#roll in the hay and sometimes they don’t but it’s always their decision

[lilnasxvevo]

My favorite dumbass headcanon is that all the apparently unmarried sect leaders post-timeskip actually ARE married and it just doesn’t come up. Nie Huaisang has like 3 kids it’s just not relevant to the story

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

Welcome to Faerieland - Fan Fic (last chapters)

Here we go! Last chapters of Welcome to Faerieland.

Link to full story on AO3 here.

*****

Dru and Ash landed a mile or so away from their destination, in order to avoid drawing attention to the location. As soon as their feet touched the ground, the two rocs turned around and disappeared above the treetops.

“I can walk,” Dru said and Ash offered his arm to steady her while she limped toward the general direction of the cottage. She knew it pretty well, it had sort of become a Blackthorns’ country home.

“So how do you know this place?”

“My eldest brother is dating the King of the Unseelie Court, and that’s where they meet sometimes.”

Ash whistled.

“One of your brothers is King Kieran’s lover? I think I heard about him.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty serious, although they won’t ever be able to be official about it. I guess you know what the rules are about faerie royalty’s consorts?”

“I do,” he averted his gaze and brushed a hand through his hair, in what seemed to be a nervous gesture. Dru realized it was the first time Ash had looked uncomfortable about a subject.

“A lot of rules need to be changed,” he said abruptly. “Don’t you agree?” His green eyes bore into her as he said it, as if he was desperate for her approval.

“Well, King Kieran has already been carrying out a lot of changes since he came to power. It’s just that… sometimes, it takes time. You can’t change the world overnight.”

Ash kicked a pebble. “You could, if you didn’t insist on everything being consensual. Maybe King Kieran cares too much about what people think of him... or, you know, in general.” He shrugged but there was a predatory glint in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before, and it almost made her cringe.

“You know, Ash, if what you are looking for in a sovereign is arbitrary decisions and a bitchy attitude, we have the Seelie Queen for that.”

She had expected Ash to laugh, his free, careless laugh - God, she loved it when he did that - but he seemed lost in thought.

She had to admit she had been a bit harsh. She knew the Seelie and Unseelie Courts were in much better terms now that King Arawn was dead. The Queen had appointed the Unseelie Prince Adaon as her most trusted advisor and the two of them and King Kieran met regularly to reinforce the bonds and cooperation between both realms.

Dru started humming a song and Ash paused, his green eyes widening. “Are you singing… Royals ?”

“Yeah, I love that song. Do you know it?”

“I do,” he answered, suppressing a smile.

As they walked, she sang louder - she knew the lyrics by heart - and he watched her with glittering eyes, clearly entertained.

“And we'll never be royals It don't run in our blood That kind of luxe just ain't for us We crave a different kind of buzz Let me be your ruler You can call me queen bee”

“Maybe I will,” he whispered in her ear as he tickled her, and she elbowed him playfully.

He sang along with her then - he had a beautiful tenor voice - both of them throwing their heads back at the same time to howl at the sky “And baby, I'll rule - I’ll rule, I’ll rule, I’ll rule” , like a pair of wolves. They roared with laughter, Dru holding her ribs and leaning against Ash for support. Watching him from the corner of her eye, she marvelled at the fact that she had found a new friend in such a short time.

At the Academy, people either feared her because she was a Blackthorn or wanted to be friends with her simply for that same reason. Or both. She was almost a celebrity, despite herself. Only because of her last name and her eldest brothers’ hand in ending the Cold Peace in the most spectacular way. And of course, there were always the loud-mouthed bigots and moralists who were baffled by the Blackthorns’ ties with the Fair Folk and their so-called “sexual and moral depravity”. The Rosales, of course, suffered the same criticism, and Jaime had always been a comforting shoulder and reliable friend to Dru in those moments where she felt she had had too much to deal with.

She didn’t want to worry Julian, Emma, Mark or even Helen with her troubles making friends at the Academy.

She couldn’t confide in Ty, because he didn’t care at all what people thought, and was content with sticking to his close friends, Livvy and Anush. His teachers, especially Ragnor Fell and Catarina Loss were absolute fans - even if Fell would never admit it - and everyone at the Scholomance was too impressed by his obvious academic superiority - and maybe, the Carpathian lynx tailing him - to dare bother him anyway.

Ash seemed to be far away from all of this, as if he had been living as a hermit in a remote tower, which was probably close to the truth.

He was the only one outside her siblings, with the exception of Jaime of course, to treat her like an ordinary girl.

And maybe, maybe someday Ash could become more than a friend. He was nice, definitely fun, absolutely gorgeous and he had kissed her after all, even though she knew it could be meaningless where faeries were concerned. She had been waiting for Jaime to figure things out for so long, and Ash had appeared out of nowhere and had shown interest without a moment’s hesitation.

She was interrupted in her thoughts as a broad-shouldered silhouette falling from the sky dropped on the ground before them. Dru released Ash’s arm to clap both her hands on her mouth, relief washing over her. Kit, looking as angelic as ever with his bright blue eyes and tousled blond hair, fluttered his white wings tipped with gold as he advanced gleefully to greet Dru.

The reunion was cut short as he was suddenly thrown back by a figure shooting straight into him like a cannonball and from one moment to the next, Kit disappeared into a ball of black and white feathers, rolling on the grass.

It took Dru a moment to realize that Ash had disappeared from her side and that he was actually the one who had attacked Kit. She ran to separate them but soon they were shooting up, caught in a wrestling match a few feet above ground, moving so swiftly they were a blur.

Dru let out a heavy sigh before she put two fingers between her lips and whistled as loud as she could. The two figures froze - they were still grappling each other - and looked down.

“ASH! KIT! Both of you. Get down here! NOW.”

They both looked at each other.

“ASH! What the hell is wrong with you, this is my brother’s boyfriend !” Dru continued, gesturing frantically toward Kit.

Ash released Kit first, grudgingly, and they both landed softly on the floor. There was a long gash across Ash’s cheek but he was grinning like the Cheshire cat, his eyes glittering in excitement. He winked at Dru as he wiped blood from his mouth. Kit was rearranging his hair, looking pissed, and Dru realized that his knuckles were bloody and that there was a small cut on his eyebrow. Both of them seemed otherwise unharmed.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Batman ?” Kit said, glaring at Ash.

“Sorry,” Ash replied, wiping dirt from his shirt. “I took you for a psychopathic jerk who nearly killed me a few years ago. He literally kicked me and my uncle out of the place we used to live in. You look exactly like him.”

“Well, it can’t have been me since last night was the first time I ever saw you,” Kit replied sharply, wiping his bloody knuckles over his shirt.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I figured that out pretty fast. You fight like a pussy compared to him.”

“Want to say that again?” Kit lifted an eyebrow at him.

“Boys, could you please stop comparing the sizes of your dicks, so we can move on?”

Ash and Kit complied, arguing over which Batman movie was best the entire way, until the cottage came into view, a few feet away. The door opened and Jaime came out of it, running toward them.

“Dru,” he cried out. He caught up to her, and threw his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. She lost herself in his familiar and comforting scent and pressed her cheek against his torso. “Mi corazón,” he whispered softly. "We were worried sick. Cómo estás?”

Jaime brushed his hands through Dru’s hair and planted a kiss on her forehead.

She swiftly pulled back, her eyes darting to where Ash was leaning against a tree, talking to Kit, his arms crossed. He was smiling indulgently at her, as if he didn’t mind.

“I am fine, thanks to Ash,” she said, and pulled Jaime over to where Ash and Kit were standing. “Jaime, this is Ash. Ash, this is Jaime,” she introduced, waving her hand awkwardly between the two of them.

“Thank you for taking care of our precious Dru,” Jaime said, extending his hand. “We owe you one.”

“No hay de qué!” Ash replied, shaking his hand.

“Hablas español?” Jaime asked, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Solo a hombres con un excelente gusto en mujeres.” He gave Jaime a wicked grin and looked pointedly at Dru. Jaime’s face fell.

A high-pitched shriek had them whip their heads up in time to see a majestic roc land on the ground, a few feet away. Ty hopped gracefully from the giant bird and walked immediately to Dru. He was pale - even more so than usual - with deep dark circles under his gray eyes, and Dru marvelled at how gorgeous her brother was anyway, whatever state he was in. She sometimes wished she had inherited the same stunningly sharp features. Without a word, Ty knelt in front of Dru and started inspecting her wound.

“Ash, this is my brother Ty,” Dru announced proudly.

Ash started to extend his hand but Dru shook her head at him. He let it fall by his side.

“Ty, this is Ash.”

Tiberius nodded without lifting his gaze.

“Who tended to the wound?”

“I did,” Ash answered.

Ty finally stood - and Dru realized Ash was almost as tall as Ty, which was saying something, since Ty was very tall - and glanced at Ash for the first time, his gray eyes looking down under his long eyelashes and not lifting up from a spot on Ash’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he said curtly.

Hesitantly, Ty put his arms around Dru in one of the rare hugs he had ever granted her. It was awkward and short, but Dru knew it meant Ty had been truly terrified of losing her.

After they released each other, Ty whirled and started walking toward the cottage. He paused after a few steps and glanced over his shoulder. The four of them had just been standing there, staring at him. “Are you coming?”

They all hurried after Ty, Dru having one arm around Ash’s, and the other around Jaime’s.

“So, tell me. Are all your brothers this handsome?” Ash asked her, as he looked Ty up and down appreciatively.

“EXCUSE ME? “ Kit interjected. His whole face had gone bright red in an instant and he started cracking his bloody knuckles. He looked poised for a second round.

“What? Did I say something wrong?” Ash did not seem in the least bit concerned by Kit’s reaction.

“It’s my boyfriend you are talking about.”

“And I just said I found him attractive. Is that in any way offensive?”

Dru laughed. “No,” she said. “I am sure you were simply stating your opinion and not trying to steal Kit’s boyfriend.”

“I am not trying to steal anyone’s lover,” Ash concurred, gazing wistfully at Dru. ”I just admire beauty when I see it”.

“But he would definitely be up for sex if Ty wanted to,” Jaime muttered sarcastically under his breath.

Ash shot him a puzzled look. “Of course, I would. Why not? Kit would be welcome as well, the more the merrier.”

Kit opened his mouth but seemed too much in a shock for a witty comeback. That was a first.

Oddly enough, Dru realized she didn’t feel jealous or baffled by Ash’s statement. He was like an untamed bird breaking out of a cage, unwilling to bend to any rules of propriety. She guessed part of it was due to his fey heritage.

“Mark is the Unseelie King’s lover, the Seelie Queen keeps trying to get into Julian’s pants and now you two,” Jaime said eventually, looking over at Ty and Dru. “What is it with the Blackthorns and the Fair Folk anyway?”

“Probably the exact same thing there is with Blackthorns and any other species,” Ash said evenly.

Everyone turned a questioning look at him.

“They are hot,” he said simply, and shrugged.

Everyone laughed at that.

*****

They were all starving so they decided to have breakfast in the cottage before heading back home.

Kit, wearing an apron that had "Doughnut sandwiches are a proper meal” printed on it (and that probably belonged to Mark Blackthorn), was in the kitchen, scrambling a huge portion of eggs in a large pan with a wooden spoon. He somehow managed to make it look totally hot.

“Eggs?” Ty asked Kit as he came to stand next to him and put a hand on the small of Kit’s back.

“Yeah, I would have cooked pancakes, but we are missing a few ingredients to do that. So it will be eggs. Eggs and fruits. God knows there are plenty of fruits here.”

“You know how to cook pancakes?” Ty asked, his gray eyes widening in surprise.

Kit shot him a shy glance.

“Yeah, I… I asked Julian for his recipe. You know, in case one day I needed to cook for you…r family.”

Kit and Ty both exchanged a look that was so intimate, Jaime had to glance away. He found Ash leaning casually against the fridge, his arms crossed, and gazing at him with a smirk on his face. He looked like he owned the place and hadn’t just popped uninvited into the home of strangers. When Jaime raised a questioning eyebrow at him, Ash unfolded his arms to draw the shape of a heart in the air in front of him. Jaime rolled his eyes. He definitely didn’t like this guy.

They set the table, while Dru was in the bedroom looking for clothes.

Kit and Ty sat next to each other, their fingers intertwined under the table and their backs to the kitchen counter, which left Ash to sit across from Ty and Jaime to sit across from Kit. They had left a spot at the head of the table for Drusilla, who would have Ash on her left and Ty on her right when she came back.

Ty only had fruits on his plate, and he was eyeing Kit gulping his eggs down, as if he was reconsidering having some himself.

“Want to try?” Ash brought his fork to Ty, who flinched as if he had been stabbed.

Kit grabbed Ash’s wrist and pushed the fork away from Ty.

“Ty can use my fork if he wants to try it. He is my boyfriend, after all.”

Ash shrugged. “Yeah, no worries, I think I got that. You can tattoo it on your forehead, it will spare you from having to repeat it to every living soul you encounter on Earth.”

Ash glanced at Jaime, and said in a lower voice, directed only at him. “And it will keep other people from pining for someone they can’t have.”

“Excuse me?” Jaime turned to whisper in Ash’s ear. “What does it have to do with Dru and me?”

“I was not talking about Dru,” Ash whispered back.

They both jerked their heads up, as Dru swooped in from the bedroom then, wearing a beautiful red dress that Jaime remembered having seen on Cristina. It was much tighter on Dru, clinging to her curves and emphasizing her cleavage. Jaime swallowed. He couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on in his head.

Ash immediately stood to draw Dru’s chair and she nodded by way of thanking him. She sat on it as if it was a throne, her chin up.

Jaime glanced over at Ash, who seemed so free about his sexuality, and felt a pang of envy.

“So, what’s your deal, Ash?” Jaime blurted. Ash raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Are you…” Jaime cleared his throat. “Bixesual?”

A slow grin spread across Ash’s face. “We’ve just met and you’re already trying to fill your fact sheet about me and tick one of your little boxes?”

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Jaime said, feeling uncomfortable.

“I know you didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I am not offended by your question,” Ash continued in a gentler voice. “It’s just that… not everyone can fit into little boxes.” He swiftly glanced at Ty when he said it. It was a flicker movement, but lynx-eyed Ty caught it immediately.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Tiberius said. “I am definitely gay.” He slipped half a banana inside his mouth then, totally oblivious of the gesture. Kit and Ash weren’t though. Kit made a noise between a snort and a chuckle and spilled the water he was drinking through his nose and all over his shirt, while Ash almost fell off his chair roaring with laughter. Dru looked at the boys with motherly affection.

Jaime stood and hurried to the kitchen to get a towel to clean the mess. When he turned, Kit was already there, leaning against the kitchen counter, extending his hand and looking at Jaime with a genuine smile that lit up his gorgeous face.

“Thanks, Jaime,” he said, as he grabbed the towel and started padding his shirt with it. The planes of his muscles stood out and could be seen right through the wet fabric.

“No problem,” Jaime mumbled, feeling his heartbeat increasing inside his chest.

He averted his gaze, past Kit, to the table, where Ty and Dru had their heads bent together, caught in a deep conversation.

Ash was peering around Ty, watching Jaime with amusement. When he caught Jaime gazing back, he stuck his tongue inside his cheek, and started moving his fist back and forth in front of his mouth, miming a blowjob.

Jaime resisted the urge to flip him the finger.

****

When breakfast was over, Dru lay sprawled on a sofa, her leg propped on Jaime’s lap, and Ash was examining the sound system, so he could put music on.

Kit and Ty had disappeared. God only knew where.

“So, what was that demon attack in the middle of Faerie about?” Jaime asked.

“Ty has a theory. And you won’t like it,” Dru replied. “He believes the Unseelie prince who held us hostage has made an alliance with a Greater Demon… probably a Prince of Hell.”

Jaime tensed. If Ty believed this, it was very bad news indeed. “So why send an army of demons to attack an ally?”

Dru twirled a lock of her dark brown hair as she replied. “Two options. Either the Prince of Hell discovered that his ally had been exposed and wanted to silence him. Or… or we will soon be caught in the middle of an internal war between the Princes of Hell.”

“You mean… there might be more than one involved?”

“To quote Ty, evidence makes it more likely than not,” Dru replied, imitating her brother’s voice. Jaime felt dread wash over him.

He gently put Dru’s leg on an armrest and excused himself.

Sometimes, he felt so anxious it was all he could do not to curl up in a corner and wait for his chest pain and dizziness to fade. The mission he had carried out a few years back, where he had to stay hidden all the time, never staying in one place, had made him jumpy, poised for any threat. He didn’t want Dru to see that side of him. For her, he could only be the calm and reliable friend she was used to.

He decided to scout the rest of the cottage for an empty room. There was a corridor - leading to a bathroom? more bedrooms maybe? - on the left side of the main suite’s door.

He went through and just as he turned around a corner... stopped short.

Halfway down the corridor, Ty was leaning with his back against the wall and Kit had his hands propped on either side of him, trapping Ty in a cage of his arms… and they were kissing.

Jaime had never seen two men kissing before and he was surprised to see how tender and sweet it looked. Ty was running his long pale fingers in Kit’s blond hair while the other hand rested on the small of Kit’s back, half of it concealed under Kit’s waistband.

Kit was naked from the waist up and Jaime could see all the tanned muscles in his back contract as he deepened the kiss, eliciting soft moans from the Blackthorn boy.

They were beautiful together, two opposites inevitably drawn to each other, their bodies fitting perfectly like yin and yang.

Jaime felt his whole body react, with a familiar flutter around his stomach and heat rushing up his cheeks. He knew he should not be watching, but he couldn’t get himself to tear his gaze away.

Kit broke the kiss to trace the dark Marks swirling up Ty’s neck with the tip of his tongue. Ty’s gray eyes fluttered open and he caught sight of Jaime. His intense gaze didn’t waver. He didn’t even seem surprised or angry. He simply raised an eyebrow at Jaime as if to say Can I help you with something ?

Jaime hastily retreated to the living room.

He found Ash’s lean figure perched on the wide low table at the center of the room, dancing to the blasting sound of Beyoncé’s Single Ladies and singing along. “If you like it, you should have put a ring on it,” actually sounded very good in his velvety voice. He was twisting, hands on his hips, and throwing his legs up like a professional, while making dramatic faces at Dru, who was sprawled on the sofa, howling with laughter. As he brushed his lips with his finger, licking it and started caressing his torso while throwing his head back, shaking his beautiful silvery hair, he managed to make it look erotic and not ridiculous at all. Jaime had to admit… His moves were perfect, fluid, coordinated and he totally… pulled it off. Annoying jerk.

“Having fun without me?” Kit burst into the room - he was, fortunately, wearing a shirt this time - and immediately hopped on the table to join Ash and one could not imagine they had been wrestling less than an hour before.

When Dru caught Jaime watching them, she patted the spot on the sofa next to her and he moved to drop beside her, throwing his arm around her shoulders.

The music had changed to Rihanna’s S&M and Ash and Kit were dancing together as if they had rehearsed for hours, their dance steps coordinated and smooth. They looked like two lifelong best buddies who could guess each other’s moves. They were pulsing with energy, although obviously neither of them had slept the previous night. Ash made a show of licking Kit’s cheek, and Kit pushed him away, grimacing. When Ash arched his back to rub his buttocks against Kit’s crotch and Kit spanked him, Dru wiped tears from her eyes. Jaime imagined what it would be like to go to a nightclub with the both of them. They would most likely steal the show.

As if on cue, the next song was… Stole the show, by Kygo. As they danced close together in perfect synchrony, Jaime noticed for the first time the similarities between Ash and Kit. Though Ash was all pale, white blond hair and alabaster skin, and Kit was all golden hair and tanned muscles, there was something about their facial features, the planes of their cheeks, the lines of their jaws… They did not look like brothers, but they could easily pass for cousins.

Jaime grabbed a Hot Shadowhunters calendar that had been left on the side table and started flipping through the pages. Looking at the January page featuring Jace Herondale, he wondered why everyone said Kit was like a mini Jace when Jaime could clearly see there was a difference, now that Kit had grown into more adult features. At least to Jaime, Kit’s fey heritage was plain.

When the music changed to Charlie Puth’s Marvin Gaye, Jaime turned his head to find Ty leaning against the kitchen counter and watching the two dancers with a bemused expression, his arms crossed over his chest.

He eventually caught Kit’s eye, lifted a questioning eyebrow, and jerked his head toward the bedroom door. Kit stumbled from the table in his hurry to join Ty and followed him out of the living room and through the main bedroom door, which shut behind them.

*****

Kit jumped on the huge threesome bed as soon as they were inside the bedroom. He felt exhilarated, full of adrenaline and restless energy, and he wanted Ty so much that he was certain he would spontaneously combust if they didn’t share their bodies within the next minute.

He shot Ty a smoldering look as he lounged on the thick mattress, twisting his shoulders seductively while singing along to Charlie Puth’s Marvin Gaye, which was blasting through the thin walls.

“We got this king-size to ourselves Don't have to share with no one else Don't keep your secrets to yourself It's Kama Sutra show and tell, yeah”

Ty had folded his arms against his chest and was shaking his head, as if he didn’t know what to make of this misbehaving boy.

“Kit, you interrupted me earlier when I was trying to have a serious conversation. Will you please let me finish this time?”

"I'm in trouble." Kit continued, clapping a hand over his mouth in a dramatic oops gesture. "But I'd love to be in trouble with you."

Ty rolled his eyes. He didn’t seem ready to play along with Kit, so Kit finally stood and grabbed Ty's upper arms, forcing him to back up until he had him pinned against the wall. He started wiggling his hips, rubbing against Ty, his body swaying to the music.

“You've got to give it up to me I'm screaming, "Mercy, mercy, please!" Just like they say it in the song Until the dawn, let's Marvin Gaye and get it on.”

Kit slipped a hand under Ty’s waistband, straight into his boxer shorts, and whispered “Hello there” as he brushed his lips against Ty’s ear.

“Kit…” Ty said sharply, as a warning, though Kit could hear his breathing was uneven.

“Ty,” Kit replied with all the seriousness he could muster. “When I saw you riding that Shinigami demon carrying a crossbow, I was so turned on it was all I could do not to jump your bones there and then.”

Ty laughed softly. “It appears you have a kink involving me wielding dangerous weapons. Maybe I should bring a claymore to bed next time and threaten you with it.”

“Honey, you know that, as far as I am concerned, you carry the deadliest weapon around with you at all times,” Kit started stroking Ty’s length as if to illustrate his point. It hardened under his touch. Good, we’re heading somewhere. "I was talking about your brain of course," Kit added.

“Kit, listen to me.” Ty grabbed Kit’s wrist and pulled it out of his pants. Kit groaned. “Haven’t you noticed anything strange about Ash?”

That caught Kit’s attention. He had not expected Ash to be the subject of their conversation. He had actually hoped to avoid any kind of conversation altogether. For a little while at least.

“Well, I noticed he is an amazing fighter and dancer. I am totally up for challenging him again, either in a training room or on a dancefloor.” There was something about Ash and him fighting and dancing together, a raw yet steady energy, not like the restlessness and all consuming love he felt around Ty, but something grounding him, making him even more focused. As if he had found a kindred warrior spirit.

“He probably has no effect on you, but… I think spells have been worked on him to render him… likeable. People are inevitably drawn to him, want to protect and follow him.”

Kit swallowed, suddenly deadly serious. “Does this… work on you?”

“No. And I have several theories about that. First… Well, I am a bit different. My brain doesn’t work the same way others’ do. Second, the Blackthorns have a bit of Greater Demon blood, even if it is quite diluted. I do believe Dru genuinely likes him.”

“You mean from your ancestor Lucie Herondale?”

Ty nodded. “And the third and most important explanation is… you. You have my full loyalty.” He rested his forehead against Kit’s. “There is no way in hell I am following him, when I could follow you. ”

Kit brushed his lips over Ty’s.

“What about Jaime? He seems to dislike Ash.”

“I am still trying to figure this out. But it may be one of the reasons I am immune to it, myself.”

“What? You think the Rosales have Greater Demon blood as well?”

“Maybe. But that’s not what I was referring to.”

They were both interrupted when they heard voices raising in the living room. Jaime’s voice was the loudest. And he sounded totally pissed.

Ty hurried toward the door, and Kit followed.

****

As soon as Kit and Ty had disappeared behind the bedroom door, Ash jumped over Dru and Jaime’s heads to land behind the sofa and stole the Hot Shadowhunters calendar from Jaime’s hands. “Hey!” Jaime cried out.

Ash circled back and dropped himself next to Dru, which left her crammed between him and Jaime. As he flipped to the first page, the January page, Ash froze. He was gaping at the picture of Jace Herondale, as if he could not quite believe his eyes.

Falling for Jace Herondale, already? What a surprise.

But oddly, Ash didn’t smile or make a sarcastic comment, as Jaime would have expected. He had a sorrowful expression and a faraway look.

“This is Jace Herondale,” Dru said softly. “Surely, even you have heard of him ?”

Ash swallowed. “Yeah,” he said absently. “Yeah, I have. He looks… happy.”

“Well, of course, he is happy. He has it all, hasn’t he?” Jaime said. “War hero. Married to the love of his life. The Consul as faithful parabatai.” Ash flinched, as if each word was a needle to his skin.

“Ash, is everything okay?”

Ash shook his head as if to clear it.

“Yeah, yeah, I was just thinking about… the butterfly effect. How a single human being’s existence… or absence, can change the course of things… can change the whole world.”

Where the hell did that come from? Jaime wondered.

Ash lifted his gaze to stare at the door where Kit and Ty had disappeared. “Take Kit for instance. Who knew it would only take a hot boyfriend to turn a ruthless, bloodthirsty ruler into a harmless kitten.”

“Er- Ash, I am not sure I am following you,” Dru said gently. “What do you mean?”

Ash let out a heavy sigh and slumped back, crossing his long arms behind his head, the Hot Shadowhunters calendar left at the January page on his lap.

“Nothing, I am rambling.” It looked like he was lost in his thoughts again.

Jaime seized the opportunity to whisper in Dru’s ear. “Dru, can we find some place private to… talk?”

Dru gazed at him with a puzzled look on her face. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

Jaime didn’t get a chance to answer as the entrance door rattled at that moment and they both whipped their heads in the direction of the noise.

The door opened and Mark Blackthorn, all tousled blond hair, pointy ears and flushed cheeks, erupted inside the cottage, wearing ragged jeans and a white shirt with a message that stated, “All good things come in threes”. He paused, as if he didn’t really expect to see so many people in his living room.

Jaime immediately withdrew his arm from Dru’s shoulders and stood, but soon registered that Mark was not looking at him… He was staring at Ash who had, from one moment to the next, leapt on the table in front of them and was crouched on top of it, ready to pounce, a dangerous glint in his ice green eyes. He had moved to protect Dru from a potential threat, Jaime realized. And there was no trace of the Ash that had been goofing around with Kit a moment before. The feeling that he had been played like a fool until then hit Jaime like a freight train. They had all fallen for Ash’s laid-back, good guy act. In one instant, Ash had revealed his true, predatory nature…

“Mark!” Dru waved from the sofa, unfazed. “You already know Jaime of course and this is Ash,” she introduced. “Ash… this is my brother Mark.”

Ash relaxed from his stance and leapt off the table, flashing a bright smile and wearing his cool guy mask back on. As if he hadn’t been ready to rip Mark’s throat a second before. The abrupt change in Ash's behaviour almost gave Jaime a whiplash.

“Have we… met before?” Mark asked, looking at Ash with his brows furrowed as he closed the door.

“In any event, I wish to be properly introduced,” Ash said, evading the question. “I am Dru’s boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?” Dru interjected at the same time Jaime exclaimed “WHAT?”

Ash shrugged. “I thought our make out session had settled it.”

Jaime felt heat rush up his face. He whirled on Dru. “We’ve known each other for three years and you’ve known this guy for what? Less than twelve hours? And you’ve already kissed him?”

“To be fair, I am the one who kissed her ,” Ash said in a calm voice. “She didn’t tell me to stop, though.” He paused, his long fingers stroking his delicate chin as he pondered. “Then again, how could she have, what with my tongue being down her throat and all?”

“Ash, don’t intervene,” Dru said, her already white complexion growing paler by the second. “This is not between us.”

“Really?” Ash answered in a fake shocked expression. “I could have sworn it was my tongue down your throat.”

“What’s going on here?” Ty asked as he came out of the bedroom, followed by Kit.

“GREAT!” Jaime said. “That’s just my luck! We’re just missing Julian and…”

“And?” Julian asked, his tall broad-shouldered figure appearing in the entrance. He froze in the doorway, hand on the doorknob, his face a mask of shock as his blue-green eyes swept across the room.

“... And all my worst nightmares are reunited in the same room. OK, let’s be done with it.”

Jaime took a deep breath and caught each of the Blackthorn brothers’ gaze, one after the other.

“I. FANCY. DRU. OKAY? I like her. I know she’s sixteen, but we are good together and I want her to be my girlfriend.”

*Cough* “ Too late.” *Cough* That was Ash. Dru turned to glare at him.

“Well, that’s not even relevant anymore, is it? Since apparently… She prefers Legolas, here.” Jaime continued, waving his hand toward Ash.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? I don’t even look like him.”

“Lego-who?” Ty asked, puzzled.

“He’s talking about Ash. Don’t worry honey, I’ll explain,” Kit said, speaking for the first time.

“And what the hell are you doing here?” Julian asked, turning toward Kit, a flicker of panic crossing his features.

“He just came out of the bedroom with Ty,” Mark said.

Kit lifted both his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t having sex with him,” he blurted. “I mean… not this time.” His face went red. “I mean- I am out of here. If anyone’s looking for me, I’m in the bedroom.” He whirled and paused in front of the bedroom door, his hand on the knob. “Not having sex with anyone...” he specified before he disappeared behind it.

Julian heaved a sigh and turned his gaze back to Ash.

Ash gulped. He looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights, his green eyes wide.

“This is not the end of it. But first things first. Can anyone tell me what the hell Ash Morgenstern is doing here?”

They had barely registered the question, when a sharp cry from behind Julian had them all jump. A slender figure peered around him, red hair like flames flowing over a green velvet dress embroidered with gold. Jaime had seen enough drawings and pictures of her to recognize her instantly. The Seelie Queen.

She pushed Julian aside and ran to Ash, throwing her thin pale arms around him and burying her face in his chest, the golden circlet around her head tipping to the side as she did. “Where were you last night? I came to the house, and it was empty . I have been looking for you everywhere since!”

Dru was staring at Ash open-mouthed. He shot her an apologetic look.

“Mom, let me introduce you to Dru. Dru…” Ash cleared his throat. “Meet my mom.”

*****

Tagging @gabtapia ❤️ Hope you'll enjoy it and, of course, don't hesitate to correct my spanish ;)

[binunus]

college bf!jinjin

a/n yes yes yes 100x yes, here's the next installment of the college bf!astro series hehe, hope you enjoy it love 😙

{request: Would it be possible to get a college boyfriend Jinjin too?? I super loved the Bin one you did!!!! Thank you in advance 💜}

→ genre: fluff, smut

→ word count: 3k

_________________________________________

alright theydies

jinwoo–like everyone else in astro–makes me hella hard and soft at the same time so this is gonna be fun

major: music engineer technology

i saw that one ddoca where he was directing all the members for his song and just !!! grr bark bark

literally a fucking sweetie

one of the kindest people you will ever meet in your life

his face is so gentle, especially when he smiles

and then you hear his voice and you're like woah why is it so deep and raspy hey

and then he laughs or giggles and you're like ahh that looks more like you hehe

roommates with university famous dancer!rocky bc i love rap line

such a good roommate and hyung omg

will always make sure rocky eats dinner or takes a shower before going to bed even though he’s exhausted from dance practice or whatever

always shows off how talented rocky (and the rest of the boys) is

very chill

which is a bit of a surprise to everyone bc one of his best friends is literally myungjun

anyway, how do you two meet??

you're a vocal performance major

coincidentally, the same major as myungjun

oh god so you can bet he really played matchmaker for you two

you and myungjun were doing a duet together for one of your final projects during your second year

and you two were joking around like

damn, we should record this, we sound pretty fire

*cue myungjun immediately calling jinjin*

mj: ARE YOU AT THE STUDIO?? ARE YOU FREE RIGHT NOW??

jin: hyung why are you yelling it's literally 6 pm

anyway, it was spontaneous but you and myungjun end up going to one of the recording studios in the music building where jinwoo very often frequents at

you're like a bit shy, like wtf myungjun you didn't tell me that your friend was cute?? you would have worn something better than sweats and a tank

jin's so nice ugh, just imagine him smiling at you as he introduces himself

literally you melted

his fit? bucket hat, glasses, shorts and a tee

it was so casual, but why did he look so cute??

myungjun convinces jinwoo to let you guys record in the studio

it took him just 10 minutes to set up the equipment and everything

you were just looking at him like ooo looks so professional

sksksk im gross

myungjun goes first bc you were nervous

and yeah duh he was a natural, but you couldn't help but admire jinwoo in his prime

he looked so attractive in the producer chair just like instructing mj in the booth

he didn't even know what kind of song you guys were singing, but he directed him so smoothly so that the best parts of myungjun's voice came out

mj joking around: why's your mouth open, y/n? amazed at my voice?

you roll your eyes: sure if that's what you want to believe

your thoughts: ah haha i was totally not oogling your best friend myungjun, totally not

and then it was your turn to go in the booth

you don't know why, but you were hella nervous singing in front of them–or more so, in front of jinwoo

which is dumb bc you're literally a vocal performance major, you sing in front of strangers all the damn time

but you really wanted to impress him for some reason??

okay, you had no reason to be nervous because as soon as you opened your mouth?? jinnie?? literally awestruck

he's heard a lot of singers, obviously bc he's had to record so many of them

but you?? your voice?? a literal siren for him–but in a good way!

your singing entranced him

and then you looked out of the booth to see him just staring at you and your throat went dry

your voice cracked, you've never felt more embarrassed in your life

you: ah! oh my God I'm so sorry, that was horrendous

myungjun's laughing at you, what a nice duet partner

but jin just smiles bc you're whining and hiding your face in your hands

you were so cute??

jinwoo: it's okay y/n, you were doing really good. let's try that again, okay?

he was so sweet about it, ugh you were blushing

you end up recording again, and this time you made the smart decision to close your eyes and just try and focus on the lyrics

and shit, if jinjin wasn’t already a bit interested in you before, he definitely was now

because the way you looked completely immersed in the song and lyrics

his heart skipped like ten miles i dont know

myungjun just knew from the way jinwoo was staring at you

you didn’t get his number from the first meeting

bitch you were too shy, you just squeaked out a “thank you, hope myungjun and I weren’t too much of a bother”

jin: hyung’s always a bother, but you were totally fine

mj: hey!

anyway you leave with a bit of regret, like you should have at least gotten his snapchat or social media or something

or make a dumb excuse to try and see him again

ah but mj was already ten steps ahead of you and jinjin ;)

when you get back to your apartment, there’s a text from myungjun like

“come back to jinwoo’s studio tomorrow for the final mix of our duet”

you immediately jump at the opportunity: okay! what time?

damn could you be any more obvious??

this time you actually tried to look cute, like you were going to see jinwoo again, you couldn’t look like a rat

you get to the studio at the time myungjun told you and you’re like?? oh it’s just jinwoo here?? maybe myungjun’s running a bit late??

jinwoo: oh hey y/n! wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon

you: ???? myungjun told me to come here to listen to the final mix...

jinwoo being shy: he didn’t tell me about that haha

you’re embarrassed, about to turn on your heel and book it

maybe also thinking of murdering myungjun on the way back to your place

but then jinwoo grabs your wrist before you could leave

and you literally felt a spark at his touch, it made you jump a little bit

jin: you can stay if you want–I mean, you came all this way already, I’d be a bit of jerk if I just make you leave

you: I-uh-don’t wanna intrude

he just shakes his head with a smile: you’re not, don’t worry. besides, I’m actually working on your song right now, you can tell me what you think

and that’s how you end up hanging out with jinwoo alone in the studio

you were obviously very awkward and nervous at first

what do you say to him? should you ask him questions? what if you’re bothering him? god you don’t want to sound like an idiot

jinwoo noticed your nervousness––and yes he was nervous too, but he just hid it better than you

he hands you a pair of headphones: here, listen to what I have done so far

you’re like pleasantly surprised??? you and myungjun sound so professional?? like damn put this out on spotify or something

you’re smiling and jinwoo just feels like a huge sense of relief like phew okay you like it so far

and then you two just get to talking while he’s still mixing

you ask him how he got into music and his major and all that fun stuff

you find out that jin’s always loved music and the actual producing aspect of it, he hopes to be a music producer one day and he just flirts with you like

“hey maybe one day you can sing my songs on stage”

and you’re like ??? me??? 

jin: you have one of the best voices I’ve ever heard, it would be an honor for me

ugh jinwoo stop im blushing

you two end up ordering food and eating at the studio bc he promised himself that he wouldn’t leave until he finished your duet and you didn’t wanna leave him alone tf

you and jinwoo exchange numbers this time hehe

before you leave, he’s like “this was nice y/n, you should come over and keep me company more often :) if...you want of course”

you: i’d be happy to! just text me any time :)

internally you’re screaming like yes !! 

you can bet that you start spending a lot of your free time with jinwoo in the music studio

sometimes it’s just you two

sometimes myungjun and their other friends make appearances too

and that’s how you get introduced to their friend group

myungjun to either of you: you’re spending a lot of time with jin/yn lately ;)

about a month after meeting each other, jinwoo asks you out on a date

with the encouragement of astro

it was all expected let’s be honest

cliche first date at the movies, but like you both loved it

wouldn’t be surprised if astro was spying on you two, sitting like a couple rows behind and watching your every move

but shhh if they did, you and jinwoo didn’t notice

the transition from liking each other →  going on dates →  making it exclusive went so smoothly

you and jin were hooked on each other after the first couple meetings that it just seemed so right

myungjun will never stop saying that he’s the reason why you two are in a relationship

you and the other boys grow very fond with each other–particularly sanha

and that was important for jinwoo bc the guys are like his family and it’s basically a dream for him that his partner and friends are close too

sanha is his child do not @ me

so by osmosis, sanha becomes like your baby too

the two of you literally coddle sanha, it’s cute okay

they all go to you and jin for relationship advice sksksk

bc to them, you two just seem so made for each other :’) 

the !! sweetest !! most perfect !! boyfriend

will walk you to class in the morning even if his class is all the way across campus

and you’re like: jinwoo it’s okay, i can see you after this class, you might get late!

jin being pouty: i just wanna spend more time with you :(

im in love with jinjin

loves holding your hand, even when you two are in the studio and he’s mixing something for class or just for fun, he’s still holding your hand

whenever he makes a composition, you’re the first person he shows

really values what you think of his work

vice versa, when you have a song you need to sing, you always ask him to listen to you first

you don’t sugarcoat with each other when it comes to music

will ask you to sing literally all the time

jinwoo gives the best hugs :’)

it’s just so comforting, one of his hands strokes your hair, while the other one rubs your lower back

you know what kind of picture im creating?? yeah

ooooof baby you go with him when he gets his tattoos

you hold his hand through it the entire time even though he probably didn’t feel much pain from it

and like his big ass chest tattoo??? are you drooling??? 1000%

when jinwoo realizes that you get ??? turned on?? by his tattoos, you bet he begins to walk around shirtless in your apartment

is this my transition to down and dirty? yes it is

your first time with him was mmm rough and it’s all thanks to that chest tattoo

you and jinwoo have been steamy before, like makeout sessions and dry humping, and oral (both receiving), but the actual action of fucking? y’all haven’t done it before that night

ofc he’s being a little tease and walking around shirtless

he was always touching you though, not explicitly, but like say you were washing the dishes, he would walk past you and brush his hand passed your waist and he’d whisper in your ear like: sorry baby excuse me

and like he’s done this the whole day so just at one point you lose it and literally push him against the wall and start making out with him

ah he knew you were gonna crack

and god you were so turned on at this point that you were not having any of that soft shit, like you needed him to fuck you asap

jinwoo fucks you so hard your first time together that you couldn’t walk the next day

hehe

oh boy he likes to bite

yes he’s the sweetest, but in the bedroom?? lowkey a bit of a masochist

it’s okay bc you don’t mind a little bit of pain ;)

daddy!! kink!! i dont make the rules

will call you baby girl/boy

he’s the dom, like will very rarely let you dom him

very private with your sex life, you won’t catch him teasing you in public with other people around

and if you try, like say if you whisper daddy in his ear or something while you are hanging out with the guys, oof it’s gonna be a rough night for you

alright but studio sex

has he recorded your moans before?? or you two having sex in the booth?? yes

debatably, studio sex happens more than bedroom sex, but that’s only because most of jinwoo’s time is literally in the music building

jinwoo dirty talk !! with his sexy ass raspy voice !! 

ugh jin moaning in your ear what a good girl/good boy you are for him while he’s just fucking you

will slightly degrade you?? like yes you are his cocksleeve

but he also praises you a lot during sex too

ooh you better hope you don’t have a gag reflex bc he’s all into throat fucking

favorite position is actually missionary, believe it or not

he loves seeing you come undone for him

eye contact during sex?? yes

like he will make sure you’re looking at him when you cum, periodt

favorite place to cum is your face oops

also very much into cockwarming

most of the time, your sessions are rough just bc your vibes are like that

but when they’re soft and slow?? and like making love?? 

literally the most passionate man ever

jin makes it all about you and your pleasure when he’s being gentle

after care is full of kisses and cuddles and I love yous

always makes sure you drink water after having sex

stay hydrated kids

and jinwoo’s back to being the bestest boyfriend :’)

first i love you was when you two were in bed together

you both just woke up and were cuddling

jin was watching the video you sent him of you practicing this one song for an upcoming performance

and you were still drowsy, so you were literally drifting in and out of sleep while he was listening to your video

and jinwoo was just awestruck, he’s always been in love with your voice from the get go, but the way you executed this song? even though it was just practice? his chest was constricting

you’re like mumbling when the video stops: i still need to work more on the bridge, my tone gets a bit flat during it, right?

and he just smiles softly at you even though your eyes are closed and you can’t see him

he thought it was perfect already, you were perfect already

and he just calls your name: y/n

you: hmm??

jin: I love you

and suddenly you’re awake and meeting his eyes

they were so genuine and serious and full of love, you don’t even hesitate to say it back

honestly not the jealous type, he’s so patient and trusting and knows that you’re crazy about only him

will constantly reassure you about any of your insecurities: body, voice, school, your relationship, anything

jinwoo just has such a calming aura around him that you can’t help but feel like, as long as he’s by your side everything will be okay

the two of you have many deep talks together, especially at night before going to sleep, it’s what makes your relationship so solid

jinwoo just knew that he wanted to marry you, even early on into your relationship

there was no one that supported him more in his dreams, no one that he’s ever truly felt connected with, no one that he’s shared all his deepest fears with than you

and like after a year of dating like he couldn’t picture a future without you in it

he’s a romantic :’)

shortly before graduating, he makes a song about you and he’s actually singing in it

ugh main vocal jinjin rise

and he shows it to you in the music studio where you first met

and it’s about how much he loves you and admires you and treasures you

basically a proposal but not really

and you’re so touched, like literally moved to tears because it was so beautiful

and lowkey he was cringing at hearing his singing voice but you still loved it nonetheless

and afterwards, jinwoo was like: I wanna spend the rest of my life with you y/n, I’m not asking you to marry me right now, obviously I’ll propose to you in a better way in the future, but I’m serious about you and I can’t imagine being with anyone else.

you jump into his lap and kiss him and just keep saying I love you in between kisses

and jinwoo’s all smiley and giggly like: do you feel the same??

and you hit his arm all jokingly, yes of course you do

you just sit on his lap and he’s hugging you while the two of you are listening to more of his projects and jinwoo’s just thinking like wow I love this person so much

maybe the two of you do owe it to myungjun for playing matchmaker

i guess mj can be the best man at your wedding

y’all this was so soft??

but yes jinnie’s the best bf/husband material out there

im in love with him

_________________________________________________

2-8-21

[via-whitmore]

Fic: you’re too intact (Giles/Ethan PWP)

Oneshot for the @buffyversegiftexchange and @ Aspasiathebloody

CONTENT WARNINGS: Consensual breathplay/choking, powerplay, nonconsensual voyeurism, magically infused sex

Read on AO3 

The truth of it was Ripper was never cut out for glam. By the time Bowie killed Ziggy, he was grateful the sequins and feathers were drifting to the stadium floor in spotlight and fading smoke. Ziggy was the beacon out of the dark of archives, tea rooms, and graveyards but he had no desire to start dressing like a peacock and learning to apply lip liner. He believed his mask  was more subtle. The working class hard knocks dropout was easier to live in until he could forget everything they’d wanted him to be. So what if his parents hadn’t run a grocery? When he said anarchy he saw the Council building going up like Guy Fawkes day. He had his tower to pull down, same as any of the born East Ender. The death he’d seen would wake these alley brawlers screaming in the night. He deserved London. He deserved punk.

Ethan, on the other hand, would not let glam die even if he had to keep it alive single handedly under his own skin. Ethan taught Ripper much of this--the deserving. Ethan had the ability, with magic or without, to be so a part of London that he could wear its shadows like a skin while simultaneously being a bonfire in the gray rain. He wore the safety pinned leather jacket and the pink boa and lipstick. This was not always good for his safety. And much of their gang’s lives were taken up with cracking skulls over Ethan’s appearance. But he taught Ripper about dancing on the line between wanting to disappear and demanding to be heard. It was Ethan who stole Ripper his second guitar and their record player. It was Ethan who suggested Ripper sing lead vocal while he took the role of mosh pit disciple.

Now here they were. There was no place to fuck in the one room squat they were calling a flat unless all six of them were doing it together. Nominally, nebulously, the lines broke down into Deidre and Tommy, Randall and Phillip. Now, Ripper supposed, he and Ethan. One or the other had decided they wanted to fuck alone together. Ripper couldn’t remember who’d set his eyes on whom amidst the tangle of limbs and made the decision. He would never be able to even after it all turned to ash. They might still get pulled in on public indecency but this was the first year sodomy itself wouldn’t get them arrested. At least on paper. 

“Someday we will all be free,” Ethan had said, tone flippant but eyes shining. 

It was the kind of thing one could only say without irony at eighteen, no matter how disaffected one was trying to look. Ethan always believed in a future and his ability to move into it. Ripper was trying only to think about the now.

And now had Ethan up against an alley wall, the boy’s legs wrapped expertly around his back. Ethan was biting into the leather that covered Ripper’s shoulder to stifle his moans. It was not the first time, but one of the first. The first time, Ripper never would have done what he did next.

“Stop my breath,” whispered Ethan.

Ripper didn’t know what he meant. He covered his inexperience by reaching down into Ethan’s jeans, where the two of them rubbed together, and pinching the bare cock with two fingernails. He hushed Ethan’s scream by shoving his thumb into the boy’s mouth. Ethan could smell himself on fingers that were callused not only from guitars and fistacuffs. He would never ask where they came from. He pulled at the hand and placed it over his nose and mouth as Ripper expertly got his own jeans down just enough, Ethan supporting all his own weight. Something flashed in Ripper’s eyes, the barest spark of a question. Ethan nodded. Ripper reached into his pocket, smeared his fingers with lube, and began to play expertly against Ethan’s hole.

“Oh God! Oh God!” 

Only Ethan knew what he was saying against Ripper’s palm. Sex was the only time he ever called down what was a fiction at best and an old bastard at worst. 

What could I call down and move through this man’s hands? Ethan thought distractedly. What could I make with them? What could we make?

Ripper was rod-hard against Ethan without so much as a kiss in return. Ethan rubbed against him like a cat, slid down, and turned against the wall; presenting his ass. He never wore underwear. He reached into the pocket of his lowered jeans and pulled out a black scarf, tied it around his eyes, and listened to the sound of unzipping. The deep grunt Ripper gave as he pulled his cock out and slicked it thrilled through Ethan’s body. Under the layer of body heat and the cool mist, Ethan could feel the low current of dormant magic rolling off the other man’s taut body and touching deep inside to meet his own. In his personal darkness, he felt Ripper reach out and brush a fingertip against the scarf and into his curls. Then he slid a palm under Ethan’s silk shirt and stroked up his spine. Ethan’s breath deserted him at the shockingly tender touch, his jaw falling. He wanted to buck away from it and dissolve simultaneously. There was someone gentle underneath all the fury roiling in this man. Ethan had no use for gentleness.

Liar, liar, he thought. That’s okay, beauty, we can make you anyone you want to be. All masks become real with enough time.

He was forgetting the drab surroundings, retreating into a plane of only sensation under the hands. Then Ripper pinned him with all his weight to the wall and slipped inside him. He exhaled a hot breath on the back of Ethan’s neck. When Ethan howled, the palm came back against his lips. He licked it playfully. Ripper gave him a moment to adjust, to just let them feel one another, before he drew out slightly and struck into him. 

“Faster,” Ethan begged after the third such movement.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” growled Ripper, but he picked up his pace.

Maybe he could sense how best to please Ethan. But it was a shaky assumption. He wasn’t used to this, Ethan could tell. No dirty little quickies in the hay with the stableboy at the country house. Maybe there had been a mean older boy in the dormitories. Or maybe there hadn’t been anyone at all. The thought added another layer of delight over the mounting pleasure and the low scald of magic.

“I could do anything to you,” Ripper hummed hotly against his ear. He sounded less commanding and more incredulous at the idea. Seeming to sense the slip in his guise, his voice assumed a harder edge. “Leave you here blind in a heap. Like a rat in the gutter.”

Ethan nudged the hand away from his mouth. Ripper obviously didn’t know enough to hold his turf.

“You’re in the gutter with me now,” he answered breathlessly.

Ripper didn’t know how to reply and so licked the back of Ethan’s neck. He crested Ethan further and further towards release but it wasn’t quite enough. He knew how to put the cherry on the cake.

Ethan knew how to bend a lover’s will with a spell. It did absolutely nothing for him. Devoting himself to chaos had been a way to rid himself of the controlling impulse inherent in magic. Molding the world to one’s desires was too...available. Ethan wanted to be Puck, not some Old Testament god.

He wanted the chance to give himself over to this mess of a man walking between selves. But sometimes, one had to grease the wheels just a little to see what the outcome would be.

He sent the message to Ripper’s hands where they pressed on the wall above his head, not to his mind exactly. The idea needed to be Ripper’s. Ethan was no beggar. The hands slid down and began to gently massage the sides of Ethan’s throat. He sighed encouragingly.

There was the barest instant of a halt while Ripper considered and even the fear Ethan felt added to the closeness of orgasm. 

“That’s what you want?”

“Hurt me.”

“I--”

The illusion of Ripper broke for just that breath. Ethan wasn’t worried. All things with time.

“I’ll teach you.”

It could easily have been a disaster. Ethan might have had to think through the brink of orgasm to loosen a less experienced partner’s hands and avoid danger. It was his own fault. He hated asking for what he wanted; all the discussion. But he certainly didn’t want brain damage. But Ripper knew and somewhat hated that he knew. Old combat training came back. He mentally worked backwards from the desire to subdue an opponent, placing cupped hands on either side of Ethan’s neck again. The flutter of his rapid pulse beneath his fingers excited Ripper and pulled him back into the moment. He squeezed gently, moving his forefinger to apply some moderate pressure just below the trachea. Ethan’s legs tightened spasmodically around Ripper’s body and he bucked as he came. Ripper released his hold quickly, clutching Ethan close as he shuddered and muffled his cry in Ripper’s neck.

“Got you,” Ripper gasped. “I’ve got you.”

It was a long moment before Ethan wrapped his arms around Ripper in return.

“You’re good,” he gulped.

“You’re a manipulative little shit. And if you ever control me again, I’ll break your fucking jaw.”

“Promise?” 

Ethan batted his eyelashes. Ripper pushed him away with a sneer. As Ethan stumbled backward, Ripper disguised catching him by the shoulder by steering him onto his knees.

“I gave you what you wanted.” His voice caught, then turned hard. “Your turn.”

Ethan grinned. As he obliged, neither of them knew someone out in the night rain had watched the moment with a hidden set of animal eyes. He admired the look of the two punk lovers. Watching them in the first fumblings of sticky submission almost made Spike wish he could still breathe. He did not know he stood several feet from a boy trained in every way to tear him apart. He did think perhaps it was time for a new look for such new and brazen times; something to lure such kids in their dark clubs. 

It’s not the place of this work to ask if the boy would have done so had he caught the vampire staring. He only tossed back his head with a silent cry against the brick and let the cold air expand his lungs before he did up his pants and offered a hand to the one on the ground. Then they walked through the mist past the one who had been watching. 

They raced each other up the stairs to their squat like children. They took off their damp clothes and didn’t bother to put on new ones. Ethan covered his surprised squeak when Ripper pulled him down to lay at his side on the mattress. If they fell asleep together, it wasn’t anyone’s business.

[reinerispretty]

I love your writing 🥺 Can you do a Sokka imagine where the reader is a firebender so Sokka doesnt take well to her joining the gaang at first, and they always bicker/ throw sarcastic comments at each other and the gaang is so sick of it! But one day they are forced to be alone together (they go on a mission?) and sparks fly n they kiss or something 😳 they return to camp and the gaang is like... ok why r u guys tolerating eachother and u guys r inseparable and super couply from then on!

hi!! sorry i’m just now getting to this!! i like to put lots of effort into my requests so i wanted it to be the best it could be :D hope you enjoy!!

---

(Y/N) had always been very proud of her firebending. Not everyone in the town she had grown up in were benders, so being able to bend one of the elements was a great honor. Because of her powers, she was on track to join the Fire Nation military. These plans changed of course, as soon as she met the Avatar and his friends. She had helped them escape capture and joined them on their adventures. They were all pretty hesitant about her joining, but eventually Toph vouched for her by saying that she wasn’t lying when she told them all she had ever wanted was to help people. 

(Y/N) had been traveling with their group for a few weeks and was slowly starting to build friendships with the other members of her group. Aang absolutely refused to learn firebending from her, but watched and laughed as she made little dragon puppets out of fire after dinner. She and Toph became fast friends, as they both had a similar wit and nonchalance about life. Katara took a bit to fully warm up to her, but (Y/N) was relentless and eventually they could exchange pleasant conversation as they cooked dinner. Even Appa licked her when she brought him hay, and Momo had started sharing his berries with her. The only person who didn’t like her at all was Sokka. 

“I don’t want a firebender joining us,” He had said pointedly when she first joined the group. He had been outvoted, of course, and now whenever (Y/N) did anything, he had something to say in return. If she arranged the sleeping bags, he complained about their positioning. If she made dinner that night, he complained about the taste. It seemed like he went out of his way to make her feel bad. 

Initially (Y/N) had tried to understand. The Fire Nation had hurt his people, so it was only natural that he was apprehensive toward her. But then his words started to hurt. One day, he had mentioned that she had betrayed her own people, so it would only be a matter of time until she betrayed them, too, and (Y/N) had had enough. She threw her bowl of soup to the ground and stood up. “What’s your problem?” She demanded. 

“My problem is with you,” He spat. “You’re Fire Nation, you can’t be trusted.” 

“Don’t you think that if I had even thought about turning you all in to the Fire Lord, I would have done it already?” 

“I don’t know what goes on in your little spy brain!” 

“I know what goes on in your brain: absolutely nothing!” She let out a frustrated scream and turned on her heel, marching into her tent. The rest of the group stared at Sokka awkwardly. 

“She’s such a piece of work,” He grumbled, sipping on his soup. “Can you believe her?” 

Over the next few weeks, whenever Sokka said an insult toward (Y/N) she’d shoot one right back. If he wanted to be a pain in her side, fine. She’d be one in his, too. 

“You sure your twig arms can handle that firewood?” She asked him as he brought wood for their campfire. 

“Hey, at least I’m doing something. What, are you too busy plotting how to take over the world to help?” 

Their conversations were just insults and sarcastic quips, and eventually the rest of the group started to get sick of it. One night, as they sat at dinner, (Y/N) and Sokka were bickering because they had been forced to sit beside each other. Toph drove a piece of earth between them and flung them in opposite directions. “Would you guys quit it!” The girl shouted. “I only have four out of the five senses and you guys are driving them all crazy!” 

“Sorry, Toph,” (Y/N) apologized, brushing herself off. “You know how he is.” 

“Me?” Sokka exclaimed. “Toph, you know how she is!” 

“You arrogant, good for nothing--” 

“Ow!” Aang shouted, clutching his foot. The group stopped to look at him. “Ow, ow, ow, I think I stepped on something. My foot really hurts!” Katara rushed over to take a look and furrowed her brows. 

“I don’t--” 

“Oh, Sokka,” Aang sighed. “I don’t think I can go on that mission with you tomorrow, my foot just hurts too bad!” He gave Katara a big wink. 

“Oh, of course!” She said, finally getting what Aang was trying to do. “I have to stay here and help Aang heal. I’ll need Toph’s help, too, so (Y/N) is the only one who can go on the mission with you.” 

“I’d rather go alone,” Sokka said, crossing his arms. 

“Please, how are you going to defend yourself if you don’t have a bender with you?” (Y/N) asked with a roll of her eyes. Sokka balled his fists and stormed off to his tent, mumbling angry, incoherent sentences. (Y/N) yawned and retreated back to her tent for the night. 

“I’m not really injured,” Aang said. 

“Really?” Toph deadpanned. “Couldn’t tell.” 

“I just wanted a break from the two of them. They’re always fighting!” 

“Who knows,” Katara said with a smile. “Maybe the trip will bring them closer together.” 

The next morning, (Y/N) and Sokka begrudgingly walked side-by-side to their mission. They were doing a stake out of some Fire Navy ships to see what kind of weapons they were storing on them. They climbed up to a tall hillside, where they could comfortably watch the ships. As long as they were quiet, they wouldn’t bring any attention to themselves. 

Sokka’s plan was to stay there for a full twenty-four hours. Every time (Y/N) thought about being around him that long, she nearly gagged, but she had to swallow it down because she knew this mission would be for the greater good. Hopefully, there would be more watching than talking.

They set up their tents behind some rocks so they would not look suspicious. And then, they sat. And they sat for a long time. (Y/N) was growing increasingly bored, just watching soldiers go in and out of the ships. She sighed, laying back down on the grass. 

“What exactly are we looking for?” 

“Nothing.” She propped herself up on her elbows. 

“Excuse me?” 

“We aren’t looking for anything. Well, not anything specific. I just want to know what kind of weapons they’re using so I can write to the Mechanist to create better ones for us.” 

“So...we’re just going to watch?” 

“Do you not know what a stake out is?” 

“I do! I just didn’t know it was going to be a full day of doing absolutely nothing.” 

“Look, if you don’t want to be here, fine. You can go back to the camp. I can handle myself.” (Y/N) scoffed. 

“I’m not leaving you here alone, Sokka.” 

“Then I suggest you stop complaining.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and reached into her bag. She pulled out two sandwiches and laid them beside her. “What are those?” 

“Food,” She said, sliding a sandwich over to him. He took it suspiciously. “It’s not poisoned, you dummy. I got up early this morning and went to the market so I could make stake out snacks.” 

“Oh, thanks. I guess.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

They sat in silence for what felt like a lifetime. (Y/N) watched the soldiers intently and had even made up backstories for some of them. The smaller soldier was named Lee, and he was a fiesty little fellow, but he was a new recruit. He had good ideas, but no one really wanted to listen to him because he lacked authority. (Y/N) sighed as she watched him talk to his commanders. Poor Lee. 

“I recognize that one,” she said suddenly, pointing at one of the soldiers. “He and I went to training camp together one summer.” 

“Oh, so that’s your friend. Great.” (Y/N) furrowed her brows. 

“I never said he was my friend.” 

“I just assumed, since you were both all ‘Go Fire Nation!’“ He sarcastically pumped a fist into his air. 

“You make a lot of assumptions about me for someone who doesn’t know me.” 

“I know exactly who you are. You’re a spoiled girl from the Fire Nation who wasn’t satisfied with her life and only wanted to join us to run away from your probably mean family. You don’t want to make change, you just wanted an out.” 

“That’s not true at all, Sokka. I grew up poor. Dirt poor. And when I say that I mean it, because the floors of my house were literally dirt. No one asked me if I wanted to join the Fire Nation military, they told me I was going to. I was brought up my whole life surrounded by people who told me how great my nation was. If everyone’s telling you something and you have no reason to believe otherwise, you start to believe it. I know I’m not perfect, but I’m really tired of you thinking that you know who I am.” She pulled her knees into her chest and tucked her chin on top of them. 

Sokka sighed. The sun was setting behind them. “It’s obvious I don’t like the Fire Nation. They’ve caused a lot of pain to me and Katara and to thousands of other people. So when you joined, I guess I just projected that anger onto you.” 

“I understand. But I’m not the entire Fire Nation.” 

“I know, it’s just hard to separate the two sometimes. I can literally see the Fire Nation inside of you. You’re decisive and strong and stubborn--” 

“I’m just going to focus on the first two. You really think those things about me?” 

“I mean, yeah. I’ve seen you talk your way out of fights but also kick some major butt. As much as I hate to say it, you’re pretty cool.” (Y/N) smiled and opened her mouth to respond, but her eyes widened as a giant fireball plummeted toward them. 

“Look out!” She shouted, tackling Sokka out of the way. They both grunted in pain as they hit the ground. 

“How did they even see us?” Sokka asked. He grabbed (Y/N) by the hand and led her up the hill. They abandoned all of their camping stuff (as it was currently on fire) and ran down the backside of the hill, away from the Fire Navy ships. (Y/N) spotted a cave and pulled Sokka inside. They both leaned against the cool rock, breathing heavily. 

“Well, so much for the stake out,” (Y/N) said. Sokka laughed. 

“We’ll have to wait here for the night. The ships are supposed to leave at dawn tomorrow, so we can travel back to camp then.” (Y/N) nodded. The sun had fully set behind them and the cool chill of night was setting in. She shivered. “I can get a fire going,” Sokka said, and began to collect the debris that was scattered around the cave. (Y/N) giggled. 

“Sokka, I got it.” She kicked some leaves and sticks into a pile and kicked a flame on top of them. They sat across from each other with their backs against the cave walls. 

“So, how’d you know you were a firebender?” He asked. (Y/N) shrugged. 

“I think I started coughing fire one day. My family expected it though. My father had been a firebender.” She pursed her lips and stared at the ground. “He was sent to fight in the war. He didn’t end up coming home.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Sokka said quietly. She shrugged. 

“I feel torn about it, you know? Because he fought for hatred and injustice, but I also never got to find out if he supported the war or not. The Fire Nation doesn’t really care if you want to fight. They make you do it anyway.” 

“I always wanted to fight, ever since I was little.” Sokka said. “But now while I’m living my dream, I see how nasty it actually is and understand why my dad didn’t want me to.” 

“Well, you’re a pretty good fighter, so I’m sure he’s proud of you.” Sokka smiled. 

“I’m sure your dad is proud of you, too.” (Y/N) grinned. “Listen, I’m sorry for being so mean to you. I guess I was projecting feelings on to you that I had towards the Fire Nation, and it wasn’t fair. But in my defense, everything you did just made me mad. Like the way you cooked soup, or how pretty your eyes were, or how nice your laugh sounded...” Sokka trailed off, a blush appearing on his cheeks. “I said that all out loud, didn’t I?” 

(Y/N) nodded, trying her best to contain her smile. “Alright,” Sokka said. “You can just kill me now, I guess.” (Y/N) burst into laughter. 

“It’s really okay, Sokka. I’m sorry for being mean to you as well. Everything you did made me mad, like how you constantly teased me, or how cute your ponytail looks, or how funny your jokes were...” 

“You...you really think my jokes are funny?” (Y/N) nodded before sliding to sit at his side. “Can I try something?” (Y/N) nodded again. Their faces were just inches apart and she could tell the fire was dying by the dim glow it left on Sokka’s cheeks. He touched her own cheek with his hand, before pulling her close and slowly connecting their lips. (Y/N) felt her face grow hot, but she still let her eyes close and reveled in the feeling of his kiss. They stayed like that for a while, long after the fire went out. 

When they returned to their friends the next morning, they walked hand in hand. Aang and Katara’s mouths dropped open and Toph stamped her feet on the ground. “There must be something wrong,” She said. “Are they...touching each other?” 

“Hey, guys!” Sokka said, a bright smile on his face. “Aang, how’s the foot doing?” 

“Uh, pretty good,” Aang said, pretending to lift his foot as if it were injured. 

“What’s um...going on here?” Katara asked. 

“Sokka and I had a pretty good stake out,” (Y/N) said. She let her hand slip from his. “I’m gonna get started on lunch.” 

“Alrighty,” Sokka said before planting a kiss on her cheek. He sighed happily as he watched her walk away. “Aang, I really have to thank you for pretending to hurt your foot.” 

---

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[camelove]

Quest for Camelove

Paring: Reader x Regret

Rating: T

Warnings: blood, violence, fainting, strong language, implied drinking

Summary: A regular trip to the Tavern sends you off searching for the vision of a soulmate... not your own, but of a random drunkard you’d been forced to sit beside for lack of any free seating.

A/N:  This post was made to serve as inspiration for the Camelove 2021 event which will take place from 8th till 14th of February. For more examples, follow the #Camelove2021 example posts tag! We look forward to seeing what you create for the event!

A writer, an artist and a giffer walk into a bar. 

You’re one of them. 

You’re good at what you do - if you do say so yourself - but recently, inspiration has been running dry. So, as one does when hit by a dry spell, you’re stopping by the Tavern in hopes of drowning your frustrations. 

As you make your way inside, you look around at the sorry bunch of sloshed sods, wrinkling your nose at the claggy smell of sweat and cringing away from a man who collapses against the table in front of you, having just been socked in the nose by one of the other customers. 

You sigh long-sufferingly. To your despair, there’s at least one person crammed into every nook in the damn place. If you want to sit anywhere, you’ll be getting up-close and personal with one of your fellow patrons. 

You weigh up your options - briefly considering just turning around and heading home - but eventually your thirst wins out, and you resolve to suck it up and squeeze yourself into whatever spot seems the least unappealing. You set about ordering a drink and, once armed with two pints of apple juice, you turn to deciding whose company you’re going to subject yourself to. In the end, you pick... 

A - The stooped elder currently engrossed in a book of lizard anatomy

B - The bloody-nosed man at your feet who’s slowly returning to consciousness 

C - The bloody-knuckled person responsible for the man at your feet who’s slowly returning to consciousness

D - The Barkeep who’s wringing out a cloth, looking like they wish it were the neck of their current customer

E - The customer who’s pissing off the Barkeep with inane complaints 

F - The person nursing their wrist after getting thoroughly trounced in an arm-wrestle

G - The person at the dart-board who’s started directing their shots towards the bard in the corner

H - The bard in the corner currently using their lute as a shield while simultaneously warbling about pixies with long, agile tongues

I - The person crying alone in the corner opposite to the bard

J - The person in the other corner currently shoving their tongue-- actually, scratch that, they look busy-- 

K - The cloaked figure at the final corner table who you see surreptitiously swapping a coin for a vial of… something

L - None. You turn on your heel and stalk out, planning to join the horses, only to find that someone has decided to hit the hay right there amongst the muck. They startle and wake as you approach. 

...who, you later find out is: 

A - Old Man Simmons 

B - Julius Borden

C - Balinor 

D - Mary the Barmaid 

E - Dragoon

F - Valiant

G - Elena

H- Gilli

I - Edwin Muirden

J - Tristan and Isolde

K - Will 

L - Tyr

You flop down and pray that for the love of Camelot, your unwanted companion does not decide to get chatty. 

“Hey.” 

You groan and let your head thump against the surface before you. 

“Hey,” they persist, leaning closer. You roll your head to the side in order to send them a scathing glare. They tut sympathetically. “Bad day? I feel you, mate.” 

You wonder to yourself what you’d done to deserve this. 

Your parasite companion keeps talking. 

“Everything’s just a bit much, lately,” they sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m not going crazy, you know?” ‘Oh, really?’ you want to snark back, but you keep your lips zipped in hopes that they’ll take a hint. 

They don’t. 

“I mean, it’s not every day a dragon says you have a soulmate.” They whistle lowly. “I mean - a soulmate. Can you imagine?” 

You can’t, actually. Mostly because you wonder who could stand the company of such a blabbering prat. If the dragon had told them they knew where they’d meet their doom, you’d have gladly taken up the role yourself. 

“Well,” they continue, oblivious to your plotting of their demise. “He didn’t say soulmate, exactly. He said “Destiny”, though I figure that’s basically the same thing. Still - I could meet the person meant to complete me - the apple of my eye, the other side of my coin, the courage to my strength…” 

You roll your eyes and hit them with a deadpan expression. 

“Bully for you.” Their eyes widen. 

“Oh, I hope not,” they say, sounding worried, “I wouldn’t want my soulmate to be an ass.” 

‘Why the hell not?’ you brood, ‘you’d be a matching set.’

They sigh from beside you, a melancholy look overtaking their features. 

“Wish I could go after them myself, but I’ve just… y’know. Got too much stuff on my plate to go tracking down some hidden stranger.” 

‘But you have ample time to talk one’s ear off? Glad to see you have your priorities in order.’ 

They’re twiddling their thumbs nervously. Their eyes keep flicking towards your face and away again. You purse your lips tighter. “Though... I know it’s not like I’m the only one who has a job to do. I’ll happily compensate, mind.” 

You take a sip of your juice. You look over at them. You sigh. 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

They perk up immediately at the sight of your attention. 

“I know you,” they blurt. You edge away slightly. “Not in - not in a creepy way. I just follow you.” You edge away another few inches.  “I mean- wait. The stuff you post out, I scroll past it, sometimes. I always like it.” 

“You mean ‘stroll’.” 

“I said that, yeah.” 

Despite yourself, you’re flattered. You put a lot of effort and pride into your work, and it’s always pleasant to hear that someone appreciates it. You grunt out a thanks. 

“I just mean-” they’re fidgeting again, and you wonder what has them so worked up. Clearly, they’re sitting on a question, and it’s just when they’re beginning to get a constipated colour to their cheeks that you sigh, heavily. 

“Just ask.”

“How much d’you want? To - uh - find my soulmate?” 

A shocked silence, before- 

“What?” 

“How much d’you want? A hundred? Two hundred? Mind you, I’m talking copper, I haven’t got a lot on me right now-” 

“Why-” you interrupt, wild with disbelief, “in Albion’s name would I want to go and find your Soulmate?” 

“Er…” They scratch at their head. “You mean you don’t know?” 

“Know what?” 

“What the dragon said.” 

“What did the dragon say?” 

“It said that- well…” They shuffle awkwardly. “He said that I just had to wait and… help would come to me. And I waited. And you came to me.” 

You stare. They wince. “He, uh... he said it was Destiny?”

You continue to stare. 

“Why me?”

“Well... I’m not... entirely sure.” They cough into their fist, avoiding your eyes. Then they perk up. “But you’ve done a lot of work for couples in the past, right? Put ‘em together in those lovely pieces of yours.”

You grit your teeth, grinding them together. 

“I create fanworks of them,” you hiss, “I don’t- play their bloody matchmaker, and I certainly don’t go gallivanting across the five kingdoms to do so, either.” 

“You wouldn’t have to go through all five kingdoms,” they have the audacity to say, as though that’ll soothe your ire, “only, like, two. Camelot and Mercia.” They deflate slightly at your unimpressed glare. “C’mon,” they whine, “You’re so skilled. I’m sure you could pull something off.” 

You continue to glare. You pin them with it until they squirm and flush, looking down. With a sigh, you turn away and stare into your juice. You drink. Slam the pint glass down, sharp. 

“I’ll go collect your damn damsel.”  

Their eyes light up. 

“You will?” they gush. “Cailleach below, if I didn’t have a Soulmate, I’d ask you to marry me.” 

You grimace. 

“Please don’t.” 

They babble out a recount of the cryptic information the dragon had given them. You nod here and there, mostly letting their words fly over your head, only taking a mental note of the stuff that might be of use. You’ll face many difficult decisions. Light will come to your aid. Take a note of any numbers you choose along the way. At the end of it, you’ll find a vision of the one you’re searching for. 

It’s more for yourself than them that you’re doing this, you say to yourself. Who knows; this trip might be the spark you need to fire up your creativity. Besides, you’ve been cooped up inside long enough. It’s high time you got out a bit. 

That’s how, half an hour and a few more pints of apple-flavoured drinks later, you’re picking thorns from your person after having fallen into a bush in the middle of the woods, and you find yourself faced with a fork in the path. One prong takes you through the forest. The other, through caves.

As you mull over which path you should take, you wonder what kind of person this elusive Soulmate will be. 

Will this pairing be sweet? Or will it be a bit more… unsavory? 

Once you've gone through and collected the numbers, click here

[snowdice]

A Twist of Fate {Part 1} (Everything’s Fine Universe) [Dice Roll 13]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Remus & Janus & Patton

Characters: Janus, Patton, Remus

Summary: It wasn’t unheard of for people to gain soulmarks later in life, but it was quite rare. Usually fate was set in stone. Yet, when one’s fated death was prevented, fate had to make some adjustments.

As he fell, Patton may have felt a strange prickling feeling across his skin. He however, was not paying attention to that, far too distracted and confused. All he knew was that by the time he hit the ground, both of his hands were covered with marks. Later when he went home he’d notice even more in other places, but the ones he noticed when he hit the ground were the obvious ones on his hands.

Then, there was Janus. Janus had only one soulmark on his body. At least. He had only one soulmark that hadn’t been burnt off years ago. When he landed on top of Patton, he did not notice the marks that suddenly appeared on his arms and face. Patton did, however, notice two little designs appear on him: one along the side of his nose and the other right below the scaring on the left side of his face. The second was already colored in by the time they hit the ground.

Universe: Soulmate AU and Superhero AU

Genre: The Dice Roll said fluff and it is... but... it’s more fluff and angst, hurt/comfort-ish

Notes: Child abuse, homelessness, malnutrition, acid burns, platonic soulmates 

“Found a 20-dollar bill!” Remus called. He was already on his belly halfway under a bush before Janus could move to stop him. Janus sighed. He guessed he was washing the boy’s clothes today. Again. Of course, $20 was probably worth the inconvenience. The nine-year-old wiggled and shimmied under the bush. “Got it!” he said.

“Good job,” Janus complimented. “Now come back out.”

“Now I’m stuck!” Remus informed him happily, giving a little wiggle.

“Why?” Janus groaned. He knelt down next to the still quite squirmy boy. “Stop kicking Remus,” he ordered. His feet stilled and Janus grabbed him by the ankles before yanking on him.

“Ouch!” Remus said, but Janus knew the difference between actually in pain Remus and being a whiny baby Remus and so he kept pulling.

“You.” He punctuated each word with a yank on his legs. “Knew. What. Would. Happen. When. You. Went. Under. There.”

Finally, on the last pull, Remus popped out of the bush. Janus fell backwards onto his butt. “Yeah, but I also knew you’d get me out and fall on your butt!” Remus said while sticking his tongue out.

Janus glared at the sky. “Why are you always such a gremlin?”

Remus giggled and climbed on top of Janus. He slapped the $20 bill down on his chest.

“The person who lost it was supposed to get bread and milk from the store for their dad,” Remus informed him. “When he lost it and couldn’t get the food, his dad said that he was a liar and probably spent it on something stupid. Then his dad hit him in the face and kicked him in the ribs.”

“I see,” Janus said evenly while internally wincing. It wasn’t the worst information to come pouring out of Remus’s mouth, but still. Ouch. He stroked the hair out of Remus’s face and got a gap-toothed smile in return. “Well, we’ll get some good use out of that money, huh?”

“Yeah!” Remus said. “We could get a cake! A whole cake!”

“I don’t know if a whole cake is the best financial decision,” Janus pointed out and got a wobbly lip in return. “But,” he smiled a bit, “we can buy a frosted cookie from the bakery when we get bread.”

“Yayyayyayyayyay!”

Janus gently pushed Remus off of him and he went rolling in a pile of giggles. “Come on Re,” he said, holding out a hand for him. Remus took it and swung their hands together between them. They walked towards the park entrance hand in hand.

Remus paused a couple of feet before the street. “Change now,” he instructed.

Janus did immediately. He stretched his body up about a foot and pulled it out a bit. He erased the burn marks littering the left side of his face and replaced them with a line of unmarred soulmarks framing the apple of his cheek. He carved a couple of age lines into his hands and around his eyes as well as a few more soulmarks on his wrist and hand. Remus adjusted his grip on the now slightly bigger hand without missing a step. Just as Janus finished the shift, a woman with a baby stroller turned the corner. Janus flashed her a smile and she continued past without a second glance.

He and Remus continued to walk until they were on the sidewalk outside of the park. Janus looked to Remus who was squinting into the air. A few seconds later, he pointed to the right. “Bad,” he said. Janus nodded and led him to the left.

The shift was already starting to put a strain on Janus, but he couldn’t let it go while on the street. Usually he could last longer, but he hadn’t gotten much to eat in the last week and had felt a bit dizzy even before forcing his body not only to shift, but to support a larger than natural form. He’d just have to deal. Remus would tell him if he was in danger of passing out anyway, and soon they’d be able to get some real food with the money they’d found today. There was $6.78 in addition to the $20 they’d just found, so they’d be set for a little while if they played their cards right.

Luckily, the bakery was only a couple of blocks from the park and they’d be able to buy some day-old bread for cheap to eat from there as well as the promised cookie to split.

Remus ripped himself away from Janus when they were a couple of feet from the bakery and slammed his little body through the door. He was up at the counter before Janus could get through the door.

“Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi!” he was saying, jumping up and down at the cash register.

Luckily the man just seemed amused rather than annoyed by Remus’s antics. “Hello Jimmy,” he said kindly.

“Hi!” Remus said one more time. “I get a cookie today!”

“Do you?” the man asked, amused.

“He does,” Janus confirmed. “He’s been impressively well behaved for once in his life.” Remus titled his head all the way back to stick his tongue out at him.

The man smiled at them softly. He’d never introduced himself in the time that Remus and Janus had been coming here, but he did have a nametag that read ‘Patton.’ Patton was here most days of the week. It was always him, a teenage girl, or the older woman who owned the place working. Janus and Remus agreed that he was the best option. He was always nice and never seemed to be annoyed with Remus (a feat even Janus sometimes struggled with). He’d even snuck them extra food sometimes which was always a nice surprise. “What’ll it be today?” he asked with a smile.

“Two loafs of day-old bread and whatever cookie Jimmy wants,” Janus said.

Patton nodded with a warm smile and moved to get their order. He was always so unflinchingly nice. They’d seen him interact with all sorts of people in the 6 months they’d lived in this neighborhood, and he was always kind to everyone almost… fatherly. Which was why his hands were always a surprise whenever Janus caught sight of them.

It was odd to see someone like him with unmarked hands. Janus’s own hands were unmarked (at least when he wasn’t shifted), but that made sense. Janus didn’t think he’d make a very good parent if he ever even had the opportunity. The one on his wrist for Remus was probably the closest he’d ever get and that was edging more into sibling territory. Yet, by the way Patton looked at Remus and all other children that came into the bakery (at least the children who looked like children), one would expect his hands to be riddled with marks. Chest unmarked? Sure, he just didn’t want to be all gross and kissy with someone. Face unmarked? His parents sucked or weren’t around like Remus’s. Arms? No siblings or sibling like relationships. But, hands? That was a surprise, at least for Patton. He just seemed like… someone who would want to be someone’s dad. He didn’t even have any anywhere near his hands from what Janus had observed. He had two already black ones on his cheeks, probably from his parents, and he almost had to have some friendship ones on his back, but Janus had yet to catch sight of any others.

“Which cookie do you want?” Patton asked.

“Ooo ooo, um,” Remus said. “Should I get the one with a smiley face or the one with the flowers?” he asked.

“Hmm,” Patton contemplated. “How about this. If you could pick any design to be on a cookie, what would it be?”

“Moggie!” Remus said without question. “Moggie’s my favorite!”

“Well, I was decorating a cake a bit ago and I have a bunch of different colored frosting already out and in piping bags so why don’t I go make you one with Moggie-Man on it?”

Remus gasped. “Really?!”

“Of course!” Patton said, eyes fond on an enthusiastic Remus. “Anything for one of my best customers.”

They were hardly his best customers. They consistently only bought the marked down items like the day-old bread that was only a dollar a loaf. Yet, Janus wasn’t going to argue when Remus was so incredibly excited, even if hand frosting a cookie would take longer and Janus was already a bit unsteady on his feet. Instead of ruining the fun, he sat down at one of the closer tables and took out the heal of the bread loaf. He technically hadn’t paid for it yet, but it’d be fine. He shoved it in his mouth, willing his body to accept the offering of carbs and remain upright.

Remus was bouncing up and down while squeaking as Patton went into the back and returned a moment later with bags of purple, black, and grey icing. Janus rolled his eyes even as he smiled through his mouthful of bread.

“Did you know Moggie once broke his collar bone fighting Speed Bullet when he was only 19?!” Remus gushed. “It was so cool! Speed Bullet was moving too fast and Moggie couldn’t teleport in time and he got thrown off a barn. He would have broken his neck and died if he hadn’t ended up in a big pile of hay.”

“O-oh,” Patton replied.

“The hay had cow poop in it!”

“How do you know he was 19?” Patton asked.

“Uh…” Remus said. The ‘oops’ was clear in his eyes, but he recovered easily. “I invented that part. I make things up sometimes.”

“Ah, well, that’s very creative,” Patton said as he finished up the cookie. He handed it over the counter to Remus who took it with a wide grin and proudly showed Janus the cartoon version of the superhero on it. It was really good, especially considering it was done in icing.

“Thank you,” Janus said, standing up and walking to the counter.

“Yes! Thank you, Mister Bakery Guy!”

“It was no trouble,” Patton replied. He was watching Remus with a grin.

Janus coughed, and he looked back up.

“Oh right!” he said. “$4.52.”

Janus handed over 3 of the dollar-bills they’d gotten earlier and counted out the rest in change.

“Thanks!” Patton said, taking the money. “Have a good day you two.”

“Bye,” said Janus. He shooed Remus out of the door and across the street into an alley. “Anything bad?” he asked when they got there. Remus looked up from his cookie for a moment and thought. He shook his head. Janus sighed and let himself shrink back to normal with a groan.

“You feel bad,” Remus informed him.

“Thanks for the info,” Janus replied. “Very helpful.”

Remus frowned at him and offered the cookie. “You can bite off Moggie’s head,” he offered.

Janus chuckled. “You go ahead and do that. I’ll eat his clavicle.”

“Good choice!” Remus said before taking a bite of the icing superhero’s head. When he offered the cookie to Janus again, Janus took a bite. Then, Remus took another bite. They finished the cookie off in that way.

“Okay,” Janus said. “We have about an hour to get groceries before the shop down the block closes, and then we’ll go home.” Home at the moment was a forgotten about shed in an old community garden a few streets away. Remus said they’d freeze to death in the winter if they tried to stay there, so they’d have to find somewhere else soon. The leaves were just starting to turn though, so they probably had enough time to figure something else out, but they did need to be working on it.

Janus pushed himself to his feet. The bread and half a cookie had helped, and the shifting this time only burnt a little bit. It would be even better once they had something with protein and fat after going to the grocery store. Janus took Remus’s hand again and they made their way to the shop.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 2

[katefiction]

The fandom fiction: a joint fiction by the royal fandom

2013

This was a round robin story where each person continued a part of the story. Sadly I can not locate the end of the story therefore it ends on the cliffhanger! However people still wanted me to post this.

katefiction

Eight pm on a chilly night, and Kate sat on the couch under a warm mohair blanket, her legs resting on William’s lap.

William stared intently at the tv screen, his thumbs working rapidly on the games controller he was holding. To his left on the single seater couch, Harry did the same.

‘Come on…

(I can not find the rest of this part. The other parts are complete)

iminlovewiththecambridges

There was short silence for a second between the three royals.  All that could be heard was the light patter of Lupo’s footsteps scampering around.

‘Hang on, I don’t quite understand’ said Kate breaking the silence, ‘You’ve really got me confused.’

On the screen of the glowing iPad was a newspaper article.  The contents had clearly baffled both William and Kate.

The headline read: PRINCE HARRY HAIR TRAUMA. GINGER HAIR DYE USED BY PRICE HARRY CAUSES BAULDNESS.

‘Wait, it’s a joke… more made up rubbish’ replied William returning back to his plate cleaning duties.

‘Nooo! But it’s the truth! Wills WHAT AM I GOING TO DO? I can’t have a head like yours; I need to keep up my appearance for the ladies!’ screamed Harry, who very dramatically fell to the floor. ‘WHAT IS LIFEEE!?’

Chuckling, Kate gave Harry a small kick and started to whip him with the wet wash cloth.

‘Get up! The floors dirty drama Queen.’

‘Sorreeyy, why would the floor be dirty anyway if you’ve cleaned it?’

‘Don’t be so rude!’ Kate said sternly.

William looked at Kate a bit puzzled.

‘Kate it’s just banter.’ William said soothingly trying to calm his wife down.

Harry got up and cautiously made his way back to the living room and started to watch the TV out of the way.

‘Oi! Harry, don’t get too engrossed in Keeping up with the Kardashians. Top Gears on, it’s supposed to be a real good one tonight.’ William shouted into the next room.

‘But I thought we were supposed to go through the catalogue tonight. Y’know, the one with the baby furniture.’ Kate replied softly.

‘Sweetness, how are we supposed to go through baby furniture when we don’t even know the sex of the baby yet? Plus, like I said it’s supposed to be a really good episode tonight.’

Kate gave William a dirty look. ‘Oh don’t worry then, babies don’t need furniture anyway.’ Said Kate rather sarcastically, and with that she turned and swiftly made her way out of the kitchen.

‘C’mon, Kate. Kate! Catherine!’ shouted William as he ran after her down the corridor.

Late at night the corridor of Kate and Williams’s apartment was unsettlingly peaceful.  A sort of calm before the storm.

The paintings lining the corridor glared down at William as his Italian handmade shoes trod their way along the royal blue carpet.

‘Kate wait, sorry. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings and I know I shouldn’t mess your hormones about.’ Stated William apologetically.

Kate stopped in her tracks nearing the top of the staircase.

‘Hormones! How dare you put this down to hormones! I cook and clean for you and all you do all day is play video games with your overly dramatic brother. I gave up so much for you, and you never show any appreciation.’ Kate bellowed.

‘Whoa, Kate watch your step’

‘Don’t tell me what to do. You’re not the boss-‘

Before Kate could finish her hormonal rant to a startled Prince William, she lost her footing and fell down the staircase.

williamandkatelove

In a second William runs towards Kate and saves her. Harry came out of the living room rushing towards them “what happened he asked” he asked, but they both didn’t say a word.

For almost half an hour they both stood in there place without moving, lost in each others eyes. Harry could her their hearts beating so fast and load so he asked again, still with no answer.

Kate tried to apologies many times through the night, but William was very angry to hear her.” Sometimes you just let your anger controls you and for what nothing” he yelled at her then he left her standing at the staircase by her own with her eyes felled with tears.

The next morning Kate was so sick, she didn’t think about what happened until she met William at the breakfast table “are you okay” William asked “you are very pale today, should I call the doctor?”

“help me William am very dizzy” whose were her last word before she fainted

William swiftly placed his hand under her head “Kate Kate can you hear me love”.

Making the matter worse he found out she was bleeding. William felt as if his heart stopped …..

writingroyal

"Harry!" William cried out, holding his wife close.

Harry, who had crashed on the couch, popped up. "What? Jesus, I'm always getting yelled at in this bloody house."

"Kate's bleeding!...Fainted!" William yelled again.

He pressed his fingers to her neck. Still breathing, good.

Harry scrambled into the kitchen, eyes wandering frantically from William to Kate.

"Should I ring for an ambulance?" he asked.

William nodded. "Yes, get me a pillow from the couch while you're at it."

Harry hurried back into the living room, pulled his phone from his discarded jeans, and grabbed a pillow of the couch. He handed the pillow to William while he dialed the number for an ambulance.

William placed the small throw pillow under his wife's head and tried to get her to come to. Behind him he could hear his brother yelling Kensington's address to the operator.

"Yes, I am serious...Kensington Palace!" Harry shouted, shooting William a incredulous look as he tugged at his unruly hair.

Kate was still breathing, regularly. She looked like she was asleep except for the small stain of blood that had pooled in between her pant legs.

The baby!

"Tell them to hurry, Harry," William told him, becoming frantic.

He stroked Kate's cheek. "Hun, sweetheart...can you hear me?"

Kate's mouth twitched at the corner and then a quiet groan passed between her lips.

"Open your eyes," William demanded, half hysterical.

Kate eyes fluttered much longer than William would have liked but they opened nonetheless. "What am I doing on the ground?"

Harry had just hung up from the phone. "Fainted."

"Oh," Kate said.

William looked up at Harry. "Are they coming?"

Harry nodded.

Luckily, the ambulance arrived in a matter of minutes. Although, William and Harry thought it had taken much longer. Kate was placed on a stretcher and taken away in the ambulance, William riding alongside of her, to St. Barts.

Harry knocked on the hospital room door.

"Come in," William's voice came from behind the heavy wood door.

Harry let himself in and the whirring and beeping of the machines hit his ears, along with the sound of the low-quality television that hung on the wall.

Kate was dressed in a hospital gown with flimsy blankets piled around her legs. William sat beside her.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked.

Kate shrugged. "Just a bit nauseous, is all. They said I am a bit dehydrated which could have caused the fainting."

"They're still running tests," William interjected, squeezing his hands together that they were turning red. "To see if the baby is..."

"Hello there," the doctor said as he stepped into the room. He was dressed in a white lab coat and held a clipboard under his arm.

"How are we doing?" he asked, cheerfully.

"Just want to know the results," William said, trying to get news as soon as he possibly could.

"Well, the tests all came back fine. The babies--"

"What?" Harry said.

"Surely, you mean baby. As in the singular fetus growing inside that woman right there," William said, his voice high and his finger pointed at Kate.

passionatelyroyal

William awoke in a cold sweat. He glanced over at his wife, cuddled in to his side, hand rested on her stomach sleeping. He sighed. It had all been a dream. He rolled over and glanced at the clock. 7:45AM. he could wake her.

"Baby, I need you to wake up." William pleaded with his wife, gently shaking her awake.

"Whats the matter? She mumbled, rolling over to face her husband.

"I think you're having twins. I had this dream and a doctor said that you were having babies and I couldn't believe him but he said you were. " William whispered, grabbing Kate's hand.

"I think you're crazy. But lucky for you, I have an appointment today so we can get to the bottom of this." She responded.

Later that day, the couple sat in a London doctors office, hands intertwined as they waited for the scan to start. The doctor entered the room and began the scan.

"Well it looks like we were wrong. There are more than one." The doctor said, continuing the scan.

William looked at Kate with disbelief. It had only been a dream.

"How many more?"

phff

When the news finally hit, the world went undeniably crazy.  News articles, television segments, blogs, magazine spreads.  The news that the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge were expecting twins had caused quite the stir among the royal watchers.

A Royal Pair.

There were those who were thrilled; going gaga over the idea of two bundles of joy.  There were those who were annoyed; not at all excited about two more royals to deal with.  And there were those who were simply enthralled with the logistics of it all; speculating about the idea that the first one born would someday be King and the thought that, in a surgical situation, the DOCTOR might be the one making such an enormous decision about the future Sovereign.

But, as the world began to take up the idea of royal twins, The Family was just beginning to digest the news.  For the most part, everyone was happy—thrilled for the young couple.  The Windsors and The Middletons alike.  All were excited.

Except for one person.  One person who, when faced with the news, did all that they could to keep from bursting apart.

thecambridges

Jessica Hay.

Her name was universally known. William and Kate were never allowed to forget her and royalists the world over were never spared a single article without the mention of her name. What nobody knew however, was why she lent her name to so many inaccurate stories.

Would she share why if people asked? Possibly. But nobody ever cared that much. They just used her name as a source and handed her the money in return.

But it wasn’t about the money, not at all. It was jealousy. Jealousy at the fact that Kate had been the one to marry William. Jealousy that it was Kate’s face on the front of the newspapers. And now, jealousy that she was going to have two beautiful babies.

Truth was, she had dreamed of marrying William just as much as Kate had, if not more. She had wanted her name on the front of every woman’s magazine in hundreds of different countries. And above all, she wanted a baby.

But life had chosen Kate over her and now she wanted revenge.

Up until the announcement of twins, adding her name to fake stories was enough. It hurt Kate and it got her name in the magazines.

But this was the final straw.

It was time to step things up a notch.

mischievousmiddletons

It would take her a few days to come up with something huge, something that would plunge the Cambridges into a scandal so deep they’d never escape it.

As Jessica plotted, William and Kate arrived home, eager to alter their baby preparations to include two children, not just one. Everything would have to be doubled, such as toys, furniture, blankets, diapers, cribs, clothes and everything else they had put in place for the arrival of their baby.

A few days later, the two lovebirds stared into the newly refurbished nursery at their royal home, with the news of two royal babies still sinking in.

Kate leaned into Will and sighed heavily, “Twins…”

“Don’t worry babykins, we’ll handle it” Will wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

He was always mindful of his wife’s baby bump, but now that there were two Baby Cambridges growing in there, he was even more careful with her.

“I know we’ll handle it” She gently pecked his neck, “It’s my womb I’m worried about…”

Will tightened his arms around his wife’s shoulders, hoping to reassure her with his hold, but a series of doors flying open and rushed footsteps quickly ruined the moment they were having. Their private secretary, Jamie Lowther-Pinkerton approached with an exasperated expression on his face and a tabloid newspaper in his hands.

“William, Kate…” he took a moment to gather himself, then held the paper out.

“Jessica Hay is at it again”

hiddlesandcambridge / williamcatherinelove

Before Jamie could get another word in Kate turned to William and told him, "I'm not even going to listen to what she is up to. I don't care any more. I'm going for a lie down. I have a feeling that our little grapes are going to be keen on football when they're older."

"Okay babykins. You get some rest and I'll end this once and for all. I love you." They shared a kiss and Kate left.

William turned to Jamie, "Right then Jamie, what has she been saying now?" They turned out of the nursery and towards William's office.

"Well, Sir. She has claimed that the twins are not your's, but Harry's." William's eyes went from blue to black, but Jamie wasn't finished, "She also claims she has proof from Kate herself."

William's face just blew up into sheer anger. Jamie himself had never seen him like that. "SHE HAS DONE WHAT?"

"Sir, you have to calm down. This is not going to help Kate or the twins if she sees you like this." Jamie has always had a calming influence on William like that.

"You know what Jamie, you're right. I need to talk to her. Can you find me Jessica Hay's address and phone number. No one is going to do this to my family and get away with it."

royalserenade-alwayskate / catherinemfan

Kate woke with a start. She reached out to the side of bed, hoping that William would be there to provide her with the warm, fuzzy feeling that could only be obtained from him alone.

He wasn’t there. There was this tugging feeling in her that made her feel extremely uncomfortable, and it wasn’t the twins.

There was pacing footsteps downstairs and whispers of the staffs. Kate remembered what happened before she took a nap, so she went down to asked about William and what he had done about Jessica Hay and her allegations.

They fall into an immediate silence when Kate approached them.

“Where is William?” Kate asked Jamie.

“Kate,” Jamie begin and then stopped to clear his throat. “William.. He..”

Jamie almost never stammered as long as Kate had known him. He had always go straight to the point. And the others, they were staring at her, bleary-eyed.

Kate wanted to burst out with questions. About Jessica Hay, about what she had said, about William and what he had done. But as she put two and two together from her instinct, Jamie’s stammering and the staffs’ looks, she was nearly sure that something had happened when William attempt to put a stop to Jessica Hay’s ridiculous behavior. And that something, according to her instinct, wasn’t good.

phfanfic-againstheodds

“Jamie,” Kate said, forcing her voice to keep steady, even though that isn’t at all how she felt. “Don’t dance around the subject. Where is my husband?”

Jamie cleared his throat. “I’m sorry Kate, Will is being held at the police station.”

Kate blinked. “I’m sorry. What? Why?”

Jamie straightened his shoulders. “Jessica Hay called the police. She is filing assault charges against William.”

Kate’s hands instinctively went to her belly; a protective, motherly motion even though this had nothing to do with the twin’s safety. But, this was their father who was in trouble, and it was the only kind of protection she could offer anyone at that moment.

“Assault?” Kate whispered. “As in, she’s saying he hit her?”

Jamie nodded. “Yes.”

“Oh my God.”

“Kate…”

“Jamie, my husband didn’t hit anybody. He’s never hit anybody,” Kate cried.

“I know. Believe me, I know. But she called and they had to take him in. This isn’t like the old days where the Royal Family can’t be touched. They can’t keep this under wraps. They have to treat it seriously. Especially since…”

“Especially since she will go to the media,” Kate finished for him. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

Jamie sighed. “She already has.”

Tears sprang to Kate’s eyes and she fought them as hard as she could. She fought to press the lump in her throat down, to keep herself under control.

“Kate, we are doing everything we can. Will is cooperating. The Protection Officers that were there will clear his name. But she’s lit up the press.”

The tears slipped from Kate’s eyes. “She’s telling the entire world that William beats women.”

“No one will believe it,” Jamie tried to assure her.

“Some will,” Kate whispered. “And it will never be forgotten.”

“Kate, we’ve done all we can do for right now, but if there is anything I can do for you…”

Kate immediately cut in. “Take me to my husband, Jamie. Take me to William.”

(The End. Please do get in touch if you remember the ending.)

[sloppy-butcher]

Waitin’ On a Superman -  Chapter 3 : Like Pulling Teeth

(The Hillbilly (Max Thompson Jr.) x female!reader)

notes: i just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and enjoy what i have managed to produce so far <3 its really helps me with my confidence and such

also i have made a spotify playlist of songs that i personally listen to when getting in the mood of the story. i would like to share it but only if yall would like to hear it ahaha  er anyway, thank you again <3 

Previous ; Next 

Pulling your head free from the grasp of the hay straws felt like something akin to being born. All at once you were alive again, breathing in the cool barn air having just awoken from the land of musky earth. It was refreshing; cleansing; jarring. The dream world fell away and noise and smell bombarded you, crashing in like unforgiving waves against a wayward boat. You were confused by your surroundings, head turning around frantic for clues, until your eyes landed upon familiar yellow and you remembered everything.

You remember walking. You remember the dog. And you remember him. 

It was brighter now, your mind more inclined to function as intended without fog or muck to slow production. You remember his voice, the sound of his heavy footsteps, the way in which he spoke and how he had helped you. Kindness, even small as his was, was such a rare oddity here, strangers only being associated with unforgivable violence and cruelty. But he was kind, offered you rest and protection where others would simply chase you out. It surprised you, more now than it did when it had occurred. How strange, how very strange indeed.

As you stood up from your make-shift bed, dusting stray straws off your jeans and t-shirt, a part of you started to construct a way of saying thank you to the man. Though you had nothing to give, nothing of material value, you somehow felt obligated to present to him your utmost appreciation for his generosity. It was an ingrained and practiced habit that consumed you until you started to focus more on the man himself.

You remember feeling oddly familiar with him - something about his voice perhaps? Or the way in which he walked and presented himself? Whatever it was, it triggered something from you, a deep, visceral response that made your stomach grow heavy with lead and your palms begin to sweat. And the more you tried to identify the specifics of your sudden upheaval, bringing it to the forefront of your attention, the heavier the response became and the more panicked you began to feel. Dread crept up your back and nestled into your shoulder whenever you thought about him. Something about trying to remember him made you feel … terrified. There was simply no other word to describe it. He terrified you. You just couldn’t understand why.

You were stuck at a crossroads. A part of you wanted to find the man and personally thank him for everything, to pay forward his kindness using gestures of companionship and see how far one could push this unique experience. The other part of you never wanted to meet the man ever again, demanding you flee at once and never looked back. Each road pulled at you, neither one able to one-up the other in strength and appeal thus leaving you at an uncomfortable, pointed balance. You rub your face with your hands, sighing as you tried to sway yourself to make a decision. You wished you were back asleep.

Nothing offered itself as assistance to your plea as you paced the barn and with no other option, you relented your fruitless battle and walked out into the night. Whatever will happen, will happen - whether that be you see him again or you finally manage to escape the corn-maze, you were going to meet it head-on regardless. 

You stood on the border of the clearing between the barn safety and the yellow ocean, gazing into the sweet abyss that had been devouring you for so long. You wanted to stay at the barn, at the only sign of land where you could not drown. But you remembered his warning and with a heavy sigh you set off. Without looking back you stepped out into the field, casting yourself once more off to sea, letting go of the red barn and allowing the wind to swallow you whole and carry you to wherever it wished. However, you had only been walking for a few minutes before you heard the heavy panting of the dog behind you. So this is what has been decided. No fighting it, no running.

“Hello again.” You stopped and breathed in, gathering your confidence in the face of the beast, willing yourself not to give in to the unjustified fear.  You had no reason to be so afraid, he had done nothing to you. Not yet. “I was hoping I’d find you again.” Your voice was calmer, collecting itself in idle conversation. You slowly, careful of quick movement so as not to frighten him or yourself, roll your head around your position, trying to spot any sign of the man hiding away. “I wanted to thank you for your generosity.”

“Did you sleep?” The man answered almost immediately, somewhat throwing you off balance. From how reserved and mild he was during the previous encounter you were sure you’d have to sweet talk him a little more to get him to open up. But his eagerness was not unwelcomed and you gave yourself over to talking.

“I did. On the hay pile in the barn. It was…” You paused from a moment, all cylinders in your brain firing in an attempt to find the appropriate word to describe your rest, “...great, I suppose.” At this he paused, probably to take in your response and work out a retort. In the silence something stirred, curling itself into your already weak stomach. You shooed it away and willed him to speak.

“Donny always liked the hay. It makes a good bed.” He said finally, drawing your mind away from the coldness in your palms and to his voice. You tilt your head at his mention of ‘Donny’. Was he referring to the same pig from the other night? Or in some weird way was he calling you ‘Donny’? For now you let the confusion slide and instead pushed on with the discussion.

“Do you not sleep?” You asked, your head continuing to timidly scan your surroundings. If he was opposed to your efforts to locate him, the man did not show it and without him actively stopping you, you endured without complaint. You practically heard the man shrug.

“Don’t try to.” He mumbled halfheartedly. 

“It's because you’re stuck, like me. Right?” His perplexed quiet was enough of an indicator for you to example yourself. “I mean, you’re stuck here in this corn field. Just like me. I may not know exactly how long I have been here but I know it’s been a while.” You look down at your hands, fingernails dirty from stains you could not remember getting. “I’ve been walking through this field forever and yet I never reach a fence. Or a house. Or anything.” Speaking your fears into life was somewhat cathartic for you, reaching out to this strange person with a hand trembling and unsure made you hope beyond reason that he could sympathize with your plea. To be human and experience and understand the toils of another as if they were your own. You lifted your eyes to the corn and towards the position where you guessed him to be. You smiled, lips chapped and cracking from the stretch but persevering regardless. It hurt you to grin, a gesture you had not partaken in for so long that you had almost forgotten how to even do it. You hoped that it at least looked more sincere than it felt.

“You are stuck.” The man replied in his ever gruff and rocky voice, like stones crashing around in an engine. “I am stuck sometimes. The corn is like mud. It sinks.” 

“Sometimes?” You inquire, an eyebrow lifting as your interest peaked. He grunted, sounding as if nodding with force.

“I can leave only when Boy is called. Called by the spider in the sky.” Suddenly, you jumped and gasped loudly.

“You know about that thing!?” You twirl on your feet, spinning around the corn looking for any hint of the man. Your eyes were ablaze with glory, ironic relief washing over your body at his words. Here you found another lost soul. Another person who could feel the sky pulsing and eating. Someone who knew that there was more to this world than just psycho killers wielding axes. “I thought I was the only one who could sense it! No one else at the campfire believed me when I said there was something up there.” Your victory waned at the mention of the campfire. Your smiling dwindled and your movement stopped, eyes clouded and downcast. The campfire? The others. When was the last time you had seen them? The last time you had seen anyone for the fact? You could barely remember their faces. They were all a blur like mist on a foggy bathroom mirror, there were faces but no details. Names but no meaning. You suddenly felt very lonely and longed to go back to that horrible campfire with those equally horrible people. 

A most nasty habit that people had - the want to flock together like sheep. Though to be with people irked you, riding up with an ill-fitting pair of jeans on tender skin, there was no denying that your heart ached when it realized it was alone. You always said you liked being alone but you always hated being lonely.

“Will you walk with me?” Your voice was distant as your thoughts drifted back to the people waiting at the campfire, your tongue moving before your mind would react. “Will you walk with me to the fence?” In your stupor, the man’s reaction to your request went unnoticed. He was shocked, gawking at you with wide, disbelieving eyes and his mouth agape. He examined you from head to toe, tearing you apart with suspicious eyes, trying to uncover if you were attempting to hurt him or not. Was this some kind of joke? Were you going to laugh at him? You knew that there was no real fence, no true boundary to this place, and yet you wanted to exhaust yourself trying to find it? He was baffled by your ignorant persistence and resorted to studying you harder for any cracks in your outward appearance. Where he expected to find half-hidden malice, he only saw sadness. You were sad, he knew what it looked like on people. And it wasn’t fake sadness either, not the kind that people on the T.V wore when something bad happened. Yours was real, he could smell it. 

“I will walk with you. To the fence.” The man replied softly, speaking at a volume that was tentative and hesitant, a part of him still remaining apprehensive to your next actions. You raise your head at his confirmation, a glimmer of your former smile returning to your lips.

“Thank you.” You lowered your head in a meager bow and after a moment debating whether to let him lead or you, you walked off in a direction you presumed to be forward with the man setting off behind you.

All through the walk you racked your brain from conversation topics; lovely weather we are having? What do you think someone would do with all this corn? There were so many different options to choose from yet each fell flat when pitted against possibility. Try as you might, you just could not think of anything to say. It also did not help that that horrible, foreboding feeling had followed you out there, trailing you like a dark cloud. With the man so close your familiar fear kicked itself into overdrive. There was just something so recognizable about him, something dreadful and vile. But what? What about him had spooked you to this extent? Sure, his voice was raspy and congested and his breathing was that of a sleeping beast, but his words and the soft tones he used were all of that of a boy. A simple youth who bled this pure form of compassion and slowness. Such a contradicting feeling he gave off, to be the reason you wanted to flee yet drawing you in with a need to know more about him. You yearned for the talking of frivolous topics to distract you from the gnawing panic that resided in your stomach but the rivers ran dry of inspiration and you were left to walk in pitiful, heavy silence.   

In one last, desperate grab at distraction, you started to pay attention to his footsteps, a task made easier in the barren landscape of only corn and wind. His pace was loud and large, landing with each step in a heavy stomp. He must be very tall, you supposed. Or very big. The weight of the sound, after being taken into consideration, was not deemed as important to focus on when you noticed the odd rhythm he had. Instead of a consistent 1-2 pace that most people would have, the man had a rather jolted one. The space between thumps were uneven and gave you the impression that he had some kind of limp or poor leg. In a strange sense it almost sounded like a heartbeat.

Something flickered at your revelation. It was such a unique walk pattern that it triggered a memory in you, a vision of running and hiding away and the sound of a chainsaw. The fear flexed itself in your stomach. It did not help when the breeze shifted and you managed to catch a whiff of that previously undisclosed smell. His smell. The coppery smell of fresh blood. The coldness spread further, you mind reeling as the fingers of your panic threatened to grab you. You remember that walk. You remember that breathing. You remember that heartbeat.

You squeeze your eyes shut, mentally willing your body to calm down and stop racing to conclusions. Stop thinking about him. Stop thinking about the dog. Stop- 

You come to a sudden stop when you realize that he was not behind you anymore. Snapping your eyes open you were greeted by the sight of the dilapidated red barn and its open doors. Disappointment mingled with your fluttering chest, terror mixing well with despair in a deadly concoction.

“I really am stuck here.” You mumbled to yourself, hands falling from your arms to hang useless at your sides. “There really is no way out.”

“Not unless Donny is called.” The man, oblivious to your dawning anguish, muttered from somewhere to your right. Though you knew that ultimately that you were never going to find a way out of the fields and that even thinking about it would only cause misery, that moment when your feeble hope died you were sure your heart had stopped altogether. This was your eternity now, to barely be alive when drowned in yellow. Nothing to run for, nothing to fight towards. Listlessly you feel your body regain itself, standing tall at the edge of everything. If this was all there is, then what are you scared for?

“Donny can stay at the barn again. Boy will be here soon. Stay. Sleep and I will come back.” You heard the man shuffle to leave and before you could even think you shouted at him.

“Wait!” The world shook in the wake of your outburst, such volumes never being reached in this sea of feigned tranquility. “Wait please.” You exhale, finally feeling the full weight of the fear you had tried so fiercely to run away from, settle mercilessly upon your chest. “I know you.” With your eyes looking at the ground, you turn your head over your shoulder towards the man. “I know you so there is no need to hide anymore. If I am to be stuck here with you, I want to see your face. And know your name.” He did not respond right away, a part of you suspecting that he had simply left before you had even asked your question, unaware of everything. But you could still hear his breathing, coming now in hollow gasps. 

“No one likes my face.” He answered, voice surprisingly dangerous and bitter. You did not shy away from him however, did not give into the rising uneasiness of the mood. 

“But I already know you. And I don't remember not liking it.” That was a blatant lie and you wished that he could not see through it. There was a growl.

“No! No! No one likes my face!” He was shouting, angry words springing forth from the same person who was so soft spoken just moments before. You turn more of your attention to him, your eyes still lowered allowing yourself one last opportunity to back down. You did not. There was nothing for you to go to if you backed off now.

“Please.” You knew he could not resist your request when you presented it in such a placid manner. There was a shout, an explosion of noise and violence and you jumped at its severity. You heard the rush of footsteps leap out from the field as a shadow loomed itself over you.

“Look! Look Donny! Look at Max and laugh at him!” He was right behind you, his hot breath bursting against your neck in towering waves. Without giving yourself the chance to consider anything, you spun around and came face to face with the fuming dog, his teeth bared.

At the sight of him, your knees went weak and the floor beneath you fell away. You wanted to scream, to run away, to give in to horror and fear and go hysterical and wild. He was hideous, truly monstrous and hardly even a man at all. It was flesh at war, torrents of skin fighting itself as it connected head to neck and neck to torso. Beneath that storm was a face pushing through, with a mouth wide, teeth crooked and eyes like fiery pinpricks in the dark. He was awful to look at yet your eyes could not be torn away. He stole from you your sanity with nothing but the mere look of his being alone. 

Though your mind clouded with uncontrollable panic and fear, you could still recognize the man, his face unforgettable. It was him alright, no more denying it, no more pushing it away. You had known it was him from that very first encounter yet foolishly you had rejected everything, ignoring every piece of awful evidence that had sat itself right in front of your nose, all in favor of self desires. You wanted him to be someone else. You needed this strange man to be a good person whom you could hold on to, you could reach out for. But as the cruelest twist of fate, he was the complete opposite.

It was the Hillbilly - the monster who hunted you and the others with that wicked chainsaw of his. Nothing but a beast made of only the poorly defined form of man, a shape with no purpose other than to kill. You knew it was him from the moment you heard him behind you, breathing like that roaring engine he always did. You never forget the sound of the dog trying to kill you. You had been weak, allowing him to get close enough to you to practically have his bloody hands wrapped around your throat. 

You wanted to run, to flee and try to live just that little bit longer - give your body and soul over to inherent prey instinct. But as you looked into those blazing, hateful eyes framed by grotesque threads of dirty skin, you found that all you could do was wait. It was like facing off against an oncoming train, reckless and unstoppable coming at you at full-speed fuming with noxious smoke. You had seen this movie before and knew how the story ended - he would kill you and leave your body for the rats. 

Every fiber of your being screamed at you to leap out of its path but something stronger and more persistent held you tightly in place. He was not moving so why should you? He was not attacking so why should you run? He was talking so why should you not listen? Once again you clung to the belief that if this man was able to talk and reason then there was something human inside him, something that could be grasped and felt. Regardless of all logic and reason you sought that something and waited for him to offer you another chance to try to dig it out of him. If this was the end, then you would not die with your back turned.

“Hello Max.” You said, your voice a quiet light in the gloomy atmosphere. You saw him visibly retract at your calmness, his eyes darting around your whole body in search of something, anything that would indicate malcontent. “It's nice to meet you.” His stupor lasted only a second longer before he roared and lunged forward, hand twitching around the handle of his chainsaw.

“Donny always laughs! Donny is always scared!” He reeled his head back violently, stretching up into his full, powerful height. You sank into his shadow but did not waver in your stance. Come rain or ruin, you could not find the effort to move your feet even an inch. “Everyone is meant to be laughing at Max! Everyone is meant to be scared!” He brought his attention back down to you and you shuddered under his glare, trying beyond anything not to flinch in his presence. “Donny is always scared!” 

You waited a moment, allowing for his fuming words to cool and settle in the night air before answering with yours. “Donny is scared. They are terrified.” Max tilted his chin inwards to his chest, looking as if preparing to attack, a deep gnarl resonating forth from somewhere in that twisted body. “But not of you, Max. Donny is scared of your anger. Of your…” Your eyes drift to the chainsaw clenched tightly in his hand. Max’s own attention followed yours and for an instant you saw him relent his hold on the weapon. He shot his head back to you, had he had eyebrows they would have been furrowed with muddled anger. 

“Donny lies! You lie! You laugh!”

“But Donny is not.” You retorted, your tone never raising above a mellow reassurance. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the blackness offer you strength as your confidence crumbled. You opened them again and, with a slow, soothing exhale, let your lips extend into the faintest of smiles. You gave him everything in that moment, putting forward all compassion and comfort you could muster into your eyes and smile for him to consume and judge. “I am not lying. And I am not laughing at you Max.” This earned a slack-jawed, wide-eyed expression from the man, his emotions, though messy under his tangled flesh, portraying clearly on his face. He was completely and utterly astonished. 

You watched as he took in your coolness, sucking from you all the serene and hushed energy you had given. He shuts his eyes, slamming his jaw closed and shaking his head vigorously as if trying to shake something loose. He roared again, a most horrible sound that carried for miles in every direction across the field, making the corn around you shake from the sheer magnitude of his power. He raised his empty hand and started pounding his fist into his ear, screaming louder and harder with each contact. You were startled by his reaction and by the way he jumped so quickly from seeking your comfort to out-right rage. Without thinking you step closer to him, a hesitant hand lifting to reach for him. 

Suddenly he jumped forward at you, coming so close that you can feel the heat of his anger eminent off his heaving chest. He stands over you, his fist, with knuckles gone white from stress, moves dangerously closer to your face and hovers there as if debating whether to choke you or not. You subconsciously gulp and take in your final breath, sure that this was the last moments of your pitiful life. You look up at him, his eyes bursting with something between uncontrollable hatefulness and a desperate pity. He tightens his fist and it shakes from the sheer force.

“Donny stays in the barn. Stays in the pen. Until Boy is gone.” His words were more rough, coming from behind gritted teeth. You nod up at him.

“Of course.” Max runs his eyes once more over you body, scanning every corner of your face for anything that he could use to call your bluff but finds nothing. With one final snarl he pulled himself away and disappeared into the corn, leaving behind no reminisce of himself to prove that all that happened was real. In the silence that filled the gap he had left you felt the universe cave in. Conflicting voices erupted in your head, your trembling legs buckling under your body weight. You felt cold and despondent, eyes lingering on the spot where he departed. While your mind wanted to stay and think, to mull over everything until you had worked yourself into a vile panic attack, exhaustion beckoned and you submissively and gratefully followed. Walking inside the barn you find your hay pile and within minutes you were floating away to the safe land of earth and nature. 

[elisaphoenix13]

Before The Dawn (Ch.4)

"...what is this?"

Tony had woken Cassie early that morning so she could keep an ear out for Diana while he ran errands. She had no idea where he needed to go so early in the morning but when he got home, everything explained itself. Cassie was in the middle of eating her cereal after making sure the baby was taken care of when Tony nearly burst through the door. After shoveling the rest of her breakfast into her mouth, and Tony got Dia out of her high chair, he herded them out front just in time to see a trailer driving away. Just as Cassie was about to ask what it was for, Tony led them around the corner where she found an alpaca happily grazing on bits of grass.

"Your pet alpaca!" Tony says with a grin and Cassie looks up at him before sighing. "What? What's with that look?"

"You're so extra." She tells him flatly as Diana pries herself away from Cassie's leg to waddle over to the alpaca.

Tony snorts. "Then I wouldn't be Tony Stark."

"I meant a puppy or a kitten. Or even a fish!" Cassie says with some exaggeration. "You went with an alpaca!"

"Don't sass me."

Cassie rolls her eyes and watches Diana pet the alpaca in the way only babies can, glad that it didn't seem bothered with her. She really didn't want to be spit on if it felt threatened. She knew that because she did a lot of reading about animals on the tablet Tony gave her. At least it was another...what did Peter call Tibbs?

A chill animal.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Cassie asks Tony.

"Boy. You going to name him?"

"Uhh...I can't think of anything." She looks at the alpaca that happens to be staring back at her while munching lazily on grass.

"Alright then. We'll call him Gerald." Tony claps his hands together and then rubs them."Let's get him settled in his new home."

Cassie gives him another look. "He's not going to sleep in the house is he?"

"What? Pfft. No. I had a little stable built for him."

Cassie picks up Diana while Tony leads Gerald to the small stable behind the house, and they watch as he gives the alpaca a large pile of hay. She knew that this would likely turn into one of her daily chores, but she was okay with it because she expected it. There was just one thing she refused to do.

"I'm not picking up his poop." Cassie says as she turns to take Diana back inside.

"What?! You wanted a pet!"

"You wanted to be extra so you have to pay the consequences!" She calls back.

"Do you take after your mother or was your dad a secret sass monster?"

"My dad!" She replies and closes the back door when she gets back inside. "I hope you take after your mommy." She mumbles to Diana.

=======

A few years passed similarly, and as Cassie got older, she took on more of the household responsibilities. She cooked more, cleaned, took care of Diana and Tony, and took care of Gerald too. For the most part, Tony did clean up after the alpaca but every once in a while she would have to do it. Potty training Diana was actually pretty easy. She was ready to learn by the time she was running and she wasn't even two years old yet.

The biggest thing that happened was when...puberty hit Cassie. Fortunately she had an idea of what was going on, but neither of her parents had been able to give her the talk before the snap. Tony...bless his heart...gave her the talk even though she knew he was wildly uncomfortable about it. He hid it well, but it wasn't that the subject made him squeamish, but the fact that he had to be the one to talk to her. He felt he wasn't the right person to answer all of her questions, so he told her what he could and then did the smart thing by calling Pepper.

To Cassie's amusement, Tony had no problem buying her sanitary products when she needed them. When they were at the store and Cassie told him that she needed to restock, Tony nodded and took her down the feminine hygiene aisle.

"You're not embarrassed?"

"Nope. It's a part of life and one day Diana will need them too."

Tony sighed after he said that and it made Cassie laugh because she knew it was because he was faced with the reality that his little girl would one day grow up. She smiled when she was done laughing and pat his arm before picking out what she needed and adding it to the cart.

Now, at fifteen, she was currently stuck in the bathroom after looking under the sink and finding that she hadn't put her new box of tampons under it after their shopping trip yesterday. Cassie groans and reaches for the door and cracks it open.

"Dia!" She calls loudly.

"Yeah?" The five year old replies from downstairs.

"Can you get my box of tampons from the bag on the table and bring them up to me?"

"Kay!"

There was crinkling of the grocery bag a couple moments later, thumping on the stairs, and then the bathroom door swung wide open. Cassie's eyes widen and she scrambles to at least get Diana in the bathroom so she can close the door, and the little girl puts the box on the sink. The teen was used to Dia barging in on her whether it was in the bathroom or her bedroom, and was working on privacy with her.

"Dia! I talked to you about this!" Cassie sighs and grabs the box.

"Daddy is in the garage." She says.

"Okay, well, that's not the point. You knock and crack the door open just enough to come in if I'm in the bathroom or changing in my room." Cassie points to the door. "Practice that while leaving and close the door behind you, okay?"

"Can we make cookies?"

"Diana."

The little girl sighs dramatically and leaves the bathroom just like Cassie taught her to, and when she closes the door behind her, the teen finishes up. After storing the box under the sink and washing her hands, she goes downstairs and shakes her head with an amused smile when she finds Diana pulling out all of the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. Just this once she would go with Dia's decision since cookies did sound good, and it would probably lure Tony out of the garage for the day.

"I guess I better go put my hair up." Cassie says and turns back toward the stairs.

"Oh! Me too!" Diana says and follows after her after carefully putting the sugar on the counter.

It was a bonding technique they enjoyed together. Every morning, or after a bath, Diana would go into Cassie's room with a brush and the teen would turn on the TV so Diana could watch it while Cassie brushed her hair. Now, while Diana crawled onto Cassie's bed when they got to the teen's room, Cassie grabs her brush and a couple of hair ties and smiles when she sits on the bed behind the little girl. This time, Diana was content to read one of her picture books while Cassie brushed her hair, and the older girl took a little longer than usual to put Dia's hair up in a small ponytail.

"Will my hair get as long as yours, Sissy?"

"Sure it will."

"Daddy keeps telling the haircut lady to cut it short like this." Diana pouts and Cassie laughs as she ties her hair.

"That's because he doesn't want to hurt you if he ends up having to brush your hair."

"But you almost always brush my hair."

"Almost. Just be patient. Your hair grows fast and soon you won't need his help."

Cassie smiles and gets back up to look in her mirror and brush her hair back into a ponytail, and Diana patiently reads her book while she waits. A few of her things ended up finding a semi-permanent home in the teen's room since she spent so much time with Cassie, and there were times she ended up falling asleep with her. Cassie didn't mind it since it didn't happen all the time, and she even enjoyed the company. There were just some things only another girl would understand that Tony wouldn't. Or maybe he would understand but Cassie didn't feel like torturing him.

"Would Mommy have brushed my hair?" Diana asks quietly and Cassie sets her hairbrush down when she finishes.

"Maybe. He would have at least tried."

"Because of his hands?"

"Mmhmm." Cassie holds out her hand and helps Dia off the bed when she takes it.

"How come Daddy doesn't talk about him or Peter or Harley?"

Cassie stops and kneels down in front of Diana. The little girl knew about the snap even if she didn't fully understand what happened. She knew that her mom and brothers were taken away because of it and Cassie's dad as well, but she didn't know that Tony watched it happen. He asked Cassie not to tell Diana that bit of detail and she promised she wouldn't, only telling Dia what she could to help her understand.

"Because it still hurts him Dia." Cassie says softly.

"Does thinking about your daddy still hurt you too?" Diana asks.

"Yeah...not as much as it used to but...the reasons are different. That's all I can say."

"... okay."

Poor Diana knew when a subject should be left alone, and unfortunately the taboo was about her deceased family. She just wanted to know about them and the majority of the task landed on Cassie's shoulders. Sometimes the other Avengers would visit and tell stories that Diana drank in like a sponge, but for the most part it was Cassie telling her the stories and whatever Tony let slip. The older girl often caught Diana looking through Peter's photo album before bed and would tell her a couple of stories before having her go to sleep. Cassie never begrudged Tony for it though. He watched Stephen and Peter (and the other people he allied with) turn to dust. Cassie was fortunate enough not to actually see anyone get dusted. Especially her father. If she did, she had a feeling she would be hurting just as much as Tony.

"Let's go make those cookies now. Maybe we can make some with butterscotch chips for your dad."

"He likes milk with his cookies too!"

"He does. I think we'll all have milk and cookies."

Diana smiles and races down to the kitchen to pull out the rest of the ingredients, and Cassie turns on the oven when she finally makes it down as well. After checking that Diana got everything they needed, they started to pour everything into the mixer. As they were pouring the flour mixture in with the wet ingredients, the mixer was going too fast for the amount poured in and the flour blew up in their faces. The two cough and wipe their faces free of it before finishing, and Tony walks in just after they put the first two sheets in.

He promptly started laughing.

"You making flour bombs in here or cookies?" He chuckles.

"Guess you'll have to find out." Cassie answers as she wipes the rest of the flour off of Diana.

"Having fun piccola?" He asks Diana.

"Uh-huh! We made some cookies with butter...umm…" she furrows her brows together in thought and then smiles. "Butterscotch! Just for you!"

"Oh yeah? I'm looking forward to them. You two always make the best cookies." Tony smiles as he sneaks behind them to grab the bag of coffee beans from the cupboard.

Cassie promptly smacked his hand though and took them to put them back.

"No! Breakfast only and two cups maximum!" She scolds as Tony shakes his hand.

"I feel like I'm losing my authority in my own house." He gripes half-heartedly.

"Don't be so overdramatic about coffee. Just wait a few minutes and you can have milk with cookies like we're going to." Cassie huffs.

"Alright, alright. I'll go watch tv in the living room." Tony says. "No more flour bombs."

Cassie grabs a cleanish measuring spoon and chucks it at his head.

[dhrdrabbles]

Four portraits of Astoria were placed across the manor.

Each was beautiful in its own regard – the tall, slender woman being surrounded by peach blossoms, sunflowers, chrysanthemums, and winterberries, respectively. Draco Malfoy had commissioned each portrait of his late wife symbolising a season after she had passed far too young, leaving her grieving husband and distraught son. Draco had wanted to make sure that she would be remembered in every corner of the haunting, old mansion and be a part of their family around the year without seeming eerily misplaced. He had also hoped for a symbolism of eternity – an endless circle of the four seasons, although this notion now struck him as a bit melodramatic.

Astoria had been Draco’s ray of sunshine in an otherwise bleak youth. She was caring, smart, empathetic, and funny. Astoria’s heart was open for anyone and she treated all people and creatures equally respectful. Astoria would listen patiently and give thorough advice even at a young age. Astoria was missed by her family and friends alike, none of which could believe they had lost her so early in life. Her portraits seemed so much more alive, so much more present than other portraits of deceased persons.

So when Hermione Granger, née Granger but ex-Weasley (not by name but by statute), mother of two brilliant children, former minister for magic (the youngest on record even by the time she stepped down on her own accord), acclaimed author, and Draco Malfoy’s new partner in life, first passed one (the spring version) of the portraits she had heard so much about before she first visited the manor (aside from that fateful night over twenty years prior, let’s not discuss it, thank you very much), she was irritated to find that Astoria’s beautiful face (and Hermione was positive that this was not an embellished version of the late Malfoy (junior-)matriarch, this had been her actual face) in a bored but irritable expression.

Hermione passed her quickly then, thinking about mentioning the mood to Draco but quickly deciding otherwise. Astoria had been perfect on every account and Hermione, distinguished former minister of magic and all, had felt quite small every time Draco spoke of his late wife. It was difficult not to believe that Astoria’s grimace had been due to Hermione’s presence in the manor.

Such thoughts plagued Hermione ‘the original overthinker’ Granger until she and Draco had an ‘official’ meeting with Astoria (her summery version) where Draco’s late wife proved to be everything he had made her to be. She was interested in Hermione’s career, but more so her well-being, she was witty and snorted at the right names when Hermione told stories straight out of the Wizengamot. Even her snort was charming. Glancing at Draco during their conversation, Hermione spotted a wistful look in his eyes and she had to admit then that even without knowing her much, she missed Astoria herself.

Hermione was all the more surprised – and irritated, if she was being honest with herself – when she walked past chrysanthemum-Astoria sometime later only to find the other woman rather irritable and tight-lipped again. In this moment, Hermione did not know how to react (or act – situation far from clear: Astoria had barely returned her own greeting) and so she stomped on, inwardly fuming. Was she mad at Astoria for putting on an act when Draco was around? Was Draco part of this scheme and did he care how this made her feel at all?

She was able hold back during dinner and focused instead on Draco’s recital of his new publication on the side effects of pepper-up potion. However, later, she couldn’t get herself to respond to his hands or mouth, made a half-hearted excuse and so they went to bed rather irritated on both sides. Hermione had a hard time feeling bad, even when Draco’s last words before finally falling asleep were “I don’t care if we have sex once a day or once a month, I’d just wish you’d be honest with me”.

When sleep wouldn’t come, Hermione finally made a decision. She slipped out from under the heavy blanket, made sure Draco was still fully covered and tip-toed out of the room.

Astoria looked ethereal in her white dress, sitting on a stone bench, surrounded by masses of snow and framed by little red specks – winterberries. This time, she full acknowledged Hermione but did not speak once again.

I must not be jealous of a dead woman, Hermione had told herself all over all evening and yet here she was, feeling both jealous and nervous in front of a painting.

“Good evening, Astoria.”

“Hello, Hermione. What brings you here?”

Astoria’s tone was levelled and Hermione was even more jealous that the woman in front of her seemed so capable of perfect containment when necessary. During her time in office, she had frequently been criticised for being too emotional. (Too emotional – hah. Hermione usually had gotten angry, linking this label to her femininity and lecturing an overwhelmed Ron about the relationship between emotions and gender. He had trouble understanding. Draco had been with her from the first second – he was now avidly reading de Beauvoir).

“I uhm–“, Hermione began, scolding herself for thinking about jealousy when walking to the portrait instead of coming up with a sensitive question.

“Do you want to know how to please Draco best? I have a few–“

“What? No!”

Hermione had been shouting and now listened carefully for Draco down the hallway, cursing herself mentally for being so clumsy. Nothing happened. Relieved, she looked back up at Astoria who now seemed rather amused.

“I … I’m sorry, this might come across as incredibly rude, but”, Hermione took a deep breath, “are you, by any chance, really unhappy that Draco is with me?”

Astoria’s eyes widened in shock. “What?”

“It’s just…”, again, Hermione had to breathe awkwardly before continuing, “I couldn’t help but notice that you were so lovely when we spoke with Draco, but every time I’m walking past you by myself, you seem … sulking?”

Hermione rolled her eyes inwardly at her own unelaborate phrasing. But before she could correct herself, Astoria had jumped up from her bench (did it look Ancient Greek?) and took a step towards Hermione.

“Hermione, what? I’m so sorry I came across this rude!”

What?

This was surely not what Hermione had expected.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, truly. I should not have jumped to conclusions.”

Come again?

Hermione’s face must have mirrored her confusion because Astoria now awkwardly shuffled strands of long, dark, straight hair out of her face hectically.

“It’s just that –”

Astoria now seemed lost for words as she helplessly flapped her arms and looked around.

“You see”, she began cautiously, “I was never the biggest fan of flowers.”

Hermione’s eyes widened.

“Of course, they’re beautiful et cetera, but I had a ridiculous hay fever that could barely be treated with potions and my green thumb was non-existent. My relationship to flowers is rocky at best. You’re right, I’m sulking. I know Draco loved me dearly and he wanted the best for me, Scorpius, and himself after I passed. Of course, he wanted to have me portrayed as memorable as possible. But all this”, again, she helplessly moved her arms and Hermione now realised that she meant all four versions of herself, all the flowery beauty, the references to goddesses and eternal beauty and wisdom, “that is not the essence of who I was.”

Hermione had felt foolish already, but Astoria’s final statement was too much. “I’m a family person. I would have pictured myself with them, I guess. And I love Draco. I always will and this is why I will never complain to him. When he told me you were with him now, I was unbelievably happy for him. You do him justice, Hermione. You understand him – maybe even better than I ever did. And I let my guard down because I felt this was possible around you. You seemed to be the person I could trust with my exasperation. I just never mentioned it to you, which was very stupid on my part.”

Astoria now shook her head. Hermione was stunned.

“Flower girl, can you believe it?”

Astoria’s bone-dry tone drove Hermione over the edge. She started giggling. Astoria’s initial silence turned into a hearty laugh after a few moments as well and – to Hermione’s surprise and delight – Astoria let out tiny snorts.

“In all honesty though”, Hermione said when they had calmed down, holding her ribs from laughter. “I do see it. The melodrama and all.”

They kept laughing.

“Feel free to sulk”, Hermione added after a few seconds, luring a few snorts from Astoria.

Draco rolled his eyes and closed the door to his bedroom, going back to bed before Hermione realised his feet were cold when she eventually came back. He should have known these two women were a lethal combination.

*

Authors notes:

Hi again!

This one was a lot of fun to write, despite containing very little Draco. It’s been a headcanon of mine for a while that he would glorify Astoria after her death (in a universe where their marriage took place and all, that is) and that Astoria herself would feel some kind of way about it, bonding over it with Hermione. Hope you guys enjoyed it!

Also, the initial premise of this blog was once that I would also happilypublish drabbles written by other authors and that I would take prompts. Just so you know. :)

Finally: HELLO to all my new followers! This almost vacant account (revived after six years!) grew by ca. 25% after only one post last week (and this post also became the most successful one to date). Thank you all so much and what a pleasure to have you. I also have a multifandom-blog where I usually am which you can find under @ahoidraco if you’re interested. 

Until next time!

[fancat-not-fangirl]

Heart Attack Blues

a/n: Tag to 2x19. Because I like hurting Dean and you can’t just almost have a heart attack without getting away unscathed. At least, not in my opinion.

Heart attacks were not fun.

That much Dean Winchester was certain of. 

He had experienced one the previous year when he and Sam had hunted that creature in the basement of some run down house in the middle of nowhere, and had almost died. He could still feel the pain sometimes. The tightness in his chest. The agony lacing through his body like lightning. The inability to breathe.

In short, Dean had never wanted to experience one of those again.

But, because he just happened to be a Winchester, luck was never on his side.

And so of course during their gig at the Green River County Detention Center, the spirit of Nurse Glockner had decided to jump start the memories by giving him another heart attack. Or, at least, beginning to give him one. Just in time, Dean had grabbed the salt and slashed it across her image, both freeing him and dooming Tiny in the process.

The guilt over letting Tiny die weighed heavy across his chest, as did the remaining effects of the almost-heart-attack the nurse had given him. It did not get better over time. Dean had hoped that the pain would have gone away after a few hours, but again, he was a Winchester. And Winchesters never got what they wanted.

So now the job was done and the brothers were sitting side by side in the Impala, mere minutes away from a hotel, and Dean wasn’t feeling any better. They had been on the road for hours and hours, hoping to put as much space as possible between them and the police, who were no doubt tearing apart the countryside looking for them.

It hurt to breathe, and if Dean tried to move, agony stabbed through him. The road blurred in front of him every few minutes, and at times Dean desperately fought the urge to hurl.

Sam had asked multiple times if Dean wanted to let him drive, but every time Dean refused, only to regret his decision minutes later when another bout of pain cut through him like lightning.

It might have helped to tell Sam, but Dean didn’t want to worry his brother. Sam had enough on his plate as it was, what with thinking about his “destiny” and how he could avoid turning evil. Which Dean was sure would not happen. There was no way, none at all, that his little brother was a monster. I mean, the guy would hit a squirrel with his car and mope about for weeks on end. It wasn’t possible that he could turn into a monster. It just wasn’t. Dean was sure of it.

But Sam wasn’t, and that was enough for Dean to keep his injury a secret. There was no need to lay that burden on Sam. He had been through enough.

Turning off the highway, Dean grit his teeth and kept down a gasp of pain as he turned the wheel, sending sharp twinges of pain through his chest and up his arms. Son of a bitch. Dean just crossed his fingers and prayed that Sam didn’t notice.

But Dean was a Winchester after all, and therefore nothing ever went his way.

“Hey man, you good?” Sam’s voice cut through the silence that had occupied the car previously, quiet and hesitant. To Dean, though, it sounded as if Sam had held a megaphone up to his ear and screamed the words.

Wincing, Dean forced his mouth into a grin and his eyes quickly flitted to Sam’s worried face. “I’m A-okay. I guess Deacon just walloped me in the stomach harsher than he had to. I don’t think I hit him back hard enough for that.” Sam didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, Sammy. No need to worry your pretty princess head.”

“It’s Sam,” His brother grumbled, and Dean chuckled. That was a bad move, because his heart clenched and his chest felt like it was on fire. Crap.

Through the pain, Dean almost missed the sign that pointed to the hotel, swerving at the last second onto the parking lot. Sam gave him a concerned look, but Dean just shrugged it off. The sooner he got some rest, the better.

Sending Sam for the keys to the room, Dean hauled himself out of the car, barely holding back a cry of agony at the movement. Leaning against the car, Dean caught his breath. Why wasn’t it getting better? Back at the prison he had felt fine. Well, mostly fine. There had been a lingering tightness in his chest, but nothing like this.

“Dean? You coming or what?” Sam’s voice broke Dean painfully out of his thoughts, and Dean grunted as he grabbed the bags from the trunk and headed for their room, trying not to stumble. 

Entering, Dean squinted his eyes against the brightness of the lights. Dropping the bags onto the floor, he made a beeline towards his bed, not even bothering to undress first.

“Do you want the shower?” Sam called over this shoulder as he untied his shoes. 

The words cut through Dean’s head like knives, and Dean made sure his back was turned to his brother as to try to hide the look of pain that crossed his face. “Nah, you go on. I want to hit the hay.”

Sam’s response was lost in the ringing in Dean’s ears, and the older hunter collapsed onto the bed. The darkness took him before he knew it, and Dean knew no more.

<><><><><>

Dean awoke with a need for water.

His throat was parched and sore, not unlike the rest of his body. Dean had hoped that after resting for a few hours he’d feel better, but then again, he was a Winchester. And nothing ever went right for him.

Except that the sounds of running water in the bathroom told Dean that he hadn’t, in fact, rested for a few hours. More like a few minutes. The shower was still on, which meant that Sam was still in there.

At least something was going his way.

Biting back whimpers, Dean pulled himself inch by inch into an upright position. If anything, his heart hurt more now than it did before. As did his head. It felt like it was splitting open, sending waves of dizziness through Dean’s body, making him sway as he got to his feet. And his lungs. Had it always been this hard to breathe? Dean didn’t think so.

What had he wanted again?

Oh, right. Water.

Putting one foot in front of the other proved harder than he had first thought, and through the haze of pain, Dean didn’t realize that the sound of running water from the bathroom had stopped. 

He made it across the room and closed his hand around a water bottle sitting on the hotel table. Bringing it to his lips, Dean closed his eyes and drank, savoring the way the cold liquid ran down his throat. It escaped his notice how most of the water had missed his mouth and had ended up dripping onto the floor. 

Content with the amount of water that had made it into his mouth, Dean turned on his heel, ready to go back to bed.

That had been the wrong thing to do, as he lost his balance and staggered, ramming chest-first into the edge of the table.

The reaction was immediate. Heart seizing, the air seemed to leave Dean’s body all at once, leaving him gasping for it. Falling to his hands and knees, Dean barely had the strength to support himself with one arm, as the other was busy clawing at his chest. The pain spread through his body like wildfire, burning everything in its path. It consumed him.

Dean had hoped that he’d be able to keep his injury from Sam, but the slam of a door and a shout of his name was enough to tell him that he had failed.

After all, he was a Winchester, and things never seemed to go as planned.

Which was why Dean didn’t even fight it when, again, the darkness pulled him under.

<><><><><>

Sam knew there was something wrong with Dean.

Ever since they had left the prison. Even before then, in fact. 

But it had only become blatantly obvious when Dean had relinquished the offer to shower first. Usually, Dean would be the one that would be shoving Sam out of the way and locking himself in the bathroom as soon as they’d get back from a hunt. But not today. 

Sam had wanted to ask what was wrong, but knowing Dean, the answer would have been, “I’m fine,” or “Nothing,”. So Sam had decided that, fine, if Dean wanted to stew in his own pain, then let him do so.

If he was being honest, Sam was still a little mad at Dean from when his older brother demanded that they stay at the prison, risking their lives to help one of dad’s friends. They were no use to anyone dead, and it didn’t really bother Sam that a few prison lowlifes would perish in exchange.

But maybe that was the monster talking.

No.

Sam showered in scalding hot water, as if he wanted to wash away all the evil in him. But then again, it hadn’t worked before, so why would it now?

He took his time, and was finished in a little over half an hour. Dean would kill him for that, Sam thought with a small smirk, brushing his teeth. They always did this. Fought over the smallest of things. Unlike other siblings, it was weirdly the way the Winchesters showed affection. 

Small jabs. Insults. Pranks. Those were all the brothers’ ways of saying, “I love you.” It was odd, yes. But they were Winchesters, which meant that nothing they ever did was normal.

And Sam was fine with that.

Except for the times his brother was an ass. A stubborn, pigheaded ass. One that wouldn’t accept help from anyone or anything. One that Sam got so frustrated with. One like he was now. 

It had been obvious that he had been having trouble driving. So why not let Sam drive? It was stupid. So very, very stupid. Kind of like Dean himself. Stubborn and stupid and sometimes Sam just wanted to throttle him.

Pulling on a fresh set of sweatpants and a t-shirt, Sam switched the lights off in the bathroom and opened the door, preparing himself for another long hour of trying to convince Dean to tell Sam what was wrong with him.

But nothing could have prepared him for the sight in front of him.

Dean was on the floor, on his hands and knees, arms shaking. His head was bent, almost touching the floor. And the sounds. Sam’s heart broke with every choke and wheeze that left Dean’s mouth. Before he knew it, Sam was darting across the room and dropping to his knees beside his brother.

“Dean!”

Dean lifted his eyes and their gazes connected mere seconds before Dean’s eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed forward into Sam’s waiting arms.

“What the hell, Dean?” Sam whispered, knowing his brother couldn’t hear him. Grabbing Dean’s shoulders, Sam brought him up so that Dean was leaning against his younger brother, chests almost touching. Cupping Dean’s face, Sam tried to get his brother to wake back up.

“Dean? Dean, hey man, I need you to open your eyes, okay? Just for a second. Please, please, please just open your eyes.” Sam was pleading now, his mind a jumbled mess. What had happened? How had he missed something this serious? How was he going to help Dean if he didn’t even know what was wrong with him?

“Dean, open your goddamn eyes right now or I swear to god, I’ll sell the Impala. I will.” And just like that, Dean’s eyes were fluttering open and Sam was letting out a sigh of relief. “That’s it, Dean. That’s it. Now keep them open for me, can you do that?”

But Dean seemed to have other plans, and he tensed under Sam and lifted a hand to his chest, clawing the material covering it. His eyes were panicked, and Sam realized with an ever sinking heart that Dean was having trouble breathing.

“Oh god, Dean. You have to calm down. Take deep breaths, okay?” Sam pulled back a bit to give his brother room, but never loosening his grip on him. “Deep breaths, Dean. Just breathe. Breathe.” 

But it wasn’t working. Dean was wheezing, gasping for air, and nothing Sam was doing was helping. Gritting his teeth, Sam decided to try something else. Pulling Dean flush against him, chest to chest, Sam started breathing deeply, exaggerating his breaths. In and out, in and out, all the while mumbling a mantra of soothing words into Dean’s ear. “It’s ok, Dean. I got you. Deep breaths. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

One of his hands was on Dean’s backs, rubbing it comfortingly, trying to ease the tension in the muscles. The other hand was cupping the back of Dean’s head, his fingers running through Dean’s hair. Gently. Softly.

And it worked. Soon, Dean’s breathing slowed, became calmer. His hands that had previously had a desperate grip on Sam’s t-shirt fabric had relaxed, as did the rest of his body. His head was pressed into the crook of Sam’s neck, and Sam could feel the small pants that brushed against his skin.

Once he was sure that Dean’s breathing was back to normal, Sam pulled back and peered into Dean’s face. His brother’s facial features were tight with pain, and Sam couldn’t help but notice the tear tracks that had made their way down Dean’s cheeks.

Sam didn’t want to do this, but he had to know what was wrong with Dean. How else was he supposed to help his brother otherwise? “Dean, what the hell just happened?”

Dean didn’t answer at first, the silence stretching between them. Then, as though he was speaking through glass, Dean managed to get out, “‘m fine, S’mmy.”

That was it. The last straw. Giving Dean an enraged look, Sam fought to keep his voice from shouting, which he knew would only make the pain worse for Dean. “You’re fine? You’re fine? Dean, you were on the floor, barely breathing! If that means ‘fine’ in your book, then you need to check the definition of ‘fine’. Because you are certainly NOT fine.” Seeing Dean wince, Sam realized that his voice had climbed in volume, and he brought it down a few notches. Yes, he was angry with his brother, but not angry enough to want to cause him additional pain. “Dean, it looked like you were having a heart attack! Now, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but-”

And then it hit Sam. 

“You jerk. You big, stubborn, idiotic, jerk. You got attacked by the spirit, didn’t you?” The look on Dean’s face said it all. “I don’t believe it. And you didn’t even think to tell me? That you almost died on this job?” 

Dean seemed to be getting his bearings more, being able to breathe on his own. He glanced at Sam before lowering his eyes to the floor between them. “Didn’t think it was such a big deal.”

Sam scoffed, eyes wide with disbelief. “Not a big deal? You do realize that you could have died, right? I could have given you painkillers, medicine. At least I could’ve done the driving.” Dean didn’t answer. “Dean, why the hell wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I thought it would get better.” Dean’s voice was still rough, but even then Sam strained to hear it.

“You thought it would-” Sam let out an exasperated breath and took his hand away from its supporting grip on Dean’s shoulder, running it over his face. “Okay you know what. Whatever. I don’t care. But Dean,” His hand touched Dean’s chin and raised it so that their eyes would meet. “Next time you get hurt, you have to tell me, okay? I can’t do anything if I’m too busy being worried about you.”

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. “It’s usually me saying that to you.”

Sam glared. “Promise me, Dean.”

It didn’t look like Dean was going to answer and Sam was about to ask again before Dean sighed. “Okay Sammy. Next time I get a papercut, you’ll be the first to know.”

Sam smiled grimly at that, not even bothering to correct his brother at the nickname. It would have to do for now.

“Let’s get you up,” he said, standing and hauling Dean up with him. Dean’s face twisted at the pain that no doubt laced through him, but Sam had to get him to the bed. And then had to somehow coerce him into taking pills.

One step at a time, though.

Wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist, Sam supported most of Dean’s weight as they hobbled back to the bed, Dean letting out a muffled cry as he sank onto the mattress. Gently leaning him backwards, Sam commanded that Dean not move while he got the meds.

Coming back less than a minute later with pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other, Sam offered them to his brother, who took them without any fuss. If Sam needed a sign that his brother was most definitely not fine, then that was it. Dean must have really been in pain for him to not object being given medicine.

Swallowing the pills down, Dean then looked up at Sam. “I’m hungry.”

Oh.

When was the last time they had eaten? Hours ago, probably. 

Now that he thought about it, Sam was also hungry. He’d been too wrapped up in his thoughts and worries about Dean to even realize it.

Nodding, Sam shrugged on his coat and pointed a strict finger at Dean. “Don’t move. I don’t want to drag your sorry ass to a hospital just because you were stupid enough to try to get out of bed.”

Dean just gave him a smirk. “Get me a burger.”

“Not a chance,” Sam called over his shoulder as he opened the door and walked out, closing it behind him.

<><><>

Coming back with a salad and a BLT sandwich as well as some coffee for himself, Sam was relieved that Dean hadn’t moved since he had left his brother a little over forty minutes ago. In fact, his brother had turned on the TV and was engrossed in some type of family drama that was currently on. At least something was going his way.

Setting his salad and coffee down at the table, Sam walked across the room and gave Dean his own food.

What he wasn’t expecting, though, was that Dean turned off the TV as soon as Sam sat back down at the table, and fixed his eyes on him. The look on Dean’s face was something that confused Sam. It looked sad, grave. A chill ran down Sam’s spine.

“Sammy, I have to tell you something.”

Sam froze.

Dean continued. “I thought about what you said earlier, about not hiding any injuries from you...” Did something else happen? Oh god, what if there were still injuries that Sam didn’t know about from when he had been possessed by Meg. Had he done something to Dean?

Dean looked down, fiddling with the corner of the blanket. “I didn’t know if I should tell you this, but…”

Sam couldn’t wait any longer. “What is it, Dean?”

Dean’s sullen look suddenly morphed into a sharp grin as his hand flew up into the air and flipped Sam off. “I have a paper cut.” And he did. There was a small, red line cutting across Dean’s middle finger, and Sam’s eyes immediately went to the small knife that was sticking out from underneath Dean’s pillow.

The next thing Dean knew, there was a water bottle thrown at his head, and he ducked, chuckling.

“You’re an ass, you know that?” Sam growled, but he couldn’t stop the smile that fought its way onto his face.

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

By that they meant ‘I love you’ and ‘I’m glad you’re ok’.

And, of course, because their last name was Winchester, they wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[dijayeah]

Title: Private Thoughts

Description: She was always there, from the very beginning and every step of the way even as she became one of his closest advisors, but she wasn't just his advisor, no, to him she was so much more. She was his only problem, one that was buried deep within the privacy of his thoughts. A NaruSaku oneshot, that is a gift for peaches-jpg!

Warnings: NSFW/18+:  Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised! Word Count: ~ 4000 words (~15 mins of pure, shameless smut ͡ ° ͜ʖ �� –) AO3: read here 

FF.NET:  read here

Private Thoughts

She was always there, from the very beginning and every step of the way even as she became one of his closest advisors, but she wasn’t just his advisor, no, to him she was so much more.

She was his only problem, one that was buried deep within the privacy of his thoughts.

 X

PRIVATE THOUGHTS

Inspired by: DSF - Private Thoughts (Love Mix)

X

I'll always, always think of you

X

 Scrolls were messily splayed all over his wooden desk, piles of paperwork waiting to be approved and sent off in a few days’ time. The thought itself nearly made Naruto groan in irritation as his blue eyes skeptically inspected the contents of each document that reached his fingers.

The whole ordeal was tiresome and as Shikamaru would say troublesome to say the least.

His vision blurred, his face tired and weary as he tried his best to lessen the pile of documents on his desk, paper after paper went through his long fingers, and sometimes he found himself losing the count. Dull expression was etched into his normally cheerful and bright looking features, his brows knitted as he used one of his hands to rub the side of his face.

If someone would’ve told Naruto five or ten years ago that this is what it was like to be a Hokage he would’ve never believed it. But it was the truth and he got to experience it first-hand.

His reality nowadays was boring and repetitive, in peaceful times it seemed like his only duty as Hokage consisted of the endless paperwork that he was working on throughout the week.

Paperwork never came home with him and most of the time he stayed at the Hokage tower trying to pull an all-nighter just to finish his work before the deadlines and sometimes in hopes of forgetting her presence.

However, most of the times that wasn’t the case. Her presence was hard to ignore, making him realize he hasn’t learned anything in all those years that had passed between the two of them. It was his fault really; she was never the one to blame.

Just as she was never his to have.

He willingly gave her away to the man that broke her heart a handful t of times, and that was probably one thing Naruto would never forgive Sasuke. Naruto could forgive a lot of things, as he always tried to understand other people’s feelings and their reasoning when it came to their actions, even when it came to Sasuke himself.

But when it came to her, he couldn’t. He refused.

Sometimes he felt robbed. He felt robbed of the opportunity that he himself refused, but he knew that if he would’ve accepted that disingenuous confession back then she would’ve been the one to feel robbed.

So, he rejected her.

Sometimes he wondered if it would’ve worked out for him. Sometimes he wondered if they really could’ve been happy. Sometimes he wondered if back then, there was a at least drop of sincerity to her words.

He could’ve accepted her false confession, went along with it pretending not to see her true colors and feelings.

Maybe he could’ve been happy.

But for what Naruto knew it took two people in a relationship to feel happy, and maybe that’s why in the end he went with Hinata, because she was there to fill in that deep hole he had in his chest.

She was there when he was desperate. However, Naruto wasn’t happy and that was completely his own fault.

Sure, he had a loving family, kids that were making him proud every single day and a wife that was more than just kind and caring.

But every time he let his mind wander it always brought him back to her. At first, he thought Sakura was just a childhood crush, but it changed quickly as his feelings blossomed into something more, something stronger.

Maybe it was her ever changing attitude, her fiery temper or maybe the raw strength that gave her the power to crush mountains with her bare hands with barely any effort.

She was a thrilling woman and Sasuke was a lucky bastard, and for what Naruto could tell Sasuke did not deserve the green-eyed woman, not even one inch.

It also didn’t help that she was one of his closest advisors when it came to the political side of things. Whenever she wasn’t busy at the hospital, she would always make sure to come in, her sharp mind and dainty hands helping him here and there, pointing out his mistakes and lack of sleep.

Always so observant and oblivious at the same time.

What didn’t help even more was the way she would sit near his desk, brows furrowed, tongue brushing over her bottom lip in concentration, innocently, completely unaware of everything that went on around her, unaware of the hunger in his gaze.

It pissed him off, it really did, she was like a sour candy he couldn’t have, and even if he could, he probably couldn’t swallow it to its fullest potential.

After all beliefs like this did little to ease Naruto’s mind, as every time he closed his eyes, he had just one image, and that image consisted of flashes of hot pink and vivid green.

In his private thoughts she was his only problem, and that problem made his heart ache more than a feeling of strong sake burning his throat in a fiery path.

He swallowed the bitterness.

X

PRIVATE THOUGHTS

Inside of my private thoughts

X

Empty cups of coffee littered his desk, stains of dark liquid lingered on some of the scrolls he had lying around. His face was pressed against the desk, raw cheek against the cold, smooth surface of the table, ocean-blue eyes closed in an attempt to rest.

His break didn’t last long when he heard the door to his office open and he refused to spare his attention to whoever that came in to disturb him at this very moment. Soft steps reached his desk as they echoed throughout the half-empty space, but he refused to open his eyes. Whoever it was, couldn’t they just leave him alone for five fucking minutes?

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, long fingers digging into his arm, nudging him softly as he opened his eyes almost unwillingly.

His eyes were unfocused, barely catching the blurry reflection of pink and green before him.

“Ah, Naruto-kun you should really consider sleeping more these days.” He heard a soft, albeit concerned voice and his vision cleared immediately. Excitement rushed into his veins as he observed the pink haired woman that stood casually, leaning against his desk.

“You always say the same thing Sakura-chan.” He said almost absent-mindedly a small smile crept onto his features.

“I’m just looking out for you.” She smiled; plump lips framed her small white teeth. Her rose hair fell around her shoulders with a small curl around the edges, cupping the sides of her face almost lovingly in an effortless manner.

“Thank you.” His smile widened unknowingly.

“Now, now don’t thank me before you…” Naruto looked at her, a curious look etched into his face. “See this!” She exclaimed whilst grinning, as she lifted a white paper bag that hung over her hand loosely.

“What’s that?” He asked, his curiosity peaked as he scratched his chin in thought.

“Naruto, you baka.” A deep sigh erupted directly from the depths of her chest. “I’m surprised you haven’t smelled it, yet.” She smiled somewhat awkwardly looking at the blond-haired Hokage.

“It’s Ichiraku’s, they had the slow-cooked pork ramen as their dish of the day.” She waved the paper bag in front of his face. “So, I bought it as a takeaway.” Sakura brought her face closer to his, a kind smile adorned her face, her big eyes crinkled slightly.

He fought a blush that was threatening to creep directly onto his features, his wild, ocean blue eyes darkened slightly as they fell onto her lips. He almost shook his head trying shake off the tempting image, his futile attempt at discarding it from his mind completely.

He wanted nothing more but to reach out for her face and press his lips against hers, roughly. He wanted to ravish the rose haired woman directly onto his office desk, consequences be damned.

But she was a respectable wife, his best friend’s wife and he was a married man with a reputation as Hokage.

So, he couldn’t, not now, not ever.

He swallowed closing his eyes for a second.

“Why are you here?” He asked instead, a hint of hostility to his tone.

“To help you, of course.” She rolled her eyes. “Hokage-sama.” She turned her back, placing the white paper bag onto his desk, her voice mocking and almost bratty.

“So, eat up before I take it away.” She scolded instead.

He sighed and nodded in return.

And so, she did the things that she came in for. She helped him like always, without any complaints, just a concentrated look on her face and bitten lips that looked savory and sweet at the same time.

He almost felt guilty thinking about her this way, but he couldn’t help himself, after all she will always be buried within the privacy of his own thoughts.

X

PRIVATE THOUGHTS

I can imagine you

X

“Lord Hokage.” The anbu guards kneeled in his office, moonlight fell over his silhouette through the large window that was part of his office space. He looked at the bright city, various lights and lanterns littered the horizon brightly, nearly blocking the starry sky.

“You don’t have to keep guard on me tonight.” He said, his gaze piercing and almost dark as he looked over his shoulder.

“I have important matters to deal with tonight and I don’t need you guarding me all night, you are relieved from your duties until five a.m sharp.” He said with a tone of finality, leaving no room to breach the topic further. He knew his own anbu wouldn’t question his decisions, after all he was the Hokage.

“Hai, Hokage-sama.” Said one of the captains from the elite force.

“Dismissed.” He said waving them off.

Once he felt their presence disappearing completely, he made the hand signs for the sound-proofing jutsu, his hand movements quick and precise.

“Finally.” He murmured in relief. “Now there’s only one problem I’m left to deal with.” He said to himself, his voice dark and heavy, a small smirk full of anticipation curled at the edge of his lips.

 X

PRIVATE THOUGHTS

Touching my private parts  With just the thought of you

X

 He went through another, painfully familiar set of hand signs and concentrated, closing his eyes for a brief moment. A kage bunshin appeared.

Perhaps it was the alcohol or maybe even the fatigue of working endless days and nights at the Hokage tower trying to meet the deadlines, but he couldn’t help himself, his eyelids fell heavy with desire, desire for the woman he wanted the most.

He replayed the familiar scene that he encountered during the day, imagining the brightness of her eyes, the deep shade of pink that was her hair. The lithe curves on her body, that were covered by an annoying piece of fabric. A piece of fabric that had the Uchiha clan symbol etched onto it and he wished he could burn it away from existence using his own eyes.

A puff of smoke dissipated behind him and he felt soft hands snaking around his waist, soft, curvy body pressed flush against his back and he nearly groaned feeling her so close to him.

“Sakura…” He rasped darkly, feeling one of her hands slide down his crotch. “Mmm?” Her sultry voice reverberated directly through the entirety of his body, causing his breath to hitch, as a small tinge of heat pulsed and coiled at the very bottom of his stomach.

“Touch me.” He commanded his voice laced with darkness that conquered the night itself. “As you say, Hokage-sama.” She used his title mockingly and that only caused further flames within his body.

He burned with need, his eyes the color of aquamarine waters.

Her hand dipped under the waistband of his pants effortlessly as if she had done this countless of times already and he growled lowly when she cupped the increasing bulge that hid beneath his pants and boxers.

“So hard already, and I’ve barely touched you, Hokage-sama.” She mocked him again, her voice even lower as it ghosted past the tips of his ears.

“Fuck I-“ He hissed with a silent curse when her hand dipped under his boxers, her long fingers wrapped around his cock and she gave him a few, painfully long strokes.

“Do you want me to do anything else?” She asked coyly and he could feel her smiling behind him, her hand never stopped, the painfully slow rhythm always kept him aware of her movements.

“I want to fuck you.” He hissed flipping them over, the lower part of her back dipped into the edge of his desk roughly.

“Then do it.” She encouraged him, a sultry look in her eternally glowing, emerald eyes. “If you can, that is.” She teased him, the tip of her tongue brushing past her bottom lip distractively.

 X

PRIVATE THOUGHTS

I can't help but touch myself  That's why I want you so bad

X

 “You are not going anywhere this time.” He growled aggressively against her neck, his short, blond hair tickling her exposed skin.

“Hmm.” She mused thoughtfully, feeling his teeth against her skin, her hand still stroking his length with an increasing speed. “Not afraid Hinata-chan is going to find out?” she smirked darkly feeling his teeth digging deeper into her skin, leaving a fresh set of marks. A small moan escaped from her bruised throat.

“No.” He rasped against her skin, his breath leaving goose-bumps all over. “However, you are going to find out what it’s like getting fucked by a Hokage.” He said with a finality as she hissed under his rough tone.

“Now shut up and let me fuck you, Haruno.” He refused to call her by her newly acquired surname, no, in fact he preferred the old one.

She gasped when he pressed her flat against the table, one of his hands grabbing her by the pink, short tresses as she looked into his blue midnight eyes, her own eyes full of surprise. Her hand lost the contact with his pulsing length and she nearly growled in irritation.

He pressed his lips roughly against hers, imagining and prolonging the scene that happened previously in his office today. Her mouth obediently molded against his, lips soft and plump as he grasped her tongue with his own.

It almost felt like a real thing. Almost.

He moved away for a second, admiring the image right in front of his eyes, she looked at him with lust-induced eyes, short, pink hair disheveled and messy against the smooth surface of his desk, her body splayed elegantly amongst the pile of urgent documents that he had no time to deal with.

Her form illuminated by the bright lights that shone through his ceiling high windows, reaching even the highest point of the city – Hokage tower. Her lips were wet and swollen as her chest was raising up and down erratically.

“Kami, you have no business looking like this.” He whispered into the night, his tone less dark. “Do you like tempting married men?” He asked, his voice, once again filled with blackness to the brim.

She moaned explicitly in response.

X

PRIVATE THOUGHTS

My love... Yeah Can't get my mind off you  I think I might be obsessed  The very thought of you  Makes me wanna get undressed

X

Truth to be told Naruto was obsessed with the pink haired woman to the very point where he would sleep calmly near his wife at night, his dreams filled with naughty images of the former woman.

He would feel guilty at times, but his guilt quickly vanished away with the blue ocean tides when laid down onto his desk in her full glory, spread out and whimpering under his ministrations.

His hands worked quickly, discarding off the useless fabric that hung around her skin annoyingly. His hands cupped her exposed mounds, feeling the soft flesh beneath his fingertips, rosy nipples hard against his skin.

He squeezed almost roughly, and his cock jumped with anticipation at the sensation when she hissed in pleasure, teeth sinking into her bottom lip deliciously.

Her hand dipped into his golden hair, fingers digging into his scalp as she pressed him closer to her body almost desperately.

“Touch me!” she cried out pushing his face directly into her chest and almost sighed in relief when she felt a hot appendage curling around her rosy nipple. “Fuck, Sakura.” He grunted, his hot mouth twirling against the hard pebble of skin as he used his other hand to feel the curves of her body, exploring her almost carefully, even as his touch held a hint of possessiveness to it.

“I want you inside of me.” Her words dissipated into the darkness of the room as he yanked down her pants, pushing them away completely, his tongue never leaving her abused chest. “Kami, don’t say things like that so easily.” He warned her with a final growl as he discarded off the last piece of fabric on her body.

“Please...” Her breath caught into her throat as he tugged her legs closer to him, his own body now positioned in between her legs. He pulled the waistband of his pants and boxers all at once with one swift movement, revealing a hard, long and thick member that pulsed with continuous excitement.

His fingers touched her heat, playful, light touches up and down as she moaned again and again, writhing under his touches, her back arched, her head pushed back, lips forming an ‘o’ as her heels digged into his back almost painfully. He coaxed her to submit, his fingers pressing deeper against the most secret part of her places.

X

PRIVATE THOUGHTS

I wanna feel your heart and soul  Inside of me  Let's make a deal  You roll, I lick  And we can go flying into ecstasy

X

He didn’t wait for her to say anything else as he spread her legs out completely, ravishing the image in front of his eyes. The ocean blue eyes darkened significantly, a glimmer of want and lust shined through them almost transparently.

He grasped his cock with one hand, using the other one to pin her wrists at the end of the table, behind her head with an iron grip. She didn’t mind, only encouraging him with a growl of her own.

He positioned his length at her entrance and swiftly pushed in, a silent curse fell from his lips, feeling her twitch against his cock. She was wet, burning hot and tight, at least that’s how he imagined her to be.

He didn’t wait for her to adjust, afraid that he might lose his control of the clone that he so carefully crafted in the darkest depths of his mind. She was his only private pleasure, one that he wasn’t willing to give away or share.

He pushed in almost relentlessly, rapid rhythm he set for himself. There was almost a hint of desperation to his movements as his muscles spasmed against her in the moments of heat and desire.

He was already breathless as it was, but her body was igniting all sorts of flames within his body and his lungs felt like they were on fire.

He grabbed her by the buttocks, rough fingertips pressing into the plum flesh, letting him lose his hold over her dainty wrists.

She moaned and cried under him, the sounds a complete bliss to his ears as her hands pushed him closer to her. His face was buried into the crook of her abused neck, her short locks tickled the side of his marked cheek as he struggled to inhale and keep his control over the clone beneath him.

“Ah, fuck…” silent curses fell out of his mouth one after another as he rammed in continuously, her heat surging him to stay in longer, crawling and sucking him in. “Sakura…” he whispered into her ear as he bit her earlobe aggressively.

His bloodstream was filled with her, just as much as his office space was filled with her gasps and pleads to go faster. He was intoxicated by this forsaken woman that just refused to leave his mind.

His throat grew even more tight at the sensation that coiled at the tip of his length.

And he did.

The delirious sensation finally kicked in, the feeling full of ecstasy as his seed spilled into her and she gladly and greedily swallowed it with her body. His veins full of that chemical feeling one would call love.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that.” He closed his eyes, almost refusing to see anymore of her. His lips fell over hers roughly, with passion, one last time before she dissipated completely just like most of his daydreams. He lost the control and she was his price.

His face was full of tenderness that he only dared to show in front of her, however his eyes were dull and empty, his exhaustion taking a toll on him completely.

It didn’t take too long for him to start feeling empty, because the Sakura he wanted existed only in the dark corners of his private thoughts. His mood sunk low, followed by a dull ache of longing.

He shook his head chasing the heavy thoughts away.

And maybe in a way it was bittersweet.

X

PRIVATE THOUGHTS

I wanna be with you  In spite of what my heart says  I guess I want you too bad

X

“Naruto-kun, are you alright?” He heard Hinata’s soft voice the following morning after he left his office space. His eyes tired, but his body was at ease.

“Yeah, why are you asking, Hinata-chan?” He answered her just as softly, his expression somewhere in between puzzled and exhausted.

“The anbu you sent off last night came by our house saying Hokage dismissed them, so they insisted to guard me and the kids instead.” A tinge of confusion was etched into her gentle features, she looked at him questioningly, pale, violet eyes narrowing.

“Ah, I sent them off since I had to meet up with Sasuke last night, he came back with the report.” Naruto said, scratching the back of his head almost uncomfortably, it was the best excuse he could come up with and it always worked. However, a look of uncertainty danced across his face just for a few moments, he was never a good liar.

A glint of suspicion flashed through the dark-haired woman’s eyes before she smiled at him, somewhat feeling more at ease.

“Oh, Sakura-chan must be really happy since Sasuke-kun is finally home for once!” She still held the kind smile she had on her face, looking at her husband form underneath due to their difference in height. Naruto nearly shivered at the mention of her name, the small pang of guilt he felt washing over him in a tide.

“Yeah, very.” His voice a mere whisper as the words came out from his lips. He smiled back, almost bitterly so, his mind tucking away the painful grudges, while he kept walking further down the corridor of their home.

He would always envy the raven-haired man who won her heart from the beginning, without any effort, without even trying.

Maybe that’s why Naruto had always loved Sakura, because even though his love would always remain one-sided, he could not help but fall in love with the rose haired woman over and over again.

She was one of a kind and Sasuke was a lucky bastard after all.

X

PRIVATE THOUGHTS

I'll always, always think of you

X

[lumassen]

How about for the Drabble challenge, either: 39 with Norway, 64 with Finland, or 103 with Iceland? (Not fussed with whoever else appears)

I went Finland and 64 because I had to XD I might do the others we as well though fuck it.

Prompt: “Just don’t buy a goat. I don’t care what you do, just no goats.”

------

Berwald started the car as Tino placed a small lunch bag onto the passenger seat through the rolled down window before he then leant on the car door, his arms crossed, and peered in.

"I've packed some sandwiches for you. Now, send me some cute pics of the animals, just don't buy a goat." Tino shot a warning look at Berwald as he sat behind the wheel of the car, then another at Peter who was strapped in his booster chair in the back seat.

"I don't care what you do, just no goats. Got it?"

"Got it." Berwald and Peter said in unison.

Tino smiled upon hearing their agreement and stood up, patting the roof of the car before he walked back toward the house. Berwald turned the car around in the driveway, then he and Peter waved to Tino as they set off down the dirt track towards the main road. It had been 6 months since they moved to the Finnish countryside. After living in Stockholm for years, Tino started to get fed up with the city and missed his home country greatly after being away for so long, so just before Peter was to start school they decided if they were going to move they should do it now before he got settled and made friends. 

Moving here was the best decision they'd made, and he was happy. Though his Finnish wasn't great he could get by with it, and Berwald was fine speaking Swedish or English in Helsinki with no problems. Out here in Askola however the majority of his neighbours only spoke Finnish or broken Swedish. But Berwald was picking the language up quickly, and Peter was enrolled to start at a Swedish speaking school and would learn Finnish there so it was a little easier on him.

They'd bought a house in Askola, an hour's drive from Helsinki so Berwald could still work in the city, but far enough into the countryside for Tino to be happy. They had quite a lot of land around their red wooden house, and Berwald thought it would be nice if they kept some chickens and bees. And a goat. Tino had entertained the idea of chickens and bees, but drew the line at a goat.

It was summer, and Berwald drove with the windows down, smiling as Peter shrieked and giggled in the back seat as the wind rushed through his hair. He looked out at the fields that stretched out around them, the only signs of life were the other houses dotted around in the distance and the single other car that he'd passed in the couple of kilometres he'd driven already. 

He sighed in content as the farm he'd spotted on his way home from work one evening neared and he flicked the car indicator on and pulled into the visitor car park. 

"Look at the cows!" Peter cried and pointed out of the window as Berwald turned the engine off and got out. 

"Tervetuloa! Kaksi lippua?" (Welcome! Two tickets?) One one of the farm staff asked as she greeted them. She was dressed in a costume of the Elovena girl, complete in her traditional outfit with her blonde hair sticking out from beneath her white headkerchief. Oh Berwald loved the weird and wonderful Finn's.

"Lehmä." Berwald said as he unbuckled Peter from his car seat and set him down beside him, then took his little hand in his and they walked to the entrance of the Country Fair and open day that the farm was holding this weekend.

"That's cow in Finnish. Can you say Lehmä?" Berwald said it again, and Peter repeated the word over and over as he excitedly jumped up and down.

"Joo. Kaksi, kiitos." (Yeah, two please.) Berwald said, and handed her a couple of euros in exchange for two tickets. Then she stepped aside with a smile to let them through and Peter tugged at Berwald's hand, dragging him over so that they could pet the little calves. 

They spent an hour or so wandering round, tasting samples of the farm produce and petting the animals and Berwald was enjoying being out in the sunshine with his son, watching him happily skip along chatting away to both other visitors and animals alike, until he stopped in front of a small pen and gasped dramatically, spinning round on the spot and looked up at Berwald.

"Dad. You might not wanna look in this pen. I mean, you will want to, but you shouldn't." Peter said, though he was grinning mischievously. Berwald stepped forward and peered into the pen and wished he'd taken his sons not to subtle hint.

There, munching on a bale of hay, was a tiny baby goat. He felt Peter tug at his leg and looked down at him,

"Can I pet it?" He said, and ran forward when Berwald nodded. As Peter was petting the goat, Berwald took his phone out and sent a photo of his son and the goat to his husband, hoping to guilt trip him with the cute picture. He sent the message on WhatsApp and almost straight away a reply came through.

12:34 Message from Tino: Yes it's cute, but NO!!!

"But pleeeeease Dad, I promise I'll look after it. Why is Isä okay with chickens but not a goat? It's not fair."

"Isä still says no, doesn't he?" Berwald looked down at Peter and put his phone away again in his jeans pocket and crouched down to Peters level, slightly amused that Peter knew exactly what he'd tried to do. His son was too like him sometimes, as Tino would say when he scolded them for ganging up on him.

Berwald nodded reluctantly, and Peter whined, leaning against Berwald's shoulder.

Peter was always Berwald's cute little enabler when it came to desicions that he was torn by, and although he loved Tino dearly, it was two against one on the subject of a pet goat. Besides, Tino liked cute things and would eventually come around. Right?

-----

"Alright Peter. You stay here while I speak to Isä. Keep still and I'll come and get you when Isä has calmed down a bit." Berwald said over his shoulder as he glanced at Peter, who sat clutching the baby goat. There were dirty hoof prints all over the back seat of the car, and Berwald was glad of the fact that the farm wasn't a far drive down the road or the Poliisi hadn't driven by to witness a goat on the rear window shelf at one point. 

"Okay! Good luck!" Peter grinned, and Berwald knew he'd need it and then some.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car just as Tino was walking down the garden path. Before Berwald could reach him or even say anything, Tino stopped dead in his tracks and Berwald felt the blood drain from his face at the expression on his husband's face. It was the expression of a man who'd just spotted his son clutching a baby goat.

"Rakas? Is what what I think it is in the back of our car?" Tino said, his voice dripping with rage despite the use of his pet name for Berwald. 

"Tino, I can explain. It was Peter's idea." Berwald said, his voice cracking nervously as he hurried over to Tino, grasping his hand for a second before he snatched it away. 

"Uh-huh, so Peter has a credit card now does he? With enough money to buy a fucking goat?" 

Tino's glare was harsh enough to bore holes right through Berwald's skull.

Berwald opened his mouth to try and calm Tino down, but at a loss for words he just stood there with his jaw gaping.

"Well that went better than I thought. Best not talk to Isä for a few hours though." Berwald warned, and Peter cheered, startling the goat a little.

"Fine. You can sleep in the barn with it then." Tino said, turning on his heel and stalked back towards the house, slamming the front door closed behind him.

Sighing as he ran his hand over his face, Berwald walked back to the car and opened the rear door to find Peter and the goat both peering at him with wide eyes.

"Hooray! So does that mean we can keep her?" Peter asked, and Berwald shrugged.

"I think so. Though I should probably invest in a sleeping bag..."

------

Isä = dad in Finnish

I absolutely loved this thank you so much Random for the prompt :’) This was inspired by a ‘cow party’ I went to in Askola when I was staying with my friend who lives there, so there are some aesthetic pics below plus a stock image of how I imagine Peter and the goat. Tada!

[undead-notunreasonable]

Happy Draco-O-Ween || Part 19 of 31 ||

"Please, you must tell me more about these airplanes you saw, I'm completely fascinated by them!" Vlad tepes called out to Dracula from his seat. A gentle snipping sound could be heard within the room, filling the silence with its slashing sounds. A hand came to the base of Vlads skull, forcing his head downward. Another snip.

Count Dracula walked toward the mirror in his living room, carrying a cup of blood as he watched his former lover having his 500 year old locks being cut off by a professional stylist. While he admired it at the time, it was much better that he adhered to the modern age of fashion & haircuts. His face were warm with admiration as he gazed at the man before him, enjoying the way he looked with his new transformation. The cut were showing of the angular jaw that Draculas fingers had once traced in the dark privacy of a bedroom. "Later, I'm sure we don't want to bore our employee with something as trivial as modern technology." He gave a half laugh, coming across as sincere.

But the hair dresser, a slim thing in torn acid wash jeans, a band tee, ginger bowl cut, and a nose ring, merely flashed a weak smile at his clients, focusing more on the task at hand. Truth was, he wasn't really ever listening to any of his clients, they were just meaningless conversations to pass the time to make customers feel more comfortable rather than sit in an awkward silence for 20 minutes to an hour. That's not to say that he wouldn't listen at all. Sometimes he would hone in on someone's conversation due to there being juicy gossip or a scandalous affair. Most of his clients were rich folks, they always had something to spread, be it money, words, or legs. This client though nothing really major, just a rich man helping a friend back on their feet. He wanted a haircut that was distinguished but young. A simple short back & sides, with a little more on the top to play with. Both vampires saw their revolting rotting corpses within the mirror, saw how old their bodies really were. That didn't matter to them right now, they could see each other just how they were when they were alive.

The hairdresser couldn't see that though, he just saw two middle aged men who seemed to have a few feelings lingering between them. He wondered if they knew that or whether it was some weird older generation thing where they still saw it as shameful thing to feel. "Head up please." He commanded, beginning to add the final touches of product to give the longer areas more of a waves texture.

Vlad looked up into the mirror, still the same rotting corpse but with a shiny new hairstyle and a humans fingers wobbling it about in shape. Humans clearly made more effort with their appearance these days. "What do you think?" His eyes met Dracula's within the mirror.

Count Dracula walked across to the other, perching himself on the edge of a table so that he came face to face with him. Longer fingers stretched out to hold the man's chin, all eyes on him. "I see someone as beautiful as the day I met him." His eyes turned gooey as he leaned toward him, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Oh, they are lovers, thats cute thought the hairdresser. It was nice to see an older generation of gay couples, being free to be who they are. Though he half wished the man would really give criticism on the cut but he supposed kind words to a lover meant he'd done a good job.

"Let me just check the back for you." He whispered down to Vlad, rising to his feet once more to join the hair dresser at the back of the seat. "Here, hold this." He instructed for the slim man to take his now empty cup. The red haired man held the cup against his stomach, letting his client observe his work. Draculas fingers lightly tugged at the small few strands that rest on Vlads neck. He gave a little nod in recognition, then reached for the scissors that rest on hairdressers table. He snipped off the tiniest of strands, and stood straight, meeting the hairdressers gaze in the mirror. "There. My apologies, I'm ever the perfectionist." He shared a wide smile, slapping him on the shoulder, and tightened his grip so the other couldn't move. He looked a little panicked at that. "That'll be all, thank you." Scissors swung open, hanging by a single finger until another held them straight out, and blade met throat. Dracula didn't let the human fall, instead, he made him stand up & watch himself bleed to death, his blood, his life pouring seemlessely into the cup Dracula made him hold, even as it overflowed onto the floor.

(Note: if you're going to a killer, always have wood floorboards with a varnish on the top. Much easier to clean up.)

Vlad sat there, elbow resting on the arm of the chair, fingers pressed into his cheeks and a look that was completely unphased by the horrific sight before him. Dracula took the cup from the dead man's hand and finally let him sink to the floor. Vlad turned in his seat to look at the dead body "It's a shame you killed him. I quite enjoyed the silence of the man. Humans love the sound of their voices these days, that sometimes I wish I had the gift of being Deaf." He twisted in his seat to look down at the victim, letting out an unsympathetic sigh "He really did do a good job on the hair do."

Dracula wasn't even bothered by Vlads nonchalent address of the ever growing cold corpse of their hairdresser. Instead, he rest against the wall next to the mirror, one hand bloody from murder, the other holding out the now overfull cup of here "Here, drink this." He ordered as he stared out ahead of him, lost in thought. "Did you bring me back to life? After my torture and death? Was it you who created me?" It was a question he hadn't dared to ask himself in a very long time. He looked almost distraught with it.

Vlad took a long swig of his freshly drawn drink, smacked his lips as if he were trying to decipher what kind of wine he'd been handed before replying in a most assured voice. "No. I did not create you. The vampire that made me, I begged for you to join me too."

"What?" Draculas voice wavered in shock at the news, he'd begged for this to happen?

Vlads hands raised with palms up, a sign of mercy for his silence so he could explain "We were losing the war, my most trusted advisor and the love of my life had been kidnapped by the Turkish. I didn't know what my next step would be. You don't know this but I used to plot and vent my anger in a cavern in the deepest woods of Wallachia. One day, that day, the cavern spoke back. It told me to lose but that I would win everything a thousand times over, that I could ruin those who set out to ruin us and come out with even a scratch. I was desperate to get you back to me. I didn't know what I was signing up for exactly but I asked whatever was in that cavern to find you, to make you the same as myself. I couldn't be without you. You deserved that justice too." Another long swig.

"It was your decision? You decided to break my heart into shatters when I hear they have decapitated Vlad III & placed his head on a spike? You decided I should come back and let me go home to my Mother only to kill her with a need I did not understand, to go and find my wife with my child, fighting everyday this vile hunger until I just couldn't bare it & I slaughter her?! I was going to be a father and you stole that from me!" Dracula snarled at the other, funny how ones image of someone can change so swiftly.

"It wasn't your child." Vlad snapped back, tone deathly serious.

Dracula shivered as though someone had walked over his non existent grave.

"She always fell for stable boys it seemed. I'm sorry to tell you this after so long but clearly she always found something appealing about a roll in the hay. Don't bark at me." Vlad raised his finger like a man commanding a disobedient dog. "You're a smart man, Omor. Think about it. Think how long you and I were gone at war, barely a few weeks home & you could feel the small curvature of life within her as she announced she was with child?"

Dracula looked almost defeated. So many years he'd spent quietly tormenting himself for killing both wife and unborn child just to satiate his unyielding hunger. Now, he knows that his wife was never his to begin with, not even his own flesh and blood. "Why did you say nothing?"

Vlad held out the cup of blood, Dracula looked like he needed it "For selfish reasons entirely. We were winning the war at that point, you were on form with all your plans of action, I couldn't risk my advisor losing that, I couldn't risk upsetting you."

"Would you have told me? Even if we had won the war?"

Vlad looked intensely at his lover, pausing a moment before replying "A little while after the celebrations. But I would have hoped she would be honest with you, I'm not a messenger."

"You're a warlord." Dracula huffed his laugh, quoting something he'd said centuries ago.

"Could you have still loved her despite her affair? Despite the child not being yours?" Vlad took a sip from the glass, seeing that Dracula didn't partake himself.

"Of course. I would be butchered the man who slept with her but I loved her entirely. I would've loved that child as my own. People didn't need to know." Dracula looked less like the terrifying creature the world had come to know but more solemn and vulnerable with the news, so heartbroken.

Vlad hated seeing someone to strong, crumble. He threw himself out of his seat, placing their shared cup of blood onto a table, and cradled the man he adored in his arms. "I'm sorry you had to hear the news but remember, this was centuries ago. We have a future to work at together now. It's you and I." He cradled the vampires face in his hands for a moment longer before sharing a deep kiss, trying to repair the small shatters of Count Draculas heart.

Do remember, the corpse of a dead hairdresser lies on the floor during their embrace. These are not loving creatures.

[justlookatthosesausages]

“In the eye of the storm” ◊◊◊◊ a post-Frozen 2 fanfic ◊◊◊◊ CHAPTER 4: In the fog

Elsa woke up to the soothing feeling of an opened glazed window and the heavenly sight of her girlfriend laying against the frame. Honeymaren was looking at Arendelle's landscape from the guest room, enjoying a calm break in the stormy weather to admire the mountains without getting showered by the rain. She also enjoyed the view when she turned at the sound of Elsa stirring and stretching in the bed, her ice night gown sparkling in the morning light. The blonde's short hair was just as messy as her long black one. The eternal flyaway lock came in front of her eyes, and the Snow Queen blinked tiredly as she passed a hand in her hair and fixed her bangs with a layer of ice.

"Join me?" Proposed Honeymaren.

Elsa went out of bed with a smile, and walked to her before kissing her in the neck. She nested her chin on her shoulder, circling Honeymaren's waist with her arms.

"Hi you."

"Hi." Laughed the brunette, kissing her temple.

She pointed at the village below.

"Look, we can see the unity statue from here."

"Yeah, I like to look at it sometimes."

"I think it's a good symbol to take example from in this time of crisis, don't you think? Our people together to face the storm and find a solution to it."

The blonde smiled. "You're very poetic so early in the morning. I could go back to sleep with that voice of yours that you use when telling stories to Sami children."

Honeymaren giggled and rubbed Elsa's cheek.

"You know, we could have camped outside. You're used to going on hikes, and the weather isn't really a problem."

Elsa hummed on her shoulder. Her hot breath in Honeymaren's neck underlined how the last part of her remark was true.

"I prefer when we sleep in the guest room."

The brunette smirked and turned to her.

"Having a taste for luxury, ex-Queen?"

Elsa poked her lover's ribs at her sarcasm. "No, I just prefer to give you the best comfort."

Honeymaren rolled her eyes, but knew she was sincere.

"Do I need to remind you that we slept countless times in Ahtohallan? I can handle a glacier, and a magical one furthermore, so I can handle a little storm."

"This is not a little storm." Warned Elsa, changing the topic unconsciously.

Her arms had even tightened a bit around Honeymaren's waist, and the latter patted her hands.

"It's okay. Relax. No pressure. No duties."

Elsa muttered something on her shoulder. Honeymaren knew her too well, sometimes it was unfair.

She then detached from her body to turn and look at her. "Honey, you said yesterday that I should relieve myself from tensions, but you should be the one to get rest. Yelena is going tough on you lately."

"I still have a lot of work to do. And she wants to pass me all her knowledge."

"And being the next tribe leader is a lot of responsibilities..."

"Which I willingly engaged myself into." Insisted Honeymaren, her eyes determined.

Two big azure blue ones saw that expression, and Elsa grinned.

"You're going to be the best."

"I know." Chuckled Honeymaren.

She noticed how high the sun was in the sky already, despite the clouds hiding it. "Now come on, we're going to be laughingstock if we arrive at breakfast after Eydis."

They closed the glazed window behind them and changed. Before passing the door, Elsa looked at herself in the mirror near the wall, and Honeymaren tickled her from behind. The blonde lost her balance and laughed out loud, leaving an echo behind her as they went to the corridor.

The surface of the mirror covered up with frost from the spot where Elsa had hung on to. 

=======

Honeymaren was right when she mused about the Northuldra and Arendellians uniting to find a solution to the magic storm. Elsa and Anna got very busy with only that in mind.

Several days had passed. The sisters didn't talk much, which was paradoxical for a period in which they actually were very supportive of each other. They had different duties on different places of the castle. Elsa was searching for spots all around the Arendelle village and surroundings where she could meditate and try to sense Nokk's or Gale's energy to understand their behavior, while Anna was sending messengers to neighboring kingdoms all around the country to check their administrative decisions and be updated to offer her help. At each meal, they exchanged on the other's progress, then returned to their activities.

Kristoff admired their work, seeing how they had been doing their best for the past days. However, he saw them less lately, and at a time when he had no duty and his daughter was busy in a math lesson, he went to visit Sven in the stables. He didn't expect to meet Honeymaren there.

"Hey, how are you? What are you doing here?"

He noticed that she was feeding some hay to a reindeer, and that the reindeer in question was obviously Sven.

"Oh, you're..."

"How's Sven?" Asked the Northuldra.

He gulped. "Why ask that?"

The brunette looked at him with comprehension. "There's only the two of us here, Kristoff. You can drop the lies."

The King rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

"Not... Fine."

They both turned to the reindeer, who was sleeping quietly. Only...

"He was sleeping when you arrived?" Asked the blond.

Honeymaren nodded. "Yes, and I've come here early this morning when I saw something was wrong."

So she knew. Who was giving it away? Sven or him?

"Kristoff..."

She put the pitchfork back against the wall and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"...Reindeers rarely live beyond 20 years."

"Yes, I know. Elsa told me on her last visit. We spent a long time talking about it. She knows all about wildlife, now, uh?" He smiled.

"She does." Smiled Honeymaren. "I've never met someone as curious as her. And I have Ryder as a brother!"

They both laughed. Kristoff cleared his throat.

"Is is true that you have a... Ceremony for..." He gulped again. "Deceased reindeers?"

"Yes. We do. First because in Northuldra culture, we consider that each living life is important, but also because a lot of us have been close to a particular reindeer helping them in daily tasks for years or on which they like to ride. We know what you feel."

There was a blank. She let that sink, and continued.

"When the moment will come, we'll give Sven the ceremony he deserves."

"It... It would be an honor if Ryder and you..."

"Sure."

He heavily sighed and sat on a stack of hay. Honeymaren joined him.

"I've known him all my life. He's not just a buddy, he's like... My best friend."

"Like a brother." Smiled Honeymaren.

Kristoff appreciated her precision. "Yes."

"How about you talk about it to Ryder on the next time you come visit us in the Forest? I'm afraid it will feel weird if you bring the topic during game night."

"Yeah, good call."

They laughed.

A few moments later, Honeymaren explained that now she was sure that everyone in her Arendelle family was alright, starting from Elsa and including Sven, it was time for her to go back to the Forest.

Elsa also insisted that she had duties to attend as well as the next tribe leader, and when her reindeer was ready to do the way back, they all assembled at the castle's entrance. Anna took advantage of Elsa and Kristoff talking to have a private talk with Honeymaren.

"I'm sorry again that Elsa shut you out and didn't tell you she came here."

The Northuldra chuckled. "Don't apologize for her. She apologized herself in her own way."

"Okay. You know, she uses this mechanism... Pushing people away... To actually protect them. It looks like she wants to be alone and reject people who can help her, but in fact..."

"...It's the opposite. She's craving for care." Finished Honeymaren.

Anna smiled. "You know her just as much as I do now. I'm so happy that being in couple helps in confessions."

The redhead's eyes stung with emotion. "Honeymaren, I'm deeply glad that you're her girlfriend and such a caring person and always here for her. You're the person she always needed, unconsciously."

"Oh, she's very conscious of that need, let me tell you." Winked Honeymaren.

The redhead's jaw dropped with shock at the innuendo, and they both laughed.

Anna retrieved her breath. "Anyway, her happiness is what counts most for all of us."

She put a hand on the Northuldra's shoulder. "She's always been happy since the day we stepped into the Forest and she met you. She's finally living the life she deserved."

"I fully agree." Grinned Honeymaren.

They hugged, and the others approached. Anna gave her enough chocolates to feed the whole tribe, and Elsa a kiss big enough to steal her oxygen. With an amused gasp and a pat on the blonde's shoulder, the Northuldra stepped back and climbed on her reindeer.

Elsa looked fondly at her girlfriend.

"Take care."

"No, you take care." Smiled Honeymaren.

Her loving gaze then became serious.

"Who knows what the Spirits might be up to."

Elsa nodded. She also rarely added a word after Honeymaren's brief wise sentences.

As if to give her courage, the reindeer licked the Snow Queen's face, and she chuckled and wiped her cheek.

"Yeah, I was happy to see you too, Vibeke."

She stroked the reindeer, nervously passing a hand along the Northuldra motives on the harness.

"Keep an eye on the tribe while I'm still busy here, okay? And tell Yelena I'm alright."

"I will", promised Honeymaren, finding her bashfulness cute as always.

"I was talking to the reindeer."

"Oh."

Honeymaren then lifted an eyebrow.

"...Wait, you're teasing me, right?"

"Of course I was talking to you, silly!" Laughed Elsa.

"You're such a dork." Sighed Honeymaren, shaking her head.

"11 years and you still fall for those tricks."

"Well, you do talk to animals all the time. So excuse me."

Elsa swatted her leg, and Honeymaren laughed before tapping her ankles on the reindeer belly to make it gallop.

"See you later, snømus!" Exclaimed the Northuldra, her voice echoing in the Arendelle's castle courtyard.

"See you later, Honey." Smiled Elsa as she looked at her lover go.

=======

Honeymaren had left thinking Elsa was alright; however, she wasn't. She had been meditating for days - sometimes even in crazy places that drove the others nuts when Anna and Kristoff learned about them, such as the rooftops or on an ice island in the middle of the fjord - and she still couldn't grasp Nokk's or Gale's energy. She could sense they were there, somewhere in the sky, yet nothing precise. Not only did that made her sad and worried, but she couldn't help feeling like a fraud. Sensing the other Spirits and preventing them from putting people in danger was literally her job, and she was failing miserably at it. Every time she told Anna that her new meditation session had been in vain, her optimistic sister replied that everything would end well eventually. Nevertheless, Elsa had more of a pessimistic personality, and the first day after Honeymaren was gone, she started to tell herself that she wasn't worth of Ahtohallan's blessing. What if she could never get why the Spirits were doing such a thing? What if she could never bring them back in the Enchanted Forest? What if the storm kept going eternally for generations and generations? Elsa shivered from this idea, and twitched on the top of the clock tower where she had been sitting in lotus position. She sighed and opened her eyes, looking at the dark horizon. The sun wasn't even setting yet and the sky was already gloomy, sometimes pouring with rain and sometimes bringing a blowing wind in the village. Sometimes both. At the moment, it was the first option, which was why Elsa had picked the clock tower, for it had a roof under which she could shelter. It also was the only remaining place in Arendelle that was high enough to stare at the horizon and could maybe help her sense the Spirits better, yet it changed nothing. She looked at the castle in the distance through the curtain of rain, and sighed again before standing up.

"There's no point. I should go home."

As she went down the stairs of the tower, she realized that maybe she should just stay in Arendelle and never dare to return to the Forest. Maybe that her home wasn't there, after all. Did she even deserve to come back to the woods alone, empty-handed, with no improvement?

She made her way through the village, not even walking fast, letting her thoughts and shame go down on her like the rain.

After entering the castle, Elsa went to Anna's study and was about to knock on the door, but it was, as usual, slightly open.

The redhead however seemed to be deep into work, and she heard Elsa's presence only when the Snow Queen's wet ice sandals tapped against the wood floor.

"Oh, Elsa!" Exclaimed Anna, smiling as she saw her elder after jerking her head up.

"Uhm... Can we talk?"

"That's great, I actually have something to tell you too."

"Can I go first?" Asked Elsa, clenching her hands.

Anna was a bit disappointed to not start with her news, but encouraged her, putting her pen back in her ink pot.

"Yeah, do say."

"I still got nothing."

"Uh?"

"I meditated, again, and again, and tried to sense their feelings, but... It's all blur. It's like they're really, really far, but at the same time I can tell that they're just above us. It's really weird, and I hate that I'm not able to understand why."

"It's okay." Smiled her younger. "Surely you felt a thing or two?"

Elsa shrugged, disappointed with herself. "Maybe. I felt urge, dread, anger, and they're both giving all their magical energy in what seems like a swirl, a mix of water and wind. I know this sounds stupid, because it's basically a storm. I could also feel that they're reckless."

Anna stared at her. She wanted to ask: 'Those are emotions you also felt from them days ago, has nothing changed?' but remained mute.

Elsa kept going. "I have nothing else to say. All I sense, coming from them, is danger. So, in summary, as long as I don't know what's going on, my best advice is to stay indoors and not do anything."

A long silence passed. Anna cleared her throat.

"Well... The thing I wanted to talk to you about is..."

She bit her lip.

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

"What...?" Muttered Elsa.

"A messenger from Hitiheimr came in this afternoon to tell me that the decision had been made official, all leaders are awaited there to discuss—"

"Did you listen to anything of what I just said?" Cut Elsa.

Anna closed her mouth, and realized that ironically, on the other hand, Elsa hadn't been listening to her sentence. She frowned.

"I did, but this is of the most importance..."

"I'm telling you to stay inside and you're telling me that you're going out tomorrow?"

"This is important." Insisted Anna.

She showed a paper that was on her desk. "All kingdoms of the country have decided on common agreement to gather in the eastern lands of Hitiheimr to have a national meeting and take decisions about this storm."

"I just told you my decision!"

"No, not yours." Tried to clarify Anna without sounding blunt. "This is about royal decisions. What the kingdoms have to do to face the problem."

"This is just dumb."

The redhead blinked and frowned. "Excuse me?"

"This is ridiculously risky!"

"And it's just as ridiculous to stay inside and do nothing!" Jolted Anna.

"Actually, I'd prefer that you don't do anything!" Threw Elsa, blushing in irritation.

"What?! Oh, come on, you're just angry because you've been nervous those last days. Look at you! You're the only person in the world who gets upset after meditating."

"Because the world needs me right now. And I don't have solutions."

"And that's because you can't find any that you're offended, I get it! But don't you think that the world needs me, as well? Are you saying that I can't help too? That I can't bring solutions?"

"No, Anna, you're confused."

"I'm the one who's confused?!"

"Don't raise your voice at me." Warned Elsa.

"No, look, I have all the rights to raise my voice at you. I've been just as distressed as you those past days to find a solution to move on in this magic storm and when I finally make things go forward, this is how you support me? Look, I have to—"

"There's no way you're leaving."

"No, I have to, Elsa, it's my du—"

"This is too dangerous."

Anna gritted her teeth at her interruptions, which were driving her mad.

"I have to go because—"

"Why didn't you even tell me a messenger had come this afternoon?" Frowned the blonde.

Anna exploded.

"You were out meditating, Elsa! Why was I supposed to do? Find you? Apparently I couldn't, for I see that you don't want me to step outside!"

"You know I meant that because I care about you." Grunted Elsa, not liking her tone.

"Because you're afraid I would what, fly away in the storm? No need to smother me, Elsa. I can take care of myself."

She saw that her sister was about to open her mouth, so she kept going.

"Also, your point doesn't stand. We went to investigate about the storm a few days ago, and you seemed fine about it!"

"Because like you say, it was days ago!" Exclaimed Elsa, now making big gestures of the arms and hands like her sister was doing on the other side of the desk. "Also, I was there to protect you just in case something goes wrong."

"Nothing will go wrong. The land is barely one day of travel from here."

"But—"

Anna was frowning now and she suddenly slammed both her hands on the desk. "That's enough, Elsa. If you prevent me from going, I swear to Odin that I'll give an order to the guards to stop you."

"You have no right to—"

"I definitely do", yelled Anna. "I'm the QUEEN!"

Now her fist was banging the table. "Which is exactly why I'm going to attend this meeting, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"FINE!"

Elsa's yell echoed against the walls and she left the room in a fury, nearly bumping into her niece who was about to enter in the study.

Anna slumped into her chair, sighing and massaging the top of her nose.

The little girl blinked at Elsa's exit, confused, but focused back on why she was coming.

"Mama..."

"Not now, Eydis, please."

"It won't be long, I promise." Said the princess, as it wasn't the first time that she interrupted her mother doing royal activities.

The redhead sighed lengthily.

"Go on."

"It's about a book."

Anna took a long breath in, trying to remain calm and not show anger or sadness to her daughter. She gave her a warm smile.

"Sorry, Eydis, I can't tell you a story right now. I'm busy, you see?"

"It's not for a story! Can you give me the one on runes again?"

Anna frowned and looked at her between two fingers of her hand. "Again? Fine, I'll get it for you, it's in the library. But I told you already, the runes on grandfather and grandmother's headstones stand for—"

"I know, I know." Grumbled the little girl with a typical childish annoyed tone. "It's not for that. I want to learn new ones."

Anna was too tired to ask why she needed it, and rubbed her temple. "Alright, I'll get it for you once I finish my work."

Eydis stepped further, and then around her desk, observing her mother. "Are you hurt at the head?"

"No. Maybe... Sort of." Exhaled Anna.

The girl jumped to sit on her mother's lap, and the latter huffed of surprise, but then smiled as the girl idly played with the stamp left on her pile of letters. A silence passed.

"Mama... Why are you working at this time?"

Anna looked at her desk above her daughter's head.

"I have to go in a neighbor land tomorrow to have a national meeting with other kingdoms, sweetheart. I need to make sure everything is set before I do."

"Oh, Queen stuff is so boring."

"Not always." Assured Anna with a chuckle.

She bent to blow a raspberry on Eydis' cheek, and the girl cackled with laughter.

Silence followed as the princess silently turned the stamp in her hand. Anna's pen scratched a paper calmly, and her daughter looked at the door.

"Where did Auntie go?"

The Queen winced.

"I don't know, Eydis. Sometimes it's best that way."

"Why did she leave then?" Asked the child.

"Well, you see, I told her exactly what I told you about the meeting. And... She doesn't really like that news."

"Why?" Frowned the princess.

Anna smiled. "People react differently to the same things. For example, Auntie Elsa cares about me more than anyone in the world, and she needs time."

=======

On the first days of the storm, Elsa thought that Anna would enrage to not be able to go outside because of the weather, yet she didn't; the redhead had matured through the years since she became Queen and a mother. She now enjoyed taking care of administrative things and staying indoors.

However, in the day that followed, Elsa had never wanted more for Anna to stay within the walls of the castle.

As Anna was preparing the harness of her horse with the help of a groom, Elsa kept pacing left and right in the corridor in front of the box.

The horse followed her moves with curiosity, wondering why the woman was walking like that and clenching her hands.

"Do you really have to go today?" Asked Elsa.

Anna inhaled discretely to conjure the needed patience as her sister had asked this question way too many times in the past hours.

"Yes, I have to go today. I'm expected."

"At least go on Sven!"

"No, he's getting too old." Reminded Anna, still not looking at her.

Elsa wasn't really looking at her either anyway, staring down as she kept turning and turning.

"Are you still thinking about pros and cons?" Guessed Anna when she saw her mood. "You seem to feel guilty about something."

The blonde sighed.

"I'm sorry for the dispute we had yesterday. I guess I was envious to see that you succeeded in your objective, your task, your duty... While I've done nothing."

Anna turned to Elsa with wisdom. "Which is why I have to attend this council. This is the part I play in, you understand that I have to do it."

The blonde passed her hands in her hair. Why was her sister always right?

"I know it's the safety part that worries you." Stated Anna as she stroked the horse's neck. "Remember, Mattias will be with me. Do you doubt of his dedication?"

"Of course not!" Exclaimed her elder.

Destiny had proven many times to Elsa that Mattias would do anything for his country, especially for Anna whom he had seen in the most dreadful situations and admired to no end, willing to give his life to make her safe.

"It's not that." Muttered Elsa. "I'm scared of this storm because it's magical, and... It's not something I can stop, or handle, or even predict. You've seen how it got worse every passing day."

"Another reason why I must leave now. The faster the council happens, the faster I'll come back."

Elsa was about to reply, but Anna really had the best arguments. Was it because she knew Elsa by heart now and figured that reason and logic worked well on her, or was it thanks to her experience in diplomatic missions? Surely both.

"Then be your best self."

"I will." Winked Anna, making the horse brush twirl in the air.

"If anything would happen..."

Elsa gulped, looking down.

"Anna, if I lost you, I think I'd lose myself."

The redhead's eyes widened.

As the groom gave directions to the horse to walk out of the box, Elsa stepped aside to let them pass, and she went near the wall, staying in the shadows.

When she lifted her eyes, Anna was launching herself to her for a big hug.

Kristoff stepped in the stables to join his wife and sister-in-law, who were giving each other the longest hug he had seen in a while. Giving them a moment alone, he saluted Mattias with a nod as he walked by him with his horse, also ready to leave.

When the sisters finally split up, Elsa fidgeted with the cords of Anna's coat. She distractedly passed a hand along the reindeer fur.

She remembered the year when she had offered this coat to Anna on Yule celebration. All the family was united that day, and the redhead had managed to hug Honeymaren and her at the same time in a tearful embrace, to thank them for such a gift. The whole coat was tailor made and customized based on Anna's favorite colors and motifs, and the couple had entirely hand stitched it. The Snow Queen passed a distracted finger on the green seam, then realized that she was losing herself in a daydream. She cleared her throat.

"You, uhm... You shouldn't wear your coat this tight. Riding will make you warm from the effort, and after a while, you'll feel cramped."

Anna smiled tenderly. "Okay. Thanks for the advice, Northuldra."

She loosened the cords a bit, and went to her mount to tie one last bag she had left on a bale of straw. The blonde stood still where she was in the stable's corridor, like she incited her sister to stay here.

"Do you really have to go?" Asked timidly Elsa in one last try.

In that moment, a flash came to her mind, and she realized that she had asked this sentence the exact same way to her parents as the last thing before they were gone... Forever. Instinctively and defensively, she mentally threw that fact at the back of her brain.

Anna sighed slightly and stopped attaching her bag to her horse. She gestured to Mattias to take care of it before she turned around and walked back to her elder, and the general nodded with a comprehensive smile.

Anna's eyes were two determined teal blue gems as she made her way to her sister, her gaze right into hers.

"Elsa, for the last time: it's my duty. As the leader of a kingdom."

"Queendom", corrected Kristoff with humor. "I technically do less than you."

Anna chuckled. She turned back to Elsa.

"As the Queen of Arendelle, I have to go check on neighboring lands to ensure that everything is fine for everyone. This is not only geopolitics, it's also humanitarian. There's no way I'm staying here and don't act to help."

Her voice was strong, clearly ordering Elsa to stop trying. She had a remarkable royal tone. In any other context, Elsa would have been filled with pride for her younger, yet since the day before, all of her soul was roaming with fear. She was so worried for Anna that she couldn't tell if it was a bad feeling or paranoia.

The blonde searched for help in the King's eyes, but Kristoff seemed way more confident about Anna's life than Elsa was, and it made her even more nervous. Was nobody going to be on her side? Why was no one preventing her from leaving?

Elsa could picture all the worst happening to her little sister, and she bit her lip.

"But what if something goes wrong? We can't communicate via Gale, and postal services have stopped with the storm..."

"I'll be alright." Insisted Anna.

The Snow Queen wasn't convinced, shyly looking down. It somehow reminded Anna of her own daughter when she received an instruction she didn't like and yet knew she had to respect. Why did Elsa look like a child sometimes? The redhead smirked internally.

"Hey."

Her elder only muttered a 'hmm' as an answer, not lifting her face. Anna bent her head to catch her gaze. She knew Elsa's coping mannerisms more than anyone.

"You know I'll be fine. It's a few days journey, with a path that is way less dangerous than the one leading to the Enchanted Forest."

"But—"

"Let me finish. I'm expected tomorrow at noon when the council starts. If we don't attend, they'll know. It's more than safe."

The blonde hated how perfect those points were. She now pouted, knowing she couldn't add anything else. Anna saw it but hid her amusement.

She remained serious and breathed in and out with a sad smile.

"Elsa. You have to let me go."

The blonde's eyes stared elsewhere to hide her emotion, and she eventually blinked her tears away. After a while, she sighed and assembled enough courage to look at her sister with a determined look.

"Okay. I'll give you space."

The redhead smiled warmly. She put her hands on Elsa's shoulders.

"The sun, the moon and the sky, yes, I know."

Elsa stared at her with a smile slowly stretching her lips, stunned by her sentence.

"You remember?"

"Of course I do." Chuckled Anna. "I'll never forget my very first birthday with you after the Great Thaw."

The blonde had done everything she could to chase her tears until now, and immediately they were replaced by other emotional ones. Anna noticed, and her hands switched from her shoulders to her cheeks.

"Hey, hey, no more tears, okay? I shouldn't have brought that up." She laughed nervously. "Time for me to go, or I'll be late."

She gave a sign to Mattias, who was holding both their horses, and when she joined him, Elsa could only follow without a word.

Kristoff came close to his wife.

"I'll take care of Arendelle with all my heart while you're gone."

"Just like I know you will, honey." Smiled Anna brightly, and they kissed.

She then put her feet in the stirrup and climbed on her horse's back. Mattias did the same, smiling at the reactions of her family.

Anna made her horse walk to the doors, and she turned one last time.

"I'll be back before you guys even notice I'm gone."

Elsa winced.

"I doubt a lot of that."

Anna gave her a positive smile and winked. With the clear light passing between the clouds behind her as she was high on her horse by the doors, she seemed to have an aura. Elsa missed a heartbeat.

"I love you." Mouthed Anna.

She then dashed her mount forward, closely followed by Mattias with the same speed. Kristoff waved at them as they rushed to the horizon, and Elsa stared at their figures shrinking in the distance.

"I love you too." Muttered Elsa.

Her heart was in pain watching her leave, now disappearing from her sight. First Honeymaren, now Anna... The Snow Queen brought her hand to her chest, tightening it against her heart, and closed her eyes.

She clenched her eyelids and bit her lips as one prayer in her mind begged Ahtohallan to keep an eye on the two most precious people in her life, and to make sure that nothing bad would happen to them.