#song is no reptiles by everything everything

[fart-stuff-by-goose]

spent far too long on this

[itsalwaysdark]

this is the musical concoction at current moment. everyone listen to these

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

ITS EVOLUTION, BABY !

pairings ⸺Yandere! Justice League! x Inmortal!Fem!reader.

couple of today! ⸺Yandere! Kal-El x Inmortal! Fem! Reader

This is a Headcanon!

sinopsis ⸺ You had seen it all. From the first whisper of life in the primordial oceans to the deafening buzz of the modern era. Every advancement, every innovation, a heavier burden on your shoulders. Nothing surprised you anymore; everything was predictable and monotonous, so you found refuge in a small apartment in the heart of Metropolis, away from the bustling human nonsense.

Until one day a flying bus crushed you.

warnings ⸺ Dark Themes, Dead, Religion, murdering, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Discrimination, War, Street Fights, Gaslight, Suicide, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, Kidnapping, NSFW, Sexual Content, Mental Illness, Addiction, Torture, Corruption, Isolation, Trauma, Phobias, Paranoia, Manipulation.

A/N — Bah, just another story pulled from my imagination after dancing all afternoon to Pearl Jam songs while cleaning the house.

This land is mine, this land is free

I'll do what I want but irresponsibly

▪︎Your immortality is neither epic nor glorious. You were not born from the stars or from scientific labs. There was no cosmic ray, no magic potions, no caped heroes to save you. Your existence is simple, without ornamentation.

▪︎You are water.

▪︎Or, to be more precise, you were a microscopic being living in a drop of water attached to a wandering meteorite that roamed through the void, in the infinite silence of space, before arriving on Earth. In that tiny liquid bubble, you were happy, surrounded by other beings who knew neither pain nor time. Everything was calm.

▪︎Until one day, your home plummeted toward the planet you would come to know as Earth.

▪︎There your true evolution began.

▪︎Millions of years passed, and you witnessed it all. You observed the first spark of life in the primordial oceans, the giant reptiles crawling across the continents, and the hominids standing upright on two legs. With each evolutionary cycle, you adapted, but you always remained, indifferent to the passage of time. Nothing truly affected you… Until Martha appeared.

▪︎Martha was your youngest daughter, for now. At eighty years old, Martha was the only thing you had left in this world that no longer mattered to you. Time, that relentless enemy that did not touch you, was wreaking havoc on her. Wrinkles adorned her face, her hands trembled as she knitted. But she made you feel something you thought you had forgotten: humanity. Martha kept you anchored to a world that had become irrelevant to you.

▪︎You did not live in Metropolis with her because she had her own life, and you spent your time wandering to every corner of the earth. Aimless and without a home to sleep in.

▪︎But you decided to visit her when you learned from her husband that she was in the hospital. It wasn’t serious, but she was the most important thing you had, and even at eighty years old, she would still be your little sweet baby.

▪︎Your journey was calm; listening to rock bands and old songs relaxed you. Nothing could disturb your zen state.

▪︎But then came the bus. The fucking bus.

▪︎An empty bus flew out from a nearby building, a flash of blue and red, and chaos erupted in the streets. Superman, facing Lex Luthor, knocked a bus right onto you. One second of distraction and you were crushed, like a puppet torn to pieces.

▪︎Your blood spilled onto the pavement and the broken glass of your car, which was now nothing more than scrap metal.

▪︎Superman, the defender of justice, landed right next to your car, using his infrared vision to see your mangled body inside the vehicle.

▪︎His face filled with horror.

▪︎Why always an innocent person? A choked sob, his eyes full of remorse as he saw you, a pool of blood and broken bones.

▪︎It was not the first time he had a lapse, but it was the first time it cost a human and innocent life.

▪︎The worst part was that you were young, with a long life ahead of you, and his carelessness took that gift away. What would happen to your family when they found out? How would they feel knowing that Superman, the so-called greatest hero, couldn’t save you?

▪︎He was devastated.

▪︎Until, to his surprise, you got up. Your body began to regenerate, bones rejoining, skin closing over the wounds. Superman watched you in disbelief, his hands trembling.

▪︎“Can’t you really be more careful?” you said, your voice filled with exhaustion, brushing off the dust as if nothing had happened. The hero was left speechless. You were immortal.

▪︎That was where it all began.

A/N - And well, this is just a little Headcanon that might turn into a series (hopefully not, because it would be way too long)

I’ll upload more soon, as well as another DC Yandere series. I’ll also post a few updates to explain some things—no need to read them, but it would be app

P.S.: If you’re a reader of the Silly Little Bat series, don’t worry. I’ll upload chapter three soon.

Don’t forget, if you want to request something, the shop is open

Take a bath!

[bks-writing-adventures]

Little Dancer (Aemond Targaryen X Lannister! Reader)

Summary: A wholesome little journey between the first time Aemond met his wife to the birth of their children.

Warnings: Mentions of childbirth, brief mentions of sex.

Aemond never thought he would be a father. He never even thought he would get married, until you came around at a ball. He forgot what it was, a name day of his nephews? Some celebration for his parents marriage? None of it mattered, because he sat still at his family table, watching the room dance and watching lords get drunk and stupid. And all of a sudden you had blocked his view, your hands on either side of his plate. 

“Do all Princes sit pouting at balls?” You asked. The question flustered him, his one eye meeting yours. It was like you were challenging him, and the thought made his heart spin in his chest. 

“Only when he has no one to dance with.” He answered. The words magically came to him, and he held his breath as he had waited for you to respond. 

“It is a good thing I am here then, is it not? Or would you rather sit here, eating scraps and wishing to be elsewhere?” You were so teasing- so confident, and before he knew it, his hand was wrapped around yours, and you were walking backward as you dragged him to the dancefloor. He did not have the time to be self conscious, and he could no longer let his eye wander as his hands landed on yours, spinning you, watching how your skirts swished and your hair got fluffy and frizzed. 

“So who are you, my little dancer?” He asked softly, holding you closer to him. You were warm, and he couldn’t tell what was making his heart pound. Your presence or the wine, or maybe an intoxicating blend of both.

 “(Y/N) Lannister,” You answered, licking your lips as the song ended. “If you wish to get to know me, we should move somewhere quieter,” You said gently, and he smiled as his eye wandered. 

“I know a place,” He said softly, his arm linked with yours as he carefully lead you out and into the gardens. It was quite the scandalous thing, he was well aware- but he didn’t care enough to stop. His brother was far from proper, he was a criminal and a disappointment. Speaking to a pretty girl in the garden would not be the worst crime. The garden hiccuped with the sounds of grasshoppers and frogs, and you smiled at the sound. 

“Do you know what that sound is?” You asked softly, and he gave you a curious look as you walked further into the great land of flowers. 

“Frogs,” He said simply, to which you nodded. 

“Mating frogs. Do you know how many eggs a frog can lay at once?” You asked.

 “Do you tell everyone your favorite amphibians facts, or am I special?” He smiled a little, trying not to let his interest show on his face. 

“There are facts much more interesting than that,” You answered, and for a few minutes, the two of you simply walked in the quiet. 

“How many eggs can a dragon lay?” You asked. 

“You take an interest in dragons, My Lady?” He asked in return, to which you nodded. He quietly sat on a bench, pulling you down to sit beside him. The moonlight did not do much to guide either of you, but he could make out the bridge of your nose and the slight shine of your eyes in the darkness. “Well, they can lay five, at most.” He responded, wondering if that would be enough for you.

 “Why is that? And what are they like?” You asked, resting your chin on your hand. You had always liked to learn about science, and this was your way in. Into the world of infinite books and knowledge. And he just had such a pretty face, which definitely helped the case. 

“The eggs? They’re hard and large and scaly,” He responded, reaching over to touch your hand. It was a daring move, but he wanted to feel you. In the darkness, touch the soft skin of your hand and wrist, and you didn’t move away.

 “Why is that? Are they not reptiles?” You asked quietly, and he had to lean closer to hear you.

 “Dragons cannot be put into a box, My Lady. They are everything and nothing. No mortal could ever learn to understand them,” He murmured, gently guiding your hand to his mouth so he could kiss it. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that attracted him so. You were just so unconventional, untrained. It was fascinating. 

“Not even Targaryens?” You asked softly as his breath tickled your fingers.

 “Certainly not. We only shout commands and hope they listen,” He chuckled softly. He was about to speak again when a loud shout suddenly broke the walls of intimacy around them. For the love of Gods, this did not look good. He wasn’t sure if he pushed your hand away, or if you pulled it back, but all contact was quickly broken as the two of you rushed to stand up. 

“Aemond, what is the meaning of this?” His mother sounded rather angry. She always was, whenever something like this happened. This was the worst possible time for her to wander over. 

“Mother, I was simply conversing with the Lady Lannister, and-” She cut him off, making his lips purse. 

“Without a chaperone, in the darkness, away from the sights of others? Do you understand how scandalous this is?” As you both shrunk under her lecture, neither of you argued back. And soon enough you and Aemond were sat before his mother and your own as they discussed. 

“We did nothing unholy. We were only speaking of the anatomy of dragons,” You frowned, to which your mother quickly shook her head.

 “Is that what they call it nowadays? This is out of control, and now your honor is ruined,” She huffed, and you stared down boredly at your hands. This is not how you thought your night would go, and the next sentence only made things more bizarre. 

“Her honor is not ruined, and I will ensure it. I intend to make (Y/N) my wife.” Aemond spoke, making your head quickly turn. All arguments died out like a flame without air, his eye soft and apologetic as he looked at you. But neither of you could claim to be mad about it. It was only the Gods’ odd way of making a match, and the next days were full of shy conversation and blushing cheeks, loomed over by your parents as they dissected every interaction.  

“I have a gift for you,” he said softly, pulling out a large book from his bag. It was bigger than your head, and the spine as so thick it could easily be mistaken for a brick. 

“Wow,” You mumbled, trying to read the front cover, but it is not in Common. Your eyes looked to his face, a curious look taking over your own.

 “It is in High Valyrian, its one of the oldest books in our library- well, not that one, that is a copy. The original would crumble like sand in your palms. But the language will be important for you to learn, I thought we could practice together,” He spoke, getting a little shy. It was a sweet sight, and you nodded as he explained. 

“Then you should allow me to teach you some Nyvia.” You responded. His brows scrunched a little. He had never heard of the language in his life.

 “And what is that?” He asked gently, intrigued. He didn’t realize you were bilingual, too.Your children would be an interesting batch. 

“My mothers first language. It is dying out, not many speak it anymore. Are you familiar with the island of Nyav?” You asked, and he nodded slowly. He had read about it in history books. It had been a brilliant place of beautiful plants and even more beautiful people. The stories said that it was lost to the sea, or to conquering, no one was sure. You were like a God of the old world, sitting right before him. 

“She lived there as a young girl, escaped before it disappeared, when she was betrothed to my father. I will admit that my own speaking is messy, but at least it is alive,” You spoke, slowly opening the book he had given you. You squinted a little. The letters were familiar, but the order was unlike anything you had ever seen. The longer he looked at you, the more questions formed in his head. 

“Do you think you have any Valyrian in you?” He asked. Nyvia had belonged to no one at all, no one knew where the people came from, only that they had not been there all along. Perhaps it had begun with Targaryen’s fleeing the Doom, or other Valyrians that escaped to the sea and washed upon its shores. 

“I do not think so. I do not look the part,” You reminded him, watching as his hand inched closer to yours, your fingertips brushing. It was perhaps the most touch you would be allowed until after you were married.

 “White hair does not make a Valyrian. It was only a thought,” He said, gently shrugging. His mind wandered to your children, the ones he would have with you. How many there would be. If they would have hair like yours, or hair like his own. How they would look on dragonback, and if you could all fly together as a family. Vhagar was more than big enough for two. You could hold his waist, and he would fly ahead of the children, and they would follow him like ducklings. Maybe you would have 12 children, one for every moon of the year. He cleared his throat as his mother called for him. Your meeting was done for the day. And when two more moons passed, it was finally your wedding day. Your dress clung to every part of your body, and your hair was covered with a heavy veil, beaded with pearls and gems big enough to pay off an entire house. 

The maids had tried to get you to agree to having pinned hair, or a more tradition style, but you declined. You never liked having too much on you, weighing you down. The air was stuffy with the breath of hundreds, and you tried not to look at the crowd as Aemond stood before you. “Kessa sagon sȳz.  Laesi va nyke.” He murmured softly, and you nodded as your eyes studied his face. He was wearing his fanciest eyepatch. You wondered how many were in his collection, and if you would ever see him without it. If he slept with it on. As you both repeated the words of the Septon, and it came time for the kiss- you stared at each other for a long, awkward few seconds, trying to figure out which one of you would lean in first. You may have been brave enough to approach him that first night, when he was just a sulking stranger. But now things were so much bigger. You had an audience. 

Finally, once he accepted you would not be the one to do it, he leaned down to press a brief, awkward kiss on your mouth, and you both parted with small, sheepish smiles. Once you were at your table, you both let out deep breaths from your lungs, and finally,you could curl up together, your arms looped around his as you giggled into his sleeve. “That was unbearable,” Your words were light, but the hit was strong, and he chuckled awkwardly. He had hoped the kiss was not that bad. But he felt a wave of uncertainty rushing into him. The first kiss was supposed to be magical, like you were bathing in fire and pureness and all that was good. But it felt like a child smushing two dolls together. 

He only hoped that with time, things would get better. And oh, how they certainly did. The bedchamber was full of soft sounds, and for every moan came ten laughs and raised brows. “Mm.. you sound like you are being murdered,” He murmured into your shoulder, and you smiled as you squeeze his hand. 

“And you sound like you’ve run 30 miles,” You responded as he panted onto your skin. 

“Oh, hush,” He smiled, gently biting your neck. 

“Little vampire,” You mumbled before he gently guided your face down to a pillow. He did not expect anything to come of your night of teasing and touch, but when six weeks had passed, he woke in the morning to you squirming from his arms. 

“It is too early for you to wake.” He grumbled. He had been an early bird before your marriage, before he was up into the early hours of dawn inside you, kissing you, teaching you High Valyrian as you tried to teach him Nyvia. 

“Yoane,” He spoke, and you shook your head. 

“Yo-awn-ee.” You repeated, and he tried once more.

 “Yoane,” He nodded, and you groaned into your hands.You were trying to teach him the words for love, your face pink with laughter. But as you rushed to the bathroom, your face took on an almost gray hue, and he found himself holding your hair in a big bundle as you spittled into the chamberpot, your belly soft and your nose sensitive. You were with child, or perhaps three or four, for when you reached your second trimester, you were a giant.

 “Mmm… you are like a dragon,” He mumbled as he kissed upon your stretched skin. 

“How so?” You asked softly, caressing his hair as his cheek pressed onto your belly. 

“You are going to lay a whole clutch. You must have three or four in here,” He marveled at the size of you, and you rolled your eyes.

 “I am telling your mother that you said that,” You responded, making his brows scrunch together.

 “You would not dare.” In the months of your marriage, Queen Alicent had grown quite attached to you. While she loved her son, she had always found him to be rather an intense man. She wasn’t afraid of him, no, but she never thought he would find marriage. Find joy. She thought he would grow old and become a knight or a philosopher, and she was quite pleased with you for bringing out these new parts of him. And so, if she learned of his comments of your size, she would beat him messy with a sock. When you were finally about to burst at the seams, you learned that there were things far more stressful than a wedding day. It was like everyone wanted to see your baby plop out, Alicent walking the room as they propped your legs off. 

“Would you mind leaving the room? This is a rather private matter,” Aemond spoke to his mother in a hushed voice, to which she gently shook her head.

 “And I am to be the grandmother of this child. I am close family, am I not? This is a huge deal for you, my youngest son having his first child!!” She gushed, and you shifted uncomfortably.

 “It may be hours before the baby arrives,” You groaned quietly, pushing the small wooden tools away from your legs. “I do not wish for too many to see my blood and my mess,” Your eyes held a certain fire, and your jaw clenched, and slowly her face filled with an understanding, nodding slowly. You were no Rhaenyra, and you were no enemy. You were her daughter in law, the wife of her youngest son. And so quietly, she left the room, leaving you to the midwives, the maesters, and your husband.

 “Perhaps you would like to leave, My Prince. It is not necessary for the husband to stay,” One of the Maesters spoke, to which you quickly shouted. 

“If you leave me I will ensure that you never get to hold the baby.” You said quickly. 

“I would not dream of it, my dearest,” He responded, coming closer so you could hold his hand. Several hours passed of loud noises and angry shouts, little crescent moons cut into his hand from your grasp. Child after child escaped your womb, until a whole batch of seven was swaddled. The midwives had to call for backup to tend to all the children, each of them around five pounds. It was a concerning miracle, and Aemond’s eye widened as he stared at all the squirming infants.

 “By the seven..” He murmured, quite literally. A child for every god. What a miracle it was. His heart fluttered with fear as he reached out to one of the infants, the only girl, her hand slowly curling around his finger. It was beautiful and scary all at once, like a comet scratching the sky. It was all so very real all of a sudden, his breath catching in his throat as his eye watered.

 “Are they all healthy?” You asked softly, sitting up slowly, your hands curling up. “Yes,” One of your handmaids quickly told you. 

“Small but mighty, they are all warm and crying,” She spoke, wiping sweat from your face. You smiled, taking a deep breath, your eyes slightly puffy as two of the babies were placed on your chest. Two of the boys, one with hair like your own, and the other with a head of snow, little curls still damp from birth. “Look at his little swirly wirlies.” You mumbled, and Aemond chuckled as he leaned over, two of the babies in his own arms. One with gingery Hightower hair, the other with hair like his own. What the litter you had. “How many girls?” You asked softly, reaching to gently take the blankets off, but Aemond answered you before you had to use your energy. 

“Just the one,” He said softly, placing her on your belly. The two of you laid in the bed for hours, covered in babies on every limb and surface. It was a mess, a loud swarm of little coos and crying. But neither of you had ever been happier. Aemond never thought he’d be a good father, but he sure could do his best.

Thank you to everyone who reads!! Feel free to send in requests :)

-BK ♡

[yan-maid-cafe]

Yandere Monster Fucker Concepts

Not a yandere monster. A yandere monster fucker with a darling monster.

Yandere Royal that gets kidnapped by the big snarling dragon. Only to become obsessed with you and not wanting to be saved. Anytime the hero comes, they alert their big dragon love. Watching as you burn the royal's armies to a crisp. They just want a happy little future between them, you, and your children. Don't question them, they will find a way.

Yandere Cult Leader and their eldritch god. They found you when they were at their lowest and viewed you as their saviour. They know that you're not a "good god", it's hard to hold that belief after sacrificing human life to you, but they don't care. They'll sacrifice countless cultists to you if it means that they can be in your good graces. They can't wait for you to finally arrive into their world, you'll destroy everything in your path and create your paradise. And maybe if they pray enough you'll make them your spouse. Or your pet. They'll take either at this point.

Yandere Pirate that unknowingly enters siren territory while sailing with his crew. Crashing into the rocks, leaving them stranded on the damaged ship. Despite trying to fight off the alluring melody, one by one his men begin to jump off the side into the water to be ripped apart by the monsters. Until finally the captain falls victim too, jumping into the water and feeling themself submerge. Only to be met face to face with the siren that had led them here, but they're beautiful, more beautiful then anyone the captain had seen. Their arms outstretched as if to embrace them. But at that moment, the captain was pulled out of the water by another ship of men. They crew quickly covering his ears before he could hear the song again. Able to read the men's lips as they explained that they were headed back to land. But all the captain could focus on was the beast he had just seen, and just how badly he wanted to jump in again.

Yandere Villain that works alongside a vast array of monsters, but only one catches their eye. One of the small kobolds that they had recruited. From the looks of it, they appeared to be the leader of their little group. They were actually starting to think that those kobolds didn't even listen to them, just their little leader. Which was less then ideal, that disloyalty would just make a coup easier to perform. So the villain needed to get closer to the reptilian leader, if they could get closer to them, than maybe they could redirect that loyalty towards themself. But they were cought off guard by the scrappy little thing, they weren't the brightest but they were very cunning. Having set traps all over the villain's lair in case any wannabe heros showed up. And they seemed to have memorized the villain's plans and were already getting their army in on it. Before they even knew it, the villain finally understood why the other Kobolds picked this one to be their leader. And suddenly the little reptiles didn't seem to dispossable.

I have a lot of yandere ideas but I'm too lazy to write them all. So I'm thinking of posting more concepts like this so I can post more often. It was much easier to write for me.

Also I tried to keep both the yandere and the reader gender nuetral. Which was easier said then done. So if this makes no sense, I'm sorry. I tried to make it work.

[farfetchdquest]

dan and phil as songs on my hopeless romantic playlist

tatinof, 2016 / interactive introverts, 2018 / no reptiles - everything everything / we're all doomed, 2022 / terrible influence tour, 2024 / heat above - greta van fleet / @/danielhowell insta post, 15/6/19 , @/amazingphil insta post, 1/7/19 / dan at london pride, 6/7/19 / @/danielhowell insta story, 6/7/19 / my love mine all mine - mitski / @/danisnotonfire dailybooth, 19/10/09 / AmazingPhil - INTERACTIVE CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE / i belong to you (+mon coeur s'ouvre a ta voix) - muse / @/danielhowell insta posts 1, 2, 3, 4 / two - sleeping at last / DanAndPhilGAMES - Dan and Phil Play FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S SISTER LOCATION / @/danisnotonfire younow, 2015 / @/amazingphil insta post, 4/8/18 / my computer - everything everything / interactive introverts, 2018 / AmazingPhil - ROASTING DAN'S 'FASHION'

[the-oblivious-writer]

After the Storm |2|

Tara Carpenter x Spider-Woman!Reader

Chapter two: Repeated Mistakes

Summary: Another time's a charm, right?

Warning(s): Swearing, Police!Sam, & spidey level violence

Notes: Not my gif! Writing for spider!reader is literally so fun

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

“So if you need a hero, just look in the mirror...” You quietly sang between bites of the sandwich Tara packed for you. You were currently on a rooftop with your feet swinging off the edge and mask half up as you ate. 

You continued to hum along to the song that was playing in your head when you heard your phone ring. You turned it over to see Tara calling you.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“You need to come right now,” a loud crash could be heard in the background, “It’s Dr. Connors—shit!”

“Tara? Tara!” The phone cut out and before you knew what you were doing, you dropped everything and started swinging to Blackmore.

When you got there you could see The Lizard through one of the windows as he shredded the place to pieces. He was in the middle of clawing up the wall when you snuck up on him.

“Ugh, we have to stop meeting like this,” you leaned up against the wall on the opposite side, arms crossed.

“Spider-Woman…” The reptile snarled. 

“Dr. Connors! How've you been buddy? You know…since we squared up in the sewers?”

He didn’t respond verbally; he swung his large tail at you and you jumped up to the ceiling, dodging it. He didn’t relent, continuously attempting to grab and claw at you. You were able to land a few punches to his face but not before he lunged at you, landing the both of you in the college’s lab.

He now laid on top of you with one arm raised, ready to claw out your eyes. “Your breath is horrible by the way,” you remark before webbing his eyes, using that distraction to slip free.

You both wrestled with each other, causing an even greater mess. You were on his back, holding onto him by your webs as he tried to get you off. Suddenly, he rams his backside—you—into the wall and it feels like the wind just got knocked out of you.

He looks over to the filled beakers and combines its contents, throwing them at you as it explodes. It looks like it took you out but suddenly you emerge from behind him, putting him in a headlock.

“Why can’t you be a normal lizard,” you grunt as you do this.

He throws you to the ground, slamming his fist down with a great force. You quickly move your head before it could get squashed from the giant lizard's hand. You leap up, quickly dusting yourself off and your fight with The Lizard continues.

You’re able to get him out in the halls, trying to control his movement with your webbing. “Can’t we just talk this out? You’re not thinkin’ straight doc!” You shout as he tries to rip off your webbing. He takes another swing at you, and you leap up to the ceiling. 

You swung and crawled around the ceiling as he tried to forcefully tear you down. You grab a light but it falls, causing you to drop to the ground and Connors leaps at you but the light from before falls on his head.

By the time he’s up, you’re ahead of him, webbing his hand to the locker but unfortunately giving him a weapon as you see him ripping off the locker door you webbed him to, raising it in the air and ready to swing.

“Oh boy.”

You leap backwards with each swing he took then slid between his legs using a web. He turns around to see you squatting. 

“Alright so you don’t wanna talk?” As the reptile responded with a growl you cut him off by webbing his mouth. “There you go!”

 He ripped off the webbing and swung around his tail. You held onto it… What a mistake.

“Don’t–uff–make me–uff–have to–” you said as he swung the tail you clung on back and forth against the walls, “hurt you!” Suddenly you fly further down the halls, still holding onto the tail that has now separated from the reptile’s body.

“Ahh!” You screamed before harshly hitting the ground. “Ugh, disgusting,” you threw the tail off of you before leaping back up. The Lizard, who already had a freshly grown tail, was walking towards you with loud stomps. 

You webbed both sides of his shoulder, lunging forward at him but he quickly reacted by grabbing your head and slamming it into the window beside him. You were practically suffocating under his giant hand as you struggled to tear away from his grip.

You grunted when he suddenly dropped you and turned to face his left. You looked over to see Tara, raising a trophy that you assumed she hit Connors with.

“Tara,” he growled, stomping towards her as she backed away with each step he took.

The Lizard was about to attack Tara but you pulled his raised arm back with a web. You continued to web him up as you crawled around him, trapping him as a spider does with its prey. 

He struggled to break free from your web jail as you immediately went to Tara, taking the trophy from her hands and throwing it out the window, causing the glass to break. You pulled Tara close to you, hands on her hips as her hands held onto your shoulders.

Tara’s eyes shifted up and down your mask face before you finally spoke. “I’m gonna throw you out the window now.”

“What?!”

Before Tara could process what she just heard, you did as you said and threw her out the window. She shrieked and you shot out your web for Tara to hang by. Tara was still gasping in shock as she felt around the web that was now sticking to her waist. She swung back and forth as she was finally able to process being thrown out a window.

By the time The Lizard was finally able to break free, police sirens could be heard. You smirked behind your mask as you heard them, moving into your notorious Spider-Woman squat.  

“Uh oh…someone’s been a bad lizard,” you quipped in a teasing tone. 

Your fight quickly travels to the library but by the time you lift yourself up from the last blow, Connors is nowhere to be seen. You let out a sound of frustration as you looked around the destroyed room, no sign of where he could have gone.

—

“No,” Sam said with firmness in her voice as she and Tara washed and dried the dishes.

“Pleaseee?” Tara begged her sister. She was trying to convince Sam to let you come over for dinner but it was no use; Sam was never your biggest fan. The fact that you were a genuine kid with a high IQ didn’t matter at all to her. Tara knew Sam was being biased because of how you defended a certain masked vigilante. She’d be grounded for life if Sam ever found out Tara’s relationship to said vigilante. 

“No is my final answer.” Sam turned off the water, walking over to sit on the couch. Tara put down the rag and followed her sister.

“You just need to get to know her.”

“I know plenty.”

“It’s not fair Sam; you haven’t even given her a chance,” Tara’s voice ran hot with frustration. She let out an aggravated groan, stomping off to her room and slamming the door shut before Sam could stop her.

Sam sighed, rubbing her temples as Tara took out her phone and sent you a text.

wife to be (8:43 pm) you doing anything rn?

bug girl (8:43 pm) possibly getting ready to see you if I get a yes

wife to be (8:44 pm) See you in 10?

bug girl (8:44 pm) ofc<3

wife to be loved ‘ofc<3'

Just like you said, you were there in ten minutes. Tara heard a light knock on her bedroom window and turned over to see you giving her a dopey smile. She giggled before walking over to lift up the window. 

“Hey, bug girl,” she greeted before leaning in and giving you a kiss. You melt into the kiss as you both wrap your arms around each other. 

When you break apart, you look into her eyes with that same dopey smile. “Hey, gorgeous,” you replied before giving her another kiss. 

“Come on, it’s cold out. Let’s get you inside,” Tara said after the kiss, not waiting for a response as she pulled you inside by your sleeve. 

“You okay?” 

“Hm? Yeah—yeah of course. Why?”

“You just seem…off,” you answered, giving her your full attention.

“Just another fight with Sam,” Tara responded, waving you off as she sat down on her bed. Her head followed your movement as you walked over to sit beside her, gently placing a hand on hers.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” she answered honestly.

“Okay, we don’t have to,” you turn over and reach into your bag, grabbing something, “Guess what I got…”

Tara grinned as she saw you had something behind your back, “Is that what I think it is?”

“Depends,” you reveal what’s behind you, putting it to your chest for Tara to see, “how passionate are you about sour gushers?”

“Did I ever tell you how amazing you are?” 

“Are you talking to me or the gushers?”

Tara pretended not to hear you as she grabbed her laptop from the nightstand and opened it. “I’m in the mood for some horror,” she said as she took your arm and wrapped it around her. "Wow, guess I know my worth when gushers are involved."

A couple hours go by and you’ve fallen asleep on her shoulder. Tara looks at your resting face and smiles to herself, but her admiring is quickly interrupted by police sirens coming from outside. The sounds quickly wake you up. You look around as you become self aware of your surroundings.

You look out the window from where you sat, seeing the flickering lights as the police cars raced through the city’s streets. You give Tara a look that she has gotten enough times to know the meaning behind. 

She lightly nods at you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before saying, “Go get 'em, spidey.”

You grab your bag before jumping out the window, luckily wearing your suit under your clothes.

Tara sighed to herself as she stared out the window you just leaped out of. 

“What am I gonna do with you?”

—

A few hours later, you decided to revisit the sewers. You were determined to have your traps work this time. After some tweaking and adjusting, they were all set for a re-do. You refused to just sit back while The Lizard crawled the city’s sewers, endangering the city.

As you set up the last trigger, you heard a noise. It sounded like a low growl that only grew and grew with time. You hurriedly shot a web, now hanging from above.  You carefully, and quietly, watched as Dr. Connors rummaged through his belongings; it looked like he was looking for something.

You hung for a few more seconds until suddenly your spidey senses went off; you immediately swung down, dodging The Lizard’s mean claws when they swiped at you.

“Filthy pest,” the mutant growled with venom laced in his tone. When you finally got a good look at him, you could tell he was more far gone than the last you saw him.

“Damn, doc. You look like shit,” you said before he whipped his tail at you. You jumped up, quickly webbing his eyes and feet. While he was distracted by the webbing, you took that as an opportunity to lure him closer to your traps.

You thought back to your crawler trap you performed at the school, thinking it could work again. You crawled around the lizard, webbing him up as she struggled and swung his claws and arms. You could see it. He was about to take one more step and your plan would have worked.

Suddenly, your spidey senses went off. You looked to your right to see him crashing into a pipe. You were able to move before it fell onto you but when you looked back to The Lizard, he had broken free.

The reptile growled before running at you with full force. Instead of moving, you stayed there until you jumped at the last minute; he crashed into the wall, letting out a loud and frustrated growl.

He quickly picked himself up, ripping a pipe off of the wall. That’s when you realized. He had cornered you. This whole time you thought you were setting a trap for him, but alas he’s done it for you. 

Your senses were going off but you had nowhere to go. There wasn’t even enough room to crawl upward. Before you could even think of where to escape, you felt the metal pipe The Lizard harshly swung at you. It made contact with your ribcage, causing your breathing to grow slightly heavy. 

Surely The Lizard knew a metal pipe wasn’t enough to keep Spider-Woman down?

Suddenly, he threw it to the ground. He picked you up then harshly threw you back down, and you were now doubled over with your backside showcased to him. He balled up his fisted then slammed them down on your back, causing you to let out a loud gasp as you felt the air being sucked out of you.

It all made sense; he was just warming you up with the pipe.

He turned you over and slowly dragged his claws across his chest as they grew in size. You groaned in pain as you tried to push his big hands away but he only pushed his claws in deeper. “There is no stopping me. I’m getting stronger everyday!”

He tightly gripped your throat as he raised you up, slamming your head harshly against the wall. You gasped for air as you felt tight pressure surrounding your throat. “There’s no stopping…what you too will soon become,” The Lizard snarled before throwing you to the ground.

You weakly lift yourself up by your arms, now on your knees and coughing. You were hardly catching your breath when your senses went off again. 

You were too weak to react when it happened. When his large hands slammed on both sides of your head. The ringing in your ears being so loud you couldn’t hear your own screams. You couldn’t hear…anything. 

You were helplessly laying in pain when The Lizard made his escape. When you couldn't hear his loud stomps, or even the dripping water; you knew you were screwed.

You were scared and alone.

-----------

A/N: I swear I'm gonna make up for the lack of Tara and R scenes in this chapter with a one-shot/drabble for this story

[soohiefan13]

jiji headcannons bc he’s silly & i luv him 😽

- he loves “girls” by the dare (if u are familiar with this song, u get it…)

- he loves a good party and is def the type to accidentally leave his introverted friend (okarun) alone bc he got too caught up in the fun (he feels horrible about it afterward

- he can rap

- he goes ALL OUT for halloween. always has the best costumes.

- definitely also listens to sleeping w sirens, pierce the veil, and mcr. don’t tell anyone tho. that would taint his supa cool guy reputation.

- major sweet tooth!

- pierced his own ears

- total flirt, duh. canon. but when it comes to actually having a genuine convo w a girl, he gets all flustered and nervous.

- uses the animoji feature a lot. his favorite is the unicorn 🦄

- definitely kisses his friends on the cheek platonically

- him and his parents wear matching pjs on christmas

- not very book smart, but do NOT ask this kid about rocks. he will ramble, ramble, ramble.

- his favorite movie is superbad

- he listen to megan thee stallion and sexyredd

- he wants to play the violin SO BADDDD. he wishes his parents would have forced him to be a child prodigy

- he loves to swim. and by that i mean, he likes to be in the water. he’s a doggy paddler.

- NIGHTCORE! ENJOYERRRR!!!

- he would TEAR UP fortnite. like he’d be really good. he would beg his parents for v-bucks. emote king.

- he can’t dance

- hates reading. attention span too short.

- likes reptiles

- loves watching tv w seiko

- his love language is gift giving

- he can’t do a cartwheel. not even a somersault.

- has bad anxiety and sleeping issues but doesn’t really open up about it.

- read fanfics. x readers… yea he’s a freak. yea we love him just the same.

- competitive but NOT A SORE LOSER

- likes musicals!

- honestly, this kid listens to anything and everything.

okay that’s all i got in me. if you have more, share them w me. i luv interacting with people.🥳

[ask-elliot-doorman-fam]

"Not-a-Hunt" (Tera Doorman Lore)

Tera sat perched on a tree, watching the ground below, tail flicking absently as all her senses tuned to the world around her.

Her hands feeling the rough contours of the ancient bark, audials picking up the wet-season breeze rustling through the leaves, what little sunlight that did penetrate the canopy flickering around her harmlessly.

She could feel the shifts in wind current, inbuilt sensors initially used to detect depth and vibration in mining tunnels and construction zones modified instead to detect air pressure, vibrations that traveled from the ground and up into the tree she was sitting in.

Even with her visor off, she could feel the den of sprats nesting in the roots of the tree, the Fox Monkeys playing in the thiner limbs of the canopy above.

Her audials picked up the distant bleat from a heard of Wooldeer, a calf calling for it's parent or the far closer cries of the birds beginning to settle down and roost, making sure their flock was safe and secure.

The jungle was a safe space. One that welcomed her, that didn't go silent in fear when she walked past- instead only quieting down in curiosity before resuming it's playful song, accepting her as part of itself.

It was more then she could say for the colony. Where she was the predator among prey, instead of another welcome part of the great chain.

Snap!

Everything stopped at once, and she opened her eyes, sniffing the air like a bloodhound on the scent of it's chosen path.

Rumbling footsteps broke through the silence, and the sensors on the back of her neck came to life, a brown shaggy shape made it's way through the forest, followed by it's other half and a litter of wrestling puppies that yipped and growled at their siblings.

She relaxes. As does the forest- sound slowly resuming to its normal volume as the apex predators are welcomed; it's not night yet, and this pair is already carrying a kill to feed on, some poor, gigantic reptile that had undoubtedly gotten too close.

They stop just below her, both adults diving into their kill with fevor, the puppies too young to eat solid food yet, and so they instead climbed on top of their Dad, chomping on his ears and annoying him just enough her him to tip his head and slide them off.

Tera let out a small chuckle as the smallest of the litter tumbled head over feet onto the ground. This family wasn't too close to town for her to be bothered about chasing them off or killing them... which was exactly why she came out this far.

She pulled out a rough little leather-bound journal and a even rougher looking pencil and began to sketch.

She wasn't the best artist- she rarely drew, but her little journal was filled with sketches and notes on all the animals she's seen and observed of the several years she's been going on hunts.

And right now, she was sketching the little family in the section labeled Nightstalker.

The first few pages were of weak spots, mating behavior, how to track them; everything useful in hunting them...

Then after the fourth... the wording and observations changed. From outright aggression to respect and curiosity, how they raise their children, diet, pack behavior, migration patterns, the way their fur changed texture between wet and dry seasons...

The last page was all about how to care for one. nail trimming, fur care, horn maintenance. An entire old feeding schedule that had her getting up every 2 and a half hours as well as the ingredients for a milk substitute.

A yelp caught her attention, ripping away from her sketching to look down finding that the two bigger siblings had accidentally injured the smaller one. The paw bleeding onto the open ground.

Her brow furrowed. This was normal enough, runts like this one didn't normally make it to adulthood... didn't mean she had to like it though.

She put the journal away, watching as the mother looked at the siblings and reprimanded them... but put little effort into comforting the injured party aside from a single lick.

She sighed as she made a dumb-reckless, gold hearted decision.

She climbed down the tree headfirst- landing without a sound right next to a family of the most deadly living things in the planet, and crept up to the injured pup, calling to it with a mimicry of another puppy that had taken many practice sessions with Mars Bar to get right.

It limped forward curiously, and with a swift movement she grabbed it and pulled it into the bush she was hiding in, it tried to yelp, but she kept it's mouth shut with her hand as she pulled out a bandage from her pocket, wrapping the injured paw securely.

"Shhhh. Shh. I got cha..." She mumbled, cleaning and dressing the wound with uncomfortably practiced swiftness before she bolted back up the tree when finished. Leaving the pup confused and licking at it's now wrapped foot.

It looked up at where she returned, but she was already gone, hidden amongst the canopy branches...

It returned to it's family, able to put pressure on the paw again and resuming play... it won the second time- if only because it caught the other two off gaurd.

Tera smiled from her new perch, observing the family until they set off once more, all three pups able to keep up with mom and dad...

[lady-of-endless]

Amor Fati (Sir Crocodile x Reader)

(lovely gif is not mine, please show appreciation to the OP)

Author's Notes: Italics=Flashback!!! Surprisingly, this has to be one of my favorite fics I ever written.

If you want to go for the full experience, you can listen to this song I used to write it on repeat: https://youtu.be/4cfeGqMGIa0?si=ABbfS4SqOqYj7qgb

Warnings: descriptions of physical injuries and pain (Croco is suffering a bit).

Tags/tropes: old flame, new old flame, reunion, distressed Croco - as I mentioned in the warnings.

It is believed that across an infinite span of time, everything repeats endlessly in your life. Some events are like relentless echoes, whispers that can accompany the present.

Sir Crocodile did not believe in such philosophy, not when for him the past stayed dead.

His inner brows were raised in boredom as he watched some thief being brought into his office by two of his men. This thief stole supplies from his syndicate's stock and it seemed just a minor headache he needed to get rid of. He puffed on his cigar, blowing out a dense cloud of smoke as he looked at the person in silence. The one that was interfering with his work was unfortunately tied up, sitting on a chair in front of Crocodile's desk, with a hood on their head. He made a sign to his men to leave him alone with the culprit.

Crocodile sighed and walked to the person, his words coming out naturally because of how many times he used them.

"You should have known better." He started in a low tone, grabbing the dark cloth and getting rid of the hood to see the face of the victim.

There weren't many times a man like him got speechless in front of someone. His eyes widened and his pulse quickened as he recognized your face.

"Oh dear..." The man heard you say in a shocked voice from a triggered flashback.

Crocodile was too vulnerable to dismiss you, too exhausted and broken from his battle with Whitebeard. He was stumbling through narrow streets at night when you found him like that. There was blood in one of his eyes making it hard to see clearly and some on his face and he couldn't understand why. The pain in his arm was dominating any other pain from other wounds he had. He didn't even want to look down at his body, not wanting to realize the damage.

A stranger rushed to help him. You offered him help, stitches, a bath, a place to stay for a while and sort his thoughts.

Days went by and you stayed by his side until he was healed enough and until you finally knew his name and he knew yours. Possibilities of silent bonding moments were always neglected by him as he faked sleeping whenever you would check his bandages and temperature. It seemed like healing took such a long time for him but he was not alone. You were the one he was shouting at when the pain from his phantom limb was unbearable, shouting and clinging to you tightly. You were the one to patch the scar from his face over and over again when he took off his bandages too early in an ardent wish to get rid of them.  Every day, you were trying to come up with ideas for a prosthetic for his left arm and every day you tried to be there for him.

So many times, you witnessed his wrath, not because of his scars but because of his failure.

There was denial, then anger - lots of it, understanding of his situation followed by despair. You never got to see him go through acceptance, he passed that as he started planning his next steps with a furious determination. He was blessed with ambition but poisoned with rage. You listened to his grand plans until it was late at night because he wasn't the one to open up so when it happened, you always listened closely. He denied it but he wanted to change for you, he wanted to show you and everyone that he can get powerful and wealthy.

All until one morning, when he was gone.

Not a goodbye note, not a thank you, not a clue of where he might go. Only his used bandages were left behind like damaged skin that had been shed by a reptile. And old skin of the man he was before those scars.

His eyes were now analyzing your face, trying to assess what changed about you and what stayed the same but you did the same. Crocodile scowled as your eyes woke up useless nostalgia and caution in him. He saw you looking at the scar from his face like you haven't seen it before so many times.

"Don't worry about it." You said once as you fixed the last strap of bandage from his face. "It will look good on you." You added with a reassuring smile.

Now a ghost of that old smile he remembered played on your lips.

"It does look good on you." You finally talked, tilting your head and studying him more.

Immediately after that, your eyes followed his left arm, down to where his hand was destroyed in the past. Your breath hitched as you noticed a golden hook. The sharp replacement looked heavy, you wondered if it caused him pain.

"Do not look at me with the pitiness from years ago." He said in a voice that was intentionally cold, knowing how his eyes probably softened at the sight of you after so many years.

He was standing tall before you like he tried to prove himself and his growth to you, something out of his character, something he never did nowadays.

"I'm not." You tried to lie and change the expression on your face. "Just worried."

Crocodile sighed at your care. He wished that this trait would disappear from you in time, but it did not. He lit up another thick cigar and his eyes lowered on the bindings from around you.

"I cannot say that I am glad to see you again. Not like this." He started, regarding you messing up by stealing from his allies without even knowing. "But I am pleased to see that you are still alive so I can finally pay my debt. With this being said, I will let this minor incident pass without consequences." He explained in a monotone voice as he moved closer to untie you even if he knew he should keep his distance to maintain his composure.

You waited patiently, not being able to take your eyes off him. Crocodile was taller, broader, and sophisticated, with a deep voice and a few fine expression lines on his forehead that made you curious. His slicked-back hair made you want to run a hand through it only to remember how it looked messy. He tried not to look at you as he bent down slightly but his eyes met your lips and the curve of your neck, his favorite spots he used to look at in the past to calm himself down.

"You started smoking." You blurted out as he leaned closer to untie the knot from your back and smoke from his cigar invaded your nostrils. His moves stopped for a moment in which he looked at her eyes from up close.

"You started stealing." He muttered narrowing his eyes. "From whom you should not, even." He said with a calm intensity.

"I had to." You responded firmly. "You never know when you stumble across an injured man that you need to share your supplies with." You retorted with mirth, never breaking eye contact.

You could have sworn that you caught a glimpse of a smirk on his face at your ironic answer.

After he freed you, Crocodile walked straight to a cabinet where he kept his liquor and prepared two glasses for them. He felt like he needed it after the reunion with a face from his past, a face he could not get back to, and maybe try to thank for everything.

"So...Who did I steal from more precisely?" You finally asked calmly breaking the silence. You wondered what he had become in all this time he went missing.

The image of you standing in front of him now slowly made Crocodile allow himself to bring back old memories he tried so hard not to recall.

Little by little, Crocodile started to list every plan from those he told you in the past, the difference being that now those were already successful. For a few moments, it felt the same as it was years ago as you listened to him. As much as he changed, there still was a certain dangerous gleam in his eyes when he talked about his goals with you that remained the same. While he was narrating most of the horrible things he did to get where he was there, the sun was slowly setting in the desert, seen from the window behind him. Crocodile even went further and subtly conjured fine grains of sand around himself to show you the ability he has. You thought about how he truly looked like a Desert King.

The two of you, who seemed like you had never met before because of how much you have changed but yet somehow recognized each other at your very core, looked into each other's eyes and felt a sense of eternal recurrence.

You listened to everything he said, sipping his fancy alcohol and clinging to the nostalgia while he clung to the possibilities of this reunion. 

Perhaps it was a chance to start over and do things right this time, but it also meant a chance to repeat his mistakes all over again.

[onlyymirknows]

When Jean Met Karina

My submission for Reijean Christmas Week, Day 1! Prompt: meeting each other's parents.

Read on AO3 (link)

Word Count: 7.1k AU: Modern, they're adults in an established relationship Genre: Angst w/ a happy ending (plus fluff and reijean banter) CWs: Reiner gets triggered, past emotional abuse, past character deaths (car accidents), past suicidal ideation, past homophobia, dropping of the f-slur

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Reiner handed Connie a small notebook, “Everything you need to know is in here but feel free to text me if you got any questions.” He leaned down and traced a small heart on the glass tank, leaving visible smudges. The small turtle near his fingertip glanced at its owner for a second before lazily paddling away to rest on some driftwood.

“I’ve watched him before, remember?” Connie reminded Reiner with a small, exasperated laugh, “He’s in good, capable hands. Don’t worry.”

Jean, noticing the way Reiner’s jaw clenched, squeezed his boyfriend’s shoulder. This was their first time leaving town for Christmas and thus the first time they had to get someone to pet sit in the winter. The scariest season for a reptile keeper.

“Babe, I know what you’re thinking but we specifically got you a native species so you don’t have to worry about the heat as much. Besides, he’s a tough little guy.” Jean forced a grin, hoping to mask his own tense mood. Reiner returned a small smile accompanied by a soft exhale. Bingo. 

Then Jean turned to Connie, “Thanks for watching Bertl for us, Con. We’ll text you when we’re on our way home.”

“No prob, guys,” Connie beamed while ushering the couple to the door, “drive safe and see you next year!”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

When Jean slid into the passenger seat of Reiner’s truck he noticed a text from Connie, “try not to lose ur mind on reiner’s crazy mom k?” He scowled.

“What’s wrong?” Reiner pulled his door closed and started buckling his seatbelt. He turned the key in the ignition, the car engine purring to life.

“It’s nothing,” Jean muttered while buckling his own seat. He fiddled with the air vents while Reiner picked out some music on his phone. When Last Christmas began playing Jean couldn’t help but shoot a glare at his boyfriend.

“What’s with that sour expression?” Reiner asked incredulously, “It’s literally the 21st of December.” After a pause he added, “There’s no Mariah Carey on this playlist, okay? Just let me have this, Jeanie.”

Sighing, Jean looked out the window at the now moving pavement. “Okay, but once we get through this I get to choose the next playlist.”

Reiner laughed. “Yeah, yeah. As if I was going to torture you with 8 straight hours of Christmas music.” He glanced at Jean for a second with a warm smile while they waited at the red light letting out of their apartment complex. “Y’know, I love you in spite of the fact that you hate fun sometimes.”

Jean cracked a genuine smile for the first time that day. Maybe he did hate what many people would consider fun but it was only because he had taste. Unlike most of these Christmas songs that felt gaudy and artificial. Yet it was hard to deny the joy they seemed to bring his boyfriend so Jean disregarded his own preferences in the second half of December. Sacrifice and all that.

Indeed, his high school friends were confused when he brought a more “lowbrow” guy back with him from college. Then they saw the way Reiner made Jean loosen up and it all made sense. Somehow Reiner could convince Jean to try something new or give another thing a second chance. As if the blond were a siren and Jean a sailor who never dreamed of diving into the ocean.

Sometimes diving into the ocean to swim with a beautiful siren meant meeting a shark. In this case her name was Karina Braun and, as far as Jean was concerned, she was his enemy. Someone to challenge and fend off and—

“We can’t keep avoiding this, Jean,” Reiner paused the Christmas playlist, “do you want to talk about it now or when we’re closer to my hometown?”

The question broke Jean out of his thoughts and he bristled once the words registered in his mind. “What’s there to talk about?”

Reiner didn’t say anything as he merged onto the interstate. Instead he looked over his shoulder to check his blind spot before roving his gaze between his mirrors.

Jean rubbed his eyes, yawning, his own gaze fixed out the passenger window. When Reiner’s silence continued after they’d settled into the flow of traffic he turned his head. He couldn’t help but frown seeing the way Reiner’s fingers gripped the steering wheel, digits clearly tensed. Knuckles turning white.

“Rei, you good?”

“I’m fine.”

“Ugh.” Jean crossed his arms with a huff. “Look, I know I’m not the best at hiding my frustration. But I also don’t see what there is to discuss when you know damn well how I feel. I would’ve rather invited your cousin to come visit us. If it weren’t for the mem—”

“Don’t,” Reiner cut in firmly, his grip on the steering wheel tightening further, “we shouldn’t talk about that. Not right now… Maybe after we swap.”

“Right,” the brunet replied hoarsely, cheeks red, shoulders aching from suddenly tensing them hard as stone. He bowed his head, ashy brown locks slipping down and obscuring his face from view.

“But I shouldn’t’ve suggested talking bout all this right now,” the blond grumbled, “I shouldn’t’ve even said anything to begin with but I’m a dumbass and… yeah.” Reiner turned the music back on, keeping his eyes glued to traffic the whole time.

The two sat unspeaking for a moment, allowing the dulcet tones of Andy Williams to fill the space. Was it really The Most Wonderful Time of the Year? It certainly didn’t feel like it and, well, Jean knew he wasn’t helping. 

Despite his genuine intentions to help, Jean recognized how his stubbornness and results driven mindset could push the envelope at times. Sometimes to the point of causing more harm than good. And selfishly, he didn’t want to alienate his favorite person, so,  as the next song began, he placed a gentle hand on Reiner’s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze.

“You’re not a dumbass,” Jean reassured, voice regaining its warmth, “I think you’re being proactive and I’m proud of you for how well you’re handling this situation in spite of my bad attitude.”

“As if you’re usually a ball of sunshine,” Reiner muttered, though Jean saw the way the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth twitched. “I guess I want you to at least try being nice. Just try. You know?”

“I will try,” Jean murmured, “but let’s talk about all this later so you can focus on the road. I think that’s a good idea.”

Reiner nodded, his fingers still wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. Jean turned up the stereo before reclining his seat and looking out his window. The snowy landscape rushed by, filling his vision with a blurred field of white. It was oddly beautiful. Mesmerizing, even. Maybe that’s why his eyelids felt so heavy… though it was probably just last night’s insomnia finally catching up to him.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

A sudden blast of cold air rushing into the cabin jolted Jean from his slumber. He looked up to see Reiner standing outside his open door and the expression on his boyfriend’s face instantly perked him up. Unbuckling himself he turned in his seat to tightly wrap his arms around Reiner who fell into the embrace with a shudder.

“I.. I’m so s-sorry for waking you, Jean,” Reiner whispered breathlessly into his ear, “I just… traffic slowed down to a crawl and I g-got this feeling that..”

Jean hushed him while running a hand up and down his back. Looking past to the world outside he noted they were in an empty parking lot attached to what was probably an office building. Perfect. He took a deep breath before turning his attention back to his partner. 

“It’s okay, I’m glad you woke me up. You did exactly what you’re supposed to, Rei. You did good. Really, really good.”

They stayed in each other’s arms for a couple of minutes while Reiner calmed his shuddering breath. When Jean felt that his boyfriend was sufficiently recovered he insisted on taking the wheel. Originally the two planned on each driving about half of the way there but Jean assured that he didn’t mind driving extra.

“You get full music privileges,” Jean announced as he buckled himself into the driver’s seat, “hell, even Mariah.”

“Jean… it’s o-okay..” Reiner protested while wiping his eyes, “you don’t have to listen to music you hate just for me.”

“But I want to,” he grinned and gave Reiner’s shoulder a playful shove, “I know you would do the same for me.”

“I think I already do that, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean. I don’t really hate any of your music but obscure 80’s ska and Medieval French battle hymns aren’t my favorite,” Reiner hesitated, “sometimes I’m not really in the mood but… I mean…” he trailed off, his mouth forming into a thin line across his face.

“Let me guess, you don’t ask me to change it because you don’t want to be a bother?”

Reiner turned to look at Jean head on and nodded, his lips curling into a faint smile.

Jean huffed. Of course his self sacrificing boyfriend would listen to literally anything Jean wanted. It was true that Reiner was a lot less picky than him. Yet he also felt like a bit of an ass for never asking if Reiner actually enjoyed his more niche music choices.

He reached over to ruffle the hair on the back of Reiner’s head, rolling his eyes as he did so. “You gotta work on this with your therapist more, hon. I want you to tell me stuff like that. I’m here to please you as much as you’re here to please me. I expect some god damn equality in my relationship. Got it?”

The blond’s smile grew wider. “Loud and clear.”

Without another word, Jean leaned over the console while pulling Reiner towards him. Their foreheads connected with a gentle bump and a renewed smile on both of their faces. Jean tilted his head slightly, making a point to nuzzle the crook of his boyfriend’s nose. 

Reiner sighed contentedly in response. He lifted his hand to cup the side of Jean’s face before pressing a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. A silent thank you from one to the other, sweet, but also vulnerable. Like a hesitant knock on the door of Jean’s world where Reiner sometimes felt out of place. Such as now when his emotions were still dizzying and fraught.

Recognizing the call, Jean pulled Reiner in closer, and began peppering kisses all over his face. Forehead, brows, nose, cheekbones, jaw, chin. And the lips, so many flurried pecks to Reiner’s chapped lips. Every one meant to convey the same thing—I want you. I love you.

“Aghh!” Reiner exclaimed through the attack. He let out wonderfully delighted laughs that set Jean’s soul alight with elation. “Mercy, mercy!”

After one final kiss on the mouth, Jean let Reiner go to lay back against the passenger seat. The blond heaved deep breaths, latent laughs slowly dying on his lips. “I love this side of you,” he mused while buckling himself in, “I’m honored whenever you let me see it.”

“Oh shut up,” Jean chuckled, “you make me sound like some humorless dolt.” He turned the key in the ignition then threw the car into reverse.

“Humorless dolt? Not at all. In I fact think you’re very clever,” Reiner replied smoothly, “witty, droll, piquant—”

“That’s enough, Cyrano. Now where do you want to stop for lunch?”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The rest of the drive was relatively smooth. Free flowing traffic, no heated discussions, and Reiner chose a music genre both of them could agree on—80’s glam metal. Jean liked the fashion and showmanship while Reiner appreciated the cheese and catchy hooks. It wasn’t until Jani Lane started singing about secrets he just couldn’t tell that the dreaded topic returned.

“Are you sure you’re okay pretending to be roommates in front of my family?” Reiner asked after turning down the stereo. His voice cracked at the end, prompting him to busy himself with his water bottle to soothe his scratchy throat.

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Jean sighed.

“Are you positive? We don’t have to keep it a secret if you really don’t want—”

“I’m positive, Reiner. It’s seriously not a big deal.”

“And you’ll try being nice, right?”

“Oh course,” Jean insisted, albeit gently.

“…Okay,” Reiner moved to turn the volume back up when Jean covered the dial with his hand.

“Do you not trust me, Rei? To keep my cool?”

“It’s not that I distrust you, Jean. You have a cool head. I mean, I was surprised when your friends mentioned how much you fought with Eren growing up.” The thought of teens Jean and Eren fighting brought a smile to Reiner’s face. “But I know how strongly you feel about my mom. I don’t really blame you, either, it’s just that she’s not actually a villain.”

“I know that,” Jean responded tersely in spite of himself. In his periphery he noticed the way Reiner winced and he sighed again. With a softer voice he added, “I understand that she’s a person.”

“But will you keep that in mind when she says something ignorant? Or even just a little frustrating?”

“Reiner, I promise you I will do everything in my power to make this experience as stress free for you as possible. Trust me.” Jean glanced over at his boyfriend with a smile before returning his attention to the road. They were back on surface streets by now, mere minutes away from the Braun household.

The front door of the house flew open upon their arrival, before Jean finished pulling into the driveway, even. It was a teenage girl absolutely beaming from cheek to cheek, eyes scrunched closed in joy. From the passenger seat Reiner let out a quiet gasp and, without a word, hopped out of the car to meet her.

“Reiner!” She squealed excitedly, throwing her arms around his neck and letting him lift her up from the ground. “I’m so happy you came!”

“And I’m so happy to see you again, Gabi. You’ve grown so much!” He gave her a twirl before setting her back on the ground, his own smile dazzling brighter than the strings of twinkling lights surrounding the open doorway. 

Jean hadn’t seen his boyfriend this happy in weeks and he couldn’t help but stare in grateful awe at the scene. Then his eye caught another figure approaching from inside of the house and his mood immediately soured. 

It was Reiner’s mother, Karina. She was short with drabby blonde hair, deep set eyes, wrinkles, and a very familiar nose. Not exactly the face of evil but he knew how looks could be deceiving.

Reiner turned and hugged her with what looked like a beat of hesitation. Jean quickly got out of the car to join them, his protective instincts kicking into high gear. He heard the tail end of a sentence on his approach that made his jaw clench.

“…you’ve gotten so big, Reiner.”

Thankfully he caught himself before his face formed into the nastiest scowl, remembering the promise he’d made minutes earlier. Besides, Jean reminded himself, maybe Karina didn’t mean anything negative by it when she called her son big. Perhaps it was a comment on the fact that Reiner had gotten into weight training since his last visit.

“Thanks mom,” Reiner replied with an awkward chuckle, “I started going to the gym more regularly. So uh, let me know if you need me to lift anything for you while I’m here.”

Okay, so he was right to give her the benefit of the doubt. Except then Jean’s resolve almost faltered yet again when Karina greeted him, leaning past Reiner and smiling at him.

“Ahh so this is your roommate Gene, I take it? It’s nice to meet you, dear.” 

Of course she said his name wrong. Fucking Gene, as if he were a pair of denim pants. His hazel eyes narrowed dangerously, preparing the most passive aggressive response possible when Reiner suddenly jumped in with a correction.

“No, mom. It’s Jean. Kind of like fawn but with a J.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed with wide eyes, “I’m sorry, I had no idea. It’s wonderful to meet you, Jean.” Her expression softened back into a smile as her gaze moved to Reiner’s truck. “How about we get everything inside? It’s starting to get chilly.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

“So Jean’s bags should go into the guest room, then?” Reiner asked as they carried the last few things inside with them.

“No, dear, that’s where Gabi’s staying,” Karina responded, “your aunt and uncle are out of town on a couple’s trip with the Grices. I offered to let Gabi stay here.”

“Isn’t it great, Reiner?” Gabi hopped excitedly between each foot, practically jogging in place. “Just like old times! Remember how my parents and I would stay over for Christmas Eve and we’d all wake up together the next morning?”

Reiner nodded, “I do remember. You’d kick me out of my room and I’d sleep on the couch.” Though the wording sounded bitter the smile on his face indicated he felt quite the opposite. “So I’m guessing I’m on the couch while Jean’s in my old room? I’ll take my stuff to the living r—”

“Ahh, no,” his mother interrupted, “Falco will be on the couch.”

“Falco?” Jean found himself asking, trying to place the vaguely familiar name.

“My boyfriend!!” Gabi practically shouted. Reiner looked surprised before quickly recovering into a warm smile.

“Also a family friend,” Reiner elaborated, “his parents are the ones traveling with my aunt and uncle. I’m guessing my mother agreed to let him stay over, too.”

“I did, yes. He’s currently visiting his brother out of state but he’ll be here in a couple of days. I know it’s… unusual but do you mind sharing a room?”

“I don’t mind,” Jean replied, practically holding his breath. Was this for real?

Karina lowered her voice so only the two men could hear her, “Thank you. I obviously can’t let those two share a room, even if they’re both 18. It wouldn’t be decent.”

Oh. Of course it was a concern about the teenagers having sex. Jean held in a sigh while Reiner hurriedly ushered him upstairs to his childhood room, saying something to his mom about coming back down soon for dinner.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

“Looks like we lucked out,” Reiner muttered after closing the door shut behind him, “though I’m surprised she didn’t insist on finding me a sleeping bag so we didn’t have to share the bed.”

“Maybe she’s trying not to push her luck,” Jean sat down on said bed and looked around the room. Any decorations Reiner may have put up as a teenager were long gone. Her son had been out of the house for close to a decade at this point so perhaps that was warranted but it still rubbed him the wrong way.

“Did you know your mom sanitized your room like this?”

Reiner shrugged and plopped down on the bed next to him. “No, but it doesn’t bother me, either. I don’t want to be reminded of the old days, anyway… it’s not like they were good.” As nonchalant as he probably tried to sound, the edge in his voice gave him away.

Jean frowned and wrapped an arm around Reiner’s shoulder, pulling him in for a sideways embrace. “Don’t say that, Rei,” he leaned over to whisper into his partner’s ear, “maybe you didn’t have any good days in this room but we wouldn’t be here right now if your entire life before college was exclusively miserable.”

“You’re right,” his boyfriend pressed their foreheads together gently, amber eyes closing, “I owed Porco a visit, anyways.” A single tear rolled down Reiner’s cheek as he took a shuddering breath, “Sometimes I can’t help but still feel like they’re both my—”

“Hey, hey, don’t go there,” Jean cut in, hands quickly cupping the other man’s face, “I… I understand, you know that. And I also get you can’t exactly help it sometimes but I’m also not gonna let you just say it. Because it’s not true. It was never true. Never.”

In his mind Jean thought the words he wouldn’t dare speak aloud right now. Not as Reiner began weeping quietly, tears seeping into the cracks between his own face and Jean’s supportive palms.

It’s not true, no matter what your mom told you.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Over the next couple of days Jean found himself on high alert. Despite the fact that Karina never said anything outwardly hostile, he couldn’t help but notice her frequent attempts to get her son alone. As far as he was concerned, no good could come from such an interaction.

Thus he made sure to intervene every single time, practically gluing himself to Reiner’s hip. Somehow he managed to do so without any pleading expressions from his beau. No desperate glances silently screaming for Jean to behave.

Instead Reiner thoroughly enjoyed himself, catching up with his baby cousin and introducing her to Jean. Gabi, while initially a shock to the senses with her loud voice and frequent exclamations, quickly grew on him. She was spunky, reminding Jean of a younger version of himself.

All the while Karina stood on the sidelines, watching. Occasionally she made some attempt at joining in on the conversation but often failed to connect. Gabi also made some efforts to bring her in on some topic or another but the old hag was usually too clueless to contribute. Talk about satisfying.

Jean smiled every time she made eye contact with him, imagining how much Karina probably hated him for not letting her sink her claws into his man.

Everything changed when he woke up alone on the morning of the 24th. The moment he realized Reiner wasn’t there he grabbed his phone to check the time. It was 7:18, meaning he hadn’t grossly overslept. Then Jean noticed a text message from Reiner from around an hour ago.

“Gabi begged me to pick up Falco from the airport with her. Should be back before breakfast.”

He sighed in relief, happy that Reiner was occupied by Gabi and not his mother. Speaking of, Karina usually served breakfast around 8, meaning the three should be back soon. 

Jean got up from bed and commenced his morning routine: showering, brushing his teeth, skincare, and of course haircare. By the time he wandered downstairs in some comfortable clothes it was already 7:55. Reiner and the kids were due back any minute. He sat down at the kitchen table and did a crossword on his phone while he waited.

Karina stood by the stove cooking up something for all of them to eat. If Jean had to give her credit for something, it was her cooking. Even something as simple as scrambled eggs and bacon smelled absolutely divine coming out of her kitchen. Had she been any other person he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to learn her secrets.

“Here you go, Jean. I’ll pour you some coffee, too.”

A plate with some eggs, sausage, and toast suddenly appeared on the table before him. He looked up at her, surprised that she would serve him breakfast before everyone else was present. The past couple of mornings they always waited for everyone, no matter how much Gabi insisted she was dying of starvation.

As if reading his mind Karina spoke up again, “Gabi told me they were running late and would grab breakfast on the way home. So it’s just us two this morning.” She placed a decorative mug of black coffee next to Jean’s plate. 

The mug was Christmas themed with little reindeer flying through the sky pulling Santa’s sleigh. Except instead of being cartoonish it was elegant and minimalist. White silhouettes on a black background with smooth looping script wishing him a Merry Christmas. Okay, maybe he had to give her credit for her tastes in drinkware, too. It was a wonder where Reiner got his adorable but tacky tastes.

He sipped on the drink, still piping hot from the coffee press, while Karina brought her own plate over and sat across from him. They ate in silence, Jean practically gluing his eyes to his phone screen to avoid catching her gaze. Without Reiner’s presence there to rein him in, the temptation to tear into her only grew. 

He just had to hold out until Reiner and the kids came back.

“They probably won’t get here until lunch,” Karina suddenly stated right as Jean finished the last bite of food on his plate. The way she said it sounded so certain. Probably? That was definitely a lie for appearances. She knew they wouldn’t be back for a while.

Jean swallowed hard, eyes finally snapping up to look at Karina. “Why do you say that?”

“I asked Gabi to buy me some time, and so she lied to Reiner about when Falco’s plane landed,” she replied, expression stony, “I thought, if you won’t let me talk to my son then I might as well talk to you instead.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Are you the reason my son won’t answer my calls anymore? Why he blocked me on social media? Why I haven’t seen him since my mother’s funeral several years ago?”

“You’re damn right I’m the reason,” he declared, feeling a fiery heat ignite in his soul, calling forth the fury he’d contained over the past few days. One built up by years of watching his best friend suffer from deep emotional wounds primarily inflicted upon him by this woman. Jean clenched his fists, mentally preparing himself for what felt like an ensuing battle. 

She frowned, the wrinkles in her forehead growing more pronounced. “Why did you do that?”

“Why?” Jean laughed haughtily, his almond eyes brimming with deep disdain. “Because you make him absolutely miserable. He can’t help but love you as his mom but I saw the way Reiner deflated after every phone call with you. How he’d get so anxious about every little mistake he made. And, unlike you, I got Reiner the help he needed. I supported him through that process and eventually helped him find the courage to finally cut you out.”

“Then why are you even here?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing further in what looked like frustration, “And why for so long? Why stay here until after New Years?”

Jean scoffed, “It’s not to see you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“For Gabi, then?”

“No, if it was just about Gabi then I would have invited her to come visit us for the holidays. Falco, too. He sounds like a nice kid.”

Karina pursed her lips, mouth forming a thin line across her face. To Jean’s surprise, though, she stayed silent, evidently waiting for him to continue.

He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to elaborate. None of this was any of her business, after all. Except he wanted her to feel bad. To feel guilty for all of the cruel and messed up things she did and said to Reiner over the years. And, well, he only promised to make the trip stress free for Reiner who wasn’t there to bear witness… What if Reiner just never found out?

“We’re here to pay our respects to Marcel and,” Jean gazed at her with all of the intensity he could muster, “Bertholdt. Though you might know him better as that wretched sinner or, I don’t know, that disgusting faggot?” He paused for a moment, taking in the way she winced when he repeated her words back to her.

“I could scarcely believe it the first time Reiner told me about their deaths,” Jean spat, “how you screamed at him for killing Marcel. I mean, how dare you blame him for that? And for what? Because if he hadn’t skipped his extracurricular that day then he wouldn’t have been there to cause the accident?”

She bowed her head, staring intently at her hands to avoid confronting the deadly look on Jean’s face.

“As if Reiner had any control over the driver who ran the red light when they were all crossing the street. As if he chose to have his friend push him out of danger to take the hit himself! Marcel, a dear friend, died and you had no sympathy, no compassion for your son. It’s been 15 years and he still carries that guilt with him. Still blames himself.”

Tears of indignation started welling in the corner of Jean’s eyes but he quickly blinked them away. It’d be a cold day in hell when he showed any signs of weakness to this witch.

“And you didn’t even get him help! He watched a friend get hit by a car and you couldn’t be bothered to get him in to see a therapist. And I know you had the resources. Unlike Bertholdt’s father who wanted to get his son into therapy after also witnessing the accident but just didn’t have the right insurance. You realize that Reiner and Bertholdt practically held each other together after that, right?”

Surprisingly Karina responded with a single nod of the head. Yet she continued staring at the table, her expression unreadable. He knew he could stop here, having likely gotten his point across but fuck that. It wasn’t close to enough.

“If you knew how much your son relied upon that friendship then why did you tear them apart? Huh?”

Karina hunched further forward in her seat, elbows now propped up on the table so she could hold her head. She didn’t even attempt a response, which only served to piss Jean off more.

“We both know it’s because you walked in on them sharing a kiss! A simple peck on the lips and you lost your goddamn mind! You grounded your son for the rest of the school year and forbade him from seeing his best friend! They didn’t even know how they actually felt about each other but you didn’t hesitate to demonize an innocent teenager! One you’d known for years at that point, no less!”

Jean banged his fist on the table with a frustrated grunt, causing the dishes to clatter from the force. She flinched in response but still hung her head low, refusing to face his fury. He took a moment to catch his breath before continuing his condemnation. “The night Bertholdt died he was driving here to see Reiner. Not to have some secret affair but because your son was at the end of his rope.”

Finally she raised her head, looking at him with a hollow, wide eyed expression. 

“That’s right. Reiner started talking about hurting himself and his best friend rushed here despite your warnings in order to save your son…” for the first time Jean hesitated, temporarily uncertain if he should throw the finishing blow. Then he remembered the look of devastation on Reiner’s face the first time he heard this story and he knew it had to be done.

“Did you know that they were on the phone together? Bertholdt didn’t want to leave Reiner alone for a second, afraid of what might happen if he did. As a result Reiner heard all of it. The crash, the screams of pain, and then the emergency workers frantically pulling Bertholdt from the wreckage, shouting about the blood loss and—” 

“Stop!” Karina sobbed desperately, her suddenly visible eyes pleading with Jean to grant her mercy. The look on her face, the hint of remorse he sensed in her, made him take pity and skip the rest of the gory details.

“The only reason we’re even here talking right now,” Jean growled, “the only reason your son is still alive, is because he had other people to carry him through. First he had his friends here in town and then he went to college and found me. I saw how much he was hurting and I encouraged him to finally talk to a professional. Now he’s flourishing and I’ll be damned if I let you undo any of his hard earned progress!”

What he heard her say next didn’t make any sense. Jean couldn’t help but think he’d misheard Karina through her sobs and gasps for air. But then she said it again and again. So many times that it became unmistakable.

“Thank you.”

“What? Why the hell are you thanking me?”

“Because,” Karina suddenly reached across the table to grab one of Jean’s hands. In any other situation he would immediately pull away but his instincts told him to wait. “Jean, dear, I’ve been trying to get Reiner alone to ask if he would consider going to family therapy with me.”

“Wait, what?”

“After Reiner cut me off.. I was a complete mess. At first I was so angry. How could my baby forsake me like that? After everything I sacrificed to raise him. But then the anger, it turned into despair and I could hardly function. When I went in for a medical appointment, the doctor convinced me to see a therapist for my depression. It took years but eventually I realized how much I’d let down my dear son.”

Jean stared at Karina, too stunned to even notice that now he was crying. Not from righteous anger but from utter confusion. For all of the times he had daydreamed about putting this woman in her place he never imagined such a response.

“If you hadn’t convinced Reiner to shut me out I never would’ve gotten the help I needed. I never would’ve worked on my own issues and understood how I took them out on him. I failed him as a mother. I know that now.” She let go of Jean’s hand to grab a tissue box and set it on the table between the two of them.

“Hold on,” he watched as she pulled a tissue to dab at her eyes, “if you already knew you’d done wrong by Reiner then why did you let me tell you off like that?” Jean grimaced now as he thought back on the comments he’d just made. The fierce condemnations. The unapologetic jabs.

Karina smiled weakly, “Well… I guess I wanted to understand how you saw the situation as my son’s life partner.”

“That’s reasona— WHAT,” Jean bolted up from his seat, “what did you just call me!?”

“Reiner’s life partner,” she repeated gently, her smile widening.

“You knew this whole time!?”

Karina nodded.

“How?!” Jean slammed his palms down on the table, rattling the tableware yet again. 

This time, instead of flinching, Karina couldn’t stop herself from laughing. A goofy, genuine laugh that rumbled from her stomach and up through her chest. A laugh that sounded exactly like Reiner’s when he felt light and carefree. When he was happy.

“Gabi and Reiner are friends on social media, dear,” she finally explained after containing her amusement. “He isn’t shy about your relationship. And Gabi isn’t shy about, well, anything. I don’t think she realized that I wasn’t supposed to know when she told me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well,” Karina sighed, her smile quickly fading, “I… I didn’t want to stress Reiner. Or you, for that matter. With how bigoted I used to be, I wasn’t sure if either of you would believe me if I said I was okay with it, either.”

Jean nodded, finally allowing himself to smile. He sat back down at the table and leaned back in the seat. Without saying anything, Karina grabbed Jean’s nearly empty cup of coffee and brought back a fresh pour.

“We have a few hours still,” she reminded him, “If you’re up to it, I think it would be nice to start over.”

He considered her offer for a second, a smug smile crossing his face. “Sure but on one condition.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The last thing Reiner expected to hear when he threw open the door of his mother’s house after hours of waiting around at the airport was raucous laughter. Especially not Jean’s laughter, at that. He kicked off his shoes and hastily ran into the kitchen where he discovered Jean gleefully laughing at a photo album.

“Oh, that picture of him dressed as a yam?” Karina asked with a chuckle. She was back at the stove, putting the finishing touches on their lunch.

“Is that what that is?” Jean questioned with a wide, mischievous smile. His eyes were glued to a polaroid of a young Reiner wearing a lumpy reddish-brown blob of a costume. “Was this for some Thanksgiving play or something?”

Reiner froze in place, mouth hanging open. Wide eyed, he glanced back and forth between the duo, too shocked to speak.

“No, no” she replied cheerfully, “that was for Halloween. Reiner really, and I mean really, loved sweet potatoes back then. I borrowed his aunt’s sewing machine and tried throwing something together for him. It admittedly wasn’t very good.”

Jean cackled. He flipped to the next page, grinning at more pictures of the yam costume while sipping on some water.

“Hello Ms. Braun, thank you for hosting me,” a gentle voice suddenly came from Reiner’s side and drew everyone’s attention. Falco stood in the doorway of the kitchen holding a small tin. “Colt baked these cookies for us to enjoy.”

Without skipping a beat Jean got up from the table to shake Falco’s hand and introduce himself. Then he gestured for the young man to follow him to the stove where Karina once stood.

Reiner looked down to see his mother gazing up at him, a nervous smile adorning her face. She gently grabbed his arm and led him to the next room while Gabi passed them to join the others.

“Mom, what’s going on?” He asked quietly, eyebrows still stuck high on his forehead.

“I asked Gabi to keep you busy for a while so I could talk to Jean,” Karina let go of her son’s arm to rest her hands at her sides. That alone was unusual to him, having grown accustomed to his mother clinging to him when they were in such close proximity. She continued, “I’m sorry for the tricks but I realized I needed to get your boyfriend on my side if I wanted to talk to you. And yes, I’ve known this whole time. Gabi told me a while ago.”

“Gabi told you I had a boyfriend? But then why—” Reiner cut himself off and shook his head, realizing that it really didn’t matter why his mother played along with the roommate story. Not when she referred to Jean as his boyfriend without a shred of contempt in her tone.

“Reiner, I’m so sorry,” Karina looked away for a moment to wipe her watering eyes, “I know I hurt you so much.”

He blinked back tears of his own. Was this real? “It’s… it’s okay, mom, r-really…” Reiner stammered, suddenly overcome with an indescribable feeling of guilt. One that he often felt when thinking about his mother but never understood.

“My dear boy, it’s not okay. I am your mother and I failed you. After talking to Jean I realized that I failed you even more than I thought. I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me.”

“Wait,” he protested, “that man, my dad, took advantage of you when you were still just a teenager and then abandoned you with his child. And then.. grandma and grandpa, I didn’t see it back then but I see it now. I see how disappointed they were. You hardly knew peace a-and they treated m-me like an extension of you. I… I can’t b-blame you for wanting me to meet their expectations.”

Karina shook her head, choking back tears. Reiner could see the way she fought against her own desire to pull him into a hug and it broke his heart. As often as Jean had encouraged him to be angry at his mother, he rarely ever could. 

That guilt, he suddenly realized where it came from. And that was from the knowledge that his very existence made Karina’s life infinitely harder. How every little mistake he made was weaponized against her by his grandparents. The only ones he ever knew and also the ones who silently saw Reiner as a mistake. 

It’s not like they were wrong, either.

Yet Karina didn’t stop shaking her head in disagreement, fighting against her own emotions to find her voice. “None of what you said, about your father or my parents or my age,” she croaked, barely understandable, “none of that was your fault.” She muffled a sob with her hands. 

“You didn’t choose to be born, Reiner. And maybe… maybe I didn’t choose to give birth, but it’s not an excuse for how I treated you. Or how I treated poor Bertholdt. You were just kids and I… I had n-no idea th-that you… or that h-he… it’s all m-my f-fault…”

Reiner sucked in a sharp breath, immediately understanding his mother now knew about that awful night. Without hesitation he pulled her into a strong embrace, unable to contain his own sobs. Karina whimpered innumerable apologies and for once he let her without protest. 

Deep down Reiner somehow knew that both of them needed this. His mom needed to apologize for her wrongdoings. He needed to forgive himself for every one of those wrongs for which he had ever accepted the blame. This was them, finally healing. The first step of countless many in a journey that already felt infinitely easier.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

That night five of them sat around the kitchen table, laughing and playing some of their favorite board games. Karina sat out of some of the rounds but, unlike the previous days, she was very much part of the conversation. Jean still struggled at times to hold his tongue after she said something questionable but he cut himself some slack. He knew this was a process for him, too.

When he and Reiner finally retired to their room his heart felt much lighter. As did his boyfriend’s for that matter, (though he was a little tipsy, too.) It didn’t take long before Jean felt Reiner lightly snoring into the back of his neck, the latter insisting on being the big spoon that night. He smiled to himself as sleep gradually came to claim him, too.

Never in Jean’s dreams did he ever imagine liking Karina Braun. Perhaps it was a Christmas miracle. Or perhaps, as was sometimes the case, he assumed the worst of someone he never met in the process of fighting for someone he loved. He didn’t question it, however, just happy that he agreed to give her the chance.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

A/N: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! If there is enough interest I might write a second part where reijean go on a double date with pokupiku and pay their respects to Marcel and Bertholdt.

[r3dsp4ce]

my damon hcs because im too insane and gay about him

trans ftm . came out as a preteen, is on t since he was like 16 + got top surgery shortly after turning 18. was able to medically transition fairly early thanks to the money he started making as an ultimate

gay. homosexual. mlm. and demisexual

autistic tendencies + npd

japanese american (american mom n japanese dad)

grew up in japan in a small town and a lower class household, it wasn't until he got accepted as an ultimate when his family's financial situation has gotten better and they eventually moved to the us (florida specifically)

has a pet snake . one of these cute tiny kind. loves reptiles in general. his parents not really but they take care of it very lovingly while damon's away

even though they're in a very stable situation now he still feels like his family depends on him financially and stresses his ass off over it

didn't really struggle with the switch of languages after they moved countries, he was taught english by his mom since he was little + being able to speak english is somewhat necessery in his profession

basically has the most supportive parents EVER, in terms of everything, from his identity to his antics and the weird little thing in the aquarium

usually wears darker muted colors, dark greens, browns, grays, beiges etc. loves turtlenecks and jumpers

has that "being alone >>> making friends and risking getting hurt or betrayed by them sooner or later" mindset

actually loves lego .. when kai gifted him his first set he kept repeating how silly and pointless it is while also hyperfocusing on building it for 4 hours straight

hyperfocuses on things easily and often actually. put the presidential debate on the tv and he's not moving an inch until it's over. if the blackout during the tournament didn't happen you would NOT take him off that couch until he's done

t4t besties with eva!! also gay/lesbian solidariety . they both have the biggest platonic crush on each other and both don't know what's happening to them because they each have literally NO social experience .. im not normal about them

very prone to cold. always has cold hands and needs at least like 3 layers of clothing to not freeze

blanket hogger .... both him and kai are actually so the bed looks like a warzone in the morning

little spoon .

would secretly love the idea of borrowing his partner's clothes

big mitski fan . you're not convincing me that your best american girl isn't literally his song

men hating homosexual

his favorite childhood show was gravity falls and his fave was dipper

i will add more bc i think bout him way too much lol

when he's alone with toshiko they allow themselves to talk in japanese instead of english like they do with other classmates. he has somewhat of a soft spot for her, she reminds him of home

[dc-tired]

Maybe one day

He was just adjusting the bandages on his ankle when the tavern door swung open, and the fire in the fireplace flared up; Damian hissed through his teeth, turning away and pulling his hood over his head.

Hiding was pointless; he had already been found. However, pride wouldn't let him give up without a fight. The monotonous chatter in the tavern began to fade. With every step the approaching man took, more people fell silent; a barely audible "Dragon, dragon!" swept through the crowd. Approving shouts and greetings echoed.

What did they love about this werewolf? A crowned half-human, a half-reptile — it was incomprehensible; an animal sat on the throne, wild and predatory. Why did all these people...

The young man swallowed back cruel words. A dull pain shot through his ankle, driving him crazy for hours; he was hungry and, moreover, soaked and tired. The dragon was... and of course, but the love for him among his people was not the true reason for his anger.

The half-human stopped, his cloak rustling across the floor. Damian kept his gaze fixed on the inviting fireplace. He knew he had been caught. Knew that it would be this way — it was meant to happen.

Timothy knelt down, and his fiery palm covered Damian's cold, still damp hand.

"This time, you're far away," the dragon murmured almost inaudibly.

A thunderclap sounded outside. In its flash, at the periphery, Damian noticed: a soaked cloak, water dripping from his hair. The dragon had been looking for him in the rain, in the bad weather, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to escape.

And he kept watching, without taking his eyes away. Unaware of how the tavern's patrons and owners were staring at them.

Damian said nothing — his pride, shame, and anger had glued his mouth shut. He didn't lower his hands, didn't shift his gaze to the dragon.

Timothy continued to look at him, like a loyal dog.

"Do you want to stay here for the night?" he asked softly, gently stroking the skin on Damian's hand that was starting to crack. "Or should I find a more comfortable place?"

Damian pressed his lips together; the recovering tavern owner immediately spoke up:

"We will prepare the best room for you! And a bath! And dinner on the house! For our dragon," he said with a flourish of his winged lizard brooch, "we will not hold back. The best rest at the 'Dragon's Egg' that is possible!"

Laughter rippled through the crowd; it seemed the name was a frequent topic of jokes here. Timothy said nothing in response, and the silence between them dragged on so long that Damian reluctantly parted his lips:

"Here."

The dragon tenderly stroked his hand again. He continued to look, boring a hole into Damian with his attentive gaze, when he spoke louder to the crowd:

"Everything you promised, and breakfast. I will pay."

The owner immediately bustled about, and the familiar tavern buzz returned. People raised toasts to the dragon as if his presence here was their achievement; a song started, and a lyre began to ring. A few drunkards twirled in an awkward dance, kicking up dust from the floor.

The dragon had already created a fair-sized puddle around them when the owner called them upstairs, still bustling about excessively and preening. Damian struggled to shake off his paralysis, and Timothy immediately sprang up to help him rise.

The young man shot an angry glare at him. So many people were watching them and so many conversations were being raised that by morning the whole village would know who had been there and what they had done — every move they made — and least of all did Damian want to present himself as weak in the eyes of others and even less to allow the dragon to play on that.

But he wasn’t doing it for show. In Timothy’s world, there was no one else existing right now. Right now — and in general.

With a clear effort, the dragon allowed him to walk up one flight of stairs on his own two feet, but as soon as they were alone, he effortlessly scooped the young man into his arms.

“Save your leg for another escape,” he whispered, and warm breath brushed against Damian’s cheek. The heat of his body penetrated the young man through and through, warming him to the bone, as if he had finally received permission. “I will take care of you until then.”

Damian rested his head on Timothy’s shoulder and closed his eyes — unintentionally. The warmth of the hands holding his own, the warmth of the dragon’s chest was so enticing to him, frozen and drenched, that he was unaware of it. What was worse: as soon as the door closed behind them and Timothy set him down on a chair, a pitiful, pleading sound escaped from Damian’s throat.

“I know,” the werewolf said tenderly, as if this small foolishness wasn’t humiliating for the prince, “the bath is already ready. I’ll warm it up, and you change. How is your leg?”

“You shouldn’t fly in a storm,” Damian mumbled awkwardly, clinging to his wet cloak. Timothy immediately sat down beside him, gently peeling the cold hands of the young man from the fabric and intertwining their fingers.

“I didn’t fly,” he promised. “I rode in from the nearest town, and walked through the village. The horse threw me off as soon as I saw the lights of the houses. How’s your leg, dear?”

People didn’t like the dragon’s animals. They adored them, even worshiped. Damian... still didn’t know what he felt. The fiery hands held him gently, not giving him a chance to squirm away.

“It aches. I twisted it when I was making my way through the city. And... already in the tavern.”

Timothy’s lips formed a sad, unhappy line. He comfortingly ran his hands down Damian’s forearm, once again giving out his unasked tenderness.

“Change your clothes,” he said softly, “I’ll prepare the water and go downstairs for the medicine. I’ll leave some ointment for you.”

Damian nodded. The lump in his throat didn’t allow him to express how grateful he was to the dragon.

He washed up, dried himself, changed into a nightshirt, and was just about to tend to his ankle when the dragon returned. How he knew every time that Damian was done, the young man didn’t know. Perhaps just as he found out, no matter how deep he tried to escape from his husband.

“Not a single decent doctor in the whole village,” the dragon murmured barely audibly, handing him the medicine. “Drink, dear. It should take away the pain and inflammation. At home, I could take better care of you, but for now, this is all I can do.”

The young man obediently took a sip of the medicine; the pain in his leg ceased its incessant throbbing after the warm water, but an echo of pain lingered in his muscles, promising to remind him of itself during the night when the entire tavern would be asleep. He would have preferred this punishment for his foolishness, his distrust, his...

The dragon was busy changing and drying himself behind the screen, and Damian could see his back; he deliberately wouldn’t look away from the wall. The medicine habitually tasted bitter on his tongue, infused with healing herbs, calming his thoughts; many — but not all.

The young man finished the glass just as Timothy changed.

"Let me," the dragon whispered, taking the ointment; Damian would have refused if the touch of his hands hadn’t felt so magical.

He silently endured Timothy pouring his love onto him, literally massaging it into his skin. When the bandages were finally wrapped around his ankle, and the dragon wiped his hands on a rag, all Damian wanted was to sleep so that treacherous thoughts would stop jumping around in his head like fleas. He pulled the plate that had been resting on the bedside stool closer to him, sensing that his hunger had vanished even before he touched the first piece. With difficulty, the young man finished his dinner, all the while catching the attentive gaze of his dragon; trying to distract himself from it, he belatedly realized that the tavern owner truly hadn’t been stingy with the food.

Just as he was about to lie down, Timothy spoke up again:

"I’ll take a place by the door."

He fervently wanted to clarify: "On the floor?" but Damian allowed the dragon to lie on the side farthest from the window without question. He settled down at the most respectful distance the bed would allow him.

With bitter irony, the young man thought: this is how they slept — husbands. Soon it would be a year of their married life.

He blew out the candles and lay down. In the darkness of countless nights, Damian had already learned that the dragon could see well even without light and didn’t allow himself to turn toward him, to try to find his silhouette in the dark. In the noise of the pouring rain outside, he whispered only:

"I’ll run away again."

"Only after your leg heals," his husband immediately replied. And he added even more gently: "Please."

Damian waited until Timothy fell asleep — forced himself to believe he had fallen asleep — and then he carefully shifted closer to him. Without hesitating for a second, the dragon wrapped an arm around him and pulled him in tightly. The consuming thoughts that Damian was anyone but a suitable husband for the dragon fell silent; others came to replace them. All gradually betrayed him: grandfather, mother, father, brothers. The father alone did the little he could to atone for his sins: he married him off to the dragon; to one who wouldn’t want to and couldn’t betray him.

Damian kept testing him, knowing that one day he would give in and stop running away. That one day he would trust that Timothy wouldn’t abandon him, and perhaps that would become his greatest...

The dragon stirred as if hearing his thoughts and tightened his embrace. He pressed against Damian, wrapping him in a protective cocoon, and the burning heat of him penetrated the young man down to his bones.

...luck.

The leg no longer ached. The rain, if it didn’t stop by morning, would give Timothy reason to come up with a hundred excuses unfit for his royal status to stay in bed for one more day, curled up in a ball of burning embraces.

And if it does stop... Damian could lie about his leg. He could come up with a sufficiently convincing lie and a hundred meaningless and pointless excuses to stay here for at least a few more hours.

↓ RU :

Он как раз поправлял повязки на лодыжке, когда дверь в таверну распахнулась, и пламя в камине возликовало; Дэмиен зашипел сквозь зубы, отворачиваясь и закрываясь капюшоном.

Прятаться было бесполезно; он его уже нашел. Гордость, однако, не позволяла сдаться без сопротивления.

Монотонная болтовня в таверне стала затихать. С каждым шагом приближавшегося к нему человека замолкало все больше людей; едва слышное "Дракон, дракон!" пронеслось по толпе. Послышались одобрительные выкрики, приветствия.

За что они только любили этого оборотня? Коронованного недочеловека, недоящерицу — уму непостижимо; на троне сидело животное, дикое, хищное, почему все эти люди…

Юноша проглотил жестокие слова. Тупая боль простреливала лодыжку, сводила его с ума вот уже который час; он был голоден, и, к тому же, вымок и устал. Дракон был... причём, конечно, но любовь к нему его людей не была истинной причиной его злости.

Получеловек остановился, прошуршал по полу его плащ. Дэмиен все не сводил взгляда с радующегося камина. Он знал, что попался. Знал, что так и будет — так и должно было произойти.

Тимоти опустился на колено, и его огненная ладонь накрыла озябшую, все еще влажную ладонь Дэмиена.

— В этот раз далеко, — едва слышно пробормотал дракон.

За окном грохнула молния. В ее отблеске, на периферии, Дэмиен заметил: вымокшая накидка, капающая с волос вода. Дракон искал его под дождем, в непогоду, зная, что у него ни за что не получится уйти.

И смотрел, глаз не отводя. Не замечая, как на них пялятся постояльцы и хозяева таверны.

Дэмиен не ответил ничего — рот склеили гордость, стыд и злость. Он не скинул руки, не перевел на дракона взгляда.

Тот продолжал смотреть на него, словно преданная собака.

— Хочешь остаться на ночь здесь? — так же едва слышно спросил он, ласково поглаживая пальцем начинающую трескаться кожу. — Или мне найти более комфортабельное место?

Дэмиен поджал губы; опомнившийся хозяин тут же подал голос:

— Мы подготовим для вас лучшую комнату! И ванну! И ужин за счет заведения! Для нашего дракона, — щегольнул он фибулой с крылатой ящерицей, — мы не поскупимся. Лучший отдых в "Драконьем яйце", который только возможен!

По толпе пронеслись смешки; название, видно, здесь было частой темой для шуток. Тимоти ничего не ответил, и молчание между ними так затянулось, что Дэмиен нехотя разжал губы:

— Здесь.

Дракон вновь нежно погладил его руку. Он продолжал смотреть, прожигая в Дэмиене своим внимательным взглядом дырку, когда проговорил уже громче, в толпу:

— Все, что вы пообещали, и завтрак. Я оплачу.

Хозяин тут же засуетился, вернулся привычный таверный гомон. Люди поднимали за дракона тосты, словно это их заслугой было его присутствие здесь; затянули песню, зазвенела лира. В неумелом танце закружились несколько пьяниц, выбивая из пола пыль.

С них с драконом уже натекла порядочная лужа, когда хозяин позвал их наверх, все еще излишне суетясь и красуясь; Дэмиен с трудом скинул оцепенение, и Тимоти тут же подскочил, помогая ему подняться.

Юноша метнул на него сердитый взгляд. Столько людей наблюдали за ними и столько поднимали разговоров, что к завтрашнему утру уже вся деревня будет знать, кто был здесь и что делал — каждое их движение — и меньше всего на свете Дэмиен хотел выставить себя слабым в глазах других и еще меньше — позволить дракону на этом сыграть.

Но он не делал этого напоказ. Просто в мире для Тимоти никого другого сейчас не существовало. Сейчас — и вообще.

С очевидным усилием над собой дракон позволил ему пройти один пролет на своих двоих, но, едва рядом никого не осталось, он легким движением подхватил юношу на руки.

— Побереги ногу для другого побега, — шепнул он, и теплое дыхание обдало Дэмиену щеку. Жар его тела пронзил юношу насквозь, согревая до костей, словно наконец-то дождался разрешения. — Я позабочусь о тебе до тех пор.

Дэмиен опустил голову ему на плечо и прикрыл глаза — сам того не желая. Теплота рук, держащих его ладоней, груди дракона так манила его, замерзшего и промокшего, что он не отдавал себе отчета. Того хуже: стоило двери за ними закрыться, а Тимоти опустить его на стул, у юноши из горла вырвался несчастный, просящий звук.

— Я знаю, — тут же нежно шепнул оборотень, словно эта маленькая глупость не была унизительной для принца, — ванна уже готова. Я подогрею ее, а ты переоденься. Как твоя нога?

— Тебе нельзя летать в грозу, — пробормотал Дэмиен, неловко цепляясь за мокрый плащ. Тимоти тут же присел рядом, ласково отцепляя от ткани озябшие руки юноши и сплетая их пальцы.

— Я и не летал, — пообещал он. — От ближайшего города добрался на коне, а по деревне шел пешком. Лошадь сбросила меня, едва показались огни домов. Как твоя нога, родной?

Животные дракона не любили. Люди — обожали, боготворили даже. Дэмиен... до сих пор не знал, что чувствовал. Огненные руки держали его бережно, не давая шанса увильнуть.

— Ноет. Я подвернул ее, когда пробирался по городу. И... уже в таверне.

Губы Тимоти сложились в несчастную, печальную линию. Он утешающе провел ладонями Дэмиену по предплечью, вновь раздавая свою непрошенную нежность.

— Переодевайся, — мягко сказал он, — я подготовлю воду и спущусь за отваром. Я оставлю тебе мазь.

Дэмиен кивнул. Комок в горле не позволил ему сказать, как он был дракону признателен.

Он вымылся, вытерся, переоделся в ночную рубашку и как раз собирался заняться лодыжкой, когда дракон вернулся. Как он каждый раз догадывался, что Дэмиен закончил, юноша не знал. Вероятно так же, как находил, в какие бы дебри он от своего мужа не сбегал.

— Ни одного приличного врача на всю деревню, — едва слышно пробормотал дракон, протягивая отвар. — Пей, родной. Должно убрать боль и воспаление. Дома я смогу позаботиться о тебе лучше, но пока это все, что в моих силах.

Юноша послушно пригубил лекарство; нога перестала так назойливо ныть после горячей воды, но отголосок боли сохранялся в мышцах и обещал напомнить о себе ночью, когда вся таверна будет спать. Он предпочел бы это наказание своей глупости, своему недоверию, своей...

Дракон возился, переодеваясь и вытираясь за ширмой, и Дэмиен мог видеть его спину; он нарочно не отводил взгляда от стены. Лекарство привычно горчило на языке лечебными травами и успокаивало мысли; многие — но не все.

Юноша опустошил стакан как раз когда Тимоти переоделся.

— Позволь мне, — прошептал дракон, забирая мазь; Дэмиен запретил бы, не прогревай прикосновение его рук так волшебно.

Он молчаливо переждал то, как Тимоти изливал на него свою лю��овь, буквально втирая ее в кожу. Когда бинты, наконец, обернули его ногу, а дракон вытер руки о ветошь, единственное, чего хотел Дэмиен — уснуть, чтобы предательские мысли прекратили скакать в его голове, как блохи. Он пододвинул к себе стоявшую на прикроватной табуретке тарелку, ощущая, что голод пропал еще до того, как он коснулся первого кусочка. С трудом юноша расправился с ужином, все это время ловя на себе внимательные взгляды своего дракона; стараясь отвлечься от них, он с опозданием понял, что хозяин таверны и правда не поскупился на продукты.

Он только собрался лечь, как Тимоти снова подал голос:

— Я займу место у двери.

Страстно захотелось уточнить: "На полу?", но Дэмиен без вопросов позволил дракону лечь на дальней от окна стороне. Тот расположился на самом почтительном расстоянии, что позволила ему кровать.

С горькой иронией юноша подумал: вот так они и спали — супруги. Скоро будет год их семейной жизни.

Он задул свечи и улегся. В темноте бесчисленных ночей Дэмиен уже выучил, что дракон хорошо видел и без света, и не позволил себе повернуться в его сторону, попытаться во мраке нашарить взглядом его силуэт. В шуме хлещущего за окном дождя он шепнул только:

— Я снова убегу.

— Только после того, как заживёт твоя нога, — тут же откликнулся его муж. И добавил еще мягче: — Пожалуйста.

Дэмиен дождался, когда Тимоти заснёт — заставил себя поверить, что он уснул — и так осторожно как только смог перелёг к нему поближе. Не медля ни секунды, дракон обвил его рукой и притянул к себе вплотную. И съедающие заживо мысли о том, что Дэмиен был кем угодно, но только не подходящим супругом для дракона, умолкли; другие пришли им на смену. Все постепенно предавали его: дед, мать, отец, братья. Отец единственный сделал то немногое, что смог, чтобы искупить свою вину: отдал его замуж за дракона; того, кто не захотел бы и не смог его предать.

Дэмиен продолжал его проверять, зная, что однажды сдастся и перестанет убегать. Что однажды он доверится, что Тимоти его не бросит, и, вероятно, это станет самой большой его...

Дракон дернулся, словно услышав его мысли, и стиснул свои объятья крепче. Он прижался к Дэмиену, оборачиваясь вокруг него защитным коконом, и обжигающее его тепло пробрало юношу до костей.

...удачей.

Нога больше не болела. Дождь, если не прекратит к утру, даст повод Тимоти придумать сотни неподобающих его королевскому статусу оправданий остаться в постели ещё на один день, свернувшись в клубок обжигающих объятий.

А если прекратит... Дэмиен мог бы солгать про ногу. Он мог бы придумать достаточно убедительную ложь и сотни бессмысленных и бестолковых оправданий, чтобы задержаться здесь ещё хотя бы на несколько часов.

[omg-snakes]

Hey, do you have any recommendations for a potential first time snake owner, like which kind to get and what habitats would be best?

Hello friend!

I recommend that you do a LOT of reading and determine what you want from a pet snake (an adventure pal, a snuggle buddy, a display animal?), what kind of habitat you can manage (how big can you afford and how often can you maintain it?), and which species fits you best! There's no single correct answer. Read multiple sources, cross-reference what you find, and trust published experts over ding-dongs on the Internet (but still see what the ding-dongs have to say.)

Some common beginner species include corn snakes, sand boas, rosy boas, king snakes, garter snakes, and ball pythons. These are not the only species suitable for a beginner, so figure out which species of the many species in the pet hobby really sings your heart-song and then find out everything there is to know about them! Learn about similar species! Learn about species that aren't super common in the trade! Some species that have high humidity needs, arboreal species, giants, and fossorial species are not great in the hands of a beginner but if you find a mentor to guide you it's still doable.

If you were hoping for an easy answer, I'm sorry. I can't tell you what is going to make you happy and fit your budget. What I can tell you is that the welfare of your future reptile pet relies on you being fully prepared, so consider this research and exploration phase absolutely mandatory.

If you're not ready to do the required reading, take that as a sign that you're not quite ready for a snake.

[pjo-tvs-version]

I wrote another Percabeth fanfic! After seeing that you all actually liked the first fanfic, I decided to write another one. This one is about Annabeth's POV of the scene in The Last Olympian where she gets stabbed by a poison dagger. Title is from Willow by yet again Taylor Swift (it's one of my favorite songs). Happy reading!!

Life Was A Willow and it Bent Right To Your Wind

"Percy!" I yelled. "You've already routed them. Pull back! We're overextended!" Percy was being too heroic at the moment. Just one look at my surroundings told me that we had to retreat. I saw the crowd at the base of the bridge. The retreating monsters were running straight toward their reinforcements. It was a small group, maybe thirty or forty demigods in battle armour, mounted on skeletal horses. One of them held a purple banner with the black scythe design. The lead horseman trotted forward. He took off his helm, and I recognized Kronos himself, his eyes like molten gold. The Apollo campers and I faltered involuntarily. Luke I thought. No it was Kronos. Luke did not have those cruel, heartless golden eyes, Kronos did.  But I couldn’t help but think about my memories of him- all of which broken in my mind because of everything he did. Focus Annabeth, see the battle around me. The monsters we'd been pursuing reached the Titan's line and were absorbed into the new force. Kronos gazed in our direction. He was a quarter mile away from us. 

"Now," Percy  said, "we pull back." The Titan lord's men drew their swords and charged. The hooves of their skeletal horses thundered against the pavement. Our archers shot a volley, bringing down several of the enemy, but they just kept riding. "Retreat!" Percy told the group of demigods. "I'll hold them.'" In a matter of seconds they were on us. Michael and his archers tried to retreat, but I stayed right beside me, fighting with my knife and mirrored shield as we slowly backed up the bridge. I couldn’t leave Percy alone in a situation like this and after our last experience in the Labyrinth, I never will. Kronos's cavalry swirled around us, slashing and yelling insults. The Titan himself advanced leisurely, like he had all the time in the world. Being the lord of time, I guess he did. I felt tears brimming at the corner of my eyes. Luke had been a brother to me when no one even cared about me. Whatever he did and is doing is beyond wrong but still I cannot make myself believe that we have to kill him soon enough or we are doomed. Ugh why are thoughts distracting me so much today? I try to concentrate on the fight so as to escape my depressing thoughts.

  I felt a stab of pain in my heart as I looked at Luke’s no Kronos’ army. I tried to wound his men, not kill. That slowed me down, but these weren't monsters. They were demigods who'd fallen under Kronos's spell. I couldn't see faces under their battle helmets, but some of them had been my friends. I slashed the legs off their horses and made the skeletal mounts disintegrate. After the first few demigods took a spill, the rest figured out they'd better dismount and fight me on foot. 

Percy and I stayed shoulder to shoulder, facing opposite directions. I felt a spark of warmth at the familiarity. Ever since the labyrinth, we weren't the same and I missed the many things we did together. I will never admit it out loud but Percy was the best battle partner I could ask for. I kept on blocking the attacks of a dracaenae when I saw a demigod, a knife in hand ready to plunge. .He wore an eye patch under his war helm: Ethan Nakamura, the son of Nemesis. He was alive only because of Percy’s generosity. I followed his gaze which was difficult considering I was already battling a reptile woman.  The knife was not aimed at me but at Percy. Panic arose in my mind and my thoughts were speeding inside me. I had a few seconds but my mind was running in different directions. Percy is invincible, I chided. But I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease inside me. I had to make a decision now. I had to make a similar choice back in the labyrinth. However I regretted it so I corrected my mistake now. I won’t let Percy get hurt again if I can help it. I take a deep breath and hurl my shield at the dracaenae. After that was done, I hurled myself in front of the knife.

I braced myself for the pain to hit. I had anticipated that it would be pretty bad considering the force with which Ethan plunged it and I just added more momentum by hurling myself in front of it. It was way worse. A scream arose which I couldn't control.I reflexively clutched my shoulder which was now oozing with blood. The blood had seeped through my camp t-shirt. My head felt dizzy and my knees buckled. 

Behind me, Percy shouted "Annabeth!". I couldn’t think thanks to the wound but there is something else too. The pain got more intense with every passing second and I could feel myself shivering. Percy’s face showed every possible emotion he was feeling. Confusion, concern,anger and worry. Percy locked eyes with the enemy demigod. Perhaps he was regretting his decision to set Ethan free. To my astonishment, Percy slammed him in the face with his sword hilt so hard he dented his helm. My vision is getting blurry now. From the pain? From tears? I had no idea.

 "Get back!" Percy slashed the air in a wide arc, driving the rest of the demigods away from me. "No one touches her!" I had a feeling that the pain was making me so delirious that I was hearing things. Did Percy just say “No one touches her” or was it just me hallucinating. I had never seen him so vehement about anything. Through my fuzzy vision I saw Luke (no Kronos)  towering above us on his skeletal horse, his scythe in one hand. “Interesting,” he said. It sounded downright ominous. "Bravely fought, Percy Jackson," he said. "But it's time to surrender . . . or the girl dies." No, I couldn't  let him surrender. Not now after all the training and preparation. After all the sacrifices. I find my voice and manage to croak the words "Percy, don't". It happened so fast, barely in the blink of an eye. "Blackjack!" Percy yelled. As fast as light, the pegasus swooped down and clamped his teeth on the straps of my armour. We soared away over the river, into the sky.

I must have passed out from the pain midair because right now I was covered in blankets, lying down on a lounge chair, on a balcony. Under different circumstances I would've loved the view from the terrace. It looked straight down onto Central Park. The morning was clear and bright—perfect for a picnic or a hike, or pretty much anything except fighting monsters. My thoughts race and my thinking process is still not clear because of the stab wound. My first thought was Percy. Was he okay? Is he alive? Did he die again because of me? My Athena heritage isn't helping much either. The many logical facts and the unfair odds threaten the hope I have about Percy being alive. I hear crying and recognize it at once. Silena Beauregard, daughter of Aphrodite, was sniffling and speaking. I heard her saying “... better come quickly with a healer from the Apollo Cabin. Hurry Percy.” 

So Percy is alive. Thank the gods. At once I am threatened by another thought- Did he surrender. Then a wave of pain washes over me causing me to grimace. My thoughts are scattered and I feel  as though my wound is burning. My forehead breaks into sweat and Silena places a cool cloth on my forehead. She is crying, sobbing and apologising. I try to ask her why she is so miserable but the words stay stuck in my throat. “I’m sorry Annabeth. I’m so sorry.” she sniffles. I am puzzled. Why is apologising? She wasn't even there when I got hurt. “It isn't your fault Silena.” I try to reassure her through my broken voice. “Rest now Annabeth, she said, feeling my forehead.”

It was difficult to abide by Silena’s request. I kept on drifting into unconsciousness and consciousness, unable to ignore the throbbing pain in my shoulder and the burning sensation I felt around the wound. It must have been a while when I heard panicked footsteps approaching towards me. I try to turn my head with all my remaining energy to see Percy running and Will Solace behind him.

He looked aghast whilst looking at me. Was I looking that beat up? “Annabeth-” he choked. He looked so concerned, so guilty that I tried to lighten the mood a little. “Poison on the dagger, Pretty stupid of me. Huh?” I mumbled. Will undid the bandages. He exhaled with relief. "It's not so bad, Annabeth. A few more minutes and we would've been in trouble, but the venom hasn't gotten past the shoulder yet. Just lie still. Somebody hand me some nectar." 

Percy grabbed the canteen of nectar faster than I could have said Seaweed Brain. Will started applying the godly drink on my wound and as if on reflex. I grabbed Percy’s hand, squeezing it. The pain was too much. Will had told me to lie still which was becoming more difficult with every passing second. "Ow," I said. "Ow, ow!". Silena muttered words of encouragement. Will put some silver paste over the wound and hummed words in Ancient Greek—a hymn to Apollo. I felt better. The pain was relatively less intense and the poison’s burning sensation had been significantly reduced.Then he applied fresh bandages and stood up shakily. The healing must've taken a lot of his energy. He looked almost as pale as me. "That should do it," he said. "But we're going to need some mortal supplies." I realised that I was still gripping Percy’s hand (which had now turned purple because I gripped it a tad too hard) and let go awkwardly.

Will  grabbed a piece of hotel stationery, jotted down some notes, and handed it to Malcolm. "There's a Duane Reade on Fifth. Normally I would never steal—" "I would," Travis volunteered. Will glared at him. "Leave cash or drachmas to pay, whatever you've got, but this is an emergency. I've got a feeling we're going to have a lot more people to treat." Nobody disagreed. There was hardly a single demigod who hadn't already been wounded . . . except Percy. "Come on, guys," Travis Stoll said. "Let's give Annabeth some space. We've got a drugstore to raid . . . I mean, visit." The demigods shuffled back inside. Jake Mason grabbed Percy’s shoulder as he was leaving. "We'll talk later, but it's under control. I'm using Annabeth's shield to keep an eye on things. The enemy withdrew at sunrise; not sure why. We've got a lookout at each bridge and tunnel." "Thanks, man," Percy said. He nodded. "Just take your time." 

He closed the terrace doors behind him, leaving Silena, Percy, and me alone. Silena pressed a cool cloth to Annabeth's forehead. "This is all my fault." "No," I said weakly. Why did she keep blaming herself? "Silena, how is it your fault?" "I've never been any good at camp," she murmured. "Not like you or Percy. If I was a better fighter . . ." Her mouth trembled. Ever since Beckendorf died she'd been getting worse, and every time I looked at her, it made me worried even more about her. Her expression reminded me of glass—like she might break any minute. "You're a great camper," Percy told Silena. "You're the best pegasus rider we have. And you get along with people. Believe me, anyone who can make friends with Clarisse has talent." She stared at Percy like he had just given her an idea. 

 "That's it! We need the Ares cabin. I can talk to Clarisse. I know I can convince her to help us." Silena beamed. "Whoa, Silena. Even if you could get off the island, Clarisse is pretty stubborn. Once she gets angry—" Percy tried to say. "Please," Silena said. "I can take a pegasus. I know I can make it back to camp. Let me try." He exchanged looks with me. I nodded slightly. I didn't like the idea. I didn't think Silena stood a chance of convincing Clarisse to fight. On the other hand, Silena was so distracted right now that she would just get herself hurt in battle. Maybe sending her back to camp would give her something else to focus on. "All right," Percy told her. "I can't think of anybody better to try." Silena threw her arms around Percy. Then she pushed back awkwardly, glancing at me. Well that was weird. "Um, sorry. Thank you, Percy! I won't let you down!" she added.

Once she was gone, Percy knelt next to me and felt my forehead. He had so much concern in his eyes. The expression on his face was endearing. Maybe the poison did something to my head because the next words just sprouted out from my lips. "You're cute when you're worried,". "Your eyebrows get all scrunched together." My thoughts were unclear, but here I am complementing Percy on his looks after being stabbed by a poison dagger. It was true after all. His eyes reminded me of a cute baby seal and his hair was tousled making him look cute. No Annabeth, I chide myself, I am not going to go over my feelings with battle going on. "You are not going to die while I owe you a favour," Percy retorted. 

"Why did you take that knife?" He said nothing about my comment. It hurt a little considering the events of last summer (I’m looking at Racheal here). I sigh, hope doesn't come without a cost (the cost here being my broken heart but lets ignore that, we are at war).  "You would've done the same for me." It was true. I guess we both knew it. I stare at him and he looks at me dead serious, the twinkle in his eyes was lost. I realised then something else more serious must be going on in his mind because he was seldom this serious. 

"How did you know?" he asked, panicking. "Know what?" He looked around to make sure we were alone. Then he leaned in close and whispered: "My Achilles spot. If you hadn't taken that knife, I would've died." My heart skipped a beat as he leaned. Why do I always feel like this around Percy? Then my ears caught on the words ‘Achilles spot’. So he took a dip in the Styx. That was such a risky and stupid thing to do. But it was exactly the type of thing he will do. He would sacrifice himself for anyone close to him.  Even though I call it stupid, it was indeed a smart move. Maybe I’ll tell him that if (no when there can be no if) we come out alive from the war. He looks at me and suddenly I remember that I should answer his question. "I don't know, Percy.” I admit. “ I just had this feeling you were in danger. Where . . . where is the spot?" 

I didn't expect him to tell me his weakness though. I could be fatal and I would understand if he didn't want to tell me either (though it would hurt on the inside but let's forget about that part.) He should know that he wasn't supposed to tell anyone. "The small of my back." he answers. He told me? He told me his one weakness? His one fatal liability? I was in utter shock. I didn't expect  Seaweed Brain to trust me about something this fatal. But he did and that surprised me.

I guess curiosity is an ingrained trait of the Athenian brain. I wanted to know exactly where. Without thinking, I lifted my hand. "Where? Here?" I asked.  I put my hand on Percy’s spine, and my skin tingles from the warmth of the touch. Why do I keep feeling sparks every time I’m even close to Percy?  Percy moved my fingers to the one spot that grounded him to his mortal life. I shouldn't be feeling like this but  I will confess that I loved the intimacy that this moment carried. "You saved me," Percy said. "Thanks." I could practically hear the gratitude in his voice. It made the pain worth it. I cannot believe that I am saying this but I would have taken another poisoned dagger in a heartbeat for him. As much as I hated it, I removed my hand.  But I kept holding it. I am not going to lie, it made me feel surreal when it shouldn’t.  Small gestures by him send jolts of electricity through me. But I shouldn't feel like this. He saw me only as his friend and battle partner, nothing else. So I just switch to our usual banter.

 "So you owe me," I said weakly. "What else is new?" We watched the sun come up over the city. It felt peaceful and I was content for a moment. I wanted to savour the moment. In battle you appreciate the rare quiet times one gets. But of course my thoughts wonder as I study my surroundings.

The traffic should've been heavy by now, but there were no cars honking, no crowds bustling along the sidewalks. Far away, I could hear a car alarm echo through the streets. A plume of black smoke curled into the sky somewhere over Harlem. I wondered how many ovens had been left on when the Morpheus spell hit; how many people had fallen asleep in the middle of cooking dinner. Pretty soon there would be more fires. it made sad to see such a busy town being reduced to a battlefield by the Titans… and the Gods. Oh gods, Percy must be feeling terrible seeing his town in such a condition.  Everyone in New York was in danger—and all those lives depended on us. 

Did Annabeth sound a little too lovergirl in this? I don't know. Phew, this was a long one so it will probably have a lot of mistakes. As always positive criticism is appreciated. Hope you liked it!

You can read it on AO3 here