#my jeremwood

[miss-ingno]

So @justacoyote did this last year, and I thought it was fun and wanted to give it a try! And then time passed and now I'm late as usual xD

How many works do you have on AO3? currently 210

What's your total AO3 word count? 1,133,881

What fandoms do you write for?

Primarily Guardian, Granting You A Dreamlike Life, and Grimm

Plus a couple on-and-off or exchange-only fandoms like Dreamcatcher's Deja Vu, Disney's Descendants, Naruto, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Eldest Princess On Top (Zhǎng Gōng Zhǔ Zài Shàng), Castlevania (Cartoon) and Assassin's Creed (early games).

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Partners in Crimes (RTAH RPF, Freewood, Fake AH Crew AU) at 907 kudos

Blindfold (RTAH RPF, Freewood, Fake AH Crew AU) at 858 kudos

The Dwight Timing (RTAH RPF, Jeremwood, Fake AH Crew AU) at 653 kudos

Take No Prisoners (Take No Shit), (RTAH RPF, original AH OT6, Fake AH Crew AU) at 581 kudos (my first and oldest work for ragehappy fandom /o\ and it shows lol)

Just Let Me Know If You Want It (It's Strictly Physical), (Dragon Age II, Fenders, omegaverse smut) at 561 kudos

Devil's Deal (Disney's Descendants, Jaylos + Harlos, pre-canon) at 515 kudos

As much as I loved my time back then in RTAH fandom, I do hope to eventually get a fic more popular unrelated to H*ywood, considering what was revealed about his irl behaviour.

For funsies, my top-kudoses Guardian work is Seas Cannot Be Measured (Weilan, outsider pov, kidfic) at 364 kudos. The second work I posted in my current fandom :D!

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes, because I like engaging with other fans! And if someone takes the time to leave me a comment, even a short one, I want to at least thank them because it means a lot to me <3

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably All Our Memories, They're Haunted, a Deja Vu MV fic in which Yoohyeon slowly descends into killing all her friends.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

This one's hard! I write a lot of fluffy one-shots where the point is the happiness? Like, Days of Splendour is literally about Weilan getting their happy ending wedding.

Similarly, Pivot is a fix-it ending for Critical Role season 1, in which Vax doesn't die and Gilmore gets to date him, too.

And The Fringe Benefits Of Being Family is fluffy future kidfic snippets in which Weilan get to be parents while their girls grow up.

Do you get hate on fics?

I once got a backhanded compliment on a fic where the commenter asserted they didn't usually read this ship because the shippers are all sus for shipping it and did it wrong, but my take passed their sniff-test. But they'd keep a close eye on my next work for this ship, just in case.

I vaguely recall getting a comment once and then immediately deleting it, but I can't for the life of me remember why. Probably for the best?

And there was that ask I once got that sticks in my brain because it was HILARIOUS. It asserted that because I have a recognizable style and used things like. Grammar and paragraph formatting for pacing, my writing was dry and boring and the worst and I just was copying myself with every new fic. I screenshot it and had a good laugh with friends over it :D

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, and a lot of different kinds! Sometimes I want to explore certain kinks, like tentacles (What Lies In Darkness, Weilan with eldritch!Shen Wei) or D/s (Good Vibrations, Dom!ZYL with sub!Shen Wei). Other times I just want to explore the relationship between the characters (Special Occasion, Weilan birthday blowjob) or worldbuilding (Long Night In Longcheng, Weilan canon au with dragon!Shen Wei).

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I love crossovers! I sadly haven't written too many, though. I have some old WIPs for a Naruto x Batman Beyond and a YGO! x SG-1 crossovers in my pile I occasionally return to, but nowhere close to finished. And I'm seriously considering writing a Guardian x Grimm crossover at some point lol

Malum Purificatum, Guardian x Assassin's Creed II (AKA Weilan meets Ezio)

It's You And Me (Amongst The Stars), Critical Role s1 x Stargate SG-1, in which Pike & Grog meet SG-1

Sink Your Teeth In (To The People You Depend On), Jurassic World x MCU, raptor!Darcy Lewis/Owen Grady, unfinished WIP

A Trickster's Pact, ragehappy x MCU, Freewood

One Fact Changes All, YGO! x HP, Tendershipping, my first and oldest crossover, unfinished and abandoned

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

The closest I got (that I'm aware of) is someone copying the exact premise of my fic in a beat-by-beat way without crediting me for the inspiration. It was memorable because it was my most popular fic at that point and the fandom didn't have a similar premise before.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Recently someone Furimmer translated my story An Intimate Touch into Russian! First time someone found my fic worth it to translate, I'm so happy still just thinking about it :D (It's also interesting to see they chose a different snippet to highlight in the summary, ha! That one seemed to resonate with them more. Can't blame them ;) )

Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have! @itskaysno is a wonderful co-pilot <3

What's your all-time favorite ship? Weilan (Guardian), Nick/Renard/Juliette (Grimm), and Jane/Uma (Disney's Descendants). I tend to be a multishipper, but these never fail to get me in the feels :D

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? Of my posted WIPs: Hey Baby (I Think I Wanna Marry You), Shipwreck Isles, Your Prince Is In Another Castle, and Triple Duke Coup. Probably Ghost of a Chance, too, unless I get inspired by writing different YGO! fic to pick it up again. I'm 50-50 on whether I'll find motivation to finish Let Your Hearts' Melody Entwine With Mine

Of my unposted WIPs, if I've moved on from the fandom, I'm unlikely to put them up. That's why I posted a deluge of WIPs when I left the ragehappy fandom, because I couldn't see myself picking them up again, but I also regularly regret not e.g. having posted certain Naruto fic way back when I was writing them. Now the quality just doesn't hold up to my current standard, but I'm not going back to edit them, either.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm pretty good at dialogue and fighting scenes! I practiced writing fighting scenes a lot because they used to be one of my weak spots, and now I'm comfy where I'm at skill level wise. I like pitting characters against each other, too, though I still have room for improvement in that area.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Environmental storytelling. Character conflict that lasts longer than a handful of scenes. 15k+ longfic (I'm terribly at keeping myself motivated to write them and then never finish). Slow burn and character/relationship development that takes a while to get to (keeping characters consistent but still having them change is hard to juggle! Especially since I have a tendency to write scenes out of order)

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

If it's a language I know, I'm comfortable with it! It needs to be done for effect, though. Unless we're talking prefixes/suffixes and other addresses of respect/relation that just don't translate well (e.g. yifu, shixiong, xiao/lao, -kun, -senpai, etc.) but reveal information about the exact way characters relate to each other.

First fandom you wrote for? Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (back on German fanfic site Animexx). It was a self-insert OC portal fic where she ends up with Seto Kaiba xD I think I named her Leia or similar? I forget.

Favorite fic you've written?

The fic I'm writing for FFFX rn is a serious contender for top spot, if I manage to pull it off the way I imagine it.

I'm still pretty proud of Two Of A Kind (Guardian, Ya Qing/Zhu Hong & Shen Wei) and Safe In Your Hands (Weilan, post-canon with smut). The older a work is, the more I tend to see the flaws in it :') so my answers usually tend to be pretty recent stuff!

@itskaysno @ganglylimbs @elenothar @the-marron @sasamelons @sailorbryant @yilian0203 @treemaidengeek if any of you (or anyone else!) would like to do this, too, feel yourself tagged <3

[redvsvblue]

Some commissioned NSFW Jeremwood with monster!Jeremy and ovi! Thank you <3!  Warnings: ovi 

The door's barely even shut behind them before Ryan's on him, fisting a hand in his shirt and tugging him back in against the wall - Jeremy follows eagerly, discarding his glasses on the side table and resting his hands on Ryan's hips to push him more firmly against the plaster. Ryan grunts into his mouth, a small, pleased noise that makes Jeremy shiver. His kisses are hot and desperate, his hands roaming over Jeremy's body to untuck his shirt, unbuckle jeans, muttering something against his lips that Jeremy misses.

"Huh?" He asks intelligently, blinking up at Ryan. Ryan's cheeks flush pink.

"Can you - " he clears his throat " - can you drop the cover?"

Jeremy clocks it instantly, and smirks. Ryan flushes brighter.

"In that sort of mood tonight, huh?" He says - Ryan nods, his hands still curled in Jeremy's shirt, and Jeremy happy obliges his request.

His head swims with the sudden influx of his natural heightened senses, layers of scent and touch and taste mixing together to make him feel wine drunk for a moment or two - but then it passes, as he adjusts, and Ryan sucks in an aroused breath, his hands dropping to curl around Jeremy's forearms instead.

There's a word for what Jeremy is, lost somewhere in ancient languages, and if they ever bothered to look it up, a library would surely have a matching description, of a human shaped thing that's just a little off in all the right places - well, the right places in Ryan's opinion.

But Ryan's never really been particularly bothered about the history. All he knows is that once Jeremy drops the human cover - sort of like glamour, he guesses - his grip turns to iron on Ryan's hips, pinning him to the wall with a strength ten times his own, and it makes him breathless every single time, his knees going weak at just the thought of Jeremy's power. And this time, when Jeremy kisses him, there's a hint of sharp teeth nipping at his lip.

Ryan groans when he tests the grip, trying to rock up and failing - Jeremy growls against his mouth, grinning as he effortlessly pins Ryan in place, grinds his hips in to tease.

And the bulge that presses against Ryan's is significantlybigger than his. Ryan shudders.

"Here?" Jeremy asks, kissing at Ryan's lower lip in a very distracting manner. Ryan nods.

"In my wallet," he mumbles, and jumps at the appearance of Jeremy's tail around his waist, slipping into his back pocket to deftly retrieve his wallet.

With no more warning than a breath, Jeremy suddenly flips Ryan around, pinning him face-first to the wall with one hand on the middle of his back - Ryan thunks his forehead against the wall and moans, watching as the tail undoes his belt with its split end. His jeans fall to the floor and, a moment later, his wallet thuds there too, Jeremy ripping open the packets of lube with his teeth and winding his tail around Ryan's cock as he slicks up his fingers.

Ryan shudders at the sensation of teeth on his neck, nipping up a little trail of marks down his jugular as fingers rub at his hole, pressing in and in with gentle circles until Jeremy finally eases one in, crooking it to make Ryan jump and moan brokenly, caught between the tail and Jeremy's hand. The best part is that he can't move much at all, not with the tight grip Jeremy has on his hip, allowing him only enough movement to tease himself - he whimpers quietly against the plaster and Jeremy curses under his breath, abruptly twisting in a second finger. Ryan rises up on his toes instinctively but Jeremy urges him back down easily, thrusting his fingers into him in a strong, steady rhythm that makes him shiver all over. Jeremy's tail is still jacking him, wrapping over the head and dragging down in a pleasant, toe-curling stroke.

By the time Jeremy's four fingers deep in him, Ryan's so close he almost can't support himself - not that he has to worry, with Jeremy's hand tight on him, and the tail pauses to squeeze at the base to edge him, keeping him so close to the edge but not going over, and it's so frustrating that Ryan can't help but groan. Unfortunately for him, that only seems to encourage Jeremy.  

"Y'ready?" Jeremy asks into his shoulder, sounding as breathless as Ryan feels, and Ryan nods again, eagerly rolling his hips down to emphasise his point. Jeremy nods as well, withdrawing his hands and his tail from Ryan so he can unzip himself - Ryan slumps against the wall, panting, glancing back over his shoulder to watch.

Jeremy's more than impressive - in either form, really, but Ryan prefers this one. Definitely long enough, and almost as thick as his wrist, and drooling pre-come just from the foreplay - Ryan's mouth waters reflexively and he has to remind himself to swallow before getting in a better position, bracing his arms and shuffling his legs a little wider as Jeremy steps between them again, rubbing his dick against Ryan's ass in possibly the worst tease yet - the tail flicks around again to brush over his slit, and Ryan jerks.

Jeremy doesn't waste time with more teasing, thankfully, just steadies an arm around Ryan's chest and tugs up his shirt so he can guide himself inside, easing in inch by thick inch, slow and steady and just how Ryan likes it, the faint ache making his cock twitch in the tail's grip.

"Fuck," Jeremy groans, pausing halfway in. "Jesus, Ry, you're always so tight."

Ryan can't really form words right now, so he settles on just making a pleased whimper instead, turning to catch Jeremy's lips in a sloppy kiss. He rolls his hips back deliberately, and Jeremy slips in a couple more inches, gasping into Ryan's mouth.

"Impatient," he teases, breathlessly, and tugs Ryan back the last few inches, until he's sunk in all the way - Ryan lets out a shaky exhale and presses his forehead to the wall once more, slowly adjusting to the new thickness inside him.

"Jer - " he pants, and Jeremy rewards him with a lazy stroke, making him tighten up and moan all over again, his knees weak with anticipation. Jeremy's skin is inhumanly hot against his own.

The tail slides slowly down his shaft to curl tightly around the base as Jeremy starts moving - starting with slow thrusts, and eventually building up to the fast ones Ryan prefers, barely even sliding out before he's rocking back in, wet and loud and satisfying. Pre-come drools from Ryan's cock with the denial, his moans turning more and more into pathetic whimpers as Jeremy fucks him, one hand over his own and the other holding him steady by a hip. Jeremy bites a bit more carelessly at Ryan's neck and shoulder, worsening the hickeys already there and layering them with fresh ones, bright red and sensitive, sending another series of pleasantly painful tingles through Ryan - his toes curl and his dick twitches violently, none of him even remotely soothed by the tail, and Jeremy groans hotly against his pulse-point.

"'M close," Jeremy says, his thrusts noticeably more frantic. Ryan whines against the wall, rolling his hips in time to desperately try and get himself off.

"P-Please," he begs, and Jeremy's teeth sink into his skin the same time his hips snap in, his whole body shuddering behind Ryan with his orgasm.

The feeling of Jeremy's come inside him is almost enough to send Ryan over the edge, but the tail stays tight around him, holding him off just a little bit longer for -

Ryan moans embarrassingly loudly at the sensation of something bigger pushing inside him, panting with Jeremy as the first egg settles deep in him. Jeremy calms a little, just kissing gently up and down Ryan's neck as he unloads in him, the second egg jostling the first to settle beside it. Ryan whimpers at the fullness, writhing instinctively when the tail starts stroking him again, this time with the fullest intent to get him off. He can feel lube and Jeremy's come leak back out of him, displaced by the third - and fourth, fuck - egg, making him even messier, dripping back down onto Jeremy and the floor and probably his jeans, but stains are the last thing he's worrying about right now. Jeremy's slowly pulling out to make room for the eggs as well, a few more inches out when he pumps the fifth one in with a groan.

Already, Ryan's so full, fidgeting and whining as come pumps out around the eggs, slicking him up more and leaking back down his thighs - Jeremy's strength holds him firmly in place, forcing him to just take it, and god he fucking loves it, caught between thrusting forward and humping back, squeezing around Jeremy and the eggs just to feel them move inside him. One particular move presses one right against his prostate, and Ryan almost comes right there and then, trying to keep it at the right angle and whimpering when Jeremy's next little hip-roll pushes it even harder onto that spot. Pre-come drips from Ryan's cock and over the tail.

His skin feels like it's on fire, he's so close, rocking up desperately between the sixth egg and the tail, eyes squeezes shut and hands balled into fists, his moans broken and frantic, Jeremy's name stuck on his tongue like a plea when he finally comes, shuddering almost enough to make Jeremy slip out completely - but Jeremy keeps him upright with that inhuman strength, his tail slipping wetly on Ryan's dick as he shoots on the wall, panting and whimpering as it flips to sharply painful oversensitivity, and Jeremy slows and stops just before tears spring to Ryan's eyes.

For a moment, Ryan forgets how to exist, sucking in one breath after another and slumping heavily against the wall - and when he shifts again, he's reminded of just why he's so full, and he groans, his cock twitching valiantly. Jeremy's panting quietly on his shoulder, his arm crossed over Ryan's chest as the tail withdraws, wiping itself on Ryan's shirt. If he had any of his brain left, Ryan would glare playfully at it, but as it is, he can hardly remember his own name. Jeremy slips out, reaches down to press gently on Ryan's hole, lightly jostling the eggs and keeping them inside.

Ryan swears under his breath. Jeremy leans in to kiss under his jaw, his other hand dropping down to shove up under Ryan's shirt and rub over his middle, where he's bulging out a little from the eggs. He knows Jeremy can smell his arousal, must be drenched in it, so he shifts a little to kiss him instead, lazy, and sloppy, and pretty much perfect.

"Was that good?" Jeremy asks in a murmur, rubbing in little circles, pressing down on the bulge. Ryan shivers at the pleasant reminder.

"Fuckin' great," he replies, wiggling his hips a bit to move the eggs. They're in no rush - they'd long figured out that the eggs were of no danger to Ryan, and the only options were to either get them out or just let them dissolve in him. Ryan preferred the latter; it let him revel in the aching fullness for a little longer, and he knew it satisfied the mating instinct deep in Jeremy's hindbrain, the part that made the eggs in the first place.

Jeremy's tail brushes gently against Ryan's dick; Ryan jerks and whimpers weakly at the sensitivity, but he doesn't stop Jeremy just yet. Jeremy's fingers rub teasingly at his hole, gently pushing on the eggs, just enough to make Ryan shiver all over. Now that the initial haze of pleasure has passed, he realises just how stretched he is with them, looks down at the visible bulge and swallows down another tiny moan at the sight.

For a few more moments, they stand there panting, sharing brief kisses over Ryan's shoulder. Jeremy tucks his nose under Ryan's jaw just to smell him, and under the fading arousal, and the scent of Ryan full with his come and eggs, there's a calm scent - contentment, Jeremy recognises it as, and Ryan's happy sigh when he rubs his middle only confirms it for him. Ryan's legs shake with the next lazy stroke of Jeremy's tail, so Jeremy stops to hold him steady instead, murmuring a question into his ear.

"Wanna go sit down?"

Ryan nods, a little sheepishly, and Jeremy smiles against his shoulder, zipping himself up before working on gently guiding Ryan over to the sofa to lie down - Ryan always likes staying close after this sort of...activity, and Jeremy can't deny that his mating sense calls for the exact same kind of easy, warm affection. He fits them together easily, spooning up behind Ryan and thumbing idly at the bruises on Ryan's hips as Ryan gets comfy, tugging Jeremy's hand back over to tangle their fingers together over his bulging abdomen.

"Love you," Jeremy says, and Ryan hums contentedly, if sleepily. Jeremy stifles his laugh and opts to kiss Ryan's shoulder instead, winds his tail around Ryan's hips to hold him as close as possible. They'll have to shower soon, but it can wait.

[monarchisms]

【 (っ´･ᴗ ･`)  o⊂(>﹏<  ) 】

[achieverooster]

BATTLE BUDDIES

(EPILEPSY WARNING, THERE ARE FAST MOVING IMAGES IN THIS VIDEO) 

[writerofshit]

When it comes out that Jeremy and Ryan are sleeping together, they only tell Geoff because hes crew leader and he's thrown a fit over being the last to know about everyone else's various relationships

Geoff turns around and tells everyone else since the two in question have fucked off to only-god-knows-where to let everyone get their surprise and jokes and questions out of their systems

Gavin totally feigns his shock with a "wait wait waits so the Battle Buddies-"

Michael and Jack, simultaneously "More like Fuck Buddies- Goddamnit!!"

[sorcererinthestars]

Pastries and Other Sweet Things

For the @rtwritingcommunity‘s Secret Springfairy prompt! When I find out my recipient’s tumblr, I will make sure to tag them here. Until then - I hope you enjoy, Rowen! :)

TW: domestic abuse mentions, food/body shaming

WC:  4180 Prompt:  Jeremwood bakery AU — oh god, Jeremy just has the BIGGEST crush on the guy with the sweet tooth that comes in every damn day. It’s a shame Ryan only seems to have eyes for the desserts.

-

Life was normally pretty easy running a bakery, most of the time. Jeremy rarely had to deal with unruly customers or people who didn’t pay. His bakery was located on the corner of Earl and Somerset, near the grocery store, and he had a pretty normal stream of regulars that would come in and out. The worst of his problems boiled down to quietly ushering sobbing customers out when his bakery was the chosen spot for a breakup. But a cookie and a smile normally helped soothe the worst of broken hearts.

He thought so, anyways.

Today was a day like any other. He made himself busy behind the counter, done serving the lunch rush looking for his sandwiches made on his fresh-baked bread, when the bell over the door rang. Expecting just any customer, he looks up with a smile, wiping his hands on his apron and moving to the cash register to take the order.

When he saw the man, though, his heart dropped out of his chest and down towards his shoes. Holy shit. He’d never seen this man before. He would fucking know if this specimen came into his store before now. With dusty blond hair, a dad bod that was just on the right side of chiseled, and a dumb ass backwards cap on his head, the man was attractive in a way that meant he had no idea, which was genuinely all sorts of appealing for Jeremy, who was used to dating men (and women) who knew they were attractive and boasted about it constantly.

He shoves back memories of his last messy breakup and grins brightly at the new customer, happy they were - for now - alone. “Hey,” he hums. “How can I help?”

“Hi,” the man says back and Jeremy’s toes curl in his shoes at that delightful baritone. “Are those cannolis?”

“Fresh baked,” Jeremy chuckles. “I grew up in Boston and learned from the best. These rival Mikes, if you can fuckin’ believe that.” Shit. He needed to remember not to swear in front of customers, but the man just made him feel at ease. Thankfully, it made the blond smile back. “Don’t know what Mikes’ is, but I’ll try one for sure, thanks.”

Jeremy nods breathlessly at that smile and grabs a cannoli, placing it on the top of the counter. “Is this for here or are you taking it out with you?”

The man frowns, glancing at his watch, and swears a bit. “Fuck, I promised my boyfriend I’d meet him outside his work in ten. Can I get another to go?”

Boyfriend. Well, that took the wind out of his sails. Jeremy tried not to show the disappointment that curled in his stomach at the statement. Of course a hottie like that had a boyfriend - although, he had to admit, boyfriend wasn’t a bad first sign. And relationships didn’t last forever, right...?

Fuck, Dooley, you were getting desperate. He needed to find someone soon or he was going to start stalking his customers and that would be a workplace violation if he ever fuckin’ saw one. He forces the grin back on his face. “Sure. Your boy have any special tastes in cannoli?”

“Plain.” The man didn’t even seem to be looking at him now. Instead, he was glancing at his phone in a semi-nervous fashion, seeming much more agitated since he realized he may be late. “Can you move quick? I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

Jeremy raises his eyebrow but doesn’t protest, placing both cannolis in a single box and wrapping it with his special ribbon. “For the both of you,” he purrs a bit as he hands the bag over. The man smiles a bit distractedly. “Thanks.”

“For sure. That will be $7 with tax.” The man digs a five and two ones out of his wallet and hands it over and for a moment their hands brush as Jeremy goes to take the cash. The customer looks a bit startled and glances up, making real eye contact with Jeremy for what seemed like the first time. He swallows, eyes flicking up and down Jeremy’s form, and Jeremy forces himself not to grin. Ah. So, some interest then.

“Thanks - uh - ,” he says again, a bit more strained, looking for a nametag.

“Jeremy,” he supplies readily. “And it’s my pleasure. I bake all of these myself.”

“Do you?” the man blurts. “They look delicious. I - uh - gotta go, but thanks Jeremy.”

The way his name sounded in the other man’s mouth was positively delightful and Jeremy had to force himself from reacting. Get a grip, genius. He just smirks back a bit. “Hope you enjoy and spread the word if you like them.”

The other lingers a bit in the doorway as if he wants to stay, but he just nods and slips out, seeming like he takes Jeremy’s light with him. Jeremy slumps against the counter, humming softly to himself as he plays back the memory.

--

As does all good things when they’re not nurtured, the memories of the mysterious customer fades from Jeremy’s mind over the next few days in the bustle of the weekend rush. He doesn’t give another thought to the man other than a vague warmth until suddenly, he’s back.

He slips in again with the Monday lunch rush and Jeremy doesn’t even notice him until he’s back up at the counter. “Hi,” he says again, but this time he seems a bit more agitated than before. Jeremy doesn’t push, too thrilled to see him again. He beams at the other man on the other side of the counter. “I remember you!” he says - hoping that wasn’t uncomfortable. “Back for more cannolis? I told you that they were the best in this city.”

The blond huffs out a bit of a breathy laugh and Jeremy takes that as his own personal victory. “Yeah. My boyfriend loves them. He - uh - requested I grab two more on my way over to meet him for lunch.”

“That so?” Jeremy asks as he starts to pack two up, not exactly liking how the word ‘requested’ hung in the air. “You eat with him every day?”

“Yeah,” the man says distantly, poking at the counter as he stares at all the sweet treats. “It’s not so far of a walk. We meet up and eat in the little park outside his office when the weather is nice.”

“That’s nice,” Jeremy says, figuring he may as well be supportive. The man was adorable, the way he looked so earnestly at the sweets, the almost childlike passion in his eyes. “I heard it’s romantic if you like - Lady and Tramp the cannoli. One on each end.” He smirks a bit.

“Oh, I don’t eat much,” the other says a bit distractedly. “John says I need to watch my weight. Doesn’t want me developing a dad bod.” He pops up to look at Jeremy and chuckles a bit as if the statement didn’t ring terribly in Jeremy’s ears. He pats his belly. “We’re getting there. But fuck, your cookies do look beautiful.”

“Taste better than they look,” Jeremy says quietly, giving the other a concerned look he can’t hide. The other seemed so .... kind. Funny, gentle, and amazingly beautiful. To think that his boyfriend wasn’t letting him have a fucking cannoli made Jeremy’s blood boil. But he doesn’t say anything. He worked at the damn bakery. Who was he to get involved?

He rings up the cannoli, the guy hands over his $7, and gives him an earnest look. “Thanks. My name is Ryan by the way. I think I’ll be back.” He shoots Jeremy an actual smile, nodding at him a bit, and disappears out the door.

Turning back to the line of some of his more regular customers - one of them smirking at the hearts in Jeremy’s eyes - he tries not to think about Ryan, his beautiful customer, and the potentially problematic confessions he gave over a counter to a stranger.

--

Ryan starts to make regular, daily appearances during the rest of the work week. Jeremy’s crush doesn’t get any better. If anything, he finds himself falling deeper and deeper for the man and the cannoli, counting down the minutes until 1:15pm when Ryan arrives, sometimes breathless from his run over here.

He finds out Ryan likes Diet Coke and always has one fresh pulled from the fridge. When it’s slow, they get into more teasing arguments over the counter. Jeremy tries to convince him that it’s the Diet Coke that’s going to kill him over the sweets and he should try coffee or tea or something, Ryan joking back that it was a brown-liquid-filled grave that was awaiting him and he was okay with that.

Jeremy never once sees Ryan eat one of his baked goods over that week, but doesn’t press. What can he do? Despite their borderline flirting, he knows Ryan has a boyfriend. One he likes quite a lot, despite the disturbing things Jeremy heard on that second meeting. Ryan will sometimes mention this ‘John’ in passing when they are talking - interestingly, more often when they’re edging closer and closer to actually flirting. 

He takes this as his cue to back off. He’s not going to be a dick. 

However, the meetings with Ryan are the bright spot in his otherwise boring days. He loves learning everything he can about the other in the few minutes he has with him. He starts wrapping up the two cannoli early so he can have a bit more time to just talk to Ryan, to see him smile and the corners of his eyes wrinkle.

He can’t stop thinking about his lips. How his body must look under all those clothes. Late at night, when he closes up the shop and disappears to the apartment upstairs, he lays on his couch and tries to fill his thoughts with anyone other than the blond asshole who had utterly consumed his thoughts with this stupid ass crush.

It would be creepy, he tells himself, if he acted on this fixation. But he doesn’t, other than casual flirting that he stops when and if he sees Ryan getting uncomfortable. It’s just a crush and it feels nice to be in love for once. It’s been a while since he’s crushed on anyone, for it to be anything other than a night of hot lust and an empty bed in the morning.

Jeremy can’t help but admit to himself he wants something real. He’s not going to get that with Ryan, certainly, but he can nurture something like a middle school crush if it doesn’t do any harm and makes him feel nice and giddy when the other walks in.

--

That Friday at 1pm, Jeremy’s just finishing wrapping up the cannolis when the bell rings over his shop door. He looks up and sees the familiar sandy hair and grins brightly again. “Ryan! Welcome back.” Except, this time, Ryan’s not alone. A man follows. Bigger, built more like a traditional football player. Muscles. While he doesn’t have height on Ryan, who was a taller man himself, he does have a build of a man who wasn’t easy to oppose. A man who was used to getting his way. Attractive, if you were into the big muscly types. Jeremy, who prides himself on being pretty jacked himself, wasn’t into that.

Must be John. 

Jeremy forces himself to settle down and treat John like any other customer, even though the few things he had heard about the man over the course of their warm counter conversations weren’t at all pleasant.

“Hey Jeremy,” Ryan says, smiling a bit, but Jeremy can instantly tell it doesn’t reach his eyes. Which were slightly red. Was he rubbing at them, or was it the remnants of tears he sees? Ryan doesn’t seem like the guy who would cry easily. He’s got his jacket on. He doesn’t normally wear his jacket. Jeremy doesn’t want to follow that road to its inevitable conclusion.

He doesn’t push. What can he say? In the end, he’s a fucking store clerk. His crush doesn’t mean he can try to invade this guys’ life.

“We want the two cannolis,” John says, stepping somewhat in front of Ryan and glaring at Jeremy like he wanted to intimidate him. But Jeremy fought for fun. He grew up in Boston. He wasn’t going to let this guy intimidate him. So he stands tall, meeting his gaze easily, and takes the pre-prepared box with the dumb red ribbon he had carefully wrapped around it, sliding it over.

John takes the box wordlessly, glancing at it. He pulls the ribbon off and drops it on the floor without breaking eye contact with Jeremy and steps on it, putting the cannolis on the counter by the cash register.

Ryan steps forward. “John, don’t be a fucking dick, Jeremy’s got nothing to do with this.”

“He’s got everything to do with this,” John growls. “Shut up.” 

Ryan falls silent. Jeremy hates it. He hates it with every fiber of his being. The way Ryan, with his bright eyes and soft smile, the way he seemed to give up to the other with the look of constant frustration. His eyes flick over to Jeremy and the other meets them.

Something in Jeremy’s stomach flips. So, the attraction was mutual. All the days Jeremy thought that maybe the flirting was reciprocal even though Ryan spent most of the time salivating over the pastries were validated. Ryan liked him. And John wasn’t happy about it.

“You’re hitting on my fuckin’ boyfriend,” John says lowly, looking over the counter at Jeremy. His eyes narrow and he slams the box of cannolis down, crushing them. “I thought these were a gift, for me, from a loving boyfriend, but instead they were a pity gift from a slut who just wanted to make moon eyes at the whore behind the pastry counter.”

He whips around to glare at Ryan, who set his jaw in a furious way. “Don’t say that. Just because I was done with you being a possessive piece of shit doesn’t mean that I was fucking thinking about cheating on you.” Ryan takes a step forward.

It happens quickly after that. Jeremy, with a lot of knowledge of street fighting, sees the spring uncoil in John’s shoulder two milliseconds before the fist crashes into the side of Ryan’s face, sending the man sprawling sideways. “You’re a slut!” John snarls, stalking forward.

Jeremy both praises and curses the fact that the shop was empty at this point - maybe other people would have stopped it from escalating this far - but he couldn’t do anything about it now. He leaps over the counter and springs over, grabbing John’s arm before he could hit Ryan again, who was sitting up with fire in his own eyes. “You fucking ass!” 

“Don’t talk back to me!” John howls, moving to hit again. But he must be used to dealing with weaker men than Ryan and Jeremy. Jeremy doesn’t know how long Ryan had been dealing with this man hitting him, yelling at him, calling him names, but finally it looked like he had enough. Originally, he was going to jump in to defend Ryan from any further attacks, trying to stop any more damage to his store than what was already caused by the fight, but Ryan didn’t seem to need help.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Ryan snarls, shoving John viciously and sending the other stumbling backwards. John seemed to realize he was cornered between two people who didn’t seem to like him all that much and he stumbles towards the door with an angry look. 

“Fine,” he snaps. “I don’t want a whore as a boyfriend anyways.”

Ryan just flicks him off and balls his fists as the other turns and leaves them alone. There’s a beat of just breathing as Ryan watches his now ex-boyfriend stalk down the street, back towards his work and out of Ryan’s life. For now, at least.

Then he turns and glances at one of the splintered chairs, which had cracked as Ryan fell on it with the punch. The shifted tables. And ultimately, the smushed box of cannoli. “....fuck, Jeremy... I’m - I’m so sorry, I never could have...”

“Shhh,” Jeremy says quickly, moving over to him and boldly taking his hand, glancing up to the face of the other man, who - with the fading adrenaline - now looked stressed. “Stay here.”

He moves to flick the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and Ryan gives him a confused look. “I can help you clean...”

“You need that face looked at,” Jeremy breaks in. “I’ve taken a lump or two in my day and unless you get ice on it now, you’re gonna have a hell of a shiner. Sit.” He pushes Ryan into one of his chairs. “I’ll be right with you, okay?”

Ryan - bewildered and settling into a bit of a panicked breakdown - just nods. 

Jeremy hates seeing him like this, but was just happy John was seemingly out of the picture. He rattles down his mental list of what to do after a fight, having been in a lot of them in his college and high school days. He trashes the broken chair, rearranges the furniture, sweeps the dirt from the footsteps off the floor, and fixes disturbed centerpieces on his few tables before moving back over to Ryan, crouching so he can look him in the eyes. 

The blond is forcing himself to breathe quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose in order to focus, but looks up when Jeremy bends down in front of him. “Hey,” he says weakly. “I can fuck off, I’m sorry - can I give you money for the chair... for the inconvenience to your shop...?”

“Fuck that,” Jeremy says, startling Ryan enough that he actually focuses for the first time on Jeremy, blinking. “I’m sor--”

“Stop apologizing,” Jeremy cuts him off. “I’m fucking impressed, dude. That guy has obviously been a source of mental shit in your life for a long time and you were ready to kick his ass even though he just laid you out. That takes balls. It was honestly really hot.” He smiles a bit, his cheeks turning red as Ryan’s ears burn the same crimson.

“Come upstairs to my apartment,” Jeremy coaxes. “No strings attached and I swear to god, I’m not going to do anything other than to just get you some ice and a more comfortable place to relax.”

Ryan bites his lip for a moment and then smiles back despite how it pulls on the already-forming shiner near his eye. He stands and takes Jeremy’s hand.

--

As the clock strikes five, Ryan is still in Jeremy’s small apartment. He’s wrapped in a quilt, a bag of frozen peas on his face. Jeremy sits next to him but far enough apart that it wasn’t weird.

Conversation had varied. Jeremy had called the police, informing them of a domestic abuse altercation that happened at his shop, giving them John’s description. They promised to keep additional cruisers in the area, just in case.

They had just sat for a while, Jeremy’s tv flickering across an episode of The Office, a show they had talked about over one of their weekly meetings. Ryan still seemed shaken. Understandable. From what Jeremy could glean and learned over their week, Ryan lived with John from only a few months into their relationship. It was a good one at first - John had a good job and liked to take Ryan out; they had fun together. But Ryan was quickly taught the rules of this relationship and by the time he knew them for real, he was in too deep to climb out without a catalyst like what had just happened.

Jeremy got it. And didn’t press. Although, he couldn’t help but think of the fact that the current man of his desires was sitting on the couch he had once laid on while fantasizing about him only a few days beforehand.

Finally, Ryan spoke up. “Thanks,” he says quietly, pushing the quilt down and adjusting his seat a bit. “Seriously. I couldn’t have asked anyone to do what you did.”

“What? Stand there like an ass while he hit you and then offer you ice? That’s not exactly heroic.”

“Open your house for me. And don’t lie, you were ready to leap in there.”

Jeremy shrugs. “I guess so. Fighting is nothing new for me.”

“And yet you opened a bakery?” 

“I’m full of surprises,” Jeremy flirted and then bit his lip. “I - I just flirt. Listen, Ryan, I’ll be blunt. I like you. A lot. I’m not asking for anything, I know you literally are currently dealing with a messy-ass breakup, but... I’ll be the whore behind the counter if you wanted me to be.”

There’s a silence. Ryan stares at him for a long moment. Jeremy just sits there, hands folded in his lap so he doesn’t rip the shit out of his fingers picking the skin from anxiety. 

Then Ryan surges forward, grabbing Jeremy’s shirt, and before Jeremy can do or say anything, they’re kissing fervently. Not used to being manhandled, Jeremy goes to grab Ryan’s hands and direct the kiss, but he knows this is just as much Ryan’s show of dominance and authority after what had been done to him, so he lets the other do what he wants.

And it’s good. Fuck, it’s so good, a kiss fueled not only by lust and curiosity but also a crush that had been nurtured for days, stirring something down in his gut and making it burn, a kiss fueled by the desperation of a man who hadn’t kissed anything he wanted to kiss in months.

When Ryan’s tongue slips into Jeremy’s mouth, he lets it, making a breathless little moan that causes Ryan to miss a beat as he reacts. It’s messy and sloppy and fast, no one knows what they’re doing, but if this is what Ryan thinks he needs, Jeremy is not going to say no.

Ryan pulls away before Jeremy’s able to start rutting against him, probably for the best - sex wasn’t what was needed right now even though Jeremy was rock hard and thinking solely of the way Ryan tasted. They pull apart, lips red and gasping a bit, and then stare, again.

When Ryan licks his lips, Jeremy’s eyes track his tongue, forcing himself to try to stay calm. “Uh....,” Ryan says weakly.

“That was .... really, really good,” Jeremy breathes, looking at him for a bit of a smile. “I can die happy with that kiss. Jesus, man. Your tongue though.”

“I’ve got many talents,” Ryan snorts breathlessly. And then the tension breaks as they’re both laughing, starting quietly before chuckling before laughing uproariously as the tension seems to leak off of Ryan’s limbs. 

“I don’t know if I can do anything ... I dunno, serious,” Ryan says when they stop laughing. “But ... if you can wait...”

“I’ll wait,” Jeremy shrugs. “Hell, it’s not like I have a lot of options, nor want any other after that kiss. You take the time you need. And if you ever want to come back for more kisses - no strings attached - I’ll be ready for you. And whatever you want to give.”

“Maybe I am a slut,” Ryan chuckles, and Jeremy shrugs. “There are worse things to be.”

Ryan shrugs and smirks. “Hey. If I date the baker, does that mean I can eat anything that is on those shelves?” His eyes dance with mirth.

Jeremy fakes rolling his eyes. “I see! Just using me for my sweets.” He scoffs for a moment before surging forward to steal another breathless kiss, lingering on those soft lips. “Too bad I like your dad bod so much.”

He moves towards the apartment door to run down to the shop to grab him something. When he looks back, Ryan is still wrapped in his quilt, sitting on his couch, looking for all the world like he belonged there.

He may not have the relationship he wanted. It would be a rocky road before Ryan felt comfortable again with anything that required actual serious commitment, and Jeremy did respect that. Hell, he’d find it insane if Ryan didn’t want to take it really slow after what he just witnessed.

But he had his sweet kiss, more flavorful than his best cherry tart and even more red, and that memory would linger in his mind forever more. And the promise of even more sweet kisses and memories to be made, should he have the patience to wait for them.

No one would call Jeremy Dooley a patient man. But he could - and would - learn.

If only for the hungry, sweet-loving demon in the next room.

[raishiteru]

So y’all wanted more Rimmy Tim carrying Vagabond, huh. (◕‿◕✿)

✄ - - - - - - - - - - - - -

⭐ Commissions ⭐ ♡ Prices ♡ ToS ♡ Queue ♡ 🌻 Social Media 🌻 ♡ Twitter ♡ Instagram ♡ 💛 Support Me 💛 ♡ Ko-fi ♡

[fahc-nova-lesbian]

ryan setting off fireworks to encourage jeremy in the new gta (on yt) had me all soft 🥺 all the boys encouraging jeremy had me soft tbh it was cute 🥰🥺

Oh, anon. The fireworks made me so soft. That whole scene was amazing. The way that everyone was supporting and encouraging Jeremy to complete it was just * chef’s kiss * Don’t get me wrong I love the big bad explody FAHC as much as the soft FAHC. The FAHC owns my whole life.  

[vagrantblvrd]

A friend pointed out in this thumbnail that Adam super looks like something out of the AU where Gavin and Jeremy had a kid who did the time travel-thing to fix something that went Horribly Wrong???

Or their kid from an alternate universe they contact via wacky science shenanigans involving other dimensions and continue to video conference once the two of realize the pining they’ve been doing is mutual?

(Also alternate dimension them video conference from time to time to talk science and the whatnot? Also brainstorm gift ideas when they’re drawing a blank and suchlike.)

[illusion-of-sea-axes]

Pool Pals

[ghoulangerlee]

The fic I wrote for the @rtwritingcommunity‘s secret santa! 

title: いつでもそばにいるから (meaning: because im right here from this song) ship: ryan/jeremy, gen word count: 9,595 rating: general for: Corvus (i dont know your tumblr sdlkfsj)  tw: implied/referenced self-harm and anxiety disorders, pls read note before proceeding if this is a trigger for you!

summary: It’s not that he’s unhappy being here, even if it’s a new place, he’s not happy really, either, but he’s filled with relief to be somewhere no one really expects anything of him. (Even if his mind keeps telling him that he’s expected to run the farm the same way his grandparents had. He’s not, he stamps down the sick feeling that he’s putting his grandfather’s name to shame.) In fact, he didn’t even have to go to the party, he didn’t have to agree to Lindsay’s invitation, could have easily made an excuse about needing to get up early or needing to head over to the next town for something--it’s a strange feeling. To not have expectations put on him, even if his mind tells him it would have been rude to turn down the invitation, since the party is for him. AO3

[miss-ingno]

Eternal Eclipse, 8 out of 11

Fandom: ragehappyShip: Jerevinwood, past Freewood Words: 4.9k Tags: Sky Factory 3 Gods AU, (temporary) character death, blood sacrifice, magic rituals, amnesia, jealousy, relationship drama, religious imagery, cults

Summary: The Solar Queen is dead, long may the Dark God reign!

OR in which Gavin finds refuge with the dragon-riding knights.

Read here on Ao3 or Patreon. More chapters are available there already on early access, as well as two (2) outtakes. Updates will happen once a week every Thursday!

[Prologue] [Ch1] [Ch2] [Ch3] [Ch4] [Ch5] [Ch6] [Ch7] [Ch8] [Ch9] [Ch10] [Ch11]

A/N: Longest chapter as of yet! (And yeah, I ended up splitting chapter 10 in two :’D I figured I needed a certain scene and then it got too long so might as well)

No update next week to give me enough time to wrap up the last chapter without leaving you on a mean cliffie! Thank you to everyone who encouraged me via tags, PMs, comments, etc. <3

***

After foiling the Blood Mage’s coup attempt, the Dark God called forth the most elite of His Hunters. From all corners of the world did they gather to His side, eager to do His bidding. Only one was reluctant to join, for he had lost his Cloak of Shadows and his trusted Mount, both of them blessed gifts of His Darkness upon completion of a Hunter’s trials.

But as the Hunters gathered to his current station, the solitary Hunter had no choice but to join.

Eyes as cold as winter’s night settled on him as he entered the circle, followed by the stares of his fellow Hunters, for they could see he had lost both his Cloak and his Mount, and assumed he had fallen from favour.

“Matthew,” called the Dark God, and with hesitance clear in his every move, the Hunter stepped forth and took a knee.

“Sire.”

“You come before me without the Cloak I have gifted you. Where is it?”

“Sire, I gave it away to a man in need,” spoke the Hunter, his head bowed in deference.

“Indeed?” asked the Dark God with mild curiosity. “And why did you choose to do such a thing?”

“He was wanted by the dissenting followers of the Blood Mage, Sire,” explained the Hunter. “I thought it best to foil their plans.”

“You have done well in doing so. Your foresight shall be rewarded,” promised the Dark God, pleased. Then He asked, “And what of your sacred Mount?”

“Sire, I gave her away also,” disclosed the Hunter, and his elation at the praise turned to fear. “For you see, the wanted man was fleeing the Acolytes on foot, and they would have caught him before long.”

“You have done well in doing so, and shall thus be rewarded,” vowed the Dark God, pleased.

Then He turned to the other Hunters, who were watching the exalted Hunter with jealousy and envy.

“Fear not! You also shall have a chance to prove your loyalty!” exclaimed the Dark God, and the Hunters turned to him most eager.

“Find the wanted man, before the Blood Mage and his ilk does,” ordered the Dark God, His voice as dark as His name. “Find him and bring him to me - alive!”

***

They found Jeremy sitting on the edge of their world, on the other side of the fence staring down at their creation. His feet were dangling, chin propped up on his hands as he watched the humans below listlessly. Jack and Geoff exchanged a concerned look before settling down on either side of him.

"That could've gone better, huh?" Jack stated, nudging Jeremy in the side in his friendly manner.

Jeremy huffed, a bitter sounding laugh getting stuck in his throat.

"Yeah, you can say that again."

“What happened?” Geoff asked, jiggling his leg. “One minute, everything seemed to go fine, the next Ryan was throwing a huge fit. How’d he even find out about it?”

“I-” Jeremy cleared his throat, shoulders hunching up to his ears. “I told him.”

For one tense second silence descended between them. Then Geoff and Jack exploded at the same time.

“You told him!?”

“What the hell, Jeremy!”

“We kept him in the dark for a century, and you just fucking go and tell him!?”

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Jeremy burst out, arms wrapping around himself. He rocked on the edge, dangerously close to tipping over. “He just- He looked- He was just so sad, okay? He just wanted to help!”

“So you told him we’ve been keeping Gavin’s survival a secret from him for nearly a century?” Jack exclaimed, disbelief colouring his voice. But Jeremy was already shaking his head.

“No! Not like that. I just-” He deflated, curling in on himself. “He heard of the ritual from his followers. I… I couldn’t lie to him, okay?”

Geoff snorted. “So what, Ryan bats his pretty eyes at you and you ruin years of hard work to, what?”

“I only told him there was a big thing coming up!” Jeremy shouted, pushing off the edge and turning to face them, using his divine power to float. “He wanted to help, so I told him to tell his followers to stop interfering!”

“And…?” Jack inquired softly, a knowing look on his face. Jeremy stared back at him, appearing lost.

“And he offered me some of his blood.” Jeremy bit his lip, gaze dropping to avoid theirs. “I couldn’t say no to that, it raised the chances of Gavin making it through this in one piece, alright? I couldn’t.”

Jack glanced at Geoff, taking in the other’s clenched fists and tight expressions. They’d stood up when Jeremy jumped, ready to follow if necessary. But Geoff was barely holding onto his temper. It was up to Jack to defuse the situation. He sighed, turning back to Jeremy.

"You know how it goes. With great power-"

"Don't," Jeremy huffed, half between laughter and pain. "Don't you dare say it, Jack. Please."

Jack closed his mouth but gave Jeremy a significant look. Jeremy sighed, looking off to the side, but hovering closer.

“What happened?” he coaxed gently. “Ryan interrupted the ritual, right? That much we’ve guessed.”

“Gavin… Gavin figured some things out,” Jeremy admitted, eyes darting up to Geoff and then away just as quick. “He… he didn’t like the picture it painted.”

“And then he ran,” Geoff concluded, eyes narrowed. “Do you even have any idea where he is right now?”

Jeremy shook his head.

“It would have worked, too. I know it would,” Jeremy whispered, letting his head hang. Then, in an even quieter voice, he added, “I don’t know if it can be salvaged.”

"Well, you botched it, I can tell you that much," Geoff sniped, eyes narrowed. Jeremy flinched. “What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know.”

Geoff huffed, rolling his shoulders. “Well, you know what we do around here when we make a mistake?”

“Build intricate blood rituals over centuries behind our friend’s back?” Jack joked, and Geoff choked on a laugh. Jeremy glanced up, a self-deprecating smile on his face.

“Shut up!” Geoff coughed, thumping his chest with a fist and clearing his throat. Then he cleared it again, just to be sure they all noticed, the overdramatic bastard. “We own up and apologize, shithead.”

“You break, you fix,” Jack agreed, nodding his head wisely. Geoff gave him the stink-eye, but it made Jeremy laugh.

“I- I don’t know how,” Jeremy admitted, smile slowly fading as he landed between them.

“I hate to agree with Geoffrey,” Jack drawled, earning himself a sharp elbow in his gut and an offended Hey! “But an apology seems like a good first step.”

“I doubt he will listen to me long enough to get that far,” Jeremy pointed out, hopping over the fence. Jack and Geoff exchanged a look, then followed him.

“Which ‘him’ are we talking about?” Geoff inquired mildly, staring at Jeremy’s back with narrowed eyes. Jeremy startled and stopped, turning to face them.

“Ryan?” he answered, voice lilting up in confusion.

Geoff hummed and crossed his arms. Jeremy rubbed the back of his head, a corner of his mouth quirking up. Geoff raised a pointed eyebrow.

“...I guess I should apologize to Gavin too, huh?” Jeremy hazarded, and Geoff nodded once, sharply.

“You better,” he threatened, dropping his arms and sauntering up next to him. “Because if you don’t… I doubt you can convince him to give this another shot.”

“I don’t know where he is,” Jeremy pointed out, as if that could get him out of it. Jack crossed his arms and they both levelled Jeremy with judging stares until his shoulders slumped and he let out a long exhale. “Alright, yeah, you’re right. I’ll talk to him.”

“And explain to him what’s going on?” Jack added, raising a brow. Jeremy nodded sharply.

“Right. If he’ll listen to me…” He trailed off, looking off into the distance and wrapping his arms around himself as a frown marred his face. “He… he sounded like he put some of the pieces together, but all wrong and only the worst parts…”

Jack winced. “Yeah, maybe it’s a good thing if he has some time to cool off.” Gavin’s temper was legendary for burning bright whenever it flared up, but it rarely lasted for long.

Jeremy bit his lip. “It’s just… I’m worried. He could be anywhere, and there’s so many people down there that would kill first, ask questions never. What if… what if he lands in the wrong hands, Jack?”

Seeing the true concern in Jeremy’s eyes, Jack sighed, slinging an arm around his shoulders and squeezing him into his side.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Jer,” he offered, a slight smile on his lips. “Gavin’s resourceful, remember? I’m sure he can talk himself out of any trouble he walks into.”

Jeremy couldn’t help but snort at that. “He’s a real trouble-magnet.”

Geoff hummed, a broken-off tune that sounded half-agreement, half like he was hiding something. Jeremy and Jack both turned their eyes to the third, suspicion growing in their expressions. They all knew Geoff’s tells well.

“Geoff?” Jack inquired, mild as milk.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Geoff sputtered, immediately on the defense. He flailed his arms through the air. “I don’t know anything, dickheads, why would you even suspect me? I don’t know where Gavin is, I’m not lying! I never lie!”

Amused, Jack arched both of his brows. “We didn’t accuse you of anything, Geoffrey.”

“Funny how you should jump to those… specific conclusions,” Jeremy added in a drawl.

Geoff paused mid-swing, face paling and expression caught. He opened and closed his mouth, sputtering, “Because I know nothing! Obviously!”

“Uh huh.” Jack eyed him in clear disbelief. “So what do you know that we don’t, Geoffrey?”

Huffing, Geoff crossed his arms. “Many things, duh.”

“Geoff.” Jeremy lifted a hand, laying it on Geoff’s arm. His eyes were wide and watery, his smile wobbly. Jack knew very well it was a play, yet he couldn’t help but be impressed. “I… I understand you can’t tell me. I fucked up. But-” Jeremy dropped his gaze, biting his lip. There was a sincerity to it that wasn’t faked, and it tugged at Jack’s heartstrings. “Please. Can you just tell me if he’s safe?”

The best lie is the truth, told from a certain perspective. They all knew that. Jeremy taught them long ago, while fine-tuning his craft.

Geoff wavered, aware of the trap, but just as aware of the honesty wrapped around the words. Then he huffed, pulling away from Jeremy’s touch, but also dropping his defensive stance.

“Alright, fine. Assholes.” He raked his fingers through his hair, while eyeing them through drooping eyelids. “Michael’s with him. He’ll look out for him.”

“Michael is?” Jeremy startled, eyes widening for real.

“Yeah, okay.” Jack felt himself relax. He turned his serious gaze to Jeremy. “You know he won’t let anything happen to Gavin.”

“Yeah…” Jeremy’s expression turned thoughtful, tightening with an emotion that could be guilt as much as grief. Jack hadn’t seen such a look on Jeremy’s face in decades. He swallowed the joke that laid on the tip of the tongue, always ready to lighten the mood, but it didn’t seem appropriate for the somber atmosphere descending on them.

“Yeah. So you can call off your search, dickhead.” Geoff gave Jeremy a look of pure judgement. “Since you know he’s safe.”

“I guess…” Jeremy bit his lip. “But what of Ryan’s Hunters?”

Geoff shrugged. “So I tell him to stop being a dick, too. He probably could use some ass-kicking with all the brooding he’s been busy with.”

“Just like I did, huh?” Jeremy asked, amusement finally colouring his voice. His tone turned sarcastic, “Thanks, Geoff.”

“Just ‘cause I agreed to the plan doesn’t mean I like how you went about it,” Geoff pointed out rather sharply. “But I stayed out of it because I promised. So you better fix this shit, asshole.”

"I will. I promise." Jeremy sighed, quirking a sad smile. "I want him back, too. I know you all miss him, and that I got to see him a lot over the last decades but…" Jeremy grimaced, grief flickering through his eyes. "It wasn't easy. I mean, he's still Gavin, but not…"

"Not our Gavin?" Jack offered quietly.

"Yeah." Jeremy swallowed before meeting Geoff's hard gaze with a firm look of his own. "I will do all I can to bring him back, Geoff. I swore that then, and I'll swear it now."

"You better," Geoff muttered, visibly deflating. He broke their staring contest first. "How fucked are we?"

"Obviously the ritual wasn't finished, but…" Jeremy gave him a one-shouldered shrug. "I think it would've worked. Some of the energy was transferred into Gavin's blood. He's still mortal, mind, just… more."

Jack stroked his beard, deep in thought. "Do you think it would work if you try again?"

Jeremy made a sea-sawing motion with his hand.

"The power I've gathered over the last century has mostly been expended, and the circumstances are different now. I might be able to throw something else together, but it's a moot point." Jeremy grimaced. "Gavin needs to participate of his own volition. I doubt he trusts me enough, after what happened."

"You did stab him," Jack pointed out, teasing.

"It wouldn't have killed him!" Jeremy objected. Jack arched his brows, silently judging him. Jeremy grumbled, grudgingly amending, "Only a little. For a bit."

"Temporary murder is still murder," Jack insisted with a shit-eating grin.

“Fuck off,” Jeremy laughed, ramming his elbow into Jack’s soft side. But his mind was already whirring ahead, plotting what his next steps had to be.

***

Dragon riding was Gavin’s favourite new thing.

They rose high above the fields, until they turned into blurs of colour, hard to make out any details from the distance. Gavin leaned over the side to watch the world fall away, one hand clutching the saddle. Michael gave him a sharp look, but the smirk curving around his mouth spoke of fond amusement. Then with two mighty beats of the wings, the dragons broke through the clouds and Gavin squeaked in shock. Michael laughed, shaking his head, droplets of condensation flying from his hair and splattering Gavin behind him, who sputtered.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Lindsay exclaimed joyfully, her dragon pulling up next to theirs.

"It is, innit?" Gavin agreed, twisting sideways and leaning forward to look down. The clouds were lit in the soft red of the redstone lanterns hanging on the dragons' harnesses, turning them into soft, pink fluff. It was a beautiful sight.

Then he looked up and his breath caught.

The sky above was dark as usual, but it wasn’t the inky black he’d always thought. Instead stripes of purple mixed with swirls of darkest blue, weaving together with the black to build the night sky. And there, his eyes unerringly drawn to it, glittered the single star, brighter than it ever seemed before. But what shocked him wasn’t the sight itself, or the unexpected beauty of it. No.

Six more stars surrounded the first, the brightest of them all. Some were closer, others further away, blinking in and out of existence as Gavin stared, agape.

Michael seemed to notice his preoccupation, following his gaze. He paused, before nodding with a grim expression.

“It worked,” he said, exchanging a significant look with Lindsay, who shook her head.

“Not like it was supposed to.”

“What was?” Gavin inquired, irritation stirring in his chest at being excluded.

Lindsay met his glare with an uncharacteristically serious look on her face, lips pressed in a thin line. “Not here.”

Michael nodded, and Gavin opened his mouth to protest-

“Hold on!” Michael called out, and Gavin had just enough time to wrap an arm around his waist before they dove.

Gavin squawked his objections, the words lost to the wind. Air and droplets of water rushed past them, his robes flapping noisily as Gavin closed his eyes and buried his head between Michael’s shoulders. The pink armor made a lot more sense suddenly. The clouds parted where they darted through them, wings held stiff up against the sides of the dragon before flaring out to slow their descent.

Hesitantly, Gavin peeled off Michael and peeked over his shoulder.

They were gliding several hundred feet above the ground, curving around the crown of a giant redwood tree. Tiny red lights dotted the leaves, and as they came around to the southside, a wooden platform was revealed, built between two giant branches. Big enough, Gavin thought, for five dragons to land side by side. That realization was quickly followed by another, and Gavin took a closer look at the red lights which were moving about not because the leaves blew in front of them to hide them from view, but because they were lanterns attached to dragons, who crawled over and along the branches.

Lindsay let out a whoop and dashed past them, dragon more or less crashing into the platform rather than landing. Michael just sighed and tugged on the reins, leading Mogar a bit off to the side to come to a much calmer set-down a ways away from her.

“...Whot,” Gavin half-asked, half-stated as he stared at the dragon who shrugged their crash landing off like a dog shook itself after a swim, nearly tossing Lindsay off with the motion.

“And that,” Michael drawled, peeling off Gavin’s firm grip around his waist, “is why you wanted to ride with Air Mogar rather than Lindsay.”

“Oh, shut it,” Lindsay laughed, hopping off her dragon and brushing her wind-blown hair behind her ears. “As if you weren’t tempted to fly some loop-de-loops.”

Gavin undid the belts strapping him in and carefully slipped down behind Mogar’s wings, shooting Lindsay a contemplative look. The harness had secured him well enough, and if the leather of the saddle held... 

“Maybe another time?” he offered, unable to keep the hopeful note out of his voice. Michael snorted and shook his head, seeming amused.

“Sure, why not.”

Fluttering, pink lights whirred around their heads, which turned out to be small, glowing insects as he followed Michael and Lindsay into the tree. That was when Gavin noticed the people lurking in the shadows of the bough watching them. Their silent watchers wore armor similar to Michael’s in a rainbow of colours, but none of them carried a blue sword. They didn’t speak but bowed their heads and made way as they passed, ignoring Gavin’s curious eyes.

Then they were walking between the thick outer branches of the tree, smaller ones twisting up to create sort-of walls. The pink, glowing insects joined their procession, dancing ahead and lighting their way. They seemed to delight in Michael’s pink crystal armour in particular, congregating on him before swarming out. The buzzing caused by their wings almost sounded like light, tinkling laughter, which distracted Gavin so much he didn’t notice they arrived in a wide open space in the middle of the tree.

“Welcome to the city of Treetania.” Michael turned around and spread his arms, grinning with pride.

And he was right to be proud. The city hidden in the tree was beautiful, between the red light of lanterns and the pink, giggly glowflies the plaza was gleaming. Doors were woven between the boughs from braided twigs, leading into what Gavin could only guess were rooms or even entire houses. A round fountain bubbled away in the center, the glowflies dancing in circles around it as it erupted like a geyser. Children came running, screeching and laughing, delighting in the rain created by the spout.

Everywhere he looked there were colourful tapestries and people draped in even more colourful cloth of varying patterns. Masks hung from belts or were staked in front of doors, ranging from the beautifully intricate to the eerily simple in design. Voices filled the air, chattering and laughing, lively.

It was nothing like the solemn atmosphere of the temple, and Gavin felt a pang at the thought, but pushed it aside.

Michael led them up a twisting bough like a spiral staircase, to what seemed like the very top of the tree to Gavin. A roof of leaves rustled above them, branches thinning out into twigs and sprigs to create a moving wall around them. Colourful lampions were strung across the canopy, some of them lit by candle and others emitting the red glow of redstone, tinting the whole room in warm colours. In the middle of the space stood a low table surrounded by several cushions, and this was where Michael led them, plopping down on one of them with Lindsay dropping in the seat on his left.

Gavin bit his lip, considering, before settling across from them.

“Is it later now?” he asked, not quite able to keep the bitterness out of his tone. “Are you finally going to explain what the shit’s been going on?”

“Sure, yeah, why not.” Lindsay blew her bangs out of her eyes. “What do you wanna start with?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The question burst out without much input from Gavin, spooking around in his head ever since Lindsay showed up with dragons. Then he gestured to Michael, making a frustrated noise. “And who are you? How are you involved in all this? Where are we?”

“The city of Treetania,” Michael drawled, crossing his arms and raising a brow. “Which is the center of the Knights of Fae, the dragon-riding forces of the Knight.”

“And you’re the leader of the knights, is that it?”

Michael shrugged, a magnanimous expression on his face. “Guess you could call it that.”

“Michael,” Lindsay chided, even though she was fighting down a grin herself. Gavin narrowed his eyes, not in the mood for her mischief, and she sighed, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Jeremy wanted a chance to explain the whole thing to you. Which I guess he mucked up?”

“Big time,” Michael muttered under his breath, brow furrowing.

“So why don’t we start with what you figured out, and we fill in the blanks?” Lindsay suggested.

Gavin pursed his lips, meeting Lindsay’s gaze with a hard stare of his own. He was growing impatient with being told to wait, wait, wait. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

“Jeremy tried to kill me to revive the sun,” he summed up in a clipped tone. He watched Lindsay intently, to see how she would react to the next bit. “Oh, and he’s actually the Blood Mage, or something.”

She didn’t so much as twitch. Gavin ground his teeth, glowering at her.

“But you already knew that.”

“Oh boy,” Lindsay huffed, tugging on the end of her braid. Then she shrugged, offering him a self-deprecating smile. “Yeah, I knew. Don’t feel bad he didn’t tell you, he was trying to keep it very hush hush.”

“Somehow,” Michael interjected in a dry tone, “I don’t think he’s angry about that rather than the fucking stabbing, Linds.”

Gavin moved his glare to the pink knight for a short moment, before refocusing on Lindsay.

“Oh. Right! That.” She waved her hand back and forth, tilting her head this way and that way. “You wouldn’t have actually died, I don’t think. More like… you know how you have to dip a sword in molten lava to reforge it? Well, obviously the metal melts, and I guess that would hurt a lot if the sword was sentient…”

Lindsay trailed off, scratching her head as she seemed to realize her metaphor wasn’t going anywhere useful.

“You knew,” Gavin pressed out through gritted teeth, nails digging into his palms. “You knew he was going to- to sacrifice me for that ritual.”

Lindsay blinked at him. “Well, yes. He never told any of us how the ritual worked, but that was the gist of it.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me!?” Gavin thumped his knee with his fist, frustration needing an outlet. “I thought we were friends!”

“We are!” Lindsay cried out, leaning forward and reaching for him across the table. Gavin flinched back, making her hesitate. “We are,” she repeated, more softly.

“You wouldn’t have died, is what she’s trying to say,” Michael interjected, rolling his eyes. Gavin turned hard eyes on him, stomach squirming uncomfortably with too many emotions.

“Then what was supposed to happen?” he snapped out the question, fixing Michael with a hard glare. Michael simply shrugged his animosity off, unbothered by his hostile tone.

“It would have returned you to us,” he answered simply.

“Us.” The word tripped over Gavin’s lips before he could stop it, eyes flitting between Michael and Lindsay. Realization dawned with a sense of foreboding. “What, are you gods too, then? Is everyone I know secretly divine and in the know?”

Michael shrugged while Lindsay nodded, and anger bubbled up in Gavin’s chest, hot and heavy.

“So, what is this? Play with the poor human, see how he reacts, it’s so much fun? Pretend to be his friends, take away his memories, make him fall in l-” Gavin bit his cheek from how hard his jaw snapped shut on the word before it could escape, hastily tacking on, “See how he deals with it, and then for funsies just throw him on the altar like a trussed up turkey, might as well find a use for him!?”

“No!” Lindsay burst out, sounding distressed. Gavin turned his gimlet stare on her. “No, that’s not it at all! We’re your friends, Gavin, we are!”

“We just want you back,” Michael added, and he’d lost his bland and amused demeanour, expression turning serious under Gavin’s accusations. “You don’t remember us, but… we were your friends before you lost your memory.”

Gavin opened his mouths, but no words came out. He choked, closing it again, teeth clacking with the force of it. He’d wondered, of course, of what his previous life had been like, before he came to the temple. It never mattered before, because he had Jeremy. But now…

No.

Gavin shook his head. That didn’t make sense. Because it implied that Jeremy was his friend before, too, and then why would he try to kill him? And besides, what mortal was friends with gods? Why didn’t they just return his memories to him with their divine powers? Or were they lying about that, too? No, none of this made any sense.

“Jeremy said…” He swallowed past the knot that built in his throat at the mere memory of what happened. “Jeremy said he was… he was trying to bring the sun back. To return balance to the world.”

Michael and Lindsay both nodded, something cautious to their movements now. Gavin glanced between them, before dropping his gaze to the table, tracing the knots and lines in the wood. He could figure this out. He just had to ask the right questions. Licking his lips, he met their hopeful eyes.

“What… what does that have to do with me? Why me?”

Michael and Lindsay’s stares turned blank. They exchanged a quick, speaking look, eyebrows twitching up and mouths turning down, brows furrowing. Then they smoothed out and they turned back to look at Gavin with identical expressions of mild, but hopeful bewilderment.

“Because… that’s the same thing?” Lindsay ventured, tone carefully modulated. Gavin frowned.

“What?”

“We just told you, moron, we want you back,” Michael grumbled, crossing his arms.

“What’s that got to do with the bloody sun?” Gavin asked, getting frustrated with their crypticness. The only thing stopping him from stomping out was that Michael and Lindsay looked just as confused as he felt.

“Because… that’s you?” They shared another look. Lindsay reached across the table, taking his trembling fists and unclenching them slowly to take in her own hands. “Gavin. You’re the Solar Queen.”

His jaw dropped. “N-no? I can’t- What?”

Michael leaned in, tapping his blunt nail against the sun tattoos glittering like golden ink on his wrists.

“This is yours. Your magic,” he explained, but he might as well be speaking gibberish for all Gavin understood. Michael frowned. “The ritual was supposed to return you to, well, you. But something must’ve gone wrong.”

“I…” Gavin shook his head. “A man showed up. Ryan?”

“Ah.” Lindsay’s expression cleared. “Well, fuck.”

“And he stopped the ritual? Fucker,” Michael muttered, frown darkening.

“I don’t understand.” Gavin bit his lips. “He killed the Solar Queen, didn’t he? Of course he’d want to stop the ritual reviving her.”

“No, Gavin, no.” Lindsay squeezed his hands emphatically. “No, Gav. He loves you. He didn’t want you to die. You gotta believe that.”

“No.”

“Gavin-” Michael tried to interject, but Gavin shook his head, pulling his hands free from Lindsay’s grasp.

“Stop,” he wheezed, scrambling to his feet.

“Gav-”

“Stop!” His shout sent the leaves rustling, startled birds taking flight. He inhaled sharply. “Stop,” he repeated, quieter. “Stop saying ‘you’ when you mean her. I’m not- I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

The statement was firm, brooking no protest. Gavin just backed up, shaking his head, until his back hit a tree. Then he slid down the trunk and buried his head in his arms, knees drawn close to his chest.

It was too much.

***

“We have tracked him down, Your Excellence.”

“Good. Where is he?”

“He’s taken refuge with the Knights of Fae, Your Excellence.”

Head Priest Gustavo pressed his lips together, frowning. “That’s not ideal. Do you know where they have taken him?”

“We’re assuming their capital, up in that giant tree,” the Acolyte hedged, hesitating before adding, “There’s another problem as well, Your Excellence.”

“Great,” Head Priest Gustavo muttered. “Well? What is it?”

“The Hunters, Your Excellence.” The Acolyte swallowed. “They’ve found him, too.”

***

When your heart is like a shadow Of someone you used to know Maybe try and let it go Things that we say Games we play They can tear us all apart I give my heart - Everybody Makes Mistakes by Monrose

[redvsvblue]

:thinky: how about some sort of anniversary in demon au? - smitbrit

It’s an ordinary Saturday when Ryan materialises in Jeremy’s house. In fact, Jeremy doesn’t even realise until he leaves the kitchen, almost running smack into the demon standing - nervously? - in his living room, his hands behind his back.

“Ryan,” Jeremy says, unable to help his grin. Ryan lights up at the greeting.

“Are you busy?” He asks, glancing around the living room. Jeremy shrugs, heading over to sit on the sofa. Ryan carefully rotates to keep his back hidden from Jeremy’s view.

“Nope,” Jeremy replies, setting his drink down. “Got the weekend off, why?”

“Just wondering,” Ryan says, unconvincingly. Jeremy laughs.

“What are you hiding?” He teases. Ryan goes adorably red in the ears.

“Nothing.”

“Ryan, you’re standing like a butler.”

“Well, I - ” Ryan pauses, licks his lips. “I got you something.”

“Oh yeah?” Jeremy grins.

“Yeah,” Ryan says, and brings his hand around.

Cupped in his palm is the tiniest, cutest ball of fluff Jeremy’s ever seen. The kitten pauses at its new surroundings, and Jeremy gasps softly when it starts to move again, trying to climb up Ryan’s arm - Ryan carefully trades it off between his forearms, never letting it adventure higher than his elbow.

“Oh my god, Ryan,” Jeremy squeaks, reaching forward for the kitten. He lets it sniff his hand, and Ryan gently hands it over once granted a tiny mewl of approval. Jeremy thinks he might cry at how clumsily the kitten stands on his hands, its tail short and stiff as it carefully figures out balance. The kitten immediately goes exploring up his arm, but Jeremy lowers it to play with his jeans instead - much safer for both of them.

“Well, you said you like - but uh if you don’t, uh - I can take it back - ” Ryan starts, but Jeremy shakes his head.

“No, no, I love it,” he says, looking back up at Ryan.

“I have supplies in your spare room,” Ryan says sheepishly.

“How the fuck did you sneak that past me?”

“Invisibility goes a long way.”

Jeremy fondly rolls his eyes - Ryan laughs, and Jeremy eagerly beckons him closer, his other hand occupied with gently stroking the kitten from head to tail while it explores.

“So what’s its name?” Jeremy asks, scooping it up in his hands to get a good look at it.

“I was going to let you name him,” Ryan replies, stroking the kitten’s tiny, tiny head.

“Oh god,” Jeremy mutters. “Oh fuck, what do I name him.”

Ryan shrugs, a little teasing smile playing on his lips, and Jeremy loves him.

“Where’d you even get a kitten, anyway?” He asks, leaning back against the sofa. The kitten plucks at his shirt, mewling softly.

“Local shelter,” Ryan says, turning to sit down on the sofa beside Jeremy. “He was found on the streets a few weeks ago.”

Silence rests between them for a long moment, both of them entertained by the adorable, squeaking kitten clambering all over them. He’s ginger, with a white underbelly, and a scar in his ear, and Jeremy is immediately in love with him.

“Why?” He asks, softly, a minute later. Ryan glances up at him.

“It’s been - two years,” Ryan says eventually. “Since we met.”

“Wow, really? I didn’t even realise.”

“Well, demon memory,” Ryan grins, tapping his forehead. “Don’t forget a thing.”

“Ol’ reliable, they call you,” Jeremy jokes in a bad cowboy accent, and Ryan snorts, still scritching the kitten slowly tiring himself out on Jeremy’s jeans.

“They sure do,” Ryan replies in an equally bad accent, and he’s still giggling when Jeremy leans in to kiss him. And again. And again.

“Thank you,” Jeremy says when he pulls away. The kitten is practically zonked on his lap now, not even curled up, just perched on his thigh, sleepily blinking. Jeremy steadies him so he doesn’t fall, and when he eventually gives up the struggle to stay awake, Jeremy can’t help the tiny aww that leaves his mouth.

“Popcorn,” Jeremy says decisively. Ryan blinks at him.

“Popcorn?”

“Popcorn. I’m going to name him Popcorn,” Jeremy repeats. “He’s warm and kind of the same colour.”

“No popcorn is orange, Jeremy.”

“Cheddar popcorn.”

“Most popcorn isn’t orange, Jeremy.”

“Hey, you said I could name him.”

“I wouldn’t’ve if I knew you were going to name him Popcorn.”

“Uh-uh, too late now,” Jeremy teases, laughing quietly as Ryan settles an arm over his shoulders, pulling him in flush to his side.

(Later, Jeremy finds the secret stash of cat things in his spare room, de-invisibled, and looped around the cat tree he finds a dark blue collar with Popcorn engraved on the metal tag. Sneaky magic bastard.)

[bara-kick]

Don’t scare your buddy when their fight or flight respond is 110% fight.

[x]

[merethessc]

based off of this post from @ask-the-battlebuddies​!

[writerofshit]

May The Best Man Win

Pairing: Jeremwood

Summary:

If someone has a hitman after them, but hires a bodyguard, their life depends on who's better at their job.

Or: Jeremy sincerely hopes he's a better hitman than The Vagabond is bodyguard.

Chapter: 1/?

Jeremy has decided he no longer wants to make deals in bars. He’s almost never sure who exactly his client is going to be, he’s far too tempted to get absolutely plastered after the deal is done (when in Rome, you know?) and he always feels awkward looking at photos of someone who’s going to end up dead. At least in public he does. It’s never come back to bite him in the ass, but still. He worries.

Tonight he’s lucky, to some degree, because clearly the sketchy guy in the trenchcoat, glancing around like he’s worried he’s going to get taken out, is the client. Jeremy guesses he wants some politician dead, or maybe somebody from an opposing company. He reads corporate for sure. Those hits tend to leave a bad taste in his mouth. Can’t they just have a corporate dick measuring contest and call it a day? Why do they need to bring murder into it?

But whatever. If he gets paid he gets paid.

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