#probably why modern au is always a safe option

[enobariasdistrict2]

haven't seen anything about enobaria and annie so if anyone wants to contribute a cute little headcanons list that would be appreciated. however i love making those so i'll get the ball rolling:

okay so i know enobaria is canonically not the friendliest person from what katniss says (regardless of whether katniss is a biased narrator that doesn't like d2 peeps because of her traumatic experiences with careers, this is consistent and holds up with the things eno says and does) and it's far fetched to believe that she spends a lot of time hanging out with people... she's a human being and i would imagine sometimes she can hold a conversation with people she likes/can stand. one of those people is, in fact, annie!

they're the only two career girls left especially after the academies disband since they have no obvious reason to exist. annie and enobaria understand what it's like to grow up wanting to kill people and deal with the unpleasant reality of After, when the propaganda/whatever other motivations they had doesn't hold up.

depending on whether or not this fits enobaria's character, i would believe they do at least an annual call if not monthly just to catch up/converse. its simple life updates about - yeah, annie's son, but a lot of times about them as individuals.

enobaria teaches self defense courses after the war and has to fight the impulse to call her students "tributes." this is something that annie will enjoy (strong word but could hold up) hearing about. annie raises her son and eno will occasionally ask about him - at first she was being polite but gradually she gets semi-invested in the kid's life.

once eno was in d4 just to - chill? not to particularly see annie because it isn't that kind of friendship but it's actually a nice perk and eno gets to experience beach sand for the first time

their friendship is limited because eno doesn't strike me as a very emotional person but she cares about annie in her own little way!! she went so far as to get annie a comb for her messy long hair and buy the son (unnamed but one name i've seen in fandom, specifically from tumblr user anniecrest4, is irvin) one of those small baby gift things. (idk what a "baby gift" is and eno didn't either. maybe a district two theme onesie.)

since it seems far fetched to assume enobaria would put a great amount of effort into any friendship ever or that annie and eno would be much closer - these headcanons work a lot better with a modern au context - i'll leave it there unless anyone wants to add.

[librathefangirl]

Help Me Brother, for I Am Falling

ao3 (1k+; One-Shot)

(Modern All-Human AU) He shouldn’t do this. Worst Big Brother Award right here. The last thing he wanted to do was risk dragging his baby brother back into this mess. He just didn’t have anywhere else to go – and by some miracle, Zeldris opened the door. “Yo, Zel. Been a while,” Meliodas mumbled, trying to smile as he leaned heavily against the wall. His vision blurred slightly around the edges. Oh, that probably wasn’t good. Zeldris’ eyes narrowed, “What the hell are you- You’re bleeding.” Febuwhump 2023 Day 10 (Alt. 3): Soft Words.

Warnings: Past/Referenced Child Abuse, Blood and Injury.

Also written for the prompt: "Next time, call someone else for help." "Love you too, X!" (by @whump-galaxy)

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

When it came down to it, Meliodas didn’t want to come here. He just didn’t know where else to go.

He couldn’t involve the others. Not with this. This was too close to home and all the things he wanted to keep hidden – he needed to keep them safe from. He couldn’t risk. Even if Merlin still was an option. She did know about his dad and, well, everything. That didn’t mean he wanted her involved though. Besides, as far as he knew she had locked herself in her basement with yet another experiment. He’d probably bleed out before he managed to get her to the door. He wasn’t too keen on chancing it with the hospital either. That was way too much vulnerability for what little trust he was willing to grant Galand.

Which left…Zeldris.

He shouldn’t do this. Worst Big Brother Award right here. The last thing he wanted to do was risk dragging his baby brother back into this mess. He just didn’t have anywhere else to go – and by some miracle, Zeldris opened the door.

“Yo, Zel. Been a while,” Meliodas mumbled, trying to smile as he leaned heavily against the wall. His vision blurred slightly around the edges. Oh, that probably wasn’t good.

Zeldris’ eyes narrowed, “What the hell are you- You’re bleeding.”

“Mm-yeah. Ruined my shoes.”

Zeldris stared at him like he was crazy. His gaze flickered from Meliodas’ face to his bleeding side to his splotched shoes and back up to his face again.

“Why are you here, Meliodas?”

Meliodas tried not to flinch at strictness of his tone and the insistent use of his name and nothing else that Zeldris still clung to years after he had first stopped calling him brother. It was fair. Meliodas didn’t have any right to expect him to treat him as family after all that happened. He wasn’t about to deny his brother his anger. He just hoped he had a little bit of mercy left for him.

“I-… I need your help.”

Zeldris crossed his arms over his chest. His jaw was almost painfully clenched – even to Meliodas’ muddled mind. He glanced down at Meliodas’ side again. How much blood had he lost now? Meliodas wasn’t sure. Thinking was a lot harder than it was supposed to be. His hand was slick with it, that he knew at least. He kept having to reposition it against the wound.

“Why me?” Zeldris eventually asked. Meliodas couldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, his gaze fell to Zeldris’ bare feet. He was digging his toes into the carpet. Oh, he was anxious. As a kid, Zeldris would always step back and forth, his feet always fiddling, when he didn’t like the situation. To Meliodas, it had been a sign to reach out and steady him. Now, he didn’t know how to do that.

“I didn’t know where to go,” Meliodas admitted.

“And you thought this was the place?”

Zeldris was right. Here Meliodas was, ruining his baby brother’s life again. Except this time, it was a life he had made for himself. All on his own. Piece by little piece. Meliodas shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here.

“’m sorry,” Meliodas mumbled. When he pushed away from the wall, the entire room spun around him. The floor threatened to jump and slap him. Still Meliodas managed to take a few staggering steps towards the elevator. He didn’t get far though.

“Stop.” Zeldris grabbed hold of his arm. His skin felt warm against Meliodas’ – or was it Meliodas’ that was cold? When Meliodas turned to look at him, Zeldris’ blurry face wasn’t meeting his. He was looking somewhere over his shoulder. “You’re bleeding all over the hallway.”

Oh… He wasn’t wrong.

“You won’t make it to the hospital like this.”

Meliodas shrugged, almost toppling over with the action, “wasn’t goin’ to a ‘ospital.”

“Oh, good. You were just planning on dying in my elevator like an idiot then.”

Meliodas wanted to say something to that. He really did. But it took all his energy to not fall over as Zeldris guided him into his apartment. Black dots danced across his vision.

“Sorry,” he murmured one last time before the darkness took over. The last thing he heard was Zeldris letting out a loud curse.

-X-

Meliodas wasn’t sure how long he had been out for. When he woke up, he was surrounded by warmth. It was such a strange thought; family and warmth didn’t go together. Not in his family. Maybe once, he and Zeldris had shared it – but it had been years since that.

“Come on, Meliodas,” Zeldris’ voice said to his side. It was a quiet whisper, a lot softer than what Meliodas’ was used to from his grumpy baby brother. “Open your eyes, please.”

Meliodas wanted to. Especially at the waver in Zeldris’ voice. He just couldn’t get his body to move. God, everything hurt.

“I-…” Zeldris broke off. Meliodas could feel something brush briefly against his hand. Zeldris drew a shaky breath. “I can’t watch my big brother die.”

Oh…

“Ze-ngh.” Okay, not as eloquent as he aimed for.

Slowly, Meliodas managed to blink his eyes open. Zeldris stared at him like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. His hand was resting right beside Meliodas’ on the bed. Bed? Oh. He was lying in Zeldris’ bed, a soft blanket covering him and his brother sitting on a chair next to him.

“You’re awake.”

Meliodas cleared his throat, trying for a smile, “Don’t sound too disappointed.”

Zeldris bristled at that. As he diverted his gaze, Meliodas took the time to take the situation in. There was a big first aid kit and some supplies covering the bedside table. The blood was gone from Meliodas’ hand. His side was also very clearly not bleeding anymore. When Meliodas touched it, his fingers met smooth bandages.

“Don’t touch that,” Zeldris sighed. “You’re going to rip your stitches.”

“Stitches?” Meliodas echoed.

“Yes. Stitches.” Zeldris turned back to him, meeting his gaze. He looked wrecked. Meliodas had fainted to Zeldris in soft over-sized clothes and hair looking like he just woke up. Now Zeldris looked like he hadn’t slept for days. His hair was a complete mess, sticking up in all the wrong directions, and his eyes were red. Had Zeldris… been crying?

“You stitched me up?”

“What, you thought I’d just let you bleed out?” Zeldris looked away again. Meliodas swallowed around the emotions welling up in his throat.

“No, I just…”

“Whatever,” Zeldris mumbled, shoulders tense. “I don’t have time to deal with your dead body.”

But he did have time to sit by Meliodas beside for who knew how long.

“Thanks, Zel.”

Silence fell over them as Zeldris kept staring at the wall. Once again, Meliodas felt helpless at his brother’s pain. Moments passed before Zeldris spoke up again.

“I thought you were done with him. I mean, you left and… and-”

Zeldris trailed off and Meliodas felt his heart break. If he could do it all over, he’d do it all so different. At least where his baby brother was concerned. How would things have turned out – how would they have turned out if he just…

“Why would you go back now?”

“I haven’t!” Meliodas cried out. Was that really what Zeldris thought of him?

“So, you just get stabbed for fun?”

“No, I…” Meliodas sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t. I didn’t want to do this, but… He threatened my friends, Zel! I just… How could I drag them into that?”

Zeldris didn’t say anything, but Meliodas knew that, at the very least, Zeldris understood that. He too had to have people he wanted keep safe. Someone he wanted to not let their father ruin.

“That’s why I made a deal with Galand.”

“You think that’s wise?”

“No, of course not, but I had no choice,” Meliodas sighed again. “Galand is a man of his word. I did this, to stay out of it. I have no intention of ever going back to him.”

Zeldris nodded and Meliodas leaned back against the pillows, feeling the energy drain. He was exhausted. Zeldris somehow looked worse. Meliodas reached out, brushing a few fingers over Zeldris hand.

“I, uh, I need to get to work.” Zeldris cleared his throat, standing up. “You can stay here- Actually, you need to stay here. I’m not stitching you up again. You can borrow some clothes from the closet if you want and, well, there’s some leftovers in the fridge. So, you know…”

“Thanks…”

Zeldris walked to the bedroom door. With a hand on the doorknob, he paused, “Hey, Meliodas.”

“Yeah?”

“Next time, call someone else for help.”

A smile pulled at Meliodas’ lips.

“Love you too, Zel!”

[twotangledsisters]

WIP Ask Game Modern Tangled that is Dark?

Ooh, Id' pretty much forgotten about this one!

If I'm honest, I should probably take this one out of the folder as I doubt it'll ever be completed for umm... Reason I can't disclose? (one person will know what I mean with this xD)

But it was a Tangled AU taking place in modern day where Gothel needed Rapunzel's blood for a medicine she needed to live, and when Rapunzel's parents said there child would not be used for that, she kidnapped Rapunzel and locked her in her attic.

Eugene and Lance are thieves running from the law and in a badly gone heist they break into this woman's house to hide and find Rapunzel.

Rapunzel is in pretty bad condition as she hasn't seen sunlight since she was a child, she's very skittish, underweight, terrified (this is why it's titled dark)...

Eugene and Lance unable to go to law enforcement break her out of the attis and bring her with them back to their hideout. A basement! What an upgrade for this poor girl...

Eventually Lance remembers he has this friend who's father is in the police and she's going through a bit of a rebellious stage so she might be a good option for getting information without having to reach out to the police.

Together they figure out who Rapunzel is and work to get her home safely.

Here's a snippet:

The sound of movement cause Eugene to turn around quickly and Lance to hide behind his friend. Fuck. Just they’re luck to climb into an attic with someone in it! People barely spent time in the attic and the window had been boarded up! But then out of the shadows stepped a girl about their age, green eyes wide and confused. Her hair was down to her waist, greasy and matted. Her skin was pale, and she was littered with bruises. Eugene lowered the weapon he was holding. The girl looked at him before stepping back. There was a clinging sound and as Eugene narrows his eyes, he realised the girl was chained to the ground. “Shit…” “She’s clearly a ghost. We’ve walked into a horror movie. I knew this was a bad idea,” Lance groaned. Eugene shook his head as he pulled out his lock picks. “I wish this were a horror movie, as our day just got a whole lot harder.” When Eugene started to move the girl rushed back, back hitting the wall. She shook her head. “It’s okay,” Eugene whispered, holding out a hand reassuringly. “I’m going to help you, alright?” Lance watched Eugene’s slow movements. The girl slid to the ground with her back against the wall, closing her eyes tightly as Eugene began to pick the locks. “Do you speak English?” She didn’t respond. “My name’s Flynn, that’s Lance.” Lance grinned. “Pleasure to meet you!” The girl opened one eye to look at the two then pointed towards the door. “Mother.” “Is she who looked you up here?” The girl looked at Eugene but didn’t say anything else. “Alright…” Eugene managed to free one wrist before moving onto the next. “Lance, we need to drop her off at a police station before heading home.” “What? No!” “No?” “We can’t drop her off at a police station.” “We don’t go in, we just leave her and run. The police can help her.” “They won’t help her Eugene, if she isn’t talking, they’ll throw her right into an asylum…” Lance held himself. “Trust me, they’re horrible.” Eugene frowned. “Well, we can’t leave her here.” “We could take her?” Eugene scoffed. “And do what, may I ask?” “Help her, of course.” “How?” “If I’d been locked in an attic, the first thing I’d want my brave rescuers to do is give me a delicious hot meal! You like food?” He asked the girl. “Food?” she asked. “Yeah!” Lance smiled. The girl smiled back and nodded. Eugene sighed. “Great… Two food motivated full grown kids for me to care for…”

As you can tell the tone is also very... off. I'd have to rework this fic a lot to make it work.

As always, thanks for the ask!

[electricbluebutterflies]

Jess/Leto + “i’m really drunk, please help me get safely out of the way so i don’t ruin my friends wedding.”

Cannot believe I'm using flashbacks to 2014 wedding season for THESE babes but here we are. Obviously modern AU, PG-ish, also on ao3.

Jessica does not do formal events.

Correction – Jessica does not do crowded disasters where she’s not totally sure how she got invited but what sense of obligation she has meant going even though she knew this would be bad, where everyone else is showing more skin than she is and that’s giving her anxiety, and… the whole open-bar thing probably isn’t helping either, but it’s taking the edge off pleasantly enough. Dark bitter red wine makes everything better, and even matches her dress, and who the hell invites what has to be three hundred people to a wedding, and-

At a certain point, it becomes apparent that wearing heels was a bad idea, and being here alone and making the life choices she has over the past few hours may have been even worse but too late now.

She decides the polite thing to do, in her current state of impulsive but coherent and unsure she can walk in a straight line, is to hide. The dance-floor-related wedding traditions are about to start, and she needs to be on the other side of this hotel when the bouquet gets tossed, and-

Curling up in a hallway next to a plant is probably a lot of cliches, but she’s not sure she cares. No more wine. No more anything that might make getting up to her fourth-floor room more challenging than it’s already going to be, and maybe she should just do that but no the night is still young and she doesn’t want to disappear completely and-

On the other hand, disappearing would be good. Not inflicting herself on anyone else would be very good.

It would work, too, if she were left alone. If she had the judgment to pick somewhere out of the way enough that she won’t see anyone but not out of the way enough that she’s going to get to watch mistake sex, and it’s always so hard to find a good hiding place when she needs one, why is this hard, why is she like this, why is she-

Of course, because this night is just not going according to plan, she isn’t alone for long.

The thing about big weddings where she probably couldn’t pick either of the new spouses out of a lineup is that she doesn’t know anyone else either, and usually that’s in her favor. Given this many options, unknown factors do not take interest in quiet women with high necklines, and it’s safe, she gets to drink and people-watch and be almost normal for a few hours without any problems, usually it works, usually-

“Are you alright?”

Jessica doesn’t even turn to look at the source of her interruption. “If I say I’m not, will you do anything? Does it matter?”

What she wants to do, what she is very tempted to do, is to tell this unknown person to get gone. She’s her own problem, not anyone else’s, especially not…

She turns her head to at least see what she’s dealing with, and fuck this just got more complicated. Around her age and easy to look at is not what she was expecting, and she doesn’t flirt for anything, the words always come out wrong and her precautions get in the way and-

“If you’re trying to hide behind that plant, your dress isn’t…”

At least it’s not mean. At least it’s not the comments she’s used to, why is she wearing something with a long twirly skirt when most other women in her age bracket are in something shorter or more fitted or… she’s in no mood for that, not from someone who currently looks like sunlight and oh she’s not sure she’s ever even had a crush before but-

“I’m not hiding. I just can’t be in there right now. I’ll end up crying and then if I’m lucky get a concussion from the throw bouquet.”

The pretty man takes this as enough of a cue to get down on the ground next to her, which… is not her intent but she’s not complaining. “So, hiding.”

“Taking a break. There’s still wine in there. I’ll go back. Eventually.”

He gives her a look like is she sure that’s a good idea, and how can someone she’s known for like a minute see through her so clearly, and-

“Okay if I stay out here, then?”

She should, objectively, say no. She should remember that basically all of her paranoid self-defense mechanisms involve not spending time with people she doesn’t know who seem interested in her. She is… not in the mood to do anything she normally would.

“And what are you hiding from?” she asks instead, making space against the wall for her new friend.

She doesn’t expect an answer, but there’s a trust-fall in all of this, maybe some kind of guilt that opens him up. “Matchmaking. Not… not my type.”

“You have a type?”

Let her dig this hole as deep as possible, she thinks. Let her get into as much trouble as she can before she does anything particularly reckless. Let her-

“Conversation is good. Even this is… better.”

She’s not going to do anything, she thinks as he moves closer, close enough to touch but doesn’t. She’s not going to compromise herself. But the perfect cliché of two strangers hiding together on the fringes of a wedding is just…

“Too bad for you, I’m usually quiet.”

“I have trouble believing that.”

“Well. Not sober. And you’re distracting. And I’m not… good at any of this.”

She knows not to say too much – even in current state, even less inhibited than usual, she knows where to draw the line. Don’t talk pain with someone who doesn’t need to know, don’t be that weird bitch in someone’s recap of a strange night, don’t-

“I don’t think anyone’s actually good at being a person,” he murmurs. “Some of us just fake it more convincingly.”

They sit there in the quiet for what seems like forever, definitely longer than she expects the moment will last. At some point his fingers find hers and it feels like a fleeting memory of a past life, but nothing more than that happens, nothing new to her and nothing she’d have to justify to herself later. There’s something comforting about it all, her body safe between a kind unknown and what might be the bastard crossbreeding of a fern and a cactus, like nothing could be more real than this, like-

“They’ve probably cut the cake by now,” he says at some point. “Want me to get you something?”

“If there’s anything left… yes. I’ll be out here. Still don’t wanna move.”

She watches him walk away, and there’s no doubt in her mind that he’ll come back. Something about these situations could lead to bonding, and this is the first time she’s ever let it, and-

Maybe it’s the atmosphere, the occasion and the fancy dress and oh she’s not sure where she actually put her heels and she’ll have to find them sooner or later, but this feels like the beginning of the rest of her life. Maybe…

[bokebelle]

connie springer + friends with benefits

A/N: this is very very self-indulgent and ended up being longer than intended but please enjoy my Connie brainrot bc i love him a lot and he needs more content

WARNINGS: 16+; friends with benefits relationship; mentions of sex; modern au

PAIRINGS: connie springer x gn!reader

TAGS: fluff, a tiny tiny bit of angst.

REQUESTS: open

One of the best people to get into a friends with benefits type of relationship 💯

You guys would have to be good friends before this kind of relationship happens. Connie may be fun and goofy from time to time but he wants to make sure you trust him as a partner and vice versa

He probably wasn't even looking for a fwb type relationship tbh it probably just happened and you guys just went with it

it probably started with growing sexual tension whenever you two hung out. A little playful flirting here and there 👀

At a party, you two were a little flirter than usual and he just looked around to see if anyone was around, and whispered in your ear if you wanted to make out in his car LMAO of course you agreed

things just escalated over time til he offered to take you home one night and you best believe he did NOT go home that night

When the post nut clarity finally hit that you guys hooked up, he just asks if you would want to do it again

Connie turned to look at you, lips slightly swollen, with a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and a light sheen of sweat on his chest. "So...wanna do it again?"

"Right now?!" you sit up, instantly feeling the soreness in your lower half. you definitely weren't ready for another round

"Not now, dummy. But maybe...whenever we both wanna, y'know..." he avoided looking at you, suddenly feeling embarrassed at his own proposition. "but if you totally don't want to, it's fine I understand."

A small smile dances on you lips. He looked cute all flustered, suddenly looking nervous when he was anything but just moments ago. "I think I'd like that."

You two don't really tell anyone, but you don't keep it a secret either. He'd tell them what's up if people would ask (if you wanted them to know) but since you guys flirt all the time no one really suspected anything more was going on

the longer your relationship progresses, the bolder he gets lmao literally went from being shy about asking to hookup in his apartment to dragging your ass you his car during a date because his dick "suddenly missed his best buddy" you smacked him

He is also very open to experimenting and trying new things. He'll try it once and if it doesn't work then it's fine. He also respects your boundaries if ever you don't feel comfortable with the idea of trying something new. he won pressure you and won't bring it up

Probably uses a safeword like "taco"

He isn't THAT rough that you'd need one, but he wants to give you the option of stopping whenever you feel like you can handle it 😭 this baby doesn't wanna hurt you and wants you as safe as possible 🥺

This man is a great mix of playful and serious in the bedroom. He knows when to make you laugh during sex and to tone it down when you just need a physical release. your comfort is his priority so he wants to make sure he fits whatever you need

Connie is actually really good with aftercare despite not knowing it's actually a thing!!

He just knows it's on him to take care of his partner afterwards so he helps you clean up, gives you clean clothes especially if you're at his place, and offers you a snack or asks if you wanna watch a movie

If you want to cuddle and just talk, he's totally down! if you also need some personal space, he'll totally respect that and give you the time you need, whenever you need it.

He can be a total flirt but he's also very friendly and knows his limits so he doesn't end up sending mixed signals. He's flirty enough to keep things interesting but not enough to confuse either of you about your relationship unless he falls for you.

Great aftercare? Attentive in the bedroom? Funny, handsome, respectful king? overall one of the best people to have a FWB relationship hands down

If you ever decide you want to end that kind of setup, he'll totally respect it and would still treat you as a good friend! will occasionally make inside jokes about hooking up but it's all in good nature because he enjoyed his time with you and he wants you to remember that time with the same smile he has whenever he thinks about it pls i love him

BONUS: Falling in love with Connie during your FWB relationship (and him falling in love you with back)

honestly how can you not fall for him

Connie is always so sweet, funny, respectful, both in and out of the bedroom so it wasn't long before you started wanting to stay in his arms a bit more after a good session

Connie never treated you any differently, but there were times when things just felt different

The moment you knew you had feelings for him was when he fucked you differently compared to your previous sessions

Sure he would blow your back out every now and then, but there were also more mellow times with him when you both were feeling lazy and needy

But THIS was a new experience. He fucked you slowly, but intensely. His hands were all over you but his touches were more gentle and soft. His kisses were a little bit sweeter and the caresses on your face lingered just a bit longer.

You snuggled into his chest a little more after that and you swore he held you a bit tighter, pulling your body just a bit closer to his. When you became aware of his heart beating under your ear, and found yourself being lulled to sleep by it, you knew you were fucked both literally and figuratively

Your feelings for him weighed you down more and more until you decided you were playing a dangerous game and you had to get out before you reached the point of no return

it sucked having to break things off with Connie but it was the first rule of any fwb relationship and you broke it more and more everyday.

As you sat up and rolled out of bed, ready to get dressed and leave, you felt Connie's arms come up behind you and rested his chin against your shoulder.

"Hey, why don't you stay the night?" he asked, placing a quick kiss on the junction between your neck and shoulder.

You exhale heavily, dreading what was coming next. You didn't plan on breaking it off so soon, but you knew staying the night would only be the wrong choice to make - for your sake and your heart's.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"C'mon, this isn't the first time you've stayed the night. Please?" You wanted to give in. You wanted to roll around, kiss his pretty face and spend the night in his arms. But knowing he didn't feel the same way as you did, knowing you'd leave with a heart that would break a little bit more if you stayed over, is what made you say no.

"It's not a good idea, Connie." you take a deep breath. "Actually, I think we aren't a good idea anymore."

You felt him withdraw his arms from your torso, the areas where he held you instantly feeling cold and empty. You hold on tighter to the sheets, partly to cover yourself up but mostly to keep you from breaking down in front of him.

"What?! Why not? Did I do something wrong? Was I too rough?"

Connie desperately racked his brain for what could have gone wrong from when you were saying his name like a prayer to now. He didn't want to mess it up with you, he really didn't. You slowly became someone he felt safe with. You became the one he wanted to see first thing in the morning, that's why he wanted you to stay over. He was falling for you, but he didn't want to admit it just yet. Maybe you caught on and didn't feel the same way? He knew he'd have to tell you eventually, but he wanted to be selfish a little bit longer. He wanted to enjoy what you guys had before going back to being just friends with no 'benefits'.

"I know we agreed to being just friends but I think I'm starting to feel something more than that and it's really stupid. But I don't think I can do this anymore without falling for you more than I already have." The tension in the air is palpable. In the time it takes for what you said to finally sink in Connie's mind, you decided his silence was his final answer.

When Connie saw your figure quietly get up from the edge of the bed, he knew this was his chance.

He quickly made his way over to your side, sitting on the edge. He reached out and gently wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Don't go, please." He whispered into the skin of your back.

You turn to look at him, keeping your tears at bay, trying to pry his arms off of you. God, with the way he was looking at you, that was almost all the convincing you need to stay just last night with him

"Connie, don't make this harder on me. You don't understa-"

"No, [y/n]" he cuts you off, now moving his hands to hold yours. "you don't understand." he delicately presses a kiss to your fingertips before kissing the back of your hand. "I want you. I want you to stay."

The meaning behind his words lit a spark in you that erupted into a passionate flame in your chest.

Connie wanted you. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

You cup his face, one of his hands coming up to rest over yours. You lean down and place the sweetest, softest kiss you can on his lips. It's not much but you hope he can feel all you've wanted to tell him in that one kiss.

"Okay, Connie, okay" you whisper as your lips pulled away from his own, a small smile forming when he whined at the loss of contact.

You committed the image of Connie Springer pouting at you because he wanted a kiss to your memory. You would tease him about it soon enough, you just wanted cherish the fact that he wanted kisses - your kisses.

You had more nights to share, more kisses to give him, but for now you just wanted to enjoy the feeling of having Connie in your arms, knowing you had each other as long as your hearts wanted.

You wanted to enjoy the feeling of Connie simply being there, finally being yours. He wasn't going anywhere, and neither were you.

"I'll stay."

[commander-kirschtein]

College!AU headcanons for the 104th

masterlist

Eren Jaeger:

Degree: some sort of humanities subject. I’m torn between history and geography (I can see him only going though because of pressure from his dad/Zeke because they both went so he feels like he has to.)

Would definitely get some tattoos whilst at uni as well as growing his hair out (”haircuts are too expensive for college students.”)

Needs coffee every morning else he feels like death (pulls way too many all nighters to get work done - Mikasa is not happy with this habit.)

Probably wakes up 10 minutes before a lecture and just legs it - he sets alarms but he tells everyone they never go off (he’s lying he presses snooze every time.)

Mikasa Ackerman:

Degree: languages !! Which ones though I’m not sure? I feel like she’s a polyglot so would already be fluent in French and Spanish so would chose to have a degree in one of them alongside something more challenging - maybe Russian or Japanese ??

Would maybe join a creative writing/poetry society, she likes to write in her spare time as a way of expressing her emotions as she finds opening up a bit of a struggle.

Before going to college, she’d take a gap year to do some travelling. Has all of her adventures written down in a diary that she often reads once she starts college.

The queen of houseplants. She has so many, they all have names and she’d never dream of letting any of them die.

Armin Arlert:

Degree: astrophysics or marine biology (I know Armin loves the ocean but he is also a space nerd don’t argue with me) BUT another option could be artificial intelligence ?? He just thinks it’s interesting.

Loves a good group study session. He finds he takes in information better if he talks to people about it and tries to explain concepts (be warned if you ever ask Armin about his subject - you will be there for hours.)

Probably the only person who does all the reading for his subject PLUS the additional reading. He doesn’t even see it as a chore because he likes to know as much as he possibly can !!

Would suggest that everyone in his lectures makes a group chat where they can send notes, thinking that other people will send theirs so he can make sure he got all the info down - nope everyone is just stealing your notes Armin I’m sorry.

Jean Kirstein:

Degree: could definitely see him studying modern history with politics, don’t ask me why I just see it.

Left handed, he knows the struggle of writing something only for it to be smudged seconds later and his hand covered in ink

Will pull out his guitar at any given opportunity. The king of playing wonderwall (it’s a crowd favourite and everyone ends up singing.)

You know Jean is stressed if he’s rubbing/touching his face a lot - and drinking lots of black coffee (he doesn’t like the taste but thinks he’s cool and tough for drinking it.)

Sasha Braus:

Degree: culinary science.

Never has a pen. If you sit next to Sasha in a lecture she will always ask for a pen (a pen which you will never see again I’m sorry - in fairness, you won’t want it back because she’s chewed the ends of it.)

If you have a shared living arrangement with Sasha you have been blessed. She loves to cook !! (Kinda a given with what she’s studying) and is always willing to make dinner for everyone (she will make a mess though so be prepared to do the cleaning up afterwards.)

I can definitely see her joining the choir or even being in a musical theatre production! She’s a great singer, albeit not the best dancer but she has the energy and spirit and that’s what’s important.

Connie Springer:

Degree: something like hospitality and tourism (he’s got such amazing people skills! he would be great at this and has the right energy for it.)

This boy would live on instant noodles if it wasn’t for him sharing a place with sasha. and the most erratic eating schedule (“what do you mean I can’t eat breakfast at 3pm??”)

Has a massive crate of energy drinks from cosco. Goes through said crate way faster than should be humanly possible.

His laptop is covered in stickers (many are random ones he’s collected and slapped on but he got some of Sasha and Jean making stupid faces that he put on there too - Sasha found this hilarious, Jean was not impressed.)

Marco Bodt:

Degree: English language with drama.

Musical !! Theatre !! Society !! This man is a triple threat, but honestly he prefers to be part of the chorus because he doesn’t like the pressure and stress of having a main part.

The best person to have with you on a night out. You’re throwing up? Marco will hold your hair back. You need a lift home? If sober he’ll take you and if he’s been drinking he will get you a taxi and come with to make sure you get back safe. An absolute angel <3

The most likely person to become an RA. He also volunteers to help with many of the events on campus and would probably be part of the student association committee.

Historia Reiss/Christa Lenz:

Degree: she seems like a psychology gal to me. Probably would take psychology as a degree and then would go on for a masters in something more specified like educational psychology.

You know she’s got a stationary set up to die for. highlighters in every colour, all of her notes written in gorgeous handwriting, her desk is super organised !!

You’d never see this girl going to a lecture or seminar in casual clothing - she’s always dressed up even if the rest of the students are in what looks like what they wore to bed the night before.

Likes to take the lead in group projects. Can’t stand missing deadlines so is very organised (has a very cute diary too where she writes important stuff down.)

Ymir:

Degree: sociology or philosophy.

Definitely a last minute assignment writer, will always ask to borrow notes because she didn’t do the reading.

Sells stuff on depop as a way of making money through college. she makes badges and well as some really cool resin earrings (proudly worn by her gf Historia.)

Sits all the way at the back of the lecture hall so she can go on her phone (to message Historia obvs.)

Bertoldt Hoover:

Degree: film studies with English language

I can see him being a techie for the theatre at his uni. he does the lighting and sound for the annual musical !! (trips over cables and bangs his head on lighting bars all the time but still loves doing it.)

Because of his degree, likes to hold film screenings for his friends. In another post I hc that Reiner won’t shut up during movies and Bert is probably the only person who can deal with Reiner’s constant commentary.

Drank for the first time in college and did not enjoy the experience. He’s definitely a puker and has decided instead he will be the big brother friend and make sure everyone gets home safety and will watch the drinks whilst they go dance.

Reiner Braun:

Degree: some sort of engineering (I’m thinking chemical??)

Becomes a bit of a gym rat once getting to college. Also joins a lot of societies because he likes to be sociable and will often drag Bert along too (why can I see these two going to like ping pong club or something. whoever loses has to buy the takeout that night.)

Is going broke because of his daily caramel frappchino from starbucks (all the baristas know him by name.)

Okay but Reiner owning a motorbike ?? Sign me up. He’s the coolest kid on campus.

Annie Leonhardt:

Degree: biochemistry.

Annie isn’t much of a social person and keeps her circle small, but she realises things are going to be pretty boring if all she does is stay in her room, so she ends up joining the girls soccer team.

A very tidy person to live with. will probably tidy up after everyone because she cannot stand the mess - but be warned if this happens all the time she’s not afraid to confront her roommates about it.

If she’s stressed about assignments, her sweet tooth comes out big time. her biggest guilty pleasure is white chocolate and she always has a bar before an exam or a big essay is due.

[mirohlixie]

Never Enough (Hyunlix) Pt. 1

Pairing: Felix x Hyunjin Word Count: 2.4K Genre: AU, love, dystopia

Synopsis: In a world where being different from the conventional gender and sexuality rules means death, the gay youngster Felix struggles to hide his true sexuality. He is doing well until he meets Hyunjin, an undercover hitman hired by the government to get rid of all the "different" people in hiding. The moment the two meet each other, both of their lives change forever, but will it be enough?

Content warnings: AU, homophobia, discrimination against LGBTQ+, explicit language.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~He looked up from his notebook, out of his window. The wind was blowing and rain was falling out of the sky in thick drops. The poor boy got bored from being inside all the time, but the weather wasn’t very forgiving. It had been like this for a couple of days now and it didn’t look like it was going to change soon.

“Felix,” a soft voice called from downstairs. “Do you want to come down for tea?” It was the same old story every day. He’d be in his room, usually reading or working on song lyrics all day. Some time afternoon his mother would start to wonder what he was doing up there all the time, and call him down for tea. He always said no, like he was going to do now. He simply didn’t feel like being among other humans.

All Felix longed for was to take a long walk, anywhere. Just him and nature and no other people. A place where he could be alone with his thoughts without feeling like it was a sin to even have them cross his mind. Because that was what his thoughts were: a sin. A boy like him should not be thinking about the things he thought of. Even better, it was forbidden. If anyone ever found out about the words dancing in his mind, he’d have to pay with his life.

At first, Felix had been pretty good at hiding his thoughts. He’d be among his family and laugh and have fun with them. However, as he grew up, he found it harder and harder not to let the words slip his mind. The safe storage that was once his head slowly began to deteriorate. His subconscious longed for the freedom that would come with the exposure of his secret. However, that moment could never exist. He didn’t want to die. Not because of this.

“Please Lix,” his mother called again. “You’re never downstairs anymore. You’re withering away in that room of yours. Wouldn’t you like to be with us just for a little? Just one cup of tea?” Felix knew his mother would keep asking until he’d give in, and he couldn’t give in.

Especially today his mind had been like a time bomb. Every time he looked in the mirror he had to withhold himself from saying those forbidden words. From saying those words that would essentially cost him his life. He could not even imagine what it would be like if he was among others. If his reflection alone was already enough to make him break, then what would a living human being do to him? How would he ever be able to resist their curiosity?

“No,” he called down. “I’m about to go on a walk,” it was an impulsive excuse and he hadn’t known why exactly he’d thought it would be the perfect one. However, now he’d already said it and had to follow through with the plan. He hopped from his bed and quickly put on a pair of shoes. He looked out the window, sighing when he saw the rain, and sprinted down the stairs to put on a coat.

“In this kind of weather?” His mother questioned, raising an eyebrow as she saw her son appear in the hallway. “It’s raining cats and dogs.”

“I know, but I like the rain,” Felix lied. “So I’m going on a walk. I’ll be back before dark, mom,” he zipped his coat and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek before walking out the front door.

The cold wind hit him in the face like a brick and he had to take a deep breath before he could find the courage to actually walk down the driveway and leave the perimeters of his parents’ house.

“I like the rain,” he muttered to himself as he pulled the hood of his coat closer to his face and started to conquer the strong winds fighting for dominance over him. “I’m such a bad liar.”

It was empty in the streets, which was perfect. The last thing Felix needed now was encountering someone he knew. He wanted to be alone. Completely alone. The rain started to get less intense the more he walked, which was a welcome change. The wind still stayed the same, pulling at his clothes and trying to push him back towards his home.

He loved the thundering sounds the moving air brought with it. It completely masked any other sound coming from him and his surroundings. It made him feel safe; safer than he was at home. Safer than he was anywhere.

Here he’d be able to speak his mind without care. Here he’d be able to be himself just for a second. He took a deep breath, looked around him, and smiled a little before uttering the dangerous words.

“I am different,” he whispered at first. Fear grabbed him by the throat as he checked his surroundings again, afraid someone would’ve caught him anyway, but there was nobody there. “I like men,” he elaborated. “I am a sinner because I like men instead of women,”

To Felix, it was hideous that this detail about himself could cost him his life. Unfortunately, it was the truth. Having a sexual and romantic attraction to people of the same sex was not allowed. Falling for or having a relationship with someone of the same sex was not allowed.

It was crazily old-fashioned and absolutely the highest form of discrimination, but yes; your sexuality could get you killed. If you were pleaded guilty of being "different", it meant immediate death, as ridiculous as that may sound. No trial, no bail. If there were enough grounds to convince the government you were gay, you were done for.

Not only men loving men or women loving women suffered this tragic and brutal fate, but every person who was different. Every person who didn't fit the standard boxes of society, the standard boxes being women loving men and men loving women. There was no room for nuisance.

Why these rules existed in today’s day and age? Nobody knew. The simple answer was that it had always been like that. People who were different were a threat. People who were different didn't have a right to walk this earth. To them, the lives lost did not matter, which was absolutely disgusting in Felix’s opinion.

To them, it was merely a way to make sure the earth wouldn’t get overcrowded. The way Felix saw it, they were just scared of change. In ancient times it had been normal to be a man romantically involved with another man. It was the modern-day society that had made it into a sin. The few people who rejected this idea and showed resistance awaited the same fate as these "different" people. Nobody was safe, so it was better to pretend you agreed with it.

Felix's parents also lived by these rules, so ever since Felix found out his preference wasn't towards women, he'd hidden from them. They couldn't find out, or they would probably report him to the state. Their own son meant nothing to them if he was different.

Of course, tracking down every single "different" person was difficult, and seemed nearly impossible, since you’re not exactly born with a sign on your head that says you’re different. However, the government had its ways to track you down, may it be legal or illegal. These ways were sneaky and far from agreeable. You never knew who you could trust and who not. Living in this world was a true hell for people like Felix, but there was nothing they could do.

“I’m fucking different!” Felix shouted into the wind, knowing nobody could hear him here with the wind raging around him. “I like men and there’s nothing I can do!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure you accept the terms and conditions of this task?” The lady on the phone had asked him for the tenth time. “Are you sure you are willing to take this task upon you and deal with the consequences that may come with it?” Hyunjin had nodded before realizing she would not be able to see that.

“Yes, ma’am,” he’d said. “I accept all of it. I am ready, I promise,” he’d looked at the booklet that had fallen onto the doormat this morning. He’d been waiting for it for a while now and today had been the day it had finally arrived. He’d almost jumped when he’d heard the sound of the booklet hitting the fabric. It was dumb and he knew that, but to him, this seemed like the only option.

It was fucked up, Hyunjin knew that and would never try to deny it. However, he needed the money he’d get out of it. Not for himself, but for his mother. His dear mother, the woman who’d raised him to be the man he was today, was a sickly woman now. She’d been diagnosed with a rare disease that could only be helped with expensive treatment. Without the treatment, the chances she’d not see the end of the year were very big. If she did get the treatment, it would give her the rest of her life back.

That’s all Hyunjin wanted for her; She had to see him grow up. She had to see her grandchildren grow up. He couldn’t lose her, not in a society like this one.

“Ten grant,” he’d whispered to himself. That was what he’d receive if he went through with this. It was enough to pay for his mother’s treatment and her medicine. It would be enough to keep her alive. It would cost him a part of himself, but that would be worth it if he was able to save the woman who meant the most to him. But was ten grant enough in exchange for a life? Because that was what this task entailed…

The task he was about to accept, was that of a hitman. The government granted rewards of ten thousand dollars to those who were willing to go undercover and find out which members of their society did not follow the law concerning sexuality. Well, those who found them received only three thousand. Those who then also managed to end those so-called moles would receive the full ten grant. His job would be to be among the people and find out who was hiding their true, forbidden sexuality and to simply end their lives.

The government needed undercover hitmen like this because there were way too many moles for their normal police forces. The standard procedure was execution in the name of the state, according to the legal methods, like they to criminals who got the death sentence

These hitmen were different. Their methods were technically illegal, but if they got caught, they would be let off again before they could even go into trial. The government would close their eyes for crimes like the murder of these moles as long as the hit-man had an official permit given to them by the state. These hitmen were highly necessary since there was no way the government could punish every single mole, and other than that they'd gotten better at hiding their true nature as well.

“Then I would like to congratulate you with your permit,” the lady on the phone had said. “You know how it works. Find someone you think is suspicious, figure out whether they genuinely are or not, and then eventually end their life. Send the body over to the morgue and receive your ten grant. Try not to get caught. It's such a hassle to make them drop the charges,” she’d explained once more. “If you have any questions, do call us. The last thing I would like to add, is that the most important aspect of this job is instinct. Make sure you follow it. Don’t be a fool. Don’t ignore the signs.”

“But how will I be certain if it’s one of them?” Hyunjin had questioned. That’s what the moles were often referred to: them. Not us, but the other.

“You will know,” the lady had assured him. “I promise. I have to move on to the next call now. I wish you much wisdom and luck, Hwang Hyunjin. We are looking forward to seeing your first catch soon,” and with that, she’d ended the call. Hyunjin had sat on the couch and contemplated the idea for the rest of the morning, fumbling around with the permit that had just been activated in his hands.

Was he actually going to kill someone only because of their sexuality? He knew they were deemed evil. They were different, that's what everyone had always been told over the past centuries. They didn’t deserve a place in this society, according to the government. It was never completely explained why this difference from the rest was such a bad thing. They were still people, weren't they? Was he really capable of taking another human’s life?

He shook the thought off as he was walking outside in the rain with his hood pulled over his hair a couple of hours after the call. He needed the money, so he was going to succeed. He didn’t care how much it would cost him, or how long it was going to take him to find someone. He was going to try the best he could and that was all he could promise right now. After all, it would take a while before he’d find the first person, wouldn’t it? They were called moles for a reason.

That’s what Hyunjin thought before he saw him; the person who would change his life forever. The person that truly caught his attention. At first, he thought he was just looking at the back someone who had lost his mind, yelling meaningless words into the wind, but when he listened more closely, alarms should’ve started to ring immediately in the back of his head.

“I’m fucking different!” The figure with the blonde hair yelled into the wind, probably thinking nobody would be able to hear him over the loud thundering of the air. “I like men and there’s nothing I can do!” Hyunjin bit his lip. Bingo, he thought. This was going to be easier than he’d expected.

[readingonpluto]

16 Days of Nessian - Day 1/16

2 + 5 = 7 ~ Nessian Modern AU

*If you have any ideas for fanfiction or headcanons, leave them below!*

Word count: 2242

There they are. 

I clutch the envelope in my hands, heart racing in my chest. I knew… I already knew, and yet somehow getting it confirmed makes it that much scarier. The doctor gave me a blurry photograph of our child, slipping it in an envelope to keep it safe so I could show Cass. 

I have to show Cass. He’s going to be excited, and yet I’m scared of how he will react. He has always wanted children, sometimes telling me about dreams he has had about our family. The moment is now here… A source of his joy, and yet… And yet I’m terrified. 

I unlock the door to our home, the house seeming quieter than usual. 

Cassian pops his head out of the doorway to the kitchen, a smile immediately playing over his face. He comes over to me, planting a kiss on my forehead, and then my mouth, holding me close. 

“You’re late.” His breath dances over my mouth, just before he kisses me again. 

“I had a doctor’s appointment,” I say, hugging him tightly, hoping that if I hold him long enough he will just know. 

Of course, that isn’t the case. He pushes me away just a little bit, arms still gripping my waist, but now concern lights his eyes as they search all over me. 

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“I wasn’t sure if it would be worth mentioning…” I hold the envelope to my chest, heart pounding in my ears. 

“But it is…” I nod. “Is something wrong?”

“No… No. Nothing is wrong.”

“Then--”

“Can we sit? Please.” He nods once, leading me over to our small table. I let him sit down in front of me, before taking my seat. 

“I’m going to need you not to be angry if you’re angry at all.”

He tilts his head slightly. “Do you think I’m going to be angry?”

“I don’t think so.” 

He stays silent, letting me take a few breaths before continuing. 

“I’ve noticed that I’ve gained some weight,” I start, weighing the options in my head. “And then I noticed I have missed two of my cycles.” His eyes flash, his gaze firmly on mine. “So I went in today to get an ultrasound. I did a few pregnancy tests beforehand, but I just wanted to make sure…” 

Cassian’s leg is bouncing and I can see he is trying to fight back a smile. He is truly trying his best to let me talk before saying anything. 

“I’m going to tell you, before I show you this,” I hold up the envelope. “That all three pregnancy tests I did were positive.” I hand him the envelope. 

He is brimming with joy as he gently opens it, pulling out the small blurry photo. 

“Is this…” He trails off, eyes fixed on the image, tears building up in his eyes. 

“We can’t know the gender until about four months in. But the doctor said that they’re healthy and everything is going fine.” I keep my gaze on him. I don’t think he is breathing. “I have another appointment in a month. I have the date so you can book it off work--”

Finally, he stands, making his way over to me before falling to his knees in front of me. 

“There is a baby inside of you. My child.” 

I nod, not sure what to say. His eyes are so bright, his tears so joyous that I don’t want to break the moment. Why did I ever think he was going to be angry? He pulls me forward just a bit, nuzzling his face into my stomach. 

“I’m going to be a dad.”

My fingers find his hair, lovingly playing with the ends. “You are.”

~

The next time, the house is much louder as I step into it. I can hear Fin giggling and Cass telling him a story of a time he, Azriel, and Rhysand all got food poisoning. I have no clue why Fin finds it so funny, but it is one of his favourites. His second is the time Cass met me for the first time. That’s one of my favourites too. 

I step into the living room, watching my two boys smile, pure joy radiating off of them. Finlay is the first to see me, pointing his chubby finger at me and reaching upwards. I immediately sweep into the room, picking him up and kissing him all over, causing another wave of giggles to erupt. 

I shift him to one arm, reaching for Cass with the other. Just as swiftly, he kisses my cheek, hugging me close. 

“Hello,” I say. 

“Hi, Sweetheart.” His eyes flick to the clock. “You’re a bit late.”

“I was picking up a few things.” Fin wiggles in my arms, a clear message to put him down. He half crawls, half walks over to his toys, already bored with our conversation. 

“Oh?”

“Oh.” I reach into my bag, pulling out a small envelope. Cassian’s eyes snap to mine before he takes it gently. 

“Should I be scared?”

“Nope,” I smile. “Maybe. Just open it.”

He grins, slowly--just to annoy me--pulling out the photo. Immediately, his eyebrows furrow. I knew he would be able to tell it was different this time. 

I step up next to him, gesturing at the photo. “That’s baby A, and that is baby B.”

His eyes find mine, making sure I’m serious, before sweeping me up into his arms. He kisses me hard, grinning from ear to ear. We had been trying to have another kid for about a year, and I knew he wasn’t expecting this.

“Twins?” I nod, smiling hard. “Are they okay? Nothing is wrong?”

“Nothing yet. They’re healthy so far, we just need to keep an eye on them.”

“Of course,” He kisses me again, setting me down only to pick up Fin and kiss him just as much. Our son had come over to see what the fuss was all about. 

“You’re going to be a big brother,” Cass tells him, showing him the photo. “You’re going to have two siblings to look after.” 

Fin points at the photograph, smiling at his father. “Wittle brother.” 

~

I swear it gets louder and louder every time I walk into this house. From the sounds of things, Cassian made the kids some food, and Fin is babbling about what he did at school to the twins. 

I slip into the kitchen where Cass is finishing up their meal--animal crackers for a treat. I wrap my arms around his waist, pushing my face into his back. 

“Hello, Sweetheart,” He says, placing a hand over my own. “How did it go?”

“You’ll be happy.”

“Yeah?” He smiles, and turns to me. “Do I get an envelope again?”

Laughing lightly, I hand him the folded paper containing our fourth between its pages. “You do.”

He takes out the photo, smiling at the image. “Quinn will be wanting a little sister. At two she knows exactly what she wants.”

“And Caspian will want a little brother, just to spite his twin.”

Cass grins. “They’re going to be way too powerful when they’re older. I almost feel bad for their teacher.”

He hands the photo back to me. “What do you want?”

“I’m just excited for a fourth.” He kisses the top of my head, animal cracker in hand. “I’ll be happy with anything.”

“Same.” I trail after my husband into the loud dinner room. Quinn is flipping through one of Fin’s work books, as her older brother eats his sandwich. Caspian on the other hand is frowning at his food. 

I slip into the seat next to our youngest. “What's wrong?”

“No like crust,” He mumbles out. 

“You like the crust.” He shakes his head. “Just try it.” Again, he shakes his head. I look to Cass, and he shrugs, setting down the crackers. 

“Baby, you need to eat it.” He says. 

Caspian crosses his arms, looking more cute than mad. “Why?”

“No animal crackers otherwise.” He shakes the bowl for emphasis. 

Caspian frowns, looking at his sandwich again. 

“I’ll eat crackers if he no want them,” Quinn says, looking up from the workbook. Caspian immediately starts eating his sandwich. 

I smile at Cass, standing to slip up to his side. “That's one way to do it.” “What’s the photo mummy?” Fin asks, pointing at the ultrasound in my hand. 

“Another surprise.” 

Finlay’s eyes light up, and he changes his pointing to the twins. “Another one?” I nod, laying the photo in front of them. I point to the little dot so Quinn and Caspian know what we’re talking about. 

“That there is either a little boy or a little girl. Right now they’re in mummy’s belly, but soon they will be there to meet you.”

“When?” Quinn asks. 

“Seven to eight months.” 

“Oh…” Quinn points to my stomach. “Can I feel?”

With animal crackers forgotten, Fin tells the twins all about how he became an older brother, and the wait, with each of them taking turns feeling their new sibling even if there is hardly anything there yet. 

“I’m happy they’re excited.” Cass whispers to me as I close the door to the twins’ room. 

“Me too.” I lean into him. “I was worried little Cas would be unhappy.”

“He seemed okay after Fin explained. I think he fed off his and Quinn’s joy.”

“Better than explaining that we can’t go back now.”

Cass laughs, nuzzling into my shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to anyway.”

~

This time, I am truly scared. Every time we talked, it was always four kids. Four kids, and then we were happy. Ezra is now four, two years older than everyone else when a new sibling was brought in. Finlay is now eight and the twins are six. Will they be happy or sad or even angry? 

They’re all watching a movie. I can hear the cheerful song playing from the television and all of them singing along, probably even acting it out. I smile, stepping into the house. However, before I can make my way into the room Cassian steps out of the kitchen, flour all down his apron and smile already on his face. 

“How was your check up?” He asks, as I lean up to kiss him. 

“Good,” I say, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice. “Are you baking?”

“Yeah, I thought I would make some cookies for a treat.”

I nod and Cass’s eyes roam over me, missing nothing. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Swallowing, I hand him the envelope. His eyes look up at me as he takes it, before flicking down again and pulling out the blurry photograph. He lets out a shaky breath, smiling. 

“Really?” He asks, looking up at me. 

“Yeah…” I swallow again. “You’re not… You’re happy?”

“Of course I’m happy!” He pulls me to him, squeezing me tightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

A small smile of hope plays on my lips. “We only talked about four kids, never five.”

“So?” He holds me at arms length, grinning from ear to ear. “If you are happy, then I am too. Adding one more to our family is amazing!” “Adding?” We both turn to find Fin, Quinn, Caspian, and Ezra in the doorway, all looking slightly confused. They must have come over when they heard Cass shout. 

I walk over to them, kneeling on their level, holding out the photo which Fin takes. He smiles passing it to the others. 

Ezra jumps up, shifting from foot to foot. “Is this a baby?” He asks. I nod, smiling. “I’m not going to be the youngest anymore!”

He runs over, wrapping his arms around me, followed by the twins then Fin. Not soon later, I feel Cassian’s arms hold all of us. 

“I’m so excited,” I hear Fin whisper. 

She comes out the hard way. It was a rough pregnancy, but she is okay, and in my arms, and breathing. 

I’m shaking and crying, brushing wisps of hair from her face. Cassian left to get the kids, and I finally let myself crumble. 

“You alright?” Feyre asks from where she sits not too far away. 

“Yeah,” I breathe. “I was just… I was so scared…”

She stands, wrapping her arm around my shoulder, Elain coming up on my other side. 

“It's okay now.” Elain whispers. “She is safe.”

I nod, trying to breathe as my daughter sleeps soundly on my chest. We sit like that for a few seconds, before I finally have a clear moment and look up at my sisters. 

“Eleanor.”

“Pardon?” Elain asks, confused. 

“Eleanor. The name means light, or shining one.”

Feyre smiles. “Cassian will love it.” “Nelly for short?” Azriel asks, looking up from his book. 

I beam. “Nelly for short.”

“Mummy!” Ezra’s voice rings out, stumbling over to me. “Is she okay?”

“She is okay,” I shift so he can see his little sister better. 

Cassian helps Ezra up onto the bed, so the twins and Finlay can also see her. 

“Does she have a name yet?” Fin asks, his gaze never leaving his young sister. 

“I was thinking of Eleanor.” I look up at Cass just in time to see the smile spread across his face. 

“Nelly for short,” Quinn says, and this time Azriel smiles softly. 

“I love it,” Caspian says, looking up at his dad.

“I do too.” Cassian agrees. 

“Eleanor it is.” I smile. 

“Nelly for short,” Ezra grins. 

“Nelly for short,” I confirm. 

[ferret-not-microwave]

Les Amis Modern AU: What They Wish Others Believed About Them (Part 4)

[I kind of wrote this in response to some general trends in characterising the Amis. There are some stereotypes which I'm not quite comfortable with.]

[So much delay. Sorry.]

Joly:

• Really, really wishes that people don't laugh at him for his anxiety issues. He is truly terrified of getting infected with some disease or the other, and even more terrified of spreading it to Joly and Chetta. It doesn't help that he is one of the most sincere students of the lot, and spends a lot of time reading medical journals, which feed into his panic. He feels safe wearing masks, using rubbing alcohol (or wearing gloves), and having a bag full of basic first aid supplies, and gets embarrassed if anyone judges him for it. Also, he doesn't like it if "concerned" people ask him whether he had a past history of debilitating disease or something, he doesn't want to discuss it at all, okay? -_-

• When Joly fusses about illness in the Musain, it is him letting his guard down. He has to actively rein in his anxiety to function in the hospital, and gets super exhausted from hiding it. His tells in the hospital are are wide eyes behind his protective goggles and a compulsive toying with the wristband of his gloves. He's one of the most courageous individuals ever because of what he faces on a regular basis. He hopes that he might get some reassurance from the Amis to stop his spiralling thoughts, and he mostly gets it.

• Joly definitely has a wild side, and is more than his anxious, serious self. If there's one who can one-up Courf's cheesy pick-up lines, it is Joly. With a eyebrow quirk that leaves everyone giggly and blushing. If there's one who can set a Karaoke stage on fire (not literally, that would be R), it's Joly. If there's one who can down shots to match Bahorel, it's Joly. The one who is the most eager to go skinny dipping? Joly. The one who is, oddly, the most eager to break a pinata? Joly. Joly is more than a "quiet science nerd who checks his tongue in the mirror all the time".

• Joly and Ferre INSIST that they do not talk about random medical trivia all the time. Honestly, their shared interests involve Jane Austen and massive amounts of gossip with tea, along with Doctor Who, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF TEA, IN EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD.

• There are days he wants to tackle people like an angry Pikachu. But real life is tough, and not everyone has the privilege of confronting people. But he really, really can do without people casting aspersions on his poly relationship with Bossuet and 'Chetta ALL THE TIME. He has been confronted as an "opportunist" in Pride walks, faced with people's pitying look to Bossuet or 'Chetta as though he is stringing them both along or "sharing" 'Chetta with Bossuet, cheered on and slapped on the back by straight cismen for "knowing how to have fun", and once directly asked if he's the one who will marry 'Chetta. He goes into panic often, and for the longest time thought himself a really awful person.

• Beware a Joly in a farmer's market. Not because of haggling, but because some people ALWAYS assume that he's amazing at math while he actually fumbles at the cash counter. Similarly, he hates it if people crack shady jokes about him being a Marie Kondo around him (just because he likes neatness AND MARIE KONDO THANK YOU VERY MUCH). And no, he doesn't like rice all the time.

• Please give back the Tupperwares. Unlike popular opinion, Joly won't chase you down for his Tupperware like some do, and isn't particularly possessive about them. That doesn't mean that he can replace misplaced Tupperwares for all eternity, please. ;_; (Same goes for the beeswax food wraps and dino bandages, c'mon peeps don't help yourself to them indiscriminately ;_;).

• Apart from his baggy sweatshirt and dinosaur pajamas aesthetic, he also has a dress shirt and pleated pants collection that would probably leave Jay Gatsby jealous AF.

Bossuet:

• Is really self-conscious about his receding hairline. He had taken to shaving his head to make it look cool, because he's really uncomfortable with weird jokes about his age and baldness. Shaving heads is pretty high-maintenance at times, and he's slowly opening up to let the hair grow back on the sides of the head for the heck of it. He used to have a large collection of hats too, which he still uses occasionally, but now it is just a fashion accessory, not a way to hide. He likes scarves as well.

• He used to flinch and swallow his discomfort when people would touch his scalp without permission, now he firmly brushes off their hands with a light scowl.

• Similarly, he hates it when people actively try to compare him to Joly. He hates being considered less successful, a "third wheel" to Joly and 'Chetta and someone who can be taken less seriously. This doesn't mean he is jealous or angry with Joly at all though.

• He feels really, really angry when Joly sometimes breaks down in front of him and 'Chetta when confronted with comments on their relationship. He can and will stonewall anyone who hurts either of them.

• Bossuet understands Joly's anxiety because he faces anxiety as well. He often gets nightmares of his "bad luck" turning batshit Final-Destination-esque and resulting in horrible accidents to Joly, 'Chetta amd the rest of the Amis. He knows the "bad luck" jokes are good humouring, but it wears him down a lot in exam/interview/work meeting weeks and leaves him third and fourth guessing himself. He had also entered a bout of depression because the "bad luck" jokes had convinced himself that he can't progress in life because what's the use. It took a lot of work and, oddly, a super niche article from the Amis blog detailing research on how some societies actively ostracize people for being "unlucky" and how it is linked to major societal oppression, to help him.

• Bossuet loves having a heart of gold. Sometimes some people tell him not to be so nice ("what if that person has cheated you off money with a sob story?"). He refuses, because he cherishes being nice and knows his limits. He sometimes worries if he's being stupid, like when the great "attendance-by-proxy" disaster happens. But Marius' broad and grateful smile, "hi, how are you doing?" texts every morning, and monthly batch of AMAZING chocolate cookies makes it worth it.

• Bossuet's accidents do lead to some happy accidents. He stumbled on a whole new recipe of gooey brownies by accident. An amazing combination of dark chocolate and red chilli peppers (maybe not so weird in retrospect)? By accident. He fell upon Courfe's sandcastle once, but it resulted in a rare hermit crab crawling out. Courfe gave a treat at the new brunch place he was saving up for, because apparently that hermit crab had made Ferre all starry-eyed and happier than he had been in weeks. And as for the rest pf the accidents? Nothing that duct tape , 'Chetta, Joly and occasionally Feuilly can't help with. In all, his accidents are always smallish, and never monumental.

• Bossuet can put 'Chetta and Ferre to shame with his eyebrow raising (at least occasionally? Hehe?). He does that a lot when people ask him if he has put water on fire or has fallen into wells. "Like bruh? I don't go anywhere close to wells, I love sidewalks and what's with everyone asking me about the kitchen being on fire?" He also does that a lot to piners (R, Ep, Courfe, 'Parnasse).

• Bossuet is one of Enj's closest friends in Law School (apart from Courfe), because Law classes and shared optional papers. Duh. They often have long discussions which are super pleasant, fluffy, yet sensible because of his really sensitive optimism. Bossuet's unorthodox insights make their way into Enj's notes for ABC meetings, and he credits him always. Similarly Enj bails him out with attendance issues. Bossuet often calmly advices him about R. Since Joly has a similar relationship with Ferre, Bossuet and Joly sometimes help Enj and Ferre sort out lingering grievances between them, or plain hear them out. Enj and Bossuet have Froyo days.

Musichetta:

• Loves, loves, LOVES books. Has no idea why people think nerds come in a kind of stereotype only ("I don't look like you", she complains to Joly and Ferre one day, "but I can defeat you two in a Jane Austen quiz WTF!" They agree emphatically, and Ferre adds "and maybe Jehan too. Maybe".). She is a massive sucker for Comic-Cons and hates men who try to prove otherwise. -_- She loves libraries as much as she loves bars.

• Has no idea why people think she's super bitchy or about to eat them up. Many people plain run when she so much as looks at them while doing a shift as a barista in the Musain. Or ask for "the nicer barista" (Cosette?). When she breathes a sigh of relief when someone treats her nice, she also braces herself for self-righteous "saviours". "Are you sure you are doing okay with those men?" "They are using you!". If she poured milk all over a client's trousers because of such a comment not-so-accidentally, no one needs to know. ;)

• Sometimes, she feels drained out. Having to support both her partners anxiety can leave her down too. They are amazing people, who love her a lot, and know that she needs her recharge time. Often Bossuet takes over in caring for Joly and vice-versa. 'Chetta has a small arrangement with Courfe on those days. If he has free time, the two of them go for an amazing, super relaxing spa session. Bahorel is back-up spa partner. The two of them know not to ask questions, but let her unwind her thoughts and air them out.

• 'Chetta joined Les Amis L'ABC much later. One of her pet peeves were when Joly or Bossuet would go to protests which could easily turn violent because of right wing trolls and the police swarming the city. Specifically, when they went without more than a word or two to her. She would get worried sick, particularly if they couldn't pick up the phone within half an hour of the protest ending, and would cry alone because she didn't want to come off as needy and one of those people who do not support their cause.

• She finally broke down before them after Bossuet had a small concussion. They were really shamefaced at having not thought about her feelings, and their apologies ran for hours. While Joly promised to regularly give her updates, Bossuet asked her to join the ABC if she is comfortable with it. It took time for her to accept that she was being in the group because of the cause and not because she wanted to helicopter-mom Joly and Bossuet, but when the next protest happened, she realised that she was in a place she always wanted to be in.

• The Amis thought that she was a member anyway. She would holler at

• 'Chetta hates it when people think that it's Joly or Bossuet who end up lavishing gifts on her all the time. True, they do, but she does it too. She's a sucker for thoughtful gift giving, and she spoils the Amis A LOT OF TIMES. She can scour the Earth for ideal gifts for her boys, and she often takes care of a stray bill or two, as much as she humanely can. She doesn't play a one-upping battle of gifts though, she just loves a lot.

• She is really self conscious about her small hands and tiny feet. Which seem to her too small in comparison with the rest of her body. Sometimes she used to wear really fluffy mittens in winter to hide how small her hands her. Not so much now. :)

•She confided to Jehan that she didn't like people romanticizing her small hands and feet because she thought they were putting unrealistic standards of the "frail beauty" on her when she was anything but. She said this after she heard R chortle about how Joly had introduced her as having tiny hands and feet. The discussion ended in her gaping and then crying out of laughter because (according to Jehan) apparently Joly was really drunk when he first talked to the Amis about her, and had also said something like "she has fortune-teller eyes, yannow! Ask Bossuet! And her dimples! Marius, you booby, you pool noodle, I know how you feel like when you met Cosette!"

Apparently Bahorel had replied with "you need new pants" and then started laughing like no tomorrow. Bossuet, not so drunk (because he was late to the party), had taken the sensible route and shown the Amis the picture the three of them took after their first date.

• Seriously, she knows zilch about tarot cards or natal charts.

[floral-and-fine]

Stitched Together part 1

The creature/Adam x fem reader

Frankenstein AU/ Modern Frankenstein

Warnings: brief mention of suicide, death, and body horror (a little)

Summary: The reader is a mortician and a friend of Victor Frankenstein. After receiving a strange message from Victor, the reader finds herself with a lot of unanswered questions and a new roommate.

A/n: Yay! I wrote something! Sorry I didn’t finish the drawing, but I’m satisfied with it, mostly, lol. Anyways, I’m pretty excited about this story. Enjoy!

Tags: @rusticup​ @luna-xial​

This was insane, in fact, it was by far the craziest stupidest thing you had ever done in your life, but here you were standing out in the rain, in the middle of the night, with no flashlight trying to pick a lock. 

Yes, technically you were breaking and entering, but you had to know if Victor was alright. Rationally, you probably should’ve called the cops, but you weren’t exactly thinking rationally right now. For all you knew, he could be laying on the floor, clinging to life somewhere in his lab. 

God, you were going to feel like an idiot if everything was fine and you were just overreacting.

You blinked in surprise when you heard the lock finally clicked. 

Pushing the door open, you gasped as you entered Victor’s lab, immediately upon entry you were assaulted by a foul stench. Using your shirt, you covered your nose and mouth. 

It was too dark to make out anything, except for the occasional flash of lightning that lit up the room for a brief second. 

“Victor?” You called, feeling along the wall until you found a light switch. However, after flipping the switch nothing happened. 

“Damn,” you muttered under your breath. With shaky hands, you reached into your pocket taking out your cell phone. 

The small light didn’t reach far, only illuminating a couple of feet in front of you, but at least you could see a little.

His ‘lab’ was an old warehouse he was renting. Why he needed such a large space was beyond you. Victor was very secretive of what he was working on, deflecting your concern with vague answers. Very few people were even aware that he was renting this place to use for his experiments. 

With your small light, you scanned the area nearest to you. 

The warehouse was an utter disaster. There were notes with anatomical drawings littered everywhere, furniture tipped over, and broken shards of glass scattered on the ground. 

From the state of his lab, you could safely assume it had been abandoned. It appeared as if Victor left in a hurry, or as if it had been ransacked. 

Neither option gave you much comfort and just brought you more worries. This warehouse, those drawings, all the notes were Victor’s life work, and his work meant everything to him. 

From the moment you met him, all he seemed to care about were his studies. He spent all his time here, rarely slept, and only left for absolute necessities. He even lost the lease on his apartment, so he could continue to afford the rent for the warehouse. 

“What the hell happened?” You whispered to yourself. What had Victor been up to? Why did he disappear? Where was he now?

...

Victor had become an acquaintance of yours through a mutual friend. 

You were a local mortician who lived near the university your friend was attending. You often mingled with various professors and graduate students, because of it. 

Victor had been part of a graduate program to become a doctor before he dropped out. Amongst his colleagues, Victor was known for his peculiar curiosity of death. Upon discovering your friend’s relationship to you. 

Victor practically demanded him to arrange a meeting between the two of you. 

You were able to answer most of his questions, having more expertise on the subject than his peers. At first, his questions seemed innocent enough, but as you continued to get to know Victor the more strange and morbid his questions had become. 

You chalked it up to his youth and his ambition to learn. Not to mention, at the time, you didn’t really question his odd fascination with the subject. 

In all honesty, you almost welcomed his straightforwardness and his interest in your work. So many of the people you met always skated around the subject of your job, or visibly cringed anytime you mentioned the morgue. It was very refreshing to be able to talk about your day without having to worry or freaking someone out.

In a short time, you became friends with Victor. You checked in on him frequently, dropped groceries off at his place hoping he’d take a break and eat something, but 

Then suddenly he fell off the face of the planet. He stopped visiting the morgue. He didn’t return any of your calls. Weeks passed before you received a rather cryptic voicemail from Victor. 

What he said in the message didn’t make a lick of sense, he just rambled on and on about how he had finally figured it all out, that it had to be done tonight, and that it was all thanks to you. 

You had tried calling him back several times but each time it went straight to voicemail. 

...

Letting out a long sigh, you hoped you would find the answers to all your questions. 

Steadily you took a few steps forward, and slowly moved the light your phone provided, scanning your surroundings. You frowned as you stepped in something wet, the squelching sound underneath your foot was rather unpleasant. 

Looking down, you covered your mouth and stumbled backwards. Dropping your phone in the process. 

“Oh God!” On the floor was a pile of discarded limbs in a pool of blood. “What the hell did he do?”

You noticed a familiar tag hanging off of a toe in the pile.

“He didn’t,” you thought out loud. “He wouldn’t...”

You shook your head and closed your eyes tightly. He used you, he got close to you so he could learn about the morgue. God, how did you not realize it? 

A few weeks before, around the same time Victor seemed to disappear, several bodies were taken from your morgue. You reported the break in when you arrived to work the morning after. You couldn’t imagine why anyone would steal bodies. 

Feeling an overwhelming mixture of disgust, betrayal, and stupidity, all you wanted now was to leave this nightmare and report your findings to the police. 

Grimacing, you bent down to pick up your phone wiping the screen off with your sleeve.

Lightning flashed, and suddenly, you heard a loud crash, as if someone had bumped into something metallic knocking it to the floor. Your head whipped around to the direction of the sound, “Hello?”

The silence that followed was somehow quieter than before. You stared out at the vast darkness, waiting for a reply. 

“Victor?” You called, rising to stand. “Anyone there?”

Once again there was only silence. You used the light from your phone as you proceeded to search. 

Your brow furrowed as you discovered various machines you didn’t recognize. They were large, with all sorts of wires, cords, and coils. In the center, was a surgical table covered in blood. 

As you studied the scene before you, from the corner of your eye, you saw movement. Without thinking you pursued whatever it was. 

You managed to corner it, watching as the creature withdrew into the darkness, cowering on the floor.

You shined your light on the shadows to reveal a man huddled in the corner. His legs were pulled up to his chest, his arms curled over his head. 

As you got closer, the man curled further into himself even more, shrinking down as far as he could. He flinched back, shielding his eyes from the light.

“Oh, sorry,” you murmured, lowering your phone. “Is that better?”

Slowly, he moved his arms down. His yellow eyes watched you cautiously, but he gave you no indication as to whether he understood anything you were saying. 

Crouching down to his level, you noticed that he was completely nude. Long strands of greasy black hair hung in front of his face. His skin was pale and sickly looking.

You wrinkled your nose as you noticed the stitches all around his wrists, then the ones on his forearms, shoulders, neck, knees...

Slowly reaching out, your fingertips lightly brushed against his arm, feeling along the stitching. Upon further inspection his skin appeared thin like paper, and almost transparent with a bilious yellow tint to it. Underneath, you could make out clearly, blue and green veins all over his body. 

Your teeth clenched and your stomach dropped, as you started to realize what Victor had accomplished. 

This poor man and those poor people he used for his experiment, they were all victims of the careless ambition of Victor Frankenstein, a foolish boy trying to play God. 

The creature trembled under your lingering touch like a scared rabbit.

“Are you cold?” You asked him, without thinking you stood up faster than the creature cared for, who flinched and shrunk away again due to the sudden movement. 

“It’s alright,” you cooed, reassuring him as you would a scared child. You made a conscious effort to make your movements slow and fluid as you searched for something he could cover up with. 

You spotted a thin white blanket on a cot that was in the corner. You figured Victor was probably sleeping here after he lost his apartment. 

Returning to the creature, you slowly knelt down once more and offered him the blanket, but he remained still. It was unnerving how he kept staring at you, but you doubted he meant you any harm. The poor thing was simply so frightened that you couldn’t hold it against him for being so wary. 

“Here,” you murmured as you gently placed it around him. “Isn’t that better?” 

You smiled, as he clutched the edges of the blanket and wrapped it around himself tighter. 

Slower than last time, you stood up again. “I’m y/n,” you introduced yourself offering him your hand. “Would you like to leave this place with me?”

This was crazy, but you didn’t know what else to do. You couldn’t just leave him here alone, he had already been abandoned once in this dark cold warehouse by his negligent creator. You couldn’t do that to him, he seemed so helpless. 

Shyly, he accepted your hand and rose to his feet.

Looking up at him you couldn’t help but gawk. The man towered over you. He didn’t appear to be so large when he was cowering in the corner. 

“We’re going to my house, okay?” You shared with him giving his hand a light squeeze. Still holding his hand, you led the way out and back to your car. He moved awkwardly and walked with a slight limp, so walked at a casual pace. 

Reaching your car, you adjusted the passenger side seat moving it back, to make more leg room so he could sit comfortably.  Helping him into the car, you buckled him in. 

You didn’t say much on the drive. It all seemed so surreal, like you had been dreaming. Even when you arrived home and he followed inside it still didn’t seem real. 

“Home sweet home,” you chirped, opening the front door and turning on the lights. You guided him inside and kicked off your shoes . 

Finally, seeing him under some better lighting, you realized how dirty he was. He was covered in all over with some kind of filth, mostly dirt and blood you assumed, but you couldn’t be sure. 

“You need a bath,” you announced. Walking into the bathroom, you turned on the faucet, allowing the water to warm up before putting in the stopper. 

Once the tub was full, you guided your guest into the bathroom. Gently, you took the blanket from him and discarded it on the floor. 

“Get in,” you gestured to the bath. “It’ll be alright. We just need to get you cleaned up.”

He hesitated for a moment before stepping in and slowly sinking down. He held the sides of the porcelain tub with a tight grip, as if he were to slip he’d drown in this shallow tub. 

You couldn’t help but giggle over how endearing he acted. Getting on your knees next to the tub, you gently started to wipe off the dried blood on his face with a washcloth. 

Despite the discoloration of his skin and the unnerving yellow of his eyes, he was handsome. He had a strong jawline, pouty lips, high cheekbones… you shook your head when you noticed you had been staring, not that he seemed to mind. 

His own eyes were busy moving, looking at everything, taking in all of his new surroundings. It was kind of cute how awfully skittish he was for such a large person. 

You couldn’t imagine what he was going through, or even what was going through his mind. As much as you hated Victor after discovering what he had done, you were still aware that this man was just the product of it, not the cause. He didn’t ask for any of this. 

As you began to wash his arms and chest, that’s when you noticed a familiar scar on his wrist. One of the bodies Victor had stolen was of a young man who had taken his own life. 

It always broke your heart when you had cases like that, not that your job was a happy one and that you didn’t care for the other people who ended up in your care. It was just that you often wondered what sort of pain were they feeling that ending their own life was a better solution. 

You recognized a few more familiar body parts, but what rattled you was how the creature’s face and a few of his other limbs weren’t familiar at all. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to figure out where else Victor could have gathered parts for his experiment. They would’ve needed to have passed away recently, they were probably taken from a nearby location...

You shook your head, none of that mattered right now. The only thing you should be worrying about is this strange man, who was sitting in your tub patiently waiting for you to finish.

Once he was clean, you helped him out of the tub allowing him to lean on you for support so he wouldn't slip on the tile floor. He seemed to still be figuring out how to move correctly, as he kind of moved in a disjointed fashion. 

Grabbing a couple of towels, you wrapped one around his waist, and then led him to your living room and had him sit on the couch. With the other towel, you leaned in front of him and dried his hair, arms, and chest. 

He tilted his head to the side as you dried his face, his eyes focusing on you. Unexpectedly, he caressed your cheek, you lowered the towel and smiled at him. 

“I’ll be right back,” you told him, before getting up and  heading into your bedroom. 

Digging around your closet you tried your best to find anything that would fit him. Sadly, the best you could do for now was letting him borrow your bathrobe. You laid it on your bed, so you could change into something more comfortable. 

Stepping out of your room, your heart almost jumped out of your chest, as you came face to face with your guest, who was waiting patiently outside of your door. 

“Sorry that took so long,” you laughed, recovering from the slight scare. “I found this for you to wear for now. Tomorrow, I’ll try to figure out how to get you some actual clothes.” 

You covered your mouth hiding your smile. The poor dear looked ridiculous. The silk robe barely reached above his knee and the sleeves ended at his elbows, but at least his private bits were covered. 

Now that he was clean and dressed, you wondered what else he needed. Was he hungry? thirsty? Was he bored? 

“Do you need anything?” You asked, knowing there was a good chance you wouldn’t get any kind of response. He simply just looked down at you. 

You bit your lip, as the two of you just sat there in silence, side by side, on the couch. Hopefully, he’ll learn to talk or perhaps find another way to communicate with you. You weren’t sure how long you would be able to care for him if not. 

“Well, I’m feeling a little hungry, so I’m going to get us a snack,” you explained standing up.

He watched your movement and then followed you to the kitchen, similar to what he did earlier when he was waiting outside your bedroom. The creature stood outside of the kitchen and watched as you prepared a couple of cups of tea and grabbed a pack of cookies for the two of you to share. 

You felt a dull ache in your chest as you realized that him following you around, was probably out of fear, scared that you were going to leave him.  

Gently, you placed your hand on his arm and tried to comfort him, “I promise, I’m not going to leave you.”

Carrying your snacks into the living room, you turned on the TV, putting on one of your favorite movies and started eating. The creature sat next to you, and watched carefully as you took a few sips of tea. 

He didn’t seem all that interested in any of the cookies even after you offered him one, but he did pick up his cup and repeated what you had done, including blowing on it before taking a sip. 

You tried to focus your attention on the movie, instead of worrying about the crazy day you just had. This was usually your way of unwinding, having a warm cup of tea and watching a little TV before bed. But your eyes kept wandering over to the creature. 

You frowned at yourself, referring to him as the creature was wrong, even if it was just in your head and not out loud. The poor guy needed a real name.

Resting your chin on your hand, you mulled over different options, making an imaginary list of names, and trying to decide which one suited him best. 

Lost in thought, you were surprised when he suddenly yawned, in fact the action seemed to startle him too. He looked over at you wide eyed, causing you to laugh lightly. He probably hasn’t slept since being created.

“C’mon,” you started, getting off of the couch and taking his hand. “It’s time for bed.” 

You led him into your room. “Here,” you said, pulling back the comforter on your bed. “You can sleep here for tonight.” 

He climbed into the bed, his feet hanging off of the edge. Despite his size, you couldn’t get over how small he acted, how timid and afraid. 

You brushed a few strands of hair away from his face, and caressed his cheek, “Good night, Adam.” You smiled, glad you finally picked a name for him. 

As you started to walk away, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. Adam looked up at you with pleading eyes. 

He didn’t have to say anything for you to figure out what he wanted, since meeting him it seemed that all he wanted was not to be alone again. 

“Oh, alright,” you relented, approaching the bed. “But just for tonight.”

Adam shuffled to the other side making room for you. You crawled into the bed, and turned off the light on the nightstand. 

Laying down, you realized how exhausted you actually were. Before passing out, you felt Adam’s hand finding yours, his fingers curling around it and holding it gently as you fell asleep.

[mrpenguinpants]

Oh! Sorry for the late reply, but it’s not canon lore, haha. Part of me hopes it kinda was just to give Keqing a bit more introspection but alas, Mihoyo has tens of different characters to make so it’s understandable. I thought of it as a modern au type of thing where Keqing ends up moving in a apartment complex only to be greeted with men she has to babysit as the price JHDJSHDJSJ– It’s a fun little idea, and at first, she hates them all but eventually, walking outside of her place for a free meal becomes an escape of sorts. Ningguang, her dreaded co-worker, makes sure she doesn’t hear the end of it and is like “Please, you’re almost 27 nowz. Get yourself a man already, you have quite the options.”

Also, congrats on getting Xiao! I haven’t gotten him yet but at the end of his banner, I think I can make around 20 rolls so here’s hoping he’ll come with those!

No worries at all, I take FOREVER to reply to anyone. Plus this week was midterms so I’m still recovering from that if you’re wondering why I’ve been so silent. Ahh I see, I still need to read Keqing’s lore but until then 👀 I am fully invested in this. We’ll make a 180k word slow burn fic together. Honestly, I really want to write some Chongyun, Xingqiu, Xinyan, and Xiao interactions. My brainworm mind wants Xingqiu to be the biggest little shit and tells Chongyun that there’s a demon that needs to be exorcised at Wangshu inn. Turns out it’s Xiao but Chongyun being the trusting friend that he is, doesn’t believe Xingqiu would lie to me and fully believes Xiao is a demon. Xiao doesn’t know how to socialize and he doesn’t know how to handle interactions so it’s this entire goose chase. Xinyan comes along because she’s always wanted to see a demon. I can imagine her yelling “DEMON! COME OUT YOU COWARD!” while Xiao is gripping onto the roof beam above them for dear life so he doesn’t get found out. 

Ahh, I get that mihoyo wants to bust out new content but it also makes me sad that it will probably be awhile before we get Part 2 to anything. But oh well, I guess we can always make stuff up for part 2′s before Mihoyo proceeds to shred them apart haha. I love modern au, where everything is fine and happy and no one dies. Especially now since we’re all in self-isolation. It’s not much but being able to write is actually kinda therapeutic. Speaking of which, it’s valentines day today. I almost forgot because well, I’m asexual so no relationships for me, so I kinda forgot feb 14 had any importance haha. But hopefully you all that have partners stay safe if you plan on spending today together and for us single folk, hang out with friends^^ I’m having a movie/game night with everyone and I’m pretty excited. 

---

But getting back on track. I love roommate schneegans. When I first read this with my sleep deprived brain, I thought you meant that she had to live with the same people she had to babysit when they were children. That’d be so awkward but funny haha. I can imagine Childe being such a wholesome kid like Teucer that when Keqing meets him again when he’s an adult she’s so sad. You were such a cute kid, where did things go wrong? This also applies to Diluc (RIP DILUC MAN) and Kaeya. 

Diluc is so socially constipated that he acts rude af because he doesn’t know how to socialize. Reminds me of the type of guy that is thinking of cute puppies but as the scariest resting bitch face. The amount of emotional range he has makes Keqing wonder if he’s secretly planning on burning the apartment complex down to the ground or if he’s slept in the past week. He hasn’t. Man is crumbling so he’s gonna make the world crumble down with him in his woe is me bullshit (jk I love you Diluc). Keqing makes the customary “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m your new neighbor” but Diluc is actually running on fumes (he’s filter feeding at his point) that he looks so scary that Keqing almost runs away. Then the next day she sees him exit his home and he cleaned up so well that Keqing doesn’t recognize him. Assumed that Diluc lived with a brother that was in dire help. So she always offers him weird pick me up items and Diluc doesn’t know how to handle gifts so he just accepts them. He doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about since he lives alone but he assumes she’s some random cat lady. 

Kaeya is such an ass. Like actually awful. Was the kind of guy to pull the fire alarm just to get out of class for the day. Probably does it in the apartment just to mess with Diluc, which inheritably messes with Keqing very fragile beauty sleep, but he always manages to escape with a slap on the wrist. Keqing has lost so much faith in the justice system after that. He seemed like such a nice guy, well in comparison to her first meetings with Diluc, until he found out she had a fear of frogs and proceeded to mail her a package of them. She’s been haunted by nightmares of waking up to one on her face and she’s wondering if she can get away with setting his home on fire and getting away the same way he does from pulling the fire alarm. It seems like poetic irony but as soon as she thinks this Kaeya is messaging her “don’t do it”. She doesn’t know how he got her phone number and she’s not going to find out. 

Zhongli was the guy she went to highschool with where she had the fattest crush on. He still looks the exact same just taller and she can feel her inner agony seeping up when she spots him. Then proceeds to internally wail when they both enter the elevator and they live on the same floor. She’s internally begging and pleading that Zhongli doesn’t recognize her, but of fucking course he does and he remembers every little detail. The most deadpan face as he asks her if she still has the zhongli pin that some crazy club made for the student council they were both apart of. What pisses her off the most is that he’s actually genuinely curious and isn’t trying to make a stab at her. She hates him with every fiber of her being. 

Childe seemed like such a cute kid (I fully believe he’s younger than Keqing, you cannot take this away from my cold dead heads) and he mentioned how he was moving away from his family but he misses his cute little sisters and brothers. Keqing felt so much wholesome love in her body until Childe mistaken her as being younger than him and messed up her hair. She almost screamed bloody murder but made the quick correction that she was in fact, much older than him. Which was the wrong fucking move because he became the biggest little shit. Kept calling her old with weak bones, “when are you going to fossilize?” that she’s sure if there wasn’t a law against second degree murder, she would do it right then and there. 

---

I totally went off on a tangent right there haha. But yeah, I can imagine them all going to each other places for free meals and it’s actually some wholesome stuff. Kaeya and Diluc relive their childhood brother antics, Childe comes from a big family so he doesn’t get sad when he eats alone, Keqing gets to take a break and turn her brain off from work, and Zhongli is just happy to spend time with others after being in self-isolation and losing his wife (Jesus, reading this back I am so sorry Guizhong and Zhongli. This got so depressing holy shit). 

“Please, you’re almost 27 nowz. Get yourself a man already, you have quite the options.” LOL I LOVE THAT SENTENCE HAHA. But ty^^ I’m so glad he came home with diluc. I BELIEVE IN YOU!! YOU’RE GONNA GET HIM. BRING YOUR MAN HOME!! I kinda wanna write some roommate hcs in my brainworm style. I’m going to go write that. Hang on. I’ll be back. 

---

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! Love from me 💕💕💕 

[enkelimagnus]

A Castle in the Forest

Percy x Vex’ahlia, Chapter 11, 2942 words,

A Modern AU, in which Vex is a park ranger taking over the Alabaster Sierras post, and finds much more than she bargained for.

Read on AO3

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

Vex had succeeded in evading Vax’s questions about the bow.

She hadn’t really given him the option to speak at all. After resting for the night, her exhaustion had melted away and left all the space for anger. She’d driven out on her truck, not on the motorcycle, but that was only because the bike wouldn’t go on the snow very well. She’d just wanted to get to one of the temples fast.

They let her walk right into a fucking trap. They hid this from her and she could have died. There is going to be a scar on her shoulder, even with the healing she’s received. She wants to scream at all of them.

What if she’s not the first one to get hit by whatever the fuck the fiend is capable of doing? What if there are bodies literring that castle, bodies of innocent people who walked in on a fiend and died because no one fucking warned them?

Her rage carries her through the whole drive, until she stops in a furious screech of tires not far from the temple and basically runs to it. It carries her as she slams her whole body into the door and it bursts open. She doesn’t care about the bruises she’ll have after this.

She’s lucky, she guesses. They’re all there. Pike, and Grog, both priests and Cassandra. Somehow, the latter’s presence is no surprise. They were acting a little weird about everything, after all.

“What the fuck is up with the thing in the castle and why did none of you bother telling me about it?” Vex roars.

She can feel her hands shaking as she balls them into fists, trying to canalize her anger at least somewhat. She’s a professional, she can’t go and yell the heads off of clergy. Or maybe she can. Maybe she needs to, right now, because they let her walk into an incredibly dangerous situation.

Grog is still holding up his axe. He doesn't look specifically aggressive but she knows he’s ready to defend his friends against her if necessary. She appreciates that, even in this situation.

“You saw him?” Cassandra asks, standing up. “Does he… look alright?”

Vex blinks.

She wasn’t expecting this. Cassandra seems concerned, but more about the thing than about the fact Vex was in close contact with it and could have died.

“He’s a smoking fiend in the shape of a humanoid and I don’t know what kind of shit he packs but it made a hole in my shoulder. A big one!” Vex snaps back. “That doesn’t sound alright to me.”

Cassandra’s face hardens in as neutral of a face as Vex has ever seen. Pike reaches for them, gently putting a hand on their arm, beckoning them to sit back down.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Pike says quietly. “Do you need more healing?”

Vex shakes her head. “No. I have a couple of Healing Spells, and my brother gave me a potion. I’m fine.”

She’s mad that they’re showing concern, when they should have told her this was a threat. Pike and Grog make it all worse. They knew, when they took down the Barbed Devil, that it wasn’t the fiend Vex had sensed. And yet, they let her be fooled, let her believe that she’d done her job correctly.

“Lady Vex’ahlia, I think you should sit down,” Father Reynal says then, with his serene priest façade that Vex wants to smash through right now.

Grog gets up to bring another chair and they all stare at her until she moves and sits down at the table. They all settle back down.

There’s a large file on the table, closed and title-less. Vex raises an eyebrow. Father Reynal takes it and pulls it off of the table, away from her prying eyes and wandering hands. Smart of him. Suspicious too. Vex is on high alert and everything right now is a threat.

“I’m not a lady,” she mutters.

“I know,” Father Reynal nods. “But I’m being polite.”

Vex rolls her eyes. “Cut to the chase. What the fuck is going on here? What is that thing and why didn’t you tell me?”

They all settle back in their seats, all tense, all very unwilling to talk. Vex isn’t budging until she’s given answers though. She’ll camp here and harass them until they crack. She doesn’t give a fuck how long it takes.

“We didn’t tell you,” Keeper Yennen starts. “Because there was no reason for you to know. The fiend cannot walk out of the castle, the trail had been condemned by our work, and the secret tunnel was… well, secret.”

Vex sighs slightly. “Until Keyleth told me about it.”

“Our dear Keyleth is not skilled in the art of deception,” Father Reynal adds then. “We should have expected this would happen. But we couldn’t take you into account when all of this started. Your predecessor, Ranger Regae was not… exactly zealous. He was either oblivious to what was happening or didn’t care enough to stop it. All the contrary to you, my lady.”

“Not a lady,” Vex repeats. “Please stop calling me one.”

They nod as well. “Apologies,” they mutter. “Now. As for your other questions…”

Cassandra bristles. “His name is Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III,” they rattle off without even blinking. “Depending on which succession law you follow, he’s either Lord of Whitestone, or just my brother, in which case I am Lady of Whitestone.”

Vex takes a second to take in all of what she’s just been told. The De Rolos are not all dead. At least two remain. She’s staring at one of them, and the other is the thing in the castle. And they’re all covering it up.

“What happened? Because that’s not a person in there anymore,” Vex points out. Cassandra flinches at that.

Well… The eyes flashing to blue and the humanoid voice could belong to a person. The part that had yelled her to run… that could be a person.

“We don’t know exactly,” Cassandra continues, despite her flinching and obvious uncomfort. “We know that he’s been possessed by a fiend. Which I’m guessing you sensed and came in contact with.”

“Do you know how he came in contact with the fiend? What kind of fiend it is?” Vex crosses her arms.

“He.. came back to Whitestone with the fiend already with him. I haven’t been able to get more details from him.”

Every time Cassandra or anyone else says something, it just adds more questions to Vex’s plate. Where was he before coming back? Why had he left in the first place?

“As for the kind,” Father Reynal interjects. “I haven’t gotten to see it up close since he became possessed by it the way he is now, but from Keyleth’s description, it seems like a demonic creature. Perhaps a shadow demon of some kind.”

Shadow demons are more difficult to take down than barbed devils, but they’re not… impossible. Between Keyleth, Pike, Grog and the others, they should have been able to take it down a long time ago… Though it isn’t just a fiend. It’s also Cassandra’s brother. That changes things, she guesses, for all of them. There’s a person trapped in there, the one that made it so Vex could get away.

That’s the thing with possession. There’s always someone else than the creature involved in it.

Vex sighs heavily, putting her hands over her face. “You haven’t told any sort of authority, I’m guessing?” She asks.

“They’ll just… kill him to take out the creature,” Pike points out. “None of us want that to happen. We want him safe. As safe as possible.”

“Or they’ll fuck up the barrier we put up and he’ll be free to roam and probably kill more,” Keeper Yennen adds. “That’s another one of our concerns, and one of the reasons we didn’t tell you. We’re aware rangers have some spellcasting abilities and we did not want to risk you messing with the barrier.”

Vex huffs. “Well, I can’t promise I didn’t do anything but I don’t think my encounter with it fucked up your spell.”

They all fall quiet then. As she looks around the table at these people, these people of faith, of knowledge, of ability, it suddenly dawns on her the mess she’s gotten into. There’s a nobleman possessed by a fiend, with a weapon from the nine hells that shoots holes into people. They’ve been dealing with it for who knows how long, and they’re not getting anywhere. They seem at a standstill.

It’s all terrible. She should run away now. Grab Vax, pack her bags, and never come back to Whitestone again.

She’s not going to succeed at her job here, not when the fiend in the castle is much stronger than she is, not when there are people who won’t let her deal with it quickly and efficiently because it would mean murdering someone. Not that she would murder someone to do her job, but… it’s just another thing to think about.

She should give up and leave.

But where can she go? She can’t go back to Syngorn. Syldor’s made it incredibly clear in the letter she read yesterday. It was only yesterday but it feels like weeks. The emotional distress and the encounter with the fiend, or Percival de Rolo… It all seems so far away.

So she has to stay, and she has to deal with this somewhat. Because there’s no way she can go back to her life when she knows about the thing in the castle. No way. She’s too… stubborn.

“I have many questions,” Vex starts after a moment. “And I want you to answer them to the best of your abilities. If you want me to help in this matter, you’re going to have to be straightforward with me. Honest. If I catch you in a lie, you’re fucked.”

She doesn’t really think she’ll tell any authority about this, but she is going to use every bit of power she has to get her way and get the answers she’s desperate to have.

“Fine,” Cassandra nods. “I think that works with us.”

Vex doesn’t reply that they don’t have a choice anyway. She’s not that big of a dick.

“My very first question,” she moves forward. “How did you know my last name?” She stares at Father Reynal, with his chestnut eyes.

He sighs heavily and takes out the folder that had been on the table when she came in. He slides it over the table towards her and she takes it, and opens it.

Everything. They have everything. They have her grades and report cards from the schools she attended in Syngorn, from the noble general educations to the specialized ones, to the ones from her training with the TWC. Things on Vax as well. And then the Shademurk. Reports on the fire, a copy of the report she wrote for the TWC about what happened. Pictures of her and Saundor at the official parties he dragged her to, both because she was the ranger attached to the Shademurk, but also because she was his trophy, and he wanted to show her off.

She remembers the specific day this photo was taken on. She remembers the pretty green silk dress with the completely open back, almost the exact color of his skin. He’d insisted she made her hair in a way that uncovered her ears. He’d made a braid of vines that wrapped around her neck in a necklace. He’d called her perfect. She’d been the only non-fey in attendance, and all eyes had been on her, and on him, because he’d brought her.

She’s smiling in the photo in front of her. It was taken when she was already tipsy on sweet and heady fey wines. That was why she was smiling so much. The evening hadn’t been pleasant. Some sort of anniversary of something where she’d obviously been there for people to stare at, for Saundor to have. He had not let her move out of his side all evening, arm wrapped around her waist, hard as stone, unmovable. Possessive. She’d already known better than to try and break his hold on her, it had been months after she’d realized he was much, much stronger than her. When he decided to hold her, there was no getting out.

She slams the folder shut when it gets to more details about the fire.

Her hands are shaking when she looks up at the priest in front of her.

“Why?” She asks. Her voice is weak. It’s shaking, it’s ugly.

“We had to know who you were, who had replaced Regae. If you’d be a threat for us and Percival,” Father Reynal explains. “I’m sorry.”

He’s not. It’s obvious he’s not. Vex gets it, but it doesn’t qualm her anger and betrayal. She grabs the file in her hands. “I’m keeping this.”

None of them deny her that. Good. She would have exploded if they did.

Her mind is swimming. The pictures of those nights in the Feywild, the reports on the fire and her escape, the fiend, the trapped noble, her father’s hatred of her, these people… all of it was too much. She needs a fucking break. But they won’t let her have one.

“I need to go for a moment,” she says. This time her voice is steadier, and she’s so incredibly glad.

“You have some decisions to make,” Keeper Yennen nods.

Vex stands up. She’s not as shaky as she expected she would be. “I’ll be telling my brother all of this. You’ve involved him.” She points at the file. “Non negotiable.”

Cassandra looks a little uncomfortable at that but says nothing. Good. She’s getting Vex to help in saving her brother, Vex is involving hers.

This is too much to deal with alone, anyway. She needs Vax by her side with this. Despite everything, she needs his presence, she needs him. They’re both unsteady and neither of them are the rocks the other needs, really. But they’ve got each other and that’s at least something. It would be horrible if they couldn’t have each other.

She walks out of the temple with barely a word. She can’t do the goodbyes and everything else right now. She can’t pretend her mind isn’t full of questions and fears and anger. She needs to take time with all of this.

It’s hard. A part of her feels for Cassandra, and even the rest of them. She can understand why they did what they did, why they hid it from her, from the world. But she’s still so deeply angry about all of it.

And the file just made it so fucking worse. It’s all there, all the things she wishes to forget, all the things she prayed there were no traces of. She hoped the fire of Shademurk destroyed all evidence of her presence there, of the months spent in Saundor’s thrall.

Just like the memories and the scars she bears, just like the bow under her bed, it’s not going to go away this quickly. She should have expected pictures to be taken of the parties, she should have expected the reports to exist somewhere in the system.

What kind of research power did they even have, to acquire such information from her schools in Syngorn and the TWC?

Fuck. She gets into her truck and punches the leather outside of the wheel, cursing out loud. She puts the file down on the passenger seat and exhales. She needs to calm down. Her hands are shaking and she needs to be calmer to drive home, or she’ll drive herself into a fucking tree.

She would have thought being researched would be the worst part. But the worst part is the memories of Saundor the research brings. She’s fought so hard to put this behind her, she’s spent months bothered by horrible nightmares, every time she fell asleep. She’s better now, but this is a lot to deal with.

She really thought she was going to be safe from him now that she was hundreds of miles from the nearest portal to the Feywild. But the memories will not leave her and the scars are still obviously on her skin.

She can’t be safe. Not when she has her memories intact and his bow under her bed. It hasn’t been long enough. Maybe she’ll be done with him in a few years, or a few decades. Hopefully it will fade away faster than what her father did.

Falling from Syldor to Saundor was to be expected, now that she thinks about it. She was desperate for approval from some sort of authority figure and Saundor was that. And he had her wrapped around his little finger within days of meeting him.

Gods, she loved him. At least somewhere in the middle. Not at first, no. It had been all for comfort and pleasure. And then… at the end, it had been fear and hopelessness. But she had loved him in the middle. She’d worshipped him.

The great powerful Lord Saundor the Forsaken.

Her forehead hits the leather covering the wheel and she sighs heavily. She’s so tired. Her fingers find the key and turn it, sending the engine roaring on. The radio turns on with it as contact is made. It’s still on that pop channel since they went for a groceries run whe Vax arrived.

It feels like it happened weeks ago. The onboard calendar says it’s the 28th of Cuersaar. Vax has been in Whitestone for three days.

[petri808]

The Truth is not far from Fiction

@nalu-week bonus day AU prompt. Ghost story, modern setting, 7k words

Based on a real life experience.

One day late in the afternoon, Layla Heartfilia hears talking and pops her head into her toddlers bedroom. She sees the four-year-old playing with a doll in the middle of the floor, just babbling away and smiles. “Who are you talking to Lucy?”

The child’s brown eyes beam at her mother. “Mishi wanna pway wich doll.”

Assuming it was just an imaginary friend, the woman plays along. “I see. And are you being a good girl and sharing your toys?”

“Uh-huh, mommy.”

“That’s a good girl. I’ll be back shortly to get you for dinner, okay, you just keep playing nicely with your friend.”

“Otay,” Lucy giggles and looks at the girl sitting across from her, “Mishi you hungy too? Oh.” She then looks back at her mother, “Mishi say no can eat.”

“Why is that dear?”

“Mishis dead.”

><><><><><><><><><

From all outward appearances, Lucy Heartfilia was just your typical teenage girl. She had her tight-knit group of friends, a girly-girl when she wanted to be, but deep down was just as comfortable hanging with the guys. Fangirling over the latest manga heartthrob or relaxing with a good book were her two favorite things to do, well that and spending time with her best friend slash boyfriend Natsu Dragneel.

Natsu was born and raised in Hawaii whereas Lucy was a transplant to the islands. After her mother’s death, her father moved them to Hilo when the opportunity to invest in some new property developments came about. It was a small town compared to the big city they’d left behind, but it was a beautiful place and Lucy fell in love with it quickly. She knew her mother would have loved it because if there was one thing Layla Heartfilia had instilled in her daughter, it was a love of the stars.

Every cloudless night on the island provided a perfect opportunity for stargazing thanks to the role of the observatories on Mauna Kea; the islands largest volcanic mountain. Nothing brighter than an orange amber glow was allowed by law, cutting down on the amount of light pollution in Hawaii. Lucy loved it and took any opportunity to simply kick back under the stars picking out her favorite constellations.    

It was now the summer of their graduation from high school and the friends wanted to do something together to kick it off. A few options were thrown around, but when the idea of relaxing under the stars came to mind, Lucy suggested a camping trip. Campfires and smores, maybe some hiking, or even better, snuggling after dark. The group was sold.

“Gajeel’s dad said his contact will let us stay at K.O.E.C in volcano for the weekend since it’s not being used during the summer.” Levy McGarden was the first friend Lucy made after moving to the island and Gajeel Redfox was the girl’s boyfriend.

Lucy tips her head in confusion. “Where’s that? I don’t think I’ve heard of it before.”

“Oh,” Levy chuckles, “sometimes I forget you weren’t born here. In elementary school, all the kids are taken camping there. It’s like an educational retreat cause it’s right next to the national park.”

“Ah, gotcha. So, it’s a camping ground?”

“Mmm, sort of. There’s a building and a big grass area and a bonfire pit.  I don’t know the details if they’ll let us use the main building, but it’ll probably be fine if we just set up tents. Gajeel said the guy will give us a key to the gate when we arrive so we can go in and out.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Despite her father’s wishes for Lucy to go to a bigger college in the states, she decides to stay local for now, though that still meant relocating to a different island. It was true her decision was partially based on where her boyfriend was also attending school, but Chaminade University had a good reputation as well as the programs she was interested in. Natsu had graduated the year prior and received a football scholarship to attend the University of Manoa.  He’d be home for the summer in just a couple of days and she was excited to spend as much time with him as possible.

Starting fresh in a new place during middle school after leaving all of her friends behind in California can be tough on any young person, so it was really thanks to Levy and Natsu for making her feel so welcomed in Hawaii. On the first day of class Levy had befriended her and introduced Lucy into the group of kids that would stick together all the way from Waiakea Intermediate through Waiakea High. They’re like a second family for the girl who didn’t have any siblings and a father who was too busy to pay much attention.

But that was part of the beauty behind her and Natsu’s relationship. It wasn’t something that happened overnight, rather blossoming over several years from a friendship until one day their friend Gray Fullbuster pointed out they were already a pseudo couple so they might as well just make it official. Whenever Lucy thinks about that moment, it always makes her smile, because Natsu had simply chuckled, asked if she wanted to be his girl, she said yes, and they went on with the conversation as if nothing had changed.

Bright and early on a Friday morning, the group meets up at the local McDonald’s parking lot before the caravan heads out as a group to the Volcano area. Lucy rides with Natsu in his pickup truck, while everyone else were in other vehicles. There were eight of them total on their way for a fun filled weekend out in the countryside. It was the first time Lucy would be spending an extended amount of time in the area. Prior to this trip she’s only visited the park to do the typical tourist things like seeing the Jagger Museum or hiking the sulfur banks.

As they make their way to the area, no matter if the vehicle slows or accelerates, the road ahead blends as Lucy stares out the window. Greens, browns, mixed with multiple colors when they pass buildings. Her mind drifts with it, strangely lulled by an energy she cannot place, nor is even aware of its pull on her. The radio playing becomes a background noise with only the bass beats standing out… the drums especially calling to her and lulling her into a spell.  

“You okay, Luce?” Natsu questions her as she stares out the passenger window. The normally chatting girl was surprisingly quiet through the drive.

Lucy breaks out of her trance and looks over at her boyfriend. “Yeah, sorry I was just spacing out.” She smiles to allay his concerns. “I was so excited for this trip that I didn’t get much sleep.”

He reaches over and squeezes her hand with a smile. “How about I set up the tent first thing so you can take a nap?”

“I think I’ll be okay once we start doing stuff.”

“Whatever you say,” he winks.

She really wanted to enjoy this trip but the closer they got to the area the more a churning knot tightened in her stomach. It was a dubious feeling to place, not sick as if she were coming down with a cold, and she didn’t get motion sickness like her boyfriend, it was more like a foreboding feeling. Though a strange time to kick in, she had been a little stressed out about going off to college in the fall, so perhaps it was just a case of nerves.

That must be it, Lucy chalks up the weird feelings and rationalizes them as nothing more than a case of the jitters. Going away from home to a new place was a scary proposition, but she reminds herself she won’t be totally alone. Natsu will be on the island and so will Cana Alberona another close friend. And hey, thanks to the internet, those like Levy will be a simple click away too. She takes a deep breath and releases the churning emotions. It was time to focus on this camping trip and make it memorable.

When the caravan of vehicles pulls into the parking area, everyone waits with their vehicles while Gajeel settles up with the caretaker. Once that was complete, the group starts the task of setting up their gear. They break up the work, with the men focusing on the bigger jobs, erecting the tents, tables, and carrying the heavier items. The girls follow up with the sleeping bags, getting the food and other supplies squared away.

It was a nice place, just like Levy had described to Lucy. To the left of the parking lot was a large main building that housed expansive rooms used as classrooms. Downstairs were restrooms and showers, along with maintenance rooms. The caretaker had turned on the hot water and electricity for them to use on the bottom level, but the upstairs rooms were locked for security purposes. There was also security lighting around the building and on the street, but from what Lucy could gauge, once the sun goes down, the area would be quite dark. Good thing they brought a bunch of lanterns and flashlights.

In front of the building and parking lot, it opened up into a sprawling grassy area surrounded by trees. Beyond the trees were homes and subdivisions. At the very edge of the lawn, Lucy could see the bonfire area her friend had mentioned tucked in a corner. According to the caretaker, it was no longer used for full bonfires due to the threat of starting a forest fire, but they were allowed to make a small, normal sized campfire for doing things like roasting marshmallows or for warmth. The pit was also ringed with fallen Ohia tree logs to sit on.

The place was serene alright… but why was that nagging feeling eating away at her? As she stared towards the bon fire area, every fiber of her being was screaming at her to stay away from it. She didn’t like the vibes this place was giving off, which made absolutely no sense to her. It looked completely safe and quiet, they brought children here to camp for Pete’s sakes! Surely, the county wouldn’t allow visitors if this place wasn’t safe.

A shiver rushes along Lucy’s frame despite the lack of a breeze. Maybe she was just psyching herself out, so she turns away from the pit and focuses on something that did make her feel safe. Natsu had just finished setting up their tent. It was time for her to get their bedding down so they could settle in. Perfect, she could do that.

“So, how do you like it?” Natsu asks her as soon as she walks over to him. “Nice, right?”

“It’s a really scenic place,” Lucy agrees. She didn’t want to concern or spook him with her true thoughts of the place. “Is the tent ready?”

“Yup,” he grins, “pretty sure it won’t cave in.”

She chuckles, “I’ll get our sleeping bags and stuff set up.”

Natsu pulls her close and wraps his arms around her waist. “Just make sure I’ve got easy access to ya,” he wiggles his eyebrows. “After six months apart, I need to make up for lost time.”

That brings a flush to her cheeks and a giggle from the woman. “I think I can figure something out.”

He places a soft, lingering kiss on Lucy’s lips. “Remind me again how I managed to make you my girl?”

Lucy grins coyly, “by being an adorable dork.”

“Dork? Says the weirdo,” he chuckles and kisses her again. “Okay, you get cracking on this and I’ll be back in a bit after we set up the campfire for tonight.”

She just nods and watches him walk away for a moment, before turning her attention to the tent. Natsu had even added an additional tarp over the top in case it rained, how thoughtful and smart considering the weather here could turn without warning. Everyone had set up their tents, five in total, at distances from each other. Lucy chuckles in her head, knowing they weren’t the only ones with a little hanky-panky on the agenda.

Instead of using the sleeping bags as they were designed for, she unzips the two sets completely open, using one as the bottom and one as the blanket, finishing off their makeshift bed with the pillows. She then takes the bags that holds their clothing and toiletries and places it in the corner of the tent. Lastly, she double checks that their lantern was working properly and stores it near the entrance, so it was easy to turn on when needed.

With their accommodations ready, she could relax a little while she waited for Natsu to return. Since she didn’t know how long it would take the men to finish, Lucy decides to lay down and close her eyes. He’d suggested she take a short nap, and well, it seemed like a good idea now.

The moment she closes her eyes, the sunlight fades away behind her eyelids as her body slowly gives in. ‘This sleeping bag… is really comfortable…’ She felt peaceful, a sense of stilling calm like in the eye of a hurricane. The blue skies brought warmth streaming through the thin nylon fabric of the tent, pacifying the nervous pin pricks licking along her frame. Is that music playing somewhere? Lucy wonders as the edge of oblivion comes calling... Does someone have their bass cranked up?  

‘Did I sleep the afternoon away?’ Lucy looks around as the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge and the sickening feeling pitted in her stomach tightens. Something’s wrong, her mind screams. Where was the tent?! Why was she in the forest?! Where did everyone go? She was taking a nap and suddenly she was in the middle of the dark Ohia forest.

It was deathly silent save for the drumbeats and chanting getting louder— so loud that she felt it in her bones. No other signs of life, of crickets or coqui frogs, nor distant sounds of the homes she knew were laid out around the campsite. Only the drowning of drumbeats and the word kapu (sacred) repeated over and over. She covers her ears in a useless attempt to shield them from the noise, but it was as if they were coming from inside her head.

‘Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!’ Her voice cracked and trembling, desperate to get away from the torment. Fight or flight takes hold and she starts to back away, but her legs feel like rubber, her feet like dead weight. She looks down as a silent scream bubbles up in her throat. Why is her feet sinking into the mud! The ground had been solid a second ago!

She opens her mouth to cry out for Natsu, anybody, but no sound leaves her. Panic sets in, sending her mind into a tailspin, and energy surges through her body. She claws at her throat in desperation, why wasn’t her voice coming out! Her mind is begging for someone to please hear her screams. Natsu! Where was Natsu?!

Something grabs her from behind and her arms begin flailing out desperate to fight back.

“Lucy, wake up!”

“Natsu!” The blonde screams, kicking and punching as she sits straight up on the bedding. Still in a panicked fight for her life, she scrambles away until her back hits the wall of the tent. Her brain is struggling to take back control from the dreamworld, but the sounds were all she could hear roaring in her eardrums.

The hold around her center felt as if something very strong and powerful was squeezing the life out of her. All she could hear in her head were her own screams and that incessant drumbeat! Make it stop! Make it stop! The tears are pouring down, clouding her vision and marring the scene in front of her. Get me out of here!

“Lucy, Lucy!” Natsu grabs hold of her wrists to keep her from hitting him. “It’s a dream, Lucy, you’re okay now.” His own panic was rising faster than a flood. Why wasn’t she responding to him? Her eyes are open, but she was staring past him as if he didn’t exist just screaming for help.

“Lucy?” He feels what he can only equate to as sticking your hand in an electrical socket. His hands start to tingle and the air around them heats up. “W-What the hell is going on?!” Natsu squeaks out as a true fear takes hold. He could understand daymares, but this… this was abnormal!  

She thrashes against his hold for a few more seconds, shaking her head as tears pour in torrents down her cheeks. But despite the eerie shocks Lucy was giving him, he holds on tight until the opportunity presents itself to pull her into a fierce bear hug. Natsu had no idea what had set this off, so he fights off his own panic and does what he can, cooing and speaking softly to calm her. He couldn’t tell if his voice even had any weight behind it, but it was all he could muster.

“Shhh, babe I got ya now. Whatever it was, you’re safe.”

Natsu cradles her head, keeping it locked against his chest. There are footsteps around the tent along with a few ‘are you guys okay’ being asked. He responds that it was just a bad dream and not to worry. Lucy must have been much more tired than they’d realized for her to fall asleep so deeply and enter the dream stage in less than 30 minutes. He and Gray had only completed a third of the firepit when Levy had come to get him. The woman had heard distressing sounds coming from his girlfriend and they’d been enough to concern her.

Though Lucys mind was coming out of the dream world, and reality was taking hold again, a heavier panic sets in. How was she supposed to explain this to him? There was something about her life that she’d kept secret from everyone for fear of being looked at as a freak, and most of the time it wasn’t a problem to keep it hidden. Lucy fights to gain back control and to stop shaking. ‘It was just a dream Lucy,’ she tries to psyche up the lie in her head. ‘Nothing paranormal about a dream. It’s the stress manifesting itself.’ She didn’t want to worry anyone.

She takes several long, slow, deep breaths until the panic attack starts to wane. “Thank you, Natsu I-I’m fine now. I’m so sorry. I think all the anxiety of college is just getting to me.”

“No need to apologize Lucy, leaving home is scary. But you know I’ll be there for you right?”

“Yeah,” she cracks a smile. “I know you will be.”

“That was a pretty crazy dream though. Do you remember what it was about?”

Kapu… “No,” she shakes her head as if accentuating the word, but in reality, wishing the sounds echoing in her head would disappear.

“Okay.” His gut tells him not to push the topic until she was ready. Natsu kisses her forehead, “well if you do and you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears.” He smiles at her, “hey, why don’t you go wash your face, catch your breath, and maybe hang out with the girls to distract yourself while I finish up what I was doing?”

Lucy nods, “That’s a good idea.”

Of course, the moment she sat down with her concerned friends they bombarded her with questions about the daymare. Cana the ever-budding ‘spiritualist’ of the group pressing for information so she could discern the meanings behind what Lucy had seen. But she feigned not remembering anything once she’d been awoken by Natsu. She didn’t want to remember, rather forget it had ever happened. So, she falls back to the same excuse she’d used for him. Why not? At least if it were a consistent lie it would be easier to keep up.

“Are you sure Lu?” Levy reaches over and places a hand on her friends knee, “cause the way you were screaming… I swear even I was getting chills.”

“You literally sounded like you were being murdered.”

“Blunt enough, Cana?” Levy rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t need to be freaked out any more than necessary.”

“I really appreciate you’re guys concern, but I swear I’m fine now. I don’t remember what it was about and if it’s as bad as you’re saying, I’m glad I don’t remember.”

Levy fixes Lucy with a stare. “At least promise me if it happens again, you’ll talk to me.”

“I promise.” Lucy smiles back hoping to allay her friends concerns. “I think my nerves are just fried over college.”

To Lucy’s relief the rest of the group quickly switched into that topic. Juvia Lockser, Gray’s girlfriend was already a Sophomore in college, but she and the others shared their feelings of anxiety. It turns out they all felt similar to her, maybe even more so. Levy and Cana were born and raised in Hilo and had never travelled outside of the state before. Juvia is a transplant like Lucy except she came here for college from Seattle, Washington. It was only after meeting Gray at the University last year that she was folded into their group.      

“Lemme see if I can explain it,” Levy taps her chin. “A lot of islanders feel like they’re stuck here— okay maybe not stuck, but like… they don’t wanna leave their comfort zone. So, going away for college is really nerve wracking, that’s why I’m really anxious about it and excited at the same time.”

“Speak for yourself,” Cana chimes in, “I’m nervous sure, but I can’t wait to go to Honolulu! First thing I plan to do is hit the clubs! And I plan to drag you with me Lu.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Lucy waves her hands excitedly while laughing, “don’t drag me into that!”

“Aww, come on, think about it! I’ll get you all hot and bothered and unleash you on Natsu.” Cana winks, “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“OMG!” Lucy throws a handful of ripped grass at her friend as the other girls burst into laughter.

It’s not long in chatting with the girls that Lucy’s fears subside and the daymare is semi-forgotten. They talk about the rest of their plans for the weekend, like how tomorrow will be spent in the park checking out the latest volcanic activity and hiking the trails. Someone needs to stay behind to watch the camp, so Cana and Loke de Lioncourt agree to do it. Their reasoning is let the couples have fun exploring, but everyone else knows that the pair wanted some “fun time” to themselves.

Things were still quiet for Lucy by the time the men finish prepping the fire pit. The girls had made a simple lunch of sandwiches for the gang, so the guys join the conversation and things continue to flow smoothly into a relaxing afternoon. With Natsu by her side, Lucy feels an additional calming energy and that helps to settle the remnants of creepy sensations she was still having. She didn’t know how of why he was having that effect on her but welcomed it regardless.  

No matter where you go, there are spirits and because of her abilities, Lucy did what she could to acclimate to her surroundings. After moving to the islands, she familiarized herself with local legends and lore, about the gods and aumakua’s (spirit guardians), and so much more. There were tons of spirits here. But that didn’t mean she knew everything or when or where she may encounter them, and she certainly was no expert in how to deal with it. There’s no training manual for this stuff. The lucky ones find someone to mentor them, but beyond picking up tidbits where she could, Lucy worked by intuition most of the time.

After the incident in the tent, Natsu’s instincts were heightened. He couldn’t get a good read on what Lucy was thinking or feeling, but he could tell something was bothering her despite her downplays. But unless she was willing to tell him, he could only guess why her energy was spiking in an unusual manner and as darkness approached it was only increasing.

He watches her closely and starts to notice more troubling signs. Clearly, she was trying to hide them, but her mood was starting to change from engaged to removed. Where she was chatting normally at lunch, Lucy had slowed to only answering when spoken to. It was as if her mind was elsewhere and her energy level was waning. It reminded him of her behavior in the truck on their way to the site. Was it returning again?

“Here you go,” Natsu hands Lucy a plate of dinner. The group had barbecued some meat and thanks to the buildings electricity were able to make rice for a starch.

“Thanks,” she smiles, though the look behind it gave off a disinterested vibe.

Lucy had been holding her arm around her stomach as if it were bothering her. He’d just hoped she would say something if that were the case, but she never had. He sits down beside her, eating, and continuing his vigil. Was Lucy getting paler, or was it just the waning light? Even her eyes seemed dimmer.

“Are you feeling ill, you don’t look well.” Natsu finally whispers hoping not to gain attention from the group.

“Huh? Why?”

“You just look a little peaked is all.”

“I don’t know,” Lucy picks at the contents of her plate, “maybe I’m still tired… I kinda feel zapped all of a sudden.” She was feeling ill, as if an unexpected flu was kicking in, but she didn’t want to admit it. Her stomach was queasy, and her head was starting to get dizzy.  

“If you’re not feeling well, I don’t mind taking you home.”

“No, no,” she shakes her head determined to push through this bout. “I don’t wanna ruin your weekend.” But shaking her head was a bad idea and now she really felt dizzy. Why was this happening now? She’d been perfectly fine when they were in Hilo.

“Luce, helping my girl out isn’t gonna ruin my weekend.”

“Are you sure? Because…” her voice trails out and eyes roll back seconds before Lucy collapses forward. She never had a chance to finish.

The next 30 seconds is like a slow-motion scenes in a movie. Her name is screamed, and gasps ring out. Natsu reacts on instinct, dropping his plate and shooting his hand out to grab her before she face plants onto the ground. Everyone around them is on their feet in a flash, rushing over for support. When he lands partially under Lucy, Gajeel and Gray help him to get back into a sitting position with the unconscious woman still cradled in his lap.  

Natsu could feel a dark energy gathering around her that hadn’t been there before, triggering electrical sensations along his skin, similar to what he’d felt in the tent. This was not good… not good at all! Whatever had affected Lucy earlier in the day was intensifying. “I better get her to the hospital, somethings not right!” He scoops the unconscious woman up and gets to his feet.

Gray reaches out to support some of Lucy’s weight as Natsu stands up. “Yeah, man, do what you gotta do.”

“And don’t worry about your stuff, we’ll take care of it,” Gajeel chimes in. “You just worry about you’re woman.”

Levy places a hand on Natsu’s arm, her eyes clouded and barely holding back the pain of her concern. This was her best friend. With such an eventful afternoon, every worst-case scenario was running through her mind. Was Lucy sick? What kind of illness could strike a healthy young woman down so quickly? “Please call us as soon as you find out what’s wrong, okay, promise me.”

“Will do, Lev, I promise. Thanks guys.”

As Natsu secures Lucy into his truck, the girls grab the couple’s personal belongings like Lucy’s purse and a duffle bag of clothing for him. The camping gear, tent and such will be safe in the care of their friends. He was doing all he could to stay calm because the last thing he needed was to lose control and wreck his truck or something. When he climbs in and starts up the vehicle, he notices Lucy starting to stir a little. She was strapped in so she wouldn’t fall over, and her body stayed slumped, but her head was working to hold itself up. “Lucy? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah…” she mumbles with her eyes closed.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“What… happened?”

“You collapsed.”

Once he makes it out of the country roads and clears the forest, the truck roars it down the highway. Natsu wanted to get Lucy to the hospital as quickly as possible since it was about 40-50 miles away. Lucy was healthy, so he was concerned with the speed this illness had hit her, fast and hard.

He keeps his eyes on the road but checks on the woman in his passenger seat every few seconds. When they’d put her in the truck, she was barely ambulatory and coherent. Lucy still had her eyes closed as she rested her head in the crook of the door frame and seat. She was breathing normally as far as he could tell and at least her arm had relaxed away from clenching around her abdomen.

If he didn’t know better, it was as if Lucy had fallen asleep again. But the longer he watched, the more he could tell the situation was changing. After 10 minutes of driving and reaching the Fern forest area, she had shifted in the seat, stretching out her legs and sitting upright.

“How ya feeling Lucy?”

“A little better,” she responds. It was strange, but the heavy pressure she had felt back at the camp was slowly lifting the further they got away from it. Her body still felt tired as if all the energy had been sucked from it, but at least the foreboding vibes were melting away and she could breathe easier again. It was a complete reversal of how she felt going to the area.

“That’s good to hear.” It wasn’t just her words that brought him some relief. Natsu could sense the shift. The aura around her was no longer as dark as it had been at the camp.

Another 10 minutes or so passes by and they’d reached the town of Mountain View. Here Natsu was forced to slow down due to a slower speed limit and higher traffic flow. They come to a red traffic signal, so he takes the opportunity to make a better assessment of his girlfriend. Not only was Lucy’s eyes open, but they looked bright and her skin wasn’t as pale anymore. She was sitting fully upright just looking around as if taking in the view. Certainly not the look of someone being rushed to the hospital.

“Could we stop and grab food,” Lucy asks out of the blue when they’re about to hit Keaau town. He turns and looks to see her smiling at him. “I’m really hungry all of a sudden.”

“Um, yeah sure,” his eyebrow raises in confusion, “we could stop at McDonalds.”

“Great!”

“You know,” he pauses, “you seem a lot better Lucy, like completely normal and that’s kind of freaking me out.”

Lucy averts her eyes and her lips curve down in a small frown. “I’m really sorry for worrying you Natsu.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I don’t really like to talk about it…”

“Well I think I deserve to know considering you just scared the hell out of me Luce.”

She sighs, “You’re right— I-I don’t know exactly what happened back there, but there is something I haven’t told you or anyone else.”

Natsu can see the moisture building in her eyes, she was clearly torn and upset over whatever it was. He wasn’t angry that she’d withheld something from him, maybe a little annoyed, but he assumed she had a good reason for it. Lucy was never one to lie to him, so this must be a big deal to her. “You know I’d never judge you, right? You can tell me anything.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” she sighs again. “You don’t need to take me to the hospital, there’s nothing medically wrong with me.”

“Are you sure?”

Lucy nods. “Can we grab food and go back to your house? Then I’ll come clean… a-about everything.”

He picks up her hand and kisses it, nodding before turning off into the shopping complex’s parking lot. They order food through the drive through, then set off for his parent’s house in Hilo. It takes them about 20 more minutes to arrive and after giving a half-hearted explanation of cutting their trip short to his parents, the pair settle upstairs in Natsu’s bedroom.

Starving had been an understatement as Natsu watched Lucy inhale her burger. Normally he would finish meals first and would have to wait for her to catch up. It was eye opening, and probably the first time in all the years they’ve known each other he’s witnessed it. Of course, the whole day has been filled with new experiences with her, and this was the least concerning of it all.

With her food gone, Lucy pushes herself up and sits back against his headboard contemplating exactly how she should explain things to Natsu. She didn’t know why she was so worried about telling him, since he’s never been judgmental before. In fact, he often teased that he found her quirks endearing. But this wasn’t exactly normal. For his part, Natsu just sat on the bed in front of her in a cross-legged position, patiently waiting.

With her fingers fidgeting in her lap and her eyes boring holes into his comforter, Lucy starts out with a question of her own. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Never seen one before, but I believe it’s not impossible for them to exist.” He shifts in his position to let his legs stretch out and props himself with his arms behind his back. “I mean growing up here and being bombarded by the culture kind of gave me an open mind to it.”

“W-What if I told you that I’ve been able to see them since I was a kid? Would you think I’m weird?”

“You mean weirder than I already think you are? No,” he chuckles, “I wouldn’t.”

“I’m serious!” she pouts.

“So am I,” Natsu laughs harder. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he leans forward and pats her foot, his expression softening. “I’m just trying to show you that it doesn’t bother me. I’m not making fun of you, I promise. Is that what is was back there, a ghost?”

Lucy shakes her head. “I don’t think it was a regular ghost, and I still don’t fully understand what happened.”

“How about starting from the beginning. You were distracted before we even got to the place.”

“It was strange… like, as we drove into the area, I was getting a creepy feeling, you know, like when the hair stands up on the back of your neck? I tried to ignore it, but it only grew stronger once we reached the site. I kept telling myself it was nerves and then that daymare happened.” Lucy didn’t want to admit it, but in hindsight all the warning bells were there, and she’d chosen to ignore them. The creepy feelings, the energy drains, that daymare… If she’d listened to her instincts, she could have invoked a protection barrier. Of course, with how strong the energy source had been, she didn’t know if it would have worked, but trying would have been better than nothing.

“Yeah, the daymare. Do you remember it?”

She squeezes her eyes shut still wishing she couldn’t, but nods, “I do.” Sometimes her abilities came in handy and other times it was more like a curse. Lucy couldn’t see ghosts, but she could feel them, hear them, and being a sensitive attracted them to her. Most were benign, simply stuck in this realm, while others were angry and strong enough to affect the living world. As a sensitive, Lucy was more likely to become a target because just as she could sense them, they could sense her.

“Are you up to telling me? You don’t have to if you don’t want to cause you were pretty freaked out about it.”

“I should…”

Natsu realizes just thinking about it is triggering a small panic attack again. He sees her body start to shiver and shake. “H-Hey,” he quickly crawls over, pulls her into his lap and cradles her. “Don’t force yourself.”

“No, I-I want to. Maybe if I let it out, i-it’ll help.” Lucy releases an exhale. “I was in the forest hearing all these drumbeats and chanting and it was getting louder.” Her hands cover her ears as if she was re-living the dream. “I was so confused, no idea how I got there. My feet started to sink into the ground, and I couldn’t fight back when something grabbed me. I-I started to panic and the word kapu kept ringing in my head. I was screaming for you, for anyone… ugh the drums! A-and that’s when I woke up.”

He moves her hands away from her ears and tightens his embrace in a bid to make her feel safe again.

“After you calmed me down, I was able to forget about it for a while. I figured it was just a bad dream and moved on. But then during dinner I started to feel drained, like all my energy was being sucked away. I tried to ignore it thinking I was just tired and the next thing I knew, I woke up in the truck.”

“And this has never happened to you before?”

She shakes her head no. “At least not this bad before.” This wasn’t the first time Lucy had encountered an area heavy with spiritual energy. The islands were rife with it, but this was the first time that it had affected her to this extent.

“So, it has happened before?”

“Sort of… like once before when I went to a place that I learned later has evil spirits.” Lucy relaxes a little. “Best I can explain it, is when there’s really strong energies around me, it makes me feel weird, like zapped. Maybe there were powerful spirits around the camping area.” A chill runs along her spine causing her to shiver. “Definitely not going back to that place again.” Lucy looks up at Natsu. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Far from it.” He hugs her tighter. “You just have a gift and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Lucy snorts a laugh, “can I return this gift?”

“Mmmm,” he chuckles too, “probably not. But you know, you’re not alone, right? I mean, you’re the only person I know that’s actually seen stuff, but as far as being sensitive, you’re not the only one. My mom says that I have a little bit of empathic abilities. I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I just know I pick up on how people are feeling around me. That’s why I kept asking if you were okay.”

“Wow,” her eyes widen, “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, cause I don’t advertise it,” Natsu laughs. “The guys know about me, but it’s not something I talk about to others.”

She sighs, “guess we were both hiding something from each other.”

“I won’t hold it against you, if you won’t hold it against me.”

“Thank you Natsu.” Lucy leans up and kisses him softly. She cups his cheek in her hands, “I really appreciate you being so understanding.”

He places his hand over hers, eyes smiling, just holding the special moment. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He then pulls her head against his shoulder.

Lucy settles happily on his lap just relieved that the whole ordeal was over. It was disheartening that she wouldn’t get to hang out with their friends this weekend but having Natsu with her was enough for now. They still had the rest of the summer to spare.

While she recuperated in his arms, Natsu sends a text to Gray and Levy explaining what happened. To his surprise the girl sends a message back saying she may know what Lucy was experiencing. There was a Hawaiian legend from the volcano area that may explain it. So, he calls Levy and puts her on speakerphone.

According to the girls readings, during the time King Kamehameha the First was working to unify all of the islands, many battles took place with local chiefs, including in the volcano area. Legend holds that sometimes spirits of deceased soldiers will continue to march in death. Such ‘Night Marchers’ have been seen right around the area where K.O.E.C. is located. They come out at specific times, which Levy had no idea when that could be. But perhaps, that was the source of what affected Lucy?

It was as good a guess as any.

Levy, “Some say that if the living encounters them, unless there is an aumakua in the procession of marchers to protect that person, they can become ill or even die from exposure. Course no one’s ever verified any of that.”

“I remember reading about the night marchers. I always thought it was exaggerated like a lot of claims are.” Lucy frowns, “but it sure explains what I might have been sensing.” She’d studied local lore because it was interesting to her and the culture in Hawaii made it fairly easy to research things. Stories of ancient tales and ghostly encounters abound here, but there was so much information, it wasn’t always easy to tell fact from fiction.

“Do you think they were warning you or something?” Natsu questions. “Cause it wasn’t even fully nighttime yet and I heard they come out later in the evening.”

“Ugh,” Lucy groans, “I have no idea because I really don’t fully understand all this stuff yet. Like I said, I thought night marchers were just folklore, so I never believed all the stories. But thanks Levy, knowing what it might have been makes me feel a lot better that I wasn’t going crazy.”

Levy, “Aww, you’re welcome Lu! It’s kind of late to pack it in for the night, but everyone agrees we rather find somewhere else to camp so you guys can join us for the rest of the weekend.”

“Wow, really? That’ll be so great!”

Levy, “Of course! It’s always better when everyone’s together. Take care you guys, and don’t worry about us. I’ll text you as soon as we figure out the plan.”

Natsu hangs up the phone and bundles Lucy close. “So, what’dya say? Spend the night here with me?”

“Your parents won’t mind?”

“Pfft, my parents love you. Just kinda bummed we can’t… you know,” he grins.

“I’m just as bummed about that too,” she teases, “but there’s always tomorrow.” Lucy cuddles against him and closes her eyes. Natsu’s energy was so soothing to her and now she knew why. It was kind of amusing that she ended up with a guy who had gifts like her, albeit a different one. Still, it made her feel normal for once in her entire life. “Thank you again Natsu, you know, for everything.”

He kisses the top of her head and leans his against hers. “You’re welcome, weirdo.”

“Yeah, well a weirdo you’re stuck with.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

><><><>Notes<><><><

Much of the spookier elements are based off an experience I had when I was around the age of 11 when we were taken to this location for a school trip. By the end of the day I was getting so sick a chaperone had to take me home, but just like in the story, once we were away from the area, I was completely fine. I’ve had many experiences over the years, this one isn’t even the scariest. No idea how you label me, all I know is I am sensitive, possibly an empath, I absorb and affect energy. I don’t actually see spirits, I just sense them and generally unless they are strong like those in this story, they don’t bother me or can’t because I can repel them now. Oh, and the reason I made Natsu have something too is just because lol. My husband actually sees stuff, and I think it’s ironic that I picked someone that has gifts too. 

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Winter Whumperland Day 6: Mistakes

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 6. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 5 'Animals'. As they arrive at their destination for the trip, Hiccup manages to slip away long enough to tell someone where he is.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Eret, Viggo, Ryker

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 7 768

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Branding”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: Please read the tags.

I think this is the darkest fic I've written to date, which Day 6 probably taking the cake. (Unless a future Day tops that and I may now which one, but that is just my opinion) I think this counts a dark fic, doesn't it? I've surprised even myself! I've had a dark fic in mind that I've been working on, never thought I would write this one before I finish that one!

Constructive criticism is appreciated! Including on the tags! I tried to tag everything under the sun, but I might've missed some.

Enjoy!

I almost want to tag this as a coffee shop AU.

@amonthofwhump

Ao3

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Hiccup is ashamed to admit that he's quiet the rest of the way. As they sail towards their vacation destination, he thinks of his friends, his parents, Gobber, Toothless, and White Spot, too.

Will he ever see them again? He won't if he doesn't get away from these two madmen, because submitting to Viggo simply isn't an option.

He certainly tries to persuade him. He can see that Hiccup is quieter then usual and he wants to make use of the emotional turmoil he must be going through after being told how this little trip can possibly end. He's even quiet compared to his time spent in the basement and his ribs were broken back then, not allowing for much breathing space.

There's an empty look in his eyes as Viggo tries that he quite likes. It's quite promising, he finds, and so he's been persuading him with promises of letting him leave the house once in a while. They have a big yard, they can let him sit outside for a few minutes. So long as he does it quietly, of course. Cars still pass their home on occasion, so they can't let him make too much noise.

And maybe, when he's really good, they can even let him call his family or that blonde girl that clung to him.

They can spin a little story, make it seem like Hiccup's been found by them, the Grimborns, after having been missing for years. But only after it's been years. Surely by then, they'll have conditioned Hiccup enough to not leave them and not betray them. They can even give their tale the exciting twist that Hiccup now forever clings to "his rescuers". So that when Hiccup is given the generous opportunity to see his loved ones again, they won't be too suspicious when he inevitably chooses to stay with the man who rescued him rather than the people who lost him.

It's a horrible, horrible thing, truly disgusting. The worst part is, Hiccup is actually tempted by the sweet, sweet promises. He doesn't look forward to the years more of pain and misery, but he does so long to see his friends and family again. But the fact that more suffering seems more tempting than fighting that suffering is just one more reason why he can't submit.

The whole reason for them being here is to get him to do just that and if he submits, he's lost.

The steady decline of trying to physically oppose his abusers followed by the decline in opposing them verbally until all that remains is secret rulebreaking that was never secret to begin with, actively using Viggo's desire for him to save himself from hurt or the threat of returning to the basement, not correcting those men at the party when they told Viggo how lucky he was to have Hiccup... These past months have been a gradual descent to a broken spirit.

Hiccup can feel the cracks desperately trying to glue themselves back together again. He wasn't aware of it until now, after this kick while he's down, but they might've been trying to ever since he got to see the light again. The cracks were already there, they've always been there, and they can't put themselves back together. Every time they try, more of them appear, and all the more impossible it becomes to lose the pieces.

Something else that makes it difficult to keep this fight up is that Viggo can actually be called nice for once.

Of course, Hiccup is smart enough to figure out that this is just another ploy to manipulate him. Viggo knows he's close, he just needs to reel him in.

Besides the empty promises replacing the very true threats, he hugs him when he feels lost. It's nothing like the forced cuddles after sex and Viggo isn't an affectionate man either, which makes this one feel almost sweet.

How easily he sinks into the hug frightens him. How he lies his head on his shoulder and feels the tears burning in his eyes frightens him.

Though he never wants to be touched by either man, especially not the younger brother, this is the first time he realizes how deprived of affection he's been throughout it all. The sex was empty to him, when it was consensual, and besides that, there were only bruises, broken bones, and burns. His blistered hand itches terribly underneath its bandage.

In that moment, he begs for his father then. He wants him to show up out of nowhere and pull him out of this nightmare. Or maybe his mother can come down with a dragon and whisk him away back to the sanctuary. Either way, he wants them to come for him before he's lost forever.

In the final minutes of their trip, Viggo holds him, and then they land on the docks of a snow-covered fishing Town by the name of Port.

It's small and Viggo has probably chosen it because of how small and remote it is. Maybe he hopes the news of a missing 19-year-old hasn't reached this place yet or maybe he hopes the sudden appearance of a clearly very rich man scares them out of being nosy about the oddly dressed person with them.

Because just before they dock, Viggo releases him and a pair of sunglasses are shoved onto the bridge of his nose and the hood of his hoodie, and then his coat are pulled over his head. It's to keep people from recognizing him and the Grimborn's presence is supposed to scare them off. One brother rich, the other clearly trouble.

Hiccup says nothing as they dress him up in this little disguise before they land and leave the boat after anchoring.

The docks are busy. It makes sense, their biggest income comes from fishing and not the tourism their beauteous little landscape would probably attract. On a more normal day, Hiccup would appreciate the view of the mountain in the very back with the vast and wide forest at her base, but this isn't a normal day.

But he's not quite as gone as the Grimborns seem to think he is, because he notices that neither of the two is holding him. Have they been lulled into a false sense of safety by his quietness? They couldn't even drive him to the boat without blindfolding him and tying his wrists together.

But then, aren't many criminals caught because they made a mistake?

Unfortunately for them, Hiccup sees an opportunity and he takes it.

"HI- HENRY!" By the time he hears that fake name, he's already disappeared into the crowd of fishermen and dock workers.

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Minutes later, he can finally breathe. Crouching in a little alleyway between two buildings, he pants and attempts to recover his lost air. It's not easy to run with a prosthetic, but his is self-made and it was made with the intention to allow running. There's a system with a spring to allow a bit of ankle movement, too. Can't chase unruly dragons if he can't run, can he?

He dares to peek around the corner, staying low and not quite leaving his safe haven behind a trashcan, but he sees neither Viggo, nor Ryker.

Are they... gone?

Overwhelmed by the feeling of relief, he sits back against the wall, staring straight ahead of him.

No, this can't be real. He can't have really just escaped, right? This has to be some sort of prank or a joke. It can't have been that easy.

But he checks again, this time daring to peek out a bit farther, and he still doesn't see either of them.

They're gone. And not just at work gone, they're gone gone!

He feels emotional and it's so easy to lose himself in that emotion, but if he doesn't get back up and start moving, they won't stay gone for long. That's the only reason why he manages to get back up on his feet and face the public outside of the alleyway.

Scanning his surroundings a third time, the people who pass him by are staring, but he gets why. He's wearing sunglasses in the middle of the Winter in a small town that probably isn't used to much.

So he gets moving and wonders what his next move is.

They've only traveled along the shore, can he grab a cab or travel back by bus or train somehow? Though, there is the problem that those options require money, which is something he doesn't have.

The police? No, he feels strangely distrusting of them after their failure to find him for so long.

The hospital? That means finding out if Port even has one and if he can navigate his way there before he's caught.

But then he comes across a little story, a fishing and bait shop, and something promising catches his attention through the window.

A poster with his face on it. A missing person's poster!

He walks in urgently, nearly ripping the door off its hinges in his hurry, the bell above it jingling loudly, and removes the hood of his coat.

Unfortunately, there is only one person present in the story and he, a man with black hair tied back in a ponytail and a blue tattoo with meaning on his chin, he doesn't look at him with the most welcoming of frowns.

Can Hiccup blame him? Who comes into a calm store in the middle of Winter with sunglasses and a hood on? And nearly breaks the door on his way in, too! Still, he doesn't waste any time as he makes his way to the counter.

"Listen, Bub, I don't know what you're planning on doing, but if it's trouble you're looking for-" The man speaks with an English accent, but he's cut off when Hiccup reaches him.

"Please," He begins, removing his sunglasses and pulling the other hoodie down. "You need to help me, I'm-"

But he barely needs to say anything, the second he reveals his face, that of the young man's changes to one of shock and he whirls around in his spot, immediately searching for and finding the poster hung on the store's bulletin board.

"You're him?" He asks, pointing first to the poster and then to Hiccup. Hiccup nods, happy that someone recognizes him. This man, Eret he reads on the nametag that is a sticker on his sweater, recognizes him.

"You're actually alive? I followed the news, they said that they caught the guy and that they were sure you were dead because the guy wasn't giving up where you were!" He talks to him and Hiccup finds that to be news to him.

"If they caught the guy, then who have I been held captive by since June?" He asks, quietly sarcastic instead of loudly sarcastic like before, and runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

Is that why they never came for him? Because they just put someone in jail and called it a day?

"Please, you have to help me. The people who kidnapped me, the actual people responsible, they want to kill me!" As if he wasn't already alarmed enough before, he certainly is now. But Eret seems to take it in stride and nods understandingly.

"Don't worry, you're safe here." He tells him, briefly grabbing his fist to squeeze it reassuringly. He draws back and pulls his phone from his pocket. "Do you want to call the cops?"

His thumb is ready to dial, but Hiccup hesitates and thinks of the likelihood of them showing up when they arrest some guy and then assumed he was dead just because they couldn't be bothered to actually solve his case. The media attention hounding them for answers must've annoyed them instead of urged them to find some.

So Hiccup shakes his head.

"Can I have your phone for a sec instead?" He asks and Eret, figuring he might try to call someone who can be of actual help, decides to hand it over after unlocking it.

"Thank you," Hiccup thanks him and leans on the counter to spare his stump his weight for a moment. He sags in relief, holding a phone without consequence for the first time in forever. With Eret here, he already feels a bit safer.

But Hiccup doesn't immediately call for help, instead signing in into the first social media account he can think of to find the first person with an account he can think of.

Astrid.

Perhaps, the smarter idea would be to call his dad or someone who can come get him. Maybe he could've called his mom to tell her where he is and maybe then the "whisked away by dragon" dream isn't so farfetched after all.

But that's not what he does and he can't quite explain why he didn't either. He'll kick himself for it later, but all he wants is to see his friends.

When he finds Astrid, he notices that her head has changed since the last time he's seen it. It's no longer her and Stormfly, now it's her and him. And as he scrolls through her page, she hasn't posted much of her usual stuff, instead there are just pictures of him and pleads for any tips. He's always known that she has a library full of him, none of these were taken without his permission.

So he's right about one thing. His girlfriend and friends have been looking for him in one of the few ways they think they can. And his dad, well, he doesn't have an internet presence, but he doesn't need one for Hiccup to know that he hasn't given up on him yet either. He hopes so, at least.

There are those emotions again, he must be tired.

Eret watches him, sees him wipe at his eyes with a sleeve quickly to avoid spilling the tears they both know are there. There are blue bruises surrounding a cut on his cheekbone and staining his jawline. It appears his left hand is bandaged, too. Even without the context of the escaped abductee, Eret can still tell he's been through the wringer and so he walks away from the counter.

Hiccup hurriedly looks up, too alert.

"You want something to eat while we wait? Something to drink? We only have snacks, but I think they"ll keep you going until we can get some actual food in you. You want a coke?" Eret asks as he stands before the fridge, wondering if he can lift his spirits with a little food. He does look awfully thin.

"That would be great, but I don't have any money on me." Hiccup informs him that he can't pay for anything for the time being. Turning to a different screen on the smartphone, he quickly finds the call function with the intention of dialing his dad's number.

"It's on the house!" Eret opens the fridge to take a coke from. Next on the list will be a candy bar and he'll probably go for the one with the most calories.

Hiccup smiles at him and for once his smile isn't forced. It's small, but it's certainly there.

Behind them, the door to the store opens, and the little bell jingles. Eret barely responds to it, it's a sound he's heard so many times before. In his search, he disappears behind some shelves.

"You own this place?" But Hiccup looks over, taking his eyes away from the phone, away from the number he's only just dialed a mere three numbers of.

He finds them and he can tell by the built and the clothes who it is. He doesn't need to see his face to know, his bald head covered by the hood of his jacket. And as he spots something gleaming in his hand, he simply freezes in place.

This store is too small and Ryker is upon him too soon.

"No, I don't, my dad runs this shop, I'm usually out at sea. So it won't be a problem, I'll take care of it!" Eret replies to Hiccup's question, completely unaware of what's transpiring before the counter. Behind those shelves, he isn't quite close enough to hear or to see what's going on.

Ryker's too close to run away from without making a scene and the brothers hate making a scene. If he does anything stupid, the man kind enough to help him out will get hurt. Eret doesn't look particularly weak, but Hiccup knows Ryker isn't and he doesn't want to take any unnecessary risks. Not when someone else's life could depend on it.

The tip of the knife pushes into his stomach, threatening to pierce his coat with ease. It certainly looks sharp enough for the job.

"She hasn't been in your sight for a few days and you already forgot her? Don't think that just because she's in a shelter that she's safe." Ryker is so close Hiccup can smell and feel his breath as he whispers in a growly voice.

He did think that White Spot being out of the picture meant that they couldn't use her against him. Apparently, he was wrong.

"And what's worse, dragging an innocent man down with you, are you? You better be quiet and follow my lead or your new boyfriend is going to die in a mugging." Ryker threatens him with Eret's life If he takes the money from the register, people are probably not going to link a presumed mugging case to a kidnapping case. And if there are cameras, well, Ryker isn't so stupid as to leave those intact.

"You're-" Hiccup wants to tell him that he and Viggo are sick for playing with the lives of a two-month-old cat and an innocent, but Ryker raises a finger in warning and he quiets down.

"Hiccup?" Upon not receiving an answer, Eret returns with an armful and lays eyes on the other man, too.

He'd welcome him, as he would any customer, but he doesn't like the close proximity between him and Hiccup.

"What's going on here?"

Ryker wraps a strong arm around Hiccup to pull him against him and the young man jumps when he can feel the knife be pushed into his lower back now. It's with such pressure that it makes him gasp in discomfort.

"You'll have to excuse us. My brother's partner here thinks he can get attention by pretending to be that poor missing boy. Not the first time, he's been in and out of institutions for years. He's an addict, too, so please don't be angry with him." Ryker uses the fakest voice he can muster as he excuses Hiccup's behavior before he pulls him along.

"Hiccup-" Eret is ready to jump in, but Hiccup stops him.

"It's Henry, actually. And he's right, I should be going." It hurts to accept that false name for his own, no matter how briefly, but he feels like he needs to. It's bad enough that White Spot's sole purpose in life is to be used as leverage, he doesn't want Eret to get hurt just because he made the stupid decision to go into the first shop that had his face in it.

Eret doesn't give chase when Hiccup is pulled out of the store, he's left to watch them go. The jingle of a bell has never sounded as ominous as it does at that moment.

"Maybe making an addict out of you wouldn't have been such a bad idea. At least addicts don't run." Ryker growls into Hiccup's ear and he can't help but feel like he talks out of experience.

Inside the store, Eret leaves his armful of delicious goods on the counter. His gaze is still on the door and he debates running after the two all the same. He's weighing his options, how risky would that be?

But then he notices that Hiccup left his phone and picks it up.

"He never even got to call anyone." Unlocking the screen, he notices a partial number. He takes a screenshot of it, maybe it can still be of use later, and then swipes the phone app away to see a stranger's social media page.

"Astrid Hofferson?" He reads out loud and sees the number on one of her posts asking for tips.

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Maybe asking Eret for help was a mistake, maybe the decision to go with Ryker was the mistake, either way, Hiccup can't say he regrets it. There were too many uncertainties in that situation, too many risks, he feels like he made the right choice.

After a... reunion with Viggo, they take their bags and stuff them into a rental car. It's the nicest and most expensive one Port has to offer and it makes Viggo sneer in disgust, but it'll have to do.

While Ryker has seemingly calmed down a bit, as a matter of fact, he almost appear expecting something, Viggo's anger is so thick it's palpable. The whole ride to their destination, there's pressure inside Hiccup's chest, a pain, and it's difficult for him to keep breathing. And while neither brothers are chatterboxes, the silence is unusual even for them, and that makes the storm brewing on the younger one's face all the more concerning.

What is supposed to be their home for the next two weeks is a cabin far, far outside of town. It, too, is way below the younger Grimborn's usual taste and it further rubs in the fact that this vacation isn't supposed to be a vacation.

The second they enter and the door closes behind him, another hit, this time on his other cheek, and a pair of hands wrap themselves around his throat.

"No!" That is all Hiccup can choke out before his airways are closed off and he's pushed into the nearest wall.

"What about last chances did you mishear, Dear?!" The temper flare Viggo's been holding in on the way here bursts free and he squeezes.

Ryker watches for a moment with little care, only glad that Hiccup isn't getting out of this without consequence, and he's soon off to find his usual room. Viggo may think this place beneath him, but Ryker quite likes it.

"N... n-" Hiccup would respond, except he can't. He can't draw a single breath and he can't exhale one either. His lungs are burning to do both, the pain in his chest worsening. All he can do is try to remove those hands from his throat and that's hard to do with one hand burned. His good foot is standing on its toes, too.

"What do I have to do to make you submit to me, you stubborn boy!" Viggo shouts. He would squeeze harder if he could without irreparably damaging something important and it's taking him everything to hold back just that.

"St... st-" Hiccup continues to try, pulling on his abuser's hands, attempting to curl his fingers beneath Viggo's without luck. He's begging him to stop, face red, teary-eyed, and saliva with nowhere to go building up in his mouth.

Is this how he's going to die? By being strangled to death? Surely, Viggo isn't willing to give him up quite yet? Why put all these months in him just to throw him away?

Black dances at the edge of his vision, threatening to consume him. He wants air so badly. He wants the pain to stop.

And then Viggo's glare softens lightly as an idea comes to mind. His eyes fall on the fireplace on one end of the room.

"Ryker, light the fireplace. I may have an idea." His hard gaze goes back to Hiccup, who is only moments away from losing full consciousness, while Ryker returns and does as he's told.

Hiccup passes out soon after, the hold on his throat relinquishes and he crumples to the ground.

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When he comes to, it's to his hoodie being pulled on, alarming him.

"No... No-no!" He croaks out a protest, weakly attempting to pull those hands away from him now, but in his current state, he's no match for them.

He's pinned to the ground on his front by Ryker, his face pressed into the wooden floorboards beneath the fire.

"Oh, stop your struggling, you know it's pointless." He tells him and Hiccup can't reply to that, his throat in too much pain. The hurt inside his chest is horrendous as well.

"Please-"

"If you want to be let go, then either you undress for us or we'll have to use force," Viggo says, crouching by the fire. What he's doing there, Hiccup doesn't know and can't see, but it's can be good. It sounds like he's playing with the fire, poking the wood inside. Is it a fire poker?

Hearing no more protests from him, Ryker releases him and Hiccup somehow manages to get up on his knees. He glances towards Viggo and what he's holding doesn't seem like a fire poker to him, but he can't see the entire thing.

"I'm waiting, Hiccup, don't test my patience any more than you already have," Viggo warns him and, reluctantly and with difficulty, Hiccup does as he's told and slowly removes both the hoodie and the t-shirt underneath. At his belt, he hesitates.

The clothes they made him wear, he's just noticing that they're the ones he wore the day he was abducted.

What a time to notice that.

"That's enough. Now, back to me." Viggo tells him, standing up with the rod he holds as it's glowing a bright orange. At the very end, there are the distinct letters of 'V.G' and they're the brightest part of all.

With horrible dread does Hiccup realize that they plan on branding him. Him! Like cattle! Like property! As if they couldn't treat him like any more of a personal slave, they want to do this to him.

"No!" His throat hurts as he speaks. When he makes a move to stands up, Ryker is quick to take an arm and twist it behind his back, making an end to his futile attempt to escape.

A cry rips out of him, worsening the pain. He can squirm and writhe, but all it does is convince Ryker to test the limits of his elbow. Cringing, Hiccup can feel the joint's want to pop apart.

With just this move alone, he's completely restrained and Ryker grabs his hair with his free hand and pushes his head down.

Though never an overly prideful kind of person, Hiccup had dignity at some point. That seems to be gone now as he has no problem begging them not to do this to him.

"No, please, not that! I'll behave! I swear I'll behave this time, just don't brand me! Viggo!" He hates those words, hates that they even need to be said, that he needs to beg for something so inhuman to not be done to him. His voice comes out hoarse and there are cracks with every other spoken word.

But Viggo doesn't care to listen to his pleas. While the iron is hot, he comes to stand by him and with one swift motion does he choose a spot and presses the branding iron on his right shoulder blade.

The feeling of flesh searing away is instant and Hiccup screams. Whitehot agony sets his nerves ablaze and they scream with him.

Viggo holds it there for a second, two seconds, three, until a total of five have passed and that's when he removes it. Those five seconds felt like an eternity and Hiccup's life has been changed all over again.

He doesn't need to see it to know that it's there, he can feel it on his skin. He's been branded to be someone's property and after everything that's already been taken from him, Viggo might as well make him something akin to furniture.

The figurative cracks bleed and they give up on trying to fix the damage.

Ryker releases him and Hiccup brings a hand to his arm, folds over, and cries, his forehead pressing into the floorboards.

He's been defeated. What more needs to be done to him to prove that? He never stood a chance.

Viggo stands over him with a smirk, certain that his young captive has finally been broken.

"Get me the medical supplies, Ryker, we don't want that to get infected." The younger brother tells the older one and he leaves to search the luggage for them. They'd certainly come prepared for this.

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"If you'd just been smart and stayed out of trouble, this could've been avoided," Viggo tells him sometime later as he puts the finishing touches on the dressings covering the fresh brand. Honestly, Hiccup has no one to blame but himself. If he hadn't been so stubborn, this wouldn't have been necessary.

As for the brand, it's been properly cooled, cleaned, and there's a healing and disinfecting salve on it. All that remained were the dressings and Viggo has been applying them gently.

They're sitting on the bed they'll be sharing together for the next two weeks and he's faking being nice again. He's acting like a net, there to catch Hiccup at his lowest moment thus far, like he was on the boat. Like he was the day Viggo let him see sunlight again.

Hiccup doesn't respond to him, which is quite fine with Viggo. He usually has an answer for everything, very annoying, so silence from him is a good chance of pace.

The dressings are in place and Hiccup doesn't shy away when a kiss is placed on the back of his neck, his hair moved out of the way. The hand stays on his neck, thumb rubbing his spine.

In as much pain as he is, Hiccup doesn't even feel the usual cold shivers those touches give him.

But then thick lips come down on him again, meeting with his hair, the skin on the back of his neck, and then his shoulder. They're placed deliberately slow and Hiccup can feel his heart sinking. He can already tell what's about to happen, what his wanna-be owner wants from him. The same thing he's wanted from him since the very beginning, that which he's used as a shield more times than he'd like to admit.

"Lie down on the bed, on your front." Viggo growls into his ear, this time not in anger, but in desire. His hand caressing Hiccup's back and coming too close to the overly sensitive area surrounding his shoulder blade, he can only listen.

He kicks his shoes off, brand pulling beneath the dressing, and removes his prosthetic before he gets further up on the bed. He lies down, his arms wanting to wrap around a pillow only for him to yelp when the initials on his back don't agree with him. So now two letters have more say over his own body than he does.

That hand returns to his back and he can feel its fingers tracing his spine upwards, going ever so slowly until they reach his hair and then they go back down. Going lower and lower, they reach his belt and that's when they leave.

He can hear the other remove his shoes, a belt that isn't his be undone, and then he's straddled. All he can do is bite into the pillow and hope it'll be over soon. That is how his first evening on this trip ends.

The fight has entirely left his body.

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The next morning, Hiccup is certain he's finally been broken. The brand and last night's sex, if it could be called that, after he thought for a short moment that he was free is what it took.

Every single day since he's seen sunlight, he's had to wake up at 5 am, every day without fail. While Viggo showered and went on with his morning routine, Hiccup was expected to lay his clothes out for him, make the bed, and then make breakfast. Every single day.

So imagine how strange it must feel to wake up and see that it's light out. It's winter and so the sun shouldn't even begin to rise until after eight. Have they let him sleep in?

His head is heavy, his everything is heavy, and the brand, while still painful, doesn't burn quite as much as it did the night before.

Reaching for the watch on the nightstand, he sees that it's 11 am and that is even more troubling. And yet, Hiccup can only decide to take whatever punishment must be awaiting his tardiness. What's the point of fighting it?

He gets up and dresses in the same clothes as the day before. He doesn't know yet if he's allowed to shower or even wash up, so he attempts to ignore how uncomfortable he feels, feeling sticky with sweat and whatever else, and he finds his way to the living room and then the kitchen.

As he walks, he doesn't feel like he's the one doing the walking. He doesn't feel like he's entirely awake either, though he's certain he is. It's like he's stuck somewhere between reality and a dream.

When he finds the kitchen and the Grimborn Brothers, it's not him who tells them good morning with a sore throat and a barely audible voice, and neither of the two even mention how long he's slept in.

On autopilot, Hiccup leans down and presses his lips to Viggo's in a good morning kiss. There is no feeling behind it, certainly no love, not even the slightest hint of something akin to like. Though he's almost certain good morning kisses used to have a spark to them once upon a time, in a long distant past.

They talk to him, like they would talk to a person, and Hiccup doesn't hear himself respond, but he does. He's too out of it for the words to reach him, though it's him that they leave.

He's starving, but he gets to work on lunch for the two older men first. Because that's expected of him, because what he is to them, what he was taken to be, was nothing but free personal labor. A one-dimensional companion with a select desirable attributes and personality traits. Someone willing to give it up for free and without complaint whether he feels like it or not.

A slave, that's what they searched for in him, and a sex slave is what Viggo was specifically looking for. One they could have the pleasure of personally destroying until nothing was left. One Viggo could occasionally play chess with if he wanted to.

The thought should hurt, but if it does, his mind is too far away to realize it.

Are minutes passing? Before he realizes it, lunch is over. Ryker has left while Viggo is with him as it's his turn to eat, their hands together on the table. And then lunch is over and he's unpacking their stuff while they're each off doing... he can't remember what Viggo told him.

Hours are passing and it seems like time is no longer a concept he can perceive as it goes by like a blur. It seems like his mind and his body have separated from one another, though still very much in touch.

The day goes by and he can barely remember it, though it still somehow goes so agonizingly slow. He sits around for most of it, only leaving his designated spot on the couch when he's told to go do something.

Somewhere inside of him, the very notion that he's been broken saddens him, but he's all out of tears to shed. And even if he shed some more, who would care? Viggo would see it as more proof of his victory. He'd use it against him, comforting him as he'd done on the boat and after the branding. And Ryker, he would just find amusement in it after all the trouble's caused them.

It isn't until evening creeps up that he seems to be snapping out of his trance. He's been washed by then and it's like he's waking up from an hours-long slumber.

It's time for dinner and as Hiccup is finishing it up, the brothers are sitting at the table waiting for him to be done. They're talking, almost completely ignoring his existence. Or rather, Ryker is talking and Viggo occasionally hums in response while not bothering to actually listen.

Ryker is complaining about having had to go through all of this and needing to travel all this way just to break one person.

"I told you, Viggo, you should've stuck to female. If he were one, he'd be knocked up and known his place already. Like a woman would." It's a disturbing thing to say and Hiccup feels sick to his stomach, almost counting himself lucky that he was born a male.

And now he finds himself thinking about the phrasing Ryker uses. "should've stuck to." Hiccup has had his suspicions, of course, but this means he definitely wasn't the first. And this cabin that is Grimborn property, but has gone unused through most of the year as it is far beneath their standards, and where he would have his last chance to become theirs for good, is probably a murder cabin.

Does that mean all those previous people, mostly women, but without a doubt, there were men amongst them, too, have they all been buried here? With these two, Hiccup doubts they were even allowed to identify as themselves under their roof.

No longer paying attention to the food, his gaze goes downwards and sticks to the wooden floor. Are they outside? Or is there someone beneath his very feet?

"Henry!" Viggo uses what is apparently not only a fake name for in public, but also a new and permanent name. He has to stand in a hurry to shut off the stove, the fish in the pain falling apart and burning to a crisp.

To do so, Hiccup is shoved aside and the pain falls, landing on his toes.

"Oh fuck!" A yell leaves him, his foot off the floor as a terrible pain radiates from the limb. It's cast iron, so he can expect his toes to be broken, if it's just that.

This must be the universe spitting on what remains of Hiccup haddock. What else could this possibly be?

"It's your own damn fault for being such a clutz." Ryker can't stop his chuckling. "Another reason why we should've stayed with girls, Viggo, at least they know how to cook."

"That is so insulting." Hiccup mutters as he leans on the kitchen counter, he doesn't even realize that he said anything.

But then, he's not supposed to speak unless spoken to or unless explicitly given permission. Like a dog told to bark on the command, but to otherwise keep silent.

Ryker stares at Hiccup in surprise. Meanwhile, as Viggo was trying to salvage their dinner, he stares at his pet project, too. Only then does Hiccup realize he's spoken. Those were just four simple words, but they rock all three of them.

"What was that, my Dear?" Viggo challenges him to repeat himself, to show if he's brave enough to speak up again and prove that he isn't quite as there as they first thought he was or if he'll prove that he's mistaken.

Looking up to him, Hiccup can feel his heart pounding in his ears.

"I'm-I'm just-just-I'm just saying that-that it's... that's it's- you know- sexist to think of women in such a way." Hiccup can hear his thoughts shouting at him to shut up, to finally, for once in his goddamn life, keep his trap shut if he doesn't want a repeat of last night.

But the words are out before he can stop them and his sentence isn't a mere four words like his previous one.

Does that mean... that he isn't as broken as he felt like he was?

"I suppose thinking you could still come around was a mistake." Viggo is surprisingly calm as he speaks up again. There is the undeniable undertone of anger, however.

Ryker recovers quickly, figuring he isn't entirely surprised by this turn of events.

Hiccup hasn't been given them sass for months for nothing, after all, even he recognizes that. To date, Hiccup's been the most troublesome one by far. Viggo's methods have been much too damn slow. Him and his meticulous planning... If it were up to Ryker, that boy would've been broken long ago.

But the laughs. He laughs because this means only one thing.

"You see this, Viggo? You know what this means, don't you? We get to kill that boy, after all!" He laughs, almost relieved with this surprise.

When the laughter abates, Ryker grabs Hiccup by his hoodie.

"And after we ride ourselves of you, it'll be my turn to choose your successor and I've had my sights set on a pretty lass for months already." Once again he's in his face, close enough for Hiccup to feel the spit on his skin.

Who? Who is this girl that's going to be next?

"Remember that girl of yours?" At the mention of Astrid, his eyes grow wide and he grows colder than he's ever felt than in all the time he's spent with them.

"Blond, pretty, good curves, tits, and ass, if there's something I can respect you for, it's that you have good taste. And when you're dead and buried, we'll be taking her next." Never in all his life, no matter how short it's about to be cut, has anyone ever dared to sum Astrid up using only her body.

"And don't you worry, I'll take good care of her as I personally make sure she's broken before her first month is up. I'll tell her all about y-" When Astrid and Ryker's apparent plans with her are brought up, it sparks something inside of Hiccup he thought he'd lost. The urge to punch someone in the face so hard that they lose a tooth.

So the biggest proof that he can still get up while he's down no matter what, is without a doubt when his reaction to such a horrid thing is to follow up on that urge and punch Ryker in the jaw with such strength and anger that he ends up flooring a man bigger and stronger than him.

It is... such an invigorating feeling.

"Don't you... Don't you dare talk about her like that. I don't care what happens to me anymore, but don't you dare think about hurting her, my friends, or anybody that I love the way you've hurt me!" He warns them, growing louder with every word to the point that he's shouting.

And it feels so, so good.

He wants to cry and this time out of pure relief, out of the sheer overwhelming flow of emotion coursing through him.

For once, Ryker is the one too frozen to move. Never has he been flattened by anyone before, let alone someone like Hiccup, who is looking all too energized by his achievement.

But while his attention is entirely on the elder of the two, the current object of his hatred, it's the younger one to takes action before Hiccup can get any more ideas. He uses the fallen frying pan and lifts it high before bringing it down onto his skull.

The pain erupts, but it disappears quickly as Hiccup passes out, temple connecting with the kitchen counter on the way down.

Either way, it's suddenly black before his eyes.

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

"Abysmal." Breaking the silence for the first time since they started playing, Viggo does so with an insult.

"You're not the most supportive of winners, are you? You could've at least given me an "you did your best, kiddo!" instead if giving me that." Hiccup isn't a sore loser. He can be a bit of a boastful winner at times, but he's not a sore loser. Still, when that is what he gets to hear upon losing at chess, again, he does feel a little sore.

Viggo is a very critical man, it seems.

"I would never say such a thing. You have to earn it first and your poor chess skills make me nauseous." Hiccup rolls his eyes, feeling even sorer.

His left leg is up on a chair, complaining after being on his feet all day. Maybe Astrid was right and he should've listened when she told him to come home with her. An evening with her and Snotlout, maybe even Fishlegs and the twins if they feel like coming over, definitely sounds 100 times better than this.

But Viggo is clearly a lonely man or he wouldn't be spending his after work hours on a young adult who can barely play the game he wants to play with him.

He pulls his phone out, realizing what time it is.

"I'd ask Viggo, the greatest chessplayer of all time, to teach me some of his tricks, but it's almost 11 and I haven't eaten anything yet. Astrid's going to kill me if I don't go home now." He tells his opponent, missing, the dangerous disappointment on his face. He misses it as he's texting Astrid to come to pick him up.

He's perfectly capable of walking himself home, but Astrid clearly insisted on her and his friends coming to get him, so he listens. She can get a bit overprotective of him at times ever since the whole Dagur incident and he hates worrying his loved ones.

The text message sent and slouching in the chair, Hiccup looks up to Viggo as he cleans their game up.

"A great chessplayer never just reveals its secrets, Hiccup." He tells him when he finishes and their eyes meet. "But you would do well to learn from him if you intend to survive even one game."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I need to head home myself." With the folded chessboard and work briefcase in hand, he takes his leave.

As he reaches the door, Hiccup briefly stops him.

"Sometimes being smart isn't enough, Viggo. You'll see, someday my stubborn butt will beat you!"

Hand on the door, Viggo takes a moment to look at Hiccup, who will, without mercy, roast someone so badly they'll need an actual burns unit, but somehow can't bring himself to say the word "ass." He's a funny one, for sure, and Viggo only holds so much weight to his words.

"Goodbye, Hiccup." He tells him and exits the coffee shop.

[crescent-quill-writings]

The Best Way to Break Tradition

Fandom: Hamilton - Miranda

Words: 6784

Relationship: Thomas Jefferson/Hercules Mulligan

Additional tags: Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Smut, Morning After, Modern AU

A/N: (belated) Merry Christmas, everyone! Have a happy holidays and a hopeful New Year ^-^

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

“Well, we’re here… When does your flight depart?”

“In just about an hour. I should probably go, get through security before I end up late.”

“Yeah, I guess you should…”

Every year Thomas would drive James down to the airport to catch his flight down south. Every year Thomas would try to convince his best friend to stay for the holidays, and every year James would leave to be with his family. Every year they had this conversation, and every year it ended the same way.

It was like a strange, sad Christmas tradition.

“But you still have a little bit of time, right? Do you wanna grab a farewell coffee?”

“Thomas, don’t do this,” James sighed with a shake of his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “My parents have invited me over for Christmas, everyone will be there. You know that family is complicated, I can’t just ditch them last minute.”

“And you know this isn’t easy for me,” Thomas refutes with a huff and a sharp glare that was met with crossed arms from James. “At least you’re wanted by them…”

James could only sigh again, his expression softening as he placed a hand on his friend’s arm. “They’ve always said they’d be more than happy to see you too. You don’t need to spend Christmas up here alone.”

“Family is complicated,” Thomas echoes, shaking his head as if it would physically rid him of the thought of his own family before beginning to get out of the car.

They went quiet again as James followed suit, waiting as Thomas retrieved his rolling suitcase and book bag from the trunk.

“Text me when you land?”

“Of course,” James affirmed with a nod as he took his bags. “I’ll be back just after New Years'.”

“Yeah, just like last year,” Thomas murmured with an awkward shift as he rubbed his arm. “Have a safe flight and a Merry Christmas and all that…”

James simply nodded in response as the two friends shared a final, awkward, and unsure parting glance. Thomas watched as James turned and began to walk away, not moving until the airport’s automatic doors had slid closed behind his friend.

He wasn’t sure why he always waited until James was out of sight. Perhaps he hoped that one of these years James would change his mind at the last minute, or maybe his flight would be cancelled and he’d have to stay another day.

Whatever Thomas wished for, it never came true. Just like the year before, he was always left alone as he slowly drove away.

 *~*~*~*~*~*

 A few days had passed since James had left for Virginia. Thomas never responded to any of the texts he sent, just staring at the well-wishes from down south and the photos of the Madison family’s celebrations.

With Christmas just around the corner, Thomas did his best to hide away from the holiday cheer. It was hard to be festive when you’d be spending the season alone.

“Junk, coupons, bill, junk…” He listed off his mail with a frown, flipping through the envelopes left at his door and tossing them onto his kitchen table. “… And this.”

Thomas paused as he turned the blue envelope over in his hands. He could recognize the handwriting on the back any day. It was an invitation from Lafayette to attend his annual Christmas party.

With a sigh, he moved to toss the letter in the trash. Another strange, sad Christmas tradition.

Even if Thomas knew, or at least assumed, what the invitation contained he decided to humour his foreign friend just this once. After all, what harm could some textbook holiday greetings and Christmas wishes do?

He slipped his finger under the edge of the envelope and ripped the blue paper open, tossing it in the trash. As he read, he wandered into the living room and found himself pacing in front of the fireplace.

 Mon beaux ami,

I know that you will most likely never read this like all the other years… Still, should you ever change your mind I am hosting a party for family and friends on Christmas Eve. There will be a buffet dinner, open bar, and as always, people who will be very happy to see you. All I ask is that you give it a chance. Perhaps it’ll be easier to enjoy the holidays with a companion, non?

Either way, I hope to see you at my house at seven o’clock sharp. Don’t be late!

Your friend, Gilbert

 Thomas stopped as he read over the last few lines, the paper crumpling around his fingers as his grip tightened. He’d never even considered that Lafayette took the time to personalize his invitation, nor that he would notice his absence when there were so many other people attending the party.

With a deep sigh, he rooted a hand in his curls, nodding slowly as he closed his eyes.

“Just this once… Just one little break in tradition.” He murmured to himself as he folded up the invitation and grabbed his keys.

Thomas had some Christmas shopping to do and there was only one place that’d be reliably open this late into the holiday season: the liquor store.

He knew he’d need to get something from the top shelf. It was the least he could do after all the years he’d missed. Lafayette liked sweet more than savoury, though he probably had enough wine from his home country to last a lifetime. Thomas figured a nice bourbon would do, or maybe something foreign and fancy-sounding like blue absinthe.

Thomas ended up buying both and picked up a box of Merci chocolates on his way home, just to be safe.

With a nice bag and a couple of bows, it would’ve looked like he planned this from the beginning. At least, that’s what Thomas hoped. He wasn’t sure if dessert and booze was the best way to make up for several missed Christmases, but it was the best shot he had.

 *~*~*~*~*~*

 Standing in front of Lafayette’s door with his last-minute present in one hand and the other raised to knock, Thomas still hesitated.

Luck would have it that the weather combined with a miscalculation of his GPS made him more than an hour late. Lafayette must have already assumed he wasn’t going to show up, meaning that Thomas couldn’t be sure how the Frenchman would react to him showing up. It was tempting just to turn around, forget he ever changed his mind and enjoy the booze and chocolates in the comfort of his own, lonely home.

“You’re a coward, Jefferson,” Thomas muttered as he closed his eyes, knocking on the door before he could second guess himself again.

While he waited for someone to answer he listened to the sounds of muffled conversation accompanied by occasional laughter. Whoever was inside seemed to be having a good enough time without him, and as the minutes passed with no answer he began to regret ever changing his mind about the holidays.

Just as Thomas began to turn away there was a click behind the door before it swung open. Standing there with surprise in his eyes was none other than Lafayette.

“Hi… Sorry I’m late--”

“Thomas!” The Frenchman cheered, pulling his friend into a hug that ended before it ever really began. “Do not apologize, I am just happy to see you. How long have you been standing here? Come inside, it is too cold to keep you waiting any longer.”

Thomas tried not to think too much about the hug, instead, he just smiled and let himself be happy about not having to stand out in the snow anymore. “I, uh, I got you something. It’s not much but it’s… something.”

Lafayette took the shin red bag the southerner was holding and tilted his head while he inspected its contents. “You just being here is more than enough. Let me take your coat, and please, make yourself at home.”

Thomas smiled a bit more as he shrugged off his coat, watching Lafayette walk off before he turned his gaze to the other guests.

He knew Lafayette had a big family and even larger social circles, but Thomas only recognize about a quarter of the people present. If he already felt like a third wheel, now he was no better than a stranger.

With a deep breath, Thomas slipped off his boots and tried to casually pass by the various congregations and conversations dotted around the room. He saw a drunken Alexander flirting relentlessly with a relatively sober Aaron Burr by the Christmas tree. He saw the Schuyler sisters chatting with Maria and a blonde that he assumed to be Adrienne, one of Lafayette’s childhood friends. He saw John Laurens ducking under Lafayette’s arm with a pair of champagne glasses while the Frenchman introduced him to a series of aunts, uncles, and cousins. It seemed that everyone had a friend, family member, or lover to spend their time with.

Everyone except Thomas.

With that spirit-lifting conclusion Thomas decided it best he made his way to the food and booze. He picked at some of the fondue options first, dipping a few strawberries and pineapple slices under the free-flowing chocolate before the sugar became too much. He went searching for something more savoury, only to find that either the other guests had eaten them all, or there were no savoury options to begin with.

“I knew Gil had a sweet tooth, but this is just excessive,” he muttered with a shake of his head as he turned his attention to the booze.

As he was looking through the alcoholic options, he found the bourbon and blue absinthe he’d brought with him to the party. He gave a dry laugh at the sight, shaking his head as he set down the blueberry wine he was considering and poured himself a glass of bourbon. He didn’t blame Lafayette for the decision he made, he couldn’t, and at least this way he wouldn’t feel guilty for drinking all of his friend’s booze.

It was stronger than wine anyways, and Thomas needed stronger.

He finished the first glass quickly and quietly, wanting to be drunk before he let himself try and enjoy the amber liquid. As he sipped at his second glass, he scanned the room again with a small frown. Even in a room full of happy faces and cheery conversation he was alone for the holidays.

At least he had good taste in bourbon.

As Thomas was wallowing in self-pity and jealousy a giant of a man began to approach. He browsed through his options with pursed lips, whistling when he noticed the bright bottle of blue absinthe.

The sound startled Thomas, his bourbon sloshing in his glass as he suddenly stood up straight and took in the stranger’s appearance.

Thomas had heard a lot of people described as being built like a tank but by god did this man live up to it. He was about a foot taller than Thomas, who stood at a clean 6’3” in his own right, with broad shoulders and muscular arms that could barely be contained by the classic ugly Christmas sweater he was wearing.

He realized he was staring when he made eye contact with the stranger, though the moment ended when he quickly tried to distract himself with his drink.

“Just when I thought this party could use a pick me up you show your stunning little face,” The stranger spoke as he grabbed himself a shot glass and uncapped the bottle of blue absinthe. Seeing Thomas’ confusion out of the corner of his eye he flashed the man a grin. “I was talking to the booze, not you. Unless you’d like me to call you stunning too.”

“Are you drunk?” Thomas blurts, a little put-off by how charismatically carefree the stranger was being.

“A little, but not as drunk as I will be,” He replied with a shrug before tossing back the shot and swallowing it without a quiver. “The name’s Hercules, by the way.”

“Thomas Jefferson.” The southerner introduced as he watched Hercules pour himself more of the blue absinthe to sip on. “Y’know, that stuff’s, like, eighty percent alcohol, right? It might be better to stick with the shot glasses.”

“Eh, I’m Irish, and this is a taste of home. I’ll be fine. Probably,” Hercules replied, flashing Thomas another one of his stunning grins. “Don’t know how Laf got his hands on it, though, haven’t seen any kind of absinthe since I moved over here.”

“I brought it, actually,” Thomas admitted with a small clear of his throat and a little smile, lowering his glass to meet Hercules’ gaze. “The liquor stores uptown keep some stock of fancy foreign-sounding things. Luck would have it I decided on that one.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” The Irishman replied, taking a sip of his drink before he moved to lean against the wall with Thomas.

They were quiet for a few minutes, both sipping at their respective drinks as they watched the party unfold in front of them. Alexander and Aaron had started slow dancing, much to the former’s chagrin. John was sitting on Lafayette’s lap teasing him by telling stories to a handful of the Frenchman’s siblings and their significant others. Adrienne and Maria had found a quiet corner to talk in while Eliza sat back as Peggy and Angelica flirted with Lafayette’s cousins.

“They seem to be having fun,” Hercules commented after a moment, bringing Thomas’ focus back to him.

“Yeah, seems they are…” The southerner replied with a small sigh, watching his bourbon as he twirled his glass before taking another sip. “You could join them, have fun too.”

“And miss out on the show? No thanks,” Hercules replied with a rumbling laugh, tilting his head back as he sighed before slowly shaking his head. “Really, though, they all got their own thing going on. I’d just get in the way.”

“Aren’t they your friends?” Thomas asked, lowering his glass again as he tried to decipher the far-away look in the Irishman’s eyes.

“Well, sure. I’m their rock, the ‘dad friend,’ the one they go to when they need advice, but…” Hercules trailed off for a moment, hesitating to continue before he took a drink of the blue absinthe. “That’s kinda it.”

From the way Thomas’ brow had furrowed in confusion Hercules could tell that he didn’t quite understand. With a sigh, he began to motion between his friends that made up the various couples in the room.

“Alex couldn’t tell if he was obsessed with Aaron because of love or hate before I stepped in. I told John that Gil already adored him when he was freaking out ‘cause he thought his feelings were one-sided. The Schuyler’s- Well, they don’t really need my help, but they still like to hear my advice. And just tonight I helped Maria work up the courage to introduce herself to Adr- Adrie- Blondie over there. My job is done.”

“You forgot to save someone for yourself, is that it?” Thomas concluded with a frown, watching as Hercules began to nod.

“Basically, yeah. It’s kinda sad, isn’t it?” The Irishman commented with a dry laugh before he took a swig of his drink, nearly finishing it in one gulp. “I get all these couples together and at the end of the day I’m still alone.”

“I get the feeling, sort of,” Thomas admitted as he cleared his throat, regretting trying to follow suit and finish his bourbon in one go. “Mainly the alone part… this is my first time at one of these parties, actually. Usually, I just spend the holidays holed up at home.”

“Guess this year we get to be alone together,” Hercules hummed, grinning as he knocked their glasses together before tossing back the rest of his booze. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Yeah…” Thomas murmured, only taking a small sip of his bourbon as he began to space out.

Instead of calming his nerves, the alcohol only made his anxieties worse. The southerner couldn’t reason why he’d just shared some of his biggest fears with a man he just met or why Hercules had told him most of his. It had to be sympathy, or empathy, or pity or something else like it. He was drunk, not a thesaurus! Whatever it was, Thomas had convinced himself that it would only end in him getting hurt.

“Excuse me,” Thomas spoke as he abruptly set his glass down, already beginning to walk away from Hercules before he continued. “I should- I gotta go.”

“Wait, what? Why? Was it something I said?” Hercules began to ask, but his questions fell on deaf ears.

Thomas was already lost in an ocean of his anxieties as he rushed to the front door, bumping into a few people on the way as he stumbled past congregations and couples.

He was almost at the front door when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder and met with a pair of worried eyes.

“Thomas, is everything alright? You’ve gotten yourself in such a hurry…” the Frenchman commented with a sigh, reaching to cup Thomas’ cheek and focus his gaze before his hand was pushed away.

“Nothing I just- figured I should be getting home,” Thomas replied, hoping his words weren’t too slurred as he forced a smile. “The party was good- great. I’ll drop by again next year.”

“Mon beaux, wait. Please,” Lafayette begged, grabbing onto Thomas’ wrist before he could run any father. “I’m not going to let one of my friends try to drive home drunk in this kind of weather, it’s a death wish. Stay for the night, I insist. You can go home after breakfast.”

Before Thomas could come up with something in his defence Hercules was standing behind them, awkwardly opening and closing his mouth as he tried to find something to say. “Are you… Okay?”

“Everything is fine, mon nounours,” Lafayette filled in with a little smile, though there was a glint of something coy in his eyes. “I was just telling Thomas that he should rest before he ends up too hungover. Could you do me a favour and set him up in one of the guest bedrooms? The one right next to the master should be just fine.”

“Yeah, sure, I gotcha,” The Irishman replied with a clear of his throat and a nod, looking to Thomas with an apologetic smile before placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him away from the party.

As the sound of chatter and laughter slowly faded, Thomas wasn’t sure if he wanted to curse Lafayette or thank him. He was drunk and about to be alone with a very handsome man he somehow managed to personally connect with.

Things were about to go very, very wrong or very, very right.

 *~*~*~*~*~*

 Both Hercules and Thomas were quiet, awkward as they found their way up the stairs to the bedrooms. Neither were entirely sober and Lafayette’s house, which he inherited from some rich great uncle, was large enough to make it a task for them to find the guest bedroom the Frenchman had directed them to.

“I think this one’s it,” Hercules muttered as he scratched the back of his head. “Guess that means you’re all set for the night…”

“Yeah, guess I am,” Thomas murmured, voice breathy and barely above a whisper as he rubbed his arm.

He’d gotten scared earlier because Hercules had gotten close. Now that they had been pushed back together, the thought of coming so close to… something only to end up alone on Christmas Eve again was even more terrifying.

They both opened their mouth to speak at the same time, then they shut themselves up to let the other speak first. It made them laugh, the sound was nervous and awkward yet still genuine.

Thomas made a motion for Hercules to speak first, and the Irishman obliged.

“Listen, I don’t really know what happened downstair but I know I had to have done something, so,” He started, clearing his throat a little to give him time to figure out his next words. “I guess I’m trynna say sorry? You’re a good guy- a great guy and I made a shitty first impression and I really wish I had a do-over or something right now to make it up to you.”

Hercules was rambling, whether from the alcohol or because he was genuinely nervous Thomas couldn’t tell. Still, it made him smile as he placed a hand on the Irishman’s arm to calm him down. “You’re fine, you didn’t do anything I just… freaked. No real reason for it.”

It was a lie. A little white lie, but a lie nonetheless. If Hercules pried, he could probably blame it on too much booze. Thankfully the Irishman just sighed in relief before flashing Thomas one of those carefree, charismatic grins of his.

“Guess that settles it, then.”

Their resolution was mutual, but neither made a move to leave.

Thomas kept his hand on Hercules’ arm, trying to subtly feel the muscles beneath his sleeve as the Irishman grinned and took a step closer. Nothing was ever really subtle when you’re drunk, after all.

“Is this where we’re supposed to say goodnight? Go about our lives?” Thomas asked as he traced the colourful pattern of Hercules’ sweater, coaxing him into stepping closer.

“Supposed to and have to are two very different things,” Hercules replied with a low laugh, placing a hand on the southerner’s hip. “I mean, we’re adults, we can make our own decisions.”

“That’s true, so what do you want to do?” Thomas hummed, looking up to meet Hercules’ gaze, swallowing thickly as he watches his words ignite something in the Irishman’s eyes.

There was a moment of silence as Thomas licked his lips, tightening glancing down over Hercules’ broad chest as he pulled at his sleeve. The action made Hercules laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

In a moment Thomas was gasping as he was pushed back against the door and Hercules caught his lips in a hungry kiss. He gave into it. He gave more than he thought he could into a single kiss as he clung onto Hercules’ shoulders and lifted a leg to wrap around his waist. Hercules was more than happy to help, squeezing his ass as his hands hooked under the southerner’s thighs and lifted him up off the ground.

Before it would’ve scared Thomas how easily he preened under every touch and practically purred as Hercules tugged at his lower lip with his teeth. He was vulnerable, at the mercy of Hercules’ every little whim, and he was loving it.

Every moment they spent pressed together, tongues tangled as they tugged at each other’s clothes were just as intoxicating as the absinthe on the Irishman’s lips.

Thomas was left panting as Hercules broke the kiss to run his teeth over his ear and fumbled with the doorknob as the southerner tugged at his sweater. He gave his ass another squeeze as a tease before he dropped him on the bed.

Thomas couldn’t help but whine as he lost the contact he so desperately needed, only end up swallowing thickly as Hercules made quick work of his sweater.

“Like what you see?” The Irishman laughed as he flexed his arms above his head.

Thomas would be lying if he said anything other than a resounding yes. “Fuck. You could bench press me without even breaking a sweat!”

His comment made Hercules laugh again. It started as a low rumble in his chest before it turned into a hearty bellow that vibrated within Thomas’ core. “Y’know, of all the things I’ve heard, that’s a first.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Thomas asked, shifting onto his knees as the mattress bent under Hercules’ weight.

“Nah, it’s a good thing,” The Irishman reassured as he pulled Thomas into his lap and had him straddle his hips. “Means that you’re gonna make this fun.”

His comment made Thomas laugh this time, tucking his face into the crook of Hercules’ neck. The Irishman made an almost purr-like hum in response as he wrapped his arms tight around his waist and kept Thomas close even as he began to paint bitemarks and hickeys along his jaw and down from his pulse point. All the attention was wonderful, and by god did Thomas want more, but no matter how tempting it was to tilt his head back and let Hercules have at it he couldn’t bring himself to move.

A sob echoed in the room over the sound of lips and teeth against skin. Thomas wanted to ignore it, pressing closer to the Irishman to try and coax him into continuing.

He didn’t realize that the sob came from him until Hercules pulled back with worried-looking eyes.

“You doing alright?” He asked quietly as he began, hesitantly loosening his hold.

“Yeah, I’m just fine,” Thomas replied, forcing a smile as he pretended he didn’t have to swallow back another sob to keep his words from wavering. “We’re good, we’re great. Pretty as a peach.”

The southerner wasn’t entirely making sense and he knew it, but he needed Hercules to stay more than he needed to find the right words.

“Look, you don’t gotta lie just ‘cause you feel bad for leading me on,” The Irishman tried to explain, letting Thomas go and beginning to slide off the bed to give him the space he thought he needed. “I’ll go, let you get some sleep, forget this ever-“

“No!” Thomas cried, voice a little too loud as he scrambled to grab into something of Hercules’ to make him stay.

He ended up latching onto his wrist and, though his grip was tight, he knew he couldn’t stop the mountain of a man from leaving if he really wanted to. At the very least, it gave Thomas a chance to look Hercules in the eyes one more time as tears began to drip down his cheeks.

Hercules paused, watching Thomas’ expression for a moment before he sat down on the bed again. He reached out to wipe away a few of Thomas’ tears with his thumb, cupping his cheek in the process. He couldn’t expect the southerner’s reaction.

Thomas squeezed his eyes shut, his tears now falling from his lashes as he leaned into Hercules’ touch as much as he could. He held Hercules’ hand to his cheek, lacing their fingers together as he pressed little kisses to his palm and inner-wrist.

“Just- stay. Please… I don’t care what else we do, just stay.”

Hercules hummed lowly in response, nodding as he shifted closer to Thomas and took hold of his waist again. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head over a thing, I’m right here.”

Thomas gave a small nod in response, sniffling quietly as he tried to wipe away his tears staining his cheeks with his free hand. “I’m sorry… I killed the mood, didn’t I?”

Hercules shook his head, slowly laying Thomas back onto the mattress as he slipped his hands under the hem of his shirt. “I said not to worry, didn’t I? You’re just fine and still pretty when you cry too.”

His comment made Thomas laugh, the sound a little dry and mixed with a hitch in his breath, but a laugh nonetheless. Hercules took it as a sign he was good to go, pulling Thomas into another kiss as he began to unbutton his silk shirt.

He was being gentle this time, slower and sensual yet soft. For a moment, Thomas even felt cared for. It was a funny feeling, a foreign feeling, but Thomas allowed himself to relish in it as Hercules pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor.

Now with his chest exposed Hercules occupied his mouth with painting matching marks onto Thomas’ collarbone as his fingers hooked around the waistband of both his dress pants and his boxer-briefs. Thomas couldn’t help but whine, unsure whether he liked it more when Hercules’ lips were busy with his own or when they were sucking beautiful bruises into the skin just below his throat.

Either way, he wasn’t exactly pleased when Hercules suddenly stopped and realization flash across his expression.

“I was thinking we were gonna have to do this the old fashioned way, but…” he trailed off as he reached for the nightstand, feeling around in the drawers before his fingers wrapped around a small bottle of lube. “Horny bastards.”

Thomas couldn’t help but pout as Hercules began to laugh. As much as he loved the sound, he loved the attention and affection more.

“I might not be a bastard but I am horny, and I’m right here,” he muttered, still pouting as he pawed at Hercules’ chest and kissed at the corner of his jaw. “So, can we fuck now? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Hercules was still laughing, now because of Thomas’ little plea instead of whatever he found in the nightstand. “Keep that pout up and I might make you beg for real.”

“I bet you’d like that,” Thomas murmured, pressing his forehead into Hercules’ chest as he openly trailed his open palms up his arms and down his back. “What’s so interesting anyways?”

“Just something that’ll let us get to the real fun,” Hercules replied, teasing his lips down Thomas’ torso and tugging at his waistband with his teeth. “Wanna do me a favour and help me get these off?”

Thomas was almost too eager as he quickly kicked off his dress pants before he reached for Hercules’ fly, only to stop as Hercules ran his teeth along the edge of his Adonis belt. It sent a shiver up Thomas’ spine as he was made very aware of just how hard he was. He whined, reaching for something of Hercules’ to hold to distract him from the heat rising to his cheeks.

“I’m right here baby,” Hercules murmured, voice surprisingly soft for his size as he laced his and Thomas’ fingers together. “But if you want my dick you need to let me prep ya first… I’d hate to hurt you, after all.”

Though Thomas pouted in response with another whine he reluctantly let go of Hercules’ hand and laid back. He shifted a bit as Hercules spread his legs apart, swallowing thickly as he heard Hercules pop the cap off the bottle of lube.

He was needy and nervous and on fire and shivering all at the same time. He trusted Hercules, he really did, but being left open and vulnerable he felt like a virgin.

Thomas was certainly acting like it, after all.

He went tense as Hercules pushed the first finger in, a quiet hiss slipping past his lips as he clenched around him. They’d barely begun and already Thomas’ was finding it hard to breathe.

“Relax, you’re fine. This won’t hurt,” Hercules murmured, kissing down Thomas’ calf from his knee in an attempt to calm his nerves. “It just won’t feel as good if you don’t.”

Thomas huffed quietly in response, whining quietly again. Still, he managed to force the tension out of his muscles as Hercules began to work him open.

Hercules’ fingers were this and his pace was steady as he diligently worked Thomas open. He was right, it felt much better when Hercules wasn’t fighting against artificial tension.

Even with only one finger, Thomas was panting as he tried to stay still for Hercules. With the second he was moaning, squirming as Hercules began to push deeper and press against his prostate. With the third he was gasping, both in surprise and pleasure from the stretch. Hercules’ fingers were thick to begin with, he couldn’t begin to imagine how thick his cock must be.

Luckily he wouldn’t have to try and imagine for long.

“See? that wasn’t so hard,” Hercules muttered as he pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, watching with a grin as Thomas began to whine from the loss of contact. “Your dick, on the other hand…”

He trailed off as he gave Thomas’ length an almost playful stroke, earning a sweet and needy whine as he reached for Hercules again. “Please… I want you, need you. Just-“

“Shh, I’m right here,” Hercules murmured as he pulled Thomas into a slow kiss, giving him the attention he needed while Hercules stripped himself of the last of his clothes.

The sight of Thomas beneath him and his all-too beautiful moans were enough to get him hard. All it took was a pair of quick strokes to spread lube over his cock before he was lining up with Thomas’ entrance.

“Wait,” Thomas murmured as he placed a hand on Hercules’ shoulder before he could go any farther. Nervousness beat neediness. “Hold me?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Hercules murmured with a small laugh as he took Thomas’ hand from his shoulder and laced their fingers together. “This better?”

Thomas gave a hum in response as he let out a small sigh, relaxing under Hercules’ weight as he bit his lip in anticipation for what was next.

Hercules flashed Thomas one of those charismatic, carefree grins that made his knees go weak as Hercules squeeze his hand and began to push in.

Thomas didn’t have a chance to get a good look at Hercules’ cock earlier. He didn’t think it’d matter. Now, Hercules had barely pushed two inches into him and he was already left gasping at the burning of pain and pleasure that came with the stretch.

He wanted more.

“Hercules, please- Don’t tease me now…” he whined, beginning to pout again only for Hercules to catch his lips in a kiss.

Thomas was eager to kiss back as Hercules gave his hand a sharp squeeze, making him gasp. In a moment their tongues were tied together as Hercules rocked his hips to ease Thomas into the stretch as he pushed deeper.

He didn’t stop until he was buried deep in Thomas’ ass, pressing against all the right places as Hercules groaned lowly at the tightness.

“You feel good, baby… Makes me wish I met you sooner.” Hercules muttered through the kiss before nipping at Thomas’ lower lip.

Thomas opened his mouth to respond, panting quietly as he tried to find his words. A moan lingered in the back of his throat as he clenched and unclenched around Hercules’ cock. He was starting to adjust to the burning stretch as his muscled learned to accommodate Hercules’ sheer size. Still, each rock of his hips helped reignite the spark and draw another moan from Thomas’ lips.

It was game over when Hercules began the real fun.

The first thrust made Thomas moan into the kiss. Hercules didn’t even need to try to find his prostate when his cock was so thick it pressed against everything at once. The pace he set was steady and strong, making Thomas gasp each time Hercules bottomed out just to bring back the burn of stretched-out pleasure he was desperate for.

As a hot tightness began to pull at his gut Thomas could only gasp. He squeezed Hercules’ hand as he tried to follow his movements, hips beginning to buck under the pressure and pleasure that built up with the push and pull of Hercules’ cock.

“Ha- Herc! Hercules, please~” He practically purred as a shivering moan ripped through his throat. Part of him was desperate for the pressure to give way to something even better while another part of him wanted the burn to last forever.

Hercules was getting sloppy, each thrust now accompanied with a grunt and a creak of the mattress as he pinned Thomas’ hand down next to his hand. “What’s that now? You want something?”

Thomas could only nod in response as his free hand shot up to wrap around Hercules’ neck, pulling him down into another kiss. His movements were feverish even as he gave up control and Hercules’ strong arm lifted his hips up off the bed.

“Please, I wanna- I gotta-!” Thomas couldn’t get his words out, he didn’t even know what he was trying to say anymore.

All he could think about was the perfect burn of Hercules’ cock and the building heat that made him want to burst.

Hercules seemed to contemplate Thomas’ words for a moment even as his own endurance began to wear thin. He was panting, grunting, and even a few moans of his own slipped through with the low sounds of pleasure.

“Don’t hold yourself back, baby.”

Thomas didn’t need to hear anymore. The pressure and heat unravelled like a spring wound up too tight, sending a shock of sharp pleasure through Thomas’ system as he tightened around Hercules’ cock and made a sticky, hot mess of his stomach.

It didn’t take much more before Hercules came tumbling over the edge after him, hips suddenly stilling with a sharp thrust as he came with a groan.

They laid there as a tangled, sweaty mess as they tried to catch their breath between kisses. Eventually, Hercules pulled out and fell next to Thomas on the mattress, pulling him into his chest despite the mess they’d made of each other. Thomas preened as Hercules pulled him in for one last kiss. Even after everything, there was still a faint taste of absinthe on his lips.

Thomas was still clinging onto Hercules as they separated once more. He wanted him close, he wanted to keep those strong arms around him for as long as he lived. He hadn’t felt this hopeful about someone in a long time and as he and Hercules slipped into sleep, it was all he could think about.

Hope as sweet as this would make for a good Christmas tradition.

 *~*~*~*~*~*

 Lafayette hummed quietly to himself, drumming a little rhythm against his granite countertops as his Nespresso machine finished his perfectly brewed morning coffee. It was Christmas morning and while most of his guests had gone home after the snowstorm blew over a few were resting in his various guest rooms.

As he took his festive mug from the machine and began to search his cupboards for the cinnamon sugar, he heard the sound of running water from somewhere upstairs. The Frenchman smiled to himself at the sound, knowing breakfast would be soon.

As he passed by his oven, he made sure to preheat the grill. Christmas morning crepes were one of his specialties, after all. Some of his guests stayed the night just to have a taste of the delectable breakfast treats the next morning.

While he waited Lafayette took a seat at the breakfast bar, taking a slow slip of his French vanilla latte and smiling the added hint of cinnamon. Perfect as always.

He heard two sets of footsteps start to come down the stairs together, a smirk pulling at the Frenchman’s lips at the sound. He stood, moving around to the other side of the counter and leaving his latte behind. Lafayette pretended not to have noticed the approaching pair as he busied himself with preparing the batter.

When he heard the stools shift as two more people took a seat at the breakfast bar he turned around with a sweet smile. “Bon matin, mes amis! Did you sleep well?”

Hercules gave a small grunt as Thomas mumbled some unintelligible response. They both looked tired despite having a full night's sleep, obviously hungover.

Thomas seemed to be a little more careful with himself as he sat down, shaking some water droplets from his curls. Hercules, well, he was shirtless and not-so-subtly smirking at how Thomas crossed one leg over the other as he tried to find a way to sit comfortably.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lafayette replied, smiling more at the sight and humming under his breath to pretend he was simply happy because it was Christmas. “I am glad you two made friends. That is what you did, non?”

“You could call it that, yeah,” Hercules muttered with a low laugh as he stretched his arms above his head. Considering he was shirtless and still damp from the shower, it was quite the sight.

Thomas was trying not to stare, lowering his head into his hands as he rubbed his eyes. “Uhm… Breakfast, coffee! Are we gonna be able to have either of those?”

“Very soon, mon beaux,” Lafayette replied, a coy twinkle appearing in his eyes as he rested his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his folded hands. “But first, I think you two have some secrets to spill~”

[cats-obsessions]

The Survey Never Lies

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion Modern au, something fluffy

Read on ao3

Summary:

Jaskier convinces Geralt to try Speed dating. The results are not what either of them expected.

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Geralt isn’t exactly sure what possessed him to agree to this. It’d been a rough past few months, with contracts being few and far between, and when they came, they were truly the worst. To say that this dry spell had extended to other areas in his life was an understatement; even Yennefer was able to move on by now after their latest, seemingly permanent, breakup. ‘Move on’ might be an understatement- enough time had passed for Yennefer to go into full-blown party mode, get over it, begin a new and honestly adorable relationship with their mutual friend Triss, and make up with him to the point of being hostile friends again.

That is to say, it has been a long time.

With next to no money and even less company, even Geralt could admit he has been feeling down. And yet, of course, Jaskier was always there right beside him through it all. It was always that way. Which is precisely why he got himself into this mess.

Initially, when the troubadour had suggested they try speed dating, Geralt was quick to strike the idea down. He’d already gone through the pains of using that awful dating app at Jaskier’s insistence, and he wasn’t about to have a rerun of that disaster. But then, Jaskier started to frame it as if he was the one that needed a date, and Geralt accompanying him would just be a favor- just to keep him company if it was boring, and to keep him safe if things went wrong. Geralt knows that was just a ploy to make him go, but between that and big blue puppy dog eyes, he found himself reluctantly agreeing.

Jaskier did not, however, tell him how horrible it would be. ‘it won’t take long’. Bullshit. Over an hour of small talk with strangers, and Geralt feels like he wants to crawl out of his skin. The establishment isn’t the finest, either. Everything is cheap- 90s music playing on shitty speakers grate on his eardrums, dimmed florescent lighting and fake candles on every table make it feel morel like a pizza parlor than a romantic dinner. And then there’s the people.

They’ve been paired into groups based on some benign personality survey they were forced to take when they got there, then paired off for short conversations. Five-minute sessions are timed on a buzzer, each blessed ring marking the end of the conversation, and bringing with it another stranger. They’re awkward at best and insufferable at worst.

It’s Geralt’s personal nightmare incarnate.

The best conversation he’s had all night was about one woman’s five cats. The worst was probably when a man tried to lean across the table and grab at his medallion without asking and Geralt found himself releasing an inhuman snarl before he could stop himself. The poor guy ended up hiding in the bathroom for the remaining duration of their five minutes, but that’s what he gets for trying to touch people, especially a witcher, without asking.

Even the cheap beer doesn’t make it better. When the timer dings, and all the participants in the room begin to shuffle to new tables, Geralt takes a moment to look down at his glass, taking a long, long sip of tasteless beer. By the time he has glanced up again, Jaskier is seating himself across the table, wine glass in hand. The bard flashes him a toothy grin, leaning in closer, propping his elbows on the scratchy, off-white tablecloth. As per usual, his button down shirt is left undone far too low, exposing a far too distracting patch of chest hair that Geralt most certainly doesn’t stare at, nor do his eyes slowly trace up exposed skin of his collar bones and neck to the slight blush tinging his cheeks.  

“So, how’s it going, my friend? Found the new Mrs. Rivia, or Mr., though, I suppose it’s not guaranteed he’d take your last name. Not that it’s guaranteed with a woman, either. You could take her name. Though, I do like yours- better than my own, actually.”

Geralt glances away, trying his best to hide his smirk at Jaskier’s prattling, “Hm.”

“Oh, come on now, use your words. We’ve talked about this. You’re not going to find someone when I’m the only person that understands your unintelligible grunting.” Jaskier chides, though it is true. Somehow, over the years since they met in that shitty bar in Pasoda, Jaskier has come to understand the witcher well- better than most. Where other humans shy away from him, Jaskier became stuck to him, following him on hunts and writing songs about their adventures- reluctant at first, he’s now thankful for the bard.

Geralt sighs “This is hopeless, Jaskier.”

“No, it’s not!”

“It is. They’re all- ugh, I don’t know.” Geralt rubs his hand over his face, “They’re all either freaked out by me or oblivious to what I am, and they just talk about their normal lives and normal jobs and- and how Geofry from accounting fucked things up again, while I’m sitting here thinking last week I was swallowed by a fuckin’ kikimora. I don’t fit in here.”

“That was horridly disgusting, but lots of people are into adventurous men. What about Eveline? She seemed amenable.” Jaskier gestures to the woman a few tables down with long red hair. Yes, she had found Geralt attractive, in dim lighting which hides his scars and expands his pupils into circles rather than slits, but that doesn’t translate to companionship, or even a night of fun. Yet, Jaskier is always the optimist, “There’s still hope yet!”

Geralt shakes his head “Easy for you to say. You don’t need to go speed dating to find someone. Everyone likes you.”

“As flattering as that is, I think, there’s nothing wrong with speed dating. Anyone who isn't interested in you is a fool. Besides, it's not always that easy for me! I’m looking for something a bit more committed this time. Not that I didn’t have great affections for my previous romances. Just…” Jaskier trails off, tongue sticking out slightly as he looks for the right terms.

“Momentarily and in measured amounts?”

“Mm,” Jaskier hums in agreement.

“Infatuation has to wear off some time.”

“So I’ve been told. Seems some hang around longer than others though,” He mutters. He casts his eyes down as if in thought, his ever-moving hands finding the rim of his wine glass, a long finger tracing it in a way that emits a high-pitched noise the musician likely isn’t even aware of. Geralt grunts, frowning slightly as he grabs Jaskier’s hand to remove it from the glass. The bard lets himself be moved easily, fingers warm and inviting under the witcher’s touch.

“Noise,” he grumbles.

Jaskier smiles apologetically, “Ah, witcher hearing. Sorry, my dear.”

His fingers tap on the tabletop, looking for something to fidget with in the wine glass’ absence. He finds the long-abandoned conversation que cards so kindly provided by the event’s organizers, as if they knew rightfully well how miserably uncomfortable this predicament would be.

“Have you looked at these at all tonight?” he asks, picking them up to glance through them.

“Tried not to. They’re deplorable.” Yet, the well-worn corners of the cards attest to how many attendees truly rely on them.

Jaskier smiles coyly “You’ve been showing people pictures of your lovely lady Roach again haven’t you?”

“Maybe” he blushes, both of them chuckling. “People like horses”

“Mm, that would only be a good pick-up tactic if she didn’t bite strangers.”

“She’s shy.” He defends, though he knows she’s not. She’s just picky; she’s never tried to bite Geralt, or Eskel or Vesemir for that matter. These days, she likes Jaskier enough to let him ride her when they visit her stables at Vesemir’s farm.

Jaskier glances to the clock, red numbers counting down the seconds until he will be subjected to yet another stranger. “We still have a bit of time, want to try these dumb questions?”

“Is silence not an option?” Geralt groans, though not without the hint of a smile on his lips.

Jaskier swats at him lightly, ignoring the comment. He flips through the cards, reading a few under his breath “What color is your personality? That’s dumb- yours is blue, obviously, and mine is yellow. Hmm, Ah, here’s one.” Geralt tilts his head, waiting “Describe your best friend.”

He can’t help but snort at that “Annoying.”

“First of all, rude. Second of all, appropriate answers could have included handsome, funny, talented, brilliant, loyal” Jaskier counts his claimed attributes on his fingers, likely to go on forever lest Geralt interrupt.

“Reckless, frivolous-” He jumps in, a teasing, toothy grin on his face.

“Fun. Fun is the term you’re looking for. It doesn’t matter though. I know you adore me.”

There’s too much truth in the words; though he wouldn’t hesitate to call Jaskier his friend -his best friend- adoration is a strong word, a word unknown to many witchers. Yet, he can’t deny the way Jaskier makes his heart fill with warmth, makes him feel alive and safe like he never has before. But that is something he’d much rather keep to himself. Geralt looks away, surely blushing as he lets a curtain of white hair falls in front of his face, hopefully hiding the pink tinge.

Jaskier watches him quietly, that soft warm expression in his eyes that somehow seems to be reserved for the witcher. A moment of silence passes before he snaps out of it, only a few seconds left on the clock “Wanna get out of here?”

At that, Geralt perks up, “I could use a real drink, but what about your search?”

“I don’t think I’ll find the one in this crowd,” he says, looking out on the group, a disappointed little pout pulling at his lips for just a moment before he turns back to Geralt, ever bright smile returning to his face.

Geralt nods, standing up and slipping on his jacket in preparation to leave. He catches Jaskier’s eyes roaming over him for a moment before the bard diverts his gaze, catching his lip between his teeth. Geralt does his best to focus on anything else. Whatever warmth or fluttering feelings it may give him, he knows he’s just imagining his friend’s interest.

They almost make it out with everyone around them shuffling to new tables. But, of course, they’re stopped by the group coordinator. They’d met him when they came in- a young man far too invested in this program, reciting his company provided lines with an unnatural enthusiasm.

“Looks like you two are having a good time. I’m glad to see some real sparks fly tonight! Sneaking off already?” the man grins, a little too much, as he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, we were just-” Jaskier begins, laughing slightly under his breath.

“No, don’t tell me- for liability reasons and such. But good news!” he exclaims, “According to our survey, you two are our most compatible couple of the night, and the survey never lies!”

“Of course, we-” He’s cut off again, and next to him, Jaskier cringes.

“Which means, if you’re interested and it certainly seems like you are, you have won our luxury romance date package!”

“I think there’s been a mis- Sorry, what?” Geralt stops as the boy pushes a bright pink, sparkling gift card into his hand.

“$200.00 to the White Orchard, free drinks included and guaranteed reservations within the month. All you have to do is go together, have fun, and discover the romance of your lives!” The boy’s smile doesn’t falter as he continues to speak. “I’m legally obligated to tell you we have not run background checks on anyone.”

“But we’re-” Jaskier tries to speak, but not before Geralt can stop him.

“Excited!” Geralt grins, grabbing Jaskier’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Thank you!”

$200 is $200. He’s not about to let the first chance he’s had at a fine dinner in who knows how long go by because of Jaskier’s big mouth. So, with that, he leads the bard outside, their hands still firmly grasped together, and pointedly doesn’t think about why his thumb is rubbing circles into the back of his best friend’s hand. Nor does he consider how well their fingers fit together. He certainly doesn’t notice the disappointed pang in his chest when their hands separate as they step out into the cold night air outside.

One glance between them and their prize, and neither of them can stifle their laughter. “I can’t believe you almost said no to the nicest restaurant in town.” Geralt chides, elbowing Jaskier lightly as they begin to walk home.

“I can’t believe it either. It’s like the offer didn’t register in my brain yet.” Jaskier chuckles.

Geralt rolls his eyes at him “Seems to happen a lot.”

Jaskier deliberately ignores him, instead leaning over his shoulder to look at the gift card, still cradled in Geralt’s hand “It is ‘luxury romance’” Jaskier snickers, “We may have to keep up this act a bit longer.

“Apparently it’s not too difficult.” Geralt sneers “Some survey. Of course, we match; we spend all our time together.”

Jaskier’s chuckles quiet down, a silence hanging between them as he seems to think it over, “I have known you longer and more deeply than any other in my life. There’s no one I’m more comfortable with.”

“And I you.” He doesn’t often admit such things, but somehow in the silence of the night, with the way Jaskier had stated it so gently, he can’t help but know he truly means it when he agrees. After the silence becomes too heavy, Geralt clears his throat “Anyways, it’ll be fun.

“Yea, fun.”

Somehow, Jaskier’s voice comes out flat, preoccupied. When Geralt glances over at him, his lip is caught between his teeth again, his face scrunched in deep contemplation. It’s not a long walk back to their apartments, their complexes within walking distance of each other. Geralt doesn’t push, silence between them doesn't normally bother him after a night of so much noise. But try as he might, he can't help but wonder if Jaskier is bothered by the implication they were- could be a couple. Instead, he tries to focus on the sounds of the city, cool air blowing around them, leaves crinkling as they skip across the cement sidewalk.

When they approach Jaskier’s apartment complex, they stop in front of the old brick stairs leading inside, and Geralt waits for either an invitation inside or a declaration that Jaskier has changed his mind about drinks. He looks… uneasy. His hands are shoved into his pockets, and he shifts back and forth on his feet.

“Um, Geralt?” Jaskier says, voice uncertain for once.

“Hm?”

“I, um,” Geralt barely has time to see Jaskier stop biting his lip before suddenly his lips are on Geralt’s, his hands in his hair, caressing, not forceful. The witcher could pull away without much of a fuss, but he finds himself pulling Jaskier in by his waist, holding him tightly as if he’s afraid he’ll lose him if he lets go.

The kiss is equal parts gentle and desperate. He feels like he’s on fire; he feels like there’s electricity running through him, between them, and- and butterflies in his stomach, for maybe the first time in his life. It’s all so new and different, but he finds he doesn’t mind- not one bit.

When Jaskier pulls away, he finds his head feeling light “Jask,” he breathes lightly, their noses bumping each other lightly.

“Sorry, I-” Jaskier moves to step back, a spark of caution and panic glimmering in his eyes, as if he hadn’t felt Geralt’s desire in their embrace. “I thought-” he begins, but Geralt pulls him back in.

“I didn’t say stop.” He smiles softly, bringing up one hand to cup Jaskier’s cheek. It relaxes the bard, all the tension melting away to be replaced by a mischievous smile as the witcher pulls him into another kiss.

****

Rays of morning sun beam through the windows of Jaskier’s apartment, illuminating every inch of it. Below, the city is bustling with noise, but here, things are peaceful. Geralt woke up first, no surprise there. He would have been more than content to stay in bed all day, wrapped tightly in his lover’s embrace- the thought of that word describing Jaskier brings a smile to his face. But cursed with his witcher metabolism, he was dragged out of bed by a growling stomach.

Rummaging through Jaskier’s kitchen for breakfast, he barely notices the other man enter the room. When he turns around, Geralt is met with striking blue eyes watching him intently as Jaskier leans against the counter, dressed in his boxers and a hoodie he’d stollen from Geralt long, long ago. Geralt chooses not to dwell too much on the thought that he’s been sleeping in it all this time- for now, anyways.

“What are you so smug about?” Geralt grins, abandoning his task to invade Jaskier’s space.

The musician smiles, unabashedly staring as he runs his hands over Geralt’s exposed chest, settling above the hem of the sweat pants he snatched from Jaskier’s closet this morning, “Who wouldn’t be smug after getting a boyfriend as beautiful as you?” Even though they kissed all through the night, Jaskier’s lips on his send a shiver down his spine.

“You know what they say.” Geralt murmurs, kissing his way down to Jaskier’s neck.

As he presses dark marks into the pale skin of his throat, Jaskier only breathlessly hums in response “Hm?”

“The survey never lies.” He quotes mockingly.

Jaskier snorts, shoving at Geralt’s shoulder playfully, but the witcher doesn’t budge, only nuzzling in closer against his neck. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Very.”