.

It’s not a “Jack is evil” fiction. I tried to stay away from that. But I didn’t try to not make him do something I did feel like he’d do at the same time. He never hits Tim, I’ll say that.

Hoping it’s not too bad. I feel it’s half decent. So ayy.

Wasn’t sure what to call it.

Maybe “Assumptions and Consequences” idk.

Also probably has lots of typos and grammar mistakes so sorry for that lol.

--

Tim Drake loved his dad. His biological mother had already died, and Jack was all Tim had. Dana Winters was only Jack’s girlfriend who was wanting to become Tim’s mother, but it hadn't happened quite yet. So Tim only had one parent left, and man, did it suck to have a parent sometimes when you’re Robin. All the lying from having to be Robin drove Tim mad some days. Plus neither of them were quite compatible with one another. Honestly how were they even related?

Jack thought Tim was a bad kid. Well, he didn’t, but look at the evidence. Tim kept sneaking out, leaving school early, getting into fights. That was a kid acting out if Jack ever knew, and Jack would blame himself, until he couldn’t be bothered about it. Was it Jack’s fault? Jack had a habit of forgetting it a day or two after an accident. So he never really did improve yet, despite saying he would.

But the thing was, Tim wasn’t a bad kid. He was a great kid; a really great kid. Tim Drake was Robin the Boy Wonder. Not that he was the most talented, or most efficient at being Robin, but Tim filled the job out well. Being a good kid as Robin, meant having to be a bad kid as Tim though. When Tim saw bad things happening, Tim had to disappear, for Robin to take a beating, and for Tim to keep the bruises.

One day it got too much for Jack to handle. Tim wasn’t even home yet, and Jack’s face was red. The man of the house kept pacing back and forth really considering what he had to do to contain Tim this time. In his sea of tension he started biting down on his fist to get out some of the anger but it wasn’t stopping. What would Tim’s mother think of Tim right now? All those years of Janet protecting Tim and coddling him, and all it took was--what a few years for Tim to turn into this? Janet would’ve been so disappointed in him.

Jack sat down in his recliner past midnight to wait for his son, and only seconds after the creaking sound of his chair did he hear the doorknob twisting on the opening door that must’ve been his son. Must’ve been a lazy day for Tim. Normally Tim would come in through the window of his bedroom. Jack was actually listening for a creak on the walls. After a quick sigh that came deep within the chest, Jack tossed down his remote swiftly onto the table making a loud smacking sound, as he stood up and turned around.

It was darkly lit like a shadowy alley way in the house. All Jack wanted to do was scare the crap out of Tim. He didn’t care how small Tim was, or how young he was, if Tim was so willing to let Jack be scared, Jack thought it only made sense for him to scare Tim right back to make it only fair. Jack grabbed a flashlight on the coffee table and shined it in the eyes of the small figure that stood right in his doorway. And he made sure to make himself seem as big as he possibly could. Standing up straight, broadening his shoulders, and holding his flashlight up higher.

He prepared his voice as something similar to Clint Eastwood. All he did all day was watch movies and take phone calls, and it really showed. “Tim, do you mind telling me, why in God’s green hell are you so damn f--” Jack quickly squinted his eyes. This wasn’t Tim he was looking at. It was Ariana Dzerchenko, and she was shaking in her boots, while Jack seemed disappointed it wasn’t his son. “What the hell are doing in my damn house?! You’re telling me at 3 A-#@!@#-M you don’t have anything better to do, then open my door when I never even gave you a key? My son isn’t even here. You trying to steal from me?” Jack went over to grab her arm after the brash accusation. “Get over here, I’m calling your Uncle.”

Ariana moved her arm away and backed outside, still shaking. She stared at Jack scared, and concerned. Ariana could tell he was disappointed for the wrong reasons

“Look, it’s either in my house and I call your uncle, and you take another foot and it’s the police.” grunted Jack. He stopped bothering doing the gravelly voice, but he was still oh-so-damned pissed. After Ariana didn’t bother making any move of any sorts, Jack relented and tried to talk a little more normal. “Do you know where Tim is?” he asked like it was only the afternoon and he happened to pass her in the park.

“N-no.” was the only word Ariana could manage to get passed her lips.

Jack’s brow lowered, and angled. “Then why are you here, Miss?” He took a step closer to Ariana. “And be honest.”

“T-Tim, uh, he, uh, he asked me to bring back this and put it on the kitchen counter.” the girl held up the house key. “And all he said to me was that he was going to be late. Really late, and that he didn’t want his dad to worry again.”

All Ariana could see of Jack was the way the shadows contoured around his aging face. Making him not even look human. It made him look paler, with black eyes and a still face that would barely move except when it got angrier.

“He tell you where he was?” Jack asked again as he turned his head to the left. His left ear was his good ear.

“No, sir. He just sounded...swollen-y.”

“Swollen?”

“Like he just got hit in the face again.”

“Did you hear anything else?”

“A really loud engine and some gunshots later when I called him. Look, Mister, I’m really worried about him too. I didn’t even want to come over here--but I was just--I was just hoping he’d be here again maybe. Do you know what he could be doing?”

“Hell no. At this point my son doesn’t tell me anything. All I can guess is that the son of mine, I spent all that money on, is dealing drugs, like my money isn’t good enough for him.”

“Drugs? Timmy? Drugs? I’m not his parent or anything, I’m just his friend, but Tim would never do anything like that. I think he’s in trouble in another way.”

“That’s what I thought, but somehow every week I’m getting a call from the school counselor telling me that my small-fry son is dealing with a bruise of some kind. They found him passed out in school one time, and I found dirt marks on the outside of his window. What kind of normal former-board-school-student do you hear about ending up like that?”

“But Tim went on for hours one time about how he hates drugs. He saw a kid with a bag of something and wouldn’t stop ranting for what felt like an hour. He--”

“Ari--”

“--wouldn’t ever--”

“You can go home, Ariana! And thank you for your time. I won’t tell the police, or your uncle. But just go home now.”

“I--” Ariana closed her eyes and realized she better just go. “Okay. Okay, I’ll...go. Just tell me Tim’s okay when he comes back. And--if it actually ends up being drugs...tell him--tell him we’re over.” she fled the scene not being able to handle it anymore.

Jack didn’t answer back, but he knew that she knew he wasn’t going to tell her anything that was going to happen. Once he heard a ruffling in the bush right where Tim’s room would be, he knew that the boy came home. Taking another chest deep breath he slowly walked to that wall where he saw Tim, and he used the flashlight on him for real this time.

That middle parted bowl cut, and baby-face were impossible to misidentify. His already large eyes grew larger and he looked like he saw an entire army of ghosts coming for his head. Sneaking into his own house was something he’s done dozens of times. Tim loved sneaky time, but this time he thought he really messed it up. His Robin career and life flashed right in front of his eyes.

Nothing in Jack’s mind resembled pleasant. Everything was fire and disappointment. Actually seeing his son in the act of sneaking around outside, when he should be in bed made everything he thought felt true as the solution to a math problem. Just like the outlaws in the westerns he watched, Jack narrowed his eyes as he paid attention to his target. He really needed to get outside himself fast.

Tim gasped, as his mind had no thoughts besides a realization that his dad finally caught him sneaking in. “Dad?!” he uttered before being grabbed by the collar of his sweater.

“So you finally decided that my house is better than whatever alley you've been laying in every night?” pushing himself closer to Tim, Jack made it so the only thing he could see of Tim was the panic in his baby blue eyes.

Meanwhile, all Tim could see was the anger in his dad’s face. “W-what are you talking about?!” Tim’s voice cracked. He knew his dad thought something was going on, but he never imagined it’d be this intense. He could break the grip on Jack at any time, but would Jack find that even more suspicious? Tim still had Dana thinking he was too small to play football. Could Jack believe Tim would be able to take down someone over a foot his own size?

“The drugs, Tim. The drugs.” The hoarseness to Jack’s voice was painful. If his hand was around Tim’s neck and not just his collar, he’d be strangling the kid. “I've been staying up each night for the past three days waiting for you to come home. To have a fatherly chat, but all I ever hear is you sneaking up the wall, and I’ve had enough of that. I try to be a father, and you just try to treat me like an obstacle. Is all I am to you, is in your way, Tim? I paid for your freaking ninja camp, and it ends within a week of you being there. If the people running the camp didn’t end up in jail, I’d have the mind to ask them what you exactly did there. A fake piercing, and fake stubble to look tougher? I’d be real curious to know where exactly a 14-year-old kid can buy a fake stubble.”

Tim was really doing his best to try and seem calm. If he didn’t everything would get much worse. Then it donned on him that he was treating his own dad like he would a master criminal in the middle of a breakdown. “Dad, I really know this looks bad. I really do. Trust me. But this isn’t at all like what it seems.”

“Answer me immediately: If I searched your room would I find drugs? Narcotics? Booze?”

Booze. Tim could smell the booze in his dad’s breath. If Tim showed up just a bit earlier it wouldn’t have been this bad. And you know Tim would beat himself up over that when he shouldn’t.

“No, you wouldn’t find anything of the sort. I need you to listen,  I’m going to need you to let go of me, and put down the light. It’s hurting me.” Another half second passed where Tim’s brain suddenly tried to process this. And like someone running away from the scene, it hurt too bad to stay on it. “I don’t deal drugs...I--I stop people from selling drugs!” Even in a moment like this, not having to lie for once felt like a weight off of Tim’s shoulders.

The man standing above Tim was about to blind him with that flashlight, but he eventually dropped Tim down onto the wet and muddy grass below them. Where he left him lay and to get mud all over his clothes without any sense of regret. Jack could only think of his late wife. Which seemed rare ever since he got to know Dana better. Strangely, this Janet that Jack was remembering seemed to be a lot more on his side than anyone that knew them back then would remember.

“Don’t talk down to me.” said Jack in an uncomfortably soft voice. “I let you stay in my house because I loved you enough to let you. Your room is my property, everything in there was bought with my money.” The pace he spoke was slow and methodical. His mind was quiet and released. “I am going to look in your room. You’re going to stay here, and when I come back to you. I’ll decide then what’s going to happen to you.”

Should Tim speak? Should he not? What was better right then? When he heard Jack talk about his room, he wasn’t worried about the punishment he’d have to deal with. All he was worried about was any proof about being Robin. That wasn’t just Tim’s own secret to keep. It was a secret he had to share, and was honored to share.

“I--I can’t let you do that, sir.” another voice crack from the kid.

“I bet I know why.” spoke Jack with full eye contact. To him he wasn’t lying to himself. It was a fact he had to find the evidence for. “Let it be known by the way, that I don’t hate you. I’m scared for you. But you also make it awfully hard to love you lately.”

That was one hit Tim couldn’t dodge.

Being 3 AM not too many people were able to witness any of this happening, except for one particular neighbor in Alfred Pennyworth. He was tidying up around the side windows on the second floor when he could see some sort of commotion at the Drake residence. Using binoculars like a bird watcher that exclusively looks for Robins, he saw Tim on the ground and Tim’s dad above him. That wasn’t going to fly past anyone in Stately Wayne Manor.

Very quickly he let Bruce know that Tim needed help and why. It’d only take a few minutes for him to return to his home, but it felt crucial. Tim needed a father figure that felt like he’d protect him, and not vilify him. In no world is Batman the best for the job of dad, but he gave it his best unlike Jack.

Outside it was wet from the harsh rain earlier in the evening. Most of the lights in the neighbors were out, signifying they had gone to sleep. A foot felt like a yard when everything was so quiet and dark.

So though the owner of the manor wouldn’t exactly appreciate it, Alfred brought a small fire-arm in the inner pocket of his suit jacket just in case things went worse. Very quickly he rushed his way over to Tim, making it just after Jack entered the Drake residence again. Tim still seemed in such a shock that he didn’t even try to get himself up.

In his head, Tim meant to go after his dad, but his mental legs just gave out on him. Leaving him to sit in the mud as he panics about what could happen next. He recounted where all of his Robin stuff was. During his messy messy thoughts he was almost certain that it was all on, wearing it under his clothes. Confidence was never Tim’s highest attribute though. Normally it was his perceptiveness, but it was failing him. He was lucky he could still recognize Alfred.

“Alfred?” said a confused Tim who was dazed more and more as the night went on.

“Young Master Timothy, are you alright?” greeted the Butler as he helped Tim up to see his feet. “I didn’t see everything, but I saw everything I needed to.” He quickly noticed a bruise on Tim’s cheek. “Young sir, did he do this to you, or was it another person?”

“Who’s ‘he’?” Tim’s eyes widened and looked past Alfred. “Dad?”

Alfred may have been an older man, but he wasn’t a man you should bother trying to stand taller than. The quiet, noble man turned around promptly and stood his ground and he saw fit. Only reaching his hand in, just in case, with no intent on striking first. When Alfred turned around to see the returning Jack, there wasn’t any cowardice within him. Former British Secret Service agent Alfred Pennyworth could get the drop on anyone if he tried hard enough, besides those with powers. Tim’s dad wasn’t someone with powers, so Alfred had his number ready just in case.

Jack on the other hand only had a vague sense of right and wrong keeping him from hurting anyone. Just sick of the lies, and obvious sneaking around. Whoever thought Jack was a good dad never really saw enough of him.

“Who--Are you--are you Wayne’s butler? Did he call you?” Jack  asked, pointing at Tim. “The kid’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. He’s just being sensitive.”

“Jack Drake, I want to let you know that I am not a blind man, nor an easily fooled man. And that all I see when I look into the eye’s a man such as you, that all I see is an inner-pain that I’ve seen nearly everyday since my eyes could first see, and my mind could first retain thought. All you do is feel bitter, distract yourself, and in the moments where you can’t, you take it out on everyone else. If I look at the ground behind me, I can see a very brave boy have a fear so bad that he didn’t even want to get out of the mud. Either meaning he’s about to be killed, or he’s being traumatized, and I don’t see a gun in your hand. So sit down and get some rest, and think about it. While I’ll take young Timothy with me where he’ll be safe for the night, sir.”

“You know I’m not going to let you do that.” growled Jack.

“Then allow me to let you know that in my inner jacket pocket I have a firearm that you know I’ll use. Not to aim at your head, but below the waist where, if you don’t already know,  it won’t count for attempted murder.”

“I’ll call the cops on you then, you bum. You’ve freeloaded on Wayne before that man could walk. To this city you’re nobody but the guy that used to wipe Wayne’s ass.”

“I’m mighty gracious I don’t have any worry of convincing you of anything. The reputation I actually do have serves me enough just fine. As for...your reckless statement on the police, I should let you know we have cameras showing everything that happened. You wouldn’t be the one winning in court.” Alfred didn’t look pleased when he took another glance at Tim who was struggling to process any of this. Alfred was there in the same home Tim was in when he found out his mother died. This wasn’t something Alfred enjoyed doing. “You can come with me now, Timothy. We’ll figure this out, alright?”

Surprisingly, Jack let them walk away. Jack wasn’t an evil man. But not being evil doesn’t equal being good. Life was just complicated, and so was he. Did he regret his actions? Well, he isn’t a monster. Of course he did--Well, maybe he did. Who really freaking knew. But did he know why exactly he did if he had? Not quite. Was he going to get better? There was going to be a while before that’d happen.

Inside Tim’s own heart he felt dead. The remains of his biological family seemed to break down into crumbs of dust. Where was home anymore? Jack didn’t say he wasn’t allowed to come back home, but the message was made plenty clear that he couldn’t go back home easily. Actually, Tim didn't know if he wanted to go home after that. Even for such a great detective, Tim had no clue what his dad was going to be like after that.

Mud. Ew, the mud. It was all over Tim’s clothes and hands from his fall. It certainly wasn’t going to help Tim’s mood.

“Young Master Timothy, I think it’d be in your best interest to get a bath and relax. You can give me your clothes for me to wash, and I’m sure we have some of your clothes around here somewhere for you to lay around in.” he stated as he opened the door to Stately Wayne Manor for Tim.

Tim barely said any words, and said none of all during the walk to the Manor. “Oh, okay, Alfie.” Even his tone of voice seemed down on himself.

Seeing Tim so frozen stiff over it was breaking Alfred’s heart bit by bit. He’s seen Tim shake in fear, he’s seen him panic, but never frozen. This really was different. It was obvious it would be, but seeing it in person is always a different feeling. As they went up stairs you wouldn’t know Tim was an athlete. Alfred saw how natural Tim was at acrobatics in front of his own eyes, and now he saw the young boy struggling going up stairs.

Batman wasn’t able to make it till after Tim was in the bath. So he’d have to wait a bit to speak with him. He took off his cowl and how upset he was, was immediately evident. He had a stubble covered frown, and was breathing heavily, which was odd since he came home in the Batwing. As someone who stops domestic disturbances like this when he has to, he was fuming.

“We have to do something about Jack Drake, Alfred.” said Bruce drinking the tea Alfred gave them, as they waited for Tim in the kitchen.

“Something involving the courts may I assume?” assumed Alfred.

Bruce shook his head. “No. At least not yet, unfortunately.”

“Sir, but we have the evidence. There’s no doubt we’d win.”

“He’s still Tim’s father. That means something, and is a bond that’s hard to break, and shouldn’t be broken.”

“If I was only a second or two late, I would say it’s accurate to assume Mister Jack Drake was going to strike Timothy. He reeked of liquor and tossed him onto the ground.”

“But he didn’t hit him. Sounding harsh isn’t my imperative. But accusing a child of doing something they didn’t do, wouldn’t classify as anything that’d allow Tim to leave. And again, Tim and Jack are family. We shouldn’t break a family. That isn’t a good goal to set.”

“Are you really defending a man that didn’t bother to raise his own son, that he threatened with boarding school over something he should be more sympathetic with, and berates him when Tim actually acts his own age? People can change, Master Wayne, but when people are constantly given chances, those chances should run out eventually.”

“What would you suggest, Alfred? I’m doing what's best for Tim in my eyes. If we took him from his dad he’d hate us forever. Once Tim is able to function properly again, he’ll just look at it like another incident in his life. He’ll want to go back whether he wants to or not, because in his heart he loves his father.”

“Please forgive me for what I’m about to say, Master Wayne. But your over glorification of genetic parents because of the death of your own seems to have left you forgetting that whether biological or not, your family isn’t truly who’s related to you by blood.” Alfred sighed having to speak in such a rough way. “You’ve brought in Master Grayson as your ward, and Master Todd as your son. Family is who you bring in close and who you choose to stay with, and if you all care for one another. Sir, you know this best. And I’m not forgetful that they had no parents left when you brought them in, but don’t forget that just because they live right beside your home that damage isn’t being done to a child.”

The chair Bruce was sitting on squeaked as he moved back to stand up. He made his way up the stairs to where Tim was getting a bath. He took a deep breath, and took a moment to consider his actions, and knocked on the door.

“Tim--Tim are you decent? I’d like to speak to you about what happened. Now, it doesn’t have to be right this moment. Take any moment you need. But we need to know if--”

In a quick unhesitating moment, the door opened, and Tim never looked smaller to Bruce. The vulnerable look in his eye mixed with the oversized sweater he had on. The kid was still damp from a poor job drying himself, but it didn’t stop him from leaping at Bruce and putting his arms around him for a hug. Tim rested his head on Bruce’s chest as it was the highest he could reach, and he squeezed as hard as he could. A slight tear went down Tim’s face. Did he hear Alfred and Bruce? In the moment it didn’t matter, and Bruce hugged him back in a fatherly embrace. Neither of them knew what to do.

As the hug continued on longer Bruce lifted Tim into the air in a similar matter as Jack and Tim as Tim went to make sure they were okay during No Man’s Land. Would Tim remember that and choose to stay with Jack? Did Tim still believe Jack would get better? Or would Bruce’s rare act of physical affection convince Tim to tell everything he knew to make a case to stay with Bruce? Did it even matter yet?

It felt like a part of Tim’s life died, but as an era of your life is killed, another is born. Something new you have to make the best out of. Maybe the era will stay and it’ll get better, or maybe not. The future was a mystery, and could be scary. If it wasn’t then people wouldn’t be pretending to be fortune tellers. Sometimes though, it’s best just to remember and focus on the present.

“I love you, R--um, Tim. I hope you know this. I care about you, and want to protect you for as long as I can, and if needed I’m absolutely willing to--” Bruce was cut off by a still tearful Tim.

“I love you too, Bruce.”

[avenger-hawk]

Tagged by @altraes (thank you, it was fun to do this~)

List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

                                                       *

(I wrote the first paragraphs because my first lines alone don’t make much sense lol)

1- ACQUIESCENCE (Minato/Itachi) my first fic ever. darkish but just a little, angsty. I’m proud of it cause another author wrote a sequel to it.

 to ac·qui·esce: to accept, agree, or allow something to happen by staying silent or by not arguing. A flurry of leaves, swept away by the autumn wind, caught the Hokage's attention while he took off his large hat. That time of the year should have been warmer.

2- THE WILL OF FIRE (Shiita, Danzo/Shisui, Danzo/Itachi) This was dark and shiita fans didn’t like it lol.

 Just like his owner, Danzo's studio was dark and dusty. The man didn't look as old as Hiruzen, but he was twice as scary; thus would think a boy of Itachi's age. Not him. He was not allowed to be afraid.

3- WHAT HE WANTED (Itasasu) Even tho I rewrote it cause I didn’t like how I initially characterized them and their dynamics this is my most popular fic. Maybe because it’s a post-ending, canon divergent, fix-it kind of story. Maybe because it’s Itasasu and I put so much love into writing their dynamics and, also, in giving Sasuke a good ending since canon didn’t do him justice.

Sasuke is where everybody wants him to be: in Konoha. With the battle and the arm he also lost the urge to fight. He's had enough of traveling. He's tired of chasing and being chased. So tired that even if he meant every word about starting a revolution, being the Hokage and build a new era, he had wondered, though only for a moment, if he would be able to really accomplish such tasks all by himself.

4- IN POWER WE ENTRUST THE LOVE ADVOCATED (Itasasu) THis is my second most popular fic. This one too was written after the ending and tried to give Sasuke justice. I planned to write a sequel but I got busy with other projects and lost interest in it.

The gates open, letting the shinobi in after a successfully completed mission. Being on duty the following day Sasuke declines his team mates' proposal to have dinner together, the reddish sunset light forcing him to squint as he walks towards the Hokage's office.

5- PRESSURE (Itasasu) Taken from In Power that can be read as a standalone oneshot.

Itachi wakes up to the sound of pouring water.

6- IN DREAMS (Itasasu, Izuna/Sasuke, DARKFIC). This is one of the darkest things I wrote. The Izuna/Sasuke crackpair was for @admiral-izusasu. The plot, the dynamics, everything has a double, or triple reading, plot related and metaphorical for other, real-life issues such as knowing people online, and emotional abuse from narcissistic people. I wrote it when I was fighting against one of these psychos, on tumblr itself, so this fic has a personal meaning for me. But also the plot and the canon divergent ending thing is cool, I think it’s one of my best fics, even though I coulnd’t care less about izuna.

They say that nature will always find a way. After the end of the war flowers keep blooming like nothing happened even if the light is fainter, filtered from the tall branches of the Shinju tree, now grown into a forest spread all over the world.

7- SOMBER CREATION PALE DESTRUCTION (Madara/Sasuke dom/sub-ish). Darkish? Who knows, I write darkfish stuff all the time. I was (and am) very proud of this fic, the canon divergent turn it took (who am I kidding, it’s really cool lol) and the weird relationship/dynamics these 2 created. So I didn’t update it anymore, because doing so would break their thin balance. Ssssh, don’t tell me it doesn’t make sense, I don’t believe you xD

History teaches that Madara Uchiha died at the hands of Hashirama Senju. Their statues were erected in the Valley Of The End where their battle was fought, where the shinobi god ended his best friend's life in order to protect the village they founded together. No one knows that Madara didn't die there.

8- IN THE DARK (kakashi/Sasuke, mob/Sasuke noncon). This is a very dark oneshot that I’m proud of, cause it ‘explains’ canon Sasuke personality in Shinden and later, and that I use as prequel for many fics, like WHW but also OFAF and Broken Things (see later for both).

Things never went as Sasuke wanted. After the war it's no different, although everything seems fine at first, Team 7 finally at peace with each other, the war ended and the village that Itachi protected, even as a dead man, safe. Nevertheless he is arrested when he's still in the hospital.

9- VICTIMS OF PEACE (Shisui/Sasuke dom/sub-ish) I am so proud of this fic, of its non massacre universe, of the dark-ish slow burn relationship between Shisui and Sasuke I wrote, tentatively at first cause no one did it or thought much about it, and because that non massacre filler was bad, but still it was inspiration. I know shiita fans hated me even more for this cause shisui is only paired with itachi, and also itachi/itasasu fans were disappointed but still. This is maybe the fic I’m most proud of.

If a traveler arrived from a random village in the Fire Country he would certainly notice how different Konoha was. He would not be able to pinpoint exactly why at first, because the buildings, houses and shops are similar, just like their gardens, fields and animals. Only after some thought he would understand that the difference is in their people: other villagers are relaxed and casual, even loud. Children run around the streets, chasing each other, playing tag or hide-and-seek. Their fathers bring them presents and their mothers buy them new clothes.

10- OF FEATHERS AND FANGS (DARK Narusasu) I received a lot of hate for this one, which makes me proud of it even more. so many naruto stans were butthurt by my characterization of him as a possessive not sunshine selfless boy and their dynamics as crazy.

Jiraiya used to complain that the first sign of getting old was waking up at night for no reason and not being able to fall back asleep. For Naruto, this only happened after the war.

11- BLACK ROSES (Itasasu, dom/sub-ish) Smutty Bloody Darky Hokage Itachi/Anbu Sasuke oneshot

Because of his farsighted politics, his loyalty towards his allies as well as his iron fist against his enemies, Itachi quickly became one of the most respected leaders in the shinobi world, and because of his unequaled diplomatic skills, along with his vast culture, impeccable manners and refined appearance, he became popular among nobles, including the Daimyo, whose official visits increased since the Uchiha rose to power.

12- NELL’IPOTESI GRANDE (=IN THE BIG HYPOTHESIS) (MetaMoro, not Naruto) I’m very proud of this one cause it’s a psycho-pass inspired longfic set in a retrofuturistic Italy with a totalitarian consumeristic regime. But that fandom is so shitty and they all hate me cause I called them homophobic fascists so no one cares. The excerpt is translated too.

He’s reminded of Pirandello’s* words as he’s riding the automatic taxi across the city, exiting the center towards EUR. COmpared to Milan with its skyscrapers, multilevel streets, automatic cars and incessant novelties, the capital is basically the same as it was portrayed in old illustrations: renaissance and 20th century buildings, seagulls, pines among the Roman ruins, sycamore trees on the Lungotevere, that was probably already busy with traffic when people travelled on horse carriages. (*an Italian writer)

13- DA UOMO A UOMO, MANO NELLA MANO (from man to man, hand in hand) (Metamoro) lol I was hated a lot for this one too. tbh the hate I received in the Naruto fandom is nothing compared to this other shitty fandom

For an artist like Fabrizio, mainly focused on expressing what he has inside, public relations are the hardest part of his job, especially when it’s about events where, instead of fans, of whom he perceives the sincere affection, other artists and professionals are invited. His experience taught him that most of them are hypocrites ready to jump on the winner’s bandwagon as quickly as to throw mud at the loser.

14- STRENGTH THROUGH WOUNDING (wip) (Obito/Sasuke, Obito/Itachi, dark.-ish) 

There is something nostalgic in the eerie way the boy's screams resonate through the dark cavern-like hideout, their pain bouncing from one curved wall to another, their anguish filling their crevices. It’s like hearing his past self from an external perspective, like Madara did. Which is fitting, for Obito is Madara now.

15- WORDS UNSAID (wip) (Kakashi/Sasuke) 

A black flame that cannot be extinguished: they had been warned about Amaterasu by Jiraiya, but seeing it was impressive nevertheless. The whole area was surrounded by black flames and the rain pouring hard could nothing against it. They found Sasuke there, surrounded, imprisoned by black flames that were extinguishing themselves, so they found a breach.

16- BLEEDING ME (Metamoro vampire/priest darkfic) No one can understand this in the Naruto fandom but it’s an AU interpretation of the Da UOMO A UOMO character dynamics where one is an emotional vampire-like person. I’m very proud of this fic tbh.

According to folk stories the forest was so big and full of dangers that God himself put a church where it ended, so that its priest would protect the people living nearby. It was a small, white building that didn���t match the typical stones and wood brownish ones of that region, with no stained glass windows or fancy columns, spires or gargoyles, only crosses with skulls and bones, and an engraving in an unknown language.

17- WILD CHILD (Metamoro cop/drug dealer AU). At this point I hate that fandom so much but I like my ideas and I write only for my girl whom I met in that very shitty fandom.

Everything seems bigger in children’s eyes. Like the playground in the courtyard of the church, with its slides and swings that for Ermal’s siblings were the setting of countless imaginary adventures which they told him in detail, enthusiastically interrupting each other, when he picked them up after school.

18- TRUE COLORS (Itasasu, dark, dom/sub) By now I’m only interested in writing dark IS and I enjoyed writing this one lol

"I knew you had it in you. You're a sadistic control freak. Even more than me." Orochimaru's voice resounded in Itachi's ears. Again.

19- OF FEATHERS AND FANGS 2: TO REPAIR WITH GOLD (Dark Narusasu). Cause I didn’t piss off NS fans enough I guess? lol this is ongoing and I like this idea so much

It's a rainy day in Konoha but no one seems to notice. Everyone is focused on the Hokage delivering his eulogy.

20- BROKEN THINGS (Shisui/Sasuke) My latest creation, I’m so proud of it cause it’s Shisasu again, my rarepair! and it was supposed to be a oneshot but it got longer because they have such a cool dynamic that things just happen and get longer.

In the Land of Water summers were hot and damp, autumn and spring were damp for the frequent rains and winter was no less, with its cold temperature and ubiquitous dampness. It wasn't a problem for Sasuke though.

                                                                       *

Tagging: @renamon15 and all the other authors I can’t remember right now and who want to do this, tag me back so I can read your first lines lol

[mrsamaroevans]

01 | EVERYTHING CHANGES

Fandom: Law & Order: SVU.

Pairing: Nick Amaro x Reader.

Summary: It’s been fifteen years since the last time you saw Nick Amaro, and when you reconnect, he soon knows you’re living an abusive marriage. 

Words: 1,398.

Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence, miscarriage. English is not my first language, so, sorry if there are grammar mistakes or if the redaction is poor. *Gif is not mine*

A/N: Hey! So, I just realized it’s Danny’s 46th birthday (omg! I’m in love with someone twice my age lol) so I decided to post this Nick Amaro short series it’s been in my drafts for a few weeks now. I got inspired by listening to Waitress (As you can notice for the name of it lol) and it’s going to be only ten chapters long, but if you want to be tagged, just let me know!

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“The Supermarket Encounter”

The supermarkets on Sundays were hell, everybody knew that. So, as a smart person, you were there usually on Friday mornings. However, that day was Wednesday but you were running out of some things.

You were alone ‘cause your husband hated going to buy the groceries. So, he gives you the money and you do it all by yourself. It wasn’t something that upsets you, most of the time, you wanted to be as far away from him as you could, so, you enjoyed your time alone.

When you were twenty, you met Sean Davis, a handsome substitute teacher. Sean was the guy everyone wanted to date, he was a daydream and all of your friends were jealous that you were the one who caught his eye, and, actually, you were so proud and excited for the same reason. You started dating him and soon, things became formal between you two. He was four years older, but that didn’t matter ‘cause he seemed to be perfect.

You got married as soon as you graduated from college. As normally happens, finding a job as a newly graduated was hard. Sean told you not to worry, that you’d find a good job when the perfect time came. So, you stayed at home being the ‘good wife’ your mother taught you to be.

Sean found a full-time job in a private high-school and soon, your life as a wife wasn’t what you expected; Sean was always working, you barely saw your friends or family, the only thing you did was, staying at home.

As the months passed, you started to know a side of Sean you didn’t know. You knew he had a temper just like everyone, but whenever he had a stressful day at work, he comes home and takes it out with you. He yelled, hit the wall, pushed you away of his way, and in bed, he was rougher.

Three years later he was fired after some girls accused him of sexual harassment. You always trusted him. You didn’t ask questions, but you believed what he told you: Those rich girls were mad at him for their bad grades.

After that, you started to know another side of him. He started drinking almost every day, he became more aggressive, he shouted at you more frequently, and when you said you were going to look for a job again, he went mad. He was the man, he was going to provide his family. Sean didn’t want you outside home, there were men in the streets, what if you fall in love with someone else? What if you cheat on him? Maybe you wanted to get a job so you could sleep with another man. That was what he told you before hitting you.

You stayed. That’s what your mom told you to do. He was a man, he felt he was failing you as a husband, that was why he was mad. He wasn’t thinking clear, he was drunk, he didn’t mean to hit you. It was your fault; you shouldn’t have said that.

Sean got another job in New York, but not even moving out of Florida changed him. You were so careful with every step you walked in your own house, you cleaned all the house twice just to make sure everything was perfect so he wouldn't have an excuse to shout at you. You lived like that for three years and it didn’t matter how hard you tried to make everything the way he wanted, he still found something to be mad for.

But not everything was that way. He had good days in which he took you out for dinner. Sometimes, he would come home with your favorite flowers and watched movies together in your bed. Things could change, since today, everything is going to be different. You used to think. But it didn’t happen.

And one day, he came home. He kissed you hard, he started to touch you, being as romantic as he could be and said: “Let’s make a baby”. That was a great idea, how couldn’t you think about that? Maybe, becoming a father would change him.

So, after three months of trying, you got pregnant. Sean was so happy and so were you. He talked to your belly every night, he was with you at the doctor's, he took care of you. You were seeing the Sean Davis you got married to again.

One night, he was talking to the baby as if it was a “he” and you asked: “Love, you know it can be a girl, right?” as you were smiling. You shouldn’t have said that.

One week later, you had a miscarriage. You knew your baby wasn’t gonna make it since the moment Sean beat you. His firstborn wasn’t going to be a girl, were you insane? How could you have said that?

Sean cried and asked you to forgive him. You had never seen him cry before, maybe he was really sorry, maybe that would help him to change, maybe he realized what he was doing was wrong. So you forgave him.

You didn’t want to pass for the same experience again, so you started to take contraceptives without him knowing. You were willing to take all his screams and beatings because you couldn’t get pregnant as long as you could avoid losing another child.

Then, a few years after, your period was late and you started to feel sick and tired all the time. You read on the internet that antibiotics inhibit the effect of contraceptives, and you took some meds weeks before.

You were on the pharmacy when you found the pregnancy tests section. You saw the price of a package of three and then you saw the numbers on the screen of your phone. You had enough money to buy it, but the thing was that you didn’t want to ‘cause that meant you had to take those tests. You didn’t want to know; you didn’t want to be pregnant.

“(y/n)?”

The pregnancy tests fell into your cart when you turned to the person talking to you. Maybe it was the surprise, but maybe you wanted the package to get lost between all the other items you were going to buy for whoever was there couldn’t see them.

“Nick!” You sounded a bit confused, and it was because it took you a couple of seconds to recognize him “Sorry, you look a bit different without the beard”

“I’ve heard” He nodded and got close to you to hug you.

That simple and innocent action caught you unprepared so you weren’t able to properly hug him back.  

“It’s been a long time since the last time I saw you. How’ve you been?” He asked, smiling with that same smile you remember.

“Great!” You said, smiling “What about you?”

“I’ve been fine” he nodded again and smiled “What happened to your eye?” he pointed to the —now— small bruise in the corner of your eye.

“Oh, I was playing with my nephew and he hit me with a bus he has… kids are unpredictable” you confidently said. You had a lot of practice by now.

Nick smiled. "Jack got married?”

“He did” you nodded “And he has two beautiful kids now, but they’re wild” you shrugged and smiled when the little faces of your nephews came to your mind “What have you done in all these years? I think I haven’t seen you since… what is it? fifteen yea—”

“Since you broke up with me?” Nick asked, smiling and you laughed. The heat in your face made you look down.

“Shut up,” you said, playfully pushing him and then, you looked at him, waiting for his answer.

“I’m a cop,” he said, taking a card out of his wallet and handing it to you. You took it and read his name and phone number in it.

“Oh, that’s great” you smiled “How many bad guys have you put behind bars?”

“Not as many as I’d like to”

There he was: Nicolas Amaro and his big heart of gold. The protective and caring Nick you remembered.

“Look, I have to go home now, but it was really nice to see you again,” you told him and he nodded when he looked to your left hand and saw your wedding ring.

“I say the same” he smiled and leaned to kiss your cheek “Hope to see you soon”

You smiled —‘cause that kiss left you speechless— and grabbed your cart to walk to the cashiers.

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|| MY MASTERLIST ||

[harringrovetrashrat]

hi, you take requests, right? Mind if I make one? Something post season 3. In my head, I imagine being the Mindflayer's host probably has some nasty side effects. I mean, the the thing forced itself physically inside his head. That's bound to mess you up. It left Billy with a brain injury that manifests itself in seizures. One night, Neil hits Billy and triggers a really bad one. From there it's just lots of angsty worried Steve and some worried Max and that's it. Thanks, friend!

I def take requests!  Can’t say that I’ll be able to get to them right away, but I’m always looking for inspo!  I did some research on seizures, so that took me a moment, and then this kinda got away from me, lol.

Anyway, anon, I sincerely hope that you enjoy this and that it has most of what you asked for~! (Fic below the cut)

When Billy had been impaled, he’d been relieved. It was over, finally over. He had lain there, staring up, a blurry Max yelling above him. He hoped he said his apology and didn’t just think it. He hoped that maybe she would mourn him, even for just a little while.

And then he’d woken up in the hospital, confused about where he was, who he was, and unable to make his mouth work. He thought words, lots of them, mostly what the fuck? Then there’d been a redhead, someone he knew he should know, but didn’t, and then he was asleep again.

That happened a few more times before Billy was able to wake up without freaking out. A nurse had stood above him, saying something, but he couldn’t figure it out at first. Finally, after she repeated it a few times, he was able to gather enough to understand that he’d “lived through a fire and the mall collapsing,” but had gotten a collapsed lung and a traumatic brain injury. That recovery was going to be long and hard and wasn’t even a full guarantee.

He wondered why he was alive.

It took a few months, but Billy was finally able to walk and eat with little difficulty, though he had bad days and his hands trembled when he was stressed. Talking was still difficult. His sentences were stilted and short, words rattling around in his head, but he couldn’t get his mouth to say them. To say what he meant. It drove him crazy.

And when he finally returned home, it pissed his father the fuck off.

“Spit it out!” Neil had yelled, back handing Billy as he had been trying to respond to Neil’s question about what Billy’s plans for the future were. Because of course he was angry that Billy had lived. Was now a burden who was fucking useless, taking up space in his house. And Billy had nothing. Truly nothing. Because what could he say? I’m going to go get an apartment while I can barely ask Susan for a ride?

And of course, he couldn’t say any of that. So Neil had hit him, and Billy, well, he wasn’t in shape anymore. Had needed to relearn how to walk, so he fell. He hit the wall, knocking his head against it. And it made his head spin and spin and spinand–

And he went down, collapsing and panicking because he couldn’t control himself, couldn’t move, couldn’t stop twitching–

“Stop being dramatic,” Neil had spit out, kicking Billy in the side with his boot. But Billy didn’t get up, just laid there, crumpled, eyes wide as he jerked slightly, fingers twitching. Neil frowned. “Get up,” he ordered. Billy didn’t. “Get up,” he tried again, but sweat began to bead on his forehead. “I fucking said get up!” He kicked Billy again, harder, but he stayed down, not even emitting a sound of pain. “Fuck,” Neil hissed. “Fuck!” And he ran. Grabbed his coat and ran.

When Max came into the hall, having heard yelling and the door slam, she saw Billy and screamed. He didn’t do anything more than jerk, a small whimper escaping from his lips.

“Billy!” Max ran over, stopping at the last moment, unsure if she should touch him. Billy whimpered again, the jerks becoming slower and more irregular as his heart slowed and he let out a cry, finally able to make his mouth work. Max jumped back and paused, staring down at him with fat tears rolling down her cheeks, before running back to her room. Billy faintly heard the crackling of her walkie, though he was having trouble making out the words, everything off kilter and he felt sick. Felt like he could move but was too tired to do so. Max’s words finally started to be clear and he heard W-With Hopper and Mrs. Byers gone I-I– and Please I don’t know what to do! My mom– and then when blinked, Max was there again, wiping her eyes and crying softly.

They’d been better, though it hadn’t been hard, seeing as Billy was quiet and withdrawn, nothing like himself before. He didn’t go out, walked everywhere, and he kept his head down. Guilt, embarrassment, and discomfort filled his days and the only bright spots were when Max told him about her day. It was fucking sad. Billy reached out, movements slow, and gripped the front of her socked foot. Her breath hitched and she reached down, grabbing his hand.

“Billy?” Her voice was soft and he was so grateful. “Billy I, uhm, I called Steve and he’s gonna be here soon. We’re gonna take you to the doctor, okay? You’re gonna be fine, okay?” And when her voice cracked Billy felt his eyes fill with tears. He nodded weakly and she squeezed his fingers, only getting up when the door opened, Neil apparently hadn’t bothered to even lock it, and Steve came in, red faced and panting.

“Fuck,” he gasped, staring down at Billy on the floor, who wished he could sink into the ground and stay there.

–

A seizure. His father had slapped him so hard he gave him a fucking seizure.

“What’s best for him right now?” Harrington had asked the nurse, brow furrowed with concern. Billy hated how it gave him butterflies.

“A stable environment and rest. No drinking, no smoking, and no vigorous activity for a day or two.” Billy didn’t mention that he was already not doing that. “If he has another, come to us immediately. If he has any new symptoms, come to us immediately.” Billy tuned him out and looked out the window, feeling pathetic and angry. Max was holding his hand, both of them sitting on the hospital bed. Eventually, Steve waved the nurse off from the doorway and turned back to them.

“Sorry,” Billy croaked, feeling so fucking worthless.

“Don’t be,” Steve replied. “And I mean that. None of this is your fault.” Billy begged to differ. If he had just not let that fucking Mindflayer, or whatever they fucking called it, he didn’t fucking care, take him over they wouldn’t even be here. Steve didn’t take his silence poorly, however, and just held his hand out. Billy took it, blushing for needing help up. He kept his eyes down and let Max take his hand and lead him out. After a moment he realized Steve was talking again. “–se, I mean we have plenty of room, and my parents are never home, I’m pretty much just house sitting–” Billy blinked and looked at him in shock.

“What?” He asked, confused. Steve stuttered to a stop and looked at him, eyes wide. Billy realized, belatedly, that he hadn’t really said much to Steve, except Sorry since– Since–

“Huh?” Steve replied, staring into Billy’s eyes so intently he looked away. Max tugged on his hand.

“He said that you could stay with him. That you should.” When he looked at her, she had a determined look on her face.

“I-I couldn’t–”

“Seriously,” Steve said, cutting him off. “It’s no trouble. I mean, I still have work sometimes, but I can give you the number to call, if that works? If you can?” He looked uncomfortable, like he didn’t know how to talk about this. Billy could relate.

“I don’t–” Billy tried, pausing to clench his fists and eyes. “Rent?” Steve actually looked insulted.

“What? No! You can’t go back home, man,” Steve said, gripping Billy’s shoulder and pausing in the hospital entrance. He caught Billy’s eye. “You can’t. I’m not gonna take advantage of that.” A lump caught in Billy’s throat and he couldn’t say anything. So he just nodded and gripped Max’s hand tightly.

–

At first it was weird, living with another person, in a huge house, with practically free reign. Billy stayed in his guest room most of the time, coming out when Steve was home and falling asleep to the sound of Steve shuffling around. He didn’t sleep much, was always bursting with nervous energy. Was fretting over Billy in a way that no one had since his mother. It was weird, but it wasn’t unwelcome. It was welcome, in fact. Just overwhelming. Billy was used to being touched, touched by those who wanted his body, wanted something from him, wanted to hurt him, but he wasn’t used to this. Wasn’t used to the way Steve would gently grab his elbow as he passed, would help Billy with his buttons on bad days with no complaints, would cut up his goddamn food like he was a child and it made Billy’s head spin.

Steve fretted over him like he had nothing better to do. Like he had nothing else he wanted to do. It made Billy’s stomach do flip flops.

He knew he had liked Harrington since he met him. Had wanted to fuck him at least. And now here he was, still as gorgeous and magnetic as ever, taking care of him. Billy wanted. He wanted so badly.

“Okay,” Steve said, hands on his hips. “You’re sure you’ll be fine?” Billy rolled his eyes.

“Yes,” he replied. “It’s an hour.”

“A lot can happen in an hour,” Steve protested, glancing at his watch. He groaned and glanced at the door. “Fuck, I gotta get to my shift, stupid fucking Keith–” He let out a rush of air and gave Billy one last look. “Are you sure?”

“Christ, Harrington,” Billy drawled, “Max will be here and I’ll be fine.” They had made a system, Steve and Max, deciding that Billy needed to be watched over. Nevermind that he had been doing better, had been talking more, finally able to get his words out a majority of the time, and he was even thinking of starting to jog in the mornings. His doctor had recommended it, finally, and he wanted something to do. To at least pretend he could run from his problems.

But Steve and Max were anxious and goddamn worrywarts, so Steve had continued to move his shifts around so that when he left, Max would be arriving to spend time with Billy after school. It was spring semester, almost spring break, and soon she’d be able to spend more time with him and Steve could work more hours. It made Billy feel like a nuisance, despite how many times Steve told him he wasn’t. For now though, she’d have to leave to make it home for dinner.

He did not think about his father.

Steve gave him one last worried look before nodding and heading out.

“I’ll be home right after work, okay? Unless you want me to pick up, like, a pizza or something?”

“Grab whatever, I’ll eat it.” Billy chewed on his bottom lip and listened to the sounds of Steve leaving, starting his car, and driving away.

Billy thought about his plan to start jogging and, before he could talk himself out of it, was headed out the door, spare key in his pocket. He’d just take one go around Loch Nora, which shouldn’t take him more than 45 minutes, and that was enough time to quickly shower before Max arrived. He started at a slow but steady pace, feeling something in his chest unfurl in the spring weather. It was finally getting warmer, the air brisk and the sun glinting on the melting snow puddles. It was pretty in its own way, even if it didn’t hold to the ocean.

He smiled slightly and closed his eyes, feeling a little more like himself than he had in a long, long time. He jogged down the sidewalk, glad no one was out, and as he rounded the farthest corner, ready to make the final turn, he saw his father coming out of Mrs. Gardner’s house, smiling at her with that plastic face. Billy tripped over his own feet, barely keeping himself upright. He had to lean against a mailbox, unable to get his feet to move. He hadn’t seen his father in over a month now, maybe almost two. His dad hadn’t asked about him, had thrown out most of his stuff, though Max salvaged what she could, and now here he was. As the door closed and Neil turned away, smile melting off his face, he saw Billy. He froze as well, eyes sharp and dangerous.

“Son,” he said, voice dark. Billy felt himself begin to panic and tried to remember to breathe. He didn’t respond, didn’t look away, but he forced himself to move, to jog again. He felt his father’s eyes on his back until he disappeared behind the house on the corner. When he was out of sight, Billy stumbled and hid behind the bushes, glad that rich people loved large hedges. Through the leaves he saw his father’s truck make the turn, it’s pace slow, until his father seemed to give up and sped away. Because even though Billy wasn’t under his roof, his father would always want him under his thumb. Billy sat there, shaking, for a few minutes. When he could finally breathe again he stood and hopped the fences to get to the backyard. He didn’t trust the streets.

When he came around the side of the house, Max was there, ringing the doorbell frantically and pounding on the door. She did a double take when she saw him and ran over, face red with anger, but twisted in concern.

“Where were you?!”

“I wanted to go for a jog,” Billy replied, voice flat. His hands shook as he tried to put the key in the lock and Max gently took it, opening the door for them. She eyed him, knowing there was something he wasn’t saying. When he didn’t continue she tossed her backpack on the floor in the foyer and crossed her arms.

“And?” Billy couldn’t meet her eye.

“Neil was–” Max let out a strangled sound and slammed the door closed, locking it.

“Did he see you? Did he follow you? Billy, fuck!”

“Language,” he replied in a daze. Steve’s mothering tendencies were rubbing off on him. She pulled him into the living room and pulled the curtains.

“Okay, I’m going to ask you yes or no questions,” she said, voice trembling with restraint. “Can you handle that right now?”

“Yes.”

“Did he see you?” She sat him on the couch, going into the kitchen to get him some water.

“Yes,” Billy replied, hoping he was loud enough.

“Did he say anything to you?”

“Yes. Son.”

“Did you say anything to him?” She set the water in front of him before sitting next to him on the couch, taking his hand.

“No.”

“Did he follow you?”

“No. Tried to. I hid.” Billy hated that just seeing his father made him choke up, made the words feel stuck in his throat. He was so grateful for Max in that moment that he pulled her into a tight hug. He hadn’t done so much, if at all, since leaving the hospital. She froze, stiff and shocked, before gripping back, burying her face in his neck.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. Seeing his father had been jarring and upsetting, but he’d gotten away. Was 18 so his father couldn’t, and hopefully wouldn’t, do anything. He gripped Max tighter. “Will you be okay?” He was worried his father might have seen Max outside Steve’s and it was too much of a coincidence, them being in the same neighborhood, especially one this rich.

“I didn’t see his truck, but maybe I should go home early, just in case.” She sounded upset, like that was the last thing she wanted to do. “We should call Steve,” she said, pulling away. Billy jerked back, shaking his head.

“No, he doesn’t– He’ll worry.” Billy didn’t want Steve to fret for his entire shift, which he definitely would. “I don’t want to be a bother. It’s my fault for going out–”

“No,” Max snapped, cutting him off. “It’s not your fault.” Billy wouldn’t meet her eye and she stood, putting on Dirty Dancing. They had bonded over Patrick Swayze and it was a comfort movie for the two of them, as weird as it was. She threw herself against his side, making a space for herself, and Billy just wrapped an arm around her and let the movie play.

–

“Billy!” Steve called as he came in, bag of sodas and breadsticks in one hand, pizza balanced in the other. “I brought home Hawaiian pizza!” It made him blush, calling it their home, and since Billy wasn’t there, he let himself. His parents were out even more now that he was out of school, and more still after the Mall Incident. They didn’t want to deal with his nightmares and clinginess and if he had been a little selfish in asking Billy to stay, he would never admit it. He set the pizza down on the table in the kitchen and went into the living room, finding Billy with his arms around his knees, staring at a blue TV screen. It made his hairs stand on end. “Billy?” He jumped, like he hadn’t heard Steve come in, and the fear that flashed on his face broke Steve’s heart. “Hey, hey,” he said placatingly. “It’s just me.” Billy relaxed and nodded once, looking at the TV in shock like he hadn’t even noticed his movie end.

“Sorry I– I lost track of time after Max left.” Steve smiled and held out his hand.

“I got Hawaiian, your favorite, you goddamn heathen.” Billy smiled a little, ducking his head. Steve’s breath hitched when he looked at him through his lashes, his eyes sad and grateful.

“You eat just as much of it as I do, you human garbage disposal,” he replied, taking Steve’s hand and pulling himself up. It was their thing. Steve pretended he hadn’t eaten Cheez-Whiz on undercooked macaroni noodles, and actually had taste, and Billy let him. Plus, Steve could deny it all he wanted, but Billy knew he just didn’t want to admit the pineapple was fucking good.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve replied, something in his chest unclenching. Billy was joking so hopefully things were okay. “You and Max have a good time?” He pulled out a chair for Billy and missed the way he blushed.

“Yeah, watched Dirty Dancing.” Billy winced when Steve froze. He knew that they didn’t watch that unless one of them was having a rough day.

“Oh?” When Billy didn’t reply, just sat down and started shoving pizza into his face, Steve’s chest clenched right back up. “Billy?”

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled. “Just went for a jog and stressed myself out.” He wouldn’t look Steve in the eye, not that he usually did.

“A jog?” Billy shrugged stiffly.

“Yeah. Doc said I could start some light exercising.” He opened one of the cans of coke, fiddling with the tab. Steve fidgeted before sitting down heavily, grabbing a slice to munch on. He watched Billy, who kept hunching lower and lower in his seat.

“So–”

“I saw Neil,” Billy grit out, like he didn’t want to say it. Steve dropped his pizza onto his pants, cursing and tossing it back into the box before moving to Billy’s side.

“Are you okay?” Billy shrugged.

“He didn’t do anything, though I think he tried to follow me, likes to keep tabs on people.” He sniffed and gave Steve a quick look, before once more averting his gaze. Steve hated it. Wanted Billy to look at him. Wanted Billy to know he would never be angry with him, just wanted him to be happy. “Realistically I know he can’t really do anything,” he said, voice soft, “But every time I see him I just–” He cut himself off and crossed his arms. Steve placed his hand on his knee, making Billy’s eyes snap over to him, a light flush on his cheeks.

“When did this happen?”

“After you left. Before Max got here.” Steve nodded, trying not to let the hurt show on his face. Billy hadn’t even called. “Sorry,” Billy whispered.

“For what?”

“Being such a fucking nuisance.” Before Steve could tell him that he wasn’t, Billy continued, fingers digging into his sweater clad arm. “Mooching off of you because I can’t– I’m so fucking useless and stupid.” Steve squeezed Billy’s knee, which for some reason, made his face twist even more. Steve removed his hand but it didn’t seem to help. “And now my dad– I just want to be fucking normal.”

“Okay,” Steve said, licking his lips, “I’m gonna tell you something, okay? And I want you to just listen for a moment.” Billy nodded. Steve went back to his chair and wiped his hands on his pants, making a face when he got the tomato sauce he forgot to remove on one. “One, you’re not mooching. If anything, all of this is on my parents dime, and they aren’t gonna notice. Two, you’re not useless, or stupid.” Billy opened his mouth but Steve tutted him. “No, nope. You do chores without me asking and you had a fucking brain injury. You’re recovering and you’re doing so much better than anyone thought. Even Dr. Owens.” Billy blushed at that, smiling sadly. “And third,” Steve swallowed thickly and blushed, “You’re definitely not a nuisance. I offered up my place because– Well, I have the room and the money to help so why wouldn’t I but–” He scratched the back of his head. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that my parents aren’t ever here. Not really.”

“Yeah,” Billy replied, not sure where Steve was going.

“I’m really glad to help you but also, like, I kind of needed this too.” He picked at some fraying on his sleeve. “I don’t sleep much anymore, too many nightmares, and waking up to an empty house is–” He shrugged, throat getting tight. “I hate being alone,” he said quietly. He looked at Billy, who was staring at him with wide eyes. “I really like having you here.” Billy looked away and Steve kept talking because he needed Billy to know. Fuck it. “I mean, like, I really like having you here.”

“Yeah?” Billy looked at him through his lashes again.

“Yeah,” Steve said, taking Billy’s hand and intertwining their fingers. Billy’s eyes went wide and his face went red and Steve felt the clenching in his chest loosen more. “And you’ll always have a place with me.” He wasn’t surprised when Billy leaned over and kissed him. Just smiled when he pulled back, his breath catching at the glint of happiness and hope in Billy’s eyes when he pulled away.

“I– Is this–”

“I mean, if you really feel like a mooch, a smooch or two per day would be great payment,” Steve said teasingly. And when Billy laughed, looking more like himself than Steve had seen in months, he couldn’t help ducking in for a kiss of his own.

[dredreadsdrawing]

Day 2: 'Family', using the template created by @benjiweird

This one's gonna take a bit more context lol. So I've already posted a past Demonverse story concept named Tearduct Pact, right? Welp. Before I made those characters, I already had a few ogs in that universe that I never got to drawing. These are some of em.

And this is the story about a family created by a demon.

Florencia was a girl born from a rich invester and an immigrant maid. She was taken in by her father, but neglected by everyone.

One day, for a sister of Florencia's birthday, the family went to watch a circus. Florencia, of course, stayed behind. The family never returned in one piece.

Florencia was alone. Ten years old, she knew she was in trouble, but she could do nothing. Servants left, distant family members would come only to dispute over assets in the office. Though her father made it so his children would get all his possessions, she was never brought up as a candidate. She didn't want money or possessions, she just wanted a home. But knowing the adults, they would rather kick her out the second they claimed the house, than have to keep her around.

At night, she noticed a voice from the bottom of her bed. Always soothing her. Always making jokes. Always promising it would be okay. If only she made a deal. She was scared to even look down, and would largely ignore it. But one particular night, her uncles weren't leaving. They were coming to a conclusion, and she knew. She needed to act.

She gave into the deal, and the figure showed itself. It promised it would only take what could be spared. All it needed to seal the deal was a body. Being a lower level demon, the bear would do for now.

With the ritual done and his soul bound to stuffing, something peculiar occured. She couldn't let go of the bear. She couldn't move her body at all.

The demon had possessed her. And, using her, 'she' moved to barge in to the office and demand they leave. The men laughed.

'She' walked over to father's desk and took out the pistol from his top drawer.

'She' wouldn't ask nicely again.

They moved closer, trying to take it away. She shot an uncle's fingers off. That finally brought them to their senses. She wasn't going to leave.

"That was your second warning. You may not believe it because my father never mentioned me, but I am a quick shot with 100% accuracy. I will kill you. This is my property and you are no longer welcome."

They were outraged. The nerve of this girl, claiming this house! 'She' looked at the only lawyer in the room, straight into his eyes.

"I know my father's will like the back of my hand. You ingrates will destroy his legacy given the chance. This is why he never mentions any of you. Now leave, or else, by law." 'She' smiles. "I can commit murder."

They left but promised they would cost more me back for revenge. The uncle with his fingers offed took his threats personally. Finally, with everyone gone, the demon let go.

Florencia fell to the floor. She couldn't believe what had transpired. She was...

She was glad she made the deal.

This wasn't over, he assured her.

She needed allies. Staff. To continue her father's business. He would make sure she would thrive, and she eagerly held his body close. She welcomed all his promises.

~~~

I will get more in general because I don't have everything else as specifically planned. What transpires is her, the next day, going to town and walking through the streets with her demon, guided by his intuition on who to take in as a servant. Five people are chosen.

Lewis, a man trained for years as a butler by a prestigious family, recently fired after being caught with the master of the house. They had been secret lovers, but when push comes to shove, he was abandoned, left to rot in poverty and alcoholism.

Marcy, a sweet girl who had a life ahead of her. She was betrothed at an early age, promised a life in the city, but an accident with her lover left her short a leg. The financial burden that would come from a wife that can't work was too much, and she too was left behind.

Clara, the old widow and her two children. Her husband was her lifeline for most of her life, but his passing meant she had to step up. Working in a restaurant with her oldest son, they would get paid, but not a fair share. The tipping point was when her second child came to work as well, only to be mistreated by the owner. They quit, and were readying to move.

But Florencia found them all and tooke then in.

Brought together by a young girl, these strangers weren't sure what to make of their situation. The girl was odd, and the legal battles brutal, but she never faltered, and was quick to reassure them of their security under her home. She was earnest and kind. They loved her immediately.

They grew into a proper family, taking care of the house and one another. This was everything Florencia ever wanted, and she had her demon to thank.

She never would let go of his hand. Day and night, she kept him close, talking to him, squeezing him, always thanking him for everything he gave her.

He was amused by how easy getting a child's adoration was, and would revel in her sincerity, but he always kept a wall around her words. She only liked him now, without her knowing what he was really taking from her. Of course, once he revealed the truth, her tune would change.

More time went on, and the staff already caught on to the demon's presence. While they didn't believe in him at first, they've been proven time and time again that something supernatural was indeed going on. Still, they never were scared by it.

A tipping point came in the form of Clara. For a minute, Florencia let go of her beloved bear to help Marcy plant flowers. He sat alone in the shade and watched, when Clara came and sat beside him. She talked, venting about how great the year had been. She thanked him for it, telling him she was afraid for Florencia at first. But with how happy the child has always been, she could not reason that he was a bad spirit. She was grateful he found her.

This didn't sit well with him.

That night, for the very first time, he felt guilt. He slipped out of the bear and sat in bed, only gazing at Florencia's face.

Remembering all her kind words, and her love and laughter and how she has helped so many people inside and outside the house. She was a beacon, shining to make everyone's lives brighter. And, because of him, she would come to die at an early age.

He cried. He tried. He couldn't take back the years he's consumed from her life. All used as building blocks for his power and gain.

He checked her palm, reading her lines, hoping he was wrong when he first read them. But his eye was trained well.

Three more years. At the age of fourteen, she would be snuffed forever.

And it was all because of him.

~~~~

Dis is all I have so far lolol. In case it's not as clear as I wanted it to be, this demon's love for her is strictly platonic. While my first concept of this story was romantic, as I am a sucker for em, the more I kept thinking it through, the more I prefered keeping their relationship as a little sister and an older brother. He's looked after her and comforted her, and she's willingly dependent on him it.

Also, like in Tearduct Pact, his form changes the more he feeds off her life. He becomes bigger, bulkier. He gets his wings. Im not very satisfied with his form in this comic, so I may change it as a whole too but. Ye lol, I haven't planned his demon form very well.

Das all i can type lol. I. Have. WORK TO DOOOO.

[sinplisticshawn]

get your kicks - prologue: home

pic cred shawnmendesgallery

A/N: hello hello happy new year friends!!!!! this shitshow of a story is brought to u by my procrastination and @evansweaters​ ’s 2k writing challenge. i haven’t written in a loooooong ass time, but i really wanna get back into it so even if it sucks im kinda okay with that. gotta start somewhere!!!! so yeah here we go. hope i do ya proud sami. 

prompt: road trip au + shawn mendes (ft. college!shawn and best friend!shawn)

warnings: language, some heavy-handed exposition pls forgive me lol

word count: 1.7k

______

Amelina had fully expected the house to be empty when she walked in. Four in the afternoon on a Thursday meant her parents were both still at work, and if she remembered correctly, Luis would still be in his last period history class that he raved about every time he called. All of this in mind, she found it completely fair that she screamed bloody murder when all six feet and two inches of white man greeted her with a tackle from behind and a shout of her name.

“Shawn, you absolute ass, what are you doing?” she questioned with a glare when he laughed with his whole body.

“Waiting for you to get home?” he said as if it should be obvious why he was in her house alone when his own home was right next door. “Rosalia said you were coming home today and that I was welcome to wait on you. So I did. I missed you.”

Amelina finally caught her breath and relaxed into his tackle, letting it become a hug. His grip loosened when he dropped his head beside hers and spoke — a little softer that time with his voice muffled in her shoulder.

“Seven months was too long, Lina.”

She squeezed his arm.

“I know.”

______

“Oh my god, and did I even tell you Liyah has a boyfriend now too?”

The incredulous look on Shawn’s face and the way he dramatically dropped the butter knife and bun he had been holding made Lina snort before casting her mother a knowing glance. Lina and Shawn had spent some time at the dining table catching up on their semester apart before her mother arrived shortly after her. After properly welcoming her daughter home, Rosalia asked them to make themselves useful and get started on dinner.

“Does she now?” Lina said, doing her best to seem oblivious as she tossed the veggies in the pan.

“Yeah! I’m gone for half a semester and I come back and she’s all curled up with this Rohail kid on our couch!”

“Rohail? That’s one of Luis’s friends. Nice boy,” Rosalia said.

“I don’t care if he’s a nice boy, she’s fifteen. Why does she even—”

“Lina, have you booked your flight yet?”

Shawn’s tantrum was cut short when Lina’s father called out to her from just outside the kitchen. He had arrived a bit after her mother and made a beeline for his bathroom after giving his daughter a hug. Fully refreshed and having changed out of his work suit and into his favorite cargo shorts, he walked in with his head down, phone in hand.

Lina could feel Shawn’s eyes boring into her back.

“Uh no– no, I haven’t.”

“Your flight?”

The two spoke at the same time, her voice suddenly nervous and his almost concerned. She didn’t take her eyes off of the sautéing onions and peppers.

“Yeah. LAX. I have an interview.”

Her voice stayed steady, but she let herself sneak a peek over her shoulder. Confusion was clear on Shawn’s face, but the slight tilt to his lip suggested hurt. 

“Interview?” was all he managed to stutter out.

“My little Lina is in the final round of interviews for a very prestigious internship,” her father announced, pocketing his phone and crossing the kitchen to kiss her head with a massive grin. He really couldn’t be prouder, but in that moment, Lina found herself almost wishing he cared just a little less. Or at least was quieter about it.

“Oh shit,” Shawn said, his voice much softer than it was mere minutes before when he was talking about his sister. “Congrats, Lina. That’s real big.”

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

Sensing the tension, her mother cleared her throat and gestured to the window that faced the street.

“Looks like your parents are back, mijo. Amelina, why don’t you go say hello and invite them over? You dad can finish up here.”

Rosalia took the spatula and pan from her daughter and shoved them towards her confused husband. Lina nodded, thankful for her mother. She kissed her father’s cheek as a quick way of saying don’t worry, you’re only kind of in trouble before she gestured to the door at Shawn.

“So LA, huh?”

He fought to keep his voice even, walking casually with his hands in his pockets and kicking at rocks as they crossed the street to his house.

“Yeah. Yeah, LA.”

“So would you like… leave UC?”

“Nah, it’s just a one-semester co-op kinda thing. I’d be in LA for the spring taking online classes and working full time, then I go back next fall.”

“Oh okay.”

“Lina!”

Before the front door of the Mendes house was full open, Aaliyah barreled towards Lina.

“I missed you. Don’t leave me again for that long, damn.”

“Missed you too, hun,” Lina responded, finally letting go of Shawn’s little sister. “How is my favorite girl doing? How’d your one-month go?”

“It was so cute, Lina, oh my god. We went to the drive-in and—”

“You what?!” Shawn broke his silence, quickly moving from where he had been watching from the door. The smile he wore watching the reunion fell immediately and was replaced with a scowl. “And you!” he whipped his head towards his best friend. “You knew!”

Lina shrugged. Shawn huffed.

“No respect in this damn house.”

He brushed past his mom, quickly kissing her head before stalking off to the bathroom. Karen threw Aaliyah an inquisitive look as she entered the living room before rolling her eyes at her son’s dramatics. Finally, she made it to Amelina and enveloped her in a hug.

“Welcome home, love.”

______

Evening found the Mendes clan spread out through the Moreno’s living room in a post-dinner laze. Lina’s parents were in deep conversation with Manny while Karen, Lina, and Shawn grilled Aaliyah about her new relationship, but Lina’s attention was admittedly elsewhere. From where she was sitting, her entire left side pressed against Shawn’s right, she could feel his other leg shaking and his fingers picking at a thread in her jeans – an old habit of his that she had grown used to when they were younger but which felt oddly foreign after months apart. Like hers, his attention seemed split as he was only barely participating in the conversation he was so passionate about just hours earlier. While Aaliyah gave a dramatic retelling of her adorably disastrous first date, Lina turned to Shawn.

“You okay?”

As if the string suddenly stung, his movements froze, and he jerked his hand away. He mashed his lips the way he did when he was deciding whether or not to tell the truth.

“Can we— can we go outside for a bit?”

Lina nodded with some concerned hesitation, following as he stood and pulled her with him. No one seemed to notice or care as they made their way out onto the patio swing where he pulled them both down with a huff. They sat quietly, pushing off against the fire pit in front of them to make the seat swing. Amidst the silence, it was like the words had been punched out of him when Shawn finally spoke.

“Why didn’t you tell me about LA?”

“It’s not a sure thing yet,” Lina mumbled. “I didn’t want to cause a fuss.”

“That’s the shit we’re supposed to talk about though! The not-sure-yet things. The ‘maybe’s and the ‘hopefully’s and the ‘I don’t know’s. I mean, fuck, since when do you avoid causing a fuss with me? Since when am I the last to find out?”

Shawn had sprung out of his seat and was pacing in front of her. Everything he hadn’t said since they were in the kitchen together that afternoon came pouring out between short huffing breaths, and Lina didn’t know what to do except sit still and quiet and listen as her best friend told her everything she already knew.

“I had to find out about Andy through my mom. I had no idea you broke up with her until two weeks later, and by then, I felt like an idiot even asking about it.”

“Shawn, I’m sorry.”

“And we said we’d never go longer than three months. We just doubled that and—”

“I know, and I’m really sorry that I couldn’t—”

“I don’t want you to apologize, Lina, goddammit. I get it. Life happens. I just…” His voice caught in his throat. With a sigh, he fell back into the seat beside her with his eyes closed. His voice was softer when he spoke again.

“I feel like I’m losing my best friend.”

As much as she wanted to reassure him, to flick him on the forehead and ask are you stupid?! she knew he was right. She had felt it too, and she didn’t have the will to lie to him and say that she didn’t.

“It’s not…” she paused, gathering her thoughts. “You aren’t losing me. We’ve just drifted, I guess.”

“That’s almost worse. That’s what adults say.”

“I guess that makes us adults now.”

“I don’t wanna drift, though, Lina,” Shawn admitted in a small voice as her reached for her hand. She let him have it on instinct, and he relaxed just a bit.

A moment of thought spent tracing her thumb over his swallow tattoo bred an idea, and the grin that overtook her face had Shawn confused and a little scared.

“Then we won’t.”

______

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just fly, mija?”

“I’m sure. This will be so much better,” Lina told her dad, beaming as she pulled on the straps of her backpack.

“Ready?” Shawn called out to her as he approached from across the street with his own backpack slung over one shoulder.

Between them was the large white van that would be their home for the next several days. Packed with luggage and pillows and blankets to last them until California and painted with phrases like “ROUTE 66 BABY!” and “SUMMER BREAK 2K19” courtesy of Aaliyah and Luis, it was truly an eyesore. And Lina absolutely loved the sight of it.

“Ready!”

______

A/N: i don’t have an update schedule for this, but i hope to stay somewhat regular. feel free to yell at me if i don’t. i also don’t have a taglist yet but if yall would be interested in that just shoot me an ask! hope you liked it and happy new year!

[sirenfromthelostcity]

The Most Pt. 2: Dangerous Woman

A/N: Sorry if this has any errors that i’ve missed to correct when i was quickly reading it over, i just wanted to finally post it as y’all have waited long enough. I accidentally turned this into a bigger thing so this might actually have like 2 more parts. Personally i’m feeling kinda iffy about this part, partially bc it was kinda rushed but that was my fault. Still tho i hope you like it! The story changed in direction so many times lol but i really hope you like the final result of this part. As always, massive thanks to everyone who has bothered to read pt 1 and return for a pt 2! Feedback is always appreciated :) Enjoy!

P.S. I normally write my flashback scenes in italics but idk why in the last part it didn’t post that way. 

Words: 3.3k+

The silence was unbearable. In fact, it’s been unbearable since you first departed John’s house for The Continental. Things certainly haven’t been the same since your outburst four days ago. Now here you both are, entering the elevator to take you to the lounge room where you are to meet your father and uncle Winston to officially mark John’s completion of the marker.

“So, this contract my father has for me must be quite important for him to have cut our training so short,” you remarked, no longer bearing the silence.

“I suppose,” he replied.

“Still, you must be excited.” 

“I must be?” he frowned, turning his head to face you but you remained looking ahead.

“Today’s the day you’re set free. I know how much you hated being bound to the marker.”

“It wasn’t an easy transition for me in the beginning,” he admitted, “but I did enjoy my time with you... more than I expected to.”

“As did I,” you finally glance at him before licking your lips and dropping your gaze to your feet. “Listen, John, I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting these past few days,” you recalled the day of your outburst in training and the next few days that followed. “To tell you the truth, it’s really not how I would’ve preferred to spend our last few days together.”

“How would you have liked for us to spend our last few days together then?”

For a moment you were at a loss for words. He used the same words you had previously spoken yet it felt like they had a different undertone.

“Uh, probably more together–– wait that came out wrong. I think. I just meant I was kinda isolating myself and acting pretty distant and… and had I known my dad was gonna end my training so soon ...” 

You hesitated, not quite so sure what to say. You questioned if it was even worth trying to say. John’s eyes implored you to go on but since you wouldn’t he decided to confess something.

“On the night of your father’s call, I tried to convince him to at least let you finish the full five years we had initially agreed on.”

“Why would you do that?” you frown in confusion and concernment. “You don’t think I’m ready?”

“No. I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself.”

“Aww that’s sweet, can’t take all the credit though. I had a really great teacher. He was tough on me sometimes but I know he was just trying to push me to be my best,” you jest. “So then why did you want to complete the full five years, you afraid you’re gonna miss me?”

 “I know I’m gonna miss you,” his words, although so simple, were heavy with sadness. Though he wasn’t even trying to hide his sadness the task would’ve proved itself impossible for both his sorrow and vulnerability was evidently reflected in his eyes. You couldn’t help but stare back at him with the same sorrow and vulnerability reflected in your own eyes.

You were both so caught in the moment neither of you even noticed the elevator doors open. John attempted to say something but was quickly caught off by your uncle addressing your arrival.

“Ah! There they are,” Winston motioned towards you both.

“Uncle Winston!” You say in both surprise and slight annoyance for interrupting the moment.

“Winston,” John greeted your uncle before the both of you were ushered into the lounge room together.

After your father officially marked John’s completion of the marker in the book, he immediately lead you to sit down with him at a different area of the room for privacy. You felt John’s eyes follow you and caught him stealing a few glances your way during your conversation. At one point it seemed as if John was going to make his way to you but your uncle Winston decided to steal him for a chat instead. 

That was the last time you saw John Wick. Until now. 

Staring at you from across the entrance of a nearly empty warehouse, John stands completely surprised to see you for the first time in nearly two months, “(Y/N)?”

“John?” you reply, just as shocked.  “What brings you to these parts of town? You’re not here to kill me are you?”

“No,” he furrows his brows, as if he’d ever take that contract. If anything, he knows he’d stop at nothing to ensure that contract is revoked. “But I am here for business.”

“Small world, so am I.”

“I didn’t know you were back in the city,” he states.

“Don’t take it personal, no one’s supposed to know I’m back,” you begin to approach him. “However, I was planning on visiting you after I finished sorting everything out with this contract. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“So have I,” he begins to amble towards you till you meet, his eyes never leaving your form as you saunter towards him. 

As you approach him you can’t help but admire how handsome he looks and how much you’ve missed seeing him. Little to your knowledge, John is doing the exact same. 

You’ve always recognized John as an attractive man and tonight is no different. Although you’re more used to seeing his long hair styled more casual, almost ruffled, seeing it tamed in a slicked back fashion sends shivers down your spine accompanied with wild thoughts of having it tousled within your fingers. John owns a variety of suits, as it’s practically a requirement in your world, but you absolutely love how they adorn his body and compliment his tall form, especially the all black suit he wears now. You’ve seen John in his Baba Yaga mode before and have to admit his look is as delicious as he is dangerous.

As for you, this is the first time John’s ever seen you in your business mode and unsurprisingly to him, you look as stunning as you are lethal. Your attire essentially consist of only one color, black, but the color suits everyone and you’re no exception. Your garments consist of a simple v-neck long sleeve shirt tucked into your jeans and tall comfortable leather boots. To top it all off you wear a sleek leather jacket, one John can’t help but adore how well it flatters you. Simple garments indeed but to John you’ve always looked comely no matter what you wore. 

“What a very small world indeed,” you both halt to a stop as you finally meet. “What are the chances that you and I, both with the intention of seeking and reuniting with the other, just so happen to cross paths at the same warehouse in New York?”

“Very slim. Although I am glad to see,” you heart flutters at this revelation, “this does seem a little suspicious.”

“Who did you say you were here for?” you question.

“I didn’t, but I’m here for Robert O’Riley.”

“So am I,” you frown. “I don’t understand, I was told this wasn’t an open contract.”

“I was told the same,” John takes a moment to assess the situation but it doesn’t take long for him to realize he doesn’t like it. He glances at you before taking your hand in his and heading towards the exit.

“Wait, where are we going?” you inquire, jogging behind him 

“Away from here. I don’t like this.”

Before you and John could officially reach the exit the doors burst open in an explosive manner, sending you two flying back onto the ground. Along with a slight ringing in your ear, you hear a window break as another explosion goes off, instinctively covering your head to shelter yourself from the debris. At least three more explosions go off, the entire warehouse is now decorated in fire, smoke, and shattered glass. 

“(Y/N)?!” John screams out for you.

“I’m fine! Where are you- AHH!” you suddenly get an excruciating pain pulsing through the left side of your lower abdomen as you attempt to sit up. You look down only to see a large piece of broken glass sticking out of you. “Not good.” 

You yelp in pain as you extract the shard of glass from your body and promptly apply pressure to the bleeding wound.

Despite the pain you rise up to your feet, “John!” you call out, coughing and limping your way through the smoke. 

“(Y/N)!” John calls out from behind you, relieved to see you alive.

You turn around and the two of your make your way to each other. 

John immediately spots your bloodied hand covering your lower abdomen and the concern within him speedily rises. 

Seeing his concern you swat your hand through the air in a nonchalant manner, “It’s really not that bad,” you lie. 

John shakes his head, seeing through your white lie. Still, he knows he’d rather assess your injury outside than in a burning building.

“I know a way out,” he coughs.

Noticing your limp, he wraps your arm around his shoulder before wrapping an arm around your waist to help you walk. Together you exit the burning building. 

As you both continue to walk together you suddenly holt as you hear movement and the sound of car doors opening and slamming shut, “Wait, someone’s here.”

The both of you remain hidden in the darkness but as you near the luminescence of a street light, you see at least six men all clad in suits huddling up to one man.

“Perché siamo ancora qui? L'edificio è sul fuoco del cazzo! (Why are we still here? The building is on fucking fire)” says one of the men with a hand up in the air, motioning to the burning building.

“Because, you dumbfuck,” the main mobster turns to directly rebuke his partner, “it’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and John Wick.” 

“She’s back?!” trembles another. “And he’s here too?!”

“The fu- were you not listening the entire car ride here?!”

“They’re just two people,” the first ruffian exasperatedly drops his hands to his sides. “I don’t get why you had to bring a whole cavalry for this.” 

Three more cars arrive and several more men begin to exit the vehicles.

“Do not, I repeat, do not underestimate them. They are two people that have proven multiple times to be very difficult to kill. We’re just here to make sure the job is finally done.”

“Matteo, you really think they’re still alive?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think. Valentino is not ruling anything out, so we’re here.”

You recognize the name and frown in perplexity. You know exactly who the mob leader is referring to but cannot recall ever crossing paths with him either in your personal or professional life. However, the same cannot be said for John.

“What do you want us to do?” chimes in another mobman. 

“Look around the place, make sure no one besides us leaves this place alive. Boss wants no loose ends, capire (understand)?” he commands. 

“Inteso (understood),” several of the men mutter.

“John we have to split up,” you whisper. 

“My car is right there,” he nods to his vehicle a couple meters away. 

“Okay but they are most definitely gonna shoot at us either as we run to it or as we’re driving away. I don’t wanna risk that.”

“You’re in a really bad condition right now and I’m not gonna risk that.”

“But John–” you grumble and he cuts you off.

“We stick to the shadows. You need to get patched up.”

Although endearing, John’s sudden protective nature of you slightly annoys you. With him being the man that’s trained you for nearly five years you’d think he’d have a little more faith in you. Nonetheless, you stick to John’s plan of sneaking your way to the car and it works. That is until you encounter one of Valentino’s thugs taking a presumably unapproved smoke break. 

The man’s eyes go wide in shock and horror as the sight of both you and John was certainly not something he anticipated despite the warnings from earlier. Using his shock to your advantage you quickly push John into cover before outdrawing the mobman and expertly shooting him twice in the gut and once in the head for good measure. You immediately run for cover behind an empty car as the body drops to the ground. John sees a man aim at you and immediately shoots him in the head before any harm can be done, any harm towards you at least. With those shots fired, the battle begins. 

You skillfully maneuver your way around different covers, successfully eliminating the mob men one by one. Never straying far from you, John swiftly does the same until there's no one left but the two of you. You take a quick look around your surroundings to make sure the threat is over. Upon spotting John your lips twitch into a small smile, relieved that he’s okay. However, as your adrenaline begins to fade, the pain from your wound returns and your breathing becomes heavy. You slide down against a car with a grunt and John is instantly at your side hovering down to pick you up and take you to his car. 

“I got you,” he says, rushing to get to his car with you in his arms. 

Once he finally has you situated in your seat, he gets into his own and begins to race to the nearest motel at breakneck speed. Although John would much rather prefer to take you to The Continental, he knows you’ve already lost a lot of blood and is not going to risk the long drive there.

“John, I’m cold,” you say, breathlessly. 

“I know sweetheart, just stay with me we’re almost there,” his hand reaches over to inspect your wound and the fear within him rises more as he feels how soaked your hand is from your own blood. His hand overlaps your own, assisting you in applying pressure onto the wound.

You exhaustedly giggle at the new nickname, “John I have to tell you something, just in case–”

“Please don’t talk like that, (Y/N),” he says to you distraught. “We’re nearly there.”

“But John I–”

“What day is it?” he asks.

“What?”

“I need you to stay conscious. What day is it?”

“I’m trying to tell you something.”

“You can tell me that when you’re feeling better. Please, what day is it?”

You stay silent to actually think about it for a second, your mind feeling fuzzy, “.... Friday…. It’s now Friday...”

“Cats or dogs?”

“What?”

“Cats or dogs?”

“... That’s hard… they’re both so cute …. I love your dog though… dogs.”

“Day time or night time?”

“... Night time… definitely night time..” 

“... Boy or girl?”

“What?”

“If given the chance would you want to have a girl or boy?”

“That’s easy… I’ll take either… so long as I love the person I’m having ‘em with … I know I’ll love the kid no matter what..”

John looks at you for a moment before focusing back to the road but his look can be described as nothing but doting and warm. To his relief the motel comes into his view and he drives into the parking lot. 

“I’ll be back,” he says, exiting the car to get you two a room.

“I”ll be here,” you pant. “Sitting...”

On approaching the check in desk, John, looking like he’s just escaped from a burning building, briefly scares the man behind the desk. He orders a room for two with separate beds and pays the clerk extra for discretion and privacy. Before leaving he asks the clerk, Dave, if the rooms have first aid kits. 

“Uh yeah, all our rooms have them. They’re in the bathroom under the sink.”

“Thank you,” John nods before quickly exiting the front desk area and heading straight to you. 

At once John is opening your door and helping you out of the car and into your room. He quickly turns on the lights and seats you on a chair next to a round wooden table. As told, John finds the first aid kit in the bathroom then proceeds to disinfect his hands before helping you take off your jacket then sitting on the empty seat in front of you and fixing your wound. To both the relief of John and you, the shard didn’t break in you so he is able to clean the wound quickly. Unfortunately for you, your wound requires stitches. It’s not information you didn’t know but it is something you’re not looking forward to and John sees it when he catches you glare at the needle and thread in his hands. 

“You’ve never gotten stitches before?” he asks.

“I’ve tried really hard to avoid them.”

“I have to do this,” he says and you silently nod in acknowledgment. “It’ll be over before you know it. Just, think about something else.”

“Like what?”

“Anything. What do you wanna do after this?” 

“Sleep,” you blatantly reply, your eyes slowly blinking. 

“No, no, no, you’ll get to do that but not now. You need to stay with me. What do you wanna do when this is all over?”

“Um,” you think. “The beach… I’d like to go to the beach…” 

“Why the beach?” he asks, you feel the needle prick your skin and wince at the pain. 

“Why the beach?” he repeats, continuing with stitching you up.

“... It’s been a really long time for me since I’ve been on one… since I felt the waves graze my feet … and crash into my body…”

“Tell me more.”

“I wanna feel the winds of the sea flow through my hair… and the sand…. soft against my skin …. Will you go with me?”

He pauses in his work to look at you, “Of course I’ll go with you, sweetheart.”

You smile, “There it is again.”

“What?”

“That nickname.”

“You don’t like it?”

“No, I love it. Just wasn’t expecting it.”

“I don’t think any of us really expected anything that happened tonight.”

“You’re right about that,” you giggle. 

“All done,” he says as he finishes closing the stitch. “How do you feel?”

“Tired and light…. Guess that’s expected though, I lost a lot of blood.”

John silently listens and watches you intently. You wonder what thoughts are going through his mind.

“Thank you, John,” you start, “you saved my life tonight.”

“No need to thank me, (Y/N),” he reaches for your hand and gently squeezes it. “Thank you protecting mine earlier.”

You suddenly remember the big gun fight that erupted maybe an hour ago, “Oh yeah, nearly forgot about that. It was nothing, my instincts just kicked in then. Told you it was gonna happen, one way or another. But you were so worried about me.”

“Sweetheart I’ll always worry about you. I know you can handle yourself but the situation was different.”

“I get it,” you nod. 

John quickly looks you over before rising from his seat and helping you get up from yours. 

“Where we going?” you ask.

“You need to get cleaned up to get some rest and you can’t do that here. Not when someone is clearly out to get us. We’re going to The Continental.”

[thebellwitchblog]

Reasons why my life is a fanfic

I dated my roommate fall semester freshman year of college. I was literally the “And they were roommates” vine.

He was set to inherit part of his father’s manufacturing company, so I would have been pretty comfortable if we stayed together.

Said roommate then started dating the Resident Adviser (an upperclassman over our hall for those of you that don’t have them)

I then got said RA fired cause I'm petty and found out they started shit while I was dating the ex in question.

I got engaged early 2018 to someone I'd been in love with since I met them. But we were only marrying so I could have his health insurance. He didn't know I was in love with him. But then drama happened, so it got called off. 

I'm now engaged to the same friend again, but this time I'm not in love with him. (Edit: still in love with him just in denial)

New years eve party 2019 I finally got with someone I was interested in two years before and then realized he wasn’t that good.

While my mother was in the hospital I found the cute charge nurse for our floor on Grindr and hooked up. Then he caught feelings and I bailed.

Because of my mother being in the hospital among other reasons, decided to do the semester online rather than go back to campus, and a whole lot of fuckery ensued.

Such as reconnecting with three people I've almost dated in the past and finding out they're all still in love with me.

But not being on campus for a semester meant drifting from a guy I had been really interested in dating eventually. Still feel bad about that.

I once dated someone that went on to get... third place in a season of American idol? Then got blamed for them losing 😒😒😒 cause we broke up partway through the contest cause they were cheating on me. (I'm not gonna put their name or even gender out cause I'd rather not be connected to them.)

Also dated another person that a few years after we lost touch went on to be the bassist for a band that became reasonably popular for a bit before fading to obscurity.

My mother's family used to own all of the land that would become Austin, TX. And that was the poorer side of the family.

But because of cousins cheating my side of the family out of inheritances through the generations and then my mother's poor decisions we're now the poor family.

My grandmother's maiden name was Towles, which was originally Towle, as in Towle Silver. And that wasn’t even the main part of the family’s wealth.

A bit further back in my mother's ancestry are the Bell family. If you've heard of the Bell Witch of Tennessee, you've heard of my many times great grandmother Elizabeth "Betsie" Bell.

My mother was engaged to the then-heir-now-owner of Johnson & Johnson at one point.

Mother was a serial fiancee. She was engaged more times than years shes been alive (she's in her 50s) and hardly remembers any of them.

I've been engaged to... 3 different people? Only cause I usually jump ship before they get the idea in their head to propose.

My maternal grandmother found out that my grandfather had two different wives in other states (he worked for the railroad. Ended up being a multimillionaire before he died) and told him never to step foot in her city again or she'd take him to court for every penny he had (she was the first wife and had two kids by him) but refused to ever divorce him.

His horses were mentioned in his obituary but not my mother or her brother. I think only the two daughters he had by his most recent wife were mentioned out of all of his kids.

My mother's godfather was a hitman. And a few of her cousins were part of the drug side of the mafia. But we don't have anything to do with them anymore.

My mothers first husband was abusive. She hit him so hard with a frying pan that the vibrations in it caused her to drop it. The handle broke when it hit the floor.

She repeatedly beat the same husband's head into the bar of a fold out couch so hard that the bar went from bending slightly upwards to downwards.

Mentioned this in another post, but when I was kidnapped by my own father at the age of 6, my mother called said cousins and had new identities, jobs, and housing set up for us as well as transportation and an extraction team set to kill everyone and rescue me. Thankfully it didn’t have to come to that.

Going back to the Bell thing, supposedly my mothers family have been a long line of mediums, psychics, etc. At least one person in each generation is born with an innate ability to see/commune with spirits or get visions.

It's probably partially because of that I ended up practicing magic as well. Being a witch counts as a reason my life is a fanfic right? Lol

First time I went to a beach (while kidnapped, but before it was revealed I wasn’t going to be returned home) I got lost in the ocean. I was underwater for 10 minutes before washing up on shore perfectly fine.

I've fallen through two ceilings and been perfectly fine. One time I fell right next to a set of stairs. Is this plot armor?

Honestly the sheer amount of times I’ve come within a hair’s breadth of dying or, logically, should have died is insane and many of my friends now believe me to be immortal.

I wasn’t supposed to have been born. My mother was prone to miscarriages and due to scar tissue shouldn’t have even been able to conceive anymore. Plus she went into labor with me at 18 weeks, but they managed to stall it till I was born at 32 weeks. 

They thought I had cystic fibrosis when I was a wee baby and thus didn’t expect me to live. Turns out I just had really really bad allergies. 

Some people believe me to be the reincarnation of my grandmother. I look and act just like her, even have the same taste preferences for the most part, am named after her in two ways, was conceived a week or two after she died, and my original due date was her birthday. Which, just like when she was born, fell on mother’s day that year.

I was born in the middle of March in the American South. What began as rain turned to snow as I was born, and even accumulated enough for my elder siblings to go play out in it.

I have a collagen disorder that, while making me extra flexible, also means I'm prone to injuries, have a poor immune system, could spontaneously have an organ rupture, have spinal issues, bad knees and hips, etc. Also causes migraines and could be a possible cause of my mental illnesses.

Almost every best-friend I've had growing up had admitted to being in love with me. The other two or three admitted to crushing on me.

Despite being the exact opposite kind of person you would expect to be, I was at the top of the social ladder in high school. I was openly LGBT, an art kid, and one of the nerds, but because I was fairly charismatic and great at manipulating authority I had the backing of almost everyone both in the student body and the faculty. Anyone that had a problem with me couldn't act against me without having almost everyone turn against them. It was nice.

I have an unhealthy addiction to coffee. Surely that's a requirement for relatable fanfic protags.

[justaramblingromantic]

superheroes need childcare benefits too

Characters/Pairing: Kobayashi Rindou, Tsukasa Eishi, Tsukasa Hi’en (OC)/EiRin

Type: Superhero!Family!AU, Freestyle

Word Count: 3071

A/N: Inspired by this post. 

This drabble has been sitting in my draft pile for a couple of months already, I think? I was fooling around with the random super power generator and decided to write out something with the results I got, just for fun. Was also in the mood to write cute baby things...so there was that, too, lol. 

The thing about being a superhero was that the benefits suck.

There were no such thing as paid leave or annual bonuses and the nature of the work was akin to voluntary military service to the country so it wasn’t exactly very high paying in the first place, either. In fact, it was something like an anonymous, part time obligation to society on top of juggling a ‘normal’ day job and whatever life issues and familial commitments the ‘normal’ population had to deal with…only maybe with a bit more explosions and dangerous, life-threatening events randomly thrown into the mix.

You get to meet all sorts of interesting people with interesting abilities too, and then, depending on their intentions and alignments, you try your hardest to incapacitate, or outright kill, each other. Fun times.

Rindou quite enjoyed it, actually. The thrill of living a secret double life. The excitement and unpredictability that came with every mission. And who would not enjoy being a superhero? Her partner was something amazing too, and they worked together seamlessly. Their abilities complemented each other extremely well, and after all the years of being paired together, their teamwork was one of the best in the country, for their rank and specialty type, even.

That was just as well, since they were partners in every meaning of the word. They had known each other from a young age and had only grown closer over the years, from teammates to best friends to lovers.

Recently, they had also become parents. And with parenthood, came responsibilities that both were suddenly acutely conscious of, towards the tiny young life that they had made together. Being reckless for the sake of having fun was no longer acceptable. They had to be more careful during assignments now, and for the moment at least, they had also agreed that both should not be going on call at the same time – one would remain at home on baby watch while the other was out performing their civic duty.

“Rindou.” Eishi’s calm, smooth voice spoke over the comm earpiece that she was wearing. “Are you heading home soon?”

“Mm,” she replied distractedly, concentrating on focusing her powers and directing them to work as she intended. Her abilities had always been a bit on the wild side and not very easy to control, and she constantly had to work on them so that they would not get the better of her.

It was a simple rescue mission this time. There was a serious collision between two freight vessels off the shores of Tokyo, just sitting on one of the major shipping routes. She had been activated by the agency because her powers were probably the most useful to deal with an incident of this scale involving huge mobile constructs. The crews of both vessels had already been evacuated and airlifted out of the scene so now it was her turn to flex her muscles and get down to business.

“Can you swing by the store for some milk and eggs on the way back? We ran out.”

“’Kay~” Slit gold eyes grew unnaturally bright as she concentrated, willing all her energy into intense mental focus. Visualizing the bright, glowing rope of power in her mind’s eye, she proceeded to grab firmly onto it and give it a mighty heave.

Just like that, the atmospheric pressure dropped, and the energy around her shifted.

Hovering midair over the vast ocean, a mere fifty feet above where the partially submerged cargo ships were rapidly taking in water and about to sink right in the middle of the high sea traffic zone, the redhead watched musingly as a couple hundred thousand tonnage of steel and freight creaked and groaned ominously as the absolute laws of physics were exerted on them…in an entirely unnatural way.

“Is there anything else that you want me to pick up, dear husband?” she asked cheerfully. She was in a good mood today, and for obvious reasons. The sun was shining overhead, the weather was great. All in all, it was a really nice day to be out and about, even if she had to help haul back to the bay two huge ass ships.

There was a pause, and then her significant other remarked. “You’re just really happy to be finally out of the house, aren’t you?”

Before Rindou could respond, a loud, unintelligible squawk transmitted through the earpiece, followed by what sounded like awkward, unsteady flapping. Both parents winced at the ringing, pitched cry.

“Is that En-chan? What’s he doin’? He sounds energetic.”

“Our son is sitting on my shoulder.” Was Eishi’s reply. “I think he’s screaming for you.”

She could not help but grin at the mental imagery of her somewhat ruffled mate having to stay at home wrestling with their quirky and unruly offspring. The baby was barely six months old but the rapid manifestation of his unique abilities meant that his parents never quite knew what to expect next when it came to him. Regardless, Rindou still thought that her son was the best thing since sliced bread. Eishi more or less rolled with the lofty opinion because he largely felt the same way ever since they handed him the squalling newborn straight out of the delivery suite.

“Geeze, he’s probably just hungry again. Feed him well, Tsukasa~!”

The semi-submerged vessels were no longer sinking. If anything, they were expelling water at an incredible, exponential rate, and starting to recover miraculously from their previous, badly listing conditions. Rindou kept a halfhearted eye on the ships, but her attention was caught more by the slight commotion coming from the other end of the line.

Eishi muttered. “He doesn’t want his bottle. I don’t think he’s even interested in milk right now.”

More indignant chirruping and belligerent rustling could be heard from the other end of the line. The older of the two also seemed to be having quite a time of it pacifying the younger one. “En, settle down. I know you hear her voice, but your mother’s not here.”

There was a querying, unhappy cry of what sounded like a young eaglet. By then, Rindou could not contain her curiosity any longer. Her son had been a normal human baby (a super cute, chubby cheeked one) when she had left the house, but apparently that was no longer the case. She would have been more worried as a mother if not for the fact that this peculiar occurrence happened too often for her to be alarmed anymore. In their household, this type of situation was only normal, when one’s offspring possessed the rare ability to randomly shapeshift.

“Eh? What did En-chan become this time? How come all the interesting things happen only when you’re home alone with him? That’s hardly fair at all!”

There was a brief pause as her husband struggled not to share his actual thoughts on the matter, which more or less amounted to how he would rather have preferred not to have anything interesting happen at all when he was left in charge of watching their only child. Because Hi’en was still very, very young and had no control whatsoever over his powers, the infant often randomly shifted into supernatural creatures that had only been heard of and read about in myths and legends. The first time it happened, the boy was only a couple of months old when he abruptly turned into a phoenix chick, and when the panicked parents found the young creature floundering about in their son’s cot, they had initially thought that someone had stolen their precious offspring only to replace it with this strange looking…scraggly, angry baby bird of unidentified origins…and that which could also random burst into fire.

The problem with their child being able to shapeshift into random mythical creatures was that when he was in those forms, feeding and caring for his needs became a unique challenge. Sometimes Hi’en would stay in one creature form for an hour at most before popping back to his sleepy human baby self, other times, he stuck with whatever form he was most comfortable with for days on end and that was when his parents abruptly realized that (mythical) animal husbandry had also became an important prerequisite when it came to parenthood. This time was no different.

Eishi observed his awkwardly flailing son, all wings, talons, feathers…paws, claws and tail. The wings on the back were still small and not yet fully developed, the feathers all fluffy brownish-bronze baby down and not even molting anytime soon. The body was that of a very young lion cub; soft russet gold fur still speckled with camouflaging spots and clumsy, tapering tail fat and stubby from infancy. The front limbs ended in raptorial, razor talons and the back limbs in feline paws and equally sharp pinprick claws. A fuzzy, aquiline face with beady golden eyes and a sharp hooked beak paid rapt attention to his male parent, who was squinting at the youngster just as discerningly.

Hi’en let loose a series of demanding chirrups and clumsily headbutted his father for attention. Eishi plucked the youngling who had insisted on climbing precariously onto his shoulder when he heard his mother’s voice earlier and cradled his cat-sized child against his chest, barely even flinching when the baby dug his tiny claws into his forearms for stability. The white-haired man balanced the cellphone between his ear and shoulder, distractedly replying Rindou even as he padded into the kitchen with the fussing cub in tow.

“I think he turned into a griffin this time.”

“…Huh. What do those eat?”

That was a very good question, and one which the young parents found themselves asking almost every other week these days.

In the background, the massive constructs that were the damaged shipping vessels were now floating lightly on the shimmering ocean surface, delicate as a pair of drifting feathers. Thanks to her abilities to manipulate gravity and air, sending the ships back to the shipyard for repair would be a breeze. Pun intended.

“Think the packet of raw chicken sitting in the freezer will work?” Rindou asked as she started to gather and shape the climate to obey her will. Her gaze turned upwards, watching the gigantic nimbuses roll in and dim the skies overhead. The barometric pressure quickly dropped further, and the ambient wind speed started to pick up. The previously calm, tranquil waters became more restless, choppy, though not turbulent enough to send the ships back down to the bottom of the ocean. Rindou exerted her will and steadily pushed.

The two vessels slowly started to move, the howling gale and reduced inertia enough to set them both limping in the direction of port. Rindou trailed her responsibilities closely, making sure that they would reach their destination with no unforeseen accidents along the way.

Back home, Eishi obligingly popped open the door of the freezer compartment and pulled out the cellophane wrapped tray of chicken. He presented it to Hi’en, who nudged at the Styrofoam curiously with his beak before recoiling from it with disdain.

“No?” he asked the little griffin. His son peered at him briefly with his slit gold eyes before deciding that his father’s shirt buttons were much more interesting. He started to peck at one of them, trying to pry it off.

“I’ll defrost and cut the meat into smaller strips to see if he wants it,” Eishi spoke into the phone, shutting the freezer door and setting the packet of chicken on the counter to thaw. “I think we should find that anthropology professor at the university again and seek his opinion, just in case.”

Rindou grimaced at the thought of meeting the suspicious, twitchy man once more. She was pretty sure that the man was starting to suspect that something weird was going on with the overly insistent couple who kept asking him overly specific questions regarding the diets and behavioral patterns of legendary creatures that should not exist.

“Alright, if you feel that’s gonna help.” An excellent idea struck her. “Maybe En-chan would want fresh seafood instead. I can rustle up a waterspout and bring some catch of the day home!”

“…Please don’t do that.” Eishi was quick to shoot down the idea before his mate could run wild with it. The last time she did something similar in a misguided attempt at domesticity while harboring delusions of a homemade dinner, it rained fish intermittently over the city for an entire day. “The agency frowns upon that sort of power misuse and we don’t have enough fridge space.”

Rindou grumbled. What use were her powers even if she couldn’t apply them for little things like that?

“Come home soon,” Eishi continued. Their child lifted his head from where he had been gnawing at his father’s shirt and chimed in with an accompanying series of inquisitive peeps and chirps. “We’re looking forward to your safe return.”

Despite her disgruntlement, Rindou’s cheeks warmed happily. “Then I shall, since you asked so nicely.”

When two beings with the recessive mutated genome that gave them unique abilities produce an offspring, it is virtually guaranteed that their progeny would inherit the same metamorphosed DNA sequence as well. However, just because that peculiar gene had been passed down from parents to child did not mean that the latter would end up with the same type of ultra-abilities that either parental units had. As such, having children when one possessed superpowers was very much like entering a lucky draw.

There is an implicit understanding that there will be a special prize, but what it is exactly or how useful it will be is something entirely up in the air until the child’s powers finally chooses to establish themselves.

Even before the birth of their son, Eishi and Rindou had already decided on his name out of two reasons.

The first was for bond. Both parents were distinct air types and spent so much of their time in the skies that they might as well have been born birds themselves. They had flown together, fought together, courted, loved. Their mutual joy, their steadfast devotion to each other… Hi’en was the precious culmination of all this happiness.

The second was for blessing. It was the parents’ sincerest wish for their firstborn that he would always be able to fly as far and as freely as he wanted to, just like a brave and lithe swallow, unfazed and unhindered by all the challenges that he would ever meet in life.

When Hi’en’s powers initially manifested in an unexpected way that turned him into a firebird, his parents wondered if they had perhaps named him a bit too aptly. Even though the kanji ‘Hi’ in his name translated to ‘flight,’ it also shared the same pronunciation for the kanji that denoted ‘fire.’  

Regardless of the fact that their child’s abilities bore no similarities whatsoever with theirs, his parents remained endlessly delighted and fascinated with their strange little chick. All of his little milestones and progresses Eishi noted down meticulously and Rindou cheered for with pride and glee. Hi’en was developing physically and mentally faster than the average infant, though in all likelihood it was because he was switching forms so often. However, all that growing was exhausting for the young baby, and so he ate a lot, and then he slept a lot.

When Rindou returned that evening, it was to a quiet apartment with the lights dimmed. There was a flickering glow emanating from the living room, and when she exchanged her shoes for indoor ones at the genkan and went down the hallway, she discovered that the source of light was from the television, the volume muted so that only the images were playing across the screen. Eishi was sprawled out in the middle of the couch strewn all over with toys, his eyes closed, faintly, halfheartedly humming a lulling song. Curled against his chest was a little ball of fur and feathers, and the little thing must have tuckered himself out after running his father ragged all day, for he barely stirred even when his female parent approached and sank onto the adjacent cushions.

Eishi cracked opened one eye, sleepy lavender meeting quietly amused gold.

“…Okaeri,” he greeted his mate softly. He wasn’t exactly his usual neat, immaculate self. It appeared that even possessing the ability of accelerated thought process was no match to counter the sheer unpredictability of a small but determined infant. Eishi’s hair looked like he had run his hands through it several times that evening alone, his shirt was missing some buttons and partially untucked, and there were unidentifiable stains on his jeans and also on his collar. She thought that he looked manly and attractive all the same, exuding responsible daddy vibes, very irresistible.

“Tadaima,” she mouthed back. Her hand came up, fingers brushing over his crown, trying to help arrange the unrulier locks into some semblance of order. “Looks like you had a nice time with En-chan,” she drawled innocuously, trying not to grin at his visibly disheveled expression. She petted his hair affectionately, at the same time leaning in to brush her lips against his jaw. “You’ve worked hard today, papa~”

He silently tilted his head against hers, his arms already occupied cradling their child. Rindou’s gaze lowered onto where Hi’en was quietly sleeping. His fuzzy little face was barely visible, tucked under one downy front limb as he continued to doze, his little torso gently rising and falling with the cadence of his deep, steady breathing. Just looking at her son made her very happy, regardless of what form he chose to take. He was safe and protected, he was perfectly healthy, and he was growing up well. That was all that mattered.

“…Ah. I forgot the milk and eggs.”

Eishi’s eyes had closed again, and he leaned just a little more into her before she could move away.

“Let’s do that tomorrow… Stay.”

…So maybe she wasn’t the only one who felt a bit lonely now that they wouldn’t be able to take missions together, at least not in the immediate future.

She snuggled down beside him, this boy she loved first long before he gave her another to dote on and adore. Their family might be small and there were also times when it felt like they had no idea what they were doing, but to her, this was perfect.

“’Kay.”

Eishi: Accelerated Thought Process, Mid-Air Combat

Rindou: Gravity Manipulation, Primordial Air Manipulation

Hi’en: Mythical Bestiary, Electric-Fire Manipulation

Chouko: Faithifery, Existence Sense

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

On a post about how Mom felt uncomfortable about seeming smart, and mentioned in passing my family’s “place” in the community...

aconitum-napellus said I was made to feel ashamed constantly for being clever, at school. And they celebrate physical prowess with sports days. There’s nothing public like that for intellectual prowess.

But just to dial back - your family were shot at and threatened? What? Why? WTF?!!!

On another note, I found this post both interesting and profound.

Oh, I always used to grumble about sports being the focus of everything. In fact the cheerleaders were held in higher regard, and here they didn’t even do any acrobatics, just shake their pompoms and ass at intervals. I’m not being nasty but accurate for my school. In fact as far as I can tell the “elite” team of cheerleaders, the “Silver Bullets”, walked around in what looked like silver swimsuits and boots but didn’t even have to do that much. Athletes and cheer leaders were the stars. But good at anything academic? HA! 

As one teacher said when asked why the struggling  students got stickers as rewards and the ones doing well got nothing... “Good grades are their own reward. You don’t need any praise!” Maybe not, but it might have been nice to feel like it was valued. I mean, theoretically the purpose of the school was to teach those “boring” subjects and not just have football and baseball teams!

You wonder about the dangers my family faced...

(I hope you don’t mind me making a new post about this, but it might be a bit long for a re-blog.)

(Ok, it is VERY long!)

I started to say it has to do with the 1960s, but it dates back farther. While my family has had this land since the area was first stolen...sorry ...”settled” by the English, my great grandmother was orphaned as a baby and raised by an older cousin. I don’t know when great grandma and cousin Annie moved back to the farm, but it was after my grandmother grew up in Norfolk, Virginia. Now while the locals didn’t think a couple of old ladies were outsiders, that would NOT be the case when my father’s parents came back to the farm too.

My grandfather was from around Boston, the wild child son of a wealthy dentist. When he he married grandma (they would be married over 50 years BTW) they moved near where he grew up. That would cause problems with certain members of his family for marrying a southerner, and in fact one of his sisters would never consider us “real” family and try to demand back all his belongings when he died. Still, generally, there time living in Massachusetts would always be remembered fondly. “Home” Pop called it.

Unfortunately a childhood illness had damaged gradaddy’s heart and he had become a pack a day smoker. He was told he had months to live, so he quit cold turkey and became a passionate anti-smoker, so much I was shocked to be told he’d ever smoked. Still, his health was fragile and they told him he needed to move south for the climate (really? This crazy place where temps  in January this year  ranged from 9 to over 80 F? Ok...) And so they came to live here on the farm.

Actually, they toyed with moving near Highlands in the mountains, which would have been right down from Mom’s family home in Franklin. Instead they moved here a year or two before Mom and her mother came to live with an aunt after her parents divorced. If I believed in destiny I would think it wanted my parents together! LOL

Anyway, my father and his parents moving here was not welcomed by the community in the 1950s. They were “Yankees”, which around here seems to mean anyone from north of Virginia. Yankee was an insult. They would chase my father home from school throwing bricks at him and there was a general shunning going on. One teacher his senior year burned their gradebook telling the witnesses “Thay will keep that yankee from going to college!” And this was after my father had won some national science prize (sorry, I forget the name...I think the one for the laser came later). In fact my grandfather (who while ultra charming and with an amazing sense of humor was super tough having been a first mate in the Merchant Marines) ended up going out to the school and pinning the principal to the wall, informing him that this was going to be corrected in no uncertain terms. There was a reason my father had no nostalgia for the era. As a child I defiantly self identified as “half yankee” because even that much later it was looked down on.

Even more appalling than where they were from were their attitudes. See, my family believed in the shocking notion that people were people. They had friends of all sorts of backgrounds, including black ones. The current head of the NAACP’s father was friends with my father, and even in the 1980s I remember the shock of bystanders as they greeted each other as “cousin”. They did that, in case you are wondering, because they might very well be since some of our ancestors had owned some of his ancestors. My family did little things like donate turkeys to the local black school (remember segregation) at Christmas. I really don’t know all the small gestures they were involved in) While not super activists they simply refused to treat people the way the local culture demanded. 

There were apparently rumors my family were jewish, and that made them hated too. Now actually they weren’t. On my Mom’s hillbilly side I DO actually have jewish ancestry, but not on the “Wolfe” side that the locals suspected. My family never corrected them because there nothing wrong with being jewish and why even seem to agree that it’s something you shouldn’t want to be? To this day folks still assume we are jewish.

Now between the outsider status and the views on equality, things were going to inevitably get worse as society took a darker turn. As the 1950s became the 1960s both the civil rights movement AND the KKK were active. In fact, not just this region but this state were hotbeds of the KKK. The tensions were high, making my grandfather’s heart problem worse, so my parents (now married) left college before getting their PhDs (Mom always regretted that to come back here to help.

This area in the 1960s was an ugly place, but it had been an ugly place for a long time. Lynchings did happen, in fact my high school English teacher told how her favorite cousin was lynched when she was growing up. Black friends of my parents were beaten up by cops for walking on the “wrong” side of the road. The first time my grandfather visited the area with grandma they saw the aftermath of a mob castration of a jewish man back in the 1920s, but the tensions had gone in waves. The 1960s were one hell of a spike in hate. 

I have no idea if there was an initial trigger to the death threats, but my family started getting them. And I don’t mean veiled threats or anonymous voices on the phone. These were face to face “We are going to kill you!” threats laces with profanity and slurs I won’t use here.   

You must be wondering why they didn’t go to the police. Well they did, but they say the local sheriff was a nice guy but a coward. There was no way in hell he was going to arrest anyone. Instead he told my family that when they come for you shoot, and shoot to kill. Then bury the body in the swamp and never tell anyone what happened. Especially not him. You will notice it was “when” not “if” they come for you, since the reality was very bleak. I don’t know what percentage of the white male population were KKK, but certainly the majority.

My family were effectively on their own to deal with it.  This meant they ended up with three German Shepherds (one a rather scary ex prison guard dog)  and a bunch of guns. They would make a big show of their target practice, especially the fact that Mom turned out to be a crack shot. It runs in her family, with cousins that were top shots in the military, and here is was very handy so they didn’t assume the women folk were easy targets. Guns were kept at the ready, for instance tucked under the table where the fiberglassed in the business they had started or under the seat of the motorboat. These would be sensible precautions. 

Since I wasn’t alive then I can’t really tell you how many times they were shot at. There were many incidents of pot shots meant to frighten them, clearly underestimating my family. Some incidents were more serious.

Take the one where my father and grandfather were out on the river. Someone up the bank made a serious attempt to shoot them. Since they missed either my father or grandfather pulled out the automatic they had (sorry, I forget gun names), one of those military type serious firepower. They returned fire, aiming roughly towards the area they had been fired at from. They got to see their attacker running for his life!

Actually, returning fire but in a sort of “won’t shoot you if you back off” way was something they did a few times.

You know that big boat of ours I’ve posted photos of? Well, they had a big barn they built to construct it in. Naturally the ones that hated them for existing intended to burn it down. Goons were caught crossing our  fields carrying buckets of gasoline to set it ablaze. They were spotted. At gunpoint Pop told them to put the buckets down and get the hell out. He’d chuckle telling it saying  he got a couple buckets of gas out of it. 

And there was the incident where they got word the KKK would be marching through on the highway and intended to burn a cross of out front yard. Pop and Grandaddy parked out in the front yard in chairs with guns on their laps and the dogs at their side, waiting. And along came the KKK. The KKK mob stopped in front of the house, grandaddy made a show of getting his gun ready, and there was a very long pause as the two sides faced each other. Nobody on either side said anything...and then the KKK turned and went on walking.

Anyway, that’s a selection of the stories I was told. My family was scared of course, despite their determination not to be chased off or intimidated. My parents married in 1959 but didn’t dare have kids until the 1970s because it simply wasn’t safe. While things had cooled down by the time I was growing up I was very aware that some folks mysteriously hated my family. I also knew Pop bristled at certain people, like never setting foot in what was then the only store in town. When I asked why he said “A man seriously threatens to kill you to your face you don’t just forget.” 

Generally though, the community did seem to forget.  I expect now the grandchildren of KKK members don’t even know about their beloved family member’s history. I’d like to think some were ashamed, I know for some it was just realizing the tide of society had changed. In their hearts they might hate, but they didn’t want to get into trouble. In public they whispered their slurs, but what they said at home was probably not so quiet. Classmates would whisper to me things, not unlike what their grandparents had said and then be shocked when I loudly disagreed. They didn’t realize my family’s stance. Funny isn’t it they could forget the past but not the underlying hateful attitudes.

 I suppose it’s nice their dislike of me was based on my own merits! LOL

Anyway, sorry to have written so much but a short “They were liberals in the US rural south, which was nothing like 1960′s hippie nostalgia Beatlemania montages.” seemed a bit too short.